Update:

I just heard one of the stories I wrote this morning read during the hourly newscast. I can't even describe how cool/amazing this feels. I haven't been this excited about a job since...well, since I can't even remember.

Reason #2 for total and complete excitement: C-Crew Reunion 4.0 (three times in one year!) coming up this weekend as well as Julie's wedding! Whoop whoop!

In Other News

I was up at 3:30 this morning so I could be on the road by 4:30. Why, you ask? Well, I'm so happy to answer that question for you. Because, my friends, I am the newest News Girl (not my official title) at one of our local radio stations, known for it's award winning news program. Feel free to congratulate me.

Some of you may remember a while back when I mentioned sending them an e-mail expressing my desire to merge back into the field of communications. As I wrote at the time, I had an interview and then waited for about a month while they continued conducting interviews.

After the first week of October went by, I started checking my e-mail more intentionally and was getting ready to send one to them myself just to test out the waters, but I got swamped under special events planning for my other job. I eventually got back in touch with the company and found that the position was still available.

This brings us to the present. I exchanged several e-mails/phone calls and we pegged down this morning as my first day. I'm going to be helping with the morning drive as training until I start on a weekend position. Meaning, the 18-hour/3 job days will not be forever.

I am wicked stoked. I mean, for the first time in two years I'm actually doing something that I was trained to do in college. Granted, it's not print journalism, but in my eyes, radio's the next best thing. Mark Perry would be proud.

Despite having to wake up at 3:30 a.m., I am in such a good mood. I couldn't be happier about the current situation.

A Detailed Description of a First Date

I was quite surprised when I received Mr. Boston's call two Saturday's ago. We had been in contact back in September before I traveled to Pittsburgh for Miss Sanders wedding shower, but for whatever reason, we just couldn't set a date. Combine this with the fact that I am a firm believer in what I call the one-week-rule. This is similar to the "Friend Zone" in Scrubs. Basically, from the time you meet someone new to the first date there is a maximum of 7 days to make this happen. After that week grace period has passed, your face will be distorted in all your pictures and you will die a plethora of different issues are confronted. Such as:

• You're comfort zone becomes a texting/voice mail relationship
• You develop a texting relationship placing more pressure to connect during a first date
• When said first date does occur after so much time has elapsed and the chemistry you thought would be present is absent, well that just makes everything more awkward when you have both been waiting so long
• The potential of meeting someone else and loosing interest in candidate #1

However, when Mr. Boston called, enough time had gone by that the one-week-rule had reset. We made plans for that evening and 8:15 p.m. found me at one of my favorite restaurants.

I arrived first and sent him a text letting him know it was about a 30-minute wait and I had put our names on the list. He called a moment later telling me he had arrived and asking me where I was. I walked outside to greet him and we went in to sit at the bar while we waited for our table.

Before I say anything else, let me say that I looked hot. Like, smoking hot. And Mr. Boston isn't so bad himself. This means that I'm the closest I've been to the "Matching Phenomenon" since I was with The Marine (you'll have to scroll down a bit to find the right entry. I just lost myself reading my old xanga site. Perhaps you will too?).

I have to say, the date went well and there was never an awkward lull in conversation. However, he did swear a lot and that was a huge turn off for me. I also got the sense that he's a drinker which is another no-no in my book, but, eh, not a deal-breaker at this point in time. All-in-all, though, the overall shining quality about this date was my own mental and emotional break-through that I experienced. Throughout the whole night I was nothing but blatantly honest with him about my faith, who I am, and what I want. And wouldn't you know it, Mr. Boston absolutely loved how confident and passionate I am.

At the end of the night, we were standing out in the parking lot and the conversation went a little something like this:

Mr. Boston: Well, clearly, obviously we're going to get together again
Me (teasing): Hmm, is that clearly obvious to me?
MB (laughing): No, you're totally right, it's your call. But, I had a wonderful time tonight and would love to see you again.
Me: I had a great time tonight too. But, I'm going to be brutally honest with you. I don't play hard-to-get but I am hard-to-get. I know I'm a catch and if you want anything with me you're going to have to work really hard. If that intimidates you than that's a good thing. I don't mean to sound egotistical, but I'm an incredibly worthy person and I say that mostly because I haven't always seen myself that way. I know exactly what I want. I know exactly what I want. That's probably why I'm still single, but I don't mind waiting for something good.
MB: Wow. *pause* Wow, I have never had a girl be that honest with me and that is so incredibly sexy. I love that you know what you want out of life and I am totally ok with that.

