Holliberry News Update

If you haven't talked to me lately, here's a few updates:

1. I bought a computer. It's a Dell. It's being shipped to me.
2. I went to my first Torchlight Parade in Seattle. I will post pictures after my new computer gets here and I can download the ten million pictures on my memory card.
3. My memory card on my camera is full. I have not taken any off for a long time, since my computer died and all. I have pictures of cute nieces and nephews, other family members, the parade, day camp, a camping trip with Alice and the wee little ones (although they are trying to be not little. It's quite aggravating).
4. I ran a week of day camp. You know, for recreation, since I took vacation to do it. I might post some pictures from that, too. We'll see how good you are.
5. I have reread six of the seven Harry Potter books this summer. Living alone is quiet. I'm just saying.

Other Things I Love

In addition to gnomes, I've developed a sudden fixation on unicorns. They make me happy. I feel like I should own one. Since there are no actual unicorns for sale in my geographical area, I have been scouting the web. Turns out that while unicorns strike my fancy in theory, there are a lot of ugly, creepy unicorns out there. I'm telling you. Go to Amazon or Etsy, and you will see what i mean. I do enjoy the print on etsy I found that says "Shut it or I'll stab you with my norwhal." I'm seriously contemplating getting this one for my home.I feel like this would add the little morsel of homeyness that I haven't quite capture yet in my apartment. This print could be the clincher. And don't steal my idea. I don't want to walk into your house and find that you have the EXACT SAME PRINT hanging over your couch. I will have to go all ninja on you if you do. You have been duly warned.

But seriously, why can't I find anything more than moderately cute. Like these erasers...

Kind of cute. A little creepy.

I do, however, need these:

I have marked them on my wishlist on Amazon for your convenience. Along with this:

Just so you know, I draw the line here:

This, my friends, is creeeepy. And you may not buy it for me.

Blue.

I'm blue. Just found out that someone who once called me her best friend just had a huge life event, and this is the first I'm hearing about it.

So what do do when you're blue?

Well, you know how I like a good list. So of course I will make a list:

1. make a list of things to do when I'm blue. Because I find comfort in lists.
2. watch Dirty Dancing. Because nobody puts Baby in a corner.
3. Impulse shop. Because what can be better than retail therapy. I'm suddenly obsessed with unicorns. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately for my bank account) I can't find any good unicorn stuff to buy. Unicorns make me happy, but not ugly unicorns. Which seems to be the only thing people want to sell. Ugly, scary unicorns.
4. eat ice cream. Even though I am lactose intolerant, and it will make my intestine's scream at me later. And of course don't take any lactaid, because that involves getting off the couch. Even though I got off the couch to get the ice cream. I'm doing good here, I say.
5. put books on my "later" list at the library.

2011 Resolutions

I feel it is time to post some resolutions. Last year I had some very good ones. Don't ask me what they were, or whether I made any progress. I do remember that they were quite impressive and I was very proud of them. I felt very good about the direction I was taking. No clue if that direction got took. This year, we're going short and sweet. At least, for my blog goals. As last year, you don't get to see them all. Because, frankly, I've heard you are a big blabber mouth and I don't need you telling everyone.

1. Read at least a book a week.

2. Shop on the outer perimeters of the grocery store, where fresh things lie. That is not to say there will not still be eggos in my freezer.

3. Remember my friends' birthdays with (at least) a card (on time!), and shop for family birthdays at least a week in advance.

4. Get my neck fixed. This means I have to go to the danged chiropractor.

Welp. I'm stumped. I end at four.

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.

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.

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.

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*

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.

A Day in the Life of Holliberry

I feel like I'm failing somewhere here.

This was the conversation last night in my apartment.

K: Ooh, who's this?
Holliberry: Huh?
K: Oh, this guy just friended me. He's kinda cute.
Holliberry: You don't know him?
K: No. Ew, he's kinda old. Graduated in '81. I was... three. Nasty.
Holliberry: Hm. Hey, you should read my blog. I really feel strongly about this one and I think it's so long that no one read it. (Insert your name here) made a comment the other day that confirmed she hadn't. (because, let's face it, none of my guy friends read this blog--not that I'm bitter)
K: Ewwwww. He's a body builder.
Holliberry: Are you still looking at him?
K: Yeah, I accepted his friend request.
Holliberry: Oooookay.
K: Ugh. He posted (something about how he loves his car). Dork
Holliberry: So maybe instead of cyber stalking you should read my blog.
K: He's friends with so-and-so.
Holliberry: I tell you, I was witty and smart and stuff.
K: Mmm.
Holliberry: Also I really want you to read it. I think you would enjoy it.
K: (mutters)Freakin' nasty... (clicks on more pictures of Old Guy).

I don't know if I've mentioned this to y'all, but I really enjoy writing, and I take pleasure in it. Also, if you want me to admire your paper mache ducks you make as a hobby, I would. I would even put it on my desk at work with pride. Because that's what friends are for.

Not reading my blog is like the equivalent of not being excited about owning a piece of my pottery when I offer it to you. Except that while I may never give you a piece of pottery again if you look pained when I offer you one, I still will fully expect you to read my blog. Because if you have time to cyberstalk or do online gaming for three hours a day, you have time to read my deep thoughts. And don't think there won't be a pop quiz.

**In K's defense, she OCCASSIONALLY checks my blog without prompting. But I choose to be petty and whiney to illustrate a point.

Remember the First Day of School?

Because I don't. I have no recollection of how I felt about going to Kindergarten. I'm guessing I was probably excited, because I had gone with my mom to the school barbecue since my sisters were already in school. I do remember that I had the best Kindergarten teacher in the world, and that we had show-and-tell, and snack time, and bunnies. And we had painting easels. And cute little workbooks where we learned about letters and stuff. My most vivid memories involve sneaking the popcorn from snacktime of the floor and eating it when I thought no one was looking, since we ate snack sitting in a circle on the rug. I'm sure I was totally super sly. At least I wasn't that girl that picked her nose and ate her boogers. That was my neighbor. Not to name any names.

I Heart You, Moms, but...

I have a lot of love for all of you moms out there. I really do. And I will admit that I read some blogs by mommies. I don't read them because you are mommies, but because I like you, and if you have darn cute kids and talk about them, so be it.

But this reference to "Mommy bloggers". This I don't get. Since when is that particular group of bloggers entitled to a name? I want a name! Where's my group? And why is the Mommy blogger movement a thing? I supposed if I stop and think about it, a lot of my friends who have blogs seem to have established them to give updates on their families, and spend a lot of time focusing on their kids. This I get, because they spend a lot of time with the little whipper snappers. But, hey, didn't you tell me you are sooooo busy you don't even have time to email me unless it's a group email? When are you having time to follow mommy blogs? Don't worry, this is a rhetorical question, as I'm fairly certain none of those who have used that excuse on me read my blog.

And another thing. I just looked at the mommy blog places referenced in that article. One mentioned is this one. It looks like a lovely resource. In fact, there were quite a few little links on there about improving blogs that I found interesting. But I'm not a mommy, and I don't feel like inviting myself in. So why they gotta be like that? Why does it have to be about the moms? Why can't it be about being a woman? You could still post things about healthy kids, and healthy marriages, because those things apply to many women. But hey, healthy food (should) also apply to me too. What about me???? I'm going to go out and hunt me up a good resource for woman bloggers.... Hmm... and Google says... mommy and woman are interchangeable. Awesome. I'm going to go listen to my biological clock tick now.

Am I Wierd...

to be anti-mug? I don't like drinking water out of ceramic mugs. It tastes different. Also, I prefer to drink my beverages out of glass, but plastic is my second best option. A real bummer since we mostly have ceramic mugs at our house. I am not opposed to a hot steaming mug of hot chocolate, let the record show. Am I the only one that feels this way?

For Crying Out Loud

One of my roommates in college always used to say,"for crying out loud!" Perhaps partially to keep memories of her close to me since she's dropped off the freaking map (not bitter...) I say it all the time now. Here's a list of the wierd things I say because of friends/roommates, and why you are all fired.

• Okay, fine. (K- this is your fault and I've only recently started saying it.)


• Swee-pea. (I blame this on one of my college friend's mothers. Whose name also starts with a K. Hey, I'm seeing a pattern here.


• Your mom. (My sister, SusieQ)


• Ghetto. (Also my sister SusieQ, and mostly uttered to antagonize my older nephew.)


• Bummer- Actually, I don't know where I got that one. Maybe that's the one I'm trying to make stick in YOUR brain for the rest of your days. Or maybe it was IM.

Would You Buy Me a House?

... if you had a million dollars, that is?

I have several friends that right around my birthday every year tell me that it is slightly difficult to shop for me for my birthday. To which I say, are you on crack?

K has no problem with thinking of gifts for me because I'm greedy. Here are a few things she would buy for me (mind you these are mostly in her own words):

1. a bag of chips (Food Should Taste Good Multigrain Tortilla Chips, to be specific)

2. Chipotle gift card for a million dollars

3. a bookstore giftcard

4. a case of mac and cheese with barq's rootbeer on the side (I have no idea what she is talking about, and also why I am not losing weight...)

5. a Sephora gift card

6. pottery something...

7. cake

8. something from Pampered Chef (no worries, K, Carrie will hook you up!)

9. a bustier with some hot pink feathers please (don't ask me, this is K's list)

10. a computer that will play sims without video card issues

11. a new cell phone (but hey, why wait for my birthday?)

12. an avocado and a block of cheese

13. some high heels (the higher the better- and suprisingly, K was not the one who suggested high heels for the desert island)

14. a cookbook

15. plane tickets to go somewhere exciting

16. a book

17. something Muppets something. something.

18. Movies!

19. artwork to hang on our sad pathetic bare naked walls

20. Holli's own amazing photography artwork (don't laugh if you're reading this, I) framed

21. A lamp for my room

22. the perfect piece of pottery to give to my dad

23. another new cell phone for when I break the first one.

And that was only in the course of a five minute brainstorming session. And most of them were serious. The chips one was serious, not a joke. They bring me joy and make great nachos.

See how easy that was? Basically the message here is if you can't think of something to get me for a gift, obviously you have not brainstormed with K. Or been in my apartment. Or read my blog. Basically you are a terrible, horrible friend.

But seriously.

I've received a lot of gifts in my life. I've had 31 birthdays and 31 Christmases. Thinking back, there are certain gifts that stick out. Some examples, in no particular order:

1. The bowling ball, with shiney purple shoes and a carrying bag. How cool is that?

2. Muppets mugs. The Cutest Muppets Mugs. Ever. Still my favorite thing in my kitchen to drink from.

3. A plane ticket home from BYU to surprise my parents for Thanksgiving Freshman year. You may think you had the coolest college roommates ever, but you didn't. I did. It helped that there were five of them to pitch in.

4. A framed poster size picture of the Eiffel Tower I took when I was in Paris.



5. A homemade card made with love and sunshine. Because I work with the sweetest teenagers in the world.




6. A dump truck. Little Man picked it out himself. He wanted to share something that he liked with me. He is an exceptionally thoughtful boy.


7. A piece of artwork created specifically for me. Again, I work with such thoughtful kids! One of my teens made me a window for my office since I didn't have one, with a view of one of my favorite places I have traveled so far: Paris.

If you were closer not only would you note the Eiffel Tower, but also the little child with the balloon and walking with her mother, who is wearing a red beret and carrying a red purse, towards it. My kid (and by kid I mean 15 year old) whipped this up in 15 or 20 minutes.

The picture was double sided. The second side was a Parisian cafe, with the eiffel tower in the uper left corner. It's currently mostly covered by the curtain.

What do all of these things have in common? They were so stinking thoughtful, I can hardly stand it! In all of these cases, the person/people who gave the gift to me were so excited they could hardly stand it. They had become excited because they had thought about the gift, researched (in their own ways), come up with a plan, and presented it with fanfare. To me, that makes the best gift. A gift that was bought/made with thought, love, and care. And possibly a little bit of sneakiness. I like a well planned out surprise. I would not have asked for any of these things. When you ask me what I want, this is part of the reason I am resistant to giving you a list, even though my family gets one every year (my sisters often ignore my list and get me what they want, which is also totally cool). Really, isn't a person thinking about what would make you happy, and finding joy in your happiness a very cool thing? I think it is.

If You Were Stranded on a Desert Island

I have always thought questions that start with "if you were stranded on a desert island..." are slightly stupid. This might be partly owing to the fact that I am a detail person. If you give me a rule to follow, I will ask for clarification. You say that there is no eating in bed? What about if I'm sitting on my bed, and it is made? May I eat there? Is this a specific bed, or beds in general? What is the consequence if I break this rule? How will you monitor this? It's not that I'm a rule breaker, because I am generally a rule follower. But I need to know all the details so I can follow the rule properly. I'm not this anal in all situations. I think that this attention to detail springs mostly from supervising adults who are skilled at finding the loophole in everything. I need to know what the answers to the what-ifs are. Otherwise when that situation comes up, I turn all dumb, and get backed into the corner, and give a really stupid answer. And I don't like that feeling.

But I digress. My point is, if you ask what I would take with me if I were stranded on a desert island, I would have questions. To name a few:

1. If I knew I were going to be stranded, why would I get on the boat/plane that was going to strand me. Do I look that stupid?
2. Is there assurance I will be rescued, and if so, what kind of time period are we talking here? Would one novel hold me over, or would I need to take a library of books.
3. Would a library count as one item? It's not plural.
4. Am I alone, or is there anyone there with me? Like, say, a hot guy for eye candy that I want to look good for, or some mad skilled survivalist person who can build a raft out of dental floss and car tires, complete with rudder and sail.
5. Is there a certain number of things I can take with me?
6. Have I built a base tan in anticipation of being in the sun, or am I going to fry?
7. Is there food on this island? Like bananas, or wild boar?
8. Could my one thing be a satellite phone, or a chopper complete with pilot, or a yacht complete with captain?
9. There aren't going to end up being "others" on this island, are there?

Last week I polled a few friends who were asked what item I would take if stranded on a desert island. I got the following answers:
1. laptop
2. plane
3. high heels

I personally think the person who said plane knows me best. I mean, come on. If I had a plane I could run out for groceries and stuff when I got bored of being fanned with palm fronds by the hot guy I've been stranded with. A close second is the person who said heels. Because, hello. Hot guy. They could come in handy. Also you could squish bugs with them. But my computer? It holds practically no juice in the battery. I'm assuming that desert islands don't have wifi or electrical outlets. So, no, sillies, I wouldn't give the answer computer. Here are the ten things I would bring, if ten was the magic number, in order of importance.

1. Water, because sometimes desert islands don't have clean water sources.
2. Matches, a lighter, or at least steel wool and some batteries. Because I'm an amazing outdoors woman, yes, but I really don't want to do the whole creating friction to start a fire thing. I would be SO crabby by the time I got to eat.
3. Sunscreen. Because again, sunburn equals crabby. Also it damages your skin, and I'm determined not to have any more wrinkles than I have already accrued.
4. A good book. Or a library if I get to count that as one thing.
5. A chef. Because that would make it a total vacation, if I could have gourmet coconut and papaya roasted boar.
6. A friend to entertain me. Who wants to volunteer? (Keep in mind I have apparently placed you in importance below the chef, but that means that there would be a chef. So at least that sweetens the pot)
7. Sunglasses. I hate when the sun makes me squint. Like for instance this afternoon, coming out of church, the sun was out for at least a good twenty minutes, and it was totally bright. So disorienting.
8. Paper and pen set (see, a set is one thing) so I can write my own version of the Swiss Family Robinson in the form of my island memoirs. Mine will be SO much cooler because me and my buddy of mid-level importance will have a chef. And sunglasses. What could be better?
9. A yacht. For when I get bored of my island and want to move on to the next one. Also to house my movie theatre packed with all my favorite movies and TV shows on DVD.
10. My contact care kit so I'm not so blind I cannot see how hot my chef and/or the yacht crew are. Also so I can see if this island happens to have spiders or large bugs. But I prefer to think it would not.

Here's a question for you to ponder. What is my idea of the perfect gift? Email or comment what you think my idea of the perfect gift is, and also what your idea of the perfect gift is. Let's play the who knows Holliberry game.

I Will Heal, But There Will Be Scars.

This weekend I had a very traumatic experience. I would like for us all to take a moment in silence to observe the passing of... my phone. It kicked the bucket. Or it halfway did at least. I can half see who is calling. I cannot, however, see my texts, and this is tragic. Especially since some of my friends do not realize that their phone has a secondary purpose, after texting. You can talk into those things, kids! Even my mother texts me now.

I am feeling very very poor right now, so the first thing that happened when i crushed my phone was that I wanted to cry. I didn't quite cry, but I thought about it. I believe I may have gone through all the stages of grief. Let's see...

1. Denial: Maybe if I turn it off and let it rest for a while the screen will just heal.

2. Anger: Stupid phone. How can they not make a phone that can withstand a little bit of abuse? I paid enough money for it it shouldn't break this easy. Stupid T cell phone company.

3. Bargaining: Maybe I can return it. Even though I'm the one who damaged it. Now where is that receipt...

4. Depression: I'll never talk to my friends again. Phones are expensive. I'm so sad.

5. Acceptance: Fine, I'll go buy a cheap one. Which I hate. Until I find that it has some cute ringtones. And I am learning all kinds of helpful things from the manual. Like how to hold it up to your ear. I never knew that before. Also, "do not drop, knock, or shake the device. Rough handling can break internal circuit boards and fine mechanics."

Now they tell me.

Ahem.

I would like to announce that:

1. I filed my taxes last night. I think that might possibly have been the earliest I had ever filed taxes.

2. I have a cold and it might possibly make my nose fall off.

i'm gonna live forever. I'm gonna learn how to fly.

So apparently according to a little online test i found, I'm going to live until the ripe old age of 81. And if I could get my hiney to the gym, I could add like 6 or 7 years to that. It's all due to my devout mormon lifestyle, I think. I don't drink, I don't smoke, what do I do?

I do not wear my shirt quite so stylishly, either.

*Note: Maybe it's that my standards are high for dancing, or maybe it's that choreography has become more important to current bands, but does this not seem like the silliest performance ever? The "vogue" girls drive me crazy. K could tell you what dance they could be doing to that music. It's so danceable and they all just sit there and pose. I got news for you, buddy. You do not look cool.