I spent the weekend learning about new web development technologies and platforms at a free course that was offered here in Seattle. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. I am sooo far behind on where technology is today. It’s humbling. When I came out of college, I knew everything, and I scoffed at the old-timers at my work who had trouble catching up. Now I’m that old-timer, without even the advantage of having spent the last three years in a job where I developed software. But you know what? I’m loving it. I got addicted to coding because I love the logic puzzle of it all, I love tinkering with code, I love it when it works. I felt somehow more alive after this weekend. Just loved it.

I think I’m going to do more of this. I’ve spent the past year or so trying to figure out what the next step is in my life, and how to work toward it. I still don’t have the first part figured out, but I think it begins here, with getting my hands dirty in the nitty-gritty of what’s going on behind-the-scenes in web dev. With getting back to coding. Because everyone in this city can talk a big game about “Web 2.0″ and “cloud computing” and “social media” and where it’s all headed, but when it comes down to it, the power is with the people who can produce code that does cool, useful shit. I want to be one of those people again.

In business school, I took a Business and Technology course taught by a guy whose name I can’t even remember today, but he changed my life. The course involved very little actual work. It was a 3-hour lecture, twice a week. We just settled into our seats and listened to this man lecture. And he was brilliant. He knew everything that had every happened in the history of technology, and his analysis skills were phenomenal. I loved that class so much. I really learned how to analyze the value of a hi-tech business objectively. That teacher said something that changed the way I approached everything tech. He told the class that hi-tech was probably the worst space ever to start a business. Why? Because all the most brilliant people in the world are starting hi-tech businesses. Because even if you’re brilliant and informed and hard-working, you’re up against the tiny fraction of people in this world who are even more brilliant and informed and hard-working than you are. “Take those qualities elsewhere, to a less visible industry,” he said, “and make a million dollars. Unless you have something really unique to add to this process. Being very, very smart is not enough in this space.”

I have things unique to add to this process. And I’m plenty smart. Now I have to built on that and get the knowledge portion of it. I have to learn these languages inside and outside and figure out what I can do with them that no one else can do with them. So that’s my goal now: Learn, learn and learn some more. Then practice, practice, practice. I used to be a top-notch software developer, and I can be one again. And I’m excited about the possibilities, about the kick-ass websites I can create with what I know now. For the first time in awhile, I’m excited about the directions my career can take. It’s a huge relief after feeling stagnant for several years.

Just for today, I will try to live through this day only,
and not tackle my whole life problem
at once. I can do something for twelve hours
that would appall me if I felt that I had to
keep it up for a lifetime.

Just for today, I will be happy. This assumes to
be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that
“most folks are as happy as they make up
their minds to be.”

ust for today, I will try to strengthen my mind.
I will study. I will learn something useful.
I will not be a mental loafer. I will read
something that requires effort, thought and
concentration.

Just for today, I will adjust myself to what is,
and not try to adjust everything to my own
desires. I will take my “luck” as it comes,
and fit myself to it.

Just for today, I will exercise my soul in three
ways: I will do somebody a good turn, and
not get found out. I will do at least two
things I don’t want to–just for exercise.
I will not show anyone that my feelings are
hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not
show it

Just for today, I will be agreeable. I will look
as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low,
act courteously, criticize not one bit, not
find fault with anything and not try to improve
or regulate anybody except myself.

Just for today, I will save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.

Just for today, I will have a quiet half hour all
by myself, and relax. During this half hour,
sometime, I will try to get a better perspective
of my life.

Just for today, I will be unafraid. Especially I
will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful,
and to believe that as I give to the world, so
the world will give to me.

I love it, especially the part I left in bold. I am going to try to do one kind thing each day, anonymously. I am also going to try to do two things each day that I don’t want to do.

I’m open to suggestions of kind things I can do without getting found out. (Apparently if anyone else knows you did this kind thing, it doesn’t count and you have to do another one.) Any thoughts?

Also, things I don’t want to do: I’m thinking, like, my job doesn’t count here, right? Because I would have to do that. So I’m thinking things like doing a load of laundry, cleaning my car, paying a parking ticket, giving someone a ride, apologizing to someone I’ve hurt, etc. But I could def use suggestions on all of these!

I’m going to try doing this every day for a week and see how it works out. Will keep y’all posted!!