Wow! Who woulda thunk that all those MSN articles I've read about guys loving confidant girls were right? The funny thing is, I wasn't even being confidant to impress him, I was being confidant for myself. For too long, the only criteria a guy needed to have to be with me was that he liked me. I'm not sure why I always had such low self-esteem when it came to relationships, I had all the pieces. I guess I just didn't know how to put them together. I didn't have the experience of learning to be comfortable in my own skin.

We didn't get together this past weekend because he didn't make it down to the Cape. He'll be down this weekend for his birthday, but I'm not sure how that's going to work since my weekends already pretty booked. Hopefully we can figure something out or else we fall back into the one-week-rule.

Oh well, as I told him after our date, even if we come out with a great friendship, I'm all set. And yes, I know guys hate being put into the "Friend Zone." Don't worry, Mr. Boston, you're not there....yet.

First Dates, Quality Time, & Weight Loss

It's been an eventful past couple of weeks. I have several stories to tell and I'm not necessarily in a writing kind of mood, so I'll use the ever-popular bullet points.

1. Two weeks ago (October 11 to be exact), the one-and-only Christina had herself a date. I had been in contact with a certain gentleman last month and for one reason or another our plans kept falling through. He lives and works in the Boston area so we'll just call him Mr. Boston for now (in no way, shape, or form related to the celebrity). Randomly, I received a call from him on the 11th informing me that he would be on the Cape (where he grew up) for the long weekend and wanted to know if I was available for dinner that night. I was available and we did have dinner. It was a successful first dates as first dates go and we'll most likely be getting together again. More details to come.
2. My father, sister, and niece were visiting my dad's side of the family in upstate New York all last week leaving plenty of Mommy & Me time. My mom and I don't have a history of being the best of friends, but in the past year we've really been getting along great. I spent all day Sunday and Columbus Day with her (mostly because I came down with an awful cold Sunday night), as well as Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday night and Sunday afternoon waiting for the rest of the family to return from Buffalo.
   Some of the activities we enjoyed were:
   -Going to an Artisan Fair on Sunday and getting started on our Christmas shopping
   -Watching all 6 hours of the BBC version of Pride & Prejudice
   -Watching some tear-jerker movies on the Hallmark Channel
   -Cooking together
   -Organizing my CD collection into the new case I purchased last week
3. My co-worker/friend is going to work for another company beginning next week. Who the crap am I going to have lunch with now? Or go on weird diets and weigh myself with? Speaking of weighing, we weighed ourselves this morning and I've lost 10 pounds since I started this weird candida diet two weeks ago. Go me!
4. The Red Sox are not going to the World Series. This means I've lost sleep and stayed up to watch nail-biter games for nothing. On a related topic, someone take Tampa Bay's temperature, the mercury in the cow-bell thermometer is spiking through the top.
5. The Roomie and I finally turned the heat on last night. This, or course, was after I spent all day Saturday cleaning the cat hair from the previous renters out of the vents. Now we are cozy and warm with no fire hazard or allergy inflammations.

Stay tuned for details on my date coming....uh...when I feel like it?

Why All I Can Now Is Dirt

Candida: Candida is a symbiotic yeast, which lives in us and on us, as part of our normal collection of microorganisms. Candida yeasts are symbiotic organisms; everyone has lots of them. Yeasts overgrow when conditions are right for them and they can be a nuisance. You cannot get rid of all yeast. You hope to find an ecological balance, with yeast growing at a controlled rate, below the symptom-producing level.

Some of the symptoms include (but are not limited to):

• An incapacitating fatigue
• Problems with concentration and short-term memory
• Indigestion/acid reflux
• Intense cravings for carbohydrates and/or sugars
• "Crawling" skin
• Visual disturbances may include blurring, sensitivity to light and eye pain.
• Irritability
• Anxiety
• Recurring obsessive thoughts
• Personality changes and mood swings (irrational rage or crying for no reason - fear of talking to people, any kind of confrontation, isolation)
• Shortness of breath
• Dizziness and balance problems
• Sensitivity to heat and/or cold
• Alcohol intolerance
• Gluten and/or casein intolerance
• Abdominal bloating
• Dryness of the mouth and eyes
• Menstrual problems including PMS and endometriosis
• Eczema
• Allergies and sensitivities to noise/sound, foods, odors, chemicals
• Anemia
• Weight changes without changes in diet
• Feeling in a fog

It just so happens that I included all of my symptoms on that list, which is much longer and much more extensive. The hard thing about candida is that so many of the symptoms could be related to something else. So, how do I know that this is what I have and not some other debilitating disease? Easy. My chiropractor told me so. And then my witch doctor confirmed it....I mean uhhh....

In all actuality, I probably would've ignored my symptoms and continued to feel miserable and exhausted all the time (and no, the 60 hour work weeks don't contribute to that in the least); however, my sister had candida yeast as a child which caused my entire family to change our lifestyle and go on the "candida diet."

Let me give you a brief walk through of what my diet consists of these days.

Morning: Take 2 anti-fungal pills (kills the yeast overgrowth), take 2 garlic pills (also an anti-fungal), 1 multi-vitamin, 1 fiber pill.
Evening: Same as above, except no multi-vitamin and I take 2 fiber pills and two probiotic pills (the healthy bacteria in the body that needs to be replenished).
My meals in between consist of absolutely no carbs, no sugars (not even natural sugars from fruit), no dairy (as well as certain other foods to stay away from such as mushrooms and peanuts), and *gasp!* no alcohol . It's a good thing I'm not a big drinker anymore or I'd be screwed.

Now, I know you're all highly interested in the inner workings of my body, but hey, this is the most exciting thing happening in my life right now. And by exciting, I mean the bane of my existence. I must say, though, I've had much more energy since I've been doing this for the past week and no more indigestion. Saints be praised! I've also had much more tears shed when a co-worker brings in a freshly homemade apple pie that I can't have.

Nevertheless,* the really interesting thing about this is that even though I'm a healthy eater to begin with—lots of fresh produce, legumes, only lean meats, etc.—this is teaching me so much about how the human body operates, how intricate it is, and how important it is to maintain this fine balance on which we all operate.** Besides, staying away from all the processed, fatty foods can only do me good, right? And maybe, just maybe, I'll finally get rid of those love handles.

*Yeah, that's right, I busted out a nevertheless! How's that for being a grammar nerd?
**Bam, the grammatically correct sentences just continue to flow

Jamaican Cooks & The Fact That All I Can Eat Now Is Dirt

Nigh on a month ago I started hearing whisperings among the bell staff at the Wequassett regarding one of the cooks. Since, at this point, I had only been working at the resort for about three months—and only part time at that—I had no idea who they were talking about until one of them oh-so-casually mentions how he thinks this cook and I should exchange numbers. I asked who he was and realized I had seen him once or twice. Since he wasn't too bad on the eyes I felt a little complacent about the whole thing.

Here we see:
Error #1: I told this particular bellman, "Do whatever you want."

The next time I was at the employee kitchen for my break, I notice this particular cook, we'll call him Murphy (mostly because that's his name and he will never come across this blog). Murphy comes up to me and starts asking me what I like to do, where I like to eat, etc. etc. I gave him no definite answer and slyly remove myself from the situation.

Here we see:
Error #2: Failing to tell him ASAP that I am uninterested.

Fast forward to about two weeks ago when one of the bellman hands me a slip of paper with Murphy's phone number. "Are you kidding me?" To which my only response was, "He's waiting for yours." "Yeah, 'cause that's clearly gonna happen," I responded while throwing the piece of paper away. I was than berated by said bellman for not giving Murphy a chance and what a nice guy he was.

Here we see:
Error #3: Not sticking to my guns and knowing that Jamaicans/Foreigners are persistent as hell.

From that point onward it just went from bad to worse. The other bellman in the duo collaborators took my phone number from the employee list and gave it to Murphy under protest from me and later that night, at a farewell party for the digit lifting culprit, Murphy and said bellman convinced me to go out to dinner with him that Saturday night (that Saturday night being this past Saturday night).

Here we see:
Error #4: Me actually agreeing to go out to dinner with him just to get him to stop bothering me. HA! Giving in is actually more of an incentive for Jamaicans/Foreigners to stalk you.

Since that point, last Tuesday night, until the next time I worked on Thursday night, Murphy called me a total of seven times in a two-day period. Let me repeat that for emphasis, seven times in a two-day period. He called me not once, not twice, but three times on Tuesday night when I didn't pick up right away because, you know, I was sleeping to "make sure I made it home ok" after the aforementioned farewell party. He called me four different times on Wednesday. No messages, just missed calls 20 minutes apart. He called me twice on Thursday before I got to work.

At this point I realized my fatal errors and knew that there was no other way to stop the insanity except to go into uber-bitch mode. The thing is, I legitimately couldn't go out with him on Saturday night due to plans that I forgot about in the heat of the uncomfortable moment that was Tuesday night. However, when I tried to tell him this, he got mad at me for not returning his calls. Is it just me, or is he sounding a lot like a jealous lover? So, he got mad and demanded that I tell him why I hadn't returned any of his phone calls. The exchange went a little something like this:

Murphy: Why didn't you call me back?
Me: Why didn't you leave a message?
Murphy: I didn't want to be charged on my phone. I just wanted to say hi.
Me: You were already calling me, what's so hard about leaving a message saying, 'Hey Christina, just wanted to say hi and see how you are doing?"
Murphy: I told you, because I didn't want to be charged for the airtime.
Me: But you were already calling me. Besides, why would you continue to call and call and call? Why would that make me want to call you back?
Murphy: I wouldn't have continued calling if you had called me back.
Me: So you're punishing me for not returning your calls? If I don't return your calls then you're just going to continually call me and leave no message?
Murphy: No, that's not what I meant.

Etc., etc. Basically he held me 30 minutes beyond my normal half hour break to fight with me about going out with him. Correct me if I'm wrong, but why would this make me want to go out with him? Am I all of a sudden convinced that, yes, this is a good idea because you sat there and fought with me about how I need to give you a chance and you're a great man? Of course! How could I be so blind! I mean, really people, what's the delio? Why are guys so persistent when it's clear that the woman involved is not interested? And you wonder why we can be such bitches. Take the hint. If I didn't call you back it's because I wasn't interested. And how much pleasure would he really have from taking a woman out to dinner only because he forced her into it?

Thankfully, since our little "chat" on Thursday (the last time I worked), he has not called at all. Something tells me I'm going to be taking my breaks at home from now on seeing as I live a minute away from the Wequassett. Add to that the fact that all I can eat is dirt now and I think that's a good reason to avoid the employee kitchen all together.

Post on why I can only eat dirt now coming soon....or not so soon, depending on my motivation.

Sunset

Yesterday the sky was full of clouds. Dark, menacing, Autumnal clouds. The kind of clouds that bring October storms and leaves plastered to your windshield, stuck in your wipers when you try to whisk them away. The kind of clouds that broke every so often to let a solitary beam of sunlight through to illuminate the earth in stark contrast to the dark sky.

Driving home from work last night the sun had sunk low enough on the horizon to break through the gray covering and send forth one final shout of hope. It cried out, "I am here!" in violent shades of fuscia. The sunset was a perfect combination of the dark purple of the clouds lit from underneath in layer upon layer of magenta and orange. In the West, where the sky was clear, a shimmering golden haze was all that could be seen. I wished that I was driving toward it instead of East. Every time I looked in my rearview mirror, the colors became more and more faded, dying embers of a once heroic, passionate stand against the oncoming night.

I looked at the clock: 6:30. Night comes so soon and winter is setting in creating a chill in my bones amplified by the fact that we have yet to turn the heat on in the apartment. The time has come to switch over my closet and put extra blankets on my bed. 'Tis the season of soups and humidifiers, chapped lips, cold hands and feet, and the deep desire for days of summer.