Catching up

OK.

So here's what's been going on.

I've gotten my first wage-earning job as a massage therapist. I was fortunate enough to know someone who knew someone at an orthopedic surgeon's office across town called Florida Center for Orthopaedics. (I'll refrain from linking to it and let you find it in another browser window, because I don't want the site administrator -- whom I'm guessing is the tall, skinny, young techie who I see walking around the clinic bored all the time -- to stumble upon this page by reading the referring URLs log.)

I'm in a little room near the physical therapy department, of which I'm a staff member. I've been there for slightly more than a month, and I love it so far. PIP insurance often covers prescription massage therapy, so most of the patients sent to me are "MVAs" (motor vehicle accident victims) who have whiplash, headaches, some sort of back pathology or a combo of those. A couple are "self-pays," people who are paying out-of-pocket for a regular massage.

The doctor's office doesn't have that many massage clients (yet, I'm told), so I'm only needed twice a week for now -- which is fine, because I'm still working about twice a week at my Old Job. And between those four days of work, we're doing just fine financially. As someone with a short-attention span and who's quickly bored and dissatisfied by repetitive tasks, I've really enjoyed the variety between the two jobs.

The plan is to gradually decrease my time at the Old Job as business at the doctor's office picks up. I've been assured by my boss, the manager of PT (physical therapy; there must be more medical acronyms tossed around than in a military barracks), that it would, but I'm satisfied with the pace for now. I've learned a lot in a short amount of time, I'm getting more confident with my hands, and sports medicine and ortho is the branch of PT/massage I think I'd like to get into.

The other bit of big news is that I bought a sculling single. It's used, and it's been around the block -- er, lake -- oh, about 10,000 times, but I bought it for dirt cheap from the rowing club of which I'm a member. (Ick -- I see I'm front and center in the big honkin' photo that pops up on the main page. The blond woman on my right with the sunglasses on her head is my aformentioned double sculls partner.)

The boat (I'll call it the Red Racer for now; hope the name doesn't stick) has been with the club for longer than I have and has been extensively used and abused, and after the club recently purchased four brand-new singles, I figured the Red Racer would never see water again. But more importantly, an old sculling coach once told me that despite its age and condition, he thought the Red Racer was the fastest scull the club owned.

So those two reasons were enough to convince me to sink my tax refund into buying the Red Racer, a set of sculling oars and repairs. The pictures of the boat are actually those I took for the boat's manufacturer, where I've had it sent for refurbishing and repairs. As a result, I only got to row it once after I bought it before it was shipped away to Canada (which, incidentally, was a sizeable chunk of the repair cost). Hopefully, I'll get it back before the summer, with a new paint job (what color should I have them paint it?), riggers, rudder and finish!

Speaking of short-attention spans, I think I've reached the end of mine. More to come soon.

World tour

One of my favorite sites to read on a lazy Sunday afternoon: BBC News' From Our Own Correspondent

Congratulations...

... are in order for my "little bro," MAP, who just recently got engaged. I love you and miss you, and I can't wait for the big day!

My life so far

I still owe you a long post detailing what's been going on for the past 6 weeks or so. I'm going to have to block off some time for that, so I can't do it right away. I hope to have something up by the end of this weekend.

Age/old

Someone told me today he thought I was 24 years old.

I didn't know whether to be flattered or offended. If I were between 26 and 30, that probably would have been flattering. But I'm 34, which makes me wonder whether I don't act or dress my age. I have no desire to be one of those 55-year-old leather-skinned women who still wears miniskirts and parties with her daughter and her daughter's friends.

Hey there

Huff Stuff's blog has a new home. Tune in here from now on. I'll keep the old blog around as an archive, but I'll be posting here from now on. This is just easier to manage, and hopefully I'll no longer get blog spam.