No Winter doldrums here

It’s February

It’s Wednesday, the day when I talk about what I’ve got going on. First things first, though, the elephant in the room, what I am not doing: working. Four months, no job, lots of networking, zero results. I know the job market has been competitive, but it’s growing more so—with all the “big name” layoffs happening, it seems like the “ex-brand name” employees have a leg up on off-brand castoffs. As someone who grew up in a working-/middle-class household, I embrace the off brands of life—and as an off brand castoff myself, I could use some embracing. While my worldview is still largely shaped by a perspective best described as “optimistic realism,” I am having some growing skepticism about how the job market responds to a (skilled and experienced) 55-year- old white woman who has so much to give but has zero interest in clawing her way up the corporate ladder.

What I am doing as a result of my circumstances are all those things that I am supposed to do: refining my pitch, editing my resume and cover letter for every job I blindly apply to online, networking with strangers who by and large wish they could help but have nothing/don’t know of anything, and trying to keep a positive outlook. Which means that I am doing a lot lately is job-hunting stuff, trying to keep my hopes up and working hard to fight the inevitable erosion of confidence that comes in conditions and circumstances like these.

And so it goes.

I mention it here because there’s a bit of a domino effect with not doing something…getting (unexpectedly and unceremoniously) laid off has resulted in me doing and thinking about other somethings. There are pros and cons to that.

Because I don’t have the routine and regimen of a 9-5 job, I am being very diligent about staying disciplined to some extent (though I did go to Costco yesterday morning out of sheer boredom, fueled by needing a few things that I could have gotten virtually anywhere else): I go to my home office between 8:30 and 9 every day. I search for jobs. I apply for jobs. I keep my unemployment records up to date. I’ve been writing and reading, a lot. Those things help keep my mind sharp and my thinking focused, which is a big boost. I don’t ever watch TV during “work” hours. Three times a week I break at 11:30 to get ready for the gym and hit a noon class. The other days I’ll go for a walk if the weather allows (and the weather has allowed a lot, lately—take note global warming deniers!) or do some cardio at Planet Fitness. I’m no fitness hardo, but I really do make an effort to stay active—as I get older I need to create as much distance as I can between myself and Father Time in the life race. So that’s the motivation that drives me to the gym, and that’s the “intensity” with which I push myself. And a physical workout inevitably settles things in my headspace.

Speaking of cardio, have you heard the one about the 12-3-30 treadmill workout which apparently is all the rage on TikTok? My 18-year-old niece gave me the 411 on it: 12% incline at 3mph for 30 minutes, and she said it was hard for her.

“I can do that,” I thought. I almost-immediately went to PF (this past Friday) and after a 5-minute warmup I cranked the incline to 12, nudged the MPH to 3, and got after it.

Holy shit.

A 12% incline is pretty steep.

3 MPH is not fast. Until you try to walk 3MPH up a 12% incline and then you start hoping a) that no one’s watching and b) you don’t become one of those “backward-somersault-off-the treadmill” viral videos.

I walk a lot—frequently and often distances of 5-6 miles. But this workout was a grind beyond expectation in way way that almost defies description. I think you have to try it to “get” it. I had stretches where I had to hold the rails, and I panicked every time I reached for my water bottle, fearing that I’d suffer a catastrophic loss of concentration that would result in b) above. According to my Apple watch, my first 12-3-30 looked like this: in 37:30 (5 minute warmup and 2.5 minute cool down) I covered 1.79 miles, burned 223 active calories and 295 total, with an average heart rate of 127. I had trouble figuring out how to compare it to one of my typical outdoor walks; the closest one I could find was 2.12 miles…which took 34:29 minutes, burned 202 active calories and 268 total, with an average heart rate of 106. Throw in the facts that I was quite literally dripping sweat and the treadmill at PF told me I burned 400 calories, and my unscientific conclusion is this: the 12-3-30 treadmill workout (and TikTok???) is legit. I will definitely be throwing this one into the mix when Mother Nature drives me indoors…in fact, I will do it even on fair-weather days because the workout is that good and because I’m still intrigued by it. Yesterday it was equally (more?) grueling—the Apple watch gave me even more calories (262 active, 340 total) and a slightly higher average heart rate (of 132). Though the PF display had me at fewer (334) calories. Also, this time I threw in an Oura ring workout recording which finished with an anemic 114 calorie burn but with a 131 heart rate. I only mention those numbers because, well—data! (If you have the slightest interest in my Oura ring backstory, it’s here.)

