It is what it is.

A New Page

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 12:34:00 +0000

... or paigel, as the case is today. This morning marked the official launch of my new website, paigel.com, which will house my blog, some pictures and a variety of other things.

So this is a bittersweet goodbye to Blogger. It's been a great and simple platform for the craziness that is my life, but it's time to move on.

Thanks to all of my readers. And, if you want to still follow the wacky things that happen to me on a daily basis, head on over to paigel.com.

Much love,
-P.

New things...

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 01:49:00 +0000

Well, I'm almost ready to launch the new site. I caved in, moved everything over to WordPress, and will continue blogging over there once I have all the pieces together [hopefully by the end of this week].

I'd love to give you all the details, but that would spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?

So, to the faithful readers of paigepresley.blogspot.com, I will soon be leaving this blog behind to start a new venture.

See you on the other side!

Our Options

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 14:00:00 +0000

Today, during a nice long walk with Maggie, I saw a bumper sticker on the back of a car that said:

Change is inevitable. Struggle is an option.

It really made me think, even if it was for only a minute. But here I am again, not able to get it out of my mind.

I've been grappling with the frustration of finding balance in the grey area between what is acceptable and what is [grossly] unacceptable.

Sometimes, it's something as small as the pile of oats that sat in the hallway of my building. For an entire week. And the broken handle at the parking lot entrance that dangled for two weeks.

But other times, it's the big stuff. Should I look for something greater? Or should I wait until my life is more stable? Should I give up these things that I love, but just don't have time or money for... so that I can do the things that make the money, but take the time?

I'd love to tell you that I came up with the answer, the cure-all. And I guess I sort of did, but it takes a lot of understanding- the kind that many people just don't have [unfortunately].

What it all comes down to is faith. Whether it's faith in your situation, in yourself or in a higher being, find that faith and hold on to it. It teaches you that not only is it ok to struggle, but it's important that you do. Because when you're going in circles on these questions, trying to figure out what you can and can't let go of, your faith will ground you and give you the peace of mind you need to function.

So, spend today finding your faith. Hold on to it. And most importantly, share it.

What do I say?

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 03:39:00 +0000

Seriously, what do I say to you when I haven't updated in nearly a month? No, my near anaphylactic shock did not kill me. Yes, my face has returned back to normal. And, thanks to my daily Zyrtec, I can breathe. Every day. Sans hives.

As I've mentioned in previous [near death] posts, I've been working feverishly on a new website. Well, that fell through. So I've spent this weekend doing two things: roasting by a pool and working on another new website. It's almost time to unveil said website, but I'd like to get a few more details ironed out, so you're just going to have to wait a bit longer.

And once I'm done spending most of my free time fixing up the new site, I promise I'll have more meaningful posts up here. But until then, here's to a great week.

What's going on?

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Thu, 14 May 2009 03:50:00 +0000

I do believe that 4 Non Blondes' song, "What's Going On," has been my life's theme song for about two years now, but it's been more fitting than ever this week.

I don't really know how to tell the story other than to just say that I've had a headache for a month, an eye twitch for a few solid weeks, and I just recently broke out into hives, which caused my face to swell a bit. [Pictures below. Please don't be frightened.]

So, Internet, I'm sorry for having a lack of meaningful posts on here. But as you can see, I have a lot of issues to deal with right now.

However, you should know that I've got my website almost ready to go. So I'll send out a quick blast to let you know where to go. [And you'll still be able to read the blog here, you'll just be missing out on all the other great stuff on the site!]

Here's to hoping my face returns to normal before work tomorrow, and that I'll get a real post up before the weekend.

In the end, it was a success.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 04:36:00 +0000

Saturday was a rough day. But when I really think about it, the months leading up to Saturday made it seem par for the course.

I had been training for the Country Music Marathon/Half Marathon since November. I started out training for the full marathon- hoping to improve on last year's time- but stomach issues kept me from getting a single good workout. So I switched to the half marathon training program.

At that point, my life became infinitely more busy, and the added stress didn't make my stomach settle any easier. There was the fundraising, which, while I tried to maintain a positive attitude that everything would come together [which it did], I was still in panic mode for several months. And the stress of my everyday [read: spastic] life simply left me nothing short of scatter-brained.

So Friday night came around, and I raced over to the convention center to pick up my packet just before the expo shut down. I left with my t-shirt, swag bag full of coupons and... oh wait. Completely forgot my Team In Training jersey. Fail.

Saturday morning, I got up at 5 a.m. I had slept in my shorts, so I was already halfway ready. I threw on my sports bra, last year's TNT jersey, socks and shoes. I mapped my route to the stadium and grabbed some peanut butter toast, a glass of water, my keys, phone and wallet before I walked out the door.

