Allow me to introduce you to something special...

(apologies that all these photos are from my phone)

Meet my bench.


Or, well, what it was anyway.


It was my grandma's back in the 50s or 60s--she says it was in a model home in a housing development when they bought a house. It used to be a bright orange color all over. I'm not entirely sure why the 60s thought this was a brilliant idea, because it wasn't.


It's been sitting in our garage for at least a decade since we moved--I don't remember where it was at the old house but probably something similiar--so it was neatly covered in grime, paint, mold, and old crusty contact paper.


So first there was some major sanding, courtesy of the alley.


What a difference a little sand paper makes!


All this was made harder by the fact that I was storing it in a way that was easier than hauling it in and out of the building. I think.


Oh, and pulling off that contact paper, which was a Big Deal. But luckily I could do that one inside.


Then two layers of primer.


Three layers of paint.




Some major work on the nastiest foam and fabric you ever did see.


A new seat thanks to a borrowed staple gun and the great advice of my friend Kirstine on fabric.

And......

ta-da!


(sorry for the funky coloring, should probably take a photo in the daytime at some point)
This was only my second furniture re-do ever, after I painted a dresser bright red last fall. (okay, it was actually the third, but the second one came out so crappy that I'm calling it still a work in progress, I finally figured out the best way to fix it).

Really, really proud of myself!

Pirates 2011

think this was the game I went to by myself, that we lost 8-2 to the Astros

Dejan just asked on twitter for best memories from this Pirates season, and what a year it was. For two months there, things were really, really happening and it was incredibly amazing to finally experience some baseball success. I love the way everyone jumped right on the bandwagon, because I always knew how excited the city could get over the Pirates and it was fantastic to experience.

What sucked was that I could follow the team more from Minnesota, because I could watch them on MLB Extra Innings but when I got to Pittsburgh, they were blacked out and my parents don't have cable so I could barely follow the games. Ironic suckage.

The thing I'll remember most about those couple weeks when this team was going somewhere was having to figure out how to talk about the team and actually be amazed, instead of using sarcasm to cover up my true feelings. It was such a departure from the norm that I barely even had words to express myself and that feeling of bewilderment felt incredible.

I'll also remember when we went into our slide, and feeling actual deep disappointment. It was so raw, the kind of upset that could only follow such a high. I slipped back into my angry, sarcastic, blase treatment of the team but rather than feeling resigned, I was actually upset.

My friend Annie is my biggest baseball buddy and we made it to two games together. One was the Friday night Red Sox game that we won 3-1 with Veras pitching to Ortiz and everything just worked out perfect--game was INCREDIBLE and the crowd was AMAZING and it was just nothing like any other Pirates experience I've ever had. The other, well....the other was more like what Pirates baseball is, a 15-5 loss to the Padres with a six-run fourth inning we could never recover from.

Seems fitting that those were the ones we saw together, the great and the pathetic. I'm used to games like the one, but the first is what I've been dreaming about. I've always hoped that someday the anomaly would be flipped.

It felt good to pretend for a little while that "someday" was today.

My Favorite Road in Minnesota

I could analyze this forever, but I don't want to.

There aren't many hills around here. It's not a pancake like most of Ohio or Iowa and the Mississippi runs through a deeply cut valley--but, still, especially compared to Pittsburgh, it is flat here. Streets run straight and wide, and hills are usually so small I've gotten confused when people say "go down the big hill" in driving instructions because it wasn't big enough for me to notice as an incline.

Downtown St. Paul is set on a flood plain of the Mississippi and there's a decent sized hill to get from downtown to most of the rest of the land within city boundaries. But, even in navigating hills, streets usually remain straight and wide.

So why is this my favorite road? Well, it's narrow, curvy, and hilly. In short, it's a little piece of Pittsburgh in Minnesota.

Kids, kids, kids?

I don't really believe in signs like they're from a higher power or the universe is trying to tell me something, because something isn't a sign unless you choose to see it as one. You bring the meaning, not the universe.

Almost all of my work experience up until now has been with kids. Several teachers I really admire have commented on my natural knack with them, but I've been actively passive about committing to kids as a career path. I knew I was good with them, but I never felt like that talent was something I really wanted to use. I didn't necessarily feel passionate about kids or teaching, it was just something I did.

A young girl came into the shop today for goalie skates...I didn't really do that much besides put them on her feet, but I kept up a conversation with her and her mom for the couple minutes we were together, and honestly? It left me wanting more. I spent all last year and all summer surrounded by kids in a school setting and I was looking forward to getting a break from them. Well, I've had a whopping six weeks away and I miss them so much already. I never expected that I would feel this way. Could be the low pressure situation, but that makes it more poignant--I can't walk away from kids. Even when they aren't my choice, there they are.

I don't think it's insignificant that she was 7, and 6-7 year olds (or around first-second grade) are the ones I keep working with the most--usually through no fault of my own! But I click with them. They're old enough to be able to answer questions and get jokes, but not old enough to give you attitude or be self-conscious. And they're young enough to be easily entertained and not be shy about thinking you're the coolest thing.

So it's not so much a sign, but a moment that shows me something I didn't know about myself, makes me realize something I was ignoring. I mean, if I weren't already a kid person, that kid could've come in my shop, I would've helped her, she would've left, and I'd move on with my day, no biggie. But because somewhere I'm wondering about my future working with kids, the moment meant more.

Maybe that's really all a sign is, though, a moment that makes you stop and rethink or proves to you something that you were on the fence about. I guess I just want to make clear that "the universe" or "god" didn't provide that girl with all this meaning, I brought a certain meaning to the situation myself.

Now I just have to figure out what to do with this sign...

Who I am now.

this photo actually has nothing to do with this post except that I bought these for work and I love them already

I went to an interview yesterday at a sporting goods store and it was totally awesome. I walked into the store and am greeted with a "hey, how was your weekend?" so I started rambling about my goalie scrimmage--lord, give me half a chance, EVER, and I will talk about hockey, especially my own hockey, so he asked and I'm about to interview for a sports job, I mean, come on, let me tell you about hockey. I didn't realize I was being interviewed then but I think, honestly, if I didn't have the job before I walked in, I got it right then.

Later, the first guy goes "your application was so impressive, you have all the things we're looking for, all the people skills that can't be taught." The other one goes "I overheard you talking to him, and I was like 'who is that, they are so dynamic and friendly and obviously passionate.'"

*full stop*

You know how wild that is? I used to be the shyest person--ever. I'd walk into a store and even if I did need help, I'd say no. Or if I said no and later needed help, I'd never ask. Small talk was a whole different language. I could answer questions shortly but never, ever ask them, could not figure out how a conversation starts, or keeps going, or ends. I had no idea how to represent myself fairly and often would just be like "yeah, totally" even when I didn't really think the same as the other person. It was basically impossible for me to disagree with someone, and it was hard for me to bring up a new subject.

I am not that girl anymore. I'm just not. Sometime between graduating from high school and graduating from college, things changed. I became friendly to strangers, I became confident, I became versed in small talk. More than anything, I started to understand how to be me. How to ask questions and not feel embarassed. How to disagree with someone and have it not be a big deal. How to word things so I don't come off as abrupt and rude and aloof, when really I was just insecure and shy and uncomfortable.

It'd be unfair to myself if I said I didn't know how it happened. Some of it, yes, was seemingly overnight. But when I think back to my freshman, sophomore, junior years in college--there were so many times I forced myself to go somewhere new, forced myself to ask a question, forced myself to talk to someone I didn't know, forced myself into a new hockey situation, and was proud of the smallest step towards confidence and social skills. I worked hard to get this ball rolling--though once I really got started, it was easier to keep the ball going, which I think is where the "overnight" feeling comes in. I stopped noticing every time I talked to someone, because it stopped being a big deal.

I've been feeling discouraged about looking for jobs (honestly I wasn't looking that long, but I was still frustrated) and feeling discouraged about my future, and thinking maybe I had to re-think who I am and want to be, and forgetting all the hard work I've done to be who I am today--or maybe feeling like it didn't matter. It wasn't paying off.

And it just did. I was able to fill out a couple questions on an application, and walk into a store and come out with a JOB because of, basically, who I am and how well I am able to represent myself.

I could not be a single ounce prouder of myself than I am right now. I rock, and I know it--and more importantly, I know exactly how to show it.

So, it's, like, official. (alt title: Adventures at the DMV)

(obligatory "I swear I'm gonna use this blog now" note)

I had an interview this morning--more about that later, but I got the job! I was in such a wonderful mood, flying high, then I had a great meeting with a new teammate (more about that later, too), so I figured I'd head down to the DMV because I thought I'd enjoy sabotaging the best mood I've had in a long time because I actually had the "oomph" to get off my butt and do it for once.

Yes, I moved here officially as a resident over a year ago, but technically the car wasn't actually mine and my PA license didn't expire until 2012, so, yeah, well, I never really decided I was in the mood to waste most of a day at the DMV.

And it was a HUGE timesuck. I got downtown around noon, parked on the street, waited around, ran out to put more money in my meter terrified I would miss my call while I was out, but never fear, waited around more...didn't get called up until about one, took the written test (which was actually quite the challenge, took as much logic and test skills as tricky road knowledge), passed it, waited AGAIN, got called up again, got my photo taken, and then I was told I'll get the license in the mail in 4-6 weeeks ok whatever. Made it back to my car with five minutes on the meter--phew. Didn't really want my first act as a Minnesota licensed driver to be getting a parking ticket, thanks.

THEN since I was on a roll after spending an hour and a half at the *first* DMV, I had to go to an entirely different office to get my car registered here. Yes, you heard that right, but let me repeat it because it makes so much sense--I had to go to a different office to get the car registered. Awesome. Totally awesome.

At this point in the day, I stopped looking at the clock so I don't really know how long I waited. The first office was pretty nice and pretty quiet. The second office was in a Sears store and the atmosphere and people were, well, what you'd expect when the equation is Sears+DMV.

The person who helped me seemed as confused as I did about the forms (vindication on my part), and then she goes "That'll be $76.50" and I pull out my checkbook and she goes "Oh, no, you can't pay me, you have to sit back down and someone else will call you up."

Because that makes sense. Perfect, perfect sense.

So I wait for the FOURTH TIME TODAY to hand my already filled out check to someone *else*--literally all I had to do. This was my absolute favorite part of all the bureaucracy in action, even better than visiting two offices. God. And another 4-6 weeks until I get the actual title/registration back.

ANYWAY. The result of all of this? Besides waiting impatiently for the mail?


front plate, extra crazy because PA doesn't have one.

I've felt for so long trapped between my past (Pittsburgh) and my future (Minnesota), and really unsure about where my future is even located. This is such permanence and I got kinda emotional putting the plates on. I'm not just a visitor anymore. Today, more than any other day, I felt completely ready to commit to Minnesota--it's been somewhat inevitable for awhile, and more and more inevitable lately, but I've been tentative for various reasons (though I have made strong steps towards it, too, but still). Today, it was time.

Along with my new job, it feels like Minnesota is truly my home now, and I love every single thing about that.