I went to the bank today to deposit another check IN PERSON, and, when I walked out, there was a news camera crew outside. They asked if they could speak to me. They said they were doing a story on Bank of America’s new policy changes regarding overdraft fees, and if I’d like to weigh in on it. I was like “ARE YOU SERIOUS???” Apparently B of A is changing their policy so that they just reject overdrafts rather than allow them to clear along with the $35 charge. I WISH THAT HAD HAPPENED LAST WEEK. But anyway, I got to rant to the local news about all my bank drama, and it felt so wonderful. I’m not sure if I’ll actually end up being on the news, but if I am I definitely hope I can embed the video here. Fair warning: I didn’t look very pretty. I looked like the kind of person who is stressed the fuck out because her bank is evil.

I’m pretty much done with Bank of America, I think. I want to join a credit union — I’ve been told BECU, a local credit union, is very good. But I wanted to first check in here and get opinions from you guys on the advantages and disadvantages of being with a credit union versus a major bank. If you have thoughts or experiences to share, leave ‘em in the comments or email me (spasulka@gmail.com).

… sometimes it helps to take very grumpy photos of yourself and post them on the Internet.

And then sometimes it does not.

So I’m gonna go to the gym and work out until I puke, and then maybe I will feel better. OR MAYBE I WILL COME BACK AND I WILL POST MORE OF THESE PHOTOS!!!

GRUMPY DAY!!! It’s okay, though. This is how I grow.

I remember having a really tough time after a break-up awhile back (no, I’m not going through a break-up right now). The guy I’d broken up with was still tangentially in my life — we ran in the same circle of friends. Here is what would happen: He would tell me he wasn’t going to make a commitment to me, I would be devastated, I would begin to recover, then I would see him when that group of friends got together, then I would fall back in love with him, then I would do everything I could to get back together with him, then he would date me for a week, then he would dump me (in the kindest way possible) and I would be devastated. I was stuck in this cycle for what felt like forever, and it was brutal.

“I just need to stop ever seeing him,” I told a girlfriend. “I need to call him and tell him we need to touch base over text messages before these events to make sure we are not both going. We need to split up the events. Because I can’t recover from this when I have to see him every other week. But I feel like such a loser telling him that, like he controls my life. I can’t get up the courage to do it. But I can’t move on when it’s like this. I’m stuck.”

She smiled. “You’re so worried about yourself,” she said. “I’m not worried about you at all. As soon as you’re in enough pain about it, you’ll do what you need to do to fix it.”

That last sentence kind of changed my life. I realized she was absolutely right. That is how I operate. I maintain the status quo, even if I don’t like it, until I reach a certain pain threshold where I just can’t take it anymore. Then I make a change. That is how basically any and all progress has ever been made in the history of my life. And so sometimes when I feel grumpy — just overwhelming dissatisfaction and psychological stress — I remember that this is nothing more than the universe nudging me along, telling me there’s something that needs to be fixed.

Her words unstuck something for me. I had that conversation with that ex. He was always kind to me, and he was kind about this too. “We can do that,” he said. “I wish it didn’t have to be like that, but I understand. I don’t want to hurt you.” After that, I was able to heal and move forward. I just needed to be in enough pain to start the process.

FAIL.

It worked for awhile and then she found me. I don’t know how. I mean, I can never figure out how. (If you’re reading this, dear, could you please explain in your next vicious diatribe opus exactly how you tracked me down in the first place? I’d like to know, just for future reference.)

But I guess the signs have been there for awhile, and I’ve had enough people email me or post comments like, “Wait, do you a boyfriend?” and so, like, yeah, I have a boyfriend. I was definitely not looking for a boyfriend, and I definitely did not expect it to be him. (I was convinced for awhile that he had absolutely zero romantic interest in me.) But I’m the happiest I’ve been in a really long time. It’s weird — I finally sat down and dealt with a lot of the emotional baggage I carried around from past relationships with men. I had a relationship (one that I didn’t talk about at all on here) end really horribly, and I realized, finally, that I was largely to blame. I didn’t cheat on him or punch him in the nuts or anything, but I’d just really sucked at it. He was great and I totally fucked it up by being an insecure shithead who always finds a way to fuck up relationships because actual healthy romantic commitments terrify me. I lost a lot of sleep over that one, and I decided I was going to do whatever it took to not suck so bad at relationships. I was tired of putting myself through this, and I was tired of putting other people through this.

