My New Obsession

After traveling to Vegas I decided that I have a new obsession.  The iPad.  Along with everyone else, I laughed about it's ridiculous name and the fact that it should have probably been released before the iPod.  But after packing and traveling across the country I decided I need one immediately, if not sooner. 

I had four flights to plan for with and hour and a half between each flight.  When I was packing I considered that at any point in time I could get bored.   I'm not a good bored person.  So I had to think about when boredom set in what would I need? 

-Reading material: a book (Gods and Generals) and a variety of magazines (People, Scientific American, In Style, and Discover to be exact).
-Writing material: my Moleskine notebook, a few good pens, and my computer (sometimes I like to hand write, sometimes I like to type)
-Viewing material: My Netbook, DVD player, and several DVDs (I never know what I'm in the mood for). 
Listening material:  iPod and noise-canceling headphones.

All of these materials added about 15+ pounds onto my body weight.  The bag took up the majority of my legroom.  And when it came down to it I couldn't find anything in the bag because I had crammed too much into it.  To top it all off, after my first flight, I left Gods and Generals on the plane.  I was a disaster.  When I came home a friend said "do you really need all that stuff?" To which I answered "Ummm yeah of course I do." 

So here's the thing.  If I had an iPad I would have iBook in which several books would be contained.  Magazines I could instantly read online.  If I felt some inspiration I could open up Microsoft Word and type away.  And iTunes would allow me to access to movies and music without having to potentially break a nail thanks to a stupid DVD case. And it weighs next to nothing.

So Santa, if you're listening, I would like the second generation iPad for Xmas.  Oh and that wine key you never gave me.

Thanks,

xoxo

Yaya

When it's Time to Change

I recently reconnected with a very important person from my past and it has got me thinking about how much I have changed in the past 6+ years since I have seen them. While I feel like a completely different person I am often told “same ole Yaya” by people who know me from childhood. Hearing that, makes me instantly cringe and secretly proud.  Cringe because we should change, "grow-up".  Secretly proud because I don’t think I was known as a mean or bad person. And if I was, then my lack of memory has served me well (see ‘Blame it on the Booze’ Aug. 2009). Of course everyone changes due to experiences they have had but I’m not really sure exactly what has changed in me. So times like this make think…hmmm who was the old Yaya and who is the new Yaya?

1) I was a total hormonal freak show. I mean I would cry at the drop of…a fork. “Oh my god my fork fell on the ground! Waaah!” Someone didn’t say exactly what I expected to hear: “Um maybe a different sweater with that?” Waaah. If I didn’t reach my hug quota for the day…Waaaah. Ok maybe I still do this.

2) I was meek and didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted. I would call my technique to get what I wanted “passive aggressive hinting”. For example if we were planning a night out and I wanted to see a movie, instead of saying “I want to see the movie ‘Awesometime’" (why that isn’t a title yet beats me), I would say “Ummm so I’m really craving popcorn.” And then the person would suggest Jiffy Pop and I would cry. “You just don’t get me.”

3) I was convinced that everyone had ESP and when they pretended otherwise I would stomp, pout, slam doors (my fave) and, of course, cry. I’m not proud of this behavior but I was fully convinced that they knew exactly why I was upset and were choosing to withhold what I wanted. Again, if I wanted a hug I would stand there willing a hug upon myself but if I didn't get one I would pout. Why? Because they knew I wanted a hug but chose to walk by me instead. How rude.

4) If I was in a super-sunny-smiley-time mood and the person I was with was in a bad mood it would ruin my day. I would literally morph into whatever doom-and-gloom they were feeling. It sucked. I couldn’t just allow them to own their crankiness and continue on my rainbow-licious day. I would literally turn into Debbie Downer and be mad at them for ruining my day. Not anymore. You can keep your crank to yourself. Unless we’re referring to drugs, then please sir may I have some more? Just kidding mom & dad. Drugs kill.

5) Speaking of morphing I have been: the hippie chick, the preppy chick, the fashionista chick, the ska/reggae-dub chick, the rock n’ roll chick, the extreme athlete (bike, run, & surf or snowboard & snowshoe all-in-one-day) chick, you name it (minus goth) and I was “it” at some point. I was molded by whomever I dated. There was a bit of myself in there but since I’m easily adaptable I changed more colors than a chameleon on a kaleidoscope.  I still love to learn new things but if I’m exhausted from 6 hours of snowboarding, have fun snowshoeing on your own at midnight dude.  I'll be here with a stout in-hand.  Another example is that I would watch Sports Center (or more properly called 'Sports Shouting' by 30 Rock) feigning interest while my ears bled and I was on the verge of a panic attack from all the yelling about stats and who's the best whatever.  I didn't give a shit and now would prefer a monkey throwing its poo at me to listening to Sports Center for one more second of my life.  

6) I’ve become a lot more selfish. Just as I morphed into whatever the other person wanted I would do whatever they wanted. They want BBQ I want Mexican. They win. They want to go boozing while I want to go to the park. They win. They want to go to the strip joint and I want to go to the symphony, they win and I get boobs in my face for their $5. I never put up a fight. Why? This leads to my next one…

7) Little self-confidence and fear of rejection. Everyone has gone through this especially women in their teens/early 20’s. Today I have a love me or leave me attitude. Life is hard enough by yourself never mind a partner that is going to make it harder. I can’t morph into whatever they want without being resentful and bitter. And I can’t expect that my partner is going be exactly what I want either. If I did my partner would be my butler, my housekeeper, my life coach, my chef, my yoga instructor, my laundry-doer, my personal assistant and my piggy bank. Although all of that sounds nice. 

There are the negatives that come along with aging but I’m thankful I’m not the out-of-control hot mess I was in my teens and early 20’s.