Ugh.

I am very tired. Turns out when you work at a shelter during the holidays, you can get a lot of phone calls. Also donations. I'm not going to say it burnt me out on Christmas, but I am very tired. It definitely made my personal Christmas prep seem like nothing in comparison to the to-do list to prep for work.

"It's Really Busy Tonight For Some Reason" and other lies

So I got to go to Urgent Care tonight because I needed to get a prescription refilled and... well, it's a long story and frankly none of your business. So butt out. But when I got there, the guy was all, "oh, it's a really long wait tonight for some reason," as though normally he could have slipped me right in, but people were just feeling extraordinarily sick or something this evening. I half expected him to then start talking about the latest outbreak of the flu, or how something really nasty was going around... but he didn't. And as I sat for like an hour in the waiting room, and then for half an hour or so in the little room they put you in to wait to make you feel like something is happening even though you're not anywhere near seeing the doctor still, I thought to myself, this is always how both nurse- and patient-friends of mine describe it when they have to go to urgent care or the emergency room (or work there). I'm sure there are slow times, but I never hear, "they just whipped us right back and wrote a prescription and we were done in 20 minutes!" That would be why one family went across the street, got Teriyaki, and proceeded to turn one of the tables into their family dinner table. (Toddler saying YUM! loudly after every bite=precious! Reminds me of Little Brother, who also loudly expresses approval, like at my birthday dinner when he kept yelling something along the lines of, "I like this pizza!")

So what other lies do people tell that are fun like the waiting room lie?

1. "I'm on a diet," to the little Camp Fire kid they can't just say no alone to when they pass them outside the store trying to sell their mints. Also "I'm diabetic."

2. "I'm sorry, I have no cash on me," said to the homeless person they are certain will buy alcohol (which perhaps is a justifiable theory, especially if said person is weaving or slurring, or smells like a brewery. I advocate giving food or contributing to your local shelter. In other words, just call me. I like donations. :) )

3. "I have a pre-pay policy for cleaning," said by the despicable dry cleaner guy near our shelter who totally profiled my friend, who is African-American, so he assumed she was most likely homeless or just not good for the money. We asked other people if they had used them, and found that his policy changed for people of different... appearances. She is going elsewhere. We don't like him. That is putting it mildly.

4. "The owner just dropped the prize on this unit." The statement I got from almost every unit I looked at when I was moving. It's possible it was sometimes true, but it sounded more like a sales pitch, because, shoot, if you're offering me a deal, I better snatch it up!

What else am I missing?

In An Effort to Be Less Cranky

I am cranky. Not as cranky as I was earlier, but I can still feel myself festering. So I am taking Dizzle's advice and thinking about things that I am grateful for. She actually suggested a gratitude journal, which I might do, but for right now, because I don't feel like getting up off the couch, I'm going with gratitude blogging. Plus I think you need to do a gratitude journal too. See, look at me not limiting my gratefulness to the month of November!

I am grateful for...

1. Cute nieces and nephews! I was shown love in the form of stickers, tackles, hugs, fist bumps, and smiles on Thanksgiving. Too cute.

2. My cute apartment. I'm mostly unpacked. It now just qualifies as a mess. I even have pictures on the walls, thanks to Alice and children!

3. A job I love, even if I did want to squish a couple of people today. They were trying to help me, so I should not have wanted to squish them. Fortunately there was no ACTUAL squishage. And they didn't squish me, even in all my crankiness.

4. All the new things I have learned from my job. I'm a much healthier and smarter person for it.

5. Amazing friends. I heart you guys! My life would suck without you. Call me and I will sing to you about it.

6. Youtube. Where, when I have a sudden yearning for Air Supply, I can just type in "I'm All out of Love," and, voila! Hours of sing-along fun!

7. My new boots that SusieQ got me for my birthday. :) Thanks!

8. Living in Washington. Especially for living in the Seattle area. Purtiest place I've ever seen!

9. Books. I love reading them. Also, I like the smell of a library book. And I love having lots of them around me.

10. My laptop. I can talk to my friends, stalk people on MyFace, blog, compose a lovely Christmas letter, listen to music, and watch TV shows. All in one nifty device. I want to marry it.

I think ten is enough for one night. I'm going to write more specific things on a list that you don't get to see. So neener.

Don't Make Me Call You Dirk.

Since the dawn of time, people have been arguing on MyFace about when it is acceptable to think about Christmas. Some say we must first recognize and celebrate Thanksgiving. To those people, I say, really???? We need to take the month of November to be thankful, and think about food, and football?? Is that the rule? Here all this time I thought we could also incorporate thankfulness into Christmas, what with the whole Birth of Christ celebration and family time. And in what way does Christmas music distract us from the feeling of gratitude and 12th man-ness that November brings? How is this a conflict? And why must you harsh on my mellow when I say I'm feeling good from hearing me some Christmas tunes? I did not make you listen to them. Why you got to be a Christmas hater?

I had a friend who posted as her status how she was enjoying some Christmas music-listening. To which she got comments like, "yay!" and "me too!" And then some putz had to say "vomit." Um, excuse me, determined-to-be-perpetually-single-and-alone-in-your-obnoxiousness. Have we forgotten our manners? If someone puts that they are excited to go see their favorite band play, do you put "vomit?" Well, maybe you do, because you're rude, but that's called bad manners. Why do you have to be all negative when someone shares something that makes them happy. I'm not forcing you to turn to the Christmas station. I'm willing to bet said station is not your regular station (at least in the Seattle area). I'm never going to let you in my car because you are rude and clearly need more time walking to think about how you have behaved. So why must you be Dirk Downer?

Up next on the Things People Spend Pointless Time Debating on MyFace: Snow--do we want it to come or not? Um... People... it's gonna come or not come regardless of how rude you are to your Friends. Just saying.

That Clears it All Up...

I'm confused. Anyone else confused by this? Ummm... so, the whole prostitution thing, still bad, right? But said prostitutes don't have to worry about immorally wearing condoms? Because they were worried?

Amazing.

Sitting in my office today I could hear some of our clients in a room far off singing along with a song someone was playing.

When I see your face,
There's not a thing that I would change.
Cause you're amazing,
Just the way you are.

Ah, Bruno. You know how to sweet talk a girl.

Seriously, though. The voices I was hearing so clearly were singing full-out, with feeling. Because those words are powerful. And what those women long to hear. Many of these women have been manipulated and abused by people they identified as loved ones. So many people tell them, in word as well as the way they treat them, that they are broken, or not good enough. How many people tell them they are amazing just the way they are? And how many people tell them they are amazing without an agenda.

It just reminded me. We need to spend less time trying to change each other, because that's not our job, and more time reaching out with love, recognizing the beautiful spirits, and encouraging each other to nurture that beauty and let it grow. Think of someone in your life who makes you feel amazing, flaws and all. They see your inner light. And start being that person that sees the inner light more.

Someday My Food Will Cook.

So, you know that thing about cooking more in my new place? Yeah. Turns out that you have to put stuff away before that becomes possible. Unfortunately, I have been so tired/sick (he he, sick and tired) that I have not quite gotten to wiping down the rest of the shelves in my kitchen, lining them with shelf liner, and deciding where to keep things. And then there's now, where I can mostly breathe again, at least for the moment, but I still don't feel like peeling my butt off the couch and working towards finishing unpacking.

On the flip side, aiding me in my procrastination efforts has been Mockingjay, which is part of the Hunger Games series, which I totally recommend, btw. So I've been reading more. Yay me! Of course, it's a library book, so all those other books I have had in stacks forever are still... well, not in stacks, but on my new special Read Me shelf, because I could fill a whole shelf with just SOME of the books I own that I have not read. I should get on that.

Also, I have decorated my place with my own stuff. Currently it looks more like my place puked pottery, because I haven't really distributed things, they're all just kind of huddled on certain shelves, but we're getting there.

