Pilates

I was scrolling through Facebook at the start of last month and saw an offer for 20% off membership packages at the newest Club Pilates studio that was opening up down the street from my house. My boyfriend had bought me a 3 month membership to The Dailey Method, but alas until they move in to their permanent new studio, that membership will continue to lay dormant in my email inbox. 

Barre, yoga and Pilates classes are not cheap. I could join a regular gym, like EOS Fitness for real cheap, $15.99/month at some locations, but I LOOOOATHE the gym. I don’t know how to workout, I need someone dictating to me what to do. So, I decided to call Club Pilates and get the full details on their membership packages and specials. I’m paying $159/month for my first three months for unlimited classes and after that I have to pay regular member prices. On Friday I’ll have finished my first month. My first three weeks I was going every single day. The past week I’ve stopped my 6am classes and instead double up on the weekends and days that I’m off with my nanny family. 

I don’t see any outward changes, yet. My biceps and triceps definitely feel stronger, as do my ankles and thighs. And I’m pretty sure my butt is getting firmer too. My flexibility has also improved, A LOT, and my feet and calves are hardly ever tired anymore after a hostess shift at the restaurant. Yes, I am working out to look good for my boyfriend and surprise him when he gets back from deployment, but also for myself, I’m just tired of disliking how I look and am ready to change it.

Incorporating Pilates into my life has been easy, changing my diet though…well I’ll just say that once I get a handle on that I’ll probably have a completely new body. Full disclosure: I had delivery from Lazy Dog for dinner tonight; kids meal Fettucini Alfredo and bacon candy (brown sugar and red pepper flake coated bacon).

The bacon was delicious, the pasta was a waste of calories. Anyone else ever feel like that after a disappointing meal?

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The Sads

I’ve been a bad blogger lately, I know. Things have been mostly uneventful in my life lately. My mom was here over Labor Day weekend to celebrate my 30th birthday with me. I drove up to LA two weekends ago to meet up with two of my best friends Remy and Alejandro for a whirlwind six hours of Korean BBQ, craft cocktails and dessert. 

I’ve just been down the last few weeks. I “have” and I put have in quotations since I’ve never formally been diagnosed, functional depression. Not all depression is endless bouts of weeping and thoughts of suicide. Mine is invisible, I go to work and do responsible things like pay bills and obey traffic laws, but then I have days where the thought of getting out of bed to take a shower is daunting. I have a general lack of enthusiasm for everyday life. Special occasions like my friend Shirley’s wedding in two weeks, I’m excited for, I experience and enjoy anticipation and happiness. 

Part of what’s triggered my ennui lately is my boyfriend’s deployment homecoming was pushed back four days. It may not sound like a huge deal, but it means he misses getting to celebrate his birthday off the ship by two days. There’s also the added pressure now to pick which schools I’m going to apply to for Fall 2018. Being Type A, I of course researched every CSU (California State University) campus, then cross checked that to see 1. Which campuses offer my major and 2. Which campuses that do offer my major, are not impacted. Impacted basically means there are more people applying than the school actually has room for. Impacted = ultra competitive. 

I have my preferred list of schools narrowed down to three; San Marcos, Dominguez Hills and LA. I have a back-up/secret first choice school though, Point Loma Nazarene University. It’s a private school here in San Diego that offers an accelerated degree program. I need to meet with a counselor and have my transcripts evaluated to see if I have enough units to qualify. I’m trying SOO HARD to not get my hopes up about that school, but PLNU would be soo ideal. I wouldn’t have to leave the comfortable life I’ve made for myself in San Diego and their program only takes 15 months. 

Only, semi-major caveat: October 1st-31st is open application for CSUs. For each campus I have in mind, I have to pay a $55 application fee. Soo I need to move my ass and see a PLNU counselor and save myself $165. I did the math tuition wise and PLNU’s 15 month program would cost about the same as 2-3 year traditional Bachelor’s degree at a CSU. 

I want it you guys, I want to get in to that accelerated program more than I’ve wanted anything in quite some time. Yes, having my degree in a little over a year is the primary appeal, but I went to an open house that PLNU hosted earlier this week and the whole school and program sounded amazing, as well as the professors and current students I got to speak with. 

I think I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ve recently started going to Pilates and want to share how that’s been going. Goodnight for now!

30

I turned 30 last Sunday, on the 3rd. I haven’t posted in a while, but nothing too exciting has been happening. My boyfriend surprised me with the exact Tiffany necklace I had mentioned to him a few months ago. We were texting on my birthday and he mistakenly let slip, if my present had arrived yet. I was surprised because I had assumed my not cheap, three month Dailey Method membership was my only present, but I was quite pleasantly surprised this past Friday when UPS chucked a package on my front steps and inside was: 

My boyfriend was his usual extra self and asked if there was any significance to the necklace (I think mostly to due with the fact that it was from Tiffany than anything) and I said that yes, the significance is that that small, hard, black heart is an exact scale replica of my own.

I have a meeting to set up with my school counselor to discuss transferring to all the new schools I’ve researched that aren’t as impacted and competitive as San Diego State. 

I started the entire Gossip Girl series on Netflix over the weekend and I’m surprisingly into it. It’s so wonderfully over the top. 

Possibly Not Crappy News

Due to a slight miscommunication (having our conversations almost exclusively via text and not being able to hear the intonation, cadence, tension, emotion as an audio call would) my boyfriend is NOT coming back in January, but indeed in December! And there was much hesitant rejoicing!

I had asked him to give me his shipping address so I could send him a care package for his birthday, which is at the beginning of December and I was certain he wasn’t going to be here for it, he gets confused and asks me why I would ship him his birthday presents when he would already be home. This quickly escalates into him howling with laughter at our misunderstanding and me shouting gift ideas at him to appease me for causing the confusion. We won’t be meeting in Hawaii, but we will go to New Orleans!

He has a month long leave period between leaving his current ship and starting training for his new ship. I’m soo excited! One, yes of course to have him all to myself for several days, but mostly two: I’ve been wanting to go to New Orleans foreeever! When I was younger it was about going for Mardi Gras and partying. Now I want to museum hop and tour the cemeteries and eat the food! Although I do want to take a Lyft through one of the drive-thru daiquiri places that I’ve been told exist in Louisiana.  

Also, who else watches Game of Thrones? Who just watched this season’s finale? Giiiiirl! Shit was intense. 

Crappy News and Really Crappy News

My boyfriend woke me up at 6:32am today with the false lure of “good and bad” news. We had both originally thought/hoped/assumed/wished that his deployment would be over by some point this November. Just his personally. He has orders to start with his new ship before his current ship returns. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before, apologies for any redundancy. We had an idea to meet in Hawaii, which in my last blog was basically demolished and now…insert really offbeat drumroll…HE WON’T EVEN BE BACK IN NOVEMBER!! His “bad” news is that due to budget restrictions the soonest he would be back now is some point in December, and at the latest January. Yeah, that’s right JANUARY. As in next year, as in 2018, as in too motherfucking long. 

Want to know the “good” news? The good news is that the bad news is official. Those are his official orders! Yay. Not! 

This was so unexpected that the first ten or so minutes after he told me, I just lay in my bed looking up at the ceiling going, “Well, what the fuck.” I knew that yes, there was the chance of him not getting to come back exactly in November, but damn, January? After I had just celebrated the now mistaken fact that I thought his deployment was already halfway over and now suddenly it’s not. 

I repressed my emotions enough to shower and get ready for work and decided to be all up in my feelings on my drive to work and put on the Lana Del Rey station on Pandora. If anyone knows the San Diego area I bawled my eyes out like a heroine in a Korean drama from Pacific Beach to Carmel Valley this morning. 

I’m so disappointed and frustrated. This news, following the increasingly frustating steps it’s going to take for me to transfer and get my goddamn degree is weighing me down. Yes, I know it could be worse and he could be deployed in a combat zone, and that other milsos do this while raising kids on their own, but that doesn’t make my  heart ache any less. 

The solitary, miniscule upside is that they are in port for the next few days and we’ll have a chance to talk on the phone again soon. 

3 Months Tomorrow!

Tomorrow is the halfway point of my boyfriend’s deployment! A little sorta bad news before my happy news. Before he deployed my boyfriend and I talked about meeting each other in Hawaii at the end of his deployment. What happens is that most of the ships stop off in Hawaii for about a week or so and the sailors have the option to come back to San Diego on the ship and have a family member join them as part o f what they call the “Tiger Cruise” (no idea why it’s called that) or fly back on their own accord.

Since my boyfriend ADOOOORES Hawaii (he was stationed there for four years and has brainwashed himself into thinking it’s the best place in the world) and I wouldn’t mind a weeklong vacay on the beach after being separated for half a year we made an incredibly tentative plan to meet in Hawaii upon his return. Sadly, that is not looking like a possibility anymore. I had asked him on Gchat if I should start looking around for flight deals and he said what’s more likely to happen is that they’ll just fly him back to San Diego instead. Cue sad trombone. 

Buuut my happy news is that last week we actually got to talk to each other on the phone! They were in Abu Dhabi for a few days and on one of his many trips to the mall he bought a ridiculously overpriced international phone plan and for a glorious 17 minutes I got to hear his voice :dreamy sigh:. That phone call has been the only time, other than our brief video chat before they left Hawaii at the start of deployment that he and I have gotten to speak with each other. 

I miss him, a lot, more than I originally thought I would. 

Resentment Building

Finally texting with my boyfriend after over a week of no communication! It’s 1:03am here right now in San Diego and as usual, I’m too excited to try and sleep. They’re finally off the ship after 39 consecutive days at sea, ouch! I’m glad that I’m getting to talk to him. He’s just purchased an outrageously overpriced international phone and we shall attempt wifi enabled calling sometime in the next two days. I have a group of friend’s in town for our mutual friend Shirley’s bachelorette party so the actuality of us having time to talk is iffy. 

I’ve come to well and truly dislike that I can’t have a continuous conversation with my boyfriend. There’s so much that happens in my day, week, life in general that I don’t bother telling him about because 1. He most likely won’t be able to read it until days after it happened, 2. He’ll have no idea what or whom I’m talking about and 3. He doesn’t care/I know he can’t do anything to help me. 

I wanted to tell him all about the drunken fuck storm that was Opening Day at the restaurant (Opening Day refers to the start of the horse race season at the track by the restaurant). I wanted to tell him about the apartment hunting I’ve been doing and the endless emails. I wanted to tell him I’m going to buy a new bed and that I’ve consolidated three credit cards and want to find a new airlines to start earning frequent flier miles with (since I hear nothing good about the Virgin America/Alaska Airlines merge). I wanted to tell him gossip with my family and friends and co-workers. I want to tell him everyday that I miss him FAR MORE than I thought I would. 

I know it’s not his fault. I know he can’t control when he’s able to talk. But I still hate it. I hate that I have to wait for him to initiate our conversations. I hate that I haven’t seen his face or heard his voice in almost three months. I hate that when we do get to talk it’s usually past midnight my time. I hate that even when I’m bleary eyed and only semi conscious that I am COMPELLED to reply to him because I don’t know when I’ll get to again. I hate that I have no control. 

What I really hate is that it’s just barely halfway over. Then we get to do it all over again next summer with his new ship. 

All Work and No Play

The next two months are going to be busy, workwise. The restaurant is going through a downturn currently. We had one hostess quit already and another one whose last week is this week. We lost a busser, one server and will lose a bartender soon. If anyone reading this is in the San Diego area and had restaurant experience, I might have some leads for you!

We’re also going to lose one hostess at the end of August when she goes back to college in Virginia and another one to NYU in mid-September. All this means is…work work work. The last two weeks I’ve been doing double duty and going straight from work with my nanny family to work at the restaurant. I don’t mind, yet, I can always use the extra hours. 

Today also happens to be opening day for the horse racetrack around the corner from the restaurant. I have no idea what that means other than tonight we’re going to be hella busy. 

No new and/or exciting news with the boyfriend. Got into a minor disagreement with him over the efficacy of The Dailey Method. Has anyone seen that meme that says something along the lines of: When you’re self-aware enough to know you’re overreacting, but can’t stop yourself?” That was me. 

Next weekend I will get to play. My friend Shirley (and her friends who I’m more really aquaintances with/rest of the bridal party) will be here for her bachelorette party!

I hope everyone’s been having a more interesting July than me. 

2 Months Down

Today is officially two months since my boyfriend deployed! I’ll be really cliche and say that time has both gone by so quickly and dragged on at the same time. Like I’m surprised, “Wow two months already!” And disappointed, “Just two months.” Since he left. Working two jobs definitely has helped pass the time.

My nanny kids are both taking swim “lessons”. I put lessons in quotation marks since the baby is 2 years old and it’s a parent&me class [in which I stand in as the parent] and more of a glorified splash session than learning to stay afloat or propel themselves in the water. It’s pretty adorable. And reminds me how much I love swimming and how bummed I am that I don’t have access to a pool! Ooh well.

In the two months that my boyfriend’s been deployed I’ve develop a deep aversion to seeing other couples being affectionate in public. I officially miss having sex, now. I’m not necessarily horny, it’s more I miss being touched and hugged and petted and kissed. Other than that and not having any control of how often we get to talk to each other, it’s not so bad. 

Tomorrow I’ll be on my way up to LA to meet up with one of my best friends, Jasmine for the Blondie/Garbage concert at the Hollywood Bowl! So excite! I’ll try to remember to take pictures. I’m on the table now to get my legs waxed, then off to a friend’s pool party and work this evening. 

Enjoy your weekends!

Hostess Rant

I started hostessing extremely recently, in mid-March. I was leaving my nanny family in Chula Vista and was starting my search for a new second job. I searched Care.com to find another potential family I could work with two days out of the week. I also looked on craigslist for restaurant/hospitality jobs since working the weekends would open up my potential to make more money and with my boyfriend deploying, working weekends wouldn’t be an issue. I randomly applied to the restaurant I work now and started training less than a week after I dropped off my application. 

I like the job, it’s fun and a welcome change of responsibility and scenery after being with children from infancy to five years old for the past five years. 97% of the time everything is going well, my co-workers (namely the servers, but also the bussers, bartenders and food runners) and I help each other out, I can and am left alone to seat guests often and the guests themselves are polite and don’t require anything from me other than a menu and to know where the bathroom is. 

Tonight I had one of those 3% exceptions. I will admit I was partly at fault. I was seating a walk in (meaning no reservation) two people, a couple and showed them to their table. They saw another table (this one right by the edge of our balcony and directly in front of their table) and asked to sit there instead. I said it would be fine and gave them their menus. I go back inside and my manager tells me he was saving that table for a reservation we had coming in soon for an anniversary. I go back out to the table I just sat and explain the situation, and before I can even finishing saying, “switch tables,” the “gentleman” cuts me off,

“We’re already sitting down. And we’re ready to order. They can just sit at that other table…” 

I didn’t hear the rest of what he had to say as I walked away, FUMING. He was such an entitled, arrogant dickbag that my manager saw how clearly upset I was and sat the next two parties when I came back and let me answer phones. A middle aged man, basically acting like a spoiled child, “Finders keepers!”.

Ooh my god it just pissed me off so bad. I’m aware I don’t have a particularly glamorous or prestigious job title and I am fine with that. But when I am obligated to be professional and polite to someone who clearly doesn’t believe I deserve to have that reciprocated is flat out insulting.

:le sigh: I’m better now.