I got to the stadium at 6:45 a.m. and was welcomed by an insanely long line of cars. So, I did what any other Nashville driver would do and I cut someone off and snagged a place in the line. It was at that moment, heart racing- still not sure if it was nerves because of the race or because I just royally pissed off someone in a car that could run over mine and flatten it like a pancake- that I looked down and realized that something was missing, something important... my race bib. Epic fail.

So I pulled another trick out of the Nashville driving handbook and made a U-turn in the middle of the road. I got back to my apartment in record time, grabbed my number, made a quick panic-stricken phone call and raced right back out the door.

Before I got back to stadium I was assured that there was one more shuttle bus still running. AWESOME! But then I got to the stadium only to find out that the bus had broken down. Awesome.

After asking several police officers and a few strangers about the road closures, I quickly found that my efforts were useless. I just wasn't supposed to be in the race this year.

So, as I was wallowing in defeat, I drove over to the finish line to see my mom, who was working to keep traffic out of the way of the runners. She and the other people working with her reassured me that it was ok, there's always next year. And I knew that. But I still felt sad as I cheered on the first person to cross the finish line.

That feeling quickly went away when I saw a gentleman walk by, carrying a Team In Training [TNT] poster. I went up to him, introduced myself and showed off my purple jersey [even though it was so last year]. He told me that his daughter was running the half marathon and had trained with TNT. He went on and on about how great he thought the organization was, and how wonderful the participants were. I told him that I wholeheartedly agreed, and that I had made some great friends in the two years that I've been doing this.

At this point, I was just happy to hear that someone else was having such a positive experience with running and TNT, but I was completely unprepared for what he said next.

He told me how heartwarming it was to see so many purple jerseys on the course, so many people running because they wanted to help find a cure. He told me he has leukemia, and he knows the pain and torture it brings to not only himself, but his family, too. But because the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society found a medication called Gleevec, that man is enjoying a practically full life. He told me that had it not been for that drug, he wouldn't be here today.

I fought back tears as I realized what Saturday was really about for me. It wasn't about running. It wasn't about the months of training [or not-so-much-training]. It wasn't about trying to figure out why God didn't want me out on the course. It was about saving lives.

So, in the end, the marathon was still a success for me, even though I didn't run a single step.

What are YOU doing tonight to help save lives?

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 16:15:00 +0000

Tonight's a special night at Otter's Chicken Tenders in East Nashville. We'll have music from Misha Williams and a silent auction with all proceeds going to The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society! We'll have something for everyone, including:

SmartTalk Bluetooth set from Griffin
A six-piece set of knives from kai/Kershaw Knives
A Team Green membership, t-shirt and water bottle
Coffee Lovers Package- including gift certificates from Bongo Java East
sports gear
and so much more!

I'd love to pack the restaurant with people supporting the fight against blood cancers, so bring your friends and family out tonight.

If you can't make it to the event, but would still like to contribute to the cause, you can go to my fundraising site and make an online donation [tax deductible]. But hurry- tomorrow is the last day for donations!

---
Feel free to send this flyer out to your friends and family!

I'm going to write a book.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 04:09:00 +0000

And if I'm as dedicated to working on that as I am to updating this blog, then you can expect to see it hit the shelves in November of 2056.

In the past few months, through conversations with friends, acquaintances and random people that I may never see again, I have received a lot of encouragement to put my life on paper. Or least make it available for download. So I'm going to write a book.

What will the book be about? Good question. I have no idea. I love David Sedaris- he crosses the line of grossly inappropriate and is hysterical as he describes the dysfunction of his family. Maybe I should write something like that.

Then I think, "But my life is so much more than just my crazy-yet-lovable family." So maybe I'll break it down in to sections of my life- family, work, relationships, religion, pets.

No no no. That's too fragmented. Maybe I should go chronological and just start from the beginning. But no, that's boring and normal. And let's face it- my life is anything but normal.

Then my brain gets exhausted from the sea of possibilities and I go back to constantly refreshing my Twitter feed.

So while this post may seem completely useless to you, just know that (a) I'm looking for support, (b) I'm looking for suggestions and (c) by publishing this, I might just get a bit of motivation to get cracking on it.

Please don't fart while I'm exercising. Thanks.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 03:09:00 +0000

So I'm chugging away on the elliptical trainer at the gym, pouring my heart and soul into getting a good workout [since I can't run on my foot now]. I'm having a great time- watching the TVs, listening to my music and laughing at the poor spin class getting yelled at every five minutes.

About 20 minutes and six buckets of sweat into my workout, a pack of three girls walk in. And by girls, I mean girls. You know, they hairspray their hair before they leave the house. They wear more makeup when they work out than I wear on a nice evening out. And, while I cannot confirm this, I'm pretty sure they iron their outfits.

