San Diego is amazing because there is always something to do. I don't always feel like this though. There are plenty of days when I get sick of living here and wish I was in New York or especially Boston because I feel like I could never run out of things to do there. I guess it's because of the fact that once you get used to something you seem to forget how truly wonderful it is. Well, this was one of the days when I remembered how much I love America's Finest City. Maybe it had something to do with waking up to the rain. That's right folks, it rained today. I miss rain. A lot. So the few times it happens here my spirits are instantly lifted (strange, I know). Once the rain cleared up, I found myself in Pacific Beach wondering how such a gloomy day had turned into an absolutely perfect day. The kind of day where the sky is that sparkling shade of crystal blue and the clouds look good enough to take a nap on - or take a bite out of (I swear they looked like cotton candy). So, in this perfectly, wonderful day, Todd and I found ourselves following our stomachs (surprise, surprise) to a restaurant near the bay. But when we found out the restaurant we were looking for didn't really exist, I suggested Old Town for lunch. This was a great idea. It didn't seem like a good idea when we got there and saw that all the streets were closed... but it turned into the best decision of the day when we found a spot right next to the main road and saw that there was an art festival going on. We walked the streets looking at all of the interesting artwork - things that I would never buy, and things I wished I had an extra 500 bucks lying around for so I could take it home right away. There's something about roaming around and looking at things - just admiring beautiful things people put so much time into making. It makes me happy, and it made me feel thankful for the mixup that got us there. Sometimes you have to be thankful for the little things in life. Like the unexpected finding of an interesting art fair on a Saturday afternoon.
Take Me Out to the Ball Game
I like baseball, which is weird because I'm not much of a sports fan. I don't like football, basically because I don't get it. My mom has been on me about this forever. Apparently football is really easy to understand and I need to like it because it's something I'll have to watch with my boyfriend, guy friends, etc. Well, thank goodness I'm dating Todd. He doesn't force me to watch football, I think because he gets as bored as I do after a couple of games. I don't know about you, but Sunday football is only fun for me if there is food involved (a theme you will see a lot in these posts). Anyway, I think I don't really care about sports because I never played them. My parents tried to get me to play, but found me quitting after a year, or even a few practices. Maybe it has something to do with a basketball memory that sticks in my mind even now, something like 10 years after it happened - I get the ball, I dribble down the court, my fans (aka mom) are cheering me on, I approach the basket, I shoot... I overshoot. The ball goes over the backboard. Sigh. This is why I don't like sports. So, baseball. I'm writing about baseball because tonight I'm going to a Padres game. Make that my third Padres game of the week. That's right, I've become some sort of baseball pro. Monday was a game with my family, Tuesday was a game with work and tonight is a game, just because. Padres games are fun because they're so easy to do. You park downtown, pay five bucks for a ticket, walk in and watch the game. Or, you can do what Todd and I did. We bought a nine-pack of tickets. We basically got to choose nine games to go to for pretty cheap. We sit in the same seats every game, so it's kind of like we're season ticket holders or something. Very baseball savvy. This is our last game of the pack, and I must admit, I'm a little sad. Going to the games has been fun, even if I'm feeling a bit baseballed out. Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks. No seriously, I'm really looking forward to that. And the hat shuffle. Go Padres!
TKO
I have a gym membership. This is a bold statement (no pun intended) that should mean more than what it actually does - a few hour long visits a couple times a week and a 300 dollar bill. Okay, I actually don't have the bill anymore, since I paid everything at once, but still, I should be making the most of my money. But, let's be serious... when it comes to 5:30 and I'm heading home from a long day of work, do I really want to put on my sneakers and my boxing gloves (more of that later) to be forced into near death from asthma attack for an hour? Not really. What I'm getting at is that it's so incredibly hard to get motivated to work out when all I want to do is sit around and do nothing. And the weekend is no different. Believe me, I have a whole bunch of excuses to get me out of picking myself up and going to the gym on a Saturday or Sunday. Most of them go a little something like, "it's my only day to sleep in," but really, it's just me being lazy. Oh, did I mention my so-called gym membership expires in four days? As much as I sound like someone who hates to work out, I don't. Yeah, it takes me a little longer to actually get up and do something, but once I do, I feel great. Especially after a workout at my gym. I go to the Boxing Club, and for those of you who haven't heard of it, it's basically a place to go get you butt kicked and sweat probably somewhere near a gallon of water.
The great thing about it though, is that you really feel like you accomplished something. No walking around the gym for a half hour wondering what the heck you're doing there or taking a walk slash run on the tredmill that turns into mostly walking. There's none of that at there. This place is intense. So intense that I'm pretty sure I have a mean right hook now and could probably knock a few people out. I've also become a pro at jump squats (which you do about 300 of per class) and have even come to love the old "drop and gimme 40" routine. So, with only four days left, I'm going to try hard to go every day... staring today. Maybe I'll even get up early and go to the 6:30 class tomorrow! Hmmm, I take that back. I'm sleeping in.
Spontaneity.
I just bought airline tickets. To where, you might ask? San Francisco! It's a city I've only been to twice, but still absolutely love. I think it's because I've always been there during the same time, - Octoberish - and it always feels like fall. Living in San Diego, you rarely get that fall feeling. There is something about waking up in the morning to crisp air and having to wear a jacket because, well, it's actually cold outside. So, I'm going. And, boy am I excited. Buying airline tickets is scary though. It's one of those oh my gosh I can't go back and change things kinds of purchase. I'm pretty sure I read over all my info at least ten times, but I'm still worried that I got something wrong. Why the distress? The money, of course. Being a grown-up means you have to handle your own money (in case you hadn't noticed yet), and that can be one very scary thing. I've made my share of mistakes, particularly when it comes to not checking my account to make sure I've transfered enough funds. This usually makes me mad because it's not that I don't have any money in my bank account, it's just that I'm too lazy to sign onto my account and actually make sure I've given myself enough funds to keep swiping away. For the most part, I'm okay though, and this is why... I've come up with a system that works well for me. And, while I by no means want to tell you all how to manage your dollars, maybe this will work for you, too. Per paycheck, I give myself $300. This is my spending limit for two weeks for basically everything food, fuel and fun related. The rest, I save. It's been a nice way for me to have fun and still have extra money, just in case. The best part about it is that I can go places like San Fran on a whim and not have to worry about spending too much. There's a ton or great articles about saving money, many of which I'm sure I should refer to more often. I'm pretty sure it's time for me to start a countdown though. 46 days, woohoo! Bring on the paychecks and bring on the days - I'll be in San Fran before I know it!
Mmm, Sunday
Sundays are great. Mainly because there's something about Sunday that screams you can and should do nothing. And, that is exactly what I'm doing. After church and my little sister's back to school picnic this morning, I'm back basking in the glory of a beautiful Sunday in one of my favorite places - my bed. Maybe I should be outside doing something active and enjoying yet another cloudless day in sunny San Diego. Maybe I should be cleaning my room (which seems to have exploded again), or finally washing my car. But, you know what? I don't have to, so I guess I won't. I've been thinking a lot lately about being able to do whatever I want, and I'm realizing more and more just how lucky I am. For a lot of people, it's all about growing up. Little girls want to be teenagers so they can finally wear makeup and fit into their mom's clothes and shoes. Little boys want to grow up so they can play football in the park with their friends way past dark. Even I (who would have liked to stay a kid forever) have daydreamed about being older, having kids and what my life will be like when I'm, say, 40. Sometimes I want those things. Other times I want to just lie in my bed for hours doing absloutely nothing. And those are the times that I realize how much I need to enjoy right now. Someday I'll have responsibiliteies more than work and taking care of myself and my little apartment. I'm excited for those days, but today, I just want to be happy knowing I have an entire, glorious 24 hours to just do nothing.
No more pencils, no more books, no more... WHAT?!
Graduating from college is a huge accomplishment. It means you've somehow survived something along the lines of 17 years of school (give or take a year for you super seniors). It also means you will soon be thrust into the world of adulthood. Even those who can manage putting off entering the big, scary grown-up realm by traveling or simply enjoying one last summer, will someday reach that moment where it's time to figure things out. And, while growing up is fine and dandy, realizing that it's all over - really, really over - is a big step. Since I graduated a semester early, I thought the equally hated and anticipated "back to school" time wouldn't affect me. Well, I was wrong. There is something strange about not having to buy books or pens or a million other things that used to encompass the shopping sprees leading up to school. It really hit me that school and all that goes along with it was over for me when I was shopping a few weeks ago. I didn't really have anything in particular to buy, but as I was browsing the aisles, I ended up face to face with the school supplies. It was like a standoff occured, an inner turmoil between my childhood self and the adult me, suddenly no longer needing these things. Would I ever need to buy crayons again? Probably not for myself, anyway. What about those cool binders that I used to decorate with pictures and stuff needless sheets of papers into until they were bursting at the seams? I guess not. Hmm, this was stranger than I thought. Since my shopping experience, I've realized that it's just plain weird to not be in school, but at the same time oh, so exciting. For those of you still experiencing the post-graduate freak out, check out this site. As for me, I think I'll start visiting the office supply room more often.
Why, hello there!
Somehow, it seems, you have stumbled onto my blog. Welcome! Since this is my first post, I think it's appropriate to introduce myself and explain why I'm doing this. My name is Amanda (as you may have seen in my introduction) and I'm in my twenty's. Okay, I'm 22, but I tend to avoid saying this as it makes me feel so young. It's much better than saying "hi, I'm 21" though, which I quickly got sick of a couple months post-birthday. Anyway, since I am 22 and have been going through a lot of personal and professional changes, I decided it might be beneficial to myself and others my age to blog about my experiences and tips I've found about surviving this trying time (okay, being 22 isn't that harsh, but I had to say that for the sake of pure drama). I'm hoping I'll be able to share what I've been learning (and believe me, I learn something new everyday) and maybe be able to make sense of it all. So here goes... This begins the thoughts of me, a twentysomething.