So I’m changing back into my dress after yoga class at work tonight.  I am in the handicapped bathroom on my floor — they’re cleaning the ladies’ room, plus it has a lot more space in which to maneuver.  I lean against the wall and lean down to put on my socks and boots.  Suddenly, I hear a click and a whir.  I think for a second as to what it could be, then I recognize it as the wall-mounted automatic Purell dispenser.  I stand back up, glance in the mirror, and confirm that, indeed, I now had a dollop of a white substance on my dress.  "Great," I thought, "I’m doing my Monica Lewinsky impression."

This weekend, I was having brunch with "the girls."  One of them had a friend in from out of town who is pregnant with her second child.  There was a discussion at one point about the sex of her baby — did she know, did she want to know, did she find out about the other one in advance, would each of us want to know, etc.  Before I piped in, I realized that in my mind, my answer was fairly definite, but not at all what I expected to be my first thought.  It was:  it won’t matter because I will likely get to choose the sex of my child.  I just turned thirty-seven years old.  I am as single as single can be.  Through some miracle, if I met my future husband tomorrow and got on the insta-family track I might be able to get pregnant naturally.  As young as I feel, mother nature may not agree.  I also think I have a very low threshold for the amount of scientific meddling I am willing to withstand in order to have a baby — I think I would sooner adopt (then again, my future husband might have an opinion on the matter).  If I end up adopting, I would imagine that I can decide if I would like a boy or a girl.  Plus, I would get to avoid the whole pregnancy/childbirth with the associated trauma to the body that I have heard about firsthand (try that in your junior high sex-ed class — that’ll scare the bejeesus out of those horny kids).  Obviously, only time will tell, but biology dictates that I will likely get to choose my own adventure.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t had one in a while due to vacation, holidays, etc., but today is a very Monday-ish feeling Monday — I swear there was some magical force drawing me deeper and deeper under my covers as soon as my alarm went off.  Sigh.  Off we go.

Last night in the blustery cold I was lucky enough to be sharing some wine and cheese with Carolyn, Vivian, and Katie when my phone rang.  It was Travis, my mortgage consultant at Citibank (we’re still working on some details).  He sounded like hell — like he had caught a dose of the plague I had recently, but he had lost his voice on top of it.  I told him so, and then he went on a tirade.  Apparently Travis lives with his girlfriend of four plus years and she nags him.  A lot.  He was sent out to shovel the driveway in the midst of a snowstorm, despite his arguments that it was just going to keep snowing and he’d have to do it again.  Lo and behold, Travis was quite right — a blizzard dumped a foot of snow in his area.  The next morning, someone offered to snowblow his driveway for $20 (which seemed like a reasonable price to me, but then again, I haven’t shoveled snow since 1994) and he took them up on it.  Said girlfriend then proceeded to get upset with him for paying the money to have someone do it for him.  "Travis," I said, "sounds like you need to do some thinking about this relationship."  We then proceeded to chat about how she nagged him about cleaning, etc., and I mentioned that I will never cohabitate with anyone again unless we hire someone to clean — I firmly believe that it is money well spent to prevent a great deal of aggravation.  He seemed to like that idea.  Whether or not he remains with his girlfriend is yet to be seen.  If anyone does listen to our call (as they may be recorded for quality assurance purposes), they’ll probably get a kick out of it.  Not sure why he felt like sharing all that with me, but I’m going to take it as a compliment.

I’ve thought some more about my resolutions, and they can pretty much be summed up with one phrase:  take action.  I have some life goals, benchmarks I want to reach, behavior I’d like to change — it can all be done by taking action — taking concrete steps to get where I want to be.  Don’t talk — just do.

I’ve done some housecleaning/purging over the past few days, which feels wonderful, and I’d like to continue to do the same.  As soon as the dust from the closing clears and I have a better sense of my budget, I’m going to get to work painting, decorating, and replacing some furniture and light fixtures around this place.  I can’t wait.  I am in dire need of a fresh start.

And as I look back over the new year, I just want to say how grateful I am for many things in my life.  My job and my home, for starters, but more importantly, the people in my life.  My family, who are always there with love and support, especially when things get rough, and my friends.  I have done a lot of thinking lately about who my real friends are, and I am so thankful to have many, many people who fall into this category.  People who I can call on in times of crisis, people who, when I am upset, are fierce protectors — they not only help me feel better, but they are proactively angry at those who may have upset me in the first place.  They are the people who want to spend time with me, laugh and cry with me, share a meal or a glass of wine.  They understand the importance of communication if we hit ever hit a bump in the road of our friendship, and who will be there when the bump is smoothed over.  For those of you out there reading this, you know who you are. I am so thankful to have you in my life — happy new year, and I’m looking forward to seeing more of you in 2008.

Another year has gone by.  Today’s my birthday — I can hardly believe it!  I know it’s been dreadfully quiet around here lately, and I apologize.  I was sick as a dog and trying desperately to work through it since I have this week off.  At the same time I’ve been running around trying to finalize everything for the closing on my apartment, which (fingers crossed) is happening tomorrow morning.  I’ve been laying pretty low, watching home decorating shows, and movies, but I’ve been slowly coming out of it.  I managed to do the "traditional" Jewish Christmas eve — a movie and Chinese food — and then celebrate Christmas with a run, a delicious dinner at Katie and Jeff’s, topped off with karaoke courtesy of GirlyNYC.  Today I am relaxing, perhaps getting a mani/pedi, getting a few certified checks, and possibly even hitting the schvitz before this evening’s birthday festivities.  And I promise to write more now that I’m back in the land of the living!

Got the damn plague again.  Am trying to struggle through because I have an inordinate amount of crap to do, both work and personal, before the holidays.  Not a happy camper.  Sniffle.

I must say, I was incredibly impressed with both Derek’s resolutions and with his promise to update his readers regularly on his progress.  I still am not sure about my resolutions this year, although there’s one from last year that needs to be on the list again.  At John‘s suggestion, I had resolved to spend two nights a week at home.  I have failed miserably on this front.  Now that I’m buying my place, my monthly housing expenses are actually going to go up — I am already making changes in my spending habits to prepare.  I haven’t bought any clothes, I have been bringing my lunch and/or breakfast to work almost every day, and am eating out less (believe it or not).  Also a while back (and somewhat more related to Apartment Therapy than anything else), I decided to start entertaining more.  Very low key — brunches, Sunday dinners, and have been doing that as well, although not as often as I’d like.  So — inspired by Derek, I’m going to think a bit more about my resolutions and post them here.  Any suggestions (the NYC triathlon is already on the list)?