I technically know two neighbors now. Yay. And check.

And I have walked... nowhere. Because it is dark. And the weather sucks. And I was dying from a cold all weekend. So... there's always next weekend?

My Birthday and What You Should Buy Me

My birthday is less than a month away. I'm just saying. Here are a few practical gifts that you might consider picking up for me. I'm a helper.

1. A vacation home. For when I want to escape from the city. All I ask is that it have nice fireplaces, stellar lighting, insulation that keeps the heat in or the cool or whatever I want, a great TV with Satellite and lots of movies to watch, many acres around it, possibly a horse, at least one river... oh, and it should be in high altitude for some nice snowy winters and beautiful blue-skied summer days. Also a really comfy bed with feathers and stuff. And a very unobtrusive maid to clean things so I don't have to.

2. A new fridge with a good ice maker in it for my apartment. Also a new oven.

3. A microwave. My apartment didn't come with one. Lame.

4. A vacation to Europe. For a month. Or so.

5. Clean my kitchen and unpack it for me. Strangely sitting on my couch coughing up a lung and blogging has not moved me closer to my goal of being entirely unpacked and settled. Go figure.

6. New curtains for my apartment. I don't understand why the ones that came with it are here. They are gross. I need to find out if my landlord is attached to them. If so, he can store them. Gross. Gross. Gross.

7. Ooh, ooh, a kiln and a wheel and clay and stuff for my vacation home. So I can make lots and lots of pottery.

8. Time to catch up at work. Because it may never happen. Blargh.

9. A bookstore. I really should own one.

10. Chocolate. I really want some chocolate right now.

Is it Weird that I Really, Really Like...

Taylor Swift. No joke. I mean, it's not just that she has cool videos that involve castles and pretty dresses. Which she totally does. But she also wrote a song to Kanye expressing her forgiveness. And I really, really like the song. Don't judge. You know you're a closet Taylor fan too. I like her message. "Today is never too late to be brand new."

2010 MTV Video Music Awards - More VMA Video

Also she has pretty eyes.

What the Future Holds

I read my horoscope today, and it was totally lame. It said something about making decisions thoughtfully or something. So, since my horoscope was no help, I'm going to consult the online magic eight ball.

Question: Should I hang my little shelves on the wall behind my couch?

Answer: Yes.

Question: Are you sure? Because I also think they would go well in my bed room.

Answer: Definitely.

Question: Wait, so definitely I should hang them over the couch?

Answer: Yes.

Question: Wow! Are you always this consistent?

Answer: Maybe.

Question: Okay. Now that I have the shelves situated, tell me, do I have a cold? My head hurts.

Answer: My sources say no.

Question: Really? Because I'm about to rip my sinuses out of my head. Also my ear canals. You really don't think I have a cold?

Answer: My sources say no.

Question: Wow, your sources are kind of wacky. Can I take some cold meds anyways, before I am tempted to knock myself unconscious?

Answer: My sources say no.

Question: Um, do you know what you can do with your sources?

Answer: No way!

Question: Seriously? I have to explain it?

Answer: Absolutely!

Question: Can I do it after I go take my cold meds?

Answer: Ask again later.

Question: That's a little passive-aggressive, don't you think?

Answer: My sources say no.

Question: Again with the sources???

Answer: No way!

Question: Okay, whatever. I have a cold. Should I go to work tomorrow?

Answer: No way!

Welp. That's decided then.

I Need a New News Source.

So you know in the past I've been a big fan of the CNN. Of course, since my husband Anderson works there, I'm kind of fond of it. But seriously, their website is starting to suck. Or beyond starting. They have so many stupid teaser headlines, and too much of their "news" seems to have to do with celebrities and gossip about people. Blech. I am trying to de-gossip my life. I have freed myself of certain celebrity gossip sites. I realized a year or two ago that more often than not the person doing the gossiping was more just enraging me for the way they would say mean and hurtful things and dehumanize celebrities, and that was called entertainment. Um, not really very entertaining to me. These are people. With really screwed up lives. That kind of makes me sad. We should not encourage or mock. They need help. And possibly medication. At least the ones they were mocking most.

So where might one go for news online now? I need me some good, solid news. And not all left leaning or right leaning. Just some nice meaty journalism and stuff that makes me think and want to say things and do stuff! Is there such a thing? Am I delusional?

Goals for My New Place

I feel like this is a new beginning in many ways for me. So since I'm all starting over, I am going to set some goals. That I might possibly remember after I click on "publish post." We shall see.

1. Know at least one neighbor. This shouldn't be hard, considering we all share a laundry room. And I have a feeling at least one of 'em's gotta be Mormon. We'll see. At my current residence, I used to know a neighbor, but the ones here now are all stuffy and unapproachable. I'm just saying.

2. Walk places more. Also should work for me, since there are stores and bus stops and stuff fairly near to me. I think the library might even be less than a mile.

3. Cook more things. I'm going to start watching this site more. And cooking things. Like for dinner, and for lunch the next day, and possibly dessert items to bribe people.

4. Read More. I have too many books that I just packed that I haven't read. Or haven't finished reading. Slacker me.

5. Decorate My Place with All My Own Stuff. Woo!

I'm Moving.

It's true, I'm moving. I'm very excited about where I am moving to. I'm not telling you on here, though. It's a secret. Unless you are my MyFace friend, in which case it's not a secret to you or 201 other people (crazy, right?? I had no intention of letting it get so out of control). But I considered the important things in planning this move:

1. Is it closer to work, thereby saving me time, money and I'm sure other things? Yes.

2. Is it close (within walking distance even) to grocery stores, restaurants, a park, my church building, and other important things? Yes.

3. Does it increase the amount of time it would take me to go see Big Sis, Little Man, Little Brother, and Sweet Pea (hereby dubbed)? No. That was key.

4. Does it skeeve me out to be in the apartment, neighborhood, etc? No. Score.

5. Is there an in-unit washer/dryer? No. Dangit. I guess there had to be some kind of downer here.

6. Am I close to friends? Yes. Score. Although few of you are going to need to move further north to accommodate me. Or West, as the case may be. A-HEM. *cough*Alice*cough*

If you Aim that Grassroots at Me One More Time...

There are certain things that irritate me. I know that statement in itself shocks you. But with this lovely election season upon us, I've been noticing people dropping grassroots in at every possible opportunity. Um, really? REALLY?? It's grassroots? Which is why you have a nationally aired commercial? Wow, those are some rich roots you are pulling from. Because if understand correctly, grassroots means it starts with the people in local communities, blah blah blah. So really, all kinds of crazy causes could be "grassroots" efforts. That doesn't mean they are not CRAZY. And it troubles me that possibly someone might vote for something based on that word. You could probably call the American Revolution a grassroots thing. And, you know, that turned out kind of good. But, um, you could also call certain racist groups with silly titles and costumes grassroots, because they probably started small with just a few idiots and grew from there. So, could we stop with the grassroots? That term kind of irritates me. It's a little too... not grassroots. Commercial and stupid.

Ma List.

I've been thinking about my bucket list. And coincidentally, I saw a post on MyFace today that was a tad bit perplexing to me. How can you "stop by" England for two days and then cross it off your bucket list? If one of those days is the day you arrive, you really are losing a bit of that day, so you really only have like a day and a half. Plus if you leave the next day, you lose time. So you really only have 24 hours. Um, what exactly are you doing out of this? Now, I have travel on my bucket list. But seriously? I haven't lived until I've seen a few streets in England? Um, that's just silly. I went to London for about 2 days, and Paris for about 3, and I got just enough of a taste of them to put going back long enough to do some stuff on my bucket list.

