My Cynical POV*

Hello Lovers!!!!

2008-12-10T13:19:00.001-06:00

After lots of thought, and a little research, I've decided it is time for a change.

I've MOVED!

Please join me at wordpress! www.mycynicalpov.wordpress.com

So, update your address links, and get your butts over to my new site! Looking forward to seeing you all.

xxxo

Hunter

2008-12-08T16:02:00.005-06:00

Just FYI--today is my ONE YEAR anniversary at this blog! Yay!! Hope you all enjoy this one...

People are constantly trying to set me up and marry me off. "I have a friend for you" "There's this really cute farmer I know" "My nephew is adorable" you get the picture. Here is a conversation that happened between a good friend of mine and me. She's older than me, has a family, and always hounds me about getting married and giving her some "grandbabies." Yeah, right. Anyway, she's got a guy in mind that she wants to set me up with. She's brought him up several times over the last month or two, but nothing has ever come to fruition--she brought him up again today. Here is our e-mail convo after her phone call to tell me that she was back on this lovely idea of hers. Enjoy:

From: Jamie Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:03 PMTo: MJ Subject: RE:
He’s not like, churchy, is he?

From: MJ Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:11 PMTo: Jamie Subject: RE:
Ok, no.

From: Jamie Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:16 PMTo: MJ Subject: RE:
I don’t date really churchy guys

From: MJ Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:22 PMTo: Jamie Subject: RE:
I have no indication he’s churchy. Chris is trying to find a photo of him to email me. She thinks she has one of him with a deer he shot??!?!?!?!!??!??!?**!! He could put food on the table. You’d never go hungry.

From: Jamie Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:23 PMTo: MJ Subject: RE:
OMG! He's a hunter? Like how often does he hunt? Every season? Like, blood on his clothes all the time, hunts? For Pete’s sake, what do you think I am?

From: MJ Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:25 PMTo: Jamie Subject: RE:
Well…..he could find you car keys and missing shoe for you. Don’t you date hunters now? Sheesh….what do you want, a pussy city boy?

From: Jamie Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:27 PMTo: MJSubject: RE:
Lol! I’m just saying. Hunting is one thing…being a crazy hunter guy is totally different. I mean, if he’s a "deer heads in every room of the house" kinda guy…. :S
From: MJ Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:30 PMTo: Jamie Subject: RE:
You can hang your panties from the antlers.

From: Jamie Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:30 PMTo: MJ Subject: RE:
There is something very, very wrong with you.

From: MJ Sent: Monday, December 01, 2008 3:32 PM To: Jamie Subject RE:
Ditto, Cabbagehead.

The Children Need Him More Than I Do.

2008-12-04T20:49:00.011-06:00

THIS IS ECUADOR:

THIS IS COLORADO:
THIS IS MY LOVELY STATE OF IOWA:
It is necessary to have a visual of those three places before I tell you this story.

My friend Danielle and I decided it would be best for both of our souls to go on a man-fast for a while. As you all know, my luck with man-fasting is very bad. I don't have much will power--which is why I always fail at being anorexic, never get out of bed early to exercise, and always finish the bottle of wine. When it comes to men, I am usually the same way. I had lots of faith in my ability to pull this off this time, though.

And I failed.

I went on a date tonight. With Zach. A cute 25 year old college graduate with what sounds like a decent job (and he travels a lot, like me), and a similar love for Thai food. We met at my favorite Thai restaurant tonight (even though it is in a shoddy part of town and my sister is convinced I am going to get shot every time I go there). Conversation was off to a good start, we perused the menu, he ordered the yellow curry duck and I had the pad thai--per my usual. We talked about our jobs, families, friends, goals, aspirations, his immunizations* etc. Great date? Right?

Here's the catch: Zach leaves Saturday to go back to Denver for work for two weeks. He comes home on the 20th and then is done working. He quit his job. So that he can leave in the beginning of January to go to ECUADOR* to teach ENGLISH to the CHILDREN for somewhere between SIX MONTHS AND A YEAR. Blast! Damn noble people, anyway. "Thanks for dinner and a great date, maybe I'll run into you in South America sometime???"

I'm not very good with geography, but I do know that Denver, Ecuador and my lovely spot in Iowa are not, well, very close at all.

My sister's first question: Why are you going on dates with men who are based in Denver and are moving to Ecuador next month?

She's brilliant.

Maybe the man-fast won't be so difficult after all--especially if all the men I am interested in are jet setting to South America for the rest of their lives.

Have I ever told you all how much I hate dating? Sometimes I think it might have been easier if I had been born into one of those families who believe in arranged marriage--set me up and send me off to get knocked up with my new husband and a flock of sheep as my dowry.

You gotta have friends....

2008-12-03T13:03:00.002-06:00

If you ever have a day that leaves you feeling like this:

I have decided the best solution is to call up your best friends. Although we live only 28 minutes from each other, we don't see each other as often as we should, so I was especially excited when these lovely ladies met me last night for dinner, and we had a blast--we laughed, caught up, shared disgust over the nasty sauce the waitress brought Danielle (seriously, sick), harassed Lucy about her newest boy, it was lovely. The photos below pretty much sum up my dear friends' personalities to a T--Lucy's changes depending on the topic of choice ( the closed mouth smirk was from when I started razzing her about the Iraqi war veteran who will *hopefully* become her husband soon; the excited one with her hands in the air came from our conversation about mud wrestling a cute boy in the rain--Lucy, not me; and the final one where she looks disgruntled came on as we decided that we had to get going. Danielle, true to form, is typically pretty excited, so that picture works, too!).

Seriously, I have great friends. And I love them. They know that. A girl finds only a few good girlfriends in her life, and I happen to be blessed with some of the best of them! XXXO

Dysfunctional Thanksgiving

2008-11-30T14:56:00.004-06:00

I won. I am the winner of Dysfunctional Thanksgiving—an offshoot of Dysfunctional Christmas—an event invented by my dear friend and some of her friends many years ago. This is the first year for Dysfunctional Thanksgiving, and I am the winner. What do you have to do to win? Have the most dysfunctional holiday possible with a lot of cookoo craziness with the family.

Here are the highlights of mine, and the reason I won:

-Lots and lots of wine. Like, lots of wine.
-One parent who is in the same house as me for 24 hours and doesn’t speak more than three sentences to me. Literally. I am not exaggerating.
-Going to the store with the other parent and breaking down sobbing due to other parent’s ridiculous behavior.
-Being scheduled to stay at sister’s until Sunday, and having to leave on Thursday evening after you slept off your afternoon buzz because you are so miserable.
-Letting cruel parent get the best of you to the point that you throw in the towel and go home—you win! You ruined my holiday, YOU WIN!!
-Answering your friend Kara’s phone call as soon as you get in the car and are pulling away from sister’s and continue to sob/choke/cry into the phone for the next 30 minutes.

When it comes down to it, I actually won. I won dysfunctional Thanksgiving, and I managed to salvage a great weekend and spent some quality time with some of my closest friends (love you guys), cleaned my house, put up Christmas decorations, and finished most of my Christmas shopping—I guess, all in all, it was a pretty decent weekend!

I'm a writing amateur...

2008-11-24T20:26:00.004-06:00

So occasionally, I dabble in a little bit of writing. Sometimes it's hopeful, sometimes it's even on the verge of happy, there is a little bit of comedy, and a nice chunk of Plath-esque writing in there. I don't often share much of it, but for lack of anything better to blog about today, I have decided to share the following piece with all of you. I wrote it about 8 months ago, then let it sit on my laptop for about six months, and have been tinkering around with it every so often now. I'm not sure I'm done with it, but I think it's ready enough to share...my only disclaimer--this one falls into the Plath-esque category! Enjoy...

Eleven Days.
The cool breeze of a fall evening danced through the champagne colored curtains lightly hanging across the open window--the glass, rippled with age, projected brilliant shapes across the Van Gogh print hanging on the white wall as the street light poured the only illumination in to the room. She looked at the shapes, twice distorted due to the tears nestled comfortably in her bright green eyes.

She continued to think about the events of the past eleven days. She sighed. And then she cracked a bottle of her favorite merlot; as the glass shook in her hand, she lifted it to her lips to take a drink. The warmth of the liquid soothed her throat, scratchy from the efforts of long nights of crying. She felt that sip line her soul, and once again, she was comforted…She sat there, wrapped beneath her shall, and tapped what was left of her bitten fingernails against the rim of glass.

She wondered how it had come to this. She's young--barely 23, a college graduate who works a mind-numbing job, and in the process pays her bills. She spends much of her time in the company of great friends, and occasionally a nice man comes into her life, only before slipping right back out, too soon. On paper, it didn't appear as though she really had anything to be depressed about--so why was she so blue? Hereditary--that’s what the doctors said--a disease that has plagued the women in her family for generations--obviously, it was more severe in her case.

She lightly ran her index finger along the uneven ridges of the eleven day old red-brown flaking scab which was evolving into a pink fleshy scar that would be forever tattooed along her fragile wrist… something like those Chinese symbols or stars that the other girls tattooed on themselves. Hers wasn’t nearly as trendy, but it was just as permanent.

After “they” agreed that she was stable, they handed her the bottle of pills --“take three pills once daily for depression.” She now twirled the bottle in her hand and listened to the melodic fall of each of the pills as they made their way around the inside surface of that plastic orange bottle.

She opened the child resistant cap and spilled them into the palm of her hand, one by one until the entire contents sat there in a small pile. Blue pills. Little blue pills. They were all she needed to accomplish what she had originally intended... At least she had a good drink to wash them down with…

I'll post something happier for you all to read at a later date. In response to my sister's question--no, no need to worry, this is FICTION! :)

DBA

2008-11-23T11:00:00.002-06:00

There is a little boy that I have gotten to know over the last year or so. He's a pretty cool little kid with a personality unrivaled by any other child...or adult...I have ever met. He has the biggest green-blue eyes that jump out from beneath his shaggy blonde hair and the sweetest little grin. This little guy, he's also quite the snuggler--a loving, sweet little boy. He loves superheros--Spiderman and Batman seem to be the two favorites. At times he can be rambunctious and loud, and he loves wrestling with his siblings. His name is Bowen, he is three and a half, and he inspires me every single day.

Bowen is the nephew of a dear friend of mine, and before I knew Bowen, I knew nothing of the disease he has been battling. Bowen has, since birth, been dealing with a rare blood disorder called Diamond Blackfan Anemia (DBA). I am no expert on the disease, in fact, my knowledge of it is quite cryptic, but I do know the basics--Bowen's body can't produce red blood cells. Like I said, this disease is extremely rare, it affects less than a thousand people in the entire world--little Bowen is one of them. He has been recieving blood transfusions since he was an infant, and now, his family hopes their next step will cure this little guy's disease.

The next step is a bone marrow transplant. His original transplant was supposed to happen last spring. There were complications with his blood which halted the procedure and led to this little guy being bound to a small backpack for four months that was feeding medicine into his body 24/7. It worked perfectly, and now he and his family are back in action--taking this next big step. His transplant is Tuesday--a gift from his big brother Ryder, who just turned 5. The whole family was at our house on Halloween night--I gave Bowen a big hug. As he climbed up on my lap, I rubbed his back and said "BoBo--your backpack is gone!!", and he said, "I know, now you can rub my back." Talk about something that'll make your heart melt.

I am asking all of you to keep Bowen and his family in your thoughts. If you pray, please pray for Bowen, if you know people who pray, ask them to do the same. Spread awareness on this disease that so many know so little about. Bowen has a long road ahead of him--one that I am sure he will face daily with those bright eyes and with the amazing resolve he has mustered in his short three and a half years. This child is truly a super hero--as is his big brother--who has been asked to do such an important thing, and to give such a great gift. These two young boys have been asked to perform big tasks, huge tasks, and they (and the rest of their family) continue on with steadfast determination, bravery and more courage than one would assume two little boys could have. They are remarkable little people, truly. May this week go as smoothly as is possible for Bowen, Ryder and their family. We're all cheering for you guys!!!! XXO

Check out these links for more info:

http://www.diamondblackfananemia.com/

http://www.dbafoundation.org/

http://www.dbaftravel.com/

I love blogging....

2008-11-21T16:22:00.007-06:00

So, Murphy decided to stay overnight. He slept on the couch, of course. And I thought the day was shot, again. Then, Dolce left me a sweet little gift which turned my day right around! I got a blog award--and that, my friends, makes me feel pretty stinkin' special! XXXO to you Dolce.

This blog award is given to sites that:

~ inspire you

~ make you smile and laugh

~ give amazing information

~ is a great read

~ have an amazing designand/or any other reasons you can think of that makes them uber amazing!

The rules of this award are: Put the logo on your blog or post. Nominate at least 5 blogs that for you are Uber Amazing! Let them know that they have received this Uber Amazing award by commenting on their blog. Share the love and link to this post and to the person you received your award from.

***I have to add one disclaimer--I am going to be sharing this award with my bloggy friends--to my real life friends, you already know how much I love you and love your blogs! There's no secret there! So, L, K, B, A, C, D--just know I love you, but this time, I'm spreading the wealth to the bloggy friends. :)

I love blogging. I love the blogging community of gals I have established--I have read so many stories of heartbreak, success, sadness, hopefulness--I just think the world of all my bloggy friends. I refer to you all as "My friend Sara, or my friend Amanda..." And, then, when I explain to my real life people that we are blog friends, they look at me a little bit like I'm crazy. But it's true, you all have become a lovely addition to my life. It's hard to choose just 5 of you to award, but I think I've narrowed it down. So, the 5 fabulously lovely bloggers I have chosen are:

Sara Jane: for the sake of her newly sought anonymity, I am not going to link this big sexy. She is my number one blog of the day--she writes it all--whether it's about her job, her latest boys, the friends, happiness, sadness, Sara's posts are always thoughtful, and always well written. xxxo. SJ and I would be friends in real life, we've already established that. *SJ, if you want me to link you, let me know, otherwise I'll respect your privacy! Ha! :)

Amanda: I love Amanda's blog. And she leaves the best comments. She can always make me smile, no matter the day. Her blogs are often humorous, and I love to hear of her every day adventures. Plus, I totally like her posting style--check it out--it's a unique change to your typical paragraph by paragraph blog. She's optomistic, and she always makes me smile.

Bayjb: I spent a lot of time in Chicago this fall, and every time I was there, she would comment about making sure I wore a jacket or told me about the expected forcast. Although we never met, unfortunately, I always feel like we're on the same page, especially when I am in Chicago! Plus, her stories are great. Awesome writer.

Auburn Cat: I love Auburn Cat's blog. She makes me laugh--mostly because the things that she gets "cranky" about are the same things I get cranky about. I think we get along that way. I think she and I would definitely get along--she's one who writes in a variety of styles--happy, sad, cynical, dorky, and can even make light of having a nasty case of kidney stones.

Kyla Bea:I always enjoy Kyla's tales of her pups and her married life. Kyla is always astounding me with her chic-domestic-ness. This married gal can make her own preserves and knit a scarf like no one's business--but she's still cool as all get out.

So, lovelies, I hope you all know that I love love love your blogs. XXXXXOOO

Anyone thinking that we should plan a weekend and fly somewhere centrally located and just hang out and tell stories and drink wine and hang out??? I kinda do...

Murphy

2008-11-20T10:11:00.003-06:00

I have a friend Murphy. Murphy Law. Occasionally Murphy decides to come and hang out. I don't know why, because I hate Murphy. He's not really a friend at all. Murphy decided to come and hang out this morning. Murphy Sucks.

Can anything else go wrong?

Is anyone else having a day like this?

Yes, please note, it's not even noon.

Sometimes, you just have to sit back and laugh about it!

gone

2008-11-18T20:47:00.002-06:00

I thought about him today. For the first time. In a long time. In fact, I can't remember the last time. And I don't know why he suddenly entered my mind. Someone might have mentioned his name--its a common name, that's possible.

I might have been thinking about the younger sibling and the fucked up path she is tying up her shoes to trek down again, even though last time she was bruised and broken at the end. I can't convince her to throw those laces away and I know she is getting in the same situation she was in before. I know the type of boy she is setting out for. He is the same boy that is going to leave her in the same situation that I was in with him...before. I want to push her down--break her legs so she can't make this jaunt again, but I can't.

It might be because tonight for dinner I decided to make something that he and I used to make...and maybe, with every bite he was slowly creeping his way back into my brain--my thoughts, my being.

I googled him. I looked him up on Facebook. I don't know where he lives now. I don't know his phone number or his current job or if his hairline has receded any farther than it was when I last saw him a couple of years ago--he was always self conscious of that.

I didn't find anything. There is a person out there with his same name who is a little more popular than him on google. He doesn't have the Facebook. And, thankfully, I can't remember his number--the one that I thought would never stop ringing in my head or in my heart.

I am surprised I thought of him and more surprised I decided to look him up. I am surprised because he was such a negative force in my life--in my everything. I'm surprised because it took me so long to get back to being me after I got rid of him.

I'm so glad I couldn't find him. I don't want to know where he is or what he is doing or how his life is going. I thought about him, and I am certain that is as far as that's going to go. He's gone for a reason, a really good reason.

Blog-Block

2008-11-18T14:14:00.002-06:00

I'm currently experiencing blog-block. I have nothing to blog about.

The one thing that I do have to blog about is currently a secret, so I can't blog about that yet.

I could blog about work--but you'd all be bored literally to tears, so we will skip that, too.

I could blog about my adorable niece, but you're all bored with that.

I could blog about the latest boy in my life...oh, wait?

I could blog about the really fast trip I am taking to Chicago this weekend for an event, but all the driving leaves me exhausted.

I could blog about the dark quote by Plath on finallyseeing.tumbler.com that I really really liked, but then you would all get the impression that I was dark and demented, so I'll leave that one out.

I could blog about how I wouldnt have to be blogging today because if I had participated in BlogSecret, my blog would have been automatic. And I wouldn't be sitting here with blog-block.

So, today, blog-block wins. Here's to hoping something exciting happens before tomorrow.

xxxxxo

Just Looking for a Good Time

2008-11-16T15:12:00.003-06:00

I'm a loser. I posted a post about everyone doing Blog Secret and then I failed to get my submission in on time. Ooops. It's been busy around here. One of my besties, Beth, had her sweet little baby girl Amelia, and on top of that I had a crazy weekend.

Friday I was convinced I was going to do nothing--I was convinced I was going to stay in and do some work while watching tv and cozying up to a bottle of red. As I stopped at the office to pick up my projects, I got a call from the roomie/bestie. She and her BF decided that we were going to go back to his place (a small town about an hour from here) and go out--we were going to pick up his friend in Des Moines along the way. Okay, why not.

Well, we end up at a bar called the Rusty Duck in this tiny tiny Iowa town of less than a thousand people (689 people according to the 2000 census--yes, I googled that shit). Anyway, this bar is great--within the first five minutes I had been introduced to like 10 people and hugged twice by two old ladies whom I had never met before who continued to tell me that I was "just a baby."

Sara and I started out drinking beer, but as the yawning came in to play, it was determined that vodka redbulls would bring on our second winds--and they did. And they kept flowing. For about 5 or 6 hours they kept flowing. And we weren't drinking slowly.

So, Roomie's BF's friend is hot. This I established earlier in the evening--it wasn't one of those beer goggle attractions.

We leave the bar at about 2 AM after 200 dollars worth of drinks/appetizers, and lots of karaoke including but not limited to: NKOTB The Right Stuff, Touch Myself, and Man I Feel Like a Woman--heavens no, I did not sing--we allowed Roomie's BF to do all the serenading. We make it back to Roomie's BF's house. Roomie falls off a stool at one point. We eat toast and ham sandwiches. We continue drinking. We decide it's time for bed. Roomie's BF has his bedroom and his extra bedroom. I crawl in to extra bedroom bed. Am followed by hottie friend. Have great mash session. Pass out.

Regale my sister with this story the next day--she says, "Do you think you'll ever see him again?" I say, "I doubt it, but have you heard that Lady Antebellum song--Just Looking for a Good Time?" She says, "Yes," I say, "I'm thinking that's how I'm going to live for a little while." She's silent. I say, "Do you think that's wrong?" She says, "A little disturbing, but no, not wrong."

I must have still been drunk when I told her this, because the truth is, that is so NOT how I plan on conducting myself. I need to stay away from the vodka. That little bastard steals my inhibitions every time I hang out with him.

