quinnkdotme

This mental debate has occupied my mind most of the morning.  I planned to get up early, walk the dog and then head back out for a run.  I did actually get up early, and as Verbal and I walked along I considered the weather conditions and whether or not I wanted to come back out and run in this mess.

It’s snowing today, but it’s not the light, lacy flakes that we think of when I say ‘snowing.’  Snowing, in this case, is graupel – my word of the day yesterday – granular snow that pelts your face and seems to be a type of angry snow when the wind picks up, creating a furious furor of flurries.  (I just wanted to enjoy some alliteration, wait there’s more.)   Fluffy flakes that drift from the sky are not only pretty, they don’t feel like the heavens are aiming at you with a BB gun.  Graupel feels like a precursor to hail and while pretty on the ground, it’s not so pretty hitting your face.  My mother describes graupel like Dippety Dots… which it sort of is.  And I’m sure we can all agree, none of us wants to be hit in the face with Dippety Dots.  So back to…run or not run?

My father has a treadmill, so I could run on that.  Of course, it’s not that simple.  The treadmill is old and so you can only run on it for about 20 minutes before it starts to overheat. When it overheats, the machine simply stops without warning.  I spend the 20 minutes visualizing the imminent catastrophe of my flying over the handlebars of the treadmill and being thrown headfirst into the fireplace as a result of the treadmill shutting down due to overheating.  Aside from the evident peril of being flung across the room as a result of braking force, there is the more annoying problem that the belt of the treadmill slips.  Every few minutes or so, the belt slips a little causing you to trip on the treadmill.  You eventually get use to the slip, but it is aggravating – although I don’t know if it is more aggravating than Dippety Dots pelting you in the face.

So I am left with to run or not to run.  As I write this, Murphy’s Law has come into play…”If anything can go wrong, it will.”  The snow and wind have now picked up significantly.  In addition to graupel, it appears that the big, fluffy flakes have joined the party.  Outside the window, the world looks like a heavily shaken snow globe.  I wonder, “Will it get worse?”  or “Do I just go out there and do it?”  I’m leaning toward do it… but it looks unbelievably painful.  To add insult to injury, I just checked the weather in Los Angeles… 66 degrees and sunny.   And visibility is worse outside.  So I guess, I will give another hour and then brave the elements… I think.

As ever,

K. Quinn

It’s currently freezing here… and will be followed by subzero, windchills, and just plain evil cold.  Yes, this is why I moved to California.  And while I agree with my dad that, “If you’re dressed for it, it’s not that bad.”  But that’s just it… you have to spend several minutes bundling up so that you can walk like a Michelin Man to the car, scrape the windshield, wait for the car to warm up, and all the fun that follows when you get to your destination.  I keep chasing gloves around the house, scarves, and hats – they just keep migrating.

And to be honest, the weather is not the reason for my grumbling.  It’s the fact that today I had to let go… the teen group I have worked with for the past six plus years is moving on and had their first meeting of 2012 today, without me.  They also met with three candidates to fill the position of leader of the group.  Whether or not I would have done things differently or similarly, it was hard to be on the receiving end of texts from the teens who are unsure and worried.  And it’s hard because this is my fault – I chose to leave LA and I feel horribly guilty.  I know guilt is a useless emotion, but it’s there in my head, lurking in my stomach, and lingering in my heart.

The best thing that could happen is that a wonderful person is found to lead the group who will take the group to new heights.  Change is difficult, and the last thing I should want is to hinder the potential for growth and new opportunities for those kids.  So I will remain positive, and let them be free.  In return, they will, hopefully, grasp life with both hands and exceed everyone’s expectations.  Except, I will admit, my own because I truly believe these kids can do anything they set their mind to.

And so ends the down in the dumps, yet up with people moment, segment of my broadcast…

Promise to have more fun reported tomorrow… we are off to Philly!

As ever,

K. Quinn

It all started last week when I started looking at jobs on Craigslist to see if there wasn’t some part-time work I could be doing to fill the time while I continue to seek the dream job.  There it was listed under “Entertainment” :  Assisting the Spikes Mascot with off-season community appearances.

I had heard about the Spikes – a minor league baseball team in town – who, according to my parents, are dreadful.  I assumed their mascot would be similar to the Lansing Lugnuts.  With a name like spikes, I’m thinking railroad spikes.

On their website, I was introduced to Ike the Spike, not a railroad spike but a deer !!!??!?!?  The Ike costume is clearly of the same vintage and factory as the Penn State Nittany Lion costume.  It looks like an elementary school arts and crafts project with moth-eaten fur and felt.  If you don’t know what I am talking about, I suggest googling both characters because I don’t think my description could really do it justice, but in a word…. pathetic.

