I don’t know how you go about celebrating something, but here in the California Stars house, our celebrations include champagne and pizza. We’re classy folks.
What are we celebrating, you ask? Well, for one, we are celebrating J’s new job – excuse me, J’S! NEW! JOB! – which was a long time coming and which we are both thrilled to bits about. Why are we thrilled you ask? Well, frankly because the new job is better. It’s a better position within a better company, with better opportunities, and better compensation. (Do you like how I was all PC there, using “compensation” when really what I meant was MORE MONEY?) and I believe, a better commute (eventually). He will also have the enviable title of Vice President, which I shall henceforth refer to only as Vice President!!! Because when you are a VP of anything, I think, you sort of deserve to have an exclamation point after your name.
(As an aside, I used to believe that Ticketmaster wasn’t a company but just ONE GUY, with the job title of “The Ticketmaster!”, who was in charge of all the tickets in the country, and whom you contacted when you needed to go see Bono at the Staples Center, or two field goal seats to a Patriots home game. I am not even kidding, and am rather embarrassed to admit this. But what a cool job that would be, right?)
I am not sure what is going on in this photo, but I love the faces.
In addition, to J’s new job and my rather awkward confession, we are celebrating my graduation of my Master’s degree. Because I finished my final requirements a couple months ago the ceremony was a bit anticlimactic. While lacking the normal sweet relief of finishing a final exam hours before you hear the band playing “Pomp & Circumstance;” it was nice to don the classic black robe and mortarboard, and my colored “hood.” And as you can see, no one really wanted to take my picture of just me in my get-up, but also with my sweet baby girl as well. She really did steal the show.
As a side note, I was kept very entertained reading the background information on the “official degree hood colors” and I couldn’t help but be amused at “drab.” I have to ask, who came up with this color name & selection? Why drab? Why not call it tan? Is this some insight to the person’s option of accounting, business administration and commerce?
Anyways, so yeah, we are very excited about these latest developments. But now, changing subjects to more important matters, I have discovered a new workout that is kicking my, *ahem* behind every single time. It’s called “The Daily Method,” except I go to a knock-off class that focuses on a bit more on cardio...aptly called “Cardio Barre.” It’s a bit of a cross between ballet and Pilates that harnesses the spirit of Jane Fonda and the 80’s. It’s perfect, because everyone knows that I long to be a ballerina - I just have the grace of an elephant. But, Internet, this workout is the best workout E.V.E.R. The first week I went, my armpits were sore. I mean, I discovered that after I crawled out of bed and popped two Advil because my hamstrings were sore, my abs were sore, my feet were sore. I had muscles sore that I didn’t even know existed. The good kind of sore, the kind of sore you get after a fantastic workout in where you don’t feel guilty for eating that extra slice of pizza because you know you burned a million calories with your crunches, Piles, and triceps’ dips. Although, I have to always warn the person standing next to me because I inevitably kick someone as I am fairly (ah, who are we kidding very) clumsy. And, I am the one who is always a half-step behind, with my Brisé in second position when the rest of the class is in fifth. Although, I have quickly learned to wear leggings, put my hair in a messy ponytail and exude confidence. Then know one will know that I’m the one the instructor is referring to when he barks out that someone is a half-step behind.