Bandaid.

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

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

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...

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

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

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!

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!

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

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

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

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

**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.