When the cat’s away, the mice will play. And when someone on my team goes on vacation, they get pranked.

It’s become sort of a tradition to have some sort of shenanigans awaiting anyone who is returning from vacation. I’ve had rice in my drawer and Saran wrap around every item in my cubicle, and last week, we filled a coworker’s cubicle up with balloons.

Next week, my coworker Ryen will be going to Hawaii. I had what I thought was a genius idea: turn his cubicle into island paradise (complete with beach sand) so that when he returned to work he could pretend he was still on Maui. On lunch, Bob and I visited a local party supply store to see what we could get to put the prank in motion. We found limitless island-esque items that would be perfect for a luau, but the decorations proved to be expensive.

After looking around awhile, we decided that this was NOT going to be a worthwhile prank due to cost (breathe your sigh of relief, Ryen). We wandered around the store for awhile, trying to come up with an idea that wouldn’t be so financially tasking, but didn’t really come up with much.

And that’s when I saw them.

Tucked in a corner of the store were all these display setups. It looked like photography sets in a studio. We guessed that the equipment must be for rent to use as props at dances and weddings and such. For some reason, I was struck with a sudden desire to pose in the different displays. It felt like cheating, like using a backdrop meant for paying customers and getting myself photographed for free, but I did it anyway. Handing over my iPhone, I posed next to the sets while Bob snapped pictures of me.

This one made me think of a school dance:

This one was more wedding-y:

We left the store empty-handed, but I had my fantastic photos safely stored on my phone.

I don’t know if we’ll actually pull a prank on Ryen or not. The whole thing seems to have lost its appeal to me. The hijinks are expected now. Maybe it’s time to throw in the towel and give up pranking for good.

You know, unless I get a really great idea before he comes back to work.

I get up and get ready for work, happy because it’s not only Friday, but it’s payday Friday. AND it’s my last day of having to get up and go to the office, since after all, by this time tomorrow I’ll be the world’s newest half-billionaire.

Right??

That’s right, the Mega Millions jackpot is at a record-high $540 million and lotto fever has hit. Despite the fact that you’re about fifty times more likely to be struck by lightning than to win the prize, people are lining up to buy tickets to try to get those lucky numbers.

After tax, you’re looking at a take-home of about $253 million, lump sum. That’s 28 million Twinkies’ worth of money!! (No, I am not going to buy Twinkies. Just sayin’, you could buy a lot of Twinkies.) But since the odds are definitely NOT in our favor, why do so many people play?

We were talking about the Mega Millions at work the other day. Everyone pretty much had the same dream: to  have financial security for ourselves and our families, to secure nice homes and devote our time to charity work and good deeds. No one really wanted a flying car, or a mansion, just peace of mind.

I think that’s the thing that most people are really out to find when they play the lotto: peace of mind. It’s not that I want to sit around in my ‘Cribs’-esque mansion and not do anything all day. There’s a lot I want to do, if only I had the time: finish school in a subject that interests me, volunteer, travel. I want to make sure that my family and I are secure financially so that none of us ever have to worry. And yes, I do want to have adventures and travel.

I imagine having a nice house (not a gigantic mansion) that Paul and I design. I want nice, reliable cars to drive, and I don’t think I’d give up my current car for quite awhile since it’s brand new. And I want to know at the end of each day that the roof over my head is paid for and I don’t have to worry about what’s going to happen in my life that might jeopardize my ability to pay my bills. I want to feel secure and safe, with no worries about basic survival. I never want to be faced with worrying about where I’m working, how much money I’m making, and if it’ll all still be there tomorrow.

Of course, I also want the luxuries that a fortune would provide, especially the luxury of deciding for myself how I want to spend my time. Used to be, people could plan and save for retirement and know that their days of going off to the office every day were limited, that when they were older they could relax and enjoy the fruits of their labors. When I started working for Verizon eight and a half years ago, I figured that would be me. I could put in my thirty years and retire. Now, in the current climate and economy, I have no idea if that dream is realistic anymore. I don’t feel that retirement is guaranteed for me, and I definitely don’t feel that I can attain it in the originally-planned thirty years. All my forethought and planning will more than likely NOT secure me the goal I’d made for myself, not through fault of my own, but just because the world’s a different place now.

