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Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
10 things I hate about you
1. I have a problem when it comes to sweets. Forget sweets, I'm a chocolate whore
2. I'm jealous of my single friends.
3. Now that I've gotten married, I can't help but compare everything about any wedding I ever go to my own. (mine was just better, right?)
4. I don't really like people. I avoid crowds when I can.
5. I sometimes fantasize about becoming a stay at home housewife.
6. I don't write enough on my own blog.
7. I completely turned up my nose on going to my high school reunion.
8. I don't really like other people's children all that much :-(
9. I would leave my husband for Michael Ealy. I really would and he knows it.
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=45306416915&set=a.45306381915.68182.45111191915
10. The most drama I've ever been through in my life was not with a guy, but with female friends.
2. I'm jealous of my single friends.
3. Now that I've gotten married, I can't help but compare everything about any wedding I ever go to my own. (mine was just better, right?)
4. I don't really like people. I avoid crowds when I can.
5. I sometimes fantasize about becoming a stay at home housewife.
6. I don't write enough on my own blog.
7. I completely turned up my nose on going to my high school reunion.
8. I don't really like other people's children all that much :-(
9. I would leave my husband for Michael Ealy. I really would and he knows it.
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=45306416915&set=a.45306381915.68182.45111191915
10. The most drama I've ever been through in my life was not with a guy, but with female friends.
I love Sue Sylvester, my new hero!
"People who dress like librarians? All sex addicts."
"We've lost the true meaning of Halloween: fear."
"Oh God, Will, let me break it down for you. High school's a dry run for the rest of your life. Not everyone can be champions; not everyone should be champions. The world needs fry cooks; bus drivers..."
"You three are boring me now. I'm gonna go do something else."
"You may be two of the stupidest teens I've ever encountered -- and that's saying something. I once taught a cheerleading seminar to Sarah Palin."
"You don't deserve the power of Madonna. Simply put, you have all the sexuality of all those pandas down at the zoo who refuse to mate."
"You know what, I checked out of our conversation about a minute back, so good luck with your troubles, and I'm gonna make it a habit not to stop and talk to students because this has been a colossal waste of my time."
“I empower my Cheerios to live in fear by creating an environment of irrational, random terror"
"I will no longer be carrying around photo ID. Know why? People should know who I am.”
http://www.fox.com/glee/
Sunday, September 26, 2010
She's an adult now
So my baby sister finally started college this fall. Wow! She has so much to look forward to that I can't begin to explain. New teachers, new people, living on her own, new memories… No more parents checking her every move, no more 7 to 2 structured school schedule, no more home cooked meals waiting for her when she comes home, no more “mom, dad can I get a 20?” A lot of freedoms, with which comes even greater responsibilities.
Ten years ago this time of year I was being shipped off to my school. I remember the prior weeks of packing, the imagining of how my room would look, the dread of worrying about getting along with my roommate. How overwhelming it was to start in this new world. And by myself? I mean yes, I was somewhat independent- part time job (i.e. a tax payer), come and go as I please (well, since I’m a girl, that’s a very loose, “come and go as I please”), had experienced having a “boyfriend”. Over half of my arguments with my parents at this point were now me trying to defend why I “didn’t need them”, but this time it was different.
You don’t come home to mom and dad anymore. I could no longer turn up my nose at a home cooked meal, help dad in the yard on the weekends, hang out with the people I shared high school with. There was a lot I’d have to figure out and deal with on my own.
So, my husband I spend our Saturday going up to Frostburg to help my sister get settled in. By the time we arrive, my parents and her have moved all the big stuff in I help my sister put up some posters. I work on setting up the Internet connection with her computer. My dad is simultaneously looking through her schedule. When he asks her how she knows what buildings to go to, she’s not sure, so I find a couple of maps in some Welcome handouts, and then begin writing down the right building for her classes, so she can easily reference my notes later. I then proceed to help her find the laundry room, show her where her RA’s room is, explain to her what an RA is. I know I’m telling her a lot at once, but she needs to know all this, right? I’m only being helpful. At one point, my husband pulls me aside and says, “You see your sister is getting overwhelmed, don’t you? You’ve got to give her space, let her go… She’s an adult now.” I brush him off, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “I have to. She needs my help.”
At that same moment, I glance over as she and my mom are putting away waters in the micro-fridge. I notice my sister has developed into a gorgeous young lady. She has curves like a woman. She is taller than my mother, and has developed her own very unique and cool style. She seems a bit unsure, but I realize I can’t stay here with her throughout the semester. Half the experience of college is finding it out on your own. She IS AN ADULT. If I don’t stop “helping”, she’ll never know how to start taking care of herself. She’ll never know how to LIVE.
So I stop. javascript:void(0)
And when we finally get ready to leave, my sister asks, “What am I supposed to do tonight?”
I simply say, “Unpack, prepare for Monday, and have fun.”
Ten years ago this time of year I was being shipped off to my school. I remember the prior weeks of packing, the imagining of how my room would look, the dread of worrying about getting along with my roommate. How overwhelming it was to start in this new world. And by myself? I mean yes, I was somewhat independent- part time job (i.e. a tax payer), come and go as I please (well, since I’m a girl, that’s a very loose, “come and go as I please”), had experienced having a “boyfriend”. Over half of my arguments with my parents at this point were now me trying to defend why I “didn’t need them”, but this time it was different.
You don’t come home to mom and dad anymore. I could no longer turn up my nose at a home cooked meal, help dad in the yard on the weekends, hang out with the people I shared high school with. There was a lot I’d have to figure out and deal with on my own.
So, my husband I spend our Saturday going up to Frostburg to help my sister get settled in. By the time we arrive, my parents and her have moved all the big stuff in I help my sister put up some posters. I work on setting up the Internet connection with her computer. My dad is simultaneously looking through her schedule. When he asks her how she knows what buildings to go to, she’s not sure, so I find a couple of maps in some Welcome handouts, and then begin writing down the right building for her classes, so she can easily reference my notes later. I then proceed to help her find the laundry room, show her where her RA’s room is, explain to her what an RA is. I know I’m telling her a lot at once, but she needs to know all this, right? I’m only being helpful. At one point, my husband pulls me aside and says, “You see your sister is getting overwhelmed, don’t you? You’ve got to give her space, let her go… She’s an adult now.” I brush him off, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “I have to. She needs my help.”
At that same moment, I glance over as she and my mom are putting away waters in the micro-fridge. I notice my sister has developed into a gorgeous young lady. She has curves like a woman. She is taller than my mother, and has developed her own very unique and cool style. She seems a bit unsure, but I realize I can’t stay here with her throughout the semester. Half the experience of college is finding it out on your own. She IS AN ADULT. If I don’t stop “helping”, she’ll never know how to start taking care of herself. She’ll never know how to LIVE.
So I stop. javascript:void(0)
And when we finally get ready to leave, my sister asks, “What am I supposed to do tonight?”
I simply say, “Unpack, prepare for Monday, and have fun.”
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Motherhood
So I volunteered to watch my god children this weekend. 3 and 5. I haven't been the best god mother. I haven't seen them since April, and I've been out of touch with the god mother. So you'd think I'd be excited! Lots of energy to see and play with them? All sorts of activities to plan?
No, no, no. They are actually here running around, constantly asking me questions, losing attention of the planned activities that I have set-up. And I just asked myself, “when can I drop them off”? I mean they are really beautiful, loveable girls, but it’s been one and a half hours, and I feel exhausted already!! What’s wrong with me? I’m thinking I’m just not mother material. They were cute for the first half hour, now they’re more like little untrained puppies, that I have to watch 24/7 (but at least potty trained, lol!) I’m disappointed in myself. I don’t think I’ll be ready to be a full time mother anytime soon :-(
Monday, July 12, 2010
My wish list....
I'd be able to eat chocolate as many times a day as I felt like it and not worry about gaining weight.
Working out would be easy for me, and I'd enjoy it.
I'd have a crystal ball that allowed me to see into the future when I'm really stressed out.
I'd be able to work from home as many days a week as I cared to, doing something I love, and making a seven figure salary.
Flowers (of my choice) would grow in any spot in my yard, just by willing it so.
Housework would get done, just by willing it so.
My grandparents would still be around to see me as an adult.
Plane trips to Bora Bora only seemed like a couple of hours long.
I could go natural with my hair one day, relax it the next, then natural again.
Seasons of Sex and the City were still being made on HBO
My husband was actually an HGTV employee, and could fix or stage anything. If he could cut down a tree and build a pergola in an hour, the better.
I had spent more time laughing instead of studying in college.
You have to pass a test before you are allowed to procreate.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Gardening is hard
My new hobby this summer has been becoming an expert gardener. I love flowers (mostly looking at them), and I see magazine articles at the grocery store of these absolutely BEAUTIFUL landscapes. Then I will spend several hours throughout the week glued to some home and garden episode of Curb Appeal or Yard Crashers, thinking I can do that! Then there’s this lady at my job who is always chatting about the positives of having a garden. I think I could envision myself with some type of garden scene in my backyard. I’ve got a house I really like with a blank slate back yard, and so I think it’s only right that I build some type of nature preserve.
Well it all sounded good in theory, but executing has been a different story! So we started off with this landscaper who did about 75% of what he quoted to us. But it wasn’t so bad, because I think we only paid him about 85% of what we agreed to. But he got us off to a good start. We have a couple of flower beds now with roses and some other perennials in the back yard. Then he planted a bunch of annuals in the front yard, put down mulch around all the trees and shrubs and cleaned up otherwise desolate sections. So I took it upon myself to purchase some perennials and big art deco style pots for my deck and porch. It all looked really nice in the beginning, but then I realized the importance of watering. Thank God for the rainy May and June we had. But I’m learning, I have to actually go out EVERY day and water these things. The end products are beautiful, but when you miss a couple of days, it’s horrible. Blooms and soil dries up and the plant starts to give you this pitiful look of misery.
Watering isn’t easy either. At first I had this watering pot that required 2-3 fill ups, and that I walked around the yard with. That turned into watering what was within close proximity and ignoring the yard plants. But after doing that May and June, I can’t take the look of my yard plants anymore, so I’m starting to engineer a sprinkler system. I went to Lowes and purchased a hodgepodge of hoses and directional sprinklers which I plan to assemble and arrange around the yard myself.
And then there’s weeding, and then next month I’ll have to start changing out the soil in some of the plants. September will be the start of planting flowers for next year. I had no idea it was this much work and I didn’t know it would take so much time! Right now, I just don’t know about next year… Gardening is really a beautiful hobby, but it’s hard.
Well it all sounded good in theory, but executing has been a different story! So we started off with this landscaper who did about 75% of what he quoted to us. But it wasn’t so bad, because I think we only paid him about 85% of what we agreed to. But he got us off to a good start. We have a couple of flower beds now with roses and some other perennials in the back yard. Then he planted a bunch of annuals in the front yard, put down mulch around all the trees and shrubs and cleaned up otherwise desolate sections. So I took it upon myself to purchase some perennials and big art deco style pots for my deck and porch. It all looked really nice in the beginning, but then I realized the importance of watering. Thank God for the rainy May and June we had. But I’m learning, I have to actually go out EVERY day and water these things. The end products are beautiful, but when you miss a couple of days, it’s horrible. Blooms and soil dries up and the plant starts to give you this pitiful look of misery.
Watering isn’t easy either. At first I had this watering pot that required 2-3 fill ups, and that I walked around the yard with. That turned into watering what was within close proximity and ignoring the yard plants. But after doing that May and June, I can’t take the look of my yard plants anymore, so I’m starting to engineer a sprinkler system. I went to Lowes and purchased a hodgepodge of hoses and directional sprinklers which I plan to assemble and arrange around the yard myself.
And then there’s weeding, and then next month I’ll have to start changing out the soil in some of the plants. September will be the start of planting flowers for next year. I had no idea it was this much work and I didn’t know it would take so much time! Right now, I just don’t know about next year… Gardening is really a beautiful hobby, but it’s hard.
Happy 4th of July!
And how was your 4th?
Overall, it was fun. After spending the early afternoon at my parent’s house, we ended up at a friend’s house. By around 6pm, I found myself sitting at their kitchen table with three new mommies. Mommy 1 had 3 kids, ages 6, 4, and 19 months. Mommy 2 had a 6 year old and a newborn. Mommy 3 had a 4 year old and was about 3 months shy of delivering a new one. Guess how much of the conversation I contributed to?
The conversation was a combination of cute, funny, and downright scary! It started off with story exchanges about “… Amy is enrolled in _______ this summer….,” and how “…Tommy doesn’t wear 4T anymore, can you believe it?” I actually felt like I was sitting in English class, trying to convince myself that Shakespeare really was English. After about 45 minutes, the conversation turned to me.
“So when are you and your husband expecting?”
“Honestly, we thought you all might have some news for us today!”
“How long do you plan to wait?”
Hmmm…. My answer comes out stuttering, surprised, and kind of clueless. Will they shun me if I don’t say the right thing? Is this the extent of how I would ever be able to contribute to the conversation? Would I be considered inhumane if I’m happy being childless right now?
“We want to wait awhile.” I want to say more, but I really don’t know what that would be. So my answer leads to advice and stories about pregnancy. I heard something about an early break of the placenta, and morning sickness through the second trimester (yes, that’s 6 frickin’ months of sick). I heard, “Don’t wait too long” a couple of times. Honestly, it was interesting and I appreciate the warnings, but a little overwhelming for someone who believes herself way too selfish for kids at this point in her life.
I’ve attended similar events with married + children couples and the majority of the conversations the women want to chat about are the kids. I’m usually the youngest of this particular group when you compare how long I’ve been married. As far as I’m concerned we’re still in that phase of trying to decide if we really like that person we jumped the broom with, but whenever we hang out with this type of social circle I feel so out of place, like an outsider. I can’t really contribute anything to the conversation.
I look over at my husband who is in heavy conversation with a group of dads on the other side of the room. I know for a fact that children and marriage is not anything close to what they are talking about. I also know that we’ve decided to wait on that bundle of joy, but then why leave me at a party, cornered with a group of mommies? Isn’t that a little dangerous? I’ve talked to him about the way I feel in these situations, but he doesn’t get it. I’m used to the conversations about getting the newest Coach purse, venting about Master’s work, or who’s about to do that big buy first home purchase? At this particular moment, I long for the back and forth with my friends about interpreting “what he meant when he did that”, and the ongoing planning of the next girls’ trip.
I politely excuse myself, walk over to where my man is hanging out with the dad’s and sit down. He wraps his arm around me and I whisper in his ear, “Time to go”.
Overall, it was fun. After spending the early afternoon at my parent’s house, we ended up at a friend’s house. By around 6pm, I found myself sitting at their kitchen table with three new mommies. Mommy 1 had 3 kids, ages 6, 4, and 19 months. Mommy 2 had a 6 year old and a newborn. Mommy 3 had a 4 year old and was about 3 months shy of delivering a new one. Guess how much of the conversation I contributed to?
The conversation was a combination of cute, funny, and downright scary! It started off with story exchanges about “… Amy is enrolled in _______ this summer….,” and how “…Tommy doesn’t wear 4T anymore, can you believe it?” I actually felt like I was sitting in English class, trying to convince myself that Shakespeare really was English. After about 45 minutes, the conversation turned to me.
“So when are you and your husband expecting?”
“Honestly, we thought you all might have some news for us today!”
“How long do you plan to wait?”
Hmmm…. My answer comes out stuttering, surprised, and kind of clueless. Will they shun me if I don’t say the right thing? Is this the extent of how I would ever be able to contribute to the conversation? Would I be considered inhumane if I’m happy being childless right now?
“We want to wait awhile.” I want to say more, but I really don’t know what that would be. So my answer leads to advice and stories about pregnancy. I heard something about an early break of the placenta, and morning sickness through the second trimester (yes, that’s 6 frickin’ months of sick). I heard, “Don’t wait too long” a couple of times. Honestly, it was interesting and I appreciate the warnings, but a little overwhelming for someone who believes herself way too selfish for kids at this point in her life.
I’ve attended similar events with married + children couples and the majority of the conversations the women want to chat about are the kids. I’m usually the youngest of this particular group when you compare how long I’ve been married. As far as I’m concerned we’re still in that phase of trying to decide if we really like that person we jumped the broom with, but whenever we hang out with this type of social circle I feel so out of place, like an outsider. I can’t really contribute anything to the conversation.
I look over at my husband who is in heavy conversation with a group of dads on the other side of the room. I know for a fact that children and marriage is not anything close to what they are talking about. I also know that we’ve decided to wait on that bundle of joy, but then why leave me at a party, cornered with a group of mommies? Isn’t that a little dangerous? I’ve talked to him about the way I feel in these situations, but he doesn’t get it. I’m used to the conversations about getting the newest Coach purse, venting about Master’s work, or who’s about to do that big buy first home purchase? At this particular moment, I long for the back and forth with my friends about interpreting “what he meant when he did that”, and the ongoing planning of the next girls’ trip.
I politely excuse myself, walk over to where my man is hanging out with the dad’s and sit down. He wraps his arm around me and I whisper in his ear, “Time to go”.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Blah
Blah
I feel so blah. Some days I don’t want to talk on the phone. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to pay any bills. I don’t want to clean. I don’t care if the sink is full of dishes. I don’t care if the bed isn’t made. I don’t care if I wait until I have NO clean underwear before doing laundry. I don’t care if I splurge on a weeknight eat-out. I don’t care if the trash isn’t taken out. I feel so blah
I look outside and it’s miserable, rainy, cold, wind blowing. It makes you want to curl up inside with a big warm blanket. I wake up and look outside and now it’s beautiful. The sun is shining and bright. People are outside going about their day. Things are happening, so many things are going on- but then I feel completely and utterly lazy and I just want to sit outside in the sun and DO NOTHING. I’m usually a morning person, but some days I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to stay curled up in the comfy protective position that I’ve created through the night.
Then I think of the good things. I remember what I’ve accomplished. I remember the hard work to get there, the midnight study sessions, the all night papers, the lack of regular sleeping habits, teacher criticism and inspiration. I think of my supportive family, immediate family, extended family, ancestral family. I think of memories with my friends. I think of strangers that I may have influenced. I think of strangers I may have ticked off. I think of our wedding, all the planning that was involved, the dress, the flowers, the people, the vows, and most of all the day. I wish I could do it all again.
I think of what I still want to achieve. I think of continuing to turn our house into a home. I think of becoming enough of an expert in gardening to manage flowers in my backyard. I think of Thanksgiving dinners, family cookouts…. I imagine a little girl with her dad’s eyes and mom’s complexion. I wonder if I’d ever be able to live abroad one day without getting homesick.
I feel, I want, I remember, I think, I wonder.
I feel so blah. Some days I don’t want to talk on the phone. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to pay any bills. I don’t want to clean. I don’t care if the sink is full of dishes. I don’t care if the bed isn’t made. I don’t care if I wait until I have NO clean underwear before doing laundry. I don’t care if I splurge on a weeknight eat-out. I don’t care if the trash isn’t taken out. I feel so blah
I look outside and it’s miserable, rainy, cold, wind blowing. It makes you want to curl up inside with a big warm blanket. I wake up and look outside and now it’s beautiful. The sun is shining and bright. People are outside going about their day. Things are happening, so many things are going on- but then I feel completely and utterly lazy and I just want to sit outside in the sun and DO NOTHING. I’m usually a morning person, but some days I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to stay curled up in the comfy protective position that I’ve created through the night.
Then I think of the good things. I remember what I’ve accomplished. I remember the hard work to get there, the midnight study sessions, the all night papers, the lack of regular sleeping habits, teacher criticism and inspiration. I think of my supportive family, immediate family, extended family, ancestral family. I think of memories with my friends. I think of strangers that I may have influenced. I think of strangers I may have ticked off. I think of our wedding, all the planning that was involved, the dress, the flowers, the people, the vows, and most of all the day. I wish I could do it all again.
I think of what I still want to achieve. I think of continuing to turn our house into a home. I think of becoming enough of an expert in gardening to manage flowers in my backyard. I think of Thanksgiving dinners, family cookouts…. I imagine a little girl with her dad’s eyes and mom’s complexion. I wonder if I’d ever be able to live abroad one day without getting homesick.
I feel, I want, I remember, I think, I wonder.
LeBron
LeBron
So imagine this. It’s Thursday about 9:30pm. I’ve just finished tutoring and returning home. My husband is just getting home after getting his brakes changed. I took off from work earlier in the day to take my time to pack for a weekend getaway with friends and also to get the house in order before I travel. SO I’m thinking (sigh of relief), I’m ready to spend some time with my man and just enjoy each other’s company (movie, chat, etc) until we fall asleep. But, oh, his brain works so much more differently.
Me: So let’s watch Avatar tonight?
Him: Babe, it’s the playoff game tonight!
Me: Wasn’t the playoff game last night?
Him: It’s the playoffs
Me: [Blank stare]
Him: It’s ongoing, so it’s been on the last couple of weeks.
Me: Oh, good, then it’s not a big deal if you miss tonight!
Him: Uhm, it’s LeBron
Me: I’ll be gone all next week straight! Is LeBron more important than m?
Him: [Blank stare]
Me: I can’t believe you! You’ve seen LeBron play before, in fact you watch him play all the time. And every time it’s the BIG game
Him; Commences to explain to me the current situation which involves, the importance of Cleveland winning this particular game, LeBron being a free agent, and something else, I really couldn’t begin to rehash….
So is there any need to tell you, that I’m a bit frustrated at this point?? He wins this time because I’m too tired to keep it going, and I give in and recluse into surfing the net as he sits next to me watching the game. And what I got to see was astounding, so I just needed to share the hilarity in it. He yells at the TV, cursing several times. If I wasn’t in the room, I might think that someone had damaged his car or overcharged him on his cell phone bill. Then there are the actual words that come out, directed at the TV. As if the TV is responsible for LeBron’s mistakes- “what the f---? Are you f--- stupid? How the hell….?” It’s amazing to me that a sporting activity could inspire reactions that range from uncontrollable, fiery anger to complete, mind-numbing glee! And to add to this fiasco, he’s texting back and forth with friends about a pass, a miss, anything deemed important. Sometimes, he even picks up calls and talks trash that if it ever directed at me, would probably make me cry. About an hour later, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I was taken by a sudden, uncontrollable seizure, I wouldn’t be noticed.
So later that night, the game is over, we’re getting ready for bed. He’s in a down mood because his team (and no- he has not stock, no ownership, no collegiate loyalty, and receives none of the proceeds from the game but it’s still his team) didn’t win. As we climb into bed, and I turn away from him own purpose, hoping he’ll notice my disappointment at being ignored, he says, “It was great spending time with you tonight, babe.” I am dumbfounded!
So imagine this. It’s Thursday about 9:30pm. I’ve just finished tutoring and returning home. My husband is just getting home after getting his brakes changed. I took off from work earlier in the day to take my time to pack for a weekend getaway with friends and also to get the house in order before I travel. SO I’m thinking (sigh of relief), I’m ready to spend some time with my man and just enjoy each other’s company (movie, chat, etc) until we fall asleep. But, oh, his brain works so much more differently.
Me: So let’s watch Avatar tonight?
Him: Babe, it’s the playoff game tonight!
Me: Wasn’t the playoff game last night?
Him: It’s the playoffs
Me: [Blank stare]
Him: It’s ongoing, so it’s been on the last couple of weeks.
Me: Oh, good, then it’s not a big deal if you miss tonight!
Him: Uhm, it’s LeBron
Me: I’ll be gone all next week straight! Is LeBron more important than m?
Him: [Blank stare]
Me: I can’t believe you! You’ve seen LeBron play before, in fact you watch him play all the time. And every time it’s the BIG game
Him; Commences to explain to me the current situation which involves, the importance of Cleveland winning this particular game, LeBron being a free agent, and something else, I really couldn’t begin to rehash….
So is there any need to tell you, that I’m a bit frustrated at this point?? He wins this time because I’m too tired to keep it going, and I give in and recluse into surfing the net as he sits next to me watching the game. And what I got to see was astounding, so I just needed to share the hilarity in it. He yells at the TV, cursing several times. If I wasn’t in the room, I might think that someone had damaged his car or overcharged him on his cell phone bill. Then there are the actual words that come out, directed at the TV. As if the TV is responsible for LeBron’s mistakes- “what the f---? Are you f--- stupid? How the hell….?” It’s amazing to me that a sporting activity could inspire reactions that range from uncontrollable, fiery anger to complete, mind-numbing glee! And to add to this fiasco, he’s texting back and forth with friends about a pass, a miss, anything deemed important. Sometimes, he even picks up calls and talks trash that if it ever directed at me, would probably make me cry. About an hour later, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I was taken by a sudden, uncontrollable seizure, I wouldn’t be noticed.
So later that night, the game is over, we’re getting ready for bed. He’s in a down mood because his team (and no- he has not stock, no ownership, no collegiate loyalty, and receives none of the proceeds from the game but it’s still his team) didn’t win. As we climb into bed, and I turn away from him own purpose, hoping he’ll notice my disappointment at being ignored, he says, “It was great spending time with you tonight, babe.” I am dumbfounded!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
What is sexy?
So I'm on my way to albuquerque, NM for work. I'm sitting on a plane, lodged in between 2 large men reading the latest issue of Glamour thinking y has only an hour of my 4 hour flight passed so far? I just finished reading a quick article about what guys find sexy, which of course inspired this particular blog.
Of course there's the obvious "well if she drives a stick shift" and I'm thinking my first car was a manual but I think when guys saw that, although they remarked they were impressed I think they were more so intimidated. Then there's the common "well when she just ties up her hair after a long day and throws on a tee shirt..." and I start to think what my man would say if he was asked. Would it be that I tend to wear grandma underwear to bed, confidently, and regularly? (im pretty lazy when it comes to my bedroom wardrobe) or maybe the fact that its really hard for me to let things go? I can argue him under the table! (What am I thinking- that would definitely be the least sexy to him. Or would it be the fact that I can be a complete nerd and clutz in some situations? This is actually hard. Describing me as sexy is similar to likening a child's juicy juice drink to a Cosmo.
What if I were to pick it? Anytime I take off my glasses? While I'm cooking some extremely complicated recipe and I fix him a plate? No, no, no.... When I actually wear makeup which is very rare (lol, there's that laziness again!) When I try to plan an actual romantic event, with food, music, kisses, contacts? Oh wait, maybe when I leave him alone when the game is on.
I don't know. I'll ask.
Blah
Of course there's the obvious "well if she drives a stick shift" and I'm thinking my first car was a manual but I think when guys saw that, although they remarked they were impressed I think they were more so intimidated. Then there's the common "well when she just ties up her hair after a long day and throws on a tee shirt..." and I start to think what my man would say if he was asked. Would it be that I tend to wear grandma underwear to bed, confidently, and regularly? (im pretty lazy when it comes to my bedroom wardrobe) or maybe the fact that its really hard for me to let things go? I can argue him under the table! (What am I thinking- that would definitely be the least sexy to him. Or would it be the fact that I can be a complete nerd and clutz in some situations? This is actually hard. Describing me as sexy is similar to likening a child's juicy juice drink to a Cosmo.
What if I were to pick it? Anytime I take off my glasses? While I'm cooking some extremely complicated recipe and I fix him a plate? No, no, no.... When I actually wear makeup which is very rare (lol, there's that laziness again!) When I try to plan an actual romantic event, with food, music, kisses, contacts? Oh wait, maybe when I leave him alone when the game is on.
I don't know. I'll ask.
Blah
Monday, May 24, 2010
The lyrics in this song really resonate with me so I wanted to share...
Glitter In The Air lyrics
Songwriters: Mann, Billy; Moore, Alecia;
Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it
Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face
And said I just don't care?
It's only half past the point of no return
The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn
The thunder before lightning, the breath before the phrase
Have you ever felt this way?
Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone
Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?
It's only half past the point of oblivion
The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run
The breath before the kiss and the fear before the flames
Have you ever felt this way?
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
**Fave part in the song**
There you are, sitting in the garden
Clutching my coffee, calling me sugar
You called me sugar
Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself
Will it ever get better than tonight? Tonight
Thanks to: http://www.elyrics.net/read/p/pink-lyrics/glitter-in-the-air-lyrics.html for providing the lyrics
Songwriters: Mann, Billy; Moore, Alecia;
Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it
Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face
And said I just don't care?
It's only half past the point of no return
The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn
The thunder before lightning, the breath before the phrase
Have you ever felt this way?
Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone
Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?
It's only half past the point of oblivion
The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run
The breath before the kiss and the fear before the flames
Have you ever felt this way?
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
**Fave part in the song**
There you are, sitting in the garden
Clutching my coffee, calling me sugar
You called me sugar
Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself
Will it ever get better than tonight? Tonight
Thanks to: http://www.elyrics.net/read/p/pink-lyrics/glitter-in-the-air-lyrics.html for providing the lyrics
Crack-head
So I’m signed up for this aerobics class.
At times it can be really fun. I got fooled into that early on! You go in there, you get a sense of girl power, you think, “this isn’t exercise, it’s dancing and it’s darn fun!” So at the beginning, I’d say for about a month, I was really into it. I was going 2-3 times a week and then I started dropping off because of a busy schedule, inconvenient class times, and most of all laziness.
I have these cycles too. I get really motivated and do really well for a month. Then I slow down the next month and go half as much and then I go like the next two months one or two times total. And then the cycle of motivation begins again! I could never understand how the “regulars” did it. Every Tues and Thursday or Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. I mean, I got so unmotivated as quickly as I become motivated. And what made it worse was that the teachers were so damn happy! They seemed to live for their classes. Some were so good they could bring up current event topics during a routine. They start shouting, “1 and 2 and 3 and Hey did anyone see ‘Dancing with the Stars’ last night? Boy was it good!” I think I heard one time that exercise is supposed to create/ stimulate endorphins and endorphins make you happy, but it didn’t seem to work for me. I honestly would be in the middle of a high intensity workout barely keeping up with the “top of the curve” routine; I’m ‘sparkling’ profusely; I’m in pain, thinking about the beach I’d rather be lying on; the instructor is telling us to “lift higher!” or “push more!” and I think to myself- this chick has got to be a crack-head; how can she keep going?!
So why am I bringing all of this up? Well I’m in one of my cycles again- the unmotivated month- and I’m wondering what I can do to inspire myself. I wonder what it would be like to become a crack-head (aka the aerobics instructor). I mean think about it… you get paid to be fit; paid to stay in shape. One of my biggest motivators in life is money! While it doesn’t necessarily drive me it certainly gives great directions. So can cash be an inspiration to workout? If I can move from student to teacher, then not only am I OBLIGATED to go, I’m financially bound. More importantly, it’s a goal. I’ve always worked out for the reasons of “I want to be in better shape,” or “I want to fit a smaller size” but it doesn’t keep my attention. Maybe if I try to set the goal of training to become an instructor? I certainly don’t want to get up there and embarrass myself and cycles can’t occur for a regular instructor (right?). Who knows if I’d ever really make it, and this may just be a new entry for me in my ever repeating cycle, but wouldn’t it be tremendous if it worked? Guess we’ll see….
At times it can be really fun. I got fooled into that early on! You go in there, you get a sense of girl power, you think, “this isn’t exercise, it’s dancing and it’s darn fun!” So at the beginning, I’d say for about a month, I was really into it. I was going 2-3 times a week and then I started dropping off because of a busy schedule, inconvenient class times, and most of all laziness.
I have these cycles too. I get really motivated and do really well for a month. Then I slow down the next month and go half as much and then I go like the next two months one or two times total. And then the cycle of motivation begins again! I could never understand how the “regulars” did it. Every Tues and Thursday or Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. I mean, I got so unmotivated as quickly as I become motivated. And what made it worse was that the teachers were so damn happy! They seemed to live for their classes. Some were so good they could bring up current event topics during a routine. They start shouting, “1 and 2 and 3 and Hey did anyone see ‘Dancing with the Stars’ last night? Boy was it good!” I think I heard one time that exercise is supposed to create/ stimulate endorphins and endorphins make you happy, but it didn’t seem to work for me. I honestly would be in the middle of a high intensity workout barely keeping up with the “top of the curve” routine; I’m ‘sparkling’ profusely; I’m in pain, thinking about the beach I’d rather be lying on; the instructor is telling us to “lift higher!” or “push more!” and I think to myself- this chick has got to be a crack-head; how can she keep going?!
So why am I bringing all of this up? Well I’m in one of my cycles again- the unmotivated month- and I’m wondering what I can do to inspire myself. I wonder what it would be like to become a crack-head (aka the aerobics instructor). I mean think about it… you get paid to be fit; paid to stay in shape. One of my biggest motivators in life is money! While it doesn’t necessarily drive me it certainly gives great directions. So can cash be an inspiration to workout? If I can move from student to teacher, then not only am I OBLIGATED to go, I’m financially bound. More importantly, it’s a goal. I’ve always worked out for the reasons of “I want to be in better shape,” or “I want to fit a smaller size” but it doesn’t keep my attention. Maybe if I try to set the goal of training to become an instructor? I certainly don’t want to get up there and embarrass myself and cycles can’t occur for a regular instructor (right?). Who knows if I’d ever really make it, and this may just be a new entry for me in my ever repeating cycle, but wouldn’t it be tremendous if it worked? Guess we’ll see….
Monday, May 17, 2010
“I want a wife”
A friend of mine once said to me… “Caroline, I want a wife.” She is female and so I said, “uhm…babe… is there something you want to tell me?” After giving me a death stare she said, “No, I don’t want a wife for companionship; of course I want a man for that, but I want a wife for what they can do.” I thought about this briefly at the time, thought it was cute, but didn’t put much more thought into it. Then I got married and found out that she was ABSOULTELY right.
When I married my husband, I found that a strange and very specific surgery takes place. The man receives a secret lobotomy- I’m dead serious. And in the removal of this particular section of his brain, he ceases to function as the independent person that you knew him for when you dated. Honestly, it’s one of mother nature’s cruel tricks. I’ll explain.
Point 1: The kitchen has become a foreign place to him
While we were dating, I remember on several occasions being woken up to a freshly prepared breakfast- not cereal and a nutra-grain bar, but eggs, bacon, toast, grits, fresh fruit… I remember getting off work to hang out with him in the evening, and getting to his place to find a special dinner prepared by HIM. But now, I’ve noticed that he doesn’t seem to remember how to wash a dish, let alone cook! Since marrying, I’ve gotten ONE (exactly ONE) meal prepared for me by the “husband” version of this person. I think I also received a mild attempt when a cereal bowl was filled for me as well? Grocery shopping is as he puts it, “all me” and kitchen cleaning has become completely reliant on me. Instead of asking him to wash the dishes, I ask him to load them into the dishwasher, because cleaning a dish has turned into “rinse it and stick it on the drying rack”. I asked him once… “Did you want to make dinner a couple of nights this week?” And I got- “but you do it so well, I’d just mess it up!”
Point 2: Common sense is out the door.
I don’t like dumb people. I just don’t have the patience. Anyone who knows me knows I have pretty high expectations. When I was dating I had some guidelines, some of which were college educated, income minimum, finance savvy, common sense. And my “final pick” has all that stuff, but the last one is tested A LOT. Post-wedding, the displays of common sense are few and far between. Can you please explain to me why someone so educated, someone entrusted with the lives of minors on a regular basis, someone who is VERY financially savvy can have such as the following conversation with me?
Me: “Why is there broken glass all over the front stoop of the house?”
Caveman: “Oh, yeah. I had an accident with the window today. There was this icicle hanging from the roof [Note: the icicle was directly in front of an upstairs window], so I threw a [very large] shovel directly at it [and the house] to knock it down. Didn’t want it to fall and hurt someone and then we get sued…[wink]” I am on the receiving end of things like that at least 2x a month!
Point 3: He can no longer find anything
Guess what?! My name is no longer the one on my birth certificate. In fact I haven’t heard that one in awhile. Instead I hear, “Babe, have you seen by _______”. It’s funny in a way, because in the course of his lobotomy, I believe that God has stepped in and complimented his loss with a gift just for me- sharpening my senses to those similar to a cyborg blood hound. I regularly notice the location of things and my memory has increased ten-fold. In the course of noticing locations, I automatically, internally process it for future reference. For instance when hearing, “Babe, have you seen my wallet?” My brain automatically remembers the last time I saw it. Then I quickly interview him about his recent whereabouts, and am able to locate the said item (in 30 minutes or less! I’m like 15 and 0, by the way). I’m amazed myself sometimes, and the places we will locate things- inside his shoe, on the ground outside, trash can…. It’s scary.
I love him, and these events make life so memorable, but if his new shortcomings are becoming my new duties of a wife, then I want one too!
A new and liberating "do"
I’m almost 28 years old and I’d say I’ve learned a lot so far. I know all about buying and selling a home. I’m SLOWLY learning the tricks to surviving a first year of marriage. I am constantly learning how to deal with all the interesting types of people I work with. But most recently, I’ve learned something that has tremendously changed my life for the better. Something that adds so much more value to my well being…. I’ve learned that tampons are my friend!
Ok, so you’re probably saying, “what the hell?” I’ll explain. I think I was 10 when I had my first health class? Do you remember your own? The introduction to the usage of a pad and a tampon. The pad- good, great. Something to capture the ever wonderful time of the month when the lining of my uterus decides to spill out uncontrollably for 5-7 days (less if you’re lucky). In my young, inexperienced eyes, the pad was a great invention- usually large enough to provide a non-evasive approach to protection, and small enough to remain minimally noticed. Definite clean up to manage, but otherwise straight forward usage. I’m liking this concept.
And then there’s the tampon.
I remember that the explanation of this clever device came with the picture of a lady in a half elevated lunge position. Accompanying this instruction was usually a picture, cross sectioning the wall of a vagina, showing how to actually insert the device. Following are various stages of my life that have experienced the tampon since this brief introduction.
10 years old: It looked so awkward! Intrusive, borderline torture device. I mean how the heck am I supposed to get this thing in? Cardboard rough applicator, insertion of a thick stub of cotton. What if it gets stuck? Can I take away my own virginity? And then having to eventually look for a flimsy string to yank the thing back out? Too complicated, not for me!
High school: Almost monthly I would receive the free promotional teen packages, from various sources and they would include some type of “time of the month” supply for girls. At every new opportunity to “try it”, I constantly re-enforced my stance with the dangers of toxic shock syndrome, the concern of affecting my reproductive ability [what I now know to be myths], and any other excuse that would justify avoidance at using this strange contraption.
College: I finally (for a day) gave in. The “
But recently (7 years later), something very peculiar happened. It all started with my period deciding to come super early. This one particular, life changing time, I wasn’t prepared with my usual supply of pads, I was in the office, and to add to mother nature’s funny little joke, NO ONE had a pad! I was angry!!! What the crap?? Why was my monthly visit coming so early? I was pissed about the endurance of a pad for this extended amount of time, thinking of the additional hassle and annoyance that was sure to come with the extended amount of time. Alas, I had to rely on borrowing what I could which ended up being the enemy device.
And as I walked to the bathroom with the horrible little thing, fuming, I tried to prepare myself mentally. But instead of preparing my mind with all the negative history I’ve had with the said item, I tried to focus on conquering it. Tampons are used by millions of women a day, right? There’s obviously a huge market for the darn things. The millions if not billions of users out there can’t all think it’s so horrible. I’m more educated then I was at 10, so I know the difference between health concerns and myths. Have I ever really put a 100% into giving the said item a chance when I tried it? Not really, and maybe if I’m more open to the idea it won’t be so bad. Worse case, restroom paper towels (although unreliable) are useful.
It was liberating! Amazing! I went out and bought my own stash and some days I forgot I was on my period. No mess! No leaks. No more waking up in a horrible mood because I’ve slept in a fetal position to avoid leaks. No more avoidance of being held at night by my significant other in fear of incorrectly positioning my pad. It was wonderful, enlightening, and I can’t over stress how liberating, especially when put in correctly!
So call me late, old fashioned, whatever. But don’t we all have our quarks? People have their own preferences that we become so accustomed to and then we resign ourselves to the things we “would never do”. So I just wanted to share my most recent, fun and memorable experience of a very awesome and definite “do”.
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