Yeah, I know you've been chewing your nails and hovering near the edge of your seat for this. :)
We have almost everything done as far as the cabinets go. The carpenter and installers came over early Monday morning and began ripping the kitchen apart. It seemed to be fairly easy for them to do, which makes me wonder how they've stayed up all these years! It was apparent that the people who built this house also built the cabinets, because it was the first time we'd ever seen naked sheet rock anywhere in this house. I suppose that's also why they were never quite right, somehow. Oh, it wasn't that they weren't useful or that they were ugly or anything, but they were just kind of weird. Lots of space you couldn't use, doors that wouldn't quite close, and narrow shelving were the main problems. Note to everyone out there: unless your builder is also a master cabinet maker, always find an expert to make your cabinets or you'll be very sorry later on! Of course, most new houses aren't built like ours was, so you probably don't have to worry about it. :) At any rate, I thought I'd be sad to see the old cabinets go, but I wasn't! Not even a little bit.
The process took them longer than they originally thought, I think. The massive counter tops that Steve built were a bit of a pain to remove, but they finally got it all ripped out and got down to business. I was working in my office most of the time they were here, and every time I'd walk out for something, they'd made tons of progress. It was a fascinating kind of thing to watch!
They ended up working until well after 5:00, and they didn't quite have everything finished, but the lion's share is done! It looks amazing so far, and they've effectively given us twice the storage space we had before! Yay! I'm crossing my fingers that that means we can get rid of the mismatching shelving we had to get to store overflow food, and I also hope that means our corners won't be full of cans and boxes we couldn't fit anywhere else. The pantry alone is enormous! I'm not kidding, it's like Underground-Railroad-hiding-place big. I'm just very grateful we were able to get such nice pieces of furniture for such a reasonable cost. We were very lucky.
Of course, it isn't all perfect, but we had surprisingly few issues. The sink hole is a bit too big, so the sink slid aside when Steve was trying to screw the clamps in and one of the screws cracked a spot of the laminate. We are still waiting on a pair of doors that had accidentally been measured wrong and had to be redone and the handles had to be ordered and they weren't in yet. Also, the island hasn't been set into the floor because we can't put it anywhere permanently until everything else is finished. The people will be back next week to finish up the details. We also can't start putting things into the cabinets until after the hinges and handles have been installed and calibrated. Related to all of this is that we are still waiting for the electrician to come back and add the plug for our stove and microwave, and Steve had to remove the sink again to redo that part, so we still have no electricity or plumbing in the kitchen, but I'm still completely tickled over everything so far.
I don't want to put pictures up until it's all done, but you'll be amazed at what a difference the new work has made! We will still have some painting and stuff to do after that, but even with the sheet rock showing and the gouges in the walls from the other cabinets, it will still look beautiful!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
NOW SHOWING
Today has been a blah day. I woke up in the wee hours of the morning feeling like death due to, I assume at least, mild food poisoning and/or Ebola. Yes, I either ate something slightly off, or I've contracted a rare, deathly, hemorrhagic disease. I can only guess that it feels the same to have either. :)
Anyways, I've been mostly dragging around the house, and in between continuing to try to clean all of the detritus out of the cabinets and sprawling listlessly across many of our household surfaces, I've been on an epic YouTube journey. I can't even remember where it started but I've become fascinated by a few of the Japanese feeds I've discovered and I thought I'd share them with you, because...why not. You may not be as interested in these things as I am, but I'll tell you about them anyways!
I actually first came across this guy a few months ago. The user goes by the name RRcherrypie, and his channel has become very, very popular as of late. If you want me to be honest, I'm completely fascinated by his videos, but I have no idea why. That's not a joke, I really don't know what it is about his videos that is so interesting to me. He basically takes different kinds of weirdly complicated Japanese candy or craft kits and makes them for the camera. He also seems to be an enthusiast for a type of vintage Japanese toy called Konapun, which is some kind of miniature kitchen sets and fake food. He never talks, there is no background music, and the only sounds are the ones he makes opening the packages and mixing things up. He's also completely meticulous with whatever he's doing. Whatever he makes, it's always beautifully presented. It's oddly soothing. I've watched several of his videos over and over. This video is one of the first I saw, and the stuff he's making is an actual candy kit you can make and eat.
If that sort of thing interests you, there are a couple of other people who do very similar videos: MarimoMarshmallow and Bonobos25.
This next one is kind of similar to the guy above, but instead of just doing candy and toys, this person actually makes pastries, desserts and other stylized, but otherwise regular, foods. I think this is more interesting to me because it shows the cultural differences between the ingredients and foods we normally see. Mosogourmet shows how to make more traditional kinds of Japanese foods, which are still much cuter than what we have! One of the things I really enjoy is when they show the tools they use to make some of these things. They are so specific and unusual.