Well the three homecoming queens decided to stand right in front of my machine and have a ten-minute argument on who's going where. "Well, she likes the one with the gold things." "But I'm going to be on the other side of the room!" "What is that thing anyway?!?"

Meanwhile, I'm still booking it. Wheezing. Sweating. And FUMING.

Not because they were "those" girls. Not because they didn't know what any machine in the gym was. Not because they chose to have a loud conversation during my rather intense workout.

But because one of them farted right in front of me. And when you're gasping for air, the last thing you want to inhale is a fart. Thanks, chicas.

The guy threw up, and then he passed me.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 00:06:00 +0000

I don't know what could possibly be more interesting than that, so, it made title status.

I did the Richland Creek Run this morning, which was a glorious five mile run around the Sylvan Park neighborhood to benefit the Greenways of Nashville. Despite being a bit chilly, this was probably one of my favorite races of all time. The scenery was gorgeous, the crowd wasn't too terribly large and there were hills. Yes, I'm counting hills as a blessing because I don't normally have the opportunity to include them on my runs.

I can proudly say that I ran the entire five miles on sore feet. [For those who haven't read it on my Twitter or Facebook, I have issues with plantar fasciitis.] Even though I haven't run in a week and a half, I was able to not only complete the whole course, but I ran it faster than my normal pace- meaning I went from "too slow to consider it running" to "tortoise pace." I'm so proud.

The only two things that kept me from getting my usual runner's high were: (1) guy playing leap frog, and (2) guy who threw up. Let me explain...

Guy playing leap frog: This guy ran downhill every chance he got, but walked all the uphills and flat stretches. Since I held a fairly steady pace, this was frustrating. As in, I almost tripped him to get him to stop. Why would you pass someone and cut in front of them when you know you're going to stop in two feet? Why?

Guy who threw up: This guy. Wow. He gets kudos. He passed me around the halfway point, but didn't get too far ahead. I lost him for a couple of minutes [he was hard to miss in his fluorescent green jacket], but then I rounded a corner and heard this, "HHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHH." That's right. The sound of a heave, and a hardcore one at that. I passed him and kept hearing that awful noise for way too long. Then, not three minutes later, this guy passed me. HE PASSED ME. Right after leaving all of his internal organs on the side of the course. Talk about a motivation-buster.

Despite those two strange people, I had an amazing run. And the day just got better with a long nap, a trip to the park with camera in hand [click here to see pictures] and dinner at Fido. I think this could qualify as one of the best Saturdays ever.

Cut, I say. CUT!

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 03:01:00 +0000

I feel like this is a scene from a horrible movie, and all I want to do is scream, "CUT!" so it will all be over.

Last night, after reaching that place of letting this completely messed up situation go, I felt good. Confident. Then I got a phone call from my big brother.

"Hey bud, that guy just came by the house."

Now, I'm not sure what I was supposed to say here. My head was buzzing with an array of colorful words. But all I could muster was a quiet, "What?"

"Yeah. He drove up in a red van and wanted to take us for a night out."

"What?"

"Yeah. I told him about the money that went missing, and he wrote us a check."

At this point, the blanket of shock lifted, and I lost it. "ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME?!? I'M GOING TO KILL THIS GUY!" I'm not sure what else I said... yelled after that, but I know it had to have been a lot because my brother simply said, "Um, let me give you over to Wendy."

Apparently this guy is crazy. And he must think we're stupid [naive- yes; stupid- no].

At this point, I have no more words. I'm exhausted by people.

I don't like drama. But it seeks me out. It takes over my being secure and happy. It drains my will to live.

So right now, all I'm feeling is- ugh. I need a hug, some sunshine and a good cup of coffee.

Did someone say, "sandwich?"

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Sat, 14 Mar 2009 04:40:00 +0000

Greatest quote ever, via my brother, Denny Presley: "This is just a shit sandwich, and everyone is taking a bite."

I was in the middle of my rant about how horrible people are- the brazenness, the absurd and the unbelievable. How do they sleep at night- knowing that they've screwed innocent people that are actually in need, that have been faced with a REAL problem?

And then my brother said that. I have never laughed that hard in my entire life. I almost had to pull the car over just so I could catch my breath.

That moment, that sarcastic [but oh-so-true] comment taught me to stop. Breathe. Learn the lesson. And laugh it off.

This is completely out of my hands now. "The asshole" will get his. I just hope I can be there to witness it.

But until then, I urge you to show your support to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society by making a donation here- whether it's just $5 or $50. You'll be saving the lives of those who are really suffering.

People are dying with cancer, and this guy just made $600.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 16:54:00 +0000

Probably not.