But let’s get to the good stuff, shall we? That was way more “fitness” talk than I intended. (I can’t say “planned” because I don’t plan these bits—it’s fun to freestyle. Maybe there’s an inner rapper in me dying to get out.) But anyway, long story long, try the 12-3-30 if you are curious and have access to a treadmill…and lemme know how it goes. (I may rename it the Bucket O’Sweat workout.)

Wait…before I go I have to share a few observations about the “judgement-free zone” that is Planet Fitness. (Observations are not judgements!) (I just re-joined after about 4 years to give myself an option on those bad-weather days—can’t risk being cooped up inside these days.) Anyhow a PF membership proves that there are some other things besides death and taxes that you can count on, like:

1. The parking lot smelling like weed.

2. Some dude rocking the elliptical in jeans. (Or, as was the case yesterday, on the recumbent bike in corduroys, a flannel shirt, and suspenders. Old Timer getting after it!)

3. Another dude carrying a large jug of water almost bigger than he is.

4. Someone (most likely a dude but not always) taking the piece of cardio equipment right next to you despite large stretches of equivalent vacant machines.

5. Someone (yet another dude?) in an oversized pick-up truck parking illegally (despite plenty of open spots), making for one blind turn for every patron entering and exiting.

6. No matter what, someone will be judging the temperature, as evidenced by these signs. Bonus points for using the walls as a suggestion box. Not likely the work of a dude as they graced the entrance to the Women’s Locker Room. (And you know me, I love a good “wayward” set of quotation marks. Or “two”. 🤣🤣🤣)

I’ll do one with quotation marks and one without. Something’s gotta work. 😂

Anyhow…here’s the rundown of what’s up…

What I am eating and drinking

Might as well swing the pendulum hard, from fitness to food. I am missing my Thursday night post-Tai Chi dinners with mom while she snowbirds in FL, but I am still enjoying plenty of time in the kitchen—prepping and cooking a meal is soothing, mindful time for me, though lately I’ve been gravitating to old reliable meals.

We’ve been digging a version of this recipe for Spicy Ground Turkey and Green Beans. We do or don’t cook rice based on what we’re feeling. We skip the pickle. We roast our green beans differently—light olive oil, salt, pepper, red chili pepper flakes. And I always make a little extra sauce. It reheats great too.

Other fave dishes we have been enjoying are this easy instant pot chili, this IP chicken shawarma served with this garlic sauce (not sure we’ll ever get takeout shawarma again—sorry Shawarma & Shakes!), this roasted cod, and then on Saturday thanks to some unseasonably warm weather, we indulged in some filet on the grill. All were (chef’s kiss).

We’re not a big baking household, though I did have, and subsequently addressed, a hankering for this skillet cookie. So. Good.

My sister who doesn’t drink is forever sending me recipes for bourbon cocktails…and most recently she sent me this one which she saw on Twitter prefaced with “Just add bourbon.” I was skeptical on two accounts: 1) homemade hot-cocoa mix seemed a little, er, extra and 2) I couldn’t get my head around bourbon and chocolate. But make no mistake my teetotaling sister knows best. The trip to Shaw’s for the powdered milk was well worth it and I can’t begin to tell you how the nip of bourbon really kicked it up a notch. It’s great both straight up and with a kick. Try it—you won’t regret it!