This last one is more on par with what I would consider a regular cooking show, except that it's called "Cooking With Dog" (not what you think, by the way), and it's narrated by a poodle that has a French by way of Japanese accent. At least, I think that's what it is. It's definitely a Japanese guy doing the voice for the dog, but I think he's trying to do a French accent. Someone watch one of these and tell me if I'm right! Anyway, the recipes are all very traditional Japanese things and the woman who makes them is kind of adorable.
Don't get me wrong, I do watch other things other than Japanese cooking stuff, but these have been my favorites recently! Hopefully you'll like one of these too. :)
Anyways, I've been mostly dragging around the house, and in between continuing to try to clean all of the detritus out of the cabinets and sprawling listlessly across many of our household surfaces, I've been on an epic YouTube journey. I can't even remember where it started but I've become fascinated by a few of the Japanese feeds I've discovered and I thought I'd share them with you, because...why not. You may not be as interested in these things as I am, but I'll tell you about them anyways!
I actually first came across this guy a few months ago. The user goes by the name RRcherrypie, and his channel has become very, very popular as of late. If you want me to be honest, I'm completely fascinated by his videos, but I have no idea why. That's not a joke, I really don't know what it is about his videos that is so interesting to me. He basically takes different kinds of weirdly complicated Japanese candy or craft kits and makes them for the camera. He also seems to be an enthusiast for a type of vintage Japanese toy called Konapun, which is some kind of miniature kitchen sets and fake food. He never talks, there is no background music, and the only sounds are the ones he makes opening the packages and mixing things up. He's also completely meticulous with whatever he's doing. Whatever he makes, it's always beautifully presented. It's oddly soothing. I've watched several of his videos over and over. This video is one of the first I saw, and the stuff he's making is an actual candy kit you can make and eat.
If that sort of thing interests you, there are a couple of other people who do very similar videos: MarimoMarshmallow and Bonobos25.
This next one is kind of similar to the guy above, but instead of just doing candy and toys, this person actually makes pastries, desserts and other stylized, but otherwise regular, foods. I think this is more interesting to me because it shows the cultural differences between the ingredients and foods we normally see. Mosogourmet shows how to make more traditional kinds of Japanese foods, which are still much cuter than what we have! One of the things I really enjoy is when they show the tools they use to make some of these things. They are so specific and unusual.
This last one is more on par with what I would consider a regular cooking show, except that it's called "Cooking With Dog" (not what you think, by the way), and it's narrated by a poodle that has a French by way of Japanese accent. At least, I think that's what it is. It's definitely a Japanese guy doing the voice for the dog, but I think he's trying to do a French accent. Someone watch one of these and tell me if I'm right! Anyway, the recipes are all very traditional Japanese things and the woman who makes them is kind of adorable.
Don't get me wrong, I do watch other things other than Japanese cooking stuff, but these have been my favorites recently! Hopefully you'll like one of these too. :)
Monday, June 18, 2012
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
Hey! I'm back! Oof. I haven't written on here for a long time, but I have reasons! Maybe not great reasons, but I have them. :) Actually, I've been somewhere between really stinking busy, distracted, and asleep, so pick whichever one you like the best and run with it.
1) Two weeks ago I was back at Vacation Bible School running A/V for the assemblies. I wasn't even around the kids that much and it still exhausted me. I'm not kidding. I was at the church between 8:30 and 12 every day. I would maybe talk to a few kids before things got started, and on one memorable occasion I stayed in a hallway with some of the smallest kids while their teacher was in another room for a minute or two, and it was all I could do to make it back to the sound booth and collapse. I'm convinced that children suck the vitality out of anyone who happens to be in the same building with them, whether or not they actually interact with them. Oy. By the time I'd leave for the day, I'd have to go home and take a nap, which makes me feel so very old.
The preacher also asked me to help out a bit in the office, which I didn't mind doing, but he seems to think I know a lot more about IT stuff than I actually do. I guess since I'm married to Steve I'm supposed to know how to fix computers, and I suppose I've picked up a few things, but I certainly don't know nearly as much as some people assume I do. Luckily I knew enough to help him out, so it wasn't a complete bust. He also asked me to add things to the church website, which I was completely unfamiliar with, but the program turned out to be super easy to figure out, so that was good. All in all it was a great week, except for the chronic fatigue I suffered because of the litttle energy vampires.