According to my parents, I am committing sacrilege by insulting the lion mascot – to which, my parents would prefer I not let people know where I am.  Fortunately, my car is housed in doors or I could expect egging or some other foul play.

Basically a deer in a baseball jersey, Ike the Spike as described by the team is a 6-foot stag whose hobbies include dancing on the dugout and making fans laugh for a few bucks…ha bloody ha.  Not surprisingly, Ike’s favorite movies are Bambi and Bambi 2.  And he is friends of the Nookie Monster, Diesel Dawg and the aforementioned Nittany Lion.

In my bones, I know that this is a job that I won’t be doing.

And while sinking into the pit of despair by turning down a gig with Ike, I decided to wallow in 80s videos on MTV.  I hadn’t really realized, nor cared, before that to be a bad guy in the 80s all you had to do was wear a bandana and sport a five o’clock shadow.  This is my observation after several good versus evil scenarios in various videos culminating with “Beat it.”  Since I, thankfully, can’t sport a shadow five o’clock or otherwise, I guess that means I can never go back to the 80s and be truly wicked.  Yep, that’s what I am up to in between writing cover letters.

Miss you all!

As ever,
K. Quinn

It’s true… with my workout schedule, New Year’s resolutions, job apps, and grant writing projects what has been foremost in my mind this week is that I promised to treat myself Friday morning to pecan waffles at the Waffle Shop (not to be confused with the Waffle House).  Tomorrow morning after walking the dog, running 4 miles, and picking up the mail and the paper, I will head in my trusty Xterra to the Waffle Shop and bask in fresh coffee and waffles, glorious!

The weather warmed up a whopping 10 degrees –  it’s almost tropical here.  And my parents are out-of-town, so I feel like a teenager playing hookie.

The only depressing thing is that my ability to network completely failed me today.  I called a contact at the behest of a friend and managed to lose all common sense and communication savvy in about 30 seconds.  I sounded like an idiot and rather than try to find common ground or ask questions, I found I just couldn’t wait to get off the phone.  So I got a bunch of advice that I sort of already knew and  the opportunity to write a thank you for your time note after the call.  I guess the only positive thing is that this person suggested I keep checking in from time to time, and if there was a job that I thought he might have some insider connections to contact him.  Not bad… but I don’t think I left a memorable impression.

And speaking of lacking in memorable impressions.  Yesterday while walking Verbal in miserably cold weather, we came upon – or rather she came upon us… a small dachshund mix.   We were walking along the brambles and briars so that Verbal could say hi to the horses (a daily requirement) and out from around the corner pranced this little dog.  Her owner showed up a few seconds behind and explained he had taken her off leash in hopes that she would warm up if she could run ahead.  I refrained from pointing out that a little doggie sweater my do the job a lot better.

We ended up walking along the horse paddock and talked off and on.  I asked about his dog, we talked about dog rescue, he asked about my dog, I explained I was from California… and we continued to walk the outer walk of the park talking back and forth – me headed for home and he headed for the car.  Then, Verbal succumbed to the call of nature, and as I bent to clean up afterward, I noticed that the guy kept walking and pretty much bailed out entirely.  All in about 7 seconds.  Was it something I said?  I wondered if I should have looked in the mirror before I left the house.  I was wearing a goofy winter hat, but so was he.  It wasn’t Kismet, but you’d think he would have said, “Nice talking with you,” or something to that extent.  But instead, poof! – the man vanishes.  I am clearly lacking in memorable impression.

Waffles tomorrow and a winter farmer’s market to look forward to in my future!  Waffle Shop here I come!

As ever,
K. Quinn

Well, I discovered that I fell prey to “stupid girl at the mechanic” while back in LA.  Today, thanks to the lovely team at Valvoline, I learned that when my car was checked out and oil changed at Firestone in LA… they forgot to put back in the air filter.  Which means I drove 3700 miles across the country without an air filter.  And that, according to my mechanic friends, is not so good.  Fortunately, the guys today have written a nasty note for me to share with Firestone – and hopefully I can get Firestone to pay for the fabulous flushing of the engine or whatever it was that was done… again very girlie of me to not remember what exactly was done.  (It’s on a receipt upstairs.)

After solving my car problems, I was off and running errands in 20 degree weather.  Up until yesterday, I thought I was handling the weather rather well.  And then yesterday the windchill was around 10, and I discovered that I had not, in fact, acclimated.  Errands were painful, and walking the dog this afternoon was supreme torture.

On the positive front, I came across another amazing job opportunity in …. wait for it… Budapest!  I am intrigued.  And I have to write a 2 page article on the importance of media for impacting healthcare.  Something I actually know.  And they want someone who has knowledge of healthcare in East Africa – something I also know a little about.  So I am working on my article and refining the resume for another potential adventure.  That would be fun!  Although there was a slightly concerning and I am hoping typo fact about the job: willingness to travel often/10x per month.  That’s like 2x/week.  Is it travel all the time?  I guess it would be some great frequent flier mileage.

Tonight, I am about to risk a new occurrence – Verbal, my dog, had what we are calling fleece rage last weekend.  I was worried that he was getting too cold and so I put his fleece on him.  During the 24 hours of fleece wearing, Verbal chose to ignore me, turn his back on me, pick at his food, spit out treats, and sleep in the middle of my bed kicking his legs into back.  It took another 8-12 hours for a cheerful Verbal personality to reinstate itself.  So the dilemma has been do I let him freeze or do I insist that the fleece is what is best and risk more canine snubbing?

Just a tad bit chilly here in State College,

As ever,

K.  Quinn

It’s strange having the opportunity to contemplate working anywhere in the world.  As if someone has handed me the moon, and I just need to figure out how to shine it right for me.  And it is even stranger when contemplating which road to take, which adventure to explore, that the petty idiosyncracies pop up to deter or encourage decisions.

For example, while applying for a position in rural Kentucky, I had to research the cost of living.  Thanks to the internet, I have the world at my fingertips.  And what to my wondering eyes should appear but a series of horrifying articles on infestations of brown recluse spiders.  Now, instead of picturing myself working happily for a nonprofit supporting sustainable economic development and the possibility of a farmette where I can garden to my heart’s content and explore concepts like goats and cheese making, I have the not so rosy image of nasty brown spiders with spindly legs hiding in my clothing, my bed and throughout my house waiting to sick their poisonous teeth into me.  Maybe not for me.

Or looking at a public relations position in LA with a wonderful organization advocating for children.  I am struck by the Hollywood presence on the board, and I wonder, ” Do I really want to deal with that?”  Being several thousand miles removed, it’s easy to see that job through limited vision glasses.

And just when I think to myself that I am better than this and deserve something wonderful, the power of the internet unleashes the curse of junk mail:  an advertisement to Get Away for MLK at a Days Inn.  Really?  Aside from the abysmal rhyme of ‘away’ and ‘MLK,’ I somehow don’t think I will find myself or romance at a Days Inn over Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend.  I certainly don’t think it should be attempted.

So I send out my missives of hope in the form of cover letters and resumes, and I retreat to the kitchen where I can serve up homemade shepherd’s pie to appreciative parents.  And I think, there is probably a lot here to be grateful for.

As ever,

K. Quinn

And contemplating the tedium that is soon to become my life now that the holidays are over.  No, you don’t hear pity… it’s just strange that I don’t go back to work tomorrow, per say.  I will be checking out the job listings, following up with contacts and performing various and sundry assignments that I have picked up with my volunteering to help friends.    However, once those items are ticked off, I will be pondering the happenings or lack thereof in State College.

I am wondering how to reach my former neighbors and soon to be former renters in France to remind them to turn off the water in the house prior to moving out.  They just disconnected their internet… so hoping they are still answering their phone.  They leave for Cambodia at the end of the week.

I am wondering… maybe I should buy a lottery ticket because I might win and then I could just go to France and turn the water off myself.  I could then head off to Cambodia to visit my friends in their new house.  Go south to New Zealand to visit my OT friend.   And then swing by Beirut to visit a friend who has promised me a glass of wine on her balcony.  Then, maybe head back to France to visit my friends there and winter part of the season drinking wine and reading in front of the fireplace.  Guaranteed no blogging then…. And then perhaps, head to London to catch some plays and pursue my stalker plans of tracking down a certain actor… who in this blog shall remain nameless… but you know who you are.  Of course he will turn out to be single, straight and fall madly head over heels in love with me.  And that will be great for a while, and then I will get the yen for travel and bail out and head to Cali to visit my friends there.  Yes, a lottery ticket is sounding very good.

But for now, I think I just need to plan to call France in the morning.

Missing you all and missing the sunny weather of So. Cal.

As ever,

K. Quinn

Well, I have just completed my last run prior to my 5k tomorrow.  Not that a 5k is much to crow about, but when you are fearful of 20 degrees and snow – it’s slightly daunting.  Fortunately, this morning was a balmy 30, so I am in good shape.

Just perused the local paper.  And by local, I truly mean it.  There is such a small smattering of national and international news that I wonder if the editors know that there is a world outside Happy Valley.  So until I pick up another more worldly paper, I have absolutely no clue what is going on outside of State College.  I guess I could pop onto MSN.com to find out the latest on the Kardashians, but not much else.

I have, however, sorted out my social calendar in PA thanks to the “Weekender.”  I am headed to Bellefonte for the Fiber Art exhibit, no really I am.  And then also in Bellefonte is an exhibit on Victorian dresses.   Next week is an exhibit on Penn State during the Civil War.  And a used book sale at the end of the month.  AND…. wait for it… if I am still here on Jan. 31, I can see Chucho Valdes play at Eisenhower Auditorium.  That will be awesome!!! And somehow hopefully make up for the fact that I will be freezing my ass off in State College, PA.  Lest I forget, I also have Jan. 19 scheduled to see the Fighting Illini take on the Nittany Lions – basketball – with my dad.

And for the really rocking New Year’s Eve…. my Resolution Run and then we are going to hear a jazz band in the basement of the Presbyterian church as part of State College’s First Night activities, partly because I enjoy live jazz and I confess partly because the band leader is kind of a hottie.  Although, I really don’t expect any romantic potential because, and this is not in order of priority: I will be sweaty and disheveled from running 3.2 miles; I will be hanging with my parents; and probably most importantly because he is likely married – as the photo on the band website is him with a toddler.  Observation: any of the semi-eligible appearing guys also appear to be married which makes them entirely in-eligible.  It’s feeling like a Michigan phenomena… everyone gets married in their 20s and the single scene is abysmal once you are over 35.

And why the worry anyway?  This is supposed to be a temporary landing.  I will be off and running somewhere else in the foreseeable future.  Right?

Back to New Year’s Eve… after the jazz, we head back home for late night dinner – meal is TBD  -and champagne.  Hopefully, we will make it til midnight and will watch the ball drop – while all my friends in LA will just be getting started on celebrating.

Wishing you all a safe, happy and fun-filled New Year’s extravaganza!

As ever,

K. Quinn

Sorry friends for the temporary break from blogging.  With my family in town for the holidays, it was a little difficult.

Now in recovery mode, dozens and dozens of cookies later… I am getting organized and somewhat whimsical.

I have committed to running a 5k on New Year’s Eve – the Resolution Run… doesn’t that sound optimistic?  And if I am still here in February, I am mulling some workshops at the local Quaker meeting house:  Knitting Scarves and Mittens from old wool sweaters; making winter soups and stews; and making yogurt and granola.  I have also discovered a whole host of sustainable driven organizations… so I might be working at a goat farm shortly.  All of which sounds great, but I still need to find a way of paying for my life.

So I am hitting the job search and trying to be on top of things by the time next week rolls around and everyone is back from the holidays.  I can’t believe it’s already the 29th of December.  How did that happen?

And I can’t believe I have decided to run a 5k in 20 degree weather.  What on earth was I thinking?  It’s really cold.  Yesterday, I was running in the park by my parents’ house and when the winds blew I could feel it through my running shoes.  That can’t be a good sign.

Off to run before the winds pick up today!

Miss you all!

As ever,

K. Quinn

Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and I have achieved maximum capacity on cookie baking… However, I have also been handed/assumed control over the menu and will be cooking meals and several cakes including the postponed til Christmas Day… Buche de Noel.

My brother and his dog arrived last night…. Alluitious (sp?) Juniper a.k.a Ajax is a lovely staffie/pit mix that looks like the dog from the Little Rascals, spot over the eye and all.  He was a stray and is staying with my brother and girlfriend on probation; and I think my brother and his girlfriend are hoping that the post holiday neutering will solve some of his hijinks.  I haven’t the heart to tell them that it’s unlikely to calm him that much.

Ajax will spend most of the holiday on leash because we are trying to protect: the tree, the furniture, the food, and my parents’ antiques.  So far he has managed not to wipe anything out.  Whereas my calm, mellow, senior dog Verbal has managed to “do the bunny” (when he runs around like he is possessed and begins furiously digging to China on one of the rugs).  This morning Verbal did the bunny and went running around the living room and jumped on to the chair to bounce off it, but my father was sitting there.  So Verbal jumped onto my father, with morning paper, and proceeded to spring off my father onto the couch and then tear around the tree.  Fortunately the tree stayed up, a lamp was not quite so fortunate.

Took Ajax running this afternoon in an attempt to help take the edge off him.  He is now sleeping with my brother who is sort of watching football and sort of sleeping.  I’m sure Ajax is recharging just in time for dinner.

Dinner tonight is a total poseur affair… thanks in large part to me.  My menu includes appetizers and drinks, dinner and wine and then lots and lots of cookies.  There are only four of us here tonight, not including the dogs.  But I figured, it’s Christmas Eve – might as well get it right.

So I am off to make a fabulous smoked salmon creation (before my sister arrives in town and tells me how overfished they are… and let me just say, in my defense – I don’t eat salmon, smoked or otherwise, more than once or twice a year.  So I am hoping that my responsible limiting of salmon – is a legitimate defense… she’ll only find out about it when she reads this blog.  Sorry, Bree!)

Wishing my friends and family far and near a very merry Christmas!!!! Missing you all, and wishing you were here to eat contraband salmon and share in the festivities.

As ever,

K. Quinn