I did the whole see the crown jewels/Tower of London/London Bridge thing while I was in London I went to Herrods. I rode the double decker (tourist) bus. Saw Buckingham Palace and the changing of the guard. And I believe I had fish and chips at one point. But I did NOT get to go to Bathe, and see the Jane Austen museum, and run about the streets of Bathe in mocking of the terrible 2008 rendition of Persuasion. Also I didn't get to go wherever it is all my ancestors came from. I want to figure that out and go there. Go see the ol' homestead or whatnot.

I did the whole Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Louvre thing. But I didn't get to sit at a cafe and watch all the parisian-ness go on. And I feel like i should have had more French food instead of just tourist food. So, yeah, France is still totally on my bucket list. Also I could get all down on the homestead there, too.

Basically I will always have travel on the bucket list. I will never finish it. I better hurry up and get independently wealthy.

Two Words Not to Call Me.

I have discovered that there a few words that I really don't enjoy having label me.

1. Emotional. I AM NOT EMOTIONAL. HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT. I THOUGHT YOU KNEW ME, BUT CLEARLY YOU DON'T. STOP LOOKING AT ME. I'M NOT CRYING.

2. Different. Read: Mormon. As in, I didn't invite you to my birthday party because you are different than all my other friends. Okay, I don't completely hate that word, because I suppose it is true. But I hate it when people use it as an excuse for leaving me out.

What is With the Running from a Blowing Up Building Thing?

As I was flipping through the crappy TV tonight (WHAT is UP with this season, btw???), I flipped past the requisite Running from the Burning Building Which Explodes As the Last Guy Exits, Throwing Him in the Air scene. Um, really, TV writers? You need to step up your game. That shot is so Magnum PI, 1983. I'm just saying. It was cutting edge (sort of) THEN. Now, it's just goofy. And sticking a kid in the group is just silly. Especially after the scene before that with the two chicks fighting in the pool trying to drown each other, interrupted by the brute of a man with a gun held to an innocent looking little boy's head. Um. Dumb. Not even suspenseful. Just dumb. And kind of bringing to mind that one stupid commercial by the medical company I will not name because I have their stupid insurance and I hate them with a passion that will not die. You know, the one where he shoots down all their stupid story plot lines, and they continue to describe what can only be Really Bad Soap Opera material. Okay, some of their bits kind of describe Grey's, but whatever, Patrick is hot. So shut up.

And another thing. WHAT IS WITH THE LAW PROCEDURALS??? The other night all three of the major network channels had one on at the same time. And all three sucked. Are they having a suckage contest? WHYYYYYYYYY?? And right behind that in the suckage competition is the Medical Procedurals. Um, are there no other professions in the world? Why, networks, why? If it were not for Castle, The Mentalist, and Fringe, I would despair for the world. Because clearly mysteries are better. Also they are funny.

Remember the days of A-Team, Wonder Woman, and Magnum PI? When every-day joes (ok, not totally every day-- I personally never wear my leotard out of the house, let alone in my invisible jet) would save the day? Siiigh. Those were the DAYS. Networks, this sensational crap isn't working for you. How about some actual good writing? Go crazy. You never know where it will lead you. Because, so help me, if I see one more show about the rookie chick cop with something to prove and the perfect hairdo and figure to boot, I am going to... well, be forced to Netflix Magnum PI. Because clearly the fact that I referenced it twice means I need a little more Higgins in my life.

The People I Meet

Sometimes in my line-o-work, I meet people who really, reeeally believe they are REALLY good people. Because they Give Back to their community. It looks something like this (there is kind of a spoiler alert for Dr Horrible's Sing-a-long blog, so if you have it in your Netflix queue, I'm warning you now... and if you don't have it in your queue, I might disown you):

Except I've never seen anyone break out into song. That is to say, I haven't seen any of the volunteers break out into song. The staff, yes. But that's another story. Also I like to think that most of the volunteers I work with are just doing the best they can, and not just loving themselves the way Captain Hammer loves himself. And hey, even self-adoration could accidentally result in learning to be socially responsible and open their eyes to some reality. I choose to be all optimistic like that.

Efficient Movie Watching 101

If you don't know about the Bunnies, then your life is sadly incomplete. For instance, this recap of Star Wars is helpful. I think Little Man would especially appreciate it for the Chewbacca parts.

Also, been hearing about this Twilight thing, but don't want to commit to the whole movie? Me neither.

I see there's one for New Moon, too. I'm thinking I might just watch that one and call the movie watched.

What I Learned on Summer Vacation; Or, You Got to Have Friends.

One day during my high school career, one of my friends caught me in the midst of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The next day, I got a funny little greeting card every class period that day. Somehow, this friend got hold of my schedule, beat me to all of my classes, and if memory serves, left the card where I actually sat in each class and disappeared before I got there. I still have all six of those cards. They totally cheered me up. And sometimes, I pull them out and they cheer me up all over again.

That gesture, to me, is a great illustration of a good friend. I am coming to appreciate good quality friends more and more.

I have learned (mostly through a few good friends practically beating this into my head because I was not using my listening ears) that good friends:

1. Give you some room to be imperfect.

2. Tell you when you are being stupid. With love, of course, and accepting that you might not listen to them. Because you're stupid. But they have faith you are doing the best you can. And that some day you will not be stupid.

3. Call you to check up on you when they know you've had a crappy day/week/month. Or they text. Or IM. Or send you pictures of their cute babies. Or they show up at your house with cheesecake. I'm just saying. You know. If anyone wants to demonstrate that last one....

4. Tell you cheesy jokes to distract you from your crappy, crappy mood. And do goofy things until you laugh really, really hard.

5. Leave you chocolate in your office. It hasn't happened to me. But I have faith that someday it totally will. I just have to get certain people to start reading my blog....

6. Read my blog. I'm just saying. If you're reading this you get extra points. You know, in my friend competition.

I Blame My Pack Rattery On Mom.

Big Sis told me today that my blog is looking stale.

Um, I do not know what you mean. Just because I had to pause and think about what my address is when typing it into my browser.... That proves nothing.

Today I would like to talk about junk. As in, all the junk I own. That I have to pack. Because I am moving. And that depresses me. Not the moving part. That should be fun and exciting. After I find the apartment, that is.

But the PACKING. Where did I get all this stuff??? And seriously, I did some purging last year when I was unemployed and all restless.

The last time I moved, one of my friends remarked to me that I would have to get rid of some books because I was out of room on my bookshelf. *GASP* I am still friends with her, but it's been rocky, to say the least. I question her values, really. So skimming down on the books is out.

I've thought about getting rid of all the shirts that I don't quite fit right now. But then what will I wear next month when I have lost 10 months from the stress and physical exertion of moving? Really, one must be practical.

Shoes. I could get rid of some shoes. I have a few pairs I don't ever wear. That should free up... an eighth of a box.

Pottery. I could get rid of some. But I made it! And I don't want to throw it away. So pottery for one and all for Christmas, I say!

Old nail polish and assorted old stuff under the sink in the bathroom. Okay. Now we are getting somewhere. There goes 1/16th of a box from the bathroom.

Broken stuff. That should knock down at least one medium size box. Shut up. I was going to fix it all.

Old magazines. One small box. Because I was going to read them again. Some day.

What else? How do I make it all go away so I don't have to pack it? And don't say the gnomes. 'Cause they are totally going with.

Let's All Take a Step Back and Think Before Clicking Here.

Many of you may have heard about the controversial video taken of a Seattle police officer who punched a teenage girl. If not, here ya go. It was taken on a cell phone so try not to puke from all the moving around...



I've been a little bit surprised by some reactions to the video. Many people I've been hearing talk about it agree that the girl who got clocked shouldn't have interfered (that part wasn't the surpising part). Also, if you notice, they jaywalked directly under an overpass built over the street to keep people from getting hit on what is a crazy busy street in Seattle. So that shows they're kind of dumb. But I'm a little disturbed to see people "liking" the officer's actions on MyFace. Um, really, he sucks so much at restraining a teenage girl that he has to punch her in the face? They need to teach those officers some basic restraint techniques. I'm not saying he should be fired or anything, but really, I don't like seeing women get punched in the face. Call me old-fashioned.

Ooh, ooh! A topic! I unblocked!

So in the mornings when I get up I turn on the TV and turn it to the news station so I can hear the weather and the traffic and the stupid sappy human feature stories they like to banter over in the mornings. The channel I turn it to is the only one I've found that shows local news instead of national (which I find even more painful, being that they're sitting on couches and gossiping about Lindsay's court appearances and stupid things like that) changes programming at 8am. Sometimes if I am driving in instead of taking my car, I end up catching the beginning of that one. Sometimes, in fact, in that case I wake up to that one, because I turn it on with the intention of getting up and then... blink... for a really long time. And it totally sounds like actual, factual news. And then you think, wait, what? What did they just say about Obama? I do live in Seattle, right? I'm still here? And why is the footage they are showing of him filmed with what appears to be a cell phone?



Because, my friends, the 700 Club thinks they are a news program now. Maybe that's what that show has always been, but I didn't realize it. I thought it was just where nutty ladies with big hair and bad makeup talked about... whatever it is they talked about between "amens." But now they have these young twenty something women that don't look like they are crazy reporting things like it's news.

It's really weird.

And kind of hard to stop watching. It's like a car accident you can't look away from. Sometimes it looks like news. I'm sure some people do rely on it since our general media is kinda leaning to the left a wee bit.

So, the clip above. I don't get it. Why do "Christians" feel they need to prove that there is no global warming? And why must they act like all Christians think this. They can believe the world will come to an end. Why is the truthfulness of this global warming thing a threat?

But it looks like it's so... true! I'm telling you, be careful about starting to watch, because you may not be able to stop. Like when he says that prostitution will rise because of global warming right around 4:30 in the video. That's my favorite! It's toooo good!

Blah Blah Blah

I have bloggers block. What should I tell you about? Someone give me a topic.

Crazy Chicks!

Remember Little Fluff?

He had an accident (he might possibly have jumped off the oven range into a greasey pan), so I got a new little fluff.

And then that Little Fluff did the same thing into K's dinner. I think they need some mental health evaluation.

Clean. Clean. Clean.

So my closet shelf fell down a few weeks ago. See the lovely picture above and imagine my delight at that moment when I heard the loud CRASH. I might possibly have had too much weight on it at some point. But I totally had pared it down and there wasn't as much up there. I'm not saying I procrastinate or anything, but I totally just avoided my closet for several weeks. You know, instead of investigating the damage and picking things up. That's what I call stress management, my friends.

Since everything is hanging out on the floor for a while (until I find the motivation to go get the piece that broke from the hardware store and/or sucker my Daddy into fixing it for me), I have been taking the opportunity to identify things I can purge. A couple things I know:

1. I was overdue for cleaning out my financial records. How do I know? Because I had every paper related to financial aid and employment from the time I started in college on. It's been ten years since I graduated from college. More later on how old I feel.

2. I have a holiday decoration buying illness. I blame it on my mother. I think I have four boxes labeled Christmas. For people who have, you know, houses, and a children, and stuff, that's not that much. But I really haven't even gotten around to even getting it out in recent years. Still can't bring myself to get rid of anymore. I've already reduced it by several boxes. That was during my last purging, when I was unemployed.

If My Cell Phone Could Sing Me a Song...

I just got a new cell phone. FINALLY. I might possibly have had a terrible string of luck when it came to cell phones and... well... doors. Car doors. And so for the last half year or so I have been using a loaner phone courtesy of Alice. Now I have a pretty shiney new phone, and I hereby vow that it will not get slammed in a car door. Or really any door. I feel that this is a sensible plan.

What I DO need to do for my phone is find it a good ring tone. One that really expresses who I am. You know, At the Core. Here's the ones I've thought of so far:

1. Love Stinks, by J. Geils Band. And so it goes 'til the day you die.
2. Carry Out, by Timbaland (Featuring Justin Timberlake). Because nothing is more romantic than "take my order 'cause your body's like a carryout." And I like me some romance.
3. Nothin' On You, by B.O.B., because I AM the whole package, plus I pay my taxes. (Best lyrics of the year, btw.)
4. Or maybe I'll just get a Hoops and Yoyo ringtone.

Things That Make My Head Want to Explode

Seriously. Messed. Up.

What is This World Coming To?

Have you heard? The Boy Scouts saw a need to introduce a gaming merit badge. You know, because gaming is a big part of character building, which is what they are all about. I can imagine them, sitting around the table, scratching their heads, and saying, gorsh, what can we do to encourage boys to be better men? Hmm... Scratch, scratch. Then, ah ha! The light bulb came on. What boys need is more gaming. Because they are lacking that time in front of the TV nowadays. Those young hoodlums are spending way too much time gallavanting outdoors, building fires and learning how to give CPR. We need to bring more balance to their lives. But HOW can we convince them to spend more time on the X Box? You know, when we were kids, you didn't have to convince kids that gaming was important. They did it because it was the RIGHT thing to do, and you didn't have to bribe them. That's because our parents taught us what was most important. Kids just don't get that nowadays. That's it, fellas, we're going to make it a merit badge!

Phew. I'm so glad that the BSA has it's priorities straight. Our youth will be raised up right, and the next generation will have... really twitchy thumbs and no social skills.

Stinking Filarious.

I can talk good. I would like to introduce you to some new lingo you should integrate into your vocabulary.

1. Filarious. When funny doesn't cut it and hilarious seems too... easy.
2. Therapicky. Or Therapeuticky. For those feel-good moments after those feel-bad moments.

Top that, Webster.

If I were to get a tattoo...

I have friends with tattoos, and they have all these deep meaningful things. Besides the whole being a conservative little Mormon girl reason, I have never considered getting a tattoo because I am lame and see no deep meaningful symbols around me that I wouldn't get bored with in a few months. Here are my ideas on my tattoo that I'm totally going to get soon.

1. Kermit. I'm going to have the kermit collar put on my neck. Hot, right? Or should I say... hawt?
2. Cookie Monster. Possibly on my belly. Since that's where my cookie monster lives.
3. A huge seagull. All the way across my back. Because my inner voice says "Mine. Mine. Mine.Mine. Mine."
4. A daisy on my toe. To be original. (It's just a taaaaattoo of a flower, so I'll feel groovy, while takin' a shower. Er something.)

Yeah. There's a reason I don't have one. Okay, there's the whole Mormon thing too. But I feel that I have illustrated why we should all agree that I have made a wise decision all around.

Thought for the Day

"There is no limit to the good you can do, if you don't care who gets the credit." Harold B. Lee

My Friends Love Mormons.*

Hey, did I tell you guys that I'm Mormon? Wait, don't freak out and stop reading. I won't make any sudden movements, and I have not prepared a gospel message to share. Breeeeath.

I try to be fairly open about my religion, and one of the things I love about my closest friends, most of whom are not Mormon, is the genuine and respect they have for my personal beliefs. It affects the way I live, down to some of the day-to-day things that people take for granted. I've noticed that some friends are more open to hearing me explain our quirky Mormon ways than others. It's as though some people think that if they are not careful, I'm going to sneak up on them behind and dunk them in the baptismal font like a pool party game gone awry. Put away the arm floaties.Totally not going to happen.

I've found, though, that even if I try to explain a belief or cultural piece I generally get three very distinct reactions.

1. They try to change the subject as soon as possible. Their inner dialogue
goes something like this: "why is she telling me this? I didn't even ask her
about this. She knows I'm not interested. Maybe I should tell her in no
uncertain terms that I am not interested. I know, as soon as she takes a breath,
I will move on to some other topic."