I also recently went out and had a cranberry old fashioned that’s a winter menu feature at a fave local hang and all I have to say about that is the next time I see cranberries at the store I’ll be brewing up some cranberry simple syrup and trying it at home. (Delicious.)

Speaking of trying it at home, the Nespresso machine with the companion frother (the Aeroccino) that we got for Christmas has created a couple of monsters here. My morning coffee is black. Never a coffee in the afternoon. But since this machine entered the house, well, there’s a “treat” drink a few afternoons a week. And since the Oura ring has not reported any negative restfulness or sleep impacts, away we go. (I linked to the Oura ring backstory earlier but will include another link here out of sheer convenience. For me it’s been a game-changer. Because, data. Here you go.) I guess I *am* a fancy coffee drink person after all—but I was too lazy and frugal to realize it. 🤦🏼‍♀️

What I am reading

I finished both Less by Andrew Sean Greer (loved it and love knowing that the sequel Less is Lost is in my pile) and The Book of Hope by Jane Goodall. The latter was not uplifting in the way I had, well, hoped…and there were times that I found it downright depressing. I felt like I kept reading, effectively, “it’s not too late but the window is closing” over and over and by the time I finished I did have some degree of frantic, panicky optimism—it’s not too late to pry the window open and we’ll have to rely on the next generation to do it. We’ve essentially given their world away, but regardless, we still have to do our part now to ensure the window doesn’t shut and become hermetically sealed in the interim. This aligns with something I’ve probably been feeling innately of late, if this is any indication: over Christmas I made an offhand comment that we use *so many* paper towels. And Kerri must have realized there was some truth to it because since then she purchased and now we’re now trying these reusable paper towels from Marley’s Monsters as a small attempt to reduce-reuse-recycle. So when I got to the part in the book about really needing to do a small part, I felt some glimmer of hope that we are doing something slightly better than nothing anyway. I personally have saved at least one paper towel a day, and I suspect she could say the same. So there’s that.

It’s an attempt to do something. I’ll keep you posted.

One of my big takeaways from Hope is that there’s something to the idea of finding one’s ikigai. So there’s also that. I’m trying to decide what my next “development” book will be. I have a few on influence, so it may be one of those…stay tuned!

Thanks to two reader recommendations I started and finished Carrie Soto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid. Apparently I am *very* (verrrrrrrrrrry) late to the TJR book party, but in the infamous words of Rizzo in Grease, “better late than pregnant.” 🤣🤣🤣 It was a very enjoyable read but the frequent sprinkling of sentences in Spanish really irritated me. For the most part I got the context, but—you know me—I wanted the literal. So I had a lot of Google translate breaks that definitely disrupted my reading flow. The other day my sis mentioned going to Barnes & Noble to pick up a book for her upcoming vacation. Having seen another TJR paperback on a side table at her house, I offered up Carrie Soto. Her eyes bugged. “The hardcover?” she asked, knowing full well it isn’t out in paperback yet. “Yes,” I answered. And then, with raised eyebrows and a sigh, she asked/confirmed, “Thanks…if you’re ok with it coming back to you…less than pristine.” I told my mom the story and my mom said, “you’re bad but you’re not *that* bad.” 🤦‍♀️

I moved on to a book that had been in my “to read” stack for a while, Dirtbag, Massachusetts by Isaac Fitzgerald.

One day I was watching the Today show and some authors were giving some book recommendations and this one guy with a giant personality started pitching his picks…I started looking them up and putting them on my list, several of which I bought. At the end of the segment I learned that the guy with the verve was Isaac Fitzgerald so I felt I owed it to myself to read his book first—so I picked that up too. All this book buying based on his exuberant recommendations. (Yes, personality sells!) Anyhow, I am loving it, so much. Monday night, this passage stopped me in my tracks:

Any time I walk into a bar for the first time when I’m traveling, I can’t stop my mind from wondering, “What if I start a new life here? What would that future look like?” Bars aren’t just p[rotals of escape for me, they are millions of li’l centers of a million li’l universes, and I can image my life in each one. “What if this became my new center? My new universe?”

Just substitute “brewery” for “bar” and you’ve got an almost-exact description of how it is for me. Though unlike Mr. Fitzgerald, none of those spaces have ever become my centers or my universes. And that’s ok. Reading those words, though, gave me that lightning-in-a-bottle feeling of sharing a part of a soul with someone you’ve never even met, an experience I last had (and wrote about) when I read Six Walks by Ben Shattuck over the summer. It’s a really hard feeling to describe, especially when you wouldn’t trade the life you have right now for anything…but if you know you know. One time in Detroit Kerri and I were at The Ghostbar at The Whitney surrounded mostly by med school students from the nearby Wayne State University and I offhandedly asked, “Do you ever wish you lived a totally different life?” Without missing a beat, though looking a bit perplexed, she answered definitively. “No.”

I didn’t bother trying to explain. And she didn’t seem interested in an explanation. Which was perfect. We got back to enjoying our drinks and our conversation.

Again, I wouldn’t trade anything if it meant I wouldn’t end up (on the macro-level) here…but the truth is, if I knew I could do it different and still end up here, I wouldn’t mind taking a few Mulligans. There are certain details of this current existence that I would be ok with being different, and there are certain elements of it that I would fight to the death for. Most of my “regret” is tied to “I wish I had had the confidence to ____________” where the blank could be filled in by any number of things I didn’t do, for whatever reason(s). It’s a weird thing for some people to get their head around, and that’s perfectly ok. But at the same time, it’s a “thing” I carry with me. And in typing the words, I worry that people in my life will read them and think I’m not 100% all in or that I’m somehow disingenuous or inauthentic, which I very much am not. Life can go in innumerable directions—influenced and redirected by chance and choice and coincidence—and I sometimes think about different paths to right now, what they might have looked like…and how that would change certain elements of my right now, like what I might be doing, say, for work. Or whatever. I know Isaac Fitzgerald would get it. I think my friend Tom would too, because he once wrote about regret here, and I felt it viscerally when I read his words.

And then there’s the part of me that asks the simple but petrifying question, “What’s stopping you now?”

But that’s a question for another day. I’m absolutely loving the book, savoring every word, and all the while picturing Isaac pitching titles on the Today show.

The only thing I’m disappointed in about the book so far is that Fitzgerald mentions some formative music for him…so I was totally psyched with the expectation of discovering some new music. And though while The Hold Steady and Lifter Puller are definitive artists for his life’s catalog…they are decidedly not for me. 😔

What I am watching

In general I feel like the number of law firms featured in ambulance chaser ads has really picked up. It used to be just Morgan & Morgan but now there’s a guy named Mike Mahoney and someone else called Jimmy and boy are they are everywhere. I’m wondering if the push to litigate has anything to do with a certain local level of underemployment. 🤷‍♀️

Anyhow, still watching Jeopardy, still ok with Ken as host, and really enjoyed the recent ToC qualifier Troy Meyer. He cracked me up. I also watched the second season of the cheesy and predictable Firefly Lane, but cheesy and predictable never stops me. It’s a problem. But there are worse problems to have.

We’ve started Zach’s season of The Bachelor and it’s the first time Kerri has seen The Introductions. Needless to say the drama (and melodrama) can be awkward and uncomfortable at times, so it looks like this season is shaping up to be as much of a train wreck as the others. And like it is with any train wreck, I can’t look away. Like when Zack publicly thanked Christina for being a good sport meeting his family…only she had neglected to tell the other “girls” that nugget of info…you should have seen the shock and side eye!

I’ve got two movies to report on, the first being Sing Street and the second being Bros. When a friend bullies you into doing something it takes on a little different meaning…I like to call it “bullyvation,” a loving but aggressive bit of motivation. And since Sing Street was only on Netflix through yesterday, the bullyvation I was receiving came in the form of a countdown clock…so I scheduled time on my calendar to watch…which I did. What a great movie…the characters, the music, the story. Sigh. The music is here—keep your eyes open for it on another streaming service and catch it if you can:

Bros was ok. It was great in that representation matters but I could see why it didn’t resonate with a broad audience. (Was I the only one expecting a gay Hangover?) I felt like it was trying hard to be something, but I wasn’t quite sure what. That said, what is not to love about Luke Macfarlane? He is adorable, and especially so if you (like I do) remember him in all his cuteness as Kevin’s boyfriend Scotty back in the day on the fantastic sweeping family drama series, Brothers & Sisters. That said, the fact that the movie showcased one of the all-time greatest songs ever, Love & Affection by Joan Armatrading, made my viewing experience worth it.

When I heard that Cindy Williams died, my mind immediately recalled a certain Laverne & Shirley episode that my older sister and I roared over, one featuring “The Milwaukee Masher.” I was wondering what the episode was about (I only remembered the single character, no plot detail), whether it was in any way/in any context funny, and how it stood up over time. Thanks to the Interwebs I was able to find and watch the episode, Season 1, Episode 11, “Fakeout at the Stakeout.” It aired on April 13, 1976, so right before I turned 9. So anyway here’s an episode summary: Laverne & Shirley’s apartment gets robbed by a cross-dressing purse snatcher who steals women’s clothes as part of his “disguise.” (Notably stolen: Shirley’s gray poodle skirt and Laverne’s lucky sweater.) Laverne agrees to go undercover to catch the thief. Hijinks ensue. I laughed more than I expected. Like when Laverne, about to go on a stakeout, says to Shirley: “If I don’t come back, give my clothes to Louise Lipschitz.” 🤣🤣🤣 I can totally see why my sister and I, at the ages of almost-9 and 10, found it so funny. Here are some stills capturing the caper’s crescendo:

The episode is available here (I found the quality better than what was available on YouTube); enjoy! Hard to believe (and sad) that Lenny (the amazing Michael McKean) is the only cast member still standing.

What I am listening to

In addition to the music from the movies I mentioned earlier, the song that really has my brain tied up by its lyrics and melody is the song Run Away to Mars by TALK. I think there’s a certain escapist notion in the lyrics that hits me different given my aforementioned wonderings different paths that might have led me to today. Who knows?

Anyhow, check it out:

The strings version is pretty cool too:

And one other thing I’ve got going on

After some dodgy activity by Mother Nature and her boyfriend Old Man Winter, the small lake in NH is frozen enough to support an adapted version of the New England Pond Hockey Classic.

Easy access to last year’s two-part series on the event is below, for convenience, if you’re interested. (I know…this post links to a lot of old posts, which is a bit unusual…but since I pick up new subscribers here and there I want to make it easy for them to catch up and get in-the-know should they so desire. Plus I don’t want my writing to be one big location joke, aka you had to be there. Bottom line, I guess everything is connected someway, somehow, in the end.):

Thoughts from under a blanket of white

Pond Hockey Weekend, hold the pond hockey

We were planning on going for a girls’ weekend no matter what, but it’s definitely more fun with the showcase event going off kind of as planned. Fortunately due to parking and logistical complications of the alternative venue (a veritable puddle compared with Lake Winnipesaukee) the games have been scheduled back to back to limit teams’ times in the area—which is a huge bonus given that the straight temperatures for Friday and Saturday are forecast to be highs of 13° and 4° and lows of -15° and -2°, so God-knows-what with the wind chill. Three hours out in those temps might be all I can handle. Needless to say one of my to do items for today is to inventory all my hand/foot/body warmers so I can replenish as needed. Those temps are really f-cking cold! Usually for me, Pond Hockey is like a trip to my dad’s heaven…I hope I can feel him at the new location. Can’t wait to head North tomorrow!

This one ran longer than usual, so kudos to you for muscling through, and sincere thanks for your effort. I really appreciate it and enjoy this time with you—it’s a highlight of most weeks.

Happy February. Love you too.