So I wrote about it and I talked to friends about it and I spent a lot of time looking at my part in why my past relationships had failed so miserably. I stopped blaming everyone else and I looked at what was my fault and I looked for the destructive patterns in my behavior and I made apologies where they were necessary (and I had a delightfully surprising number of men graciously accept — as much as I suck at relationships, I have stumbled across some pretty fantastic and loving men to be in them with me) and I resolved to be very conscious of these patterns and work hard to not repeat them. When I did that, this wonderful man, who had been a valued friend before, suddenly turned into a romantic partner. And I realized that he was kind and honest and loyal and totally capable of being in a healthy adult relationship, and, suddenly, so was I. The universe is a magical teaching tool, and I am grateful to be capable of learning from it. Life is good right now.

I’ve lived in Seattle nearly two years and I’ve never been to the top of the Space Needle, despite living approximately half a mile from its front entrance. This is probably in part due to the fact that no one ever visits the tourist attractions in their own city (with the exception of Pike Place Market, which I love and visit reguarly) and also to the fact that the Space Needle is really high up in the air and I am not a big fan of being high up in the air.

But Will convinced me he needed to take me to dinner there last night. I reluctantly acquiesced. (Kidding! I was psyched.) On the elevator ride up, I was totally prepared to have to hide my head and not look at a single thing lest I cry, but I managed to look out the window for the entire ride. (Luckily, it only takes 41 seconds.)

The restaurant at the top spins slowly so that you can get a 360-degree view of the city during your dinner. The food was really pricey, and we were kind of like, “Ugh, another one of those restaurants that thinks they can charge through the nose for crappy food because they have a great gimmick.” But our meal was quite delicious! We were impressed.

Here’s the problem: By about half an hour in, I was feeling dizzy. Then I had a headache. Then I was nauseous. The constant spinning was making me sick! How does this not happen to EVERYONE who eats there? I was sick for like three hours afterward, but I refused to throw up a dinner we’d paid so damn much for. Ha! It was a nice experience, but I’m not in any big hurry to be in a spinning restaurant any time soon.

One cute thing: People leave little notes on the windowsill, so as you spin around during dinner (ugh) you get to read all these cute little notes:

After the spinning dinner, we went to the observation deck and took a bunch of photos of the city. I am so head-over-heels in love with Seattle. It’s just the most beautiful city in the world to me. Here’s a shot of Lake Union, which is my neighborhood:

And one of downtown:

See? Most beautiful city ever.

This is stolen from Kelly Hays’ blog, which is always jam-packed full of awesome shit. Kelly’s the every-other-weekend writer on Evil Beet, and is one of the most talented and intelligent writers I’ve ever had the privilege to work with. I hired her because I fell in love with her personal blog, but at the time I really had no sense of the enormous literary horsepower behind the girl posting the funny photos. I just thought “This is a girl who gets what is funny.” I just had a hunch. It was right.

And re: this cartoon: SO FUCKING AWESOME.

I turn 28 in a few weeks. Twenty-eight! It’s not that old, I know, but I never really thought I’d be in my late 20s. I remember being terrified of the aging process when I was younger. Turning 22 was very upsetting to me — all of a sudden birthdays weren’t about being allowed to do things, like drive a car or buy cigarettes or drink alcohol. They were just about being closer to death. My 25th birthday was a hard one, too. I’d always seen myself as being married with kids and the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and a prize-winning novelist by 25. And I wasn’t. I was newly single, working a nine-to-five office job I hated, and I didn’t understand how my life had gotten so off-track. I ran to the bathroom to cry in the middle of my birthday dinner, and I was tearful most of the night.

In my early twenties, I was terrified that I would be one of those women who doesn’t age gracefully, who’s 50 years old wearing a midriff-bearing halter top, chain-smoking in a college bar, hitting on 21-year-old men and begging girls like me to do shots with her and be her BFF. Those women were tragic, and I didn’t want to be like them. But I had no idea how to age. I had no idea how to go about existing as someone whose primary social value was not in her sex appeal and her youth. I had no idea how I’d navigate that. I was so terrified I’d fail, that I’d spend the rest of my life trying to be a 21-year-old party girl because I didn’t know what else to do.

I can see now, though, that my story won’t look like that. The older I get, the more I appreciate getting older. I value experience now, and I can see how it helps me today. I can hear my mother’s advice and realize that, perhaps, she actually does know things I don’t. I can see how my experience will continue to benefit me. As society views me less sexually, I find that I am able to more clearly see my other qualities, and I’m more able to value them. I’m more capable of demanding that I be valued for everything else I am, that I be respected and loved for things substantial. It’s beautiful and it’s empowering and I love it.

I’m not going to be the tragic floozy at the college bar. I’ll be a woman who ages with dignity and grace, who is surrounded by wonderful friends and family who love her deeply, for anything and everything she is. I will be one of those old ladies who just radiates grace and love, to whom you’re drawn because you know she is comfortable in her skin and she is full of joy and peace, the kind of woman me and my girlfriends look at now and say, “That’s such a beautiful woman. I want to look like that when I get old.” I will be like that because I will choose that life for myself.

My Olympic day was the best day ever!!!

We got a late start, because I couldn’t fall asleep the night before, which was fine because Trisha’s ultrasound appointment ran late. She was super bummed because they couldn’t tell if the baby was a boy or a girl — I guess its legs were crossed and it was “inconclusive.” Also apparently the ultrasound tech she got that day was a bitch and rushed through the whole thing and barely answered any of her questions, didn’t print out any photos for her, didn’t take the time to explain what was on the ultrasound, and just all-around sucked about it. I was so angry for her. I hate when medical people take a situation that is clearly SO IMPORTANT for you and treat it like part of the hassle of their day-to-day job. I’ve had it happen to me in the past and it was crushing. Like, if it were my job to show people photos of their baby in-utero, I think I’d do my very best every single day to be as excited and involved as possible, because this is like this biggest thing that’s ever happened for Trish, or for anyone experiencing their first pregnancy. Anyway. I was really pissed off about it, but the baby is healthy, and so I did my best to stay positive and upbeat and take her mind off it. By the time we were in Canada, she was laughing again.

When I originally started thinking about going to the Olympics, several months ago, I naturally assumed the border wait times would be hours and hours. When I’ve gone to Canada in the past, I’ve waited over an hour to cross the border, so wouldn’t it be at least double that during the Olympics? I guess not. There was no wait at all.

We met the guy who had our tickets in downtown Vancouver. Just like with the border wait, I had tons of worries about this — Would he actually be there? Would the tickets be real? Would he take my money and run off? But, no, he was super friendly and helpful and had our tickets for us.

We headed over to the parking lot where we were supposed to meet our bus to Cypress Mountain. More worries — would we have to wait for hours to catch the bus? Would we actually be able to find parking? But, again, everything went very smoothly. The Canadians have people wearing light blue jackets, pants and hats stationed practically all over the city to help direct people and answer questions. Trish and I just started referring to them as the “blue people.” It’s like the Canadians perfectly predicted exactly where everyone would need help. Whenever we started to get lost, there was a blue person to motion us in the right direction. We parked with no problem.

Then we realized we only had one bus pass with our tickets. CRISIS. We rushed over to one of the blue people to explain the situation, panicked that we wouldn’t both be able to get on the bus. We told them we had two tickets to the event and we’d paid for two bus tickets, but we’d only gotten one. (This is the truth, although I think it was an accident on the ticket seller’s part and not anything malicious.) The blue people were amazing and helped us get on the bus without buying another bus pass. Oh, and I’d expected to have to wait forever to board a bus, but the wait was only like five minutes. They had everything choreographed like a fine science.

The bus ride was about 40 minutes, and then they dropped us off about a mile from the stadium. There was a giant line of people — basically the entire mile long — waiting to go through security. Again, it moved surprisingly well, and it gave us a bunch of opportunities to take photos in the snow, which is really half the reason of ever being in the snow. We got through security and then they checked our tickets. Again, I was worried — Were our tickets real? Would we get in? Yup! No problem! Both were real!

We found our seats at the ladies’ freestyle skiing event. They were amazing seats — right in front of the skiiers at the very top of the bleachers, so we had a wall to lean against, which was KEY for Trish. When we first sat down, it was so foggy you could barely see the mountain. The ladies were practicing, but you couldn’t see them coming down the mountain because of the fog. Every now and then, out of nowhere, you’d just see a skier shoot up into the sky, flip a bunch of times, and land. It was actually very cool.

It had cleared up a little by the time the actual event started. It was so amazing to be there with people from all different countries cheering. I was on cloud nine. It rained a little bit, so we put up a huge black umbrella we’d brought. When I watched the event broadcast on NBC later, I noticed that every time they panned the crowd you could clearly see our giant black umbrella. We were on TV at the Olympics!!! (At least our umbrella was.) I’ve watched freestyle skiing on television, but it was so much cooler to see it in person. The girls go WAY higher than they seem to on TV, and it’s just surreal to watch them twist and turn and flip and then land from such a height. It’s super-human.

The walk back to the bus after the event was exhausting and RAINY, and we were totally worn out. But there were blue people every 200 feet (meters?) or so to overwhelm us with Olympic spirit, so it kept our mood high. On the bus ride home (again, we barely had to wait at all, once we got on the bus), we sat behind a married couple with their 2-year-old daughter, who was singing the “Wheels on the Bus” song all the way down. It was ADORABLE. It topped off the whole night perfectly. I felt like I was floating, I was so happy.

By the time we drove back to Seattle, it was 1 am. I was exhausted. I am exhausted today still. But it was a purely magical day. I want to move to Vancouver now. The Canadians were so incredibly kind and friendly and helpful. The transit system was well-organized. It went soooo much more smoothly than I predicted, and I credit that to the people of Vancouver and the people on VANOC. Job well done, folks, at least from what I saw.

There’s a billion pics below. Will couldn’t come on the trip, so instead I brought him along in the form of a stuffed bear he got me for Valentine’s Day, during the weekend we went to Poulsbo. I named him Poulsbear because I’m witty like that. Poulsbear went everywhere with us as Will’s proxy, so that’s why there are a million pics of a stuffed bear.

All in all, I have so much gratitude that I got to go on this adventure. I feel incredibly blessed to have been a part of something so spectacular and positive and unifying. I love that everything orchestrated so perfectly for me and Trish to have this opportunity.

LONDON 2012, bitches!!!

I’ve been just DYING to go to the Olympics, since they’re so close to me, but tickets to the events at this point are ridiculously expensive and hard to come by. I’d all but given up my Olympic dream. Months ago, I registered for rentatthegames.com looking for a place to stay up there, but had no luck finding anything affordable that would let you stay just one night. However, by registering, I was on their mailing list. As I was hanging out with my friends in LA yesterday afternoon before my flight, I got an email from them. They suddenly had great tickets available at cost! I guess some guy’s son was supposed to compete in the men’s aerials final, but the athlete got appendicitis at the last minute and had to have surgery. So the guy was selling his tickets at cost for both the men’s and women’s ski aerial finals. Actual SEATS, not just general admission standing. I called IMMEDIATELY, thinking they’d probably already been sold. They called me right back, and I got two tickets for the women’s competition!!! I felt bad for the athlete who had to drop out, but apparently he’s 21 years old, so he’ll have another Olympics, and the spot he gave up went to his best friend, so he was at least pleased about that. And he has made ME very very happy!

Trish and I are driving up tomorrow morning. It’s extra exciting because she has a doctor’s appointment that morning to find out whether her baby is a boy or a girl. (Did I tell you guys Trish is pregnant? SHE IS!!!) We’re going to get either a blue or pink baby Olympics T-shirt depending on what the doctor says. Hooray!!! (Trish thinks it’s a girl, but I kind of think it’s going to be a boy.)

It’s going to be a SUPER long day, because we’ll drive up in the morning, spend the day in Vancouver, and then at 4pm we have to take a special bus up to Cypress Mountain. Then we have to walk like a mile in the snow to the stadium, and the event doesn’t start until 7:30. Then we have to take the bus back down to Vancouver and drive all the way back to Seattle. It’s going to be EXHAUSTING and FREEZING and I CANNOT WAIT!!! I’ve been an Olympics junkie my whole life, and I never in a million years thought I’d actually get to GO and watch an event. I AM LIVING MY OLYMPIC DREAM! Don’t worry, there will be LOTS of pictures!!