2. They listen, trying to understand my crazy ways, because the information
helps put some things I share with them into context. Inner dialogue: "What is
this Visiting Teaching term you are throwing around? And you are in
the Relief Society presidency? It's a calling? You and your crazy Mormon slang!"

3. They become hostile. Inner dialogue (which really, at this point,
generally becomes outer dialogue and a very hurtful conversation): "Why would
you believe that? I've heard a, b, and c rumors (all false, twisted, and
offensive). I read it online, and I think you are being fed lies. Your life
would be so much happier if you would pull the wool out from over your
eyes and drink more."

One of my oldest friends, Carrie, is an example of type two. She's been to some church activities with me. She is happy with the way her life is, and she didn't have to tell me that because I know her well enough to know. And I have not, as yet, sneaked up behind her and dunked her in the baptismal font. I'm coming up from behind, all quiet-like see? Those Mormons are wily. She knows what callings are, and could probably even tell you what some of mine have been, dating back to high school. She knows how they have impacted my life. That's important to me. It makes me sad when friends, in what they think is a subtle way, change the subject when I try to talk about my parts of my life that involve my church. If you don't know what I do at church, or what my calling is, there's a whole huge part of my life you have no idea about. I can't vent to you about frustrations I have with something I am struggling with since you don't have the context. I can't tell you a funny story if it requires the context of understanding our meetings and how they work and other little nuances. Don't get me wrong, I have learned how to translate fairly well. But I realize a while ago, when I was telling Carrie a story about something that happened that involved my church life, that I felt relief. Because she has never required me to keep that life separate from our friendship. And that makes for a much more healthy friendship, don't you think?


In regards to type three, I don't encounter that type very much in my friends. And I think it is important to make the distinction that I don't mind having discussions with friends about doctrine in my church they disagree with. I had a friend tell me just last week that something I believe seemed bizarre to her. But she was respectful of my dedication and recognized the importance of the belief to me, too. I'm not offended if you look at some point of doctrine differently, or if you think something I believe is wacky. It's all about how the discussion is had. If we are both careful to respect each other's beliefs, then it can be educational and eye-opening on both ends. People who approach me this way often learn that they have misunderstood the doctrine, and often I come to understand how my friend views my church, what they believe, and why they might think something I believe is a little crazy.

*Much like the guy on The Anchorman who "loves lamp," Mad Hatter Loves Mormons. I tried to find a clip to illustrate but I can't find one of the whole scene and you need the buildup to understand..

Would you make fun of me if I told you I reeeeally want to make these? And eat them?

I Have Officially Diagnosed Myself.

I definitely have Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. I know this because one of the symptoms is the tendency to drop things, and I have been doing that since, like, birth. I'm so glad I've finally solved that mystery.

Got any illnesses I can diagnose for you?

Swim, Swim, Fishy, Fishy!

I went fishing today. For the first time ever. FFW (see yesterday's blog), who I shall call Fisher today, because I still don't have a permanent blog name for her, attempted to teach me. It was a valiant effort. My favorite part was when the shiny thing on the end (jig? it is through no fault of Fisher's I do not know this)would emerge from the water. I don't really care that there was probably no fish dumb enough to be fooled by my awkward attempts. It was good times. And I am now licensed, so yeah. I will be a pro. In my head.

I wanted to post the fishy song that came into my head when I titled this post, but I can't find it anywhere on the innernets. At my last job, we had a craft that we did with some kids at an info night at a school where they made fish puppets. My boss was doing the craft with the kids while I chatted up the parents. She wanted to teach them a song about fishes so they could put on a little show for the parents at the end. The song we found on the Internet was adorable, and got stuck in all our heads. Of course, by the time that night came, my boss could not remember the tune, so it became more of a chant. So, sorry, it won't be in YOUR head. Unless you want to call me, because I will totally sing it for you.

I couldn't find THAT fishy song, but I DID find this. Luckies.

Peer Pressure

I have come to the realization that I am a huge slob. Shush, peanut gallery. I went on a cleaning flurry tonight. It was caused partially by my effort not to throw a tantrum, and to use my energies for good instead of evil. The other part of it was the part where, after my initial cleaning, I realized that some might mock what I considered my clean orderly trunk. Specifically Friend from Work, who has yet to have a blog name assigned her, unless it's FFW. I don't heart that name though. I do heart saying heart this week, though. Anyways, the other night she told me that she hangs up most of her clothes, and that her hangers and the shirts on them all have to be hanging in the same direction or something wackadoodle like that. And so I mocked her. And realized that I am a big slob. Because,

1. I don't fold my clothes straight out of the dryer, which apparently happens in real life, as well as on the Brady Bunch when Alice is in charge.
2. I don't hang up my clothes that need hanging straight out of the dryer either. Because that is effort. I consider the effort I take to pull them from the pile I've thrown on my beanbag and drape them on my chair as sufficient. So, really, I sometimes don't hang them up at all, because once they are in the chair I can just sort through them to pick out my outfit for the next day anyways.
3. I don't iron. People who iron are crazy. And FFW and K both iron their jeans, so I know TWO REALLY CRAZY people. My theory is, it will get wrinkled in the car anyways. So if my skirt is a little wrinkly, it will just look like I drove to church or work or whatever. It happens. Why not just forgo the work part and get straight to the sitting induced wrinkles. Or in my case, the I-don't-hang-up-my-clothes wrinkles. I'm a believer in efficiency, what can I say.

So anyways, I cleaned my trunk tonight, and then I had to go back and tidy up the clean trunk. Because the wad of canvas bags I have for shopping COULD be folded instead of wadded, after all. So I kind of sort of folded each one into a wad as I shoved it into the holder bag. And the first aid kit could go under my front seat or something. So I hucked that up in the back seat, because that's one step closer to the front seat, being in the passenger part of the car. And I suppoooooose I could take the sleeping bag that has been there since I went to camp in mid-March up to my closet. But I draw the line at taking the bowling ball upstairs. Because you never know when a spontaneous bowling trip will occur, and I want to be sure that I have my own ball and shoes on hand.

The moral of the story is, I suck at cleaning. But I take pride in the little things. Like that I threw away the bagels that have been in the back seat since... you know, what, I don't judge you. Don't judge me.

Wow, Oprah, That IS a Very Serious Issue.

I was just watching the Oprah episode in which we meet the cast of Glee. Which by the way, I heart Glee. A lot. I don't understand people who don't. You know who you are. I still love you and all, but I'm a little sad for you, seeing as how your life is not complete. Anyways, I was just watching this Oprah, and they did the little "tomorrow on Oprah" segment right before commercial. Tomorrow on Oprah, they are having couples talk about their dysfunctional sex lives on national television, which, you know, will totally help. But one of the women literally refuses to kiss her husband because "it makes (her) skin crawl." Seriously? I would get if he had gotten all funny looking in his old age, but in the clip he actually appeared fairly attractive and as though he visits the gym far more regularly than I do, if that's possible. But perhaps there is a certain funk that you cannot detect seeing as how tv's don't broadcast smell? What could it be? I'm so intrigued. Almost intrigued enough to watch. But I go to Dr. Phil for my dysfunctional family moments. I don't know if I can cheat on him like that.

I Heart the Eighties

They just don't write good, solid, quality sappy songs anymore. Some components that can be found in said songs:

1. Dramatic Oooohing.
2. Dramatic Aaaahing.
3. Echoing
4. A good keyboard segment, possibly with some flutes or something in the background
5. Rolling thunder during the long instrumental section in the middle

They just don't make songs like they used to.

Example:




How can you not love the glowing eyes? The ninjas? The fencers? The tumblers? The flying boys' choir boy? The men in caveman diapers doing ballet? Those were the days...

Have a Good Weekend!