2) The whole cabinet adventure has gotten underway, and the kitchen is a complete wreck. While I stayed with my brother this past weekend (Mom and Grant were on their annual pilgrimage to Atlanta) Steve and his dad spent Saturday yanking out appliances, capping off water pipes, and generally causing necessary mayhem. As of Saturday afternoon, I have no way to cook or wash dishes, and no counter space to prepare anything that doesn't require cooking, so trying to figure out the food situation has been grim. We haven't even found a place to plug in the microwave yet, so mostly we've been getting take out. Don't get me wrong, I like fast food, but I don't love how it makes me feel when I've eaten a lot of it! I'm also certain that the dietician is going to have a stroke when I have to go back and see her this week and tell her what I've been eating! At any rate, I'm excited that the process of getting the new cabinets has begun, but now that means I'll be packing dishes, cooking tools, and food into weird places all over the house until the cabinets are installed.
3) Oooooh, but speaking of food! Mr. Lee's fruit has arrived early and he's given us a cubic ton of the most gorgeous blueberries, blackberries and peaches! The blueberries are huge and sweet, and I've made muffins and pancakes with them so far. I've also used the dehydrator I got for my birthday to dry some of the blackberries and blueberries. The blueberries are weird when they're dry, but they're still darn tasty. The blackberries are also good, but very fragile. They don't taste like much and they're kind of seedy, but I like them. They are a really good and filling snack! The peaches, though...y'all....the peaches. You have no idea how amazing the peaches that Mr. Lee grows are. They smell so good! When I got the first batch from him, I just stood there and sniffed them for two days. I wanted to waller on them like a dog. I guess I finally understand why they do that! They are just some of the best fruit I've ever eaten, though. Perfect and soft and delicious. I wish I knew how to make them last longer though. I know I can freeze them, but I hate to do that because I know they won't taste the same. Honestly, since Mr. Lee has been giving us peaches, I usually only eat peaches once a year because none of the odd ones I've gotten here and there from the grocery store even come close.
4) I sang Via Dolorosa in church yesterday morning. It was the first time several of our newer members have ever heard me sing it. Our new youth minister came over to me and said "Wow, I didn't know you could speak Spanish!" I hated to tell him that the one verse of that song is really the extent of the Spanish I know, and I don't even really know what I'm saying. He said "But, you had the accent and everything..." So, I'd like to thank Chani Sanford (wherever you are these days) for teaching me my Latina accent! Pamplemousse Perez: fooling people into thinking she's bilingual for 13 years! :) Gracias, Chani!
1) Two weeks ago I was back at Vacation Bible School running A/V for the assemblies. I wasn't even around the kids that much and it still exhausted me. I'm not kidding. I was at the church between 8:30 and 12 every day. I would maybe talk to a few kids before things got started, and on one memorable occasion I stayed in a hallway with some of the smallest kids while their teacher was in another room for a minute or two, and it was all I could do to make it back to the sound booth and collapse. I'm convinced that children suck the vitality out of anyone who happens to be in the same building with them, whether or not they actually interact with them. Oy. By the time I'd leave for the day, I'd have to go home and take a nap, which makes me feel so very old.
The preacher also asked me to help out a bit in the office, which I didn't mind doing, but he seems to think I know a lot more about IT stuff than I actually do. I guess since I'm married to Steve I'm supposed to know how to fix computers, and I suppose I've picked up a few things, but I certainly don't know nearly as much as some people assume I do. Luckily I knew enough to help him out, so it wasn't a complete bust. He also asked me to add things to the church website, which I was completely unfamiliar with, but the program turned out to be super easy to figure out, so that was good. All in all it was a great week, except for the chronic fatigue I suffered because of the litttle energy vampires.
2) The whole cabinet adventure has gotten underway, and the kitchen is a complete wreck. While I stayed with my brother this past weekend (Mom and Grant were on their annual pilgrimage to Atlanta) Steve and his dad spent Saturday yanking out appliances, capping off water pipes, and generally causing necessary mayhem. As of Saturday afternoon, I have no way to cook or wash dishes, and no counter space to prepare anything that doesn't require cooking, so trying to figure out the food situation has been grim. We haven't even found a place to plug in the microwave yet, so mostly we've been getting take out. Don't get me wrong, I like fast food, but I don't love how it makes me feel when I've eaten a lot of it! I'm also certain that the dietician is going to have a stroke when I have to go back and see her this week and tell her what I've been eating! At any rate, I'm excited that the process of getting the new cabinets has begun, but now that means I'll be packing dishes, cooking tools, and food into weird places all over the house until the cabinets are installed.
3) Oooooh, but speaking of food! Mr. Lee's fruit has arrived early and he's given us a cubic ton of the most gorgeous blueberries, blackberries and peaches! The blueberries are huge and sweet, and I've made muffins and pancakes with them so far. I've also used the dehydrator I got for my birthday to dry some of the blackberries and blueberries. The blueberries are weird when they're dry, but they're still darn tasty. The blackberries are also good, but very fragile. They don't taste like much and they're kind of seedy, but I like them. They are a really good and filