Merry Christmas (a.k.a. most original Dec. 25th blog title ever)

This week has been slightly hectic in the loosest sense of the word.

Since I haven't worked since Dec. 11th, hectic means I had a couple gifts left to buy.

That's pretty much it.

I also visited the gym. Every day (except Christmas and Christmas), which I rewarded myself for by eating absolutely whatever I wanted all day long.

Merry Christmas to me! (And my elastic-waisted sweat pants)

The day was pretty low-key, with just the immediate family.  It was wonderful, even though I did miss the extended family.

Now excuse me while I climb back into my sweats and onto my bed to sleep for the next 10-12 hours.

Recovery from my VERY stressful week, you know?

Nerd.

I've been experimenting with my music in my car recently, playing my entire iPod on shuffle and seeing where the wind takes me.

It makes every ride, even the ten minute trip to the gym, a little more exciting.

Plus, I have more music than I can remember. Seriously. So it's nice to remember.

I'm kind of a music nerd. Not in the know-every-artist/song/lyric sense, but in the sense that I really enjoy music. A good melody, baseline, or lyric (if I can make it out), makes me happy.

In light of that, I've been hooked on The Sing Off this past week.

I know, I'm a nerd.

I actually got interested in collegiate a cappella a few years ago.  The things people can do with just their voices is amazing.

Nerd.  Yep.

I'll stop now before it gets any worse.

Whiskey

I've been in a bit of a blogging funk. Although I think it may be more due to the fact that I don't have much going on in my life.

I haven't worked in over a week, and I still have two more weeks off.

This probably doesn't bode well for the blog.

I did go to the whiskey tasting party.

And while we sipped on different types of whiskey and talked about the flavors of the drinks, I learned one thing: I don't really like whiskey.

Except in stuff, where it's just an accompanying flavor.

I would definitely prefer taking a shot of the stuff to sipping on it.

I'm pretty sure that's true of any alcohol, the not liking the actual taste of it.

Except I do kind of like tequila, not that I have ever sipped it.

The only other exciting events of note recently include my sister coming home from school for break tomorrow (yay!), running 40 straight minutes on the treadmill tonight (wow), and still not accomplishing Christmas shopping (impressive, no?).

I mean, anytime someone is posting a blog around 11pm on a Saturday, you know there their life is exciting.

Snowcrazy.

The first snow of the year (after a couple weeks of freezing temperatures) meant getting my snow legs/driving skills back.

After a very brief flirtation with the edge of a ditch--I had just followed a car going approximately 5 MPH up a hill and lost control for a moment--I pulled myself together and drove like my mama taught me.

Like a pro. And I was able to arrive to a bridal shower on time.

It was a shower for one of the two people I keep in touch with from school. I by "keep in touch" I mean that have an actual relationship beyond Facebook stalking.

The shower was great filled with laughter and food, friends and family, including a very amusing, cute, and spunky grandmother.

Something I will never have, as one of my grandmothers doesn't even speak anymore, Alzheimers don't you know, and the other is 91 years old.

And even though getting married seems to be the cool thing to do, I've never been very "cool" and am realistically decades from getting married.

Hopefully, I'm exaggerating. No way to know now, however.

The snow does help me get in the mood for Christmas. I have plans to decorate tomorrow, which means some cleaning and reducing of clutter.

I'm also reminded that I have presents to buy. Seriously, is Christmas really less than two weeks away. That's not okay.

I mean it is, or it will be once I get my presents purchased.

Usually I'm way more organized than this. About Christmas presents, not about life.

Did I mention I'm going to a whiskey tasting party this week? 'Cuz it's true.

The last time I tasted straight whiskey, it was from a bottle conveniently hidden on the floorboards of the wagon I rode away from my cousin's wedding in June.

I think I'm supposed to bring a bottle, so if anyone has suggestions for great whiskey, let me know.

As a sidenote, ignore the whining, poor-me stuff above. My life isn't all that bad.

For realz, yo.

Cookies, the day after.

A few weeks ago, when I spotted the Sunset cookie edition, I just knew I needed to bake.  All I was missing was time for it.  Yesterday, I made it happen.

The cookie making expedition was a bit of a win-lose endeavor.  The chocolate cookies turned out scrumptious.

The gingersnaps turned out not to have any baking soda in them.  Oops.  This meant after they cooled they were like little coal lumps.  Not so delicious.

Although if it weren't for the 3 hour refrigeration step, I would probably be trying them out again today.  Because they were that easy.

Those chocolate cookies were pretty amazing.  The dough was a little sticky and difficult to work with, but I have a feeling that a little extra flour would have solved that problem.

I tend to be a little haphazard in the kitchen.  I don't really measure all that carefully (I actually only used a teaspoon while baking) and I tend to make do with what I find in our cupboards.  I ended up grabbing the chocolate we had and going with it.

If you look past the lumps of coal, you can see chocolate-peanut butter thumbprint cookies and chocolate cookies with peppermint icing.

Either option was delicious.

One of these I might just have to try the gingersnaps again.

Cookies!

My nose is running.

My brother, who I spent an unusual amount of time with last weekend, had a no good, very bad cold, and now I'm afraid that it's mine.

And my mother's.  Ka-pow, ka-pow.

But mine isn't going to get that bad, because I command it to and because I'm taking cold medicine and vitamins like they're christmas cookies.

Speaking of which, I'm should make some cookies this afternoon.

Because I don't work again until Friday afternoon, it's Christmas time, and I like chocolate.

Done.

Maybe, since I've planned so far in advance, I'll take some pictures of the cookie-making process.

Or maybe I'll contaminate the cookies with my sickness and eat them all myself.

Candy Cane Lane (and other miscellaneous items)

On my dashboard (it's a Mac thing--either you are confused right now or you get it) I have a weather widget. 

It currently displays a temperature of 45 degrees.  The actual temperature is somewhere BELOW freezing.

Stupid confused widget.

I wish I had something better than that to write at the moment, and really somewhere in my head I probably do.

But the weekend has been 5 parts exhausting (not sleeping in my own bed, end of story), 3 parts emotionally draining (I find funerals tend to be that way), 2 parts unhealthy (i.e. all the crap I ate, but boy was it delicious), and 3 parts wonderful (family time + a new pair of boots + my sister's choir concert).

(I should mention those amounts were all randomly assigned and have no real value...in case you were confused.)

So instead of cute, witty, random things to say, I have soap-box-ish, boring, random things to say.

For example, I briefly flirted with a post about Tiger Woods and society's obsession (and feeling of entitlement) with all things rich and famous.

Then I thought about it and realized a post, in some ways, would just be enabling.

Instead I'll tell you how I drove through Candy Cane Lane--the most beautifully decorated neighborhodd in all the land--except it was very well decorated.  Apparently it's early in the season.

Try telling that to all the Canadians shopping and pillaging for the holidays.  And hogging the roadways.

I just want to drive home in peace people.  (But I'm totally not bitter.  At all.  Love you Canadians!)

Candy Cane Lane did have the word "peace" in different languages in front of each house, including pace, paix, and something in Tagolog, which I have no chance of spelling correctly and am too lazy to look up.

The real silver lining in my weekend (besides the new boots) is the fact that I don't work until Wednesday mornging.  So really, my weekend is only half over.

Be jealous.

PT, what?!

I'm not sure if it's normal or not, but my shoulders are so sore/hurt so much that it's hard to lift my arms.

Thanks Jimmy.

Jimmy is my personal trainer.

By the way, who am I and when did I get a personal trainer?  I mean, who even does that, really? 

I do, because it's the best I can think of to keep myself motivated at the gym and spend way more money than I would otherwise.

On a related note, burpies.  Not fun.  If you particpated in athletics in high school, you may be familiar with them. 

Think push-ups meets up-downs meets mountain climbers.  Sort of.

One set involved throwing a medicine ball as well, the highlight of which was almost knocking the air out of Jimmy.

This was also ironic considering prior to the set he had told me a story about the time he hit a client in the stomach.

I think that makes me a winner.

And stinky.  Because I haven't showered.

Hello, Sun. How are you?

Last week, when I ventured across the not so great water (aka The Sound) for Thanksgiving, I got to ride a ferry.

It was a special moment for me, truly.

Except that it was dark, cold and wet.  So I stayed inside.

As luck would have it, the day of our return trip dawned bright and beautiful.  So my camera and I got to enjoy the trip back across the water together.

Complete thoughts are overrated.

Because my mind is all over the place, and my arms are so sore I can't lift my arms over my head (or heads over my arm, as I typed the first time), I'm going with the good ol' bullets point method tonight.

What can I say, I'm lazy.  My thoughts for this dreary Monday: 

• NaBloPoMo is nearing it's end and while some may not consider me successful, I say it's all how you interpret the rules.  30 posts in 30 days?  Check.  I consider myself victorius.
• Enough with the rain already.  Seriously.  I feel like Noah, minus the boats and the pairs of animals.
• Watching HGTV is dangerous for my health.  It makes me want to a buy a house solely to be able to remodel.  Too bad you need money for that.
• I started circuit training today at the gym and I haven't feel like such a weakling in years.  Hopefully I'll be able to wash my hair tonight, but that's a long way to lift my arms.
• I really need to shower.  And do laundry.  That's the one thing that really sucks about these regular trips to the gym.  All the laundry.  (I know, I know, my life is horrible.)
• I was craving sweets tonight and tried to distract myself with a salad.  Needless to say, I am still craving sweets.

The End.

Sunday Funday Fatday

While I lived in a dorm in the land of the Rockies, my fellow interns and I proudly celebrated Sunday Funday Fatday every week.

For many reasons: Monday was the next day, we were usually a little worn out from Saturday night, and it was a good excuse for eating junk food.

Plus, Sundays were the best food days in the cafeteria. 

There was brunch that included Monkey Bread, which is one of the best things I have ever experienced. 

It was cinnamon sugary gooey goodness.  I think Paula Deen has one of the better recipes, which should make clear it's healthiness for you.

Some of my favorite Sunday Funday Fatday memories:

• Seeing who could eating a McDs cheeseburger in the fewest bites
• Having a 5 movie marathon
• Not getting out of sweat pants for the entire day
• Stopping at multiple fast food restaurants in one trip to get everything we were craving
  

More recently, with my new quasi health kick, I haven't been participating in Sunday Funday Fatday.  Especially since the holidays provide numerous opportunities for eating delicious, but not-so-good-for-you stuff.

Plus prior to my lifestyle change, I was pretty much engaged in eating whatever I wanted, whenever I felt like it.

So it's probably best that I take a break.

Rivalry Week

I am a sports junkie.  I like watching, I like playing, I just plain like 'em.

And this weekend is a big one for college football.  Rivalry week.

In what many are fondly referring to as the Crapple Cup (formerly the Apple Cup), my alma mater (go Cougs!) and our arch nemesis are facing off.

The beautiful thing about this game is that all bets are off as to who will win.

My team should lose as they are the worst team in the nation (not really an exaggeration), and most likely will lose, but we can cling to the hope of an upset.

Because in this game, stranger things have happened.

Go Cougs!!!

Familia

There's something about this time of year, and the things that have been going on in life, that has me thinking about family.

Spending time with family.

Being thankful for family.

I was reminded again tonight when I went to the Blindside.

The movie was seriously good.  Sandra Bullock was awesome.  I laughed, my sister laughed (a lot!).

If you're looking for a good movie to go see, this is one I would definitely recommend.

Check it!

Full of Thanks

The sky is gloomy, the beds are hard, and the pillows are small, but I am thankful.

Thankful to spending time with family, some of whom we don't get to see all that often.

Thankful for time to remember an amazing woman.

Thankful for champagne.

Thankful for naps and sports on TV.

Thankful for today.

Happy turkey day!

Ferry Boat

I spent a good chunk of my growing years in a place where riding ferries was necessary to get to the city.

It was a normal, common occurence to pile on with numerous other cars, try walking to the sway of the boat, and standing in the sea spray.

Today, I was very excited to ride a ferry again.  It's been a while.

Unfortunately, I was also trying to get on the ferry with hundreds of my closest friends, as we all headed wherever the holidays took us.

But I was still excited to be back on, even if I had to sit in line for almost 3 hours and missed a boat by one car.

No hard feelings.  Really.

One Thing I Need To Do

I am sitting at work, with the class that was supposed to be taking place now cancelled.  Life is rough I tell you.

I work from 1-3pm and then I'm done!  Until Monday!  I really can't tell you exactly how excited I am.

Tomorrow afternoon, the siblings and I will travel (just a few hours behind our parents) over to the peninsula for family time with my grandparents, some uncles, and a cousin.

We'll have our big dinner at Grampie and Thyrza's retirement home.

This means no cooking for us, and also gives an excuse for a having a second Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday.

I mean, leftovers are pretty much the best part.  My brother will not be happy if he doesn't get turkey pot pie.

I do not plan on participating in Black Friday, mostly because I really want to sleep in. 

Plus, I don't have many more presents to buy.  And to be honest, I'm digging online shopping these days.  There's just something about sitting on the couch in sweats will spending money that I like.

As we head off for Thanksgiving tomorrow--hopefully I'll still be posting--I am giving myself one assignment: take some dang pictures.

Seriously, this fall has been a complete fail in terms of using my camera.

And that needs to change.  Now.

FAIL...but it's not my fault.

I guess putting things off to the last minute can be a problem.

Like when it's NaBloPoMo and you wait until 11:30pm and then the internet doesn't want to work and you're screwed.

Like me last night.  So fail.  I admit it.

But I would like to go on the record as saying it's not completely my fault.

See, I was "busy" yesterday (and I'm using that term in the loosest sense.  I had football to watch, a new chandelier to help my dad install, a visit to make to the gym, a complicated mac & cheese recipe to undertake (delicious!), and basketball to play.

Of all of those things, basketball was probably the least successful.  I mean, I haven't played in a year and a half, and I was playing with all guys.  Never a recipe for success. 

My only advantage was that they were too nice to block my shots, so I was able to drive fairly freely.

And that would have been a real advantage, had I actually been able to make a shot.

Oh well, details.

Now the question remains, do I still try to keep posting daily?

I'm undecided.

Kryptonite

I am a complete and total sucker for macaroni & cheese, and (unlike my brother) I'm not talking about the stuff in the blue box.

By mac & cheese, I mean, freshly grated, creamy, butter-filled, baked pasta dishes.

It's my kryptonite, especially right now when I have a bridesmaid dress to look fabulous in this coming June.

A month ago when I was on the east side of the state, my sister and I had lunch at the Onion before I headed out of town.

I orded the Epicurian Mac & Cheese, mostly because when I saw the words "mac & cheese" I knew I didn't have a choice about what I was going to get.

My only hesitation was the inclusion of American cheese, which has never really been appealing to me.

The dish was ridiculously delicious.  Amazing, melt-in-my-mouth creaminess.

And now I'm on a quest to create something similar. 

Here's what I have to work from:


The Onion's BAKED EPICUREAN MAC & CHEESE
A blend of Brie and American cheeses, butter, whole cream, sea salt, cracked pepper, and a few other special ingredients. Finished with a crispy baked panko topping.

I Wish I May

Because I'm tired, it's Friday and I'm pretty much out of any sort of creative juice, I've decided to go with a little Christmas Wish list.

Just in case anyone was wondering.

Here's what I'm hoping for:

I'm digging the multiple necklace, layered look.  And having that look available in one piece is even more appealing.

I've been a fan of the slouchy, boyfriend sweater look from the start.  Throw on a belt, layer over a dress, the possibilities are endless.

I've never been a huge watch person, but with my current job and a recent trip to Costa Rica, where I never knew what time it was sin cell phone, I see the appeal. 

I've become a bigger and bigger dress enthusiast as I've gotten older.  I actually loathed dresses when I was younger.  Just ask my mom.  But now I do, and a sweater dress is a warm, comfortable, cute option for the colder months.

Who can have a sweater dress, or boots for that matter, without tights?  Add a little color and it's even better.

Books are always a safe bet.  I can't remember a Christmas without getting one or two.

So there you go.  Just a few things I wouldn't mind finding under the tree.  Although if someone wanted to go with a plane ticket to Europe or Cabo, or a set of new brake pads or a windshield, I wouldn't say "no."

A Great Woman

A couple weeks ago I wrote about a family crisis.  My aunt, who had suffered what the doctors thought were a series of small strokes, had slipped into a coma.

This woman, Auntie Glo, suffered from more health issues than most people can even comprehend.

A diabetic, Auntie Glo dealt with a kidney transplant, a kidney/pancreas transplant, more walking boots than I can count, sepsis, brain tumors, a leg amputated, and blindness.

(As a side note: did you know that when you get a new kidney or pancreas, they leave the old ones in? True story.  Weird story.)

And she did it all with an infectious positive spirit.  (Note to self: suck it up.)  Not to mention, she was pretty much a cat with nine lives.

That's not a metaphor.

Last week, the decision was made to move Auntie Glo to a hospice facility, as the doctors had determined that the brain damage was too great to recover from.  The series of strokes, combined with the radiation she had, had killed off too many cells.

Yesterday, shortly after midnight, Auntie Glo took her last breath.

When my dad came into to my room early in the morning, my first thought was relief.  Finally she is rid of her broken, bruised and battered body.

But there is definitely sadness as well.

This was the woman who took me to what may have been my first movie in theaters--101 Dalmatians.  She could make you laugh like nothing else.  She paid for the order at Starbucks for the person behind her in the drive thru.  She asked my sister and I for help styling her wig at Thanksgiving.

Auntie Glo was a great woman.

A Wee Bit Damp

I had a regular day yesterday.  You know, go to work, go home, stare at Facebook, go work out, and finished up with dinner with some friends.

The Tuesday-night dinner has become a regular occurrence, which is pretty much awesome.  I mean free food.  Come on.

This schedule, unfortunately, results in a Britney concert like wardrobe procession.  And tonight after a stop at the gym, followed by a MUCH needed shower, I decided to dress like a real person.

By that I mean, not just in sweats and a hat.

'Cuz that was last week.

In fact, I decided to venture near the cute end of the spectrum.  You know, dress, leggings, scarf, jacket type getup.  (As a bonus, this outfit is actually as comfortable as sweats, so it's a win-win.)

The problem with this choice was the fact that it was literally raining buckets of water.

I'm not even sure why I took a shower ahead of time. 

The major issue with the outfit was nothing was waterproof, I was wearing flats from Payless, and the scarf was wool.  Ok, major reasons. 

My only good choice of the evening was leaving my hair curly and not drying it.

You may be thinking that I am exaggerating about the water quantities, but a road that was clear on the drive to my friend's house had turned into a stream or river or lake or ocean or something.

It was serious.  I don't make this kind of thing up.

So I did what any sane person would do when I got home, put on sweats and drank peppermint hot cocoa (from Costco and absolutely delish, by the way).

Sometimes I wonder if that whole cute and fashionable thing is even worth the effort.

Phone Phobias

Okay, really, how many people actually enjoy using telephones?  I mean, really.

I used to detest it, but, what with all my maturing I've done, have gotten quite a bit better. 

This got me thinking about how the phone has been a major part of a few of my jobs.  Weird, right?

My very first official big-kid job was as a front office worker in a doctor's office.  It lasted all of a few months--basically from when school started until basketball began.  I didn't really explain that whole basketball thing clearly during the hiring process.

Because I was a normal 16-year-old, you know, going to school and everything, I worked the late shift.  This was awesome because starting at 5 or 6pm (I can't really remember) I got paid time and a half.

Score!

The hitch in this schedule was that I was never really completely trained.  I didn't know the rules for scheduling appointments or anything else.

Yet I still got in trouble for it.  This was a little freaky then. 

At this point in my life, I had a huge aversion to the phone.  I couldn't tell you where it came from, but it was real.

There were 3 people who worked in the front desk after hours and I spent the ENTIRE time avoiding answering the phone.

It didn't help that most doctors and nurses had left at this point, so patients could really talk to whoever they needed to anyways.  Nor did I have anyone to ask questions of.

Basically, it was awesome.

I wonder if my coworkers ever caught on to my antics?  Probably.  From what I've seen, most juniors in high school are not very smooth.

I Got Sucked In

I was moving to hit snooze on my phone's alarm for the third time turn off my alarm and get up this morning when I got a text from my boss.

Power was out at the University and I didn't have to be at work until noon.

It was a pretty fabulous way to start out the week, and Monday.

The downside of only working 1 hour today (but getting paid for 5.5--it's okay to hate me) is that my day swiftly devolved into sitting on the couch and watching crap reality TV.

More specifically, Keeping Up with the Kardashian's: The Wedding. 

In my defense, there isn't a lot to be found on TV at 3 in the afternoon, and I did intersperse my watching with Househunters and Say 'Yes' to the Dress.

Impressive, no?

My achievement for the day: going to the gym, which resulted in me struggling to be able to wash my hair.

What can I say, my arms are a wee bit sore.

Now excuse me while I go gear up for 24 hours straight of college basketball.

Is it me, or is it a little crowded?

Today I did a little Christmas shopping.

Although I suppose it's a bit of stretch to qualify all my shopping today as "for Christmas." 

In truth, I bought two Christmas presents, a shower present, and a few things for myself.

"One for you, one for me."  Just kidding, sorta.

I actually worked really hard to hold myself back from personal purchases.  In fact, most of what I purchased for myself were shower-related products.

Scouts honor.

I even passed up a super cute, sleeveless, pin-striped, summer weight shift dress from GAP.  Not that I'm bitter or anything.

And I walked through ALL of Pier 1 without considering a simple thing.  Although, I will admit I find throw pillows inspirational.

Don't ask me why.

I also went to Costco for lunch.  Their samples, particularly on Sunday, are the best!

What surprised me the most about the venture was how many people were shopping.  I mean, seriously, it's not even Thanksgiving.  I went now to avoid the crowds.  (And use my GAP 30% Give and Get discount.)

What is going on people?!

And I would know if it's a lot of people.  Our household visits Costco approximately 2-3 times a week.

That's no exaggeration either.

My guess is that's it the week dollar's fault.  Those Canadians are pouring over the border to take advantage like there's no tomorrow.

Aching

I've been paying for my newly acquired gym routine with very sore legs.

Watching me try to walk, or stand or sit for that matter, is a sight to behold.

Last night, I met up with a couple friends for a late night dinner (and adult beverages), I knew I just had to wear my new heels.

I bought them a while ago and hadn't had a chance to test them out.

That's mostly because I lead a rather exciting life living with my parents.  And I work two jobs.  And I'm lame.

But last night presented the perfect opportunity for the shoes, except for those really sore legs.

Watching me walk you'd probably never guess that I'd worn heels before, let alone owned numerous pairs.  Nor would you guess that I'd only had (gasp) one adult beverage over the course of 2.5 hours.

I could barely get in or out of my car without some sort of assistance due to muscle spasms, let alone walk like a normal person.

What's happening to me?

There's been a new development in life.

As I mentioned last week I joined a gym, and now I have a personal trainer.

I don't know who I am becoming.

The thing is, and don't ask me why I feel the need to justify this decision to the internet, I really enjoy working out.

Weird, right?

It's true though.  Right now, I'm kind of relishing the fact that it's painful to sit down, stand up, and bend over.

(Keep your mind out of the gutter!)

I mentioned previously that I've started to enjoy running, although "enjoy" may be a bit of a stretch.  But what I really like is lifting weights.

This is for a couple reasons.  Thanks to my athletic past (and the lawn mowing) I tend be a little stronger than the average woman.  I don't associate lifting with punishment, and the same cannot be said for running.  Because that's what running was in sports, torture.

Seriously, my lung are constricting a little just thinking about it.

Also, a personal trainer keeps my a little more accountable for getting to the gym, not just for my sessions, but outside of those as I know he'll check in to see what I've done on my "off" days.

Is it expensive?  Absolutely, but for now, the benefits outweigh the costs.

About that Ad

I'm not gonna lie, the internet scares me a wee bit.

Just recently I noticed that the ads on many pages seem to stalk my movements. 

If I go virtual window shopping apparently it knows exactly where I went and what for, and it doesn't forget.

At this point, I'm pretty sure that the internet qualifies as a living, breathing thing. 

And I'm not talking about your typical family pet, but an exotic creature ready to consume you (and your credit) at a moment's notice.

I've seen I, Robot, people. 

If I didn't have faith in Will Smith's ability to save the human race, I would be completely freaking out right now.

Plus, my obssession with the internet is such that I probably won't be parting with it anytime soon.

Like I said, I'm not going to lie.

Not My Grandma's Music (apparently)

A few years ago, before we realized just how demented (as in one who has dementia) my grandmother was, part of the family took a trip to Seaside.

That part of the family included my good friend and roommate, the Dancing Queen.  (she is a really good dancer and because of her I have legitmately learned some dance moves--think ballroom/swing-type stuff)

The trip was a bit of a logistical nightmare, because the people coming from the east side, besides my grandmother, were not going to be able to stay for the whole week.

This meant that while my grandmother had a ride to the coast, she didn't exactly have a way back.

It was decided that I would drive back with the Dancing Queen and my grandmother, and then fly home.

Very efficient.  And green.

In an effort to keep my grandmother from hating life (and, quite possibly, me), we stopped early on in the trip at a Fred Meyer.

The goal: some sort of music that my grandmother might actually enjoy.

The solution: a 3-CD compilation of old time gospel.  I kid you not.

And she didn't appreciate it, which is ridiculous considering hymns are some of her favorite music.

I can honestly say that most of the trip back, and the music involved, is a blur.  By that, I mean that I still listen to the CDs every day.

However, I do distinctly remember my grandmother saying at the end that next she would get to pick the music.

I avoided that fate by never driving her across the state again.

So long, Jess.

Over my many, many years of life, I have been a regular visitor out to my uncle's farm.

Growing up it was every summer, at least once, and sometimes for extended periods of time.  Some summers we visited long enough to take swimming lessons at the pool where my mom once lifeguarded.

By the time I was in college we were no longer visiting as regularly or for as long, but then, after tranferring schools, I was living there.

With family, close family.  It was pretty great.  Not only did I manage to get some good home cooked meals out of the deal, but I also got to play on the farm.

And by play I mean ride horses and make excuses for buying boots and western-style jeans.

Over all the years, all the trips, everything, there have been a few constants at the farm.

Two constants were Jim and Jess.  These draft horses were there before I was even alive, and I couldn't imagine a visit without stopping by to say hello to them.

This past week, Jess died.  She was around 30 years old.

Jim and Jess have been a very dependable duo, even as they have slowed way, way down over the years. 

As most horses don't live to be that old, it wasn't a complete shock.  But that doesn't mean her loss isn't felt.

Felt, I would guess, most by Jim as Jess has been his constant partner their entire lives.

She will be missed.

How much is too much?

I have a hard time knowing how to balance real life with the internet world.

Maybe balance isn't the right word.  Connect might be better.

Regardless of proper vocab, I'm just not sure.

First, there's the issue of people knowing what's going on in my life.  Between Facebook, blogging, Twitter, and the mostly abandoned Myspace, there are a multitude of options of ways to stalk get updates.

The same is true for keeping track of others.  With well over 500 Facebook friends, I see updates for people I don't really know.

My favorite is when people get engaged or married.  I'll read through comments people have left them or scroll through pictures.

It doesn't matter that our interactions were limited to one class project or meeting, I still want to know.  Or at least look at pretty pictures.

The lines between all these different technologies and outlets seemed to become more blurry everyday.  Maybe someone texts or Facebooks me in response to a blog. Then I respond to a tweet.  And they call.  And so on and so on...

It's confusing, I tell you.

All this online interaction and information sharing can lead to an anti-climatic real life.

Maybe you haven't seen or spoke to a good friend in days, but they update their status so often you know exactly what they've had for breakfast.

Whenever a person has some story or update to give me that I already know about via internet, I'm faced with the dilemma of how to react.

Surprise?  Consternation?  Shock?  Amusement?  Or do I just interrupt and tell them I already know.

Every once in a while I wish life could be a little more simple, but then I spend half an hour stalking checking on friends on Facebook and forget all about that.

Nothing to Tell

Right now, some of you are probably wondering about me.

Likely, all of you are.  I know I wonder about myself on a daily basis.

More specifically, you are probably wondering how I can drop a bomb such as "my aunt's in a coma" and procede to spend the next few days blogging about shoes and cars.

The truth is, there isn't much to report.  My aunt is still unconcious and we're playing a waiting game.

And honestly, I'd rather blog about shoes and cars than about sitting in an ICU or navigating the multiple members of the family to and fro. 

The big news of the weekend is that my father helped my grandpa use his cell phone's speakerphone, and grandpa can't get enough. 

Of course, my dad has to talk him through turning it on every single time, but that's beside the point.


Now I'm home, exhausted, and not at all ready for the week to begin.  Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Bridesmaid shoes? Check.

My cousin, the tall one, is getting married in June.

She's dubbed "the tall one," not because she's my tallest cousin (not by a long shot), but because she was the tallest roommate back in the days we lived together.

A few weekends ago, the crew (aka the bridal party...or the females at least) met in the city for a day o' wedding.

Thanks to, or maybe even in spite of, that weekend, bridesmaid dresses have been ordered.

More importantly, we selected shoes we thought would work.  And the tall one confirmed the choice just this week.

They are beauts, the shoes are.  Comfortable, cute, and elegant.

I can't wait to wear them for the tall one's wedding, and probably a few times before and after.

The purchase also gets me excited for the big day.

I think it can.

Today, while driving in the big city, I realized how much I would NOT want a manual if I lived here.

Mostly because there were steep hills everywhere, and people pulling way too close to my bumper, rain running all over the place, and a weird smoke-like smell that might have been coming from my car.

But I'm not sure if it was or not.

I really like having a manual, especially since my car is about as powerful as a dogs pulling a sled in the iditarod. 

If I have to get over a mountain, I better have some momentum otherwise the semitrucks will be passing me.  True story.

One thing I would give up about my car (besides the amazing hybrid gas mileage) is my stereo with Bluetooth and MP3 player capabilities. 

Literally, I will not give it up.  As in, I will tear it out of the car when I have to get rid of it.  Although by that time, the technology will probably be obsolete, since I know it's not cutting edge anymore.

Now excuse me as I look for some uplifting, upbeat music to drown out the reality of life. 

Sitting in a hospital just takes it out of me.

Relaxed. Totally.

Two in one day? What?!

It's true.  I am posting again.  Mostly because the last post was more like a breaking news announcement than anything.

Now that I'm laying on a hotel bed, lounging in yoga pants, using free wi-fi, having consumed a delicious shepard's pie, I'm feeling relaxed. 

I could fall asleep right now and be perfectly content with life. 

The only thing that could make life better (besides the looming disaster mentioned in my last post being over) is some sort of delicious in the form of dessert.

I'm watching teen jeopardy, which let's me feel a little bit more smart, and more normal.  These kids are interesting, to say the least.

Just kidding, I'm taking back the smart part.  These kids know way more random stuff than I ever have.

I have to say, sometimes it's totally worth paying a little more to stay in a nicer hotel.  Not that I paid, but that's not the point.

Now excuse me as I resume me TV viewing and avoid thinking too hard.

Breaking from the regularly scheduled program:

I swear I had something witty interesting to say today.  Cross my heart and stuff.

Then the family got bad news: my aunt is in the hospital (and has been for a bit) and is now in a coma.

So instead of putting together awesome blogging posts and taking naps, as I had planned, I will be spending at least today down in the Emerald City with family.

Any prayers you can send our way would be greatly appreciated.

Don't worry NaBloPoMo, I haven't forgotten you.  You're just not as important right now.

Also, one of our middle schools essentially burned down last night.  I'm waiting for the third thing.

Typing It Up

My job is pretty hard to complain about, not that I don't give it my best shot some days.

Sure, there are annoying aspects, like when a student gives a presentation with ten million statistics at a rapid fire pace and shows a music video that is impossible to keep up with.

Then again, there are also days (like yesterday) where I work approximately one hour, but get paid for six.

As I told a friend, if I go shopping those days then it's like I'm breaking even. $25 of groceries while I'm getting paid for work. Deal.

My job is transcribing, providing communication access in college classrooms for deaf and hard of hearing students.

I get the perks of school (learning interesting stuff--let me tell you about tsunamis) without the crap (assignments, essays, test, and TUITION). Plus, I'm improving someone else's life.

Just give me my gold star already.

For some (or most) of you, you probably know this all. I'm sure I've explained/talked about it before.

But I have to post everyday and I don't want to use all my good material up on the first day.

To give you a real feel for what I do, I thought I'd include some work "typing" or the shorthand we use in our program.  Now I just have to think of something to say.

i'm hpg jt NaBloPoMo l help m imprv blggg ovrll  for a whl now i'v felt frly unsprd abt blggg  evry once n a whl, i'l v sm brllnt ia t wrte abt, but most f j time i'm just typg whtvr j heck hppns t pop n my head  srry abt jt  k's bn rgh, i know  so here's to NaBloPoMo hpg jt k insprs m x many ojr blggrs  good nws: k crtnly c't get wrse (for m jt s) 

Pumping Iron Starts Now

I joined a gym this evening. I couldn't be more happy about it, for a number of reasons.

1) I have really missed working out. It's weird. I actually miss running a little, even if I don't enjoy it. And I really enjoy lifting.
2) The holidays are coming and I can feel a little less guilty about the ten servings of whatever if I am going to the gym regularly. And I won't need a new wardrobe (double win!).
3) I spotted a couple cute guys while I was there signing up. Not that I'm counting chickens or anything, but at least a girl can hope.
4) Signing up came with a number of free starter coupons: a free personal training session, free tannings, and much more.

I'm just hoping that my body will be just as enthused about this when I go to the gym for the first visit.

I am also really excited to take advantage of the fitness classes. I've never really gone that route before and I looking forward to trying out something different.

All I know is that one 20 minute run two months ago isn't enough. Unless I'm part sloth. Then I need to rethink the gym membership thing entirely.

Oh, and if anyone asks, I'm my best friend's roommate.

It's just money.

I have two major addictions when it comes to shopping: shoes and makeup.

Shoes I like because the size isn't associated with beauty in quite the same way.

Yes, I have above average sized feet, and have probably even gotten a couple comments, but our society doesn't associate large feet with 'fatness' in the same way pants sizes are.

Sorry for the soapbox side trip.

The point there being shoes are beautiful and I can't have enough and I spend hours drooling over boots ('cuz it's fall).

Makeup is just pretty. It's the eye shadow that gets me, with the sparkles and colors.

I also get sucked in to the special deals, and the kits that "save you money" and whatever other marketing ploys companies use.

I try the internet window shopping technique, but unless the shopping cart expires fairly soon after purchase, that is usually more dangerous than it is beneficial. All it takes is me looking at a product a couple times and I just know I have to have it.

(Or a special at Sephora: 20% off using FF2009 through today.)

I came about 5 minutes from buying three sweaters from Victoria Secret yesterday because I was going to get free shipping and a lip gloss set.

Dangerous I tell you.

I also justify spending habits. Like, for example, that shopping for gifts doesn't fall under the normal shopping category and is somewhat exempt from budgetary limits.

Don't go imagining the I am spending millions, thousands or even hundreds (mostly) on gifts, but I am much more likely to spend more or not worry about "deals" when it's a gift than when it's for myself.

So as the holiday season approaches, I am girding my loins (and my wallet) for an influx of temptations and opportunities to fill all the recently purged holes in my life (a.k.a. closet).

I'm not thinking. It's a curse.

Daylight savings combined with Halloween to make me feel like I need to fall asleep about three hours ago.

But I held out. And my sister is headed back to school tomorrow, so I was busy trying to suck all the nectar from our visit.

Currently we are engaged in a debate of worst actors ever. We can't decide between Kevin Costner, Keanu Reeves and Nicholas Cage.

Paul Walker was just added to the debate. But he gets points for hotness.

On a completely unrelated note, I've just made the important decision (internal, not part of the current discussion) to be a part of NaPoBloMo.

I've signed up to make it official and everything.

This could be the worst decision of my life. I'm not even exaggerating.

And I'll probably regret making this announcement

By probably, I mean I will. Tomorrow.

Numbers and stuff

You know what's funny/unnecessary/weird?

Our country's (and probably others) fascination with creating statistics to explain the world.

Seriously. We need to come clean.

"Hi, we're America. If something isn't quantifiable, we come with a mathematical equation for it."

"Hi America."

Because as we all know, the only truths in life exist in the sciences. It's in the handbook of life (Sec 1.1.1.1a)

Take for instance, consumer confidence. That's a phrase we hear quite often, in fact. As in, "consumer confidence has weakened with the downturn of the economy."

And now this has apparently turned into an English sentence. Don't tell me about the mistakes I'm making, though. Ignorance is bliss.

Say I were to ask, "What's your consumer confidence today?" The first that comes to mind is...

If your answer was "53.1," then your thinking straight. If your answer was, "Uh, pretty good I guess," then you aren't American.

Currently the Consumer Confidence Index is at 47.7. 90 means the economy is doing well.

The really good news is how accurate this number is. Why? Because it's sent randomly to 5,000 households.

That's seems like a good number since there are over 300,000,000 Americans.

Now excuse me while I go and poll my dogs to find out how much they need to outside.



http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091027/ap_on_bi_ge/us_economy

Wait for it.

I know, I just got posting about nothing. Hopefully you took my advice from the beginning and just ignored the post.

Sometimes it just helps to get things out there, okay?!

Anyways, back to why I'm writing for the second time today. (Not that I started telling, but whatever.)

I was reading an article about how experts think Amelia Earhart might have crashed on an deserted island and eventually died there with her navigator.

It was on Yahoo!, so you might have seen it.

The author mentioned that a partial skeleton had been found on the island, and they thought it was only partial because coconut crabs had made off with the rest of it.

This sounds like something that would be on Bones.

I'm thinking, "How big can these crabs be?"
Apparently big enough to eat a small child, or dog, or your head.

That's just sick, in a fascinating, can't-take-your-eyes-off-it kind of way.

Maybe those crabs didn't just make off with the bones, maybe they killed them. I bet it could happen.

Just hit 'ignore'

My current employment is not your typical 9-5 job. Normally I work 4ish hours a day, maybe a little more, maybe a little less depending on the classes I've been assigned.

Today was not one of those days.

I left the house at 8am and didn't return until after 2pm, and there was not a break to be had in between.

I know, you're probably saying, "6 hours, how did you survive?!"

I didn't even get a lunch, people. And I had to walk ALL the way across campus in less than ten minutes. In the pouring rain. This isn't some small institution of higher learning either. And I left my favorite travel mug in one of the classrooms.

Feel sorry yet?

No. Good. I don't really deserve any sympathy. I know my current situation is pretty sweet. That doesn't make this change of pace easy though.

Especially since it's Monday, which I'm sure all of you are well aware of.

In truth, the worst part was not getting a lunch. It made my head cranky (as opposed to the rest of me).

So happy monday!

If your lucky, you ignored this post like the 15 random requests I got on Facebook this weekend.

Love him, love him not.

I'm home alone this weekend.

And by home alone, I mean it's me and the dogs, with my brother making brief appearances when he feels like it.

The parents crossed the state to visit my sister for parent's weekend.

I was actually looking forward to this weekend. After last week's trip across the state, the day o' wedding for my cousin, and a full work week, I was look forward to a relaxing, restful, nothing-planned weekend.

Then a certain rascal showed me who was in charge.
And let me tell you, I'm not the one in charge. Got that message loud and clear last night.

Jackson is our 9-year-old White German Shepard/Yellow Lab who has a bum knee. I think sometimes he plays on our emotions.

Like last night, when he sat whining and whining some more, AT 3AM, because he couldn't hoist his 110 lbs. onto the bed.

Next thing I know, I am sleeping on the daybed in the family room and he is contentedly snoring on the couch.

How my having to be wide awake and get out of a warm, comfortable bed in the middle of the night helped him have a better life, I'll never know.

I do know that I am not feeling particularly rested today.

Jackson, on the other hand, is resting up for tonight.

"You are sitting in a chair, in the sky"

I like to share videos and clips that amuse me. Plus, it allows me to be lazy in my blogging.

Everybody wins.

Today's video is of comedian Louis CK on the Conan Show. It might be old. You might have seen it. I don't know.

Either way, it's hilarious.

The Olden Days

I kind of wish we still lived in the pioneer days.

Not for the long hours, high chance of death, and lack of spices for cooking. Call me crazy, but I can do without those.

Although Little House on the Prairie does make the experience sound rather ideal. It's kind of how reading The Boxcar Children always made me want to be an orphan living with my brothers and sisters in the woods.

For some reason, reading books causes me to throw all caution to the wind. Or all sense of reality. Most likely both.

When I think about, The Oregon Trail computer game was probably much more accurate, what with the broken legs, dehydration, and fjording flooded bodies of water.

Not that it wasn't fun to kill off your people in the game, but I don't think that would work in real life. At least not in terms of survival.

I was actually thinking, in terms of the pioneer days, that it would be really nice to have store accounts.

I could run down the street for my slab of beef and pat of butter, and pay for it later.

The store clerks were always so benevolent (in the books, at least). I wouldn't even have to pay right away. I could wait to fatten up my calf for market or get the harvest in from the fields.

We kind of have "accounts" now, but instead they are "credit cards" or "lines of credit" and the overseers of said accounts are anything but benevolent.

Trust me, I've tried the whole "fattening the calf" line. It doesn't work.

Wouldn't it be nice if it did. Even if I don't have a calf, I do have a medium-size black and white dog that could work in a pinch.

I know I pay taxes.

I get the draw for Canadians to come south and visit. And for the most part, I really don't mind.

Who can blame them for wanting to take advantage of our weak dollar and cheaper gas?!

A few years ago my family bought a car in Canada, back when the dollar was more like Superman instead of the mailman, and saved some ridiculous amount of money.

So really, I don't hold it against Canadians as a whole.

Seriously though, you DON'T own our roads.

It's not that I mind the lost and confused drivers. I mean, sure, they are annoying, but I've been that person driving around Vancouver, so I get it.

But you DO NOT own our roads.

Obviously I'm a little annoyed (just in case you hadn't caught that yet).

Here's the story:
I'm driving home from the east side of the state, having already logged almost five hours and a few hundred miles in the car.

I'm not a slow driver on the freeway, preferring to stay just a MPH or two below ten over. Fast enough to make good time, slow enough to (hopefully) not get a ticket. (It's worked so far.)

I make my move to the left lane, pulling in front of a Canadian with plenty of room to spare. Then ahead I see a cop car and immediately decelerate. I may like to go fast, but I know slower is better when driving by a cop car.

In response, the Canadian flashes his lights at me. Jerkface! So I get over to allow him ahead for his ticket and almost hit a car that was in my blind spot.

Needless to say, the Canadian quickly braked when he spotted the cop car. Ha!

Who pays for the roads and the cops. Not the Canadians, that's for sure.

Just sayin'.

Small Children

Last week I babysat twice, after a decade-long hiatus, for some family friends.

And when I say decade-long, that's pretty much how long it's been, except for a few hours in CO watching a friend's daughter.

Luckily for me (and the kids), last week's adventures turned out to be fairly pain-free.

The toddler went to bed before his parents left both times. He would talk to himself and rustle around, but was otherwise great (and by great, I mean asleep).

The second night, I watched two four-year-olds, one a preschool playmate.

To sum up the experience, I was there to make sure they didn't choke to death and made it into bed safely.

The kids, Pippa and Wes, were pretty much self-sufficient. I washed their hair in the bath and tucked them into bed (after Wes asked me if it was time for bed yet), but was otherwise unnecessary.

True story.

They did guess that I was 35 years old though. Funny how skewed your idea of age is when you are young.

Honestly though, I was just a tad freaked out about sitting. If it wasn't for my inability to say "no," I might not have even done it.

Luckily I won the child lotto and ended up with a great few kids.

That doesn't mean that I plan to make this a regular occurrence though.

But as I told my mom afterward, my current motto in life is "will work for money."

Do I know you?

I one of those people who looks around, stares at people, and is basically a little creepy while strolling around.

Not a lot creepy, but definitely a little.

This issue is compounded when I see someone that I may or may not know.

Unfortunately, it's a reality in my life that I might see someone from my near or distant past.

I know live about 20 minutes from where I spent my middle school/high school years (a.k.a. era of awkwardness).

And I work at the local university.

There are people I might know, or who have friends in common with me, everywhere.

In fact, it happened today.

At first I was just looking around while walking back to the office, but then I thought I might know him. So I stared longer.

Then I realized I knew him. He even nodded at me.

Now I'm thinking, "Do I smile, nod back, wave, stop to talk...I don't know what is most appropriate. AH!"

By the time I had built up this internal frenzy, the moment was over and both the guy and I had continued on our merry ways.

And the awkwardness lives on.

Eggnog

It was one of those mornings. And it was Monday.

I didn't have time to make (or buy) a caffeinated beverage.

I felt groggy and sleep deprived.

There was ice to scrape off my car. It was freaking cold.

I had to detour around a street I usually use. Then I couldn't find parking and ended up in a spot that just barely allowed me to open my door.

I couldn't concentrate at work, staring-off-into-the-abyss type focus.

But then there was an eggnog latte. A little ray of light in an other gloomy morning.

Passport Please?

Crossing the border is an experience that always makes me feel like I've done something wrong. Even if I haven't.

Sunday was no exception.

The way up into Canada involved an hour-long wait, not unexpected as all the Canadians returned home after plundering our stores and gas stations.

On the way back into the States, however, my border guard must have been slightly bored with the lack of traffic at 10 p.m. Here's how the inquisition went:

BG: Where are you from?

Me: Bellingham

BG: Is this your car?

Me: Yes.

BG: What were you doing in Canada?

Me: Meeting a friend for dinner.

BG: How do you know this friend?

Me: From my previous job.

BG: What do you do now?

Me: Work at the University.

BG: Doing what?

Me: I'm a transcriber.

BG: So you take notes.

Me: Something like that.

BG: Where did you eat dinner?

Me: Red Truck Brewing or something or other (Later I realized it was called Dix).

BG: Hmm. (Walks around car) Is your trunk open?

Me: Let me open it.

BG: (Investigates trunk, walks back around) I drink the same kind of milk (reference to the glass milk jug in my trunk).

Me: Really.

BG: Have a nice night.

Me: You too.

[End encounter]

Apparently, I appear to be a drug transporting, car stealing, unemployed woman who happens to drink milk. (Why I couldn't have just said that instead of writing out the long and boring conversation, we'll never know.)

I had an easier time getting back into the states a few years ago when the only identification I had with me was a driver's license.

Looooooooooong

My Monday turned into a doozy before I knew it.

I ran up to Vancouver yesterday afternoon to visit a friend (more on border crossing later) and not surprisingly, didn't get enough sleep to feel peppy Monday morning.

Who really feels peppy on Mondays anyways?!

Then before I knew it work was piling on top of work.

But don't worry, I'm not going to go off about my job. This time.

Suffice it to say, I worked about 11 hours today when it was all said and done.

I didn't get an application done for some seasonal employment. But I swear I will tomorrow!

Most importantly, though, I squeezed in a martini. How else was I going to survive?

Skills

Today I was walking to work behind a woman in work out clothes. She was smoking a cigarette as well.

Somewhat contradictory if you ask me. Not that you did.

Another one that always gets me is people who smoke while on their bicycles.

Except that takes a lot more skill than just plain old walking. I mean, just think of all the things we are (mostly) able to do while walking: chew gum, text, talk, eat, drink.

All with varying degrees of success of course, depending on the person. Me, only semi-successful.

To smoke while riding a bike you have to smoke, you have to pedal, and you only have one hand for steering.

If that's not skill, I don't know what is.

And since I don't smoke and haven't ridden a bike in about 8 years (even if you never forget), I don't think it's something I want to try anytime soon.

Learning to Drive

Up until I purchased my car just a hair over two years ago I could claim no competency for driving a manual.

(Have I talked about this? If so, too bad.)

My manual experiences, and yes there were plural, prior to that consisted of:
A) Driving a borrowed Subaru with my dad. All I remember is getting stuck at a stop sign on a hill and him yelling. My dad isn't a yeller.
B) Two separate occasions with my best friend, who would probably agree that they weren't the best. On the second, both she and her mom were in the car waiting for the other to tell me what to do.
C) An old farm truck that was more likely to drive of senility than of a mis-use of the clutch.

Fast forward to two years ago. I have been car shopping, somewhat seriously, and focusing mostly on Toyota Tacomas (the car of my heart).

One pick-up I test drove was even a manual (and ridiculously beyond my budget). The salesman put his life in my hands that time. I think I killed it about 7.5 times.

Then my dad spots a Honda Civic Hybrid being sold privately in the paper. A car that is almost the exact opposite of a pickup.

It is a manual.

I drive it once and decide to buy it.

Impulsive me? Actually, almost never. Unless it involves shoes.

Needless to say, I am now quite competent at driving a manual.

Although, Gwenyth (that's what I call my car) is a little high maintenance and prone to occasional pouting (a.k.a. stalling). Luckily, I can pop her in and out of first and she restarts herself.

It's like magic.

Not worth reading.

Let me just start off by saying that I really do care about this blog, at least on some level.

But I've been busy, yada, yada, and the blog has taken the hit. Work started back up, I'm mowing, and I've been housesitting/dogsitting.

That's not even counting my relentless social life. Haha. That was a funny one.

I mean, I have a lot of friends (or new TV shows to watch).

Plus, I've been contemplating things like grad school, money making schemes, and why I don't live somewhere tropical.

On top of all of that, I've had to wake up before 7am. It's rough, this life of mine.

And now, I spent way too many words on my extremely boring, unblogworthy life.

On that note, it's past my bedtime. And I'm only partially joking.

Magic?

Sometimes I'm not sure what people who create labels and instructions are thinking.

I'm not the first blogger to cover this topic and I doubt I will be the last, but I saw something the other day I just thought was ridiculous.

It was a bottle of hairspray, a nice brand, too.

The instructions said to hold the bottle a foot from your hair and move it like a magic wand.

Really? A magic wand?

Just who do they suppose is using the bottle? Hogwarts students?

It just seems ridiculous to me. I certainly have never been trained in the magic wand art.

Also, I would imagine that not everyone uses their magic wand exactly the same.

But since magic wands aren't a part of real life, I can't really be sure about that.

Joining the Health Care Debate

Sort of, but not really at all.

Mostly I just want to pass along this video. It cracked me up.

Happy Tuesday!

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

Open to Suggestions

It could be the three glasses of wine, the 6 hour drive across the state, or the lack of sleep this weekend, but I feel like I could fall asleep in about 2.5 seconds.

Instead I am choosing to watch Bones.

What can I say, I'm a glutton for TV shows. I was trying to watch House, but FOX (at least on my TV) was having major issues and I didn't understand about every other word.

It was painful.

Speaking of TV, I watched the Emmys last night, which made me realize that I am glutton for suggestion--as a consumer and as a person.

After seeing a clip of Hugh Jackman's performance from last year's Oscars, I found myself on Youtube.com watching said performances.

Now I also want to try Yoplait Whips frozen, feel the need for a slouchy sweater (although I have previously mentioned that) and want to ask questions of the stadium full of Best Buy empl0yees.

Whoever realized how gullible humans are must have made a mint.

Now excuse me while I fall asleep, after I finish Bones and take a shower, that is.

Sometimes I want to rip my hair out.

I drove across the state yesterday to my alma mater to visit family and friends and not go watch our football team get their butt kicked.

It's too painful and I'd rather watch good football on TV. Sorry.

The drive is about as long as 3-4 eastern seaboard states and half of Europe. I can usually make it in under 6 hours because of my awesome ninja skills, knowledge of cop hang outs and countless experience, but it's construction season here in our great state.

And yes, that is a season. You can't convince me otherwise.

Instead the freeway was turned into a two-lane highway. On top of that, the genius construction people warned of the decreased lane-age about ten miles early causing everyone to freak out and slow down WAY too soon.

This meant that people either A) got over way too soon or B) flew past everyone until they had no choice but to get over.

It sucked until the semi-driver, who was probably more fed up than me, started driving down the middle of both lanes forcing people to actually get over so traffic could start moving again.

Sometimes, and by sometimes I mean very rarely, I wish I was driving a semi so I could rule the road including people with their fancy, overdone, jacked up pickups. I'm all for pick ups, but we know you are trying to compensate for something by being ten feet off the ground.

Plus who wants to make that much effort to get into their car. Really. Really. (Thanks SNL Weekend Update Thursday Edition.)

But I made it and have already seen people, eaten good food, and sweated because apparently it's still very much summer here and approximately 20 million degrees even though it's almost October.

The world is a weird place, I tell you.

Now excuse me while I accompany my cousin and her fiance to Moscow (and I don't mean Russia) for bridal registering. Such a fun Friday.

Actually, I'll probably abandon them and go in search of shoes.

Wishin' and Hopin'

Because I have contracted some sort of death cold, evil sickness blogging has become even less of a priority than previously.

Or at least having to put thought into my blog is no longer a priority.

Instead today I provide you with my current wishlist, of some things I want and some (well, mainly one) things I need. Without further ado...

I saw this skirt in Nordstrom's catalogue and fell in love. Pencil skirts are my favorite and I love the colors!








These are Seychelles shoes and will hopefully replace my most comfortable, loved, and now worn wedges. I got the originals over five years ago and have been looking for the perfect replacement.


This fits into the need category. I knew the time for new tires was quickly approaching and my last tune-up affirmed that. And these bad boys are what I will be purchasing.







I finally have my room organized and looking good. Except for a couple unsightly plastic drawers. A highboy dresser would take care of that problem, so I've been scouring Craigslist in search of a tall dresser to call my own and complete my room.




Maybe it's the evil cold or the rainy day, but nothing sounds more wonderful to me than a comfy slouchy sweater. I'm craving one of my own.





I fell in love with Bobbie Brown's creme shadows years and years ago, around the time I got my most comfortable wedges actually. Now she's come out with metallics and I'm excited to go see them in person. And possibly buy one or five.

Death warmed over.

Yesterday I finished the lifelong project of organizing my room/closet and now have much less crap that doesn't serve any purpose.

At the same time I contracted some sort of evil, soul sucking cold, so that the organization that was supposed to help me sleep easily was negated and I was left awake and researching car tires at 2 a.m.

The good news is that I now know what tires I am buying for my car, because, unfortunately, it's that time.

I spent the morning/early afternoon running errands around town with my mom and generally feeling like death warmed over.

I also ended up spending more money than planned and not actually buying the one thing I REALLY wanted to get: hangers.

Who knew it was so hard to find what you want?!

Instead I ended up with new shoes (because the ones I wore tore up my heels in less than ten minutes), a new shirt (because my old one didn't match the new shoes), a valance for my room, closet apparatuses for multiple skirts and pants which is I suppose closely relate to hangers.

Now I'm going to drink Gatorade and pretend like I'll be fine in two hours for a lawn mowing session.

Until then...tally ho!

More Video Goodness

I'm pretty sure we are ready for the Michael Jackson madness to just be done.

Yet here I am posting this video.

But for two reasons: 1) I love acapella and 2) it's just plain ridiculous.

Enjoy! Oh, and maybe one of these days I'll stop being lazy and start actually writing.

Michael Jackson remix @ Yahoo! Video

I Gotta Feeling

I'm not an avid Oprah watcher. Though at this point in my life I kind of have the time for it.

This evening though, some random channel had a clip from her block party kick off and it was awesome.

Or at least part of it was pretty cool.

I mentioned the other day my appreciation for I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas.

Of course the song has been all over the place since. Well, and before really. It was played prior to the kick-off of the NFL season and the Black Eyed Peas performed it on Oprah.

That's not the cool part though. What was really cool was the mob dance that took place.

Check it out.

Stream of Conciousness

Can I just say how excited I am about the new fall TV season. It's mostly because I have no life.

I wouldn't say I'm excited about Black Eyed Peas as a band, even if I do know almost all the words to Where is the Love.

But there is something about I Gotta Feeling that is just plain catchy. I mean, who doesn't want tonight to be a big night?

Speaking of good night, I am REALLY tired. This is because I am on summer sleep mode, but had to wake up early. That was all because of the goodness of my heart.

Woe is me.

Actually, woe is our dog, Jackson, who blew out his ACL and is now more three legged than four. Hauling around 109 lbs. of dog is not easy with only three wheels.

Back to my exhaustion, I'm crawling into bed right now and you can't stop me.

Creepy Crawly

Apparently it's fall already.

The past few days have been blustery, cloudy, and not what I would call 'warm.' And I'm not okay with this change.

But writing about the weather (yawn) is not really the point I have today. My point is: spiders.

I don't like them.

Not in a girly-scream-and-run-away kind of way, but in a bite-me-and-I-swell-up kind of way.

And they're everywhere right now, which I notice because I am our harvesting plots of lawn (a.k.a. mowing lawns) with my father.

It's like a freaking spider obstacle course out there.

If I've learned anything in my life it's that cornered animals (or spiders) attack because they feel threatened, and I'm pretty sure me running into their web face-first would seem like an attack to them.

Instead I have to combine my ninja skills, ballet moves, and cat-like reflexes to not end up covered in Spideys' webs.

The worst part is, there is pretty much nothing I can do about it.