But, I mean really I'm 23--I deserve a random mash session every once in a while, right??
:)

Blog Secret

2008-11-13T10:02:00.002-06:00

I know that some of us refrain from saying the things we want to say because we are afraid of what our readers will think. Well, a genius decided to organize Blog Secret--check out the website. You write whatever you want, and it gets posted on someone else's blog--completely anonymously.

Sounds like a grand idea to me! :) But hurry, you have to have your submission in by Saturday!

You've Got Mail

2008-11-12T08:34:00.003-06:00

And it went a little something like this....

At 9:19 PM yesterday Mr. Converse* wrote:

"Hi Jamie.

I hope your week is going well so far. I had a great time last Saturday. The drive home was less than pleasant but it was still good to see you.

That being said I need to mention something. My Ex from last summer called me on Sunday and asked for us to get together this week. From the sounds of it she'd like to try to get back together. I'm not sure if I want to right now but there may be that possibility. We're going to talk about it after the trial.

I think it would be disingenuous for me to say that I still don't harbor some feelings there. I don't know what's going to happen but if we decide to get back together I don't want to lead you on. I hope you understand but it's probably best that we curb the dating for now.

That being said I think you're amazing: beautiful eyes, a wonderful laugh and, frankly, a great kisser. I hope you don't resent me and I hope you've had a good couple dates. Who knows, maybe we'll see each other again.

Take care,
Mr. Converse*"

*Names have been changed to protect identity

Thank goodness for my lovely friends who talked me through the disappointment. Especially one of my besties who was/is in a hospital bed trying to have a baby (that there is friendship, my dears!)! Bleh. I am disappointed. It's a fact. As much as I tried to find the cons--as you all saw, I actually enjoyed his company and very much liked what I knew of him--converse shoes and all.

I suppose we should add one more con to the list: Still loves ex girlfriend.

But on the bright side, there will be a new little baby in my life at some point today!

2008-11-11T18:59:00.001-06:00

I am:

23.

single.

a thinker.

passionate.

afraid of commitment.

blessed with a great group of friends--you all are awesome.

fortunate to have some lovely family members.

stubborn.

suffering from wanderlust.

missing my best friends from college--real life sucks.

always up for a *large* glass of red.

currently obsessed with Pink, Sugarland, and Sara Barielles's new CDs.

confused.

usually reading a really sappy or depressing book. Paint it Black has been the latest read.

grateful.

a feminist.

so thrilled to watch Emerson grow into her own person--attitude and all.

liberal.

looking forward to the future and wishing it was easier for me to forget about the past.

excited for my next date with *him.* I think he's seriously cool.

an ice cream lover.

an absolute hater of the following: sour cream, cottage cheese, ranch dressing, mustard, bleu cheese, hangnails.

finicky about cheese--there are some things I enjoy it on (i.e. pizza, pasta) and other instances in which I hate it (i.e. on burgers, cheese soups, cheese and crackers, cheese dip).

always complaining that my feet are too hot.

addicted to Diet Coke--which leads to my dehydration and vitamin deficiency.

a hopeful cynic.

constantly searching.

Who are you?

Mr. Converse

2008-11-10T07:45:00.002-06:00

I have, to date, been on two dates with Mr. Converse (thanks E for coming up with the nickname!). Both dates have gone well. The first--sushi, the second--dinner and a movie (Role Models--hillarious, seriously, very funny) followed by hanging out with a couple friends at my place. Yes, I let him in my house. This is a big step--a big personal step. I don't know, there is just something about letting someone in to your space--to see more of you than the jeans, sweater, and red wool coat...it's intimidating. Anyway, he's fun, funny, handsome, sarcastic and the two of my friends that met him on Saturday approve.

My qualms about this situation:
* I hate dating in general. It's kind of a hassle.
* One day I am relationship ready, the next day, I think I changed my mind. The cycle continues. I'm a walking contradiction.
* He lives an hour from here--which is no big deal, but it's still something to consider. However, since gas here in the good ole IA is down to $1.79, I suppose I can afford to make the drive.
* He is 8 years older than me. Not a huge deal, but again, something to consider.

Positives:
*He is just as busy if not more busy with his job as I am with mine. Thus, no clingy must see you every night or talk to you on the phone four hours a day stuff.
*He makes me laugh.
*He's smart.
*He socialized with my friends, and it was a very enjoyable time.
*He wears converse tennis shoes.
*He is a democrat.

Oh, the trials of dating. I don't know. I suppose at this point I take it one date at a time and reevaluate. Have any of you been on dates lately? Do you have any helpful advice for this gal?

AM, to answer your question...yes *blushing*

would you?

2008-11-07T21:03:00.000-06:00

I am sitting here watching City of Angels--a movie I have not seen in years. Anyway it is now that I am reminded of why I fell in love with this movie in the first place--it is romantic and sweet and girly. I love meg too, and I think this is one of the first movies I cried at...oh nostalgia!!
Anyway, right now, as Nicholas Cage falls from grace I can't help but wonder--would you do it? Give up your heavenly existence for someone you believed you clicked with instantly? Someone you believed you loved? Without question?

I like to hope I would...

2008-11-06T19:47:00.003-06:00

I have the day off tomorrow! Whooohooo!! Let's get drunk and celebrate, right?? Yeah, no.

I took the day off to babysit the niece. No daycare. And I am totally stoked about it.

Even if she did throw a temper tantrum at the grocery store tonight which required my taking her out to the car while my sister finished up.

I, then, tried to get her out of her car seat when we got back to their house and she threw a fit. Whatevs dude--stay in that seat all night for all I care. Psh.

On the other hand, whenever she says, "Thank you Mamie, or here you go Mamie," She's totally forgiven. Little shit. It's amazing how they can be such punks one second and totally sweet the next second. I was cutting up potatoes and she handed me the new potato every time the last one was cut up. She's freaking adorable.

She's not feeling well, and the weather tomorrow is supposed to be extremely crappy, so I am thinking it's a good day for lounging around with the grey skies, movies, ice cream, jammies, and soda (don't tell her mom!).

On another note--there is possibly going to be another date this weekend. I think you guys would like him....he wears converse tennis shoes. I'm thinking he might be my 'type' though I am not sure I actually have one. I seriously think you all would approve. We'll see how the weekend goes! :) I'll certainly let you know what, if anything, happens!! xo

Wow.

2008-11-04T22:28:00.004-06:00

I am amazed by the showing tonight. People voted in record numbers.

I am so excited to see the change that is going to come with this new 44th president.

I am thrilled to see that, at this point, he is 333 to 155--that is quite the victory. This country craves change--this simply shows the urgency for change.

Let's be excited--and celebrate! It's a new beginning, to say the least! Obama 08!!!!!!!

:)

2008-11-03T21:17:00.003-06:00

So, the sushi was amazing. And so was the conversation. He's handsome. Salt and pepper hair (he's not that old), converse tennis shoes, great glasses. Pretty darned close to the best first date I have ever been on. Hopefully I will be seeing him again next weekend!

He ordered a bunch of random sushi, which, frankly, scared the hell out of me--as up until last night, I was pretty reserved about my choices in sushi. I have no idea what I ate last night, but I know it was amazing.

Anyway, we had dinner and talked until they were closing the place down at which time we decided we should probably should head out. I'll spare the boring details and let it be enough to say that the conversation was wonderful and I'm actually excited to see him again--and this doesn't happen all that often in my world! Lets be honest! :)

On another note, get your butts out tomorrow and VOTE!

It wasn't.

2008-11-02T12:45:00.004-06:00

It wasn't just coffee. It wasn't coffee at all. Because due to some communication errors, I accidentally stood him up. I know, right?? I basically fell over myself apologizing. It's a long, complicated story full of miscommunication. On the bright side, there are no hard feelings, and tonight, it is going to be sushi. And saki. And, fingers crossed, wondeful conversation. I will have a full report for all of you lovelies tomorrow morning! :) Lets just hope he's remembered daylight savings time and we don't end up missing each other again due to a stupid extra hour (that I so appreciated this morning) in our day.

On another note, I have to share with you the sweetest pictures I have ever seen--hijacked from my sister.

Little miss Emerson was the most adorable little witch you have ever seen this year for Halloween. Here are the pics to prove it!

She's blowing on the flowers

Walking through the park in the square

Holding her Emerson-sized pumpkin

Hanging with her candy

I love this one!

I know, adorable! I'll leave you with these and be back with a *hopefully* interesting, positive and uplifting post in the morning. And hopefully, it won't be one of those pitiful "this date sucked, and I can't believe I put myself through it" type of dates. Fingers crossed!

Is it?

2008-10-30T11:39:00.003-05:00

It's just coffee. Right?

I mean, I had three options to get to know the guy. It's a semi-blind occasion. I know what he looks like--we've never met. He has salt and pepper hair (which I think is hot--especially on a young guy), and wears glasses. So maybe this meeting isn't blind, just blurry.

Options: 1) coffee at a lovely establishment downtown; 2) casual stroll through one of the parks in the city (supposed to be good weather on Saturday--he'll bring the coffee); 3) Sunday night at a sushi bar.

Saturday is no good. Dear friend is getting married. Trucking over to the ceremony with some of the gals. Besides, parks=stalkers=death=body parts scattered throughout the underbrush.

Sunday...this could work. I like sushi. And I really like saki.

Coffee sounds most appealing, however. And this is the plan. To chat over endless amounts of late night coffee. Unless one of my besties goes in to labor at some point today, in which case I will spend tonight dressed as a tin-man wandering the streets with sweet little Dorothy in her red shoes filling our plastic pumpkins with cavity inducing substances.

I was freaking out to my sister on the phone. I don't like first dates. Especially first blurry dates. They make me nervous. She probably cursed at me and told me to chill out, and then tried to smooth my insanity by adding--it's not a date--it's just coffee.....right??

In any case, I'll keep you lovelies filled in ;)

*Sorry for the inconsistency with the blogging lately. I've been bad. But I've been so insanely busy around here that I truthfully just haven't had neither the brain energy, nor the creativity to do so. But, it feels good to be back!

Unreal.

2008-10-25T21:51:00.003-05:00

This is not my normal kind of post...

Last night on my way back into the city in the midst of a downpour, I was struck by something--this flashing board above the interstate--orange lights forming words that made my heart sink into my lap. They said something like "Amber Alert...White 94 Suburban..." etc. etc. The entire time I have been in this great city of Chicago I have felt safe--like nothing could phase me. I forgot about the fact that sometimes people become dangerous--that you have to be cautious--that a simple act could change your life. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to go home--to my own house, to my own bed.

Seeing that board really made me think. About how fragile life is. About how easily it could be turned upside down. About how quickly someone could come in to your life, stick your loved one in a white suburban and terrorize the hell out of you and your family. Where is this child, and who the hell took him? Is he scared? Where are they? How could they have gotten away?

This morning, I was talking to my little niece on the phone--which is hardly your normal conversation--she says hello, and I ask her to tell me what a handful of animals say. She's only 18 months, I mean, the conversation is better than one would expect from an 18 month old. She's absolutely adorable and can make my day--I love when my sister hands her the phone.

I thought about that. And then I thought about the child--the boards above the interstates are still flashing with that liscense plate number...I thought about how that little child is someone's niece or nephew--someone else's child--someone else's "light" in their day.

Lets hope that that little child makes it's way home soon.

**turns out that the little boy that was abducted is actually Jennifer Hudson's nephew. Her mother and brother were shot and killed on Friday, and after that her nephew was taken. Let's hope that the young boy is returned home safely. The news is saying they have nothing--that the little boy, Julian, is still missing.

yawn

2008-10-22T23:22:00.002-05:00

I'm alive! I'm alive! I swear, I am still alive. (Only by good luck, however--driving in this city is a freaking adventure and I have been --><-- that close to being killed/killing about eleventy-billion times).

Sorry I have been MIA this week. My Chicago schedule is totally kicking my ass. I will be getting back to being a faithful blogger/commenter very soon--promise.

For now, I am going to have to lie down and watch a few seconds of SATC as the eyes, well, they are finding it quite difficult to remain open.

My life is crazy.

2008-10-18T15:01:00.003-05:00

I remember once, as a youngin', walking through the airport with my older sister and looking at a man in a business suit with his briefcase waiting for his plane. I remember saying to her, I want that guys job when I grow up. Because I thought the travel seemed terribly exciting, and interesting--something fun, and new.

Well, friends, I got the travel part. And typically, I do love it, but as I enter what is like the 7th straight week of travel, I am feeling tired. I've been ill, and the pace is hitting me hard! Last weekend, I was in Minneapolis, I was home for a few days, and then out to Chicago. Got home yesterday. Today, I blog to you all as an office drone from the confines of this windowless office as I pack and re-pack to fly out to Chi-town yet again tomorrow. I spend about 8 days out between Chicago and Milwaukee, and then, next Monday, come home again. I think I am home most of that week, back in IL the week after that, and then the week after that it sounds like I am heading back to Phoenix for several days. Phew. Overall, though, it's really fun to get to explore all of these new places--to find new stores, restaurants, and figure out what highways connect to which interstate and where. I do, I must say, have a pretty sweet job.

And I know that tomorrow, as soon as I land in that windy city, all of my negative energy will disappear as I will be back at it again and cruising through the city in a *hopefully* sweet rental.
I really hope I have enough change for the tolls this time. I'm serious--they are going to arrest me sometime soon. And, E, I will definitely be trying out the restaurant you recommended this week.

To prepare for a long week, I am going to be heading home after I get finished up here and snuggling up on my couch with lots of blankets (we have yet to turn on the heat), a bottle of wine, lots of food, and a couple good movies. Ahhh, the perfect afternoon on a brisk fall day. I am hoping that while I am gone my lovely colleagues will finish off this pumpkin full of chocolate that I have sitting on my desk. I certainly don't need it. And yes, this means you, too, oh pregnant one with high blood sugar--how much can that baby gain in his last two weeks in utero? :)

Ok, don't let me forget to blog about the other gender sometime soon--I have a situation I need to confront and I'm too freakin' chicken to do it! Enjoy the Saturday lovelies! xo

Love, Love, Love

2008-10-15T09:56:00.005-05:00

I love kind of a lot of things today. More things than normal.

I love that it's raining. It's so fall. And it's kinda cold outside--perfect scarf weather. The leaves are gorgeous--red and orange and yellow. I love fall.

I love that Gail has been making tea every day for everyone at work. Again, one of those things that makes me think fall.

I love my new herringbone tights. And I love that when I busted them open this morning, I found out that I actually got two pair, not just one. That was exciting. I love that I am wearing them with my new dress, which I also love. I don't know--something about dresses and tights just really make me happy.

I love this song by OAR, and you will too.

I love that I got to talk to Emerson this morning before I even got out of bed. She's smart, people. She counts and talks and is just awesome, especially for someone so little. Oh, I got to talk to Autumn, too. Subsequently, I was late for work, but I think it was worth it.

I love the Diet Coke I just found realizing I left in the fridge weeks ago.

I love that I am back off to Chi-town tomorrow...I gotta get an oil change--I'm actually taking Eugene (my car--he's quirky and kinda nerdy--a lot like me) this time!

And, of course, dear bloggy friends, I love you.

lost in translation

2008-10-10T08:07:00.000-05:00

I don't believe I should ever have to do maintenence on a rental. I don't want to worry about the damn thing which is why I rent in the first place. Thus when the tire pressure light came on this week it really made my blood boil. I ignored it. Now on my way home this morning I noticed the car pulling a little to the right. Shit.

I pull off the interstate to the first station I see. I find the air hose and take it to my visibly low tire and its not working. Shit.

Then he walks out of the station. He is "the sprinkler guy."

He says "that thing working?"
I say "doesn't seem to be" translated: shit no its not working--can u not see me kicking this air machine with my very pointy toed boot?
He says "need some help"
I say "um...sure" trans: shit yeah!!
He says "I just happen to have a very large air compressor over here. I can help you out."
I say "that would be so great." Trans:your eyes are so pretty...icy blue. Yum.
I pull my car over by his truck and can't help but realize how tan and rugged this guy is.
He says "I don't have a guage but this looks pretty close"
I say "thank u sooo much--u saved me!" Trans:I do have a guage and it says you're hot.

So now I am heading home on a lovely little high from the sprinkler guy. Yes I am blogging and driving. How is that for highly irresponsible multi tasking? I know, I know. Save your lectures, sisters. I already realize the dangers. Xo!

I believe, too!!

2008-10-08T23:19:00.005-05:00

My friend Sara Jane inspired me (and others) to write "I Believe" blogs after we all read hers--it was brilliant. Here's mine.

I Believe...

that we come to our greatest conclusions in the hours we spend considering only our thoughts--with ourselves, when we listen to our hearts, not our crazed minds.

it's hard for people to change, but, of course, it is possible.

You and I, we should be done. What does it mean that it seems it's never actually "done"? Can our hearts even bear to handle it again?

a hot tub and a large glass of red are the perfect end to any day.

in the neccesity and beauty of friendship, and the power of it. My people rock.

in finding joy in what you do, and, just as importantly, the people you work with.

in my convictions. My character is such that I will not apologize for something I know I did not start.

I am worth it. And I'm not going to settle.

my little niece Emerson can put a smile on my face anytime--even when she's a grouch.

in dresses.

and fingernail polish.

in love stories.

that one of these candidates will fix this brilliant mess.

in never expecting from others that which you would not do yourself.

in the healing power of travel--exploring new cities.

in the delight of a good night's sleep in your own bed.

in music.

in blogging.

Lovely.

2008-10-07T22:12:00.003-05:00

My day today, it was just that. Lovely.

I spent several hours meandering the streets of downtown Chicago. I popped my head into a bunch of stores and perused the shelves. I saw a couple gals with bags from H&M and so popped out the blackberry to figure out where this store was. (I must say, investing in a blackberry was a wise, wise move.) I found H&M and Urban Outfitters, etc. It was at H&M that I found happiness. In a dress. A lovely dress. A black dress. With wonderful polka dots. And a great neckline. A dress that I cannot find a picture of online to show you the wonderful-ness of. Alas.

Downtown is wonderful. Bayjb, I found your lion from your picture. I knew I had seen it somewhere, and then, it clicked! I wandered through Millenium Park, and scooped through the Bean--it made me dizzy, a little.

After getting out of town, I hopped on the 88 and at the toll-booth, I was met with another lovely moment. I know, interesting setting, right? A very cute boy, surprisingly, was working the booth. He had dark skin and dark hair and dark eyes. Yum. Anyway, after I ask for my reciept, he asks me, "what color are your eyes, naturally?" To which I respond, "these are them!" to which he gives me the "ok" sign with his hand, and says, "they are beautiful." So are you, toll booth boy, so are you. If there wasn't a line of cars behind me, I would so stay and chat with you. Kiss kiss.

Then, I made my way to the Yorktown shopping center and decided it was time for a new 'do. I stopped at a random salon, and they had time for me. Lovely. A funky chick came out of the back room to cut my hair--I knew it was going to be good. And it is. I hacked it off, and I love love love it. I don't know how much--maybe 4 inches off the back? Needless to say, I am in hair lust. I might have to make regular trips back to this city to visit Melissa.

Finally, I took the advice of one of my coworkers and grabbed some food at Portillos. He told me to get the Italian beef with hot peppers--it was freaking amazing. Seriously, so good. After a quick trip to Target to grab some tights--for the new dress--I found my way back to the lovely hotel I am a resident of this week.

Now, must get work done!!! :)

P.S. Thanks for your advice yesterday. You gals are awesome.

Am I being irrational?

2008-10-07T10:16:00.001-05:00

Would any of you continue to date a guy who takes you out on Saturday night, and then on Sunday night writes about loving slash missing slash being incomplete w/o his ex gf and then posts it online for the entire world to see ?

I feel like that is a huge neon sign that says 'not ready for a new relationship,' but maybe I am being dramatic. Thoughts please...

***Kyla reminded me of an interesting point. I did ask him about it and immediately he was defensive and mad telling me he is not completely over her but did not know if he would get back w/ her if she asked. He thought I was ridiculous for caring about it. At dinner Saturday he also made clear that he never actually wanted to break up with her. The message he wrote all in all was very raw--its obvious he still cares for slash loves her and I don't know if that's something I risk messing around with.

I am all for giving things a chance in most cases but this seems like I could be setting myself and my small little heart up for disaster...??

Chicago bound...again

2008-10-05T12:58:00.002-05:00

I know it has been a full week since I last posted--that's pretty much uncalled for in the blogosphere, I know. Now, I am going to have to bust out my usual excuse--I have been busy! I was in Minneapolis for a few days and then back and then working and then packing and then finding a rental car and then going on a date or two and then packing and then sleeping and then heading this way--to my sister's, where I am staying the night on my way to Chicago tomorrow. I decided I should come over early to hang out with my sis, BIL and Em. Haven't seen them in a while.

The roommate and I had a bunch of work people over on Friday night after work. It was a pretty decent time! Our favorite thing to do is get drunk and play catchphrase. Anyway, there was lots of food, too much drinking, and too little sleep. We all had to be at work for an event at 7:30 on Saturday morning. Yikes. I was freakin' tired last night.

Anyway, "he" took me on a motorcycle ride. Which was an interesting first time hanging out. You can't get around the awkward first, like, touching a person when you actually have to hang on for dear life. Then we went to dinner. And last night we went to dinner again, and a movie. He's cute. But I'm not getting the hopes up--who knows what will happen.

I hate my sister. While I was out with him, she was witnessing miracles. Miracles by the name of Kathy Griffin. And her life. On the D List. That bitch. She went to see my idol and didn't even bother to get me a ticket. Hatred burns deep in this veins. I would never do such a thing to her. Anyway, she says she was wonderful. As if there was any question. I'll be resentful and bitter until the day I die, very likely.

Alright, I gotta get a drink.

I'll write you all from Chicago. I hope you're still reading considering I took a ridiculously long hiatus. Love you all.

Oh, and Amanda, I am driving a Dodge Avenger this week--it's fast.

Girly

2008-09-28T07:58:00.003-05:00

This weekend I have indulged in tons of girl stuff. Painting my nails, having girly drinks, trying different things with the makeup, switching up the usual outfits, shopping and spending money I shouldn't be--just fun, girl weekend stuff. But, the one thing I did more than anything this weekend was take in a few great chick flicks!

Friday night after a post-work drink with a couple of my favorite ladies, Beth and I went to see Nights in Rodanthe. I thought it was terribly depressing--I mean, like your most emotional chick flick movie ever. But, Richard Gere is hot in it, and so is Diane Lane, and they are hot together. Plus, my favorite SVU detective Elliot Stabler makes an appearance, and I am all about that hottie. So, if you want to get your heart ripped out by the most ridiculously romantic and incredibly depressing love story, check it.

Then, yesterday afternoon, Danielle and I decided that we needed to have a Sex and the City day. She bought the movie so we lounged around and watched that--acting just as surprised and entertained as we had the first time we had seen it. That movie is freaking great, and I imagine most of you have seen it. I have lots and lots of love for that movie. And I just acquired the soundtrack yesterday (thanks Danielle!) and it's pretty good, too. I think I am definitely a Miranda. What about you?

Last night, Lucy got back to her and Danielle's place after work, and we decided to get off the living room floor and actually take ourselves to a movie rather than bust into the DVDs of our favorite gals. We decided on the Women. And I thought it was hilarious. I didn't know the story line, and haven't seen the older version of the movie, so I had no expectations. It was so cool though, to see a movie done with only women. Every single character in this flick is a woman (with one minor exception). It was really cool. I thought it was quite funny, and I think Meg Ryan is adorable.

So, it was a pretty relaxing weekend, filled with some of my favorite characters, good movies, and my so lovely friends--love it!

Arrested.

2008-09-23T15:26:00.004-05:00

Howdy from the Windy City! It wasn't really all that windy here today, in fact, it was quite nice--sunny, and warm! I know you were all concerned, so I wanted to let you know that I did get a new suitcase--one with normal wheels. Lets just hope that it lasts this time! :)

As I drove into Chicago today (in a really ugly PT Cruiser--I'm sorry if any of you drive one, but it is SO not the car for me) I was faced with some serious serious road construction. It was intense. When I mistook an exit for a toll lane, I was off the interstate in a flash. No biggie, right? Just drive right back on? WRONG! Due to all this construction, I was forced to drive myself all over some random suburb of Chicago to try to get back onto the interstate. It was a tense 15 minutes, to say the least.

Anyway, I finally got in to the city and found my hotel. It was like the second time my Mapquest directions haven't effed me and left me scrambling for the right roads. I need a GPS. Here's the thing, though, my friend Tiff told me to be aware of the toll situation. Thus, I had plenty of cash on me. I went to my event tonight, and realized that you seriously have a toll like every two minutes. I think that mapquest and the city of Chicago have teamed up to make some serious money. Mapquest strings you through the most ridiculous amount of tolls and zig zags you through this city in an attempt to get you where you need to go via the longest route possible and make the most money. I bet Mapquest gets like 10% for effing with poor people like me who don't know the best way around the city. How else do you explain the 157 tolls I went through today?

Here's the other problem--I told you I had plenty of cash. And I did....I did NOT have plenty of change. Once you get in here, the tolls don't have people working them and you are to use exact change. Yeah, um, this girl doesn't carry much change. So, I don't really know where I was but I just chucked the last of my change at the machine, and drove through. I am fairly sure I have skipped out on a few tolls today. I didn't have any money! So, I will probably be arrested by the IL DOT by the time the week is up. (Not really, I can pay for the ones I missed on line--with a credit card--not with dimes.)

This girl's gotta get some sleep. It's gonna be an early morning and a ton of driving tomorrow.

Oh the joys of travel season!

2008-09-20T12:40:00.003-05:00

I made my way to the Phoenix consolidated rental car station this morning with plenty of time to spare. Dropped off the lovely Saturn Aura that had kept me in good company all week, and then I was dragging my things to the elevator to find the shuttle to my terminal. My luggage consists of my normal sized suitcase with like, clothes, shoes, bathroom stuff, etc. My small suitcase, which is carry on size and full of work stuff--publications that I sent out here and never used and so am dragging back--that little bitch is heavy. I also have my laptop in its bag, and my purse. Not extreme--just enough. I've done the double bag, laptop, purse gig before and it's never been a problem. I've got a little strap thing that hooks the two suitcases together, and so I only have to use one hand to carry them both--life is good.

So, when I get to the line for my shuttle, I can't figure out why the hell my bags seem so heavy and I am already sweating.

A nice man helped me with the bags the rest of the way--the threw them on the bus for me and I settled in for the 10 minute ride to the terminal. Get off the bus, rig the bags up, and drag them across the street--again, way too heavy to even make this work. So I unhook them, balance my laptop on one, purse on the other and I am off to find my ticket counter.

I look back to see where I am at one point and notice that my bag is leaving a weird like streak on the carpet near the counters. Wtf? Whatever, I don't have time to investigate, I just want to get my tickets and get these F*&^ing bags out of my possession for the next 8 hours.

I go to the lovely self check in that American Airlines offers, pay an extra 40 dollars to check these two bags, and then have to drag them once more to the security line to drop them off. After she tags the big bag, I get to looking at it. I then realize what the problem has been all morning.

It's one of those bags that has the wheels that do the 360 turn so you can pull it whatever direction you want. Well, apparently, when I hooked the little bag up to it and started pulling, the wheels didn't want to turn.

The.bitching.wheels.rubbed.themselves.flat, and then on top of it all, started.falling.apart. I touched one of them--so hot from all the effing friction they created that I nearly burned my fingers off. So, here I am with this bag that has wheels that aren't even round, and have chunks falling off of them. To make this even worse, this is the 3rd flight/trip I've ever taken with said bag--it's basically brand new.

Whatever.

TSA dude, please take this bag from me before I beat the shit out of it and cause a major scene. Thank you.

Everybody's doing it!

2008-09-17T01:10:00.003-05:00

I was really excited to see that Amanda at I Could Be Ordinary tagged me in her most recent post, and then I had to realize that I had to actually think about all of these things!! Thanks for the tag, girl!

A. Attached or Single? Singleton!

B. Best Friend? I have been blessed with lots of fantastic people in my life! They know who they are!

C. Cake or pie? Cake. For sure. Yellow with chocolate frosting.

D. Day of choice? Saturday. When it's not my day to work. Sleep in. Be lazy. I love Saturdays. Sundays are a close close second.

E. Essential item? My computer--namely for internet/email purposes, and good music.

F. Favorite color? Green

G. Gummy bears or worms? Bears

H. Hometown? Spencer! Go Tigers!

I. Favorite indulgence? Red, red wine.

J. January or July? July. July is a good month. And it's warm. And perfect for grilling, being in the sun, and drinking beer.

K. Kids? No, I don't have any. And I don't want any for a long time. Although, I love other people's kids. And babies are adorable. I'm not a hater, I just am not ready for them! Scary!

L. Life isn’t complete without? Nail polish.

M. Marriage date? Ha! Marriage schmarriage!

N. Number of brothers and sisters? 2: Autumn (26) and Christy (18)

O. Oranges or Apples? Both

P. Phobias? Spiders. Warm milk. Oversleeping.

Q. Quotes?I have lots of favorites--but my current favorite right now is: "Promise yourself to be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind." (Thanks Kara!)

R. Reasons to smile? I like smiling. Smiling's my favorite. Um...having hilarious conversations with fun people. Little Emerson. Good blogs by my blog-friends. Text messages. Cute boys. My really awesome friends (wine days/nights, SATC extravaganzas, driving aimlessly on gravel roads, really long pointless conversations), I just love them.

S. Season of choice? I go back and forth here. I mean, I love all seasons for different reasons. I wish they changed monthly instead of like, tri-monthly. It would be better then--you wouldn't really be able to get sick of them! I love flip flops in the summer, sweatshirts in the fall, snow in the winter, and raincoats in the spring!

T. Tag 5 people: Bayjb, Beth, Kara, E, Auburn Kat!

U. Unknown fact about me? Um...I often gag when brushing my teeth. My feet are NEVER still, and they're always hot.

V. Vegetable? Corn. No contest.

W. Worst habit? Flirting. With the wrong boys.

X. X-ray or Ultrasound? Niether.

Y. Your favorite food? Mashed potatoes. Soup. Corn. Bread. Pasta. Olive Garden Salad. Wine. Beer.

Z. Zodiac sign? Aries.

Phoenix, oh Phoenix

2008-09-16T10:02:00.003-05:00

I'm debating getting showered and going shopping or heading straight back into bed. Phoenix is great. I made it here safe and sound--a bit more turbulence than usual, and about an hour behind schedule, but I was just glad to get here!! The scenery is a cool change from lush Iowa...it's definitely brown here. But hey, how often do you get to do your work while laying by the pool as a lizard scurries around next to you? I got a little too much sun yesterday, so the pool is out for today. It's off to Tucson tonight!

When I got in on Saturday, I got like the last car in the Enterprise lot. It was a really ugly car. I get excited about rental cars. I think it's fun to drive different cars that don't actually belong to you--it's like a really long test drive. Am I the only one who feels this way?? Anyway, I was very depressed when they told me that was the one. I looked at Mr. Enterprise in disbelief. He said, well, I do have a Ford F150 you could drive if you want that instead? Yeah right. As if this girl is going to be gallivanting around Phoenix in a big ole' Ford? So I took the really ugly Kia. It was like a midget mini-van. Thankfully, the alignment was off or something because the darned thing shook like crazy going down the interstate. I took it back the next morning and graciously accepted a brand new Saturn Aura--it's MUCH better.

So, My Sister's Keeper is incredibly sad. But I thought it was a good book (you can borrow it when I get home, Bethy!). I loved the writing. I went to Barnes and Noble on Sunday after I finished it to by another Picoult book. I mean, I suppose it makes sense to read the most depressing books possible in a place where the sun is always shining! Thus, I purchased Nineteen Minutes--anyone? Anyone?? I'm not quite half way done with it...but I'm not liking it quite as much as I liked the other one...at least not yet!

On another note--the Hills is on. Spencer Pratt. Ewe. Enough said.

Airport, oh airport.

2008-09-13T11:43:00.003-05:00

Here I sit in the DSM International Airport. I am Phoenix bound. I have a two hour layover in Dallas. My flight was just delayed about a half an hour. The thing is, there is a hurricane in Texas, and by 3pm they are supposed to be experiencing squalls in Dallas. My flight out of Dallas is supposed to be at 4:15. In the middle.of.a.squall. What the heck is a squall, anyway?? What do you suppose the odds of me actually getting to Dallas/Phoenix today are? Yeah, I thought so, too. This could be a long day. I hope very much that someone is going to be available to come and pick me up when all the flights are cancelled. Barf.

On another note, I still love airports. Especially with a computer. People watching is fun. There are some interesting characters in the world. And I love to see the dynamics between couples when travel plans go awry. All flights to Chicago just got postponed by like 2-3 hours. This woman just totally bit her husbands head off while they are standing in line for a gate agent to change their itinerary. As if he could change the torrential downpours they are experiencing in the windy city...

I did buy a new book this morning, though. My Sister's Keeper--Jodi Picoult. I've heard excellent reviews. I decided to give it a try...turns out I might have lots of time to read it. I'm sitting close to the counter. That's my typical modus operandi...which is because I am honestly always delayed/cancelled. She who sits closest to the counter has the best chance of hopping on another plane. Seriously. This happens to me all.the.time.

Thank god for Xanax.

AZ

2008-09-10T16:37:00.001-05:00

It's Wednesday. I have a headache. My nose is running. It's the worst year for ragweed, like, ever. I am tired. It's been a long week--already. Most of the day at work I think ~~about killing myself with office supplies, scissors, phone cords, and exacto knives must be kept out of my hands~~ about passing the time productively.

Today my mind is wandering. Nothing seems to be going right. I'm feeling flustered and behind. And the only thing that keeps me from throwing in the proverbial towel and taking the rest of this bitch of a day off is the thought of Saturday.

Saturday, my friends, I depart for gloriously sunny and hot Phoenix, Arizona. The ten day forecast shows temperatures in the high 90s and lots of sun. Let's celebrate, just for a second, the outdoor swimming pool at my hotel. Seriously. Are you celebrating? Whatever. Bastards.

I'm there for a week. For work. Which means I can meet up with a couple friends in the area one night, and the rest of the week is mine. To do as I please (I mean, there will be work, too, of course). To eat. To drink. To sleep. To lay in the sun. And I can't wait. It's going to be freaking fantastic to get out of this office for a while and hop in a car or on a plane and listen to my music as loudly as I would like.....ahhhhh I love travel season. Besides, it's getting cold here wayyyyy too fast and these allergies are enough to drive the sanest of people to the looney bin.

There is a real possibility that my next post might find me typing poolside...

Are you ready...

2008-09-06T12:13:00.004-05:00

for some football?

It feels like fall in Iowa--sleeping with the windows open and sweatpants on is perfect. The mornings are filled with a crisp, cool dampness, and the evenings cool off quickly. This weather automatically makes me think of two things: travel season, and football.

I'll be honest in saying that I am not the most avid football fan. In fact, I rarely watched it ever until my sister got married and her husband made me. I actually enjoy watching now--as long as someone tells me ~~what the hell is going on~~ which team we are supposed to be rooting for.

Anyway, today marks the first football game at my beloved alma mater. It's the perfect day for the first game--the sun is shining, the air is still and the temperature is just right--perfect for jeans and long-sleeved tees. The team has a brand new coaching staff and a whole new group of kids playing the game this fall, and I am so excited to see how it works out! I don't know plays. I know what the quarterback and the kicker do--everyone else just kindof blends together to me and if people start talking about like, linemen and stuff, I get really confused. I don't know what coaches do what, and I don't care! I know enough to tell who is doing well, and ultimately, who wins (which, of course, will be us!!! *knocks on wood* )!!

Enjoy the weekend!!! Happy fall.

Down, girl, down!

2008-09-05T07:46:00.002-05:00

I think Sarah Palin is a scary woman. I don’t really think we need to get into political arguments here on the blog front so I am going to keep my issue commentary to a minimum—lets just say, she and I agree on absolutely nothing. Nothing. Honestly, I am afraid of the influence she could have--and I think she's crazy.

Someone referenced her as the long lost sister of Rush Limbaugh and Anne Coulter—I would agree! Honestly, did you watch her speech at the RNC? I hate dirty politics (what I say on my blog… not politics—I’ll rip all I want! :)), and that was what her entire speech was—what did she say…something along the lines of “the opposition said they can’t stand McCain—the truth is, they can’t stand up to McCain.” Really? Honestly? And then, trying to strike the fear of whatever deity you may believe in into all of those in attendance? Yikes. Her audience was hooting and hollering like people on that scary movie “Jesus Camp.” McChange? Seriously. Give it up people. And if you think McChange is going to work, you should probably think again…although you might get the votes of the loyal McDonalds patrons.

I feel like John McCain thought that he was going to get a VP to steal the Hillary following—a wise strategy, indeed. He should probably have picked someone a little less intensely right wing . Yikes, McCain, yikes. He’s nearly 105 years old—if he gets in office (which I find unlikely) I will either move to Canada or think about killing myself….but back to the point—if he gets in, and dies from old age (which we have to consider--I mean honestly), we are stuck with her. And that fear, my friends, is why liberals all over the world are taking Xanax in record doses.

As David Letterman said, she should probably have gone into a career which would have suited her better—as a model at Lenscrafters.

She kinda looks like Tina Fey, too, huh? Poor Tina Fey.

(*I hope her kids don't read this. I would feel really badly.)

Let the debates begin... :)

Photos

2008-09-01T12:08:00.002-05:00

This morning, I woke up, wandered around the house, and the decided I need to go to get some pictures printed off and get a cd burned so I could create my latest blog. Pictures, dear friends, are essential to the idea.

So I drag myself to the car and through the parking lot, into the store, find the photo kiosk, sit on the stool and attempt to figure out which of the 11 slots my memory card fits into. First one is too small, and then I place it into the second one, and all of the sudden it's gone. I hear it clink around somewhere. Clearly slot number 2 is far too large.

Shit.

So I go find the guy that works there, and he has to page another guy to help. Guy number two surprises me. I am surprised this establishment lets someone so crazy handle any of their keys. He and guy number one have to look through nearly 600 keys to figure out what they are going to do.

Guy number two comes up to me and says, "Well, you know, if all else fails, I'll just do what I used to do in high school."

Me: *very blank stare*

Guy number two: "Yeah, you know, when I was younger I used to pick locks all the time."

Me: *unimpressed* "huh."

Guy number two then proceeds to find some safety pins, and I shit you not, has both of these safety pins jimmying around inside this lock trying to get it open, and he thinks he's totally bad-ass for doing so. What the hell?

Finally, guy number one finds the right key and they end up having to tear this machine apart--there are seriously pieces everywhere.

I get my memory card back--celebration! Ya! I can get on wtih my day! Not.

The irony is it wasn't even the right memory card...

And I refuse to go back to said establishment today, so you are going to have to wait until at least tomorrow for the actual post that was intended for today....Happy Long Weekend!

Bandaid.

2008-08-29T10:31:00.003-05:00

So, I'm not a big fan of needles. At all. I dread getting bloodwork done. And typically, unless I am actually really sick, I get my blood drawn once a year--they do blood profiling at work and I succumb to that. I would donate my blood, too, if I could, but apparently when you live in Europe during mad cow disease of the late 80s and early 90s you are permanently deferred (who'd've thunk it?). So, the red cross won't take my blood...and I'm okay with that. I mean, i do feel a little guilty, because I would give it if I could, but frankly, not getting needles jabbed in my arm is okay with me.

My blood profiling for work is next week. I've been mentally preparing for it for some time now. Just getting myself all jazzed up and convincing myself it will work out just fine.

This morning I went to the doctor regarding a medication change. I thought it would be one of those quick in and out trips. The nurse came in, took my blood pressure. Left. Doctor came in, discussed changes, left. 10 minutes later he sticks his head in and declares: "I think I am going to do some blood work too, just to make sure we are on the right track."

Bleh. Please no.

So, blood lady comes in. I have to lie down. I can't watch. Before I know it, it was over and she patched me up with a large bandaid with a very colorful design--she forgot to put regular ones back in her caddy. I know, right?