That would be the phrase I kept enthusiastically using today at work. And then the person wold look at me funny and I would wonder what their deal was. Because I seriously thought it was Thursday, if not Friday. Because that's how long this week has been so far. I mean, draaaaaama. You have no idea. Reorganization at work has resulted in some, um... let's call them growing pains. My poor partner in crime who has yet to receive a blog name because nothing is coming to my brain is ready for a vacation. Which is annoying since that means I have to endure days with no entertainment at work and nothing to occupy my time but... work. Gross.

P.S. Just glanced up at the screen to see a woman plop a finger on the table and the profilers on Criminal Minds look at it with interest, like it was a drawing of a cat or something. Also Mrs. King raised a botoxed eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder. Then we cut to commercial. I heart Criminal Minds.

Why I Hate Children

So, for those of you who know me this will come as no shock. I hate children. They giggle and they're loud and sticky and opinionated and they think farts are funny. I'm just saying. But mostly, the reason I hate children can be illustrated by my time in the theatre yesterday.

I went to see Alice in Wonderland, which I'm pretty sure was super good. From the parts that I heard, that is, over the incessant giggling coming from behind me. Over nothing. There was nothing funny going on. At least not on the screen. Maybe I was missing some neat trick involving Twizzlers and root beer or something. Because, you see, there were about 20 ten-year-olds in the row behind me. About ten minutes into the movie, they got not only The Eye, but I leaned over my seat and gave them the "Girls, you need to quiet down" to go with it. Oh, they were scared. When you are ten and adults yell at you the need to be rebellious fades a little bit. Unfortunately a few rows behind them were 3 twelve-year-olds who found themselves not only hilarious, but beyond the reach of adults' wrath. They are lucky I didn't feel like getting up. Because seriously, there was no whispering going on. I was hearing things like "where are they going?" in their six foot voices. You know, as opposed to their six inch voices. They seriously were closer to death than they possibly ever had been before. My death stares didn't last as long on them. It was dark.

I have realized something the last few years. My mom was mean. And there should really be more mean parents out there. Because she would not let me go to movies, or even the mall, with my friends alone when I was ten. Because I would have annoyed the crap out of all the adults out there, since my obnoxious sensor was turned off, as all children's are in those types of situations. Parents are so intent on being the cool parent, and the parent who is "fair," and the parent who is loved, that they forget they are training their little angels to behave like human beings. And that's why we are starting to see adults that don't know how to behave in the theatre either. Because we need more mean parents. I exhort you, parents: make your children cry more. Because I hate children. And if you leave them at the theatre unattended like that again, I make no promises they won't return to you with death stare marks seared into their foreheads, among other things.

I Would Just Like to Clarify

I have a fairly sarcastic sense of humor. In case you had not caught that. I like to make statements, in my blog as well as in life, that are meant to be funny because they are the OPPOSITE, see, of what is true. Like:

1. I hate kids. They are so whiny and demanding. Especially those darn babies.
2. I'm a firm believer in slacking. This is why I spend hours at work on MyFace and gossiping with the girls. My philosophy: do the least amount of work for the most pay you can manage.
3. Teenagers are hoodlums.
4. Book-learning is for weaklings.
5. Drama is fun. I am really glad I work with grownups who spread rumors like teenage girls.

I discovered that certain people who I thought "got" me take me more literally than I had imagined a while ago. I made a comment to a coworker about how it's not a big deal that I don't have access to MyFace at work because I've logged into it maybe five times in the last six months at work. My coworker raised an eyebrow and possibly snorted. So apparently those comments about how irritated I was that her browsing of naughty sites had caused IT to put up a firewall prohibiting me from MyFacing when I'm working hard at not working were only taken as partial humor. Must I explain everything?

What to Do When You Are Fatally Ill.

I'm fatally ill again. It started with really annoying sinus headaches and swollen glands and has progressed to a cough and the waining of life from my limbs. I've been forced to my bed. It's very tragic. I think I managed to share a sufficient amount of my germs all around work before I went home today, though, so no worries. I'm a giver like that.

So I need to make a "to do" list to keep me occupied since getting up from my bed is very exhausting.

1. Watch Mamma Mia at least 5 times. Because I can. And if you think that sounds gross there is something wrong with you.
2. Watch at least one season of Law and Order: SVU. Because this is what you do when you are sick. Duh.
3. Eat my cool mint oreos. Those will nutrify me and make me all better.
4. Drink lots of herbal tea.
5. Sleep in my cozy, cozy bed with my flannel sheets.
6. Have weird dreams. I know they are coming. They will be about work, and about babies, and about Dancing Queens.
7. Take lots of Tylenol Sinus. It's that or lots and lots of head pain. I choose door A.
8. Take a veeeeeeeeeeery long shower. Possibly every few hours. Because the steam and hot water on my head will help relieve the sinus pressure. Stupid sinuses. I'm also going to rip them out of my head.
9. Drink lots and lots and lots of water. I hear that makes your body happy.
10. I hate ending on nine.
9.

It started as a Sweet Self Portrait

And ended with me in hysterics because Baby Girl is so stinking hysterical. She has the cutest little sense of humor! I didn't realize she was pulling faces until I pulled back the camera to look at the little preview window. Let's just say there are about thirty of these.

I Just Wanted to Say...

That I love you.

What a four year old says when at a loss for words. Because she hearts me. Aw.

Feeling Stressed?

This, my friends, is my therapy. I highly recommend getting some of your own.

What I Did on My First Vacation

Well, not my first vacation ever, but my first vacation that is paid for my new job. Here are some of the highlights:
Alice and the Mad Hatter had a baby! I have affectionately been calling her Squeakers because she makes all the cute little newborn squeaks. She might get a different blog name down the road, but who knows.

Her family kind of likes her. This is Jumping Bean's first time holding her, right after she came home from the hospital. Baby Girl is a big sister! And yes, she is still Baby Girl. Just like Little Man might possibly remain Little Man well into his senior years, when I am 100 and he is visiting his crazy Aunt Holliberry in the old people place, like a dutiful nephew.

Baby Girl might possibly have succeeded in beating me at pool, had she been exerting all her effort. Fortunately for me, she was more interested in the ball with the 4 on it, 4 currently being her favorite number. I was not to hit the 4 ball. She ensured this by kindly repositioning the cue ball for me each time it was my turn. I was kind enough to not hit the 4 ball, or many others, for that matter....

Alice is kinda smitten with Squeakers. She provides hours of fun. Our favorite thing to do is stare at her. And take pictures.

And I Quote:

"Which one of you is above 18?" ~~Skeezy man in the grocery store to me and the 17 year old I have with me. Ew. Ew. EW.

BABIES!!!

Alice and Mad Hatter are having a baby today! Yay for baby snuggles! If I can gain consent from the parents I will post pictures!

Also, I get to take vacation days. To go snuggle the baby. Good week!

I Done Got Me a Car (and a Diet)

So I'm sure you noticed this on your own calendar, but Saturday was Daddy/Daughter bonding day. For my special daddy/daughter event, we went car shopping. Because the stupid-head collission repair center totalled my car. I ended up getting a car which I am quite pleased with, for a payment that might allow me to still purchase groceries every other month. But that wasn't the fun part.

At the first place we pulled into, we parked the car and walked up to the little building (picture seedy looking used car lot), and this youngish guy wandered out and said something disinterested like "so I guess you've done some research and you probably know what you want?" I believe my father was holding piece of paper in his hands. So, you know, he was deducing and all. Then we told him the car we wanted to look at, and he was like, oh, that's not here. That's on our other lot. "But it was listed online as being at this address," my father pointed out. *Blank stare*. Oooooookay. Well, um, thanks.

At the second place we looked (the other lot--also seedy), we parked and walked towards the little building. A young man and woman in jeans and t-shirts, enjoying a smoke, stood there. As we approached, they were like, "hey." After a moment, they extinguished their cigarettes. At some point they asked us if we were looking for a car. And then informed us the one we were looking for was on another lot. And showed us the crappiest used car, that wreeked of cigarette smoke (blank stare from the woman when I pointed this out..."I haven't been in that one.") and I'm pretty sure the holes in the upholstery were from cigarette burns.

At the third place we looked at (an actual dealership), there were five or six salesmen just standing around when we got there. They all kind of looked at each other, and quite possibly did rock paper scissors, and then one came our way. The one with the cowboy heels with clacky heels. Seriously? Cliche much? He was all humble, gorsh, let's see what we might have on this here lot. And then he wandered around like he'd never seen the cars before. And then he looked for a car that I'm pretty sure didn't actually ever exist while he pointed out other cars far above the mileage and price point I had specified. And then we got in a car and drove down the street to the other lots they owned. We got out, looked around, he scratched his head some more, and then we went back to the first lot. And he scratched his head some more. And he showed me a car that was out of my price range, too high in mileage, and crappy. And THEN (and I swear he was trying to create the appearance of working really hard for us to produce this magical car by going through all the aforementioned motions), he showed me a cheaply made car, with no bells and whistles, that was about 4,000 abovie my price point, and had 97,000 miles on it. Yeah, I did not feel saved. I think that's what he was going for. He ran inside to "ask what price he could knock it down to," while my dad half-heartedly looked at the car and discussed leaving. He emerged to introduce his associate, who was taking over because he "had a phone call." Associate proceeded to inform us that he was from Brooklyn, where they talk straight. And then he babbled about the pro's of the car, including the fact that there were screws you could loosen all by yourself to change the headlights. They shore do have some straight talk in Brooklyn.

Once we escaped there we went to a whole other county and found an unslimey salesperson who looked like they had not had their will to live sucked out of them, and we got me a car. And that, my friends, is how I plan to lose weight.

Important Community Resources

So I was watching The Soup with Joel McHale, a Seattlite, and naturally this led me to think about sex offender registry search web sites. You know, because he was talking about those creepy pageants that deranged mothers put their five year old daughters in where they dress them up like divorcees from the 80's and put more makeup on them than I think I've worn in my life and teach them to pose like grown women lookin' for a date in a seedy bar. And I wondered to myself, self, do they have a search engine for my area? And the answer is yes. You should look in your county and see if you have this kind of resource.

There are three creepy men living in my neighborhood. I know that I would recognize them if I saw them because I saw their pictures and they are clearly creepy. So my advice to you, besides to look up the registry in your area, is to look for creepy men. Those are the ones to watch out for.

But seriously, folks. How cool is it that you can get email alerts? I'm not one to get all paranoid and wrap my kids in bubble wrap before I let them ride their bike or something (these are my imaginary kids, Phoebe and Luke, naturally-- I call Pheobe Phebes for short), but with all the crazy things going on in the world today it's kind of nice that you can be a little more aware of who your neighbors are. Or is it? Is it better not to be reminded of creepy men constantly, given the number of kids that grow up without encountering them at close range? I know what I think, but what do you think?

The Benefits of MyFace

I'm telling you... hours of fun:

Call the Nestle Hotline at 1-800-295-0051. When asked if you want to continue in English or Spanish, wait quietly for about 10 seconds and I PROMISE you will smile. Keep going and press 4. Then press 7.

Tweet Yourself.

So as if it wasn't bad enough that conversation hearts say things like "email me" and "text me." This year they say "tweet me." Where's the "update your relationship status" one?

PS: MyFace may be blocked at work, but blogger isn't. HA! I will use my time inefficietly yet, The Man!

I got one of those answer the list of question emails,and most of the questions were lame. So I'm only including the ones I feel like answering. Because you don't care what color my socks are.

3. What are you listening to right now? Lean on Me. For the tenth time. In the last hour. Don’t judge. It’s been a long day.
4. What was the last thing that you ate? pastry. Because I'm eating my feelings.
5. Can you drive a stick shift? Nope. Don't you feel that you have failed me by not teaching me that?
6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My new favorite coworker, to tell her I hate her because she got a song stuck in my head. I don't have a blog name for her. It is yet to come. No fear, it will. It might possibly be SingingGirl. Because she's always getting songs in my head. You wish you could be as creative as me.
8. How old are you today? Um, hi, innernets, I am not telling you.
9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV? Football or bowling. This is not including wii sports, right? Because I enjoy watching Little Man playing archery. he enjoyed shooting the arrows into... the dirt... the castle far off... the canyon....
10. What is your favorite drink? Fresh lemonade! Make me some!
12. Favorite food? Depends on the mood-- chocolate, steak, lima beans, seafood....
13. What is the last movie you watched? Emma (the new Masterpiece Theatre--2008). FABULOUS. Highly recommend it!
14. Favorite day of the year? Christmas!
15. How do you vent anger? Cleaning and running
16. What was your favorite toy as a child? Sandbox or bike
17. What is your favorite season? Whatever is currently the season
18. Cherries or Blueberries? Blueberries
19. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? Always!
20. Who is the most likely to respond? No one! Slackers!
23. When was the last time you cried? When I found out my car was totalled. Stupid crappy drivers.
24. What is on the floor of your closet? Many things.
25. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending to? Alice
26. What did you do last night? Sulked over my totalled car.
27. What are you most afraid of? Heights? Ugly shoes?
28. Plain, cheese, or spicy hamburgers? CHEESE! with lactaid :D
29. Favorite dog breed? Mutt
30. Favorite day of the week? Friday
31. How many states have you lived in? Two
32. Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds. Duh.
33. What are your favorite flowers? Roses or ones that smell pretty, or ones that look pretty, or ones people give me. Why don't you give me flowers? What is wrong with you?

Garbagaholics live near me.

Dear Neighbors,

What is with the throwing perfectly good things away? Have you people never heard of Good Will, DI or the myriad other thrift stores that will take your junk. Because your trash could be someone else treasure, people. It's all about being green, and you are not being green. Bad!

Observing the perfectly good things I've seen left in or by the dumpster for disposal has caused me to think. I have started to think even more about the easy, obvious things we can do to not only be Green, but to save money, which I know is a high motivation factor for many people right now.

I've spent some time researching places online with good green ideas, and I loved this website. They pointed out that buying fresh food and cooking yummy recipes at home is actually being green, because fresh food involves less packaging than processed food. Also I think generally it's healthier to eat fresh. And I hear a rumor it can cost less. Also changing out your bulbs for the low-energy fluorescent bulbs is supposed to save energy and your money! Score! We had our local energy company come through our apartments a year ago and give us FREE bulbs for all our light fixtures. I do not believe any of them have burnt out yet. These are not your mamma's fluorescent bulbs. They are a lovely, warm fluorescent bulb. They are nice and bright and cheery. Also, did you know you can harvest rain water to water your garden? We've had a few drops of rain this winter... think of the water we could capture, and deduct from our water bill! You know, for our huge garden that we have.

In conclusion, neighbors, stop putting perfectly good furniture by the dumpster. Drive it to the freaking thrift store.

Am I Really Old Enough to be Retrospecting?

I recently went to a High School graduation ceremony, and by recently I mean last June. This, my friends, is what happens when you draft things when you are unemployed. You get distracted by the business of watching infomercials and the brilliant posts you compose fall by the wayside. But never fear, my blogger-block has inspired me to dig it out. Anywho, when at this commencement ceremony, it caused me to look back over the years, and count, and realize it's been over a decade since my High School graduation (in fact it's almost a decade since I graduated from college), and freak out, and then reflect.

First, it made me reflect on how our society is deteriorating rapidly and some people should not be allowed out in public. To the people sitting around us: maybe you've never been to a graduation before (see what I did there? I've been holding that in for a week), but when they play Pomp and Circumstance, you are supposed to STAND. From the first graduate to the last graduate. You will not die from all of that standing. Also, just because your particular graduate apparently made it there by the skin of their teeth and is not part of the band or choir, or one of the speakers, does not entitle you to talk LOUDLY during the choir and band performances, and over the poor valedictorian who worked so hard to prepare a speech. It was his moment. He's going off to college, where he most likely won't be known by all, and ranked the smartest. And you totally just disrespected him. Shame on you, people behind me. And ANOTHER thing. When the master of ceremonies reminds us SIX TIMES that you should not use air horns, that means that you SHOULD NOT. Nor should you hand it to your teenager, and have them do it. There's this thing your supposed to be doing--parenting. You know, where you teach your kids that breaking the rules placed there in respect to those eager to hear their name read, a moment they have dreamed about for years, is jacked up. Way to go parents. You have perpetuated the tradition of idiots at graduation. Your children will follow in your footsteps.

Second, the valedictorian's speech caused me to reflect. He did what I think is common at this point in your education career. He talked about teachers who had helped shape him at his high school, and why they are so great. I really did love that he did this. It was obvious that these teachers were loved by many from the crowd reaction when he dropped their names. I can think of teachers at my high school that got this recognition at assemblies and during other gatherings such as graduation. I automatically think of my teacher, Mr Vinson, who was my favorite teacher in Junior High School. He was my teacher who made me want to be the best in a classroom for the first time since elementary school, and he showed us how to have fun while applying ourselves. He always got the cheers at school gatherings. I think of my choir teacher, Mr. T (he probably pities the fool, but it's not that Mr. T) who was one of the best high school choir teachers out there. Even though I'm pretty sure he didn't like me very much (he once yelled at me for looking at my nails too much while we practiced in front of the whole class--a nervous habit I had at the time, and possibly still do. But he was right. I'm sure I was annoying). Those are two teachers who I'm sure have gotten lots of shouts-out throughout the years. As an adult who now works with teenagers, I think of them both a lot, especially Mr. Vinson. Working with teenagers is a hard job. Even if you know you have to be the bad guy sometimes, since you are in a position of authority, and have to think about their safety and well-being, you still want them to like you. It's sad when they don't. I sometimes question if I"m asserting my authority correctly, or if I'm coming across more like Mr. Fill-in-the-Name, who always made me wonder why he taught since he seemed to hate teenagers. In reality, and in retrospect, I don't think he did hate teenagers. He just didn't put up with some of our adolescent antics, among other things. And sometimes I am that adult.

In retrospect, having been in the position where you care about these sweet little teenagers, and watch them grow and change and become adults, I wish I had shown more gratitude to my teachers. Certain teachers knew I appreciated them. But I never was that kid who brought the card on teacher appreciation day. And as an adult, I realize how hard it is to tell sometimes how much you are impacting their lives. I have teenagers who seem to like me, but I do not generally even factor in when they think about the things they will miss when they go to college, along with most other adults who have impacted them deeply for years. Lately I've had some sweet girls who are more vocal about their appreciation for me. When they all chime in and tell me they love me, or that I'm funny, or they include me in a conversation about the boy they like or the dress they're getting for prom, or they "friend" me on MyFace, I'm always a little surprised. And I think that maybe, just maybe, someday I'll be cool. I just need to go look up krunk on urbandictionary.com. Because I seriously don't know what it means. And I've got to be old if I don't even have a guess what the slang means, right?

If I Were Rich

Lately I have made the statement "if I were rich I would..." quite a few times. I think I have brilliant ideas of what to do with money. Somebody should give me a lot, and then I will spend it for them. Because, if I were rich, I would:

1. Buy a house where one room was dedicated entirely to being a library. There would be a fireplace to keep it toasty in the winter. There would be big windows to let in lots of light, and it would look out on a naturey view. By naturey I mean green. Dirt is not nature. It's dirt. And it would be covered from wall to wall with books. Good books. Some of them with really pretty binding, and some of them falling apart because they are so good they get read that much. There would be multiple editions of Austen books. Because I already own multiple editions. As should you.

2. fly to fun destinations for vacation. Often those destinations would be decided by the great book I have just read. Because I can go walk in the footsteps of the characters. Or in the case of nonfiction, I could continue the learning fun. Also, movies that make me want to go places would help me plan vacations. And I could watch that movie ON THE FLIGHT THERE.

3. Have a closet for my purses. Because I want to buy lots of pretty purses. I blame this on Dizzle. She keeps sending me links. She's the devil.

4. Have lots of shoes, preferably ones that don't try to eat my foot like the ones I wore today. Also, I would surgically alter my feet to be the same size. I don't recall this being an issue, but recently my left shoe has been roomier than my right shoe. I think my left foot is shrinking. Also, as a result of trying to keep an even stride and not lose my left shoe, I think my left calf is larger than my right. Sexy.

5. Have my own little pottery studio. Because I like pottery.The end.

You'll notice I didn't put anything of a philanthropic nature on my list. This is because my heart is three sizes too small. Also, because um, duh, I can find some "causes" to support, but if you don't know what they are, most likely we have not met and also you have not read my blog. But mostly because I'm petty and self-centered.

Best. Tax. Return. Ever.

So it turns out that being mind-bogglingly poor (watching the W-2's and unemployment report roll in only confirmed that it's miraculous I'm not homeless after last year) yielded my highest ever tax return. Truly miraculous considering I didn't withhold anything from my unemployment. Crazy not to withhold, you say? Um, not so much when you consider that I got pretty much the lowest amount allowed for unemployment payments. I really should have lost more weight last year, I tell ya.

What am I doing with all that money, you ask? Paying off bills. Woohoo! All you flat screen TV and juicer buyin' fools enjoy your toys. I'm going to try to lower my anxiety and feel less poor. Only time will tell if I regret not buying a whole new set of shoes. Instead of the one or two pairs I fully intend to buy... they're a necessity, I tell you!

For the Love.

My new phrase. For crying out loud has served me well, and is certainly a part of my collection of phrases to exclaim in exasperation. But For the Love is also fabulous, and I shall use it. Like today, when the fax machine kept trying to feed all three pages at the same time. For. The. Love.

Obviously this phrase is reserved for only the truly frustrating situations one encounters in life. Like the fax machine. Or the fact that I could not for the life of me get my white out container open. Or the fact that all my shows are on hiatus because of the blasted olympics. Or the fact that I have to do laundry again, even though I JUST DID LAUNDRY. OR my apparent inability to think of anything to post about.

Say Goodbye to Seattle

So hopefully no one outside of Seattle has been subjected to this song that is supposed to be like our new theme song or something. You should listen, just to be horrified, but just be warned, you will be horrified. And if you are not, you're weirding me out a little. I will give you that the drawings are cute, but I don't think this is the "official" video.



I reject this song. Do we even have manta rays in Seattle?

At least the following song involves montages with men in flannels:


Mind you, just looking at the flora and fauna in the video I'm willing to bet it was filmed in California, but it still is less repugnant than the stupid manta ray song.

I've been trying to figure out what our song would sound like. I personally believe it should be mellow (and that first song causes me too much nausea to be "mellow.") and have at least a little bit of a grunge sound at it's root. All I know is, dude should not have been allowed to publish that song. He's not our rep. In no way could this song be the soundtrack to your day in downtown Seattle. Someone needs to make this boy stop.

Haiti

I can't stop thinking about Haiti. Did you catch the Hope for Haiti benefit Friday night? I thought they did it real classy-like. They didn't really even announce the stars, or credit them on-screen. They totally kept the focus on Haiti. And I hope the millions of dollars they raised helped. My heart goes out to that poor family. I hope if there are people buried alive they are found soon. Such a nightmare. Let's pray for them all.

Here's a few of my favorites: