tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86228503526421340882024-02-02T15:16:53.688-08:00Act Your AgeA nominally comprehensive guide to age 30.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-11709323599343348922011-08-28T09:19:00.000-07:002011-08-28T09:19:00.193-07:00Hurricane Irene Hits Richmond: Damage EnsuesWhen you thought of Hurricane Irene's path of destruction, you probably weren't thinking of Richmond, VA. Don't worry, its not your fault. The weather channel was pretty focused on NYC's epic and unprecedented evacuations, and we did not appear to be in the hurricane's path. Even our local meteorologists were saying "it won't be that bad" and, perhaps, if you were in other partsBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-74773597667062779812011-07-30T11:22:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:55:08.308-07:00Customer Service: "Get it your damn self": Part III know you're excited.
"Part II?" you say. "I didn't realize there would be a sequel!"
Ah, yes. I have a great many things to say about Customer Service "Professionals"-- most of which can be summed up by my use of ironic quotation marks around the word "Professional," but I encourage you to delve into my history with CS"P"s by going here and here.
All caught up? Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-37317091969662714972011-07-30T10:01:00.000-07:002011-07-30T10:01:10.523-07:00Day #300+: I'm Back.And I want to talk about random stuff.
I had previously claimed I didn't want to maintain blogs that were just wild, mucky-mucking around the odd stuff of life. However, I like writing and finding something like a "theme" to write an entire blog about is a smidge challenging, and prevents me from actually sitting down and writing funny stuff.
So screw this, I'm going to write about Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-1187444259522551152010-08-23T19:21:00.000-07:002011-01-09T06:11:27.322-08:00Day #19: Age: 30Today I am 30.Not surprisingly, I doesn't feel much different than 29.My parents and sister threw me a three-year-old's birthday party last weekend. Cutest. Thing. Ever. Mom had cupcakes, streamers, matching plates and napkins with a cornocopia of cupcake flavors featured on them (see photo for details).Before the party started, my sister looked at me and said, "You're not turning thirty. Your Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-60747256894677384802010-08-22T22:40:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:54:44.884-07:00Day #18: Passive Agressive. Um, is it cold in here, or are you just pissed at me?No one is particularly good at confrontation, albeit the people who are good at confronting others tend to do so with a gusto a relish that I do not care to be the recipient of. I, however, did not learn that the best way to handle a problem is to address it directly until well into my twenties -- and quite frankly, I'm still only marginal at it.While I was waiting to develop my confrontation Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-70993342475883190022010-08-21T11:29:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:54:05.486-07:00Day #17: Hangovers. A Brief Compare and Contrast.Last night Mike and I were hanging out on the deck, discussing what I should post today. Mike said "Hangovers" would be an appropriate topic to cover after a post on "Alcohol." Additionally, we may have been mentally preparing ourselves for this morning...We started to make a list of hangover cures, but realized that our actions at age 20 were radically less sensible than those at age 30, and so Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-31028468270391658292010-08-20T11:31:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:53:32.566-07:00Day #16: Alcohol. "I like my drink with a splash of snob, please."This is a subject near and dear to the hearts of many, and especially appropriate on a Friday afternoon when those of you in this time zone are shortly to engage in the art of consumption. I, for one, will be hoisting a glass as soon as possible, because I believe I am entitled to start celebrating my birthday a full three days in advance, and continue celebrating it though Thursday.Let's just Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-86888608923220924752010-08-19T11:23:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:56:11.208-07:00Day #15: Keys. Let Me In! I Have to Pee!When I first started teaching at age 22, I left my keys everywhere. I didn't keep them on my regular key ring because Salem High assigns each teacher, like, 10 keys, and when I started trying to open my apartment door with my classroom keys, I decided changes must occur. The seperate keychain lead to key frequent key loss.My friends at work would find them, shove them in their desk drawers and Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-64033177290749942832010-08-17T11:24:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:51:51.826-07:00Day #14: Pets: Maybe When I'm a Big Girl.I always thought I'd have a dog by 30.Now, all you cat-lovers out there are probably thinking to yourself: Why a dog? Why not a cat?Let's just nip this in the bud right now: Cats are weird. They're weird because they're smart. Its alarming. I go into a cat-owner's home, and that cat knows I'm freaked out by its presence. The cat's like: Look at this tall, goofy-looking one. I'm gonna screw with Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-68760898516880585612010-08-17T11:21:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:50:45.053-07:00Day #13: Holidays. Who invited the Rockwells?When I was in my 20s, I envisioned a Norman Rockwell version of the holidays: My family and I are all seated around a cozy fireplace on Christmas Eve wearing coordinating sweaters, drinking eggnog and chatting about the parties we've attended this holiday season...Doesn't that sound nice? I think it sounds nice...Shame its so effing inaccurate. The following is a list of things missing from/wrongBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-77027031135131527322010-08-16T14:31:00.001-07:002011-07-30T11:56:39.563-07:00Day #12: Technology: I Miss Dial-Up.Can you believe we actually grew up without the internet? Remember when dial up was invented and AOL used to send you those CDs in the mail that would offer you "100 Hours of Free Service" that was so slow you could type in a URL, go for a jog, take a shower, make yourself a sandwich and crack open a beer while you waited for the page to load? Remember that?I actually had a Mac OS2 that I begged Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-32140926130441672172010-08-15T17:00:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:52:34.100-07:00Day #11: Holly Homemaker I Am Not.So I'm writing this after a few glasses of wine, which makes this post all the more relevant and also means I will definately have to hit spellcheck when I'm done. I have pictured myself in so many different ways over the years... As a coporate power-suit wearing city dweller. As a bohemian New Englander raising children on organic, hormone-free foods purchased from farmers markets. And, most Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-13018258886043087962010-08-14T13:12:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:47:29.835-07:00Day #10: Religion: Thanks, I'm All Set.When I stopped attending church in college, I told myself I was just taking a bit of a hiatus. A sabbatical. I'd be right back after I was finished acting like an heathen and was no longer afraid of god watching over my shoulder as I acted debaucherously.Barring weddings and funerals, I haven't been back since high school. But I got a lot of god in high school. Actually, I've been getting my Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-31444559918352291882010-08-14T12:42:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:55:38.727-07:00Day #9: Home Ownership. Part 2: Should I buy stock in Lowe's?When I was younger, I envisioned home improvement projects as being kind of cute.Yes, cute.I imagined my honey and I, paint brushes in hand, singing and dancing to the music as we tinted the walls of our little love nest. He would tap my nose with the paintbrush and get a little splotch on me. I would giggle...What I Know Now: We tackle at least two home improvement projects a year and not a one Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-44846737565404665132010-08-12T09:00:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:52:34.101-07:00Day #8: Home Ownership. Part 1: Its Not "New." Its Just New to YouI was cleaning my basement the other day (fascinating, I know), which is a bi-annual affair in the BethandMike household, because we can really eff up a basement. Items (hoses, golf balls, a hematology textbook, beer from a bachelor party that happened a year ago) enter our basement, find a comfy seat, and don't get up until I move them in 4-6 months.But while I was down there, vacuuming up Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-57019267654079950312010-08-10T11:48:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:42:57.836-07:00Day #7: Style. Where's my Power Suit?After college I moved to East-of-Nowhere New Hampshire to attend graduate school. I lived in a mouse-infested, leaky-cielinged, one-bedroom apartment on the second floor with a dead bat in the walls. I decorated the kitchen with pots to collect water and covered up the dead-bat smell with enough candles to give me regular headaches.And I dreamed of a more stylish life. One in which I was living Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-4645829225931733492010-08-10T10:05:00.001-07:002011-07-30T11:44:14.834-07:00Day #6. Vehicle. Meet My P.O.S.Throughout high school and college, I drove a 1996 Toyota Rav 4. It was periwinkle. The horn was broken, so for a while it had a sign on the back that said "Horn broken, watch for finger." It had so many college stickers adhered to the back window, you couldn't get a clear shot of the road when you looked through the rear-view mirror.I loved that thing. (FYI: In case you remember said SUV and areBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-7617700866123095682010-08-09T11:38:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:47:08.166-07:00Day #5: Customer Service: "Get It Your Damn Self."Remember when we were teenagers and went into stores in the mall and salespeople followed us around everywhere? I used to think, Wow! These folks are really attentive!In hindsight I recognize the salespeople were just waiting for me to steal something. They wanted to be nearby so that when I slipped the CD into my backpack they could -- presumably -- chase after me and tackle me to the floor Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-69074127966439016732010-08-08T11:23:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:39:03.155-07:00Day #4: Marriage: I Scored a Winner.Most women I know expected to be married by the time they turn 30. I didn't. I wish I could say I mean that in a I'm-so-fiercely-independant, who-needs-a-dude-I-can-fix-it-my-damn-self kind of way. I don't. What I mean is this: at twenty-something, when you have dated a million non-calling, unemployed, no-car-having, idiot, mamas boys who live like they rent the MTV beach house, you start Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-59333357326395442272010-08-06T19:52:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:36:36.655-07:00Day #3: Driving. Aggressively.I know people who don't like to drive. I can't relate. I love driving. I love driving so much that I chose to forgo the traditional sit-on-a-beach-while-drinking-fruity-drinks honeymoon in favor of a five-week cross country road trip.I believe my passion for driving is best expressed through my lead foot. I haul ass. When I say "I haul ass" I don't mean "60mph in a 55." I mean, "Your car Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-89229801000884131862010-08-06T16:16:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:37:16.624-07:00Day #2: Fitness FailureLast year, I ran a half marathon. For those of you who know me (I imagine that's everyone reading this blog) this may seem pretty unbelievable. If you knew me in elementary school, you would know that I was the one student in my class of 15 eighth graders who failed to pass the Presidential Physical Fitness Challenge because I couldn't run a mile in under 20 minutes.Twenty minutes.Let me put thisBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-65834766842324592272010-08-05T12:46:00.000-07:002011-07-30T11:32:40.014-07:00Day #1. Money: Where the hell is mine?Once upon a time, in a land called College, a young girl named Beth dutifully attended classes, wrote papers with all the diligence expected of her Catholic upbringing and impressed her professors in class with her insight and motivation.
And all the the Adults in this land called College told her that these exercises and courses would prepare her for a land called Reality, where people with Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8622850352642134088.post-79027537768511543772010-08-05T12:28:00.000-07:002010-08-05T12:46:12.779-07:0018 Days and Counting...On August 23rd I will turn 30.The last person I mentioned this to said "Oh god! Please don't talk about it! I don't want to think about turning 30!"Why the hell not? Its inevitable. You will age. You will do so for 30 years, barring any animal maulings, natural disasters, or plagues that could potentially put the kabosh on, you know, living.I want to state right off that I am not depressed and/orBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14329666382625119963noreply@blogger.com3