So I have my ticket and I’m waiting for the magic moment tonight when all my dreams will become a reality and I will be financially secure for the rest of my days. After all, if someone’s going to win this, it might as well be me!

Over the last year, I’ve been trying to get out of my comfort zone and try new things. This wasn’t easy for me, since I’m a creature of habit and love routine. And, change terrifies me, I confess. But I got tired of being afraid of doing something different, because I want to be the sort of person who is open to anything, ready for adventure.

I’ve done some pretty awesome things since deciding not to let fear hold me back…trying (and loving!) Zumba, jumping out of an airplane….and last Saturday, I ran my first 5k. I’d always looked at people who ran races sort of longingly, thinking how cool it would be to be able to do that. But I wasn’t a runner. In high school gym, I couldn’t even run the mile every Wednesday. I’d start out with the best of intentions, trotting my way around the track for the first lap before walking the rest, but it never even occurred to me that I might be able to run the whole thing. So I never even tried.

So in February, when my friend Kristy said to me, “Let’s run the St. Patrick’s Day Dash!” I agreed despite my worry that I’d make an ass out of myself because I can’t run. Instead of focusing on past failures, I calculated the amount of time before the race and made a plan to prepare for it. The first night I tried running, I decided that I was going to run the full distance, a full 3.1 miles. I was going to prove to myself that it was possible. And I was slow, I was tired, but I did it.

Running got easier with each week that I did it, and before long I was breezing through two miles.

The race was last weekend, which turned out to be a cold and rainy morning. The St. Patrick’s Day Dash is an annual event in Seattle, and it’s packed. At the beginning of the race, I couldn’t really run, just kind of bobbed up and down as I moved slowly forward through a huge crowd of people. Once the crowd thinned, we were able to really run.

Kristy and I finished in 44 minutes 34 seconds…pretty good in my opinion, especially since the actual distance we ran was more like 3.8 miles, so over a 5k. Not only am I really proud of myself for being able to complete it, I’m looking forward to finding another 5k to run soon.

I started off training for this race hating running, but being pushed forward by my goal of completing the race. Now I see running more as both a challenge and an accomplishment, something I can do and feel good about myself for doing.

Post-race, my friends and I celebrated and toasted each other with a beer at the Irishmen…at about 11am! Hey, it was St. Patrick’s Day after all!

This weekend has been all about cleanliness and orginization. Yesterday, I cleaned the house from top to bottom while Paul worked in the garage, ripping down the flimsy old shelving on the walls and replacing it with much better shelves he built. I finally have hope that someday my car can live in the garage.

So this morning I finally decided I couldn’t stand the chaos anymore and cleaned out my purse. Although I knew it was going to be a mess, I had no idea just how much stuff I’d managed to stash in a medium-sized Coach bag.

I found:

My wallet
My sunglasses
My work badge
Two checkbooks for two different bank accounts
A planner from 2011
A notepad
Two Macy’s gift cards
A TJ Maxx gift card
A Barnes N Noble Gift Card
Appointment reminder cards for my next hair and dentist appointments
One mitten
A CWA pin
A Frontier pin
A little travel size box of floss
Ear drops
Xanax
Ibuprofen
Two lipsticks
Nail clippers
Three tubes of lip gloss
A hairbush
My iPod
Two packs of gum
Five pens
A towlette from Famous Dave’s
A compact
My camera
Green body glitter
Seven bracelets
Two necklaces
Two hair clips
My car keys
Six pairs of earrings
Three earrings with no mates
Ear drops
$2.03 in change
Two pieces of two different pairs of sunglasses that have broken
Nine mints/hard candies
A small plunger for administering medicine to cats
An empty container for Qtips
A small tube of lotion
A chip clip
Some gum wrappers and misc. trash
A refund check from overpayment on our old landline phone that I haven’t cashed yet
A coupon for free oatmeal at Starbucks

I cleaned everything out and put a  lot of stuff away. I’m thinking a good reward for my hard work should be a new purse as incentive to keep things tidy.

Anyone want to gift a new Coach purse? Anyone?