I survived. Immediately afterwards I headed to the local gas station and filled up my 32 oz Diet Dew. There was a cute guy standing next to me filling his with some Diet Coke.

He says "Excuse me" as he sneaks by me.
I say, "No problem."
He looks down at my arm, and then he says, "Sweet Bandaid..."

Crystal Blog

2008-08-26T07:49:00.000-05:00

Last night, dear friend Kara and I sat out on her porch with a really good bottle of red wine between us. It was the perfect weather for a porch night. The temperature was perfect, the humidity wasn’t terribly high, and the wind was non-existent. There we sat, feet up on the railing and a glass in hand—each of us with an adorable Chihuahua (that’s a hard one to spell!) in our laps. We were discussing the day, the outlook for the week, and importantly, our plans for the long weekend. We were meandering thoughts of life and love and work and happiness as we usually do. And then, she made this comment: “I wish I had a crystal ball that I could look into to see how everything turns out.”

I believe my next line was: “Actually, I’m not sure I would want to know—what if I wasn’t happy?”

And what if I wasn’t? For that brief moment in time that the ball let me see—what if I was a crumpled mess on the couch surrounded by Kleenex, wine bottles and Ben and Jerry’s with greasy hair and smudged makeup? Certainly that one moment of clarity wouldn’t be enough to make me dread my future, would it? What if I was on that couch because I had just broken up with someone I had spent several happy months/years with?…Maybe I need to see a week at a time to figure out if I would really want to know what the future holds in store for me…even then, that week could be miniscule in comparison to how I felt during that entire month. Or what if that month was one bad month in a year of happy months? What if that year was a bad year in comparison to a decade of good ones? And what if it wasn’t? What if that year was just as dreadful as the 9 that came before it? What would you have to look forward to? Wouldn’t your dreams dissipate in the now if you knew of their premature demise? What would you do for the next several years in the meantime?

How much would I actually need to see before I felt comfortable taking a glimpse my future? I am not finding it very easy to actually pick a set amount of time—a time I would be comfortable seeing...it’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Would you look?

I think, over all, I’ll just hold tightly to my hope and when the long grey-haired red and purple clad jingling gypsy woman walks by offering that glimpse, I’ll save my ten bucks…

Monday Funday

2008-08-25T16:23:00.002-05:00

Ahhh Monday, I loathe you. The beginning of a new week. The jolt out of bed after a meandering lazy Sunday. The sun shines brighter through my window on Mondays, I am convinced. And my alarm clock (i.e. roomie Sara) speaks louder than usual. The world, in my opinion, is a much darker place on Mondays--the week seems so long and the days I love (Th, Fr, Sa, Su) seem so far away. And for that reason, I loathe Monday.

Today was a typical loatheful Monday. Monday woke up with a serious case of bitchiness and I spent several hours trying to calm Miss Monday down (Monday, personified in my opinion, is an angst filled, mouthy, materialistic high schooler--a little prima donna). Miss Monday wasn't having it. Threw a fit and spit on my shoes. Honestly, work this morning was disasterous. If I said it didn't force a few big heavy sighs and mumbled curses and lots of inside crying, I would be lying. I hate Monday.

Monday misery loves company. Which is why, when I called my dear friend Kara, I felt relief. Her first full sentence (after venting about the struggles of her inability to find the margins tab on the new Microsoft word) was--I believe you mentioned wine on my deck tonight, right?! Duh. What else would a gal do with a lousy Monday. Comfy shorts and a big glass of red. Monday, you don't seem quite so bad after all. Just kidding. I still hate you, but the wine helps.

Anyone else? Anyone?

A bunch of randomness follows...

2008-08-24T13:47:00.003-05:00

Finally, the insanity is over. Work is done for the weekend, sister is moved in to college, the chaos has subsided. At least momentarily. At this point, I am so tired that I can barely type...but here I am.

And I miss college. Moving the kid in this weekend made me realize that in an absolute way. I miss the excitement of the new year--the energy that is automatically felt every time you enter the dorms. The joy I used to find in purchasing pens and pencils, and the smell of fresh paper. Mentally putting together the outfit you were going to wear on your first night back on campus. Flipping through your new textbooks both excited and agonized over the material. Ahh. Stupid college, why must I miss you so?

I went to Walmart and bought new pens. I feel a bit better.

This afternoon I finished Breaking Dawn--the 4th book in the Twilight series, and let me just tell you, it's far different from the first three books. I won't include any spoilers as I know people who are still reading or haven't started yet. But, in very distinct contrast to the rest of her books, I am at a loss. Stephanie, you ripped my heart out and stomped on it. Why did you do that? Did your editors force you to write this one too quickly? What gives?

Oh, and on another note, all you gals who love sappy, depressing music as much as I do, you must listen to the following song--Bring Me to You by Joshua Radin...I've included the YouTube so you have no excuse.

Must go and enjoy the remaining blissful hours of Sunday. See you tomorrow.

Blehhhhh

2008-08-20T17:32:00.001-05:00

Vacation schmakation. The thing about vacation that sucks is that you can't go on vacation and come back to work and actually feel like you've been on vacation. I feel like I am totally swimming today at work and no matter what I do, the stacks keep getting higher and higher and higher--anyone want to sign 2,000 letters for me? Blue ink, please, not black. And I don't give a S%^$ if your wrist hurts--just do it.

And, on top of that, how about miss Lolo Jones? What a bummer. She's a DM native, as is Shawn Johnson, so as an Iowan, and an American, I feel terrible that her stupid knee robbed her of the gold. If only it would have whipped itself up a little bit earlier. And watching her afterwards? Ummm, heartbreaking. Poor thing. I was amazed she held it together for the interview as she did.

This week is slipping away from me. I have so much laundry to do--clothes to wash from the trip, sheets to wash before the family comes in to town this weekend--you know, a whole list of shit that I have no time to do. Sigh. I suppose mom and sis might just have to deal with mascara stained pillow cases (I have GOT to do a better job of washing my face before bed).

I ate too much at lunch (but french fries with buffalo sauce are, in my opinion, irresistable). And I feel like I haven't really spoken to my friends since I got home aside from minor chit-chat. But, tonight, there will be wine drunk with my dear friend Kara, tomorrow I have my softball tournament (ya!), and on Friday, we have a "company" gathering at the big, big boss's house. Which also means I have to juggle family and work/fun--but I think if I leave mom and sis at my place, they can sort through her things and figure out what else they need to do before we move her into her dorm on Saturday morning. Yay for the kid going to college!

Phew. I need a nap. And it's not nearly over.

NYC

2008-08-19T16:14:00.004-05:00

The Big Apple and I had a blast! And of course so did Best and I!

The trip got off to a really rocky start. I got into Milwaukee for a three hour layover just before 11. My flight was at 2. Then it got pushed back to 3. And then 4. And then it got cancelled. After having done my fair share of traveling, I have learned that you sit close to the counter before boarding flights for reasons such as this—flight is cancelled and you are the first one in line waiting for a new ticket…well, I was second. And I got the last seat on the 7pm flight. That got pushed back to 9:08. People. I was in Milwaukee for over. Ten. Hours. Ten. Hours. Seriously. In a big great airport, this is a long wait. In Milwaukee it was nearly unbearable. I drank myself into a coma, and then when I was out of money, sobered up, read my book until I couldn’t handle it and went back to drinking. This being said, I didn’t get into Newark until 12:45 and it was nearly 2am before my cabbie found Best’s apartment. Ugh. Exhausting.

The rest of the weekend, however, went off without a hitch! So fun! We saw pretty much everything I wanted to. The statue of liberty was gorgeous at sunset. We walked along Wall Street and had lunch at a great burger joint. We went out to this bar called Forum where the drinks were expensive but the entertainment was great! This was also where Best and I got caught talking smack in the bathroom about this girl who was obnoxiously trying to get on Friend #2. Best and I got our nails painted and drank wine on the balcony. We smoked cigarettes (don’t tell our parents!

We smoke sometimes when we get together, because that’s what we did in HS! ). Me, Best, and Best’s Boyfriend shared a bed, since his friends were in town too—and sharing the couch bed. They were very nice, funny guys, but not quite my type. I’m looking for Geof from Ace of Cakes—and he’s a rare breed. Best named the weekend “Operation Get Some” but that operation failed completely…and I was okay with that! J We sat on the sidewalk in Little Italy drinking wine and stuffing our faces with bread. We convinced a cabbie to squeeze 5 of us in his cab to take us home from the bar. We ate pizza at 3:30 in the morning. We rode the Staten Island Ferry. And wandered Battery Park City (awesome!). We wandered Soho, and we found a great little cupcake shop. Ahhh. I loved it.

We saw Hairspray (pretty funny!!) on Sunday afternoon and wandered Central Park before returning home to cook some dinner and drink on the 14th floor. We saw Brooke Shields, and I ran past her, whipped back around and looked to make sure—she laughed at me. But it was her. And her kids. And her bodyguards.

It was a great weekend. The energy of NYC is so different than what I am used to day in and day out. It was a great trip and a great time to catch up with Best—I miss her so! I’m including some pictures for your perusal! I'll be telling more in depth stories as the week progresses, but there is so much to talk about!! I thought we would start with a Tuesday overview and let the week proceed from here!

My wine glass and Little Italy

Statue of Liberty at Sunset from the Staten Island Ferry

Me, walking home barefoot from the bar because those shoes hurt my feet!

Me and Best standing along the Hudson River after brunch on Sunday

Manhattan at night--the view from Best's building's balcony

Hasta La Vista!

2008-08-13T17:13:00.002-05:00

Alright friends, I am heading home to pack, as tomorrow, I am headed out for a four day adventure to New York City!

I am going to see Best and catch up on everything we've been missing in each other's lives.

We are going to drink wine.

And shop.

And see the sites.

And drink wine.

And go see a show on Broadway.

And wander Central Park.

And hang out in Times Square.

And drink wine.

And hang out.

And have an AMAZING time!!!! I'll be back on Tuesday and you can be sure that there will be lots of pictures and stories to follow!! Enjoy the weekend. See you soon.

So much fair fun!

2008-08-12T00:42:00.001-05:00

So, the fair was super fun!!! Sara, Kara and I went, and met up wtih Ali, Lincoln and Tucker, as well as several other people from work along the way! Here are some pics!

Cute baby donkey

White trashiest person at the fair award goes to : that guy!
Me and the love of my life, little Tucker! (Don't mind me...looking gross)
Me and Kara rocking out!
Jamie and Kara as Corn dogs and turkey legs
Sara and Jamie by a big bull
Kara with her chickens
That, my friends, is a 3000 pound cow
And that, my friends, is a 1200 pound pig with an enormously large scrotum

All in all, the fair was a success! Great time with great friends! Also, the food and the beer weren't too bad either! No one rode the big slide with me, though. Jerks. I highly recommend gnawing on a turkey leg in an extremely carnivorous manner whilst holding a large beverage in the other hand! Enjoy the pics! :)

Oh, how I love Iowa

2008-08-11T12:20:00.000-05:00

There are many reasons why I enjoy my job. A week off at Christmas, great vacation, awesome coworkers, my windowless office, half day Fridays in the summer, and another one: FAIR DAY! It brings me back to high school a little bit, because we always got Friday off to go enjoy the county fair (Clay County--the second largest county fair in the world next to Orange County California--Spencerites, be proud, be proud) and all we did was run around and talk about people we didn't like, ride rides till we were sick and flirt with crazy carnies while trying to convince Chris to eat the goldfish he just won and pry Best away from the carnie at the basketball tent while she tried to convince him to give her a giant teddy bear for a kiss.

Well, anyway, the Iowa State Fair is going on right now, so everyone at work gets the afternoon off to go to the fair and enjoy the glorious weather! It's a crazy big deal. This means Turkey Legs, Funnel Cakes, Bud tents, Fried Snickers on a stick, Cheese Curds, the Butter Cow, you know, the works.

It will probably be a little different for me now, though. My high school friends won't be there, ad my bosses will, which means I have to be on my best behavior--and probably avoid flirting with the carnies. Of course we will make our way through the animal pavillions and see the 3,000 pound pig. There is also a sculpture of Olympic Gymnast and West Des Moines native Shawn Johnson made out of butter. I am sure that will be a sight.

So, I am off to the fair. Going with the girls. Gossip will abound. I love it. This will be my one and only day at the fair--I'm not a die-hard like some people I know. 4 hours and I am faired out for at least two years--but they are a good 4 hours. And, I have already discussed it with my ass, and she is going to forgive me for all of the damaging things I plan on doing today. I am not kidding about the Turkey Leg--that's my favorite part. Here's to half days!

NYC

2008-08-10T11:10:00.002-05:00

Time has flown, and I can't believe that this Thursday I am going to be boarding a plane to go visit Best in NYC. I miss her terribly, and so being able to spend 4 and a half days in the city is so exciting! I can't really remember the last time I actually laid eyes on Best. We've both been doing our seperate things since college and it's been far too long since we've actually seen each other.

However, we're really good at keeping in touch thanks to technology: G-chat and text messaging have saved our friendship. We are forever grateful.

I can't wait to sit around and chat--to drink bottles of red wine and eat great food. To plan out the rest of our lives and re-live our favorite memories from our youth! To remember all the nights we spent driving around smoking cigarettes and spying on our crushes. It's going to be such a great trip.

Anyway, I'm off to the city and so excited. This week at work was a little too exhausting and slightly stressful. I've been in a funk. I can't wait to get out of here for a while. Before I know it, the summer is going to be over and we are going to be right back in to the intensity of travel season and I'll be be-bopping all over the place flying here and driving there and trying to remember the last time I spent the night in my own bed.

Also, this is my first time in NYC. I have been wanting to visit since middle school. I am sure Best will have a lot of ideas as far as what we should do--but does anyone else have any secrets about the city? Things I should never pass up?

Random Friday

2008-08-08T10:53:00.001-05:00

My random thought blog: Inspired by the one and only Sara Jane.

Friday: Thank the dear lord in heaven! I can not handle any more of this week. It has been insane, which also explains my lack of blogging this week. Apologies, friends. Apologies.

Headaches: Likely inspired by this week, the noggin’ is pounding in my ears. 8 ibuprofen have not helped. I am flipping TIRED!

Breaking Dawn: I have to get some reading done this weekend. I am putting it off and putting it off—mostly because this week has been insane. Also because I have spent most nights out with friends and reading wasn’t exactly on top of the priority list.

Contacts: My eyes are dying today, due to 9 days of 24 hour contact wearing. I had to literally peel the thing out of my eye this morning. Glasses on the face today. The eyes are a little sore.

Painting: I really want to paint my bedroom furniture. It just seems like so much work. Arg.

Death: If my coworker Andy doesn’t quit telling me to go kill myself, or threaten to kill me, I will probably have to turn him in soon. He scares the hell out of me. In fact, he just said, “If you write that, I will kill you.” Please help.

Pizza: Fun day Friday at the office. Pizza and breadsticks, here we come.

Chicken Nuggets: Drunkenly after my softball game last night, roommate and I went to Wendy’s and ordered an insane amount of chicken nuggets. So insane, I am too humiliated to even write the number.

My office: I already share, and we recently hired another person who will be in here, too. I’m curious how having three people in a space the size of my bedroom is going to work out. The newbie seems pretty cool, so I have high hopes.

The weekend: Beer guzzling at the state fair on the party bus tonight, or hanging out with little Emerson. I’m struggling with the decision.

Matt Nathanson: I love him. Pretty the World is my current favorite song. My office mate is likely sick of it. Hopefully newbie has the same taste in music…

Posting: I need to post this blog so that my faithful readers (love you all) do not think I have died.

Hopefully I will have something with a little more of a storyline, or something that has even the slightest point, over the weekend. Enjoy!

nanananananananananananananana BATMAN

2008-08-04T06:51:00.000-05:00

**Batman trailers to follow—do not read if you don’t want any details of the movie spoiled.**

So, I was sitting at the bar with my dad. After sampling the local Omahaian micro-brews, it was decided that we should probably have a couple shots of tequila. By the time he brought up seeing Batman at the IMAX the next day, I had some pretty warm cheeks. I agreed to do so. By the time we actually made it back to his house, I had had two too many drinks, and ordered the tickets online, right then. If only I had been thinking.

And it was a cool experience, really. I mean, IMAX movies are always cool in my opinion. I enjoy them immensely. But it was the third. time. I. have. seen. it. The first time, on a date with movie store guy, was fun. We went to a matinee. It was exciting—you didn’t know what was coming next. I loved it. The second time was with some girlfriends. Again—decent. Started making connections—recognizing the foreshadowing that you don’t see the first time around…

The third time, IMAX and all, was enough. More than enough. Too much. I had lines memorized basically. I can imitate the Joker’s laugh, and it’s good. I closed my eyes when the guy broke his legs on the fall off the building. I knew exactly which point it was when Rachel was going to be blown to smithereens. I knew that Harvey Dent was going to wake up without half of his face, and that the commissioner was actually alive. I knew all of this before it actually happened. Now, tell me, why did I think it would be a good idea to see it a 3rd time? The repetitiveness of it all has pretty much spoiled the movie for me, and I doubt I will ever need to watch it again in my life. We should have stayed at the casino playing video poker, drinking rum and coke, and losing to the slot machines.

Yes, I know. My dad is cool.

Wacky Wednesday

2008-07-30T17:14:00.000-05:00

This hasn’t exactly been the most amazing day.

Last night I dreamed, for some reason, that my house flooded and my room filled up with sewage. It was disgusting, naturally. And quite the dream to wake up to at 3 am.

Then, I didn't get up until 7:30. This is a problem when you have to be at work at 8. So, I threw on wrinkled clothes and didn’t even get to wash my hair. It was pretty classy.

Finally, I made it to work at 5 after 8, only to find out that my friend had a dream too. A dream about me. And an affair I was having. With. John. McCain. Honestly. John. McCain. Of all people. How could my friend even dream this? How would these thoughts even pass into her mind? I mean, come on, I think I deserve a little more credit than that. She should know I would never have an affair with a republican! Anyway, I guess that he dropped out of the presidential race because of our little tryst. And, People Magazine offered me 50 million dollars for the story—which I gleefully accepted. After this story, I was snapped back into reality and realized that I was sitting here, in my office, smelling a little bit like B.O. and nowhere near 50 million dollars richer.

Then, my friend dropped in, surprisingly, to say hi! It was a great surprise as he is living nearly 5 hours away. I was super happy to see him and then he says that he has been in town for 5 days—at this point, I realize that he didn’t bother to call for FIVE DAYS! I then got in a big fight with him and told him to jump off the 3rd floor of the building. He declined. Sadly.

This afternoon I was having a conversation with one of my coworkers because he has seemed a little anti-social lately. He’s been on a Slim-Fast diet for the last few weeks and so I figured he was just hungry. We talked about it and he said that he wasn’t. So, I said, well, I think you could stand to get a little more social, you know, like you used to be….he said, “I think you could go die.” I think he was serious.

So, that’s sort of just how today’s been going. Hopefully the evening brings a little more light. I’m going to go for a run. Odds are I’ll break an ankle or get hit by a car.

Shopping!

2008-07-29T08:49:00.001-05:00

This morning I went shopping. In my closet. I was wearing my sassy yellow and black and white dress to work. I decided I needed to switch up my normal black slides for something a little sassier. I pulled out shoe after shoe after shoe, realizing that when I wear the same pair virtually every day, I forget about the things I already have. And, dang it, I have some cute shoes. And too many of them. I believe, like many other women, in the power of a cute shoe. Whether I am feeling bloated or my hair won't do what I want it to, my feet are never too fat or too ugly to fit into the perfect shoe. I am sometimes just in too big of a hurry to think about them and go with the same shoe, day after day.

So, I am sitting there, thinking, “Self, you have good taste. Why don’t you wear these more often? How could you possibly forget about a shoe like this?”

Seriously, it was like going to the mall.

“I think I’ll take these!” -- “Oh, wait, they’re already MINE! Bwhahahahaha!”

So, today, my sassy yellow dress is paired with a sassy black kitten heel—a kitten heel who is so happy to be seeing the summer sun for the first time this year—a kitten heel who, up until today, was drowning in the depths of despair contemplating shoe suicide at the back of my closet from months of neglect.

Some may call this ridiculous—to have shoes you forget about—maybe you should have less shoes (I can hear my dad in the back of my mind)—but, I think this is just a gal’s way of planting little accidental surprises—finding shoes, my dear friends, is serendipitous.

I believe it’s pure bliss to find something you forgot about. To discover 20 bucks in the jacket you haven’t worn for a year, or your favorite lip gloss tucked discretely into an old bag, or, of course, to find that little black heel you didn’t even realize you’d been desperately missing…

Ugh.

2008-07-28T15:27:00.002-05:00

First thing's first: I'm a brunette. And I'm loving it.

Secondly, I am dragging arse today. It was possibly the longest day of my work life, ever. It was virtually impossible to drag my lazy self out of bed this morning and all I wanted to do was sleep for 20 more minutes because I had stayed up too late reading New Moon (the 2nd of the Twilight books).

I learned a valuable lesson this weekend...if you party with people who have children, be prepared to wake up at 6 am. Now, I know this. I have lived this lesson a thousand times since my niece has been born, but this is the first time I have really actually felt like I got run over by a bus, thrown off an over-pass, and had my brain scraped through a cheese-grater. I feel like hell today and the only thing I can relate it back to is the staying up far too late, and drinking far too much on Saturday night, only to find out that people with children somehow become super human and go to bed at 2am, only to wake up four hours later completely rested and acting totally normal. It is beyond me.

I should have known better--if I had, I would have been to bed early last night. I would have put the book down , stopped thinking about Edward and Bella, and drifted into a peaceful sleep. I wouldn't have drank that last beer on Saturday, and I would have come home and went straight to bed for a nap on Sunday. What was I thinking? Oh, that's right, I'm 23, and I can.

I think I am getting old. It is because of this that my body doesn't function as it used to. And, I know, I'm only 23. It must suck to get even older.

Twilight

2008-07-25T09:39:00.002-05:00

I decided, this week, after a lot of consideration, that I was going to read the Twilight series. I had heard a ton about it and how it’s addictiveness is something comparable to the likes of Harry Potter. I can tell you, this is true.

For the last two days I have done nothing but read this book and work. At lunch, before work, and in all the hours after work before I go to bed, I was reading. You see, it’s one of those books that you absolutely cannot read with a critical eye—it’s fun, just have fun with it. Last night, I finished it and started the second. They are large books—5 to 600 pages, but they read quite quickly, especially if you devote your life and all your free time to getting through them (except for the two hours this week that you reserved for the latest episodes of Project Runway and Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D List)…

Anyway, I can see why people are crazy over it—especially the teenage audience it was intended for. I wouldn’t be surprised if dentists were getting millions of calls from teens asking for Dracula like teeth. One of my coworkers asked me if I was going to do that--the teeth thing. I told him I had thought about it, but I didn’t want to go through with it unless I was able to fill them with venom. His reply, “Oh, you have venom.” I think he was trying to offend me. If I had venom, he’d be the first to go. *Joking—but seriously*

Last night I dreamed I was in love with a vampire. It was odd. I think he bit me.

And, back to yesterday’s conversation about the hair—I think dark brown would be better for this vampiresque thing I am going through right now…

Odds are this stage will only last through the series, and the fourth book is coming out early next month, so maybe I will hold off on the darkest brown…

Plus, I am heeding Porter’s threat via Lauren very seriously—I don’t want to be sleeping on the streets during my visit to New York…the vampires will get you out there…on the other hand…the vampires will get you out there. And, if the NYC vampires are as hot as the picture of Edward Cullen that I have in my head, I’ll take my chances. Granted, Edward Cullen is only 17—I’d like my vampire to be legal, at least.

HELP ME!

2008-07-24T08:58:00.003-05:00

Alright folks. It's time for a change. I know, you've heard it all before, but this time it's different. I'm not talking about giving up booze or boys--because we all know how poorly that worked out for me. So, here's the thing. I'm bored with my hair, and I need your help. See picture:

So, now I am trying to decide where to go from here. Nothing really scares me when it comes to my hair--except for that time that I accidentally died it midnight black. Everything else is fair game. So, should i go back to slightly dark? Or real dark:Back to red:
Or really blonde again? This is a survey, people. I expect your comments on this very serious, and lifechanging topic. Choose wisely.

*The Jamie Show will be back to normal posting tomorrow*

I think he actually exists...

2008-07-21T11:50:00.001-05:00

People call me picky. I’m too apt to find flaws, they say. I don’t put myself out there enough. I date the wrong guys. I date the right guys and refuse to keep them. I disagree.

I’ve dated and dated and dated. I’ve put myself out there. I stalked the random video store guy into giving me his number in an extremely creepy fashion. But, one thing that remains the same—me, deciding he isn’t right, and moving on.

There’s always something. For some people it may not be a deal breaker. For me, it is. One might not give me enough space to be my own person, I feel stifled. I don’t want to make my life’s decisions around what he thinks or feels—yes, I’m selfish. I’m 23 and selfish and I don’t apologize for that. Another two might be perfect on paper, but the spark is just not there. They both should have been perfect—they had the same dreams, the same itch to travel, nice families, good looking guys—it should have worked with at least one of them. Not so much. Another one might be like talking to a rock, even though he is terribly cute. Another is perfect in the fact that he is rarely around—which was only screwed up by his disappearance...his taking himself out of my life without my permission or my knowledge. I might have stuck that one out a little longer. And, another one, well, he might just be too nice. I feel like if I can’t be honest in telling him that last Friday I got off work at 1 in the afternoon, started drinking with a friend at 2, and drank all night long because I am afraid of his judgment…well, where’s the honesty there? I don’t want to hide the person I am. I don’t want to hide the occasional afternoon of binge drinking. You get the picture.

I miss the spark. I know it exists. I know I have felt it before—and I have felt it deeply. That emotion that is unexplainable, and makes you believe that you cannot spend a day without this person. That every free second you want to either be with him or be on the phone with him. The one that makes you appear so stupidly in love that strangers get jealous. I know that feeling (I just knew it with the wrong guy). And I’m not going to settle for less. But, is it possible that I've lost it? The ability to let someone spark? To spark with someone? What if it's gone, completely...

Call me picky if you must, but I don’t think it should be so hard. Yes, it gets old. Being alone—being the single girl at the outings. Watching your friends live their relationships—the good and the bad. Knowing that someone is going to be there when you don’t want to drive home, or go to the store for you when you’re sick—I do miss that. It would be nice to have someone around no matter what—if I picked up the phone, he’d be there. But I don’t want that with the wrong person. It shouldn’t be that hard to find the person you enjoy just as much one on one as you do in a group of friends; that person who makes you laugh all the time; the one who you can be just as happy with reading a book on the couch, or out at the bar. The guy who knows your feet get hot, and buys you a Heath Bar on his way home from work (who needs flowers? Give me chocolate!), the one who knows you take your coffee black and your wine red, and that you have the weirdest opinion about cheese. I think I have found many of these things in several different guys, but all along, that spark never surfaces, and I am always able, if not eager, to let them go.

I keep holding out for one—not even necessarily “the one,” but just one who really seems to fit…and I think he actually exists…

Iowa Summers

2008-07-20T17:47:00.003-05:00

I know I complain about living in Iowa a ton. No one is ever surprised to hear about me rambling on about how badly I want to get out of this place--to pack my bags and see more of the world. To satisfy the "itch" that keeps me wondering and wanting to move. I know. This is true...however, this weekend, I thought differently.

Friday was different. Friday I made myself think differently about the place I spend my days and the place I lay my head at night. I think I took this place for granted, up until Friday (and I am sure I will many more times in the future). After getting off work early I went home to hang out with my dear friend Sara and her BF. We were just hanging out and decided to go for a drive to the lake. We packed a cooler of beer and headed out. Windows down, and the breeze blowing through our hair...

The lake was perfectly still--it would have been like a mirror, shining my reflection straight back at me as the pink-gold of the setting sun settled in on my face. The only thing reminding me that it was, in fact, water, was the occasional glimpse of a little minnow getting brave enough to leave the shelter the dock was providing him. It was perfect. I lay my head down, and look across the water, so high it was like I was simply laying on it--not on this old rickety dock.

On the way home we decided to take gravel--we turned up the Tim McGraw, rolled the windows down, and let the wind hit our faces and run it's fingers through our hair. It was, to me, a picture perfect moment, where there was nothing to see but the bright green of the rolling hills, the pastures, and the fields of corn readying themselves for the harvest. If you could have taken a snapshot of me at my happiest this year--even if only for a fleeting moment, that would have been it--me, in the back seat, watching the sun set over the lush green hills with a little country music ringing in my ears...I should probably give this place a little more credit!

Softball

2008-07-18T08:30:00.002-05:00

Slow pitch softball started last night! Yay! A DOUBLE HEADER! I would just like to fill you all in on my post from my second softball game last year--so you get an idea of just how athletic I actually am. So, here's a trip down memory lane...

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Take Me out to the Ballgame

No, I mean, take me out OF the ball game....Last night was my second game of slow-pitch softball on a league I've joined. It was gorgeous outside yesterday, until about 7:00--our game was at 7:15. I got there at about a quarter to 7 so that i could stretch, jog a bit, and get ready to play. By game time, it had gotten windy, cold, the sky turned into these nasty looking black clouds, and was starting to rain just a bit. We were up 6-3 or something close to that in the 3rd inning, and it was my second time up to bat. I was thrown a bunch of balls, and eventually was walked to first base. Pretty uneventful, right? That's what I thought too...Then, Ali gets up to bat. We've got two outs, and Eric, my first base coach says "You're running on anything." Okay, cool, I can do that.

So, Ali hits the ball, and I tear off running for second base. Steps one, two, and three are fine, but on step four, I am certain my life is going to end. Imagine taking both hands, sticking them into your thigh, and then pulling the muscle in opposite directions--that's pretty much what this felt like. My right leg hurt so bad that it was all I could do to walk back to the dug-out (we had an extra girl playing last night so I was rotating innings--I was sitting out), and got to the bench where I held my breath and rocked back and forth for several minutes occasionally gasping for breath, before the pain subsided a little.

Finally, innings are switching up, my team comes back, someone gets me some ice, but it's pretty apparent that I am going to be sitting out for the rest of the game.Then, it gets better. It is my turn up to bat again, and if I don't bat they get an automatic out. So the idea is that I go, bat, get on base, and then we put in someone else to run for me. Uh huh, this is going to work really well--I'm thinking I'll just hit one out of the park, because then I can gimp around the bases, and it will take at least 15 minutes for me to get home. If you know me at all, you know my idea here is ridiculous.

Anyway, I hobble out there, strike out, and hobble back into the dug out, bruised and humiliated...The drive home was fine. As long as I drove cautiously and used only my heel to move my foot from pedal to pedal, I was fine. Any emergent stops, though, that required lifting my leg, were pretty much excruciating. And, to make things even better, it's 4 flights up stairs to make my way to my bed. I'd've sooner eaten nails than make that trek again. After a night of ice packs and laying around, Ibuprofen, and sleep, I've woken up feeling sore, but much, much better.
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I am proud to let you know that last night, no serious injuries occurred! I only struck out once two whole games. We blew the first team out of the park, and the second team beat us by one run. All in all, it was a good night--and the rain held off until two minutes after our game had ended!

Here's to getting off my lazy arse and doing something this summer!

Me at 23

2008-07-17T07:58:00.000-05:00

So, I recently started a project at work—an introduction letter. A letter about me and my experiences to tell my “clients” about my life and my experiences. Obviously I am writing with a different perspective than I would if I were writing to my friends—or someone who could be my friend—or someone who knew nothing about me, but it was completely unrelated to my job…

Then I got to thinking about Sara Jane’s Borrowing Blogging Brilliance—a long survey about herself. I stole it and tried to fill it out for me, but I never got it done…

Which leads me to this—my letter. My letter about me.

I am 23. I am constantly searching for complacency. I am a wonderer, a wanderer, a writer and a reader. I don’t know that I will ever be satisfied—and in a way, I am totally okay with it. This itch to know and do—to move however ungraceful I may be, it’s what keeps me going. Granted, I may complain about it a lot, but I wouldn’t change this “itch” for anything.

I appreciate my family more now than I ever have in life. They are fun to be around, and I have fully recognized that. Of course, they drive me nuts sometimes, and the good ole’ guilt trip from dad for not making it to his place on the weekend is still often in place, but really, they’re pretty cool people. My niece is pretty spectacular, too. It’s weird to think that a year and a half ago, she just wasn’t here…I think one of the coolest transititons I have experienced in my family was when my sister became one of my very best friends. I am also very grateful for the rest of my friends—they are some of the greatest people I have ever known.

I think traveling in college changed my worldview. Living in London was amazing, but visiting the slums in Bangkok was definitely an eye opening experience. I’ve been to something like 10 or 12 countries, and am no longer afraid of what else is out there. This has also left me with an unbelievable urge to go and see more.

I’m pretty bad at letting people in. I think I am independent almost to a fault. I’ve made myself believe that I don’t need anyone, and so I am not very likely to let them even try…This also explains my single-hood and inability to let anything go past a 6th date.

I am quite liberal. Let the gays get married, I say. And keep your hands off my biology. You get the picture. Go Hillary! We'll see you in 2012, girl! Suck it, conservatives.

I want to go to graduate school so badly I can taste it. My problem lies in what to study.

I have an extreme fear of disappointing people. Thus, I am one of the most loyal friends you’ll ever have. I once passed up a free trip to Mexico so I wouldn’t let my partner down in representing Kazakhstan in a Model UN competition.

I am terribly sarcastic. Sometimes I offend people. I’m really only trying to have fun. Honest.

My best friend from my childhood is still my best friend in adulthood. She’s in NYC and we chat basically daily. She challenges me. She doesn’t let me see my world through rose-colored glasses. She’s always there for me—she always has been and always will be. Even though sometimes we have gone for months at a time without speaking—once we pick back up, it’s just like nothing ever changed. I can't wait to visit her in August!

I have a ridiculous obsession with my music. Especially Missy Higgins. She’s amazing. You should probably check her out—especially all you girls who like depressing ballads—this music is for you.

I enjoy weird TV shows: Deadliest Catch, Black Gold, Kathy Griffin: My life on the D list, Ace of Cakes, Ice Road Truckers, etc. Mostly anything that isn’t on a network station.

Sex and the City changed my life.

I play on a softball league, and am not in the least athletic.

I love blogging. I often wish I could think of meaningful things to blog about, but usually just end up with random stories about my life. I think it’s a great tool to keep a journal as far as where I am on this day and read back through, but also to keep my friends updated. It’s a creative outlet—a place where I’m quite certain I can be myself and ignore your judgment—because if you don’t like it, stop reading!

That’s me. At 23. In a nutshell. I want a lot. I think a lot. I have loved a lot. I have lost a lot. I wonder a lot. I have plans to do a lot. I have a lot to be thankful for. And day to day, I try to live all of this with grace...

Movie Night

2008-07-15T07:33:00.000-05:00

I have to apologize for the recent hiatus in my blogging! I just got back from girl-cation which turned out to be an amazing time at the lake—boating, chatting, drinking, eating, tubing—it was awesome!

And exhausting. Which is why my roommate and I decided that last night would be a perfect movie night. We needed a little time to catch up on our relaxation, so we left work at a decent time, went home and immediately changed into our scrubby clothes. The plan was to get a movie and go to the grocery store to get something for dinner.

We’re wandering the movie store trying to decide what to find and eventually go with Stop-Loss and 27 Dresses. I approach the counter, and give this good looking movie store guy my account number, and we are chatting a little bit—he asks about our weekend, etc. We leave.

On the way to the car, S and I are about dying over the absolute cute-ness that movie store guy is. I am dying about the fact that movie store guy is totally cute and I am totally nasty in my scrubby clothes, hair up, sweaty look. I decide that she MUST call the movie store and get movie store guy’s number…

The DVD cases don’t have the freaking phone number on them—what kind of customer service is THAT? So, we call B.

“B—it’s an emergency…well, not really an actual emergency, but in my world, there is some serious shit happening. I really need the phone number to the movie store.”

“Okay, why?”

“Because the guy behind the counter is totally a hottie and I want to date him. I’m making S call him back!”

“Let me look it up online…”

Done.

I give S the number, and it’s freaking BUSY! She tries and tries and tries. All the while, I am trying to convince myself that this is what single 23 year old gals are supposed to be doing. It's not creepy at all, I think--totally normal...or totally screwed up, either way. Anyway, I tell S if she can't get through I am driving her butt back there and she is going in to do this in person!

Surprisingly, she agrees.

We can’t get through on the line, so I head back in the other direction. I park at the business next door because I am too flipping embarrassed to park out front, and we get S pumped up to go back in! I, of course, ask her to tell him that if this is totally not normal, or he's not okay with this, or if he's married, to please not judge because I would really like to rent movies there again.

And, she goes in— although I basically have to scream at her and literally kick her out of the car and threaten to end our friendship--I mean, with only minor hesitation.

Moments pass…

I’m about dying inside…

I call my sister…

All of the sudden, movie store guy, followed by S, are walking over to the furthest window, and he waves, and slaps a sheet of paper with his name and phone number on it to the window…

Really dying now.

I have to go in.

So, I do.

And we chat for a few more minutes.

We leave. I am still dying. Still in nasty clothes. But I have his number. And he has mine.

“He probably won’t call,” I think—even so, that was fun!

Fast forward: 10:47 last night—he’s leaving work…my phone rings…

He says, "I checked, and you don't have any late fees..."

(To Be Continued…)

I survived!

2008-07-08T09:55:00.004-05:00

Well. My parents didn’t get remarried at the lake this weekend—which was one of my concerns going into this trip. I thought, “Self, what if this is a big set-up and they are going to ambush you all with a shotgun wedding before your new little sister is born?”

Rest assured, that didn’t happen. And my mom’s not pregnant. At least not as far as I know. I felt like I should just throw that out there. They both did, however, get incredibly drunk on red wine and scotch. Thankfully, their rooms were on a floor separate from everyone else’s (peculiar? I think so), so whatever went down with them stays on that floor and no one has to be the wiser—thank the sweet lord in heaven.

After a really long car ride we finally made it. My brother in law made the fatal error of missing our turn, and before we knew it, we were 40 miles from St. Louis--completely out of our way. We took windy creepy country roads and waited for creepy men with chainsaws to jump out of the bushes and spread our limbs over several different states and hamburger buns. We did, however, get to see a dog on the roof, and I don't know where you hang out, but I have never seen that before!

The highlights of the weekend would probably have to include this freaking amazing house. It is a 6 bedroom, 8 bathroom mammoth, with a salt water pool, firepit, hot tub, and lakefront property—oh, did I mention it’s actually on an island with 6 other houses? Yeah, it was sweet. My room now has a special little nook in my heart—that’s how much I loved it. It was complete with a gigantic bathroom, huge walk-in closet, sitting room, and bedroom that sat 4 stairs above the rest of my kingdom. Also, once you shut both doors, the rest of the house was no longer a concern. You could hear nothing. Flip those blackout blinds, and life was good.

One afternoon, we were all in the pool looking down at the lake when this boat full of tubers came by. We yelled down at them to see if we could mooch a ride—and get this, they obliged! So, my little sister, friend Allison and I ran down to the water, flailed out to the tube, flailed on to the tube, and flailed the entire time we were on this awesome ride with complete strangers!

Additionally, my brother in law, and his friend John both shared a wet Speedo. It was the creepiest thing I have ever seen. In fact, both of them ended up running around naked on the deck at some point in the weekend. It was, by far, the most disturbing thing that has ever happened to me.

We spent three glorious days floating around in the pool and three balmy nights in the hot tub drinking fruity drinks, and eating fantastic food. It is, however, no wonder that everyone on this trip had to booze themselves into numbness for three straight days to overcome the awkwardness that the annual family vacation has become.

Here are pictures of Emerson and my little boyfriend Oliver! They're so cute!!!!!

The Big Apple

2008-07-02T07:54:00.000-05:00

Big things happened yesterday people! Big things! The best of the big things--me, spending an obscene amount of money on a plane ticket. From here to NYC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am leaving in August to spend several fun filled days with my all time best friend in the city where she now lives!

I have never been to NYC but I am already convinced I will love it. I think NYC and I, we're kindred spirits--soulmates, just waiting for fate to bring us together. And now, the time has come... Plus, it will be great to see my bestie after a really long stretch of time without setting eyes on her cute little face! We've been besties since pom-poms. Seriously.

Then we went through middle school---we were both pretty awkward. We grew out of it eventually (at least I think we did).

And high school. Oh, for the love of high school. I hated high school. Lauren loved it. It was weird. Mostly we drove around at night, looking for something to do, smoking cigarettes we had pawned off of someone who was old enough to buy them. Typically, we'd end up with a car full of people and if we weren't en route to go drinkin' at a party, we were likely in a random cemetery or old abandoned building scaring the crap out of ourselves. We were country kids, through and through!

We had separate groups of friends for a while...but we always remained best friends. We vacationed together, had graduation parties together, basically lived together on the weekends--and during the week, really! She was the one that was there for me when our guy friends attacked me and put bbq sauce in my hair, and I was the one that I was there for her when Michael Salas broke her heart. (You know it's true, Lauren.)

We went to college 12 hours away from each other. Took a really great roadtrip to Texas over spring break our sophomore year which was complete with ridiculous camp sites, townie bars that thought we were old enough to drink, Kenny Chesney for 20 hours straight, Shirley singing karaoke to Britney Spears, learning to two step, scorpions, running out of gas on a lonesome Texas road...it's actually a miracle we lived through that trip. Otherwise we just waited for Christmas and summer breaks to get back in touch. We could go months without talking, but every single time we got back in touch it was exactly as it used to be. Just like nothing ever changed. (**This is a picture of us over Christmas break a couple of years ago, I think. I'm on the right, and Lauren is on the left! Another one of our good friends, Megan, is in the middle!**)

So, here's to the impending trip to NYC and reuniting two besties!

Also: expect a post or two from the lake this weekend. Awkward family vacation part deux commences in less than 24 hours. Yikes!!!!!!!

Date #2

2008-06-30T18:14:00.000-05:00

Well, friends. I've got news. Date #2 happened. *big sigh*

It was a picturesque date. He invited me to his house to hang out and grill some food. Sounded lovely. It was a fantastic Iowa summer day where the trees stand still and the sky is the brightest blue you've ever seen. It was a perfect idea. There was only one problem: there was nothing for us to talk about. I'm not sure why, because I can talk. I don't even usually have to try to talk. It's something that comes naturally to me. I don't know what happened. For three hours yesterday I sat at his house...drinking...eating...listening to music. It was actually quite a nice setting--out on the porch, listening to some Death Cab on the iPod, having a couple of drinks--and truly the only thing missing was conversation.

How could we have been all talked out already? I mean, HONESTLY! WE HAD SPENT ONLY TWO HOURS TOGETHER LAST WEEK AND NOW WE GOT TOGETHER AND HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO SPEAK ABOUT?? HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?? Nothing. I mean, we got through it all--hobbies, hangouts, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, vacations, books, movies, music, food--everything. Done.

And, initially, when I went over there, the idea was that we would grill out and watch a movie or something (aka: make out *don't you judge me!*). Anyway, I'm in the middle of eating this fantastic kabob when out of his mouth comes the clincher of the afternoon:

boy: So, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?
me: *okay! looks like this one is going nowhere* "actually, big plans--going to see some friends and hang out--play some yard games, a typical Sunday evening." *thinking: "yeah, right--hello laundry and dishes....dear self, you're four cats, two frozen pizzas and a pack of menthol Virginia Slims away from living a life of solitude--please don't do yourself in."
boy:oh, cool.
me: Yeah, what about you? What are you going to do?
boy: oh, well, you know, my buddy called and he's having people over...blah blah...heard: I'm really not that into you, please drink your drink, eat your food and get the hell out of my house so I can hang out with my friends...

Lets just say that it was a very long few hours. In fact, it was one of the most uncomfortable dates I've ever been on. Typically, there's something to talk about, and usually after people have a drink or so, they start to losen up and can talk about virtually anything. Not so much, my friends. I was on a date with a mute.

And it's so confusing--because if that was the case, if he truly wasn't that into me, why follow up with a text talking about how much fun you had and wanting to hang out again sometime? I don't get it!!!!!!!!!!!! Have I told you how much I LOVE dating?

It's quite a shame, too, because he's flippin' cute.

Bug!

2008-06-28T10:39:00.000-05:00

I'm spending the weekend with the little bug, and I don't think I've shown any of you pictures of her recently, so here she is...

How could anyone say no to a face like that?

Attitude with your lunch? Hanging in the dining room...
Chillin' in the car watching a movie and munching--seriously, it's a rough life...

And, finally, Emerson being all Hollywood...

We're swimming this afternoon, and as the old adage goes, when the cat's away the mice will play...so, I think while mom and dad are gone, I will probably get her all jacked up on Mountain Dew and popsicles, and feed her everything her mother would never allow! Hahahaha, best aunt ever!

Family Vacation Take Deux

2008-06-27T16:17:00.000-05:00

*Some of the details of this story have been altered. Mom and Dad and Sisters, if you read this, I apologize and it was intended for entertainment purposes only. I swear.*

Our family vacation over the fourth of July is something I've been looking forward to since the first day the plans went into action. And by looking forward to, I mean I would rather be waterboarded. We are going to the lake of the Ozarks in MO. The whole family (mom, dad, big sis, little sis, BIL and baby) and some friends are coming. And you wonder why I might be a little anxious about this impending vacation? I mean, I should be used to it as we did the same thing last year...

One detail that is important to the story: mom and dad have been divorced since I was 8, and well, the truth of the matter is, they didn't much get along. It was in the years following their divorce that I learned of my mom's belief in voodoo and my dad's ability to shoot lazers out of his eyes while eating kittens...

Last summer they decided to get along, and the family vacation ensued with both of them. It was, as far as I remember, the first time they've spent more than a day together in the same house since they got divorced. For us girls, it amounted to--awkward!

BIL typically passes out at 4:30 in the afternoon, and when he's not passed out by the pool, he gets bored easily as he can't actually get into the pool since the medicine he is taking for his syphilis (or gonorrhea...I dunno) reacts strangely with the chlorine.

Big sis is usually drinking something with a pretty straw or a little umbrella with her gigantic sunglasses on, and laying out on a layer of aluminum foil with SPF 4 on working on becoming a bronze goddess.

Little sis is angstily texting someone. And hating the rest of us.

Baby is throwing a fit over something and when you try to get her in the pool she screams. Take her out, she screams. Feed her, she screams. Give her water, she screams. Change her diaper, she screams. She's usually screaming.

Dad is probably at the grill with his hand around a glass of scotch as mom is drinking red straight out of the bottle by the pool bar.

I am usually scrounging for prescription meds in everyone's luggage and seeing what kind of cocktails I can put together to get myself through the four days...Please, people, pack the good stuff!

So here's to the 4th with the family. It's always interesting...

Team Griffin

2008-06-27T15:39:00.000-05:00

I've decided that it's time for my life to be headed in a different direction. I need a new goal--something to be working towards. As I was sitting and watching television the other night, I had an epiphany. I decided exactly where I need to go--where my life needs to be headed. I decided, after a lot of thinking, what I need to do.

I need to be Kathy Griffin's new assistant. I need to join Team Griffin. Seriously. Kathy needs another member of the team. And that person is me. It would be a win win for both of us. Kathy is hilarious. She makes me laugh. She says the off color things I wish I could say, but only think. She's sarcastic. She's raunchy. She's fantastic. And if I worked for her, I would get that interaction daily. I would also get to travel, and I'm sure I'd laugh a bit. She also gave her staff brand new blackberrys and I am sure I would get one of those. Plus I would get to move to California and hang out in her sweet house.

And, well, she needs me, too. I'm funny. I know how to work. I know how to travel. I'd make a good groupie. I'd laugh at her jokes and boost her ego on a daily basis. I would also tell her when her hair looks shitty which is something her current staff is lacking on. I would drink wine with her mom--even if Maggie wanted it out of a box, I would take that bullet.

So, I need a few ideas as to how to go about landing this job. I've decided I will blog about Kathy regularly, and possibly email her every day for a year (a la the Notebook) and hope she reads them. Maybe I'll even send her snail mail. Aside from that, I am out of ideas, but I suppose it's a start.

Happy Friday, from the newest soon to be member of Team Griffin.

Dating Rocks...not

2008-06-26T15:23:00.000-05:00

Dating, in my opinion, is neither all that fun, or comfortable, or graceful. Typically, I am very open about telling people how much I hate it. I hate the first moment you meet a new person. Or the first moment on a first date. I hate the awkward silence, and the moments that sit between questions when you have both run out of the ones you had planned out in your head and you're scrambling for more! I hate craving familiarity--wishing he just knew what kind of beer I liked, or just knew that my feet get hot, or just knew that I like my milk nearly frozen, or just knew I don't really like cheese, or just knew that I like to sleep with the fan on...I wish he just knew.

However--I love the end of first dates. The time where you actually get into real conversation and have discovered some of your common interests and your similarities. When you can keep talking and talking and talking. I like that.

I've been on several first dates these past 6 or 7 months. Some of them continued into 2nd and 3rd and 7th dates--others went nowhere. But, at the end of it, after all of these first dates, one thing remains--me, alone. But I'm always hopeful...(shh--don't tell anyone).

Last night was another first date. I had time to grab a couple of drinks and some appetizers before I came over to my sister's with a really nice guy. I found him at one of my favorite places downtown, and he was SO NICE. Funny, sweet, very cute. We had a lot in common, and I left hoping...hoping I'd see him again; hoping this one would be different; just hoping...because as much as I claim to be anti-relationships, I think I'm more "anti-settling-for-the-one-I'm-not-absolutely-freakin-smitten-over." And I don't want to apologize--if I'm not feeling "it" it's likely not going to happen, and I'm not going to prolong it. That's what it is...I think. Maybe I don't know. There is, of course, also the possibility that I don't have a damn clue.

Anyway--here's to a second date--I'll keep you posted.

Wednesday Storytime!

2008-06-24T09:49:00.000-05:00

I've decided to start a Wednesday feature--called Storytime! Yay!!! I know, you're all excited. Anyway, random stories, actually put into story time. They might be true, they might not. They might be remnants of my days scratched onto paper, they might not. They are what they are, and they're here for your literary enjoyment! Here's number 1!

*************

They’d been seeing each other for a month or two. Nothing serious, just casual. Hanging out, grilling out, making out. Nothing serious. Nothing serious at least twice a week.

They’d spoken on the phone only twice during this whole relationship. She loved it that way—she hates the phone. They usually made their dates via text—this is what the 21st century has done to dating. And I use the term “dating” casually. He took her out for dinner once, but usually they just drank wine and watched Family Guy at his place—occasionally he cooked. It was the perfect courting relationship, she thought.

She didn’t have time to do this whole six hours a day on the phone, hanging out nightly, in constant contact lovey-dovey shit. She just didn’t. She was 23 and had a “life,” and goals and dreams and all that other stuff—duh. This, in her mind, was again, perfect. He was cute, had a dry, sarcastic personality, drank red wine, was a good cook, had a job, a house, you know—important stuff.

And her best friend said he should feel the same. “You’re the least needy girl I know—you hang out when you feel like it, but you’re not begging for it. You’re funny, you drink, you’re easy,” *conversation interrupted by a punch in the gut* “I’m totally joking about that one! But seriously, you’re like the girl every guy *thinks* they want.”

So, after three weeks of no contact, she started to wonder what was going on? Six beers into an evening, she did exactly what she wasn’t supposed to do—she texted. The skies became cloudy, and the heavens wept as lightning crashed into the ground and the whole town started on fire—she knew she shouldn’t have done that.

June 2, 2008:
MSG1: Hey—what’s up? Where you been?
Reply: Oh, just got home from a badminton tournament.
MSG2: We should hang out sometime—just an idea.
Reply: Yeah, totally, we should—but I’m kindof in overtime right now and things at work are busy and I don’t get home til like 7 at night and you live like 20 minutes away and it’s just like, so far, and it’s busy…
MSG3: Okay! That’s cool… (a lady never begs)
Reply: I mean, I’m not like trying to tell you anything—like it's not that I don’t want to hang out anymore, I’m just really busy.
MSG4: Sure, no biggie. I mean, I can drive at night thanks to that lovely invention called headlights, but it’s cool…when do you think you’ll be free/unbusy/not playing badminton?
Reply: Yeah, I mean, I don’t really know—probably in the middle of July?

*She tightly held on to hope* and soon enough, her guardian angel swept down and kicked the shit out of her while screaming—He’s just NOT that into you—for heavens sake, even I read the book! Get a CLUE!

I'm a BLOGGER!

2008-06-24T09:34:00.000-05:00

My best friend and I were g-chatting the other day as we sometimes do to keep in touch. For those of you who don’t know—g-chat is instant messaging through Gmail. So, we’re chatting about blogging. She’s telling me she just can’t get into it (she’s been trying for a while)—you don’t have to, I respond. She says she can’t get into this journaling, soul searching, growth thing. I understand why she thinks that because I think that’s what a lot of people do when they blog…I sometimes do, but mostly I don’t. I do it to have an open forum—to write my stories and to keep my friends updated about what’s going on in my life. Sure, there’s some thoughtful stuff, some pathetic pity-party stuff, but mostly I try to write funny, snarky, upbeat stuff.

Plus, I love the community of friends that my little bubble in the blogosphere has created! I know that GB may not make it by every day, but she back-reads as many as she missed and comments on them all! E will either affirm my choices or give me a virtual slap across the face to get me back on track and Kellan always leaves a comment that makes me smile. Sara Jane typically feels my pain as far as life as a single 20-something goes, and my new reader Mary encourages my desire to have a little fun! Jamie and I share a name, but have a ton more in common. And these are just the people that comment regularly! I look forward to staying in contact with these people, and I’ve never met a single one of them, and they’re all scattered across the United States. It’s fun to find people and get a glimpse into their lives. To form friendships over shared stories just as if you were gossiping with your girls—this is that, too…only in a completely different form!

I also love to keep my friends in the loop—to tell our stories and make them laugh over how I might have altered the details or added a dramatic flair here or there—or even tell the honest truth about a story that was funny enough at the time that it doesn’t need any edits! I love when Beth reads and leaves a smart ass comment for me and I always love to read my Autumn’s rebuttals to the latest tale I’ve told about her. On the few occasions when Sara comments, they’re typically funny! Kara rarely comments, but she reads every day--and when I need the support of a good friend, or relationship advice, she's usually my first call. Lauren just went back through and read the entire thing since she last read and commented on every one—that’s awesome to me! I love me some comments! I’d totally be a comment whore if that was possible—is it?

I blog because I love to write. I blog because it’s my little outlet—my corner of the universe. Somedays I consider it an art—a crafting of words that I want to get better and better at. I blog because I love it! Why do YOU blog? And if you don't blog--what makes you read?

Vacation! (sortof)

2008-06-23T10:00:00.000-05:00

I don’t know if I have told you all yet, but I love summer. Seriously. It’s great. I love opening the windows and letting the air filter through the house drenching everything in the fresh air! I love sitting outside and reading a book, or lying by the pool dozing in and out. I love hanging out on the deck or sitting in a porch swing and eating loads and loads of ice cream. I love drinking margaritas, long walks on the beach, men that are tall dark and handsome—oh shit, this is starting to sound like a personal ad—where was I?

Oh, right, what I love about summer--well that nearly sums it up, so I suppose I should follow with what I DON'T love about summer: WORK. Especially when your older sister and BIL have slack jobs where they simply don't work during the summer. And, since they have to pay for day care anyway they take baby half time at which point they can go out and drink their lunches--which is typically their favorite time to call me during the day. Simply to tell me that the place that they're at has that Summer Shandy we like right on tap--it's amazing, she says. Usually, this really gets me down and makes me want to stab my eyeballs out with my ballpoint pen, stick dull paperclips into my veins, jam my head repeatedly between desk drawers, quit my job and get my education certificate and teach history to children--which actually is pretty much my worst nightmare realize but at least I would have free summers to drink my lunches--this is how bad it gets!

This week, though, it's a different story. I have some time off and I'm taking it. I'm vacationing to the sister's house! BIL could about kill himself thinking about having me around for four days, but I am mighty excited. I can live their summer life for a while and see what it's like to have absolutley no responsibilities for three months of the year (I can hear her now--child, dogs, grad classes, blah blah)! Wahooo!

So, that's that, dear blogging friends. During my late week posts I will likely be pool side sipping on something frosty! Summertime and the living actually might be easy for a few days! :)

This one's for my girls...

2008-06-18T18:09:00.000-05:00

I have good friends. And I want to talk about them.

This will likely take a little slice off of the normal path of cynical banter, but deal with it for a post, will ya…

They’re awesome. And it doesn’t matter what they’re doing—whether they’re cringing at the word ‘moist,’ being extremely patient and accepting of my musical tastes, cooking me dinner, feeding me chocolate, unpacking life’s ridiculous nuances with me, laughing at commercials until we cry, dreaming of what’s going to come next, listening patiently as I express my impatience, getting hyper and laughing like idiots, crying over deaths, crying over bad days, laughing from exhaustion, getting ice cream, drinking beer, scoping out boys, whining about boys, crying about boys, setting me up with boys, encouraging my sabbatical from boys, etc…it doesn’t matter—they’re awesome, through and through.

And it’s interesting to me to think about which stars aligned to lead me to these people and what steps we went through to become friends. What if I’d chosen a different college? What if I’d chosen a different job? What if my older sis’s and my teenage angst and annoyance with each other had lasted forever, instead of us becoming such great friends? What if I lost touch with my besties who’ve packed up and moved away? What would my life be like, and who would I be? What would be different about me?

I just feel really grateful to have such a great network of people that I KNOW, without a doubt, I can call when I am pissed at my life and need a little encouragement and help. I dunno—I think there’s something to be said about a close group of girls. If guys knew the inner workings, you can bet your arse, they’d be hella jealous.

And I’m not excluding my blog friends, either—because you guys are wicked cool, too. And I know I can always count on specific people to leave comments to get me back on track. I refer to you people on a daily basis as my “blog friends.” Those who don’t blog, well, they just don’t get it! J

So, I was thinking today about how sometimes, I might take these people for granted. That’s why I wanted to dedicate a little post here to my friends, my girls, my confidants—you guys rock my face off, and I love you all!

I couldn't find a picture on my work comp of me and my sister--so here she is with Emerson!

Take me out to the ballgame!

2008-06-17T08:56:00.000-05:00

My sister and her husband are teachers. This means they don't work during the summer. This means her favorite thing to do in the morning is call the office and say, "hey, what are you doing, oh, working? That's too bad." Sometimes, it makes me want to beat her senseless. She tans during the summer. She goes swimming, hangs out with her family, shops, does whatever she wants. And she still gets paid. I resent her for this. It's starting to piss me off. (And she won't be reading this, either, as her server has been flooded and she has no internet! Ha! I can bash her all I want) And yes, I do have to work. I work and work and work and make less than she does and she gets three months off. I'm bitter. I said it. However, we (my fellow office drones and I) still have a little bit of summer fun.

Tonight, the work friends are all getting together and going to the ballgame! Now, some of the people at the office are big fans of the Iowa Cubs. I'm just a fan of drinking beer outside when the weather is nice. I think I might have to relapse off the sabbattical to share a drink with my friends. In fact, I know this will happen. Don't worry friends--I have a new mantra--moderation, moderation, moderation! So, in case you were worried, I won't be dancing on top of the dugouts begging for free hotdogs. Phew.

And, if you live in a cave with no cable or internet and haven't heard, our state is basically under water. The ball field is feet away from being flooded, but the game is still on! Yay! Our pregame spot, however, did not get so lucky.

The place, Buzzard Billy's, has an outdoor patio--one of the best in DM, and the actual establishment is below street level. Well, the flood filled the place, and now, what used to be a kick-ass place where you could eat alligator is now a swimming hole. Check out the photos.
Rest in peace, dear Buzzard Billy's, home of crappy beer night,...rest in peace.

Anyway, a little crink in the plans is not even close to as bad as life could have been or has been for a lot of the actual victims of these floods. If my blog wasn't titled as it is, I wouldn't be complaining about this at all--but that wouldn't do the page much justice, would it? In the grand scheme of things, my friends and I are extremely lucky, and no, I won't forget that.

Happy Tuesday!

"I do in high definition"

2008-06-15T20:53:00.000-05:00

My mom bought a new tv. She didn't really need it, but when I got here on Friday night, they were hauling in a 47" flat screen hi-def television. I figured it was just your basic case of retail therapy--you know, the kind where you feel bad about something like moving from a lovely quaint little house to a small condo with virtually no storage and you need to spend loads of money to help you feel better? Yes, I thought this was one of those.

Anyway, BIL Clint goes straight to work mounting that heavy b on the wall. He is leveling and looking for studs. Acting like he knows what he is doing. He finally figures it out, we lift the tv onto the wall and secure it into place.

Since the tv has been hooked up he has become obsessed with shit tv. He's been watching Fast and the Furious Tokyo Drift, the PGA, and NBA games--things, mind you, are totally out of his typical television preferences. Whatever I say, I'm heading to the pool--watch on.

So now, as my sister and I are getting engrossed into an episode of Ice Road Truckers on the History channel, Clint decides he must catch up on the NBA game. Clint, you must realize, honestly has no interest in basketball. We're talking zero. Never before in my life has he wanted to watch basketball.

My sister calls him out on it. "You don't care about the NBA and since when do you give two shits about Tiger Woods? You don't care about this!"

To which he responds: "I do in high definition."

Men. Seriously.

Anywhere.

2008-06-14T15:28:00.000-05:00

It's my typical weekend with the family. The first tears have just been shed. Now I am getting a guilt trip, along with my sis. We are bad people, apparently. Now, I am finding angry videos on youtube and listening to them hoping they'll work as therapy.

Sometimes I want to jump through the computer screen and swim through youtube. I could be wherever I wanted to be. I could be in this Jack's Mannequin video, I could be hanging out with Chelsea Lately, I could be tripping out with Regina Spektor or Amy Winehouse. I could be anywhere.

Instead, I am here.

They do it differently out in the country...

2008-06-13T20:42:00.000-05:00

Last Saturday was a good day. It's a story I need to tell! Most of the day was spent outside in the yard--pulling weeds and planting flowers. I then read a half a book on the deck and caught some rays--too many rays. Anyway, after that, my friend/roommate called to see what I wanted to do that night--she was out at her bf's...in the country. We shortly decided that I would head up there for the night and hang out with them.

So, I quick showered, felt the pain of too many hours in the sun, and got cute-ified. After a short drive and a few minutes of gravel-traveling later, I was there...out in the country.

Friend met me at the convenience store in her bf's big farm truck. We got beer. We got back to the farm and decided it was time to drink it. We made our way outside when the sun finally started shining and proceeded to do beer bongs on the patio. Okay, just kidding...but seriously. Anyway, a few beers and a few hours later people dispersed for dinner. At this time, Big Ed showed up.

Big Ed is friend's bf's whiskey drinking neighbor. He rolled up in his gator, and offered us a ride. Heck yes. We'll go for a ride. Pack a cooler, and grab a blanket--we were off for a ride in the country. Friend and I sat in the bed of the gator while bf and Big Ed sat up front. We traveled down the gravel roads and through the farmland and petted the cows. It was delightful.

Later, everyone came back, and somehow ended up together in the grass. We laid on the grassy knoll and watched the night sky get darker and darker. Eventually, we kissed the deer head in the living room goodnight and strolled up to bed. I made my way to the guest room and slept off the evening's fun.

The thing is, in the country, there is so much open space. It smells good. There are wild animals around and vast expanses of nothing. Lots of bugs. Lots of dust. Lots and lots of peaceful quiet. The neighbors can't hear when the party gets too loud, and if you want to throw beer cans in the yard, more power to you. We drove the 4-wheeler 65 down a gravel road with three people on it. Probably not the safest idea, but it felt good to have the wind blowing through my hair. It wasn't your typical Saturday night, but it was awesome.

So, I want to tell the roommate's bf thanks for a lovely Saturday out in the country. And, truthfully, I left out some of the details. If I told you the whole truth, you would know that consequently, this escapade ended up being the catalyst to the b-squared sabbatical. That, my dear friends, is another story for another time. For now, I will just relish in the sweet country smell reminiscent in these memories...

Sidenote: if friend's bf ever sends me some pictures of said night, I will be sure to add them to the blog!

B-Squared Sabbatical

2008-06-09T09:15:00.000-05:00

Okay folks. It’s official. I am having a major lifestyle renovation. This means I will be knocking two things out of my life that I enjoy the most: boys and booze.

I’m serious. It’s time for a lifestyle change. No more galavanting around at all hours of the night only to wake up and feel like hell. No more waiting for a boy to (not) call on the day of my minor leg operation. I’m done with it. And I don’t know how long this “B-squared Sabbatical” (that’s what I’ve termed it—witty, right!?) will last, but I have to give it a go. I mean, I do like water, and I am sure my system could use a little more of it—maybe my life will turn around once I feel hydrated.

I am going to focus on better things--like riding my bike (if I can get it off the ceiling of the garage), and yoga; I might get back into running and bust out the iPod holder that you can actually run with. Maybe I will learn how to knit, or play the piano. Just maybe...

I know my big sister will be disappointed. We booze when we get together and there is any sort of a family function happening. It’s how we cope. And we have a good time of it. I’m sorry, sister. But you know this will be better in the long run.

I know my brother-in-law will be disappointed as he has been begging me to find a friend for him and keep him around for more than one family function. I’ve broken his heart a thousand times, and I do need to apologize for it. Sorry Clinto. Maybe someday. Just not in the near future. And no, I do not want to date your dad, but thanks for the offer.

And to my dear friends, amazing coworkers, and anyone else I frequent the local pub with--I am sorry. I can have fun and stay sober, you know. So don't count me out completely. I'm fun. Diet Coke is fun. And I'm a funny kid. I'll make your drunk arses laugh even without booze on my breath.

I'm not sure many have much faith in my ability to pull this off. My friend told me I needed to draw up a contract to keep myself honest. I'll let her do the writing--but I will sign it. See, I might have cried wolf once and went on a four day dating sabbatical, so they have reason to be weary. But now, now I'm serious.

So, that’s that, friends. I’m figuring my shit out. I’ll let you know how this goes.

Here I am, Here I am!

2008-06-06T09:42:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the delay in my posts. But, dear friends, so much has happened since I wrote last!

We are moved and we are settled into our adorable little yellow cottage inspired duplex. It's fantastic. We have laundry machines, and storage in the basement (YES!). We can open all the windows all over the house and let the warm spring breeze filter through. It actually feels and smells and looks like a house. We are, for the most part, unpacked, and realized that we have enough dishes and silverware to feed a small army--if any of you ever want to come over for dinner, feel free. Just beware, we think our oven is toxic as the enamel has been all but eaten away, so we certainly can't vouch for the safety of the food, but my roommate is a pretty darn good cook. We still need to paint the walls and weed the landscaping, but otherwise, it's getting pretty cozy.

We had a glorious little get together with some friends and some boys the other night. Margaritas were drunk, and the new digs were broken in. Catchphrase is always a fail-safe at a gathering, and watching B trying to imitate a praying mantis will pretty much change your life.

I also got 17 stitches put into my leg. I had to have a large mole removed as cancer prevention and so they hacked it out, put in two layers of stitches and sent me on my merry, numb little way. It's getting quite sore, but looks to be healing quite nicely.

Additionally, we have been living in tornado-ville this past week or so. Everything is flooded and seeing red covering our county is nothing but ordinary at this point. Last night, I fell asleep on the couch and was woken by roommate and could immediately hear the tornado sirens going off. I grabbed a blanket and we headed down to the bachelorette pad where we watched the news and realized that our cable actually still includes like 70 channels rather than just the 12 we are receiving upstairs. I'll have to fix that this afternoon--blessing in disguise, I suppose?

Anyway, the point is, I'm back. I know you've missed me.

Chicken Little

2008-05-30T14:43:00.000-05:00

There’s a big room and a little room. I want the big room. I always want the big room. This morning was time to decide who gets the big room and who gets the little room. Sometimes, it doesn’t really matter because the big room is like a half a foot bigger than the little room and so it’s basically the same. Not the case here. Big room is quite a bit bigger than little room. Little room is also painted this pukey seafoam green color. I want the big room.

So we decide we are going to have the boss draw to decide who gets which room. On one slip of paper we write big, and on the other, small. We try to decide who the boss is drawing for first when roommate says, wait, how about if she draws big you get the big room because you like Big, from SATC. And if she draws small, I get the big room, well, because you’re already big. Okay fine. Whatever, roommate.

Boss draws small.

So small gets the big room.

Big gets the small room. Are you confused yet?

Me too.

I would like to send a shoutout here to boss for ruining the next year of my life. It's really been a freakin' treat working for you.

The point is, I get the pukey seafoam green small closet of a room that will barely fit my bed and maybe my shoes. I will have to jump from my door to my bed because there will be no room to walk around anything to get anywhere. I’ll have to put my dresser on the side of the bed I don’t sleep on since there will be no floor room, which also means no one will be sharing my bed. I have no idea where the rest of my clothes and books and everything else a girl needs on a daily basis—NOPE, I have no idea where any of that will go.

Wish me luck. Family + Moving + Cleaning + Baby + Packing + Going down 4 flights of stairs = recipe for familial disaster. Oy ve.

Temper Tantrum

2008-05-28T15:33:00.000-05:00

I was with my niece this weekend, and I learned two things: dirty diapers are seriously disgusting, and sometimes I just want to throw a good old fashioned temper tantrum.

Seriously. Some days, I want to throw myself on the sidewalk, kicking and screaming so I don’t have to go into the office. If I didn’t feel like going there one day, would it work if I just wigged out on the concrete? Would someone come running and coddle me while I held my breath and turned red face in refusal of my daily routine? Then they would direct me towards a new activity that didn’t involve the one I reacted so violently to.

Or what if I went to someone’s house for dinner and decided that I didn’t like what they were serving? What if they busted out the mousaka and blue cheese crumbles? Could I just take my hand and whip the food all over the dining room because I didn’t want it? That would be sweet. I never would have had to train my gag reflex to go into sleep mode whilst I choked down food and held my breath.

It would be sweet. And no one would really yell, because you don’t yell at screaming, crying babies, right? And people just expect them to wig out at times—when did we lose that privilege? And why, as adults, are we denied the ability to express our emotions in the purest form? If we were sobbing hysterically because we didn’t want to sit in our chair, why doesn’t anyone pick you up, carry you bouncing around and rub your back until you stop crying?

Some days, I seriously just want to stomp around, kicking and screaming to make sure that someone realizes I am NOT pleased. Oh well. I suppose that’s why they invented alcohol.

If I didn't do this...

2008-05-23T09:08:00.000-05:00

So today I was thinking—what would I do if I didn’t do what I do? If there were no limits, money was not a concern nor a consideration, and I could follow the actual path that my heart and my head compromisingly agreed upon—rather than the one I have convinced them both to go along with…

What would I do?

I would write and I would travel. I would stock up on notebooks, and I would fly all over with nothing but a backpack. I would spend my down time in airports or train stations waiting for my next opportunity to walk down the jetway and board the way to my next destination. I would probably go to Africa and spend several weeks there, and then maybe I would head to India, and back to Italy, followed by a trip to Australia after which I would go back and spend more time in Thailand, followed with more time in Greece. I would write a book, and I would eat my way through each and every one of these countries. I would meet the locals, I would dance in the streets, and I would spend my time in big sunglasses while drinking coffee from little cafes. I would have no cell phone and I would check my email only a couple times a week—just to let people know I was alive!

I would open a winery in California.

I would go back to Thailand and spend a year working in the AIDS orphanage I visited for only a few hours. I would see if the baby I met three years ago had made it through, or if she, too, was taken.

I would let myself fall in love. (Preferably with a Scottish man with a fantastic accent--I'm willing to relocate.)

I would go to graduate school. If I was doing what I wanted to do I wouldn’t have to pick a focus which would make it that much easier to get there. I would probably combine a degree in Women’s Studies, Literature, International Relations and History. And in my ideal world, it would work. I wouldn’t have to choose. And I wouldn’t have to take the GRE to get accepted, either! J

I would adopt a baby. (Maybe, first, I would start with a dog.)

I would train to run a marathon. I would make that my full time job. And someone else would cook for me, and all the crap food I would have to eat to stay healthy and in shape would taste amazing. And beer would also be on the nutrition plan.

If I didn't do this, I would do a lot of things...

Your Mom

2008-05-21T21:06:00.001-05:00

I've been absent for a couple of days, but never fear, I am back! I've been off at a conference for work in Madison, Wisconsin. Six of us from the office went, and let me tell you, it was interesting.

First of all, there were four women and two men. You can imagine they were a little out numbered as far as conversation went in the vehicle. We voted them to drive, so they took the front seats, and let us chat in the back. We were supposed to have a minivan, but they were out, so we were stuck in a Yukon with A. squished in the very back surrounded by all our luggage. Anyway, at one point, that Miley song came on--I've got my sight set on you...you know the one. So, S says, turn it up! And they do, but we realize that the speakers aren't on in the back. S asks if they'll turn them on in the back and why they weren't on in the first place. One of the boys says, "if we turned them on back there, you'd just TALK LOUDER."

The easiest way to irritate the hell out of a man, I've decided, is to stick him in a car full of women, friends at that, for six hours. They'll be ready to eat their own ears so they don't have to listen any longer.

Boys also talk with their eyes just as much if not more often than gals do. Every time we chicas would start a hysterically stupid conversation and the giggles would take off, the boys would give each other this look. The look that says, "OMG I am going to die if someone doesn't shut these women up, aren't they tired of talking to each other yet, and how can we drug them to get them to go to sleep?"

There were many good conversations that took place over the last several days, but my favorites would probably be the ones that don't even make sense but you can't stop laughing over. For instance, this week, the comeback of choice was "Your Mom." (If you don't know it, I'm sorry but I don't think I can really explain it over this blog. I mean, Your Mom covers everything-- Q:"where'd you get that t-shirt?" A:"Your Mom." Q:"What time is it?" A:"Your Mom." Q:"Who are you talking to?" A:"Your Mom." Q:"What was that song called?" A:"Your Mom." You get the picture.) Anyway, back to the conversation. So, we are in the car on the way home today, and S decides to drop the Tu Mama, rather than Your Mom. Yes. At the time, it was hysterical. You musta had to be there.

Anyway, I don't think the boys were sad to see us go. In fact, I'd be willing to bet they both decide to take the day off tomorrow in an attempt to regain their sanity!

I just think girls have more fun.

This s*^# is bananas

2008-05-18T17:39:00.000-05:00

If any of you have an extra couple hundred dollars to spend, I've got just the thing for you to do with it. Go hang out with my sister.

I took Friday off and spent a couple of days over at her house babysitting my sweet little niece, Emerson. She's 13 months old. Her mom and dad were at a track meet out of town, so my little Bug and I hung out and spent some good old quality time together. We went shopping, and out to lunch; we visited the park and shared a swing. We watched a couple movies she had been wanting to see, and we took a nice long nap. She's a cool little kid, and try as I might, the word Jamie was not going to escape her lips. She's more focused on things like puppy, mommy, daddy, uppy, no, cheese, what's that-- you know, the fundamental words of a toddler.

Anyway, my sister came back after the track meet. She came back and I was telling her about how when Emerson and I went shopping, the last store we went to was really the ONLY one I LOVE to shop in (Banana Republic). Emerson got pissed and threw a huge fit. So I missed my store. My sister was certain that we would find time to go back. And we did.

We always do.

And I always spend way too much money.

And I make irrational purchases.

And she talks me in to shoes I don't need.

And shirts I could live without.

And sandals like the ones she let me borrow.

No, dear sister, I am not blaming you for my uncontrollable monetary spending when you are around. I'm not. Seriously. I'm just offering up your services to the blogosphere--to those women who have the extra cash burning a hole in their pockets. You could be a great help to them!

Let me know if you'd like to benefit from her services. I'll put you in touch.

In a year.

2008-05-13T21:38:00.000-05:00

It's been a year. One year since I hauled all of my stuff up three flights of stairs into this apartment only to take it up one more flight of windy spiral steps. One year, and I am preparing to do it all over, only in reverse order.

In one year I have accumulated a ton of crap. I have a stack of bills that needs shredding, and far more clothes than I moved in with. And, you can bet I have more shoes! I have stacks and stacks of books, and artwork that is new to me. I have two new scars, and lots of hand-me-down KitchenAid. I got contacts. I've gained a little weight and lost a little innocence. I've updated music, and upgraded computers. I've watched my bank account deflate monthly as I watch the student loans being taken out--but I would never have spent my college years differently. I've accumulated more life, and with that, more wisdom.

In one year I have not learned the names of my neighbors. In fact, I only know what one person living on this floor actually looks like (aside from my roommates, of course). I do not know which apartment the old lady I met during the fire lives in, although I do know where the single mom who drives the light blue Crown Victoria and has a young son who skateboards, I know where they live...or where they used to live, at least. They moved out last weekend. Someone new was taking their place today. I know there are teenagers here. Just yesterday, one was sitting on the curb by the door eating a bowl of AppleJacks with her friend--neither looked up to say hello. There's also a young boy who plays soccer at his high school--he rides the bus, I watched him walk to the road the other day. There are two middle-aged single women who live on the first floor--they both like to drink in the middle of the afternoon on their patios. Last summer, after a huge storm, they invited me down for a beer. I didn't go. I should have.

In a year, I have spent many a late night laughing with friends. I have graduated from college and had two jobs. I have met so many great friends--the best of friends, and I became a God Mother. I went to the concert of one of my favorite artists. I have been to five states, and I have dated four men. I haven't fallen in love, but I haven't fallen in hate, either. I've gotten drunk, and been hungover--but those get togethers were priceless! I have driven thousands of miles, and run many less. I've watched my niece go from a helpless little seven pound baby, to a toddler who clearly says words like Mommy and Puppy. I've celebrated a birthday, and been to a funeral. I watched a good friend get married, and I watched my grandparents celebrate their millionth anniversary. And it's gone extremely fast.

It's interesting, to me. To think about the people I have passed over the past year--the opportunities for friendship and conversation that I didn't take, and the things I could have learned. Would my life be different, would I be on a different path, and would these people have had any affect on the person I am now if I had taken the chance to get to know them--or them, me?

What will the next year bring? Time goes far too quickly.

No Deal!

2008-05-09T14:37:00.000-05:00

Compromise? What kind of a compromise was that!?! All I got out of the deal was some dirty nachos from a non-Mexican restaurant and a guilt trip about making you endanger your child by settling the little Bean down in a radio flyer behind a moped—a radio flyer you know you have no chance of getting her to stay in without a five-point harness.

And, I do feel bad. I mean, I should have known when I knocked on your office door this morning and you didn’t answer that I shouldn’t have opened the door. I did though, and when I saw what a sad sight you were sitting in your chair hurling your intestines into your trash can, I really did feel a little guilty that I’ve been razzing you so much.

But, friend, if we’re going to compromise, we’re going to compromise. I can’t let you ruin my entire life for 9 straight months. And in that, I will be taking up on the one reasonable compromise you came up with--Coyote Ugly-ing this evening. As you know, it’s a work night out, and you, sillily agreed to attend days ago. An invitation you know I will not, under any circumstances, allow your pregnant arse to rescind. And, with the blogosphere as my witness, you offered to dance on a bar—a feat you will succeed in this very evening. Bwahahahahahaha! I get to pick the exact time—and you best know I will wait until the boss arrives! Hehe!

It’s not my fault you spent your disposable income on your child, of all things! Psh. A turtle sandbox? Please, just put her in that box your furnace came in and dump a bag of sand in. It will work just the same and momma will save that money and use it to NOT go binge drinking with Auntie Jamie. Save up, momma, cus you got a hell of a lot of catching up to do!

Also, E is correct—nails and massages are a must. Your treat? Great! Thanks!

Dear friend, you're ruining my life.

2008-05-05T18:32:00.000-05:00

Good news: I'm not pregnant. Bad news: she is.

My very good friend got pregnant, and it's ruining my life. No longer can I count on her to be in to go out for drinks after a long, stressful day at the office. It's turned from, "Yeah, that sounds good, sweet dude, let's go get beers" to "Oh, I would, but I can't drink and it's smoky and I'll just be a downer." Awesome.

Then there's the whole puking thing. The other day, said friend came into my office to chat, and in the middle of conversation, she walks over, grabs my garbage can, and sits back down with the trash bin between her knees. Now, I don't know about you, but that makes it a little hard to carry on a conversation. I'm interested in talking about hotties and the latest drama on our favorite tv shows, but that's extremely hard when I am constantly concerned about the fact that she is going to barf in my garbage can, subsequently, I'll do the same thing as my gag reflex is the weakest imaginable at which point I don't know what I will do as the trash can is no longer within my reach since she's taken it across the room. Sheesh.

On top of that, she has decided that she loathes our favorite Mexican restaurant. This restaurant is our caloric touchstone--the place that we sometimes at 3 times a week; the place with the best salsa, and warm chips; the place where the waiters knew us and what kinds of special needs we required. Yep. She decided to puke it out her nose and then, poof, Amazing Mexican Restaurant ran far far away from our list of lunching options. Since then, she's decided that she dislikes my 2nd food weakness--Chinese. At the mention of Chinese today, she said, "you have to stop saying that word," in a voice that made it obvious she was fighting off the urge to hurl the grapes she'd just eaten.

On top of all of these pregnancy symptoms, she's decided to tighten her budget. Essentially, this means that anything we used to be able to do for fun during this pregnancy which didn't involve booze, Mexican or Chinese food is now stricken from the list. Yep, all the fun stuff, gone. Movies, popcorn, binge eating, mid-day trips for ice cream...gone. Budget smudget.

Dear friend, you're ruining my life.

I only kid, dear friend. You know that I cannot wait for this little baby to enter the world and be my new friend, and I really actually do like to talk about baby names and trying to convince you to buy this baby new bedding, and I do feel bad that you're sick all the time and want to harf your guts out on a daily basis. I do. So, I hope that this blog doesn't affect the relationship we have during your pregnancy--it was intended for entertainment purposes only! I swear. Love you friend.

And dear baby, hurry up and get here so me and momma can go get shit-faced!

Oh, and get this dear reader. She has NOW DECIDED THAT SHE CAN'T EVEN TALK SHIT ABOUT LIFE WITH ME. She's on this whole, "I'm going to be positive and not have a black heart and be nicer to people and now everything we used to do is shot and now everything we used to spend money on is shot and now everything we used to bitch about is also shot because I am focusing my energy on finding my center and being a more positve person" kick.

Wow. My life is ruined. Have you ever tried to talk shit about life when no one talks back? Not nearly as gratifying.

Friend, call me in November.

Half Baked

2008-05-01T21:31:00.001-05:00

I know. I know I have been bitching and moaning for the last 6 months about the cold ass, bitter, nasty, wet, dirty, icy, cold, windy, frigid weather. Guilty as charged. I get it. And I'm always begging dear mother nature to lighten up and give us some sun and warmth. Again, I realize this. So, dear reader, please do not roll your eyes in ridiculous irritation as I say the following:

I'M HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm not kidding. I'm dying right now. It was like 79 degrees today and humid as all get out. That's the thing about Iowa--the hot isn't only hot...it's wet. It's so stinkin' humid here that your skin always feels gross, and you never really stop sweating.

I was in getting a haircut today, and they hadn't turned the air on in the salon. I was in my work clothes and was covered in that lovely little cape. After she washed my hair with hot water and sat me back in the chair, I realized I was warm. Snip snip snip, and a blow dryer later, I was certain I was going to die. She must have seen the exasperation on my face, and she went and opened the door in an attempt to circulate some air. Anyway, the point of the story is that it didn't work. I had boob sweat, and a little river of salty body water working it's way down my butt-crack. I know. I'm cute.

Now, I sit in my apartment praying for this thunderstorm to actually happen. I hope it will wash some of the heat and humidity out of the air. We have a rule in the apartment--no AC until it's 78 degrees in here. It's only 76. I'm suffering. We're cheap. Just out of college gals. We don't have the extra money to be blowing on creature comforts like AIR CONDITIONING--that money is better spent on things like clothes and booze. At least we have our priorities in line.

If you don't hear from me sometime soon, please alert the authorities and send them to my apartment--odds are I baked to death.

David Blaine

2008-04-30T16:47:00.000-05:00

I just watched David Blaine hold his breath for 17 minutes and 4 seconds--under water. He was in a big fish bowl on Oprah and the whole time they taped it and watched the time. I need to know how this is actually physically possible. I mean, I don't get it. And how does he come out of it normally? Like without any brain defects?

As I sat here on the couch, I tried to hold my breath. I think I lasted about 30 seconds. And I think I burned half my brain cells in the process.

This guy must be a total freak of nature--and I say that with all the admiration possible.

Next he wants to stay awake for a million seconds--which is just over 11 and a half days. He would then hold the world record for being awake the longest.

I feel like if you stayed awake for 11 days, you'd feel insane.

How do you become someone like David Blaine? At what point do you say, hey, I think I am going to try to hold my breath for 17 minutes or stay awake for 11 days? Hey--at least he has goals.

What it's like being a girl...

2008-04-28T18:13:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry, but I have a conversation that needs to be had. And it's not pretty or glamorous. With that in mind, I feel the need to issue a warning--all boys and Sara C. need to stop reading this entry. Seriously. You don't want to hear this. STOP READING!

All women except for Sara C, dear friend, feel free to read on.

Periods. I feel the need to talk about periods. I have these killer cramps. Like "walking like a hunchback, doubling over in the office, crawling up the stairs, bleeding like a spicket" cramps.

That's not the worst part though--the worst part, I am remembering, is the insatiable hunger. I cannot get full. And all I want to do is eat. Today, I have had a Fiber One bar, Pop Tarts, a Heath bar, half a Hershey's bar, a big lunch, four pieces of Laffy Taffy, Zotz, chips and salsa, and puppy chow.

And no, I haven't had dinner yet. I'm thinking grilled cheese. and popcorn. and m&ms. and ice cream.

Oddly enough--I don't even really like chocolate. I could do without chocolate. I mean, except for Heath bars. I live for Heath bars. Otherwise, no thanks. I would never eat m&ms or Hershey's chocolate just because I wanted it--and today, I would have died for it.

If this keeps up I'll look like Violet in Willy Wonka by Friday and someone is going to have to roll my fat ass to work.

Man, I feel like a Woman.

Text You, Later

2008-04-26T14:45:00.000-05:00

I was supposed to go on a date last night. I had been set up by a coworker’s mother. A nice boy, she said, that everyone in her office loved. He’s six feet tall, has a full head of dark hair, and he’s 25. I decided I didn’t have anything to lose so I agreed. Ahh nice boys and dating--exciting, right!?

He texted me. He asked me out by text.

We were going to meet at 8 at a bar downtown to have a couple of drinks.

He called on Wednesday night to confirm the details.

Yesterday, I was caught up at work with a late appointment. I was going to leave at 4:30, and while still waiting around 5:30, I was sitting talking with my boss and another woman that works in the office. As we sat there discussing the details of said date, clothing choices, was I going to be crunched for time, etc. I started freaking out a little bit. My appointment wouldn’t be back for another few minutes and then I had to meet with them, drive the half hour back home, find the outfit I prepared mentally, fix my face, get back in the car, drive the 15 minutes downtown--it was going to be crunched. Bleh!!!!!!! Girls, you know how this is.

It was then I noticed the screen on my phone lit up. I reached for it, and while boss and coworker were chatting, I had to laugh. I read the words on the screen. And then I read them again, out loud.

“I don’t think I am going to make it tonight. Sorry. I have been seeing this girl from work and it’s starting to get serious. Sorry for the late notice.”

*Crickets* Followed by ridiculous hysterical laughter and a long conversation about how technology is changing the face of the world and the way people date. So what did I do? I did what any gal in my situtation would do--hit forward and sent the message to all the girlfriends I had spent the last couple days talking about this with!

I was ditched by text.

BY TEXT!

Are you KIDDING ME!?!?!

And, then I have to ask, how serious could it have gotten in the 48 hours between confirming the plans and cancelling them? And do you really wait until 5:30 the night OF to cancel?
As I sat pondering my current situation, I couldn’t help but wonder--is it worse to be asked out over text, or is it worse to be ditched by text?

Ah, 23 and single-- it's fun.

Punk Face

2008-04-23T21:45:00.000-05:00

So, my little sister is kind of a punk. Let me get the disclaimer out of the way--she's my sister and I love her and she's great and she's smart, and she has a kind heart. Period.

That being said--let's get real honest here. She's an 18 year old punk. She's dated this guy on and off who in no way is good enough for her--he treats her like crap much of the time, disrespects her, makes her appear needy and self conscious--he's just not good for her--especially not for her future. She doesn't give herself enough credit, and she sells herself short.

That's me, in my long haired glory (it's short now), and C. This pic was taken the night before my graduation...anyway, she's got talent. She's artistic--she takes great photographs, is a good cook, and likes kids (ewe). She's a trendy dresser, listens to decent music, and much of the time, she'll do a favor for you (there are, I might add, a hearty list of exceptions). When she's in a good mood, she's really glad to talk to you--when she's not, you best hope you decided not to call.

Anyway, she's coming to visit tomorrow. She's a senior this year, and she and her friend are coming into town to go on a college visit--YAY college! They're staying at my place, and I've been trying to get her excited about college for two years now, and though I think I have about killed myself in doing so, she's finally coming down.

She used to have no interest in it. At all. It was a subject that could start a family war at any function. She'd likely get mad if it was brought up and briskly leave the table while throwing a big temper tantrum in the meantime, while screaming "I'm NOT going to college" which translated into, "I'm not leaving the BF! Take pity!" She wanted to stay close to that boy. She didn't want to leave her comfort zone--and the world she's known her whole young life.

That being said, I have her in my realm for about 14 short hours, and I've talked until I'm blue in the face trying to give her life advice and tell her that she really does need to leave the hometown and the now ex-bf to get out there and get some real world experience, and I think I am about 85 percent there--but I have nothing else to say. There is nothing else I can say about academic programs, and dorm life, and student activities, and traveling abroad, and growing as a human being that I haven't said before.

So I ask you, dear reader, what advice would you offer to the youngin--cus I'm out, and I still have 15 percent to go...

OMG

2008-04-21T19:59:00.000-05:00

My latest guilty pleasure: Gossip Girl on the CW...Monday nights 7pm

It makes me feel like my high school years were completely normal compared to how effed up this show is. Seriously, these girls are fifty times meaner than all the girls I went to high school with (well, one might have competed, but for the most part). Seriously. They are evil. They are manipulative, neurotic, evil little beings.

Here's how it works. There's Blair, and she hates everyone, especially Serena, the blonde. Serena dates Dan, but her mom is also married to Chuck's dad. Chuck again, is basically inherently evil...or so we think...this week we got a little sneak peek at the fact that he might be a little more sensitive than he lets on. Anyway, Serena(who dates Dan)'s little brother also just got out of rehab because he liked the drugs. Dan and his little sister are the token poor kids who go to the uppity private school across town and try as hard as they can to fit in despite the huge difference in their socioeconomic statuses. Their dad is way to good looking to be a dad. In fact, all the guys in this show are incredibly good looking.

The truth is, it isn't the drama that keeps me coming back week after week. The thing is, I have a huge crush on Chuck. He's hot. I mostly like the manipulative, sinister, mean side of Chuck. I don't need the wimpy Chuck that acts like he actually has feelings. Pssh.

Seriously. I know, the show is totally teeny-bopper, but seriously, if you ever want closure on how ridiculous your high school years were, this is the way to go. You'll feel normal for the first time in ten years, and the eye candy is worth drooling over...

My Holiday

2008-04-21T19:28:00.001-05:00

So, if you weren't aware, this week is national administrative professional assistant day--or whatever--since Secretary's day is no longer politically correct. So, the administrative professionals in the office shall be showered with flowers and food and lots of joy and love for an entire day. Actually, I think it is supposed to be celebrated for a whole week.

Then, of course, a few months ago, was the lovely bosses day. We pitched in cash, bought the bosses some goodies, and got a few brownie points for ourselves (actually, AS and DT, if you're reading this, I really love you both).

Anyway, the point is, what about the rest of us? When is national CPA Day, or Grocery Store Cashier Day, or Call Center Dude's Day? When's our day in the sun? It's only the bosses and the secretaries getting the love, and really, it makes my heart a little bit sad. Not really. I just feel like if Hallmark was actually practicing their capitalist monopolizing ways to the fullest--they'd broaden the spectrum of random holidays to go further than Bosses, Secretary's, and Valentines Days...and the rest of us would cash in, too! :)

Neti-pot-ing

2008-04-20T12:14:00.001-05:00

Last night, I slept for 13 hours. Over half a day. I would like to blame the head-cold/sinus infection/Tylenol PM, and not blame this on sheer and utter laziness. The point is, I am so sick of being sick I could just scream. I'm "stuffed up, puffy, watery eyes, runny nose, hacking up a lung" girl. It's hot. For once, I want to wake up and be able to breathe out of my nose and not cry at the thought of swallowing. It would also be nice if my brain felt a little less like it was ricocheting off the walls of my brain in some totally screwed up pin-ball fashion.

This week, in desperation, I listened to the advice of this guy who works in my office. He's older. I don't know how old because I am bad at guessing ages. But, he's got kids around my age, so he's used to offering advice. Anyway, for the last 7 months he's been trying to convince me to buy a Neti-pot. Because if I am not complaining about being sick, I am complaining about my allergies and not being able to breathe. Anyway, the other night, I strolled to the corner Walgreens and bought myself a Neti-pot.

Now, there is one episode of Sex and the City where the girls talk about what things you absolutely would not do in front of a significant other. I would like to add Neti-pot-ing to the universal list. This is the most awkward contraption. You stand over the sink, take this little pot (it looks like a miniature watering pot), fill it with warm water, add saline mix, put up to right nostril, breathe out of mouth, and tip your head. You then wait for the water to flush through your sinuses, and then whatever it picks up on it's way through falls out of your left nostril. Repeat on the left side, and done.

You can almost imagine how HOT Neti-pot-ing makes me feel...

However, it does work so I would recommend using it, however if you do decide to make sure you lock the door because it really is the most awkward thing you've ever done and you don't want to be startled into swallowing the solution because at that point it would burn your sinuses and make your eyes water. Hot.

Ahh Spring.

2008-04-16T11:57:00.000-05:00

If I lean my chair back from my desk and look across the office through the (hopefully) open door of my colleague, I can, for a moment, see spring. I can see the bright blue skies, the birds fluttering around, and the shade of green that appears blindingly bright after an extremely long winter.

The warmth of spring earth is finally upon us, and I couldn’t be happier. It is a time for frolicking, walking to the town square for lunch, and being leisurely as you stroll from place to place with a new zest for life—much different from the biting cold that we have experienced for so long—the kind where you have to hold your breath and huddle so far into your coat that you can hardly see where your next step will land.

I have to say, I’ve missed my heels. And my dresses. And my sandals. And short sleeved shirts. And rushing out of the house in the morning without having to bundle up in the scarf and coat. It’s lovely.

And from here, the one thing I can’t see is the strength of the wind. So as I sit here, longing for the outside world, I suddenly remembered one thing—the wind. And the contacts I got for the first time yesterday. And how the wind affects the contacts in your eyes. And the little gritty pieces of dirt winter left behind, and how they make wind tunnels and burrow into your face and eyes.

Oh yes. The wind is lovely. I just pretend that I was going for the windblown-messed watery eyes look—because it’s so in right now. And when I am in the parking lot with my hands full and my black and white polka dot dress gets caught by a 50 mph gust of wind and flies up on me, I yell to the passers-by that I’ve just gotten a part in the local production as the one and only Marilyn Monroe—I wore these underwear because I wanted you to see them. Really. I did.

Alas. At least contacts mean sunglasses, and this girl is looking ever more forward to spending some time in the sun (without the wind, of course).

Yuck.

2008-04-09T13:41:00.002-05:00

Today on my way into work I realized how antisocial I actually am. I spotted a person I would usually strike up a conversation with across the parking lot as they were leaving their car and heading into their building. I had my hands full, I have a cold so my nose was running and my head felt like it was floating and there was nowhere to go. What did I do? I skulked. I skulked between a minivan and a pickup truck and pretended to be checking myself out in the reflection on the window (because that’s normal), which could have come off as extremely creepy to the random passersby. Literally, I stopped. In between a bunch of cars. Avoiding said person. Why?

Because I’m an anti-social bitch lately, that’s why. It may have something to do with all the talking I’m doing at work with these people that I need to answer my simple questions. It may have something to do with the ridiculous cold/sore throat/floating head/crappy feeling/runniness I have going on. It may have something to do with the fact that I can’t catch up on sleep. The point is, I covet my quiet time. I don’t want to talk. Especially to that person in the parking lot this morning.

So here I sit, guzzling liquids because all of the “moms” in the office tell me that’s the best way to get healthy. I even decided against the 32 oz. of soda this morning and settled with green tea and water. I’m sweating with that nasty sweat you only get when you have a cold, and my insides feel like they are boiling. I feel like a walking germ. And everyone around me loves it (and by loves it, I mean, they are walking around with Germ-X and spraying down everything I touch with Lysol). It's lovely.

April Bulls*&^

2008-04-03T17:37:00.000-05:00

TS and I are done. And he's one pissed mo-fo. I planned on ending things with him tomorrow, but after looking at my schedule I decided I needed to kick him to the curb, today. The bastard. He retaliated. In the form of a ridiculous April snowstorm that almost killed me. Just when I started to become hopeful for the turning of the seasons--all the muck was washing away and the sun shine warmed the soul. It was a hopeful few days I experienced this week, and then this.

After my last appointment today I started to head back in this direction--towards home. All the while, I watched TS getting further and further from my sight as he looked back in my rearview mirror. My heart was heavy as I watched his form get smaller and smaller on the horizon, but as I looked into the vast future in front of me, I felt better.

Then it started to rain. Shortly after that the temperature dropped about 15 degrees and the rain became thick--not quite snow, but almost. I knew TS had a heart to heart with the gods, and they were all out to get me. A mile later I was driving through the slushiest, slipperiest shit I have seen in weeks. I called TS on his cell phone and when he didn't answer I left him a very colorful message on his voicemail--I slurred pretty much every curse I could think of and demanded he get his shit together and clean up his act (and this effing snow).

Two miles later, I was driving through the biggest snowflakes I had ever seen. The DJ on the local radio station even busted out "Let it Snow," I kid you not. TS must've got the message and called the gods back. It only got worse. This is APRIL, TS. I realize you're pissed at me, but I am concerned at your willingness to screw over the rest of the population of this state when they, too, were just getting their hopes up for spring. I don't know why I ever agreed to date you anyway, TS, you're a jerk. And us, we're over. We're so over we need a new word for over. (Thank you Carrie Bradshaw.) At least until next fall...

A Different Kind

2008-04-01T16:49:00.000-05:00

Well, D.C. was a blast. We were blessed with beautiful weather, great sites, good food, strong beer, and best of all, cherry blossoms. Friday was spent walking miles and miles around the mall and taking in the cherry blossoms at the tidal basin--it was a gorgeous day. A fresh reminder of springtime, and in it there was a warmth I had missed this long winter. It was sunny, the sky was blue, and for the first time I was seeing these amazing monuments I had heard so much about.

Saturday was much of the same--we went to the Eastern Market, Library of Congress, and National Portrait Gallery. We went out to some of the bars in Adams Morgan Saturday night and it was a blast!

Sunday I went to the Holocaust Museum which took up most of the day. We were moving a little slowly on Saturday morning so by the time I got there it was nearly 11:30--we spent several hours there and it basically took the day--what a moving experience. After that we were on the metro on our way back to the airport to head back to the midwest. What a weekend. It went quickly, but I saw a ton--it was great!

Sometimes I forget that places like D.C. exist here in the states. I drive all over Iowa, and I take in all that is here, but the beauty of this space that I am in every day is sometimes hard for me to remember. I think I fall into watching the same thing day after day--the landscape becomes boring to me. Then I take off to a place like D.C. and experience something equally as beautiful--but very very different. It only heightened my desire to, someday, move on out--to see something else and experience a different kind of beautiful.