Blah. Quadruple blah (i.e. blahblahblahblah). Crazy that, with so much positive change happening in life, I am caught up in the temporary negativity of my job. Temporary being a misnomer; I've been way too busy for about a month now, working at least ten hours every weekend in addition to the 45 or 50 hours during the week itself. I dig my job, but still haven't figured out how to draw that line and stick up for myself, for my endeavors.
But let me fill you in. Likely, if you're reading this you at least have some inkling of what has been happening en la vida Calvino, but I'll update anyway. Let's see... somewhere in the middle of October, I got my little paws on a most immaculate diamond ring. Since white gold and diamonds don't match my eyes, I decided to pass it on to the love of my life. After much haggling with her father for permission, I got the green light and asked Lauren to marry me at 1:00am on Saturday, October 27 (notice: I'm so-so with dates, but by chronicling the engagement in this blog I am [hopefully] avoiding the inevitable occasion when I forget said anniversary). We were up at her family's cabin in Garden Valley. It was beautiful.
That very Saturday, Lauren and I drove back into Boise and began house hunting. Seriously! We had decided we would not live together again until engaged, and although the house-hunting was at first an innocent afternoon time killer we soon became sucked in to the lovely whirlwind of home buying. We checked out maybe eight houses that afternoon and only toured four of them. The final house we toured, a 1905 bungalow located just a few blocks off State Street in the 'north end' of Boise, was disturbingly alluring. You know me well enough, I suspect, to ascertain that I take months to decide on substantial purchases. It would straight-up piss my sister off how calculated I was with my allowance and savings; so it surprised me more than anyone to make a $200k offer on something I'd seen only three days prior.
Three agonizing weeks later I got the house keys, and a clicker to my very own garage. Very own! The entire house is amazing, but the thought of having my own little work space drilled in the reality. Ah, so male sometimes, aren't I? The rest of the house is wonderfully eccentric, though quite functional: lofted ten-foot ceilings, hardwood floors, a potbelly wood stove in the main room, a loft with skylights, energy-savvy washer and dryer, stainless steel pert-near brand new fridge.... geeze. My sister even approved, claiming during her recent visit that my house was gorgeous, of which I can't take too much credit. Lauren has been going nuts. It's awesome to see her fulfilling her girly dreams in our house. We've had our challenges of compromise, sure, but anytime I surrender to her decorating desires I am blown away by the results.
Now... back to my job. It's an extra kick in the crotch not to have time to rake my yard! We have done a great job of avoiding the typical pile-up of boxes that happens when moving, but I have a list of tasks I am looking forward to simply because I have never owned a house or property before. I think the job is tapering. Heck, I have been saying that for months and the best that happens is a temporary undulation that instills false hope. It is my own fault for not being able to draw the line, and not being willing to take a hit by slacking a little. I have been in similar situations in life though with different ingredients, but here I am again trying to juggle three or four aspects while not wanting to be less-than-stellar in any of them. Fiance, Engineer, Cyclist, Brother and Son. Back in the crux of feeling so-so at all four because I won't let a single entity drop even a smidge. Something might crack soon, though this seasonal break could save me yet.
I will post pictures next blog. I would do it now but my camera and the transfer cord are in the other room... lazy? Ummm... I rode an hour outside then another three on the rollers this evening, so I am not sure lazy is an accurate adjective. More like anti-social: Lauren is having a party of sorts and invited all of her summer counselors from the girl scout camp. There are no males out there. It's not a matter of feeling intimidated. I am trying to let them be girly-girls and talk about girl things without inhibition. And yes, I'm being anti-social as well.
If you look back a year or so at previous blogs, I am confident you'll find mention of the twisted irony of training during this time of year. To go fast when it's warm, you have to train a whole lot when it's cold (nothing to do with temperature, just timing). The 'base' period of training occurs during the wintry months and involves more hours per week than any other time during the year. The challenge of logging 20 hours per week of ride time in Boise, in December, pushes the limits of time management, personal dedication, and sanity.
Along those lines, and yet completely random, here is a hooray list of my appreciation. Hooray for:
Sci-fi Audio Books: Especially Philip K. Dick's "A Scanner Darkly" read by Paul Giamatti
Peppermint Mocha Coffee Creamer: Brought to you by the seasonal elves at Internal Delight
Bulk Powdered Cheese: Nothing warms the soul like cheesy couscous after a winter bike ride
Rumplemintz and Hot Cocoa: Goes well with cheesy couscous? Goes well with anything.
Devotchka: Most amazing indie show I've seen in years. Highly recommend their 2004 disc "How it Ends".
Self-Parking Lexus: Pretty ballsy, and not a single child has been run over yet.
Ronco: dehydraters, juicers, dicers... billionaire. Genius.