I’ll never forget the Valentine’s Day when I was fourteen. My family had just moved back to the High Desert after a couple years away, and I’d only been at my new high school for about six weeks. Although I’d grown up in the same town, I’d quickly discovered that people change a lot from age twelve to age fourteen and I wasn’t reconnecting with my middle school friends as well as I’d expected. Anyway, I didn’t have many classes with kids I knew.

We begin tonight’s story at the local Winco.

Normally, Paul and I do our grocery shopping first thing Sunday morning, when it’s safe. At that time, people are typically asleep or in church, which lets us freely navigate the aisles for our groceries without incident. However, Paul has taken advantage of the aftermath of Snowmaggedon 2012 by volunteering for extra hours at work the last two Sundays. That meant we had to do our shopping after he gets off work.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Winco, but the cheaply priced produce is very attractive to us right now, as we are on a budget and our grocery shoppings typically consist primarily of produce. Tonight when we arrived, we found that practically everyone in Marysville was also packed into the store, and socializing seemed to be taking a larger importance than shopping because it seemed like on every aisle were people standing idly, talking.

The experience wasn’t what I would describe as fun, but it wasn’t horrific or noteworthy either…until we reached the checkout. At Winco, you bag your own groceries instead of having the clerk do it for you. Each checkstand is equipped with two different conveyor belts, one on each side, to ensure that nobody’s stuff gets stacked up or confused. We picked a lane and started unloading our cart. I half-noticed that there was another shopping cart ahead of us with nothing but a case of water. No one was around but I wasn’t watching carefully and just assumed that the owner of the cart was over bagging up his or her stuff.

I finished unloading groceries onto the belt and was taking a sip of my coffee when I was shoved out of the way by a short, dark-haired woman wearing the most horrendous shade of fuchsia lipstick ever to come into existance. “Sorry,” she said as she placed a tub of peanut butter among my purchases.

I really must try this strategy. Next time I’m buying just one item, I’m going to add it to another shopper’s stuff and see if I can trick someone else into paying for my new socks or my mascara. Awesome idea, short chick. Not working with me, though. I am an observant shopper, and I know I didn’t order any ugly-lipstick-clad woman’s condiments.

I raised an eyebrow. “Uh, that isn’t yours,” I blurted before I could stop myself. She looked confused, so I picked up her peanut butter and was about to place it behind my stuff when it dawned on me that she was the person whose shopping cart was sitting in the middle of our lane. I handed the peanut butter to the cashier.

Ms. Ugly Lipstick’s groceries were piled up and she took forever to pay. Then once she did pay, she plunked her purse down on the empty side of the conveyor belt that should have been for OUR groceries while she fished around in her wallet and put her things away. I fantasized momentarily about kicking her. Ohhhh, how fun it would be to kick her. There would be the moment when my foot connected, then the look of surprise when she realized what had happened. She might ask why I did it, to which I could respond that I like to kick stupid people who double my time at the checkout.

Yes, kicking her would have been a solid Win for me. However, I resisted, and she finally managed to get her crap organized and off our side of the conveyor belt so the cashier could ring up our groceries.

As I finished bagging up our stuff, Ms. Ugly Lipstick was still on the other side, slowly placing her items in bags. The cashier had to double up and put the next person in line’s stuff on our side, even though the whole point of the layout is to alternate sides so that no one has to wait.

And here I thought Winco was fairly idiot-friendly.

“I want to do that sometime,” Paul told me as we walked to the parking lot. “I’ll walk up with one item and say ‘I want to buy this’ and then go back for something else, and then something else, do my entire shopping one thing at a time. Then I’ll see how long it takes the cashier to get rude.”

I snickered.

“And you pay fifteen bucks a month for HBO,” he scoffed. “You can get all your entertainment here for free!”

True that.

It’s been an odd week, mostly due to what is being affectionately referred to as Seattle’s Snowmageddon 2012. It started snowing lightly on Tuesday night, and then by Wednesday the Pugent Sound was getting several inches of the white fluffy stuff.

The snow continued into Thursday, as temperatures dropped to the mid-twenties. This created a huge amount of ice and slippery conditions. Then today, the weather warmed up to the thirties, and rain began to fall heavily. All the nice pretty snow is turning rapidly into slush and excess water, making a huge mess.

Earlier in the week, two of my coworkers constructed a delightful snowman on our fifth-floor balcony. Snowy had coffee pod eyes, a mouth fashioned with red hots, and a little Rango-esque cowboy hat for his head. As the week progressed, Snowy began to lean to the side a bit and his red-hot mouth started to melt, making him look rather as if he’d just lost a boxing match. It’ll be interesting to see if there’s anything left of poor Snowy come Monday.

I learned that Elantras get great gas mileage and have awesome luxury features. Elantras do not like snow. My little car got stuck in the driveway on Wednesday morning, and it took both Paul and I to extricate it. Once in the road, I took it slow, inching my way along the ice-covered roads on my way to work. By this morning I was a little tired of my extended commute and was looking forward to the impending thaw. I got up extra early so I could hit a Starbucks on my way to the office, but when I drove into the parking lot, the lights were dim and there were no other cars. Starbucks’ hours had been reduced due to the weather.

Bah.

Paul filled the cats’ water dish with snow, which seemed to concern Angel greatly. She’d run to me, meowing loudly, and then dash back to the water bowl, as if trying to alert me that there was something unusual going on.

I let Oliver outside so he could check out the snow. He refused to stick his paws in the snow at first, but then eventually grew comfortable enough to plant his front legs in it. Next I let Saturday out. I had to grab him quickly though because the snow didn’t faze him one bit and he wanted to prance right out into the snowdrifts. Friday wasn’t quite that bold, but she was unafraid and curious.

I didn’t give Angel or Darwin a trip outside. Darwin’s skittish and Angel is super curious, so I didn’t trust either one outside.

By Thursday night I was feeling a little stir-crazy. I was going straight from home to work and then back home again at night, with no stops in between. I was a little concerned that I’d get my car stuck in a parking lot if I tried to go anywhere so I just avoided it altogether. But Thursday, Paul took me out to dinner at Red Robin. It felt great to get out of the house and have a date night.

To make my mornings easier, Paul bought a snow shovel and shoveled the driveway so my car wouldn’t get stuck. I’m sure it was a lot of work and I really appreciate him doing that for me. He’s the best.

I finally got my much-coveted latte from Starbucks this afternoon when I braved Fred Meyer to get lunches for next week. The parking lot was a mix of snow, ice, and slush, but it wasn’t so terribly bad and I was able to get in and out without getting too wet. I also got a cute pair of gray fuzzy boots for fifty percent off, which made the whole trip incredibly worth it.

So we survived Snowmageddon 2012, and by tomorrow Meltdown 2012 should be in full swing. It’ll be nice to be able to get to work in less than an hour, to go where I like without having to worry about whether the parking lot will be plowed, to have businesses back to normal hours.

I will miss our Snowy, though.

It’s New Year’s Eve. 2011 is on its way out, 2012 is on its way in. Some will spend quiet evenings at home, some will head out to dinners and parties and other celebrations. My sister will hop a plane to Jamaica (or, so she says….I am a bit skeptical). No matter where you are this evening, the sentiment is the same – a celebration of a new year, a fresh start, a promise of new beginnings.

For me, 2011 was a good year. I’m ending it in our new house that I love, with Paul and his family and my sweet wonderful kitties. I don’t get to be with my own family today, but we all keep in touch and somehow we seem to grow closer despite our distance from one another. This year, I challenged myself to be a better person, to take risks, to live. I focused more on Zumba and found not only a great form of exercise, but a group of amazing friends that I love. I jumped out of a plane despite a fear of heights and a distaste for flying, and loved it. Not only did I not go back to being a call center grunt this year, I got a new job in Customer Relations that for the last several months has given me challenges and successes that I have reveled in. All in all, I have no complaints about the year.

For 2012, I do have some resolutions. My first and biggest one is to enjoy all that I have, to relax and be happy. Every aspect of my life is really, really great and I’m hoping for more of the same in the new year. I’m looking forward to the exciting things we have planned: our trip to California in April, our vacation to Hawaii in December, my parents’ summer visit to see us. I’m starting the new year in a job that I love, and am excited for new challenges and opportunities to learn new things.

I hope the good times will outnumber the bad, and I will have lots of fun and lots of great experiences. I’m content with the events of the year we’re leaving behind, and looking forwad to beginning 2012.

Happy New Year, everyone!!