Let me preface this [series of] post[s] by reminding you that I'm a Church-of-Christ-girl who appreciates foul language. And I'm pissed. So prepare yourself for le foul language. [And if it bothers you, then you can politely hit the pretty 'X' at the top of your screen. I'm pissed, bitter and cynical right now. I need to cuss.]

So, as many of you already know, I'm training for the Country Music Marathon... er... half marathon now. And like I did last year, I'm gearing up for this with Team In Training. I'm not going to lie, raising $1,800 is tough- especially this year when everyone is mildly [or not-so-mildly] freaking out about the economy. So, my stress level is through the roof.

Well, The Big Bang has been so generous in allowing me to use the bar as a fundraising venue every Thursday night in March. Last night was our second go at what I was hoping would be an awesomely successful night. I was completely unprepared for what was about to happen...

The amazing piano players announced that we're raising money to help in the fight against blood cancers, and that apparently garnered a lot of attention. In fact, this one guy sought me out via the Big Bang staff just to make a special donation.

This guy introduced himself as a new Titans player whose sister is a survivor of Leukemia, and he wanted to donate a thousand dollars. ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS. I stood there, watched him write the check and drop it in the box. I almost cried.

And, had this been legit, I probably would have. That should have been my first red flag- no emotional reaction.

This guy then got up on stage and announced that he was "Robert Bills, the new receiver for the Tennessee Titans." Right. Red flag number two [but I was too elated about the huge donation, so inhibitions were down.]

After coming off the stage, he took me around the entire bar to help get donations from the other patrons. Awesome.

He, my brother and my brother's fiance hit it off and were talking all night. I think there was a point that they were all dancing [Lord help us].

We wrapped up the evening, and I went home the happiest person in the world. I had just raised $1,195 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

FALSE.

I got up this morning, tried to find this "Robert Bills" online. Not on the Titans roster. Not in their list of press releases. Not in the NFL list. [Inhibitions back up and red flags are slapping me in the face.] I whispered a slight, "Oh. Shit." That very moment, Denny called. "Yeah, buddy, we're missing a lot of money from Wen's purse."

Oh. Shit. Indeed.

So I went downstairs [I work in the same building as TNT], broke the news to the coordinators and got plenty of ideas from then on how to handle this.

We called the bank that the check had been drawn on. Account closed. Dammit. I was really hoping this asshole would have been dumb enough to give us a check with his address on it so I could pay him a special visit with five of my strongest friends. [I was imagining a slightly more intense version of this scene from What Happens In Vegas - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2LptzAD5aYo.]

My next step was to call the folks over at The Big Bang to see if they had security cameras in hopes of catching this dumbass in the act. Or at least get a shot of his grubby face. Luckily, they have five security cameras. I'm just waiting on a call from the general manager so I can run over and sift through the footage.

So now you're all caught up in my drama of the week. I'll post updates as they happen [or at least as soon as I find wifi.]

Happy Friday the 13th.

Full speed ahead...

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 00:15:00 +0000

That's right. After talking to several developers for advice on building a website, I'm moving forward. Full. Speed. Ahead. I've had a plan for a long time now, but things just kept getting in the way. Marathons, depression, breakups, job change, moving, settling in, meeting new people, getting a crazy dog adjusted... and that's just the surface of what's been going on.

But now, I'm energetic. I'm excited. I'm ready. Like Barney on How I Met Your Mother suggested, I quit being sad and am being AWESOME instead [or at least trying to be].

So, keeping it short tonight, here are some pictures of what make my life awesome.

It's Twitter-ific!

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 17:53:00 +0000

I know what you're thinking. "Oh Paige, you're so lame. Can't you come up with something a little more creative?"

But no. It's Monday, you sillies.

This is just a quick post to get you all involved in my little Twitter drive. I'm coming up on tweet #1,000, and wanted to do something spectacular [or at least a little special].

So here it is. I want each of my followers to donate just $5 to my Team In Training [TNT] fund. That's right. Five measly buckaroos.

Why?

Because I thought it would be fun to get $1,000 together for my 1,000th tweet. I have almost 200 followers, so just $5 each would add up to a grand ol' grand.

[Sorry I'm so full of cheese today.]

So, if you're not already, follow me on Twitter and help me celebrate my 1,000th tweet!

---
DONATE HERE

I know it.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 19:22:00 +0000

At 24, I hardly claim to know everything. I observe a lot of things and make guesses, but I don't know it all.

One thing I do know, though, is what heaven will be like.

Ok, ok, that's a pretty bold statement. But I can't imagine anything more wonderful than this weekend.

This time of the year is one of my favorites- the Tennessee weather is so unpredictable that you're often surprised with sunny, 60-degree days that are perfect for being completely useless [in a good way]. The trees are still bare so that you can see more of the sky through the empty branches. And there's a breeze strong enough to stir up whirlwinds with the grounded leaves, but soft enough to make you forget about anything else.

Yesterday, I went to my parents' house, pulled out the lawn chairs and laid out in the back yard with a quilt, my iPod [set to Priscilla Ahn's album] and a good book. But I couldn't read a thing because my eyes were fixed on the most beautiful sky I think I've ever seen. The clouds were so beautiful, no camera could have captured what I was seeing.

I think I was out there for several hours, just thinking. Wishing. Dreaming. Wondering.

Like I said, I don't know everything. Least of all, who I am. Being a young professional is like being a teenager. You're too old for some things and too young for others. And the more you try, the harder it is to fit in.

My mind again turned to a solo game of 20 questions about relationships. What do I want? What would the person I want expect of me? Am I good enough? Am I fun enough? Am I serious enough?

Then it occurred to me. It doesn't matter. This confusion never goes away. You will always have questions [at least you should], they just get deeper and deeper as you grow older.

And the point of relationships- romantic or not- is to grow with each other. Learn from each other. Support each other. And to do all of these for the people they are, not just who you want them to be.

So while I'm still figuring out who I am, I'm going to stay confident that I am who I am [much like my life is what it is], and that it's a good... No. It's a great thing.

Ok, ok. Happiness is more than just a warm puppy.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 01:28:00 +0000

Believe me, I know. Maggie has my nerves past the point of being completely shot. But that's another post for another day.

Today, Internet, I am going to reveal something so much deeper and more personal than I have ever shared... with anyone.

Let's start at fall of 2007. I got off to a rough start post-college. I spent a little over five months feverishly searching for my first "real" job, going on plenty of interviews, second interviews and even some third interviews. But the end result was always the same. They wanted someone with more experience. [In my head, I was thinking, "Sure. And thank you for the wonderful waste of my precious time."]

Because I had no job and no income, I had to move back into my parents' house. As you know from this post, this post and this post, you know how frustrating and disheartening it was to have to return to such madness.

Fall of 2007 brought a lot of changes. I began feeling the stress of a long-term relationship being pulled apart, the excitement of starting a new job and the reluctance of wanting to grow up. Not to mention the sensory overload of living at home.

I finally confessed to the guy I was dating at the time that I was unsure about things. A lot of things. Including our relationship.

By early 2008, I realized that the job I took was not right for me... at all.

And of course, my home life was a complete mess.

Apparently those, among many other things, were just too much for me to handle. I wasn't sleeping, and I started to lose my appetite for any and everything that I had once loved.

Sometime during the middle of 2008, I ended a relationship of three and a half years. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. I thought it would help relieve some of the pressure I was feeling, but it did the exact opposite.

Not too long after that, I began to lose it. I literally lost myself. I didn't just crack under the pressure, I collapsed.

I finally talked to my doctor about it, and we came to the conclusion that I had been suffering with depression. A year and a half of my life was spent depressed, and I had no idea.

He gave me some medication- of which I took one. For some reason, the thought of being chemically altered in such a way freaked me out more that the hysterics I was going into on a daily basis. So that night, I swore I'd get through it on my own.

Which brings us to today. Here I am, nearly six months later, and I am happier than I think I have ever been.

The only reason I'm reflecting on this now is because I stumbled upon this post about how you can, in a way, control your own happiness. Looking back, I see that the only thing that was keeping me from being myself, my usual happy self, was me. And it wasn't until I made myself commit to being a stronger person that I felt real happiness.

So on those days when you feel like nothing matters anymore, be strong and remember that you are in control of who you are. Find the little things that make you happy, and do them. Find the people that make you happy, and be with them.

It will make all the difference in the world.

The Battle Between Wants and Needs

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 21:05:00 +0000

I keep telling people that my life is going to slow down in a day or two, but my life has made a liar out of me.

So I'm here now, taking just a few moments to throw a few more thoughts out to you, Internet.

Before I start, just listen to Jake Armerding 's song, "The Fleece," and you'll know where I'm coming from.

I've been very selfish these past few months, choosing things that I want... no... things that I crave, and completely ignoring the things that I need.

When it comes to an apple or a piece of cake, 11 times out of 10 I'll choose the cake. Buy new clothes or put money into savings? How about both? Oops. Nevermind. It's all about the clothes.

Here lately, discussions with friends have [inevitably] led to talks of who our "Mr. Perfect" or "Ms. Perfect" will be.

He'll be funny. He'll know how to dress nice [and appreciate the days of lounging in sweats]. He'll be attractive. He'll at least pretend to like to dance. He'll love music almost as much as I do. He'll understand both my artsy side and my analytical side. He'll be close enough to my level of spirituality, physical activity and mental stability that we'll enjoy being together, but far enough away that we'll be able to challenge each other to grow together.

When I'm considering who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with, it becomes a lot more difficult to distinguish between what I want and what I need. And let's face it, the older I get, the more stubborn I get... and the more stubborn I get, the narrower the pool of what I consider "eligible" bachelors gets.

But then there comes a time when being single becomes really old, and all I want is to have that romantic connection. So I start to think I'd settle for what's less than "Mr. Perfect" or "Ms. Perfect."

I was just about at this point when a new friend of mine, Blake Lindley, suggested I listen to a few of Jake's songs. I instantly fell in love with "The Fleece," and have probably listened to it at least 37 times in the past week.

The chorus just drove the point home. "I never, never need the one I want." "I never, never want the one I need."

So world wide web. Here it is. I'm not settling. Are you?

Welcome to 2009.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 00:07:00 +0000

Sure, we're more than a week into it, but I think it takes about that long to get settled in. We're all recovered from the holidays. We're back into a semi-regular routine at work. We're pumped because the first week of 2009 is significantly better that all 52 weeks of 2008 could have ever hoped.

And then we get sick.

Everyone is sick. Including myself.

So, world wide web, I'm here to tell you that this cold will not bring me down. [And yes, ELO is serenading me with "Don't Bring Me Down" right now.]

Though achy all over, I am still happy. Why?

I ran four miles yesterday [and lived to tell about it]. Maggie and I met some cute new friends at the new place. I've got some exciting new projects to work on. The list goes on...

So even though I may feel like I'm going to die, I am still smiling because life is good.

How has 2009 treated you so far?

A Charlie Brown Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 05:00:00 +0000

As this whimsical day comes to a close, I'm happy to report that it was a better day than I thought it would be.

I started the day with the Charlie Brown attitude. He said that he didn't like Christmas because he always felt let down. While I've always loved this holiday, this has been a roller coaster of a year and, I haven't had much time or mental bandwidth to think about the joy of Christmas.

I'm still recovering from months [...maybe years...] of emotional trauma. I haven't found a solution to my health issues that doesn't result in severe abdominal pain or increased emotional sensitivity. I'm just now feeling settled in my new apartment. I'm still struggling to feel like I'm accomplishing something, or at least making up for wasted time.

But I promised myself yesterday that I would quit reflecting on what I feel like was a crappy year and start thinking about all of my Christmas memories.

For example, I remember when we didn't really need to put a spending limit on gifts. At five years old, I didn't understand that Christmas was more than My Little Pony suitcases, Lite-Brites and plastic kitchen sets. I remember that Christmas morning like it was yesterday. I had apparently been an angel that year because there were SO MANY TOYS under the tree.

Then there was another Christmas when all my brothers wanted was money. I was still all about the toys. So while I was playing with my Barbie dolls, Barbie house and Barbie convertible, my dad sent my brothers on this wild scavenger hunt throughout the house. Each clue led to another twenty dollar bill. It was so fun to watch them play this little game.

I finally came back to my parents' house last night, with my head full of these great memories and hopes that Christmas would be that exciting again. But instead of feeling full of Christmas cheer, I became frustrated. No one planned for Christmas dinner, and all of the grocery stores had already closed. I was pissed off because what was my bedroom three weeks ago is now a dumping ground for stuff that doesn't have a place to go [aka- "cheap crap that should be thrown away"]. And I was already tired. Of everything.

I was the queen of bitter last night. But once everyone went to sleep, I made up my bed on the couch and watched a bit of TV. I had had my fill of It's a Wonderful Life and White Christmas, so I turned on Frasier.

The memories of my childhood Christmases kept coming back to me, so I indulged my nostalgic side and stared into the Christmas tree, eying each and every ornament that we've collected over the years. Then I went looking through some of the little Christmas items that we set out around the tree, and I came upon a book my grandfather had given me. After my most recent breakdown over losing him, I prepped myself for another cryfest and began reading the book.

Christmas Blessings is full of Christmas poems by Helen Steiner Rice. And I cannot tell you how uplifting they were. By the time I got through half the book, I was feeling the Christmas spirit again.

I woke up this morning with an energy that I can't begin to explain. I rummaged through the pantry and fridge and was able to drum up a pretty nice Christmas dinner. I even cleaned the living room and got everything ready for a great afternoon/evening with the family.

When we all sat down together, it was like someone had sprinkled the house with happy dust. THERE WAS NOT ONE ARGUMENT. This right here tells me that hell had to have frozen over for at least three hours.

We ate, watched A Christmas Story and opened our fantastic gifts. In perfect harmony. My mom and I are still talking about how we think this was truly the best Christmas we've ever had. There was nothing special or spectacular about it. But it was wonderful.

And the best part of the day? Maggie didn't eat one Christmas present [...yet].

One great man.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 06:22:00 +0000

After several nights of Christmas and wedding festivities, I came home tonight to catch up on emails, Twitter and Facebook [eight hours away = a minimum of three hours of catching up].

I sifted through all of the retail emails, forwards and SPAM before I took time out to read an email my uncle sent. I was in no way prepared for what was attached.

After wishing all of the family a Merry Christmas, he told us that he had come across some old pictures that he thought we'd want to have copies of. One by one, I opened the attached pictures and tears immediately started rolling down my cheeks. They were pictures of my late grandfather.

I could easily blame this flood of emotions on my state of exhaustion, or on this new medication, or on the amount of stress I'm under right now. But I've always known that losing him was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever go through. And I'm fairly sure I will never be over it.

I realize it's been almost six years since he passed away, but I still miss his daily phone calls, his goofy laugh and his sarcastic wit. More than that, though, I miss his faith.

My parents instilled a love for God in me as a child, but Granddaddy was the perfect example of what that love meant.

Paralyzed from the neck down, he spent most of his days confined to his bed and, many times, was only allowed to get out in his wheelchair once or twice a week. He had a pole next to his bed with remote controls and keyboards strapped to it so that he would have something to keep him occupied.

When I would go to visit, I would spend most of the time with him, more than likely playing chess on his computer. [Have I ever mentioned how cool I was when I was a kid? Seriously. So cool.] Sometimes, he'd play some of his favorite new gospel songs [usually something sung by the Gaithers]. And many times, he would have several beautiful poems written and ready to share [he was so unbelievably talented].

I remember waking up some mornings and hearing the motors in his wheelchair going. I would race down the stairs because that meant he was out of bed for the day, and we would get to go somewhere, usually a toy store and a restaurant. The best part of it was that everywhere we went, people yelled out and ran over to hug him. I used to believe that the entire city of Memphis knew and loved my grandfather.

On the days he couldn't get up and about, he'd order pizza for me, because he knew that pizza was one of the few "meals" that I would actually eat; and wings for the rest of the crew, because if they had to eat pizza one more night in a row, they were going to throw up.

In between visits, he would send the sweetest letters, usually with some more new poems. The greatest thing about his writing was that it was always so positive. He always talked about the ways that God had blessed him, and how wonderful it will be to see Him in heaven.

Yeah. A quadriplegic thanking God for everything in his life. A man who spent the majority of his days in a bed with a faith stronger than any other person I have ever known.

The moment I found out that he had died, I buried my face into my pillow and cried. Not just because I was sad to lose him, but because I knew this world had lost one of the single most wonderful people.

While I'm sitting here now, nearly six years after his passing and practically sobbing, I pray that I'll never forget the things that he taught me about faith and love. I hope that I'll never forget what the truly important things in my life are. And I want to be able to share all of those things with others just the way that he did.

Keeping it simple.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 04:56:00 +0000

Because I'm in marketing/PR, I love to get into the psychology behind the reasons why people react the way they do to various campaigns.

If we change this color to a lighter shade of blue and throw a neutral in there, then it will create a sense of calmness. And if we put these words in this order instead of that one, then there will be a greater call to action. And if we include this link here, they are more likely to click on it than if it's placed there.

I do the same thing in life. I analyze things, often crossing the very thin line of over-analyzing them.

And in doing this, I've forgotten how to stop and look at the most simple things. I've broken everything down into a strategy to yield the results I'm looking for, and I've more than complicated everything.

I didn't think much of it until tonight, when a good friend of mine sent me this e-mail about how a bunch of four to eight-year-olds defined love. I'm not a fan of forwards like this, but it actually made me cry a bit to read how the simple things made such a large impact in their little hearts and minds.

This is what they had to say:

When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.
Rebecca- age 8

When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.
Billy - age 4

Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.
Karl - age 5

Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.
Chrissy - age 6

Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.
Terri - age 4

Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.
Danny - age 7

Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss.
Emily - age 8

Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.
Bobby - age 7

If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.
Nikka - age 6

Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.
Noelle - age 7

Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.
Tommy - age 6

During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.
Cindy - age 8

My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.
Clare - age 6

Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.
Elaine-age 5

Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Brad Pitt.
Chris - age 7

Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.
Mary Ann - age 4

I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.
Lauren - age 4

When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.
Karen - age 7

Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross.
Mark - age 6 [I worry about this one...]

You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.
Jessica - age 8

This one was a four year old child whose neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.

The little boy saw the man crying, went into his yard, climbed onto his lap and just sat there.

When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."

So, my advice is when you get stressed and believe that there's not much time before you head actually explodes, remember the simplicity of life and love. It has a strange way of putting things in perspective.

Seven random, weird and good-to-know facts about me.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 18:07:00 +0000

Special thanks to Margie Newman at FlackRabbit.com for fueling my love for random surveys. Here goes!

1. I love to run in 30 degree weather, even though I have exercise-induced asthma. [For those who don't know, cold weather is quite a trigger for those with asthma.]

2. I don't use my inhaler anymore because it made me nauseous. In fact, I now get nauseous every time I get dressed for a run, even though I don't use the inhaler anymore. Good ol' fashioned conditioning right there.

3. I love storms. Not like, "Oh, I love to hear the rain hit a tin roof." No. I love to stand outside and search for funnel clouds. And when I see one, I get way too excited.

4. I talk to my dog. I also talk for my dog. It's cute, really.

5. When I was a kid, we had a lot of large rocks in our back yard. I used to throw them at the rocks in the ground to break them. Once, I accidentally broke one into the shape of Tennessee. Seriously, I was so cool.

6. I love pickled okra and pickled peppers... probably more than any human being should be allowed.

7. My friends and I used to talk in code. The sad part is that I could pick up one of those old notes today and tell you exactly what it meant.

It's your turn, my friends [wait, do I have seven friends?]:

Ben Morton- Saved by Grace
David Hooper- Bold Thoughts [dot] com
Steve "Cutter" Blades- Cutter's Crossing
Jessica Mosley- espngirl's world
Valerie Schietel- Handmade by Valerie/Zebra Infusion
Julie Cajigas- Inspired Freelancer
Aaron West- http://www.trajiklyhip.com/blog

Here are the rules for my fellow bloggers:

Link your original tagger(s), and list these rules on your blog.
Share seven facts about yourself in the post - some random, some weird.
Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.
Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs and/or Twitter.

The good, the bad, and the customer service.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 23:07:00 +0000

After seeing that a friend of mine had a rough experience with a Lowe's customer service rep, I figured that some of the customer service world must have decided that they would enter the realm of completely USELESS today.

So, Internet, here' s the conversation I had with USPS today. Please read USPS's lines as if this were a 20-year-old guy with no clue on how to talk to other human beings and questionable habits that may have altered his thinking patterns.

Me: "Hi. I was expecting a package and got an e-mail notification that a delivery was attempted, and a notice was left instead. There was no notice on any of our doors, and I was just wondering how I should go about picking up my package."

USPS: "Ok, what did your notice say?"

Me: [internally: "Seriously?!? Did you JUST ask me that?!?"] "Um, I'm saying that I never received an actual notice. Just an e-mail saying that it was undeliverable."

USPS: "Ok. So how do you know it wasn't delivered?"

Me: [internally: "What the hell, dude? Are you even paying attention?"] "I got an e-mail from Amazon saying that a delivery was attempted, but failed. It said to contact my post office for more information... [which has already proven to be a colossal mistake.]"

USPS: "So... how was it shipped?"

Me: [At this point, I'm checking to make sure I called the right number.] "Um. USPS."

USPS: "Ok. Hm. Do you know if it was shipped priority or standard or..."

Me: "I have no idea. All I know is that it was supposed to be here last week, and instead, I got an e-mail telling me to call you."

USPS: "What's your address?"

Me: ["Can't I just give you a tracking number instead?"] I reluctantly gave my address.

USPS, after several agonizing minutes of being on hold: "I don't see anything."

Me: "Hm. Ok. So what should I do? Should I try another post office? Or should I just wait and see if it comes in this week?"

USPS: "Do you have a tracking number?"

Me: ["There we go..."] And I read off the ridiculously long tracking number.

USPS, after several more agonizing minutes of being on hold: "Honey, it says it's still in transit."

Me, wanting to punch him in the face for calling me, "honey," and wondering why his tracking system says something completely different from the tracking system on their website, but too tired to aruge: "Ok. I guess I'll just wait to see if it comes in today. Thanks."

The conversation reads quickly, but I can assure you that it lasted well over 10 minutes.

I just hope the package comes in today. Otherwise, you can look forward to another stellar transcript of my experience with USPS.

FREE Dave Barnes DVD- Just join the Mocha Club.

noreply@blogger.com (Paige) — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 19:04:00 +0000

No, it's not a club of people who sit around, drink coffee and talk about the stress of the corporate world [or the glory of the freelance world].

When you join the Mocha Club, you're committing to just seven dollars a month to help save lives in Africa.

What good does seven dollars do? Here's what:

So join my team and be a lifesaver! Plus, if you join soon, you'll receive a free DVD of Dave Barnes' comedy show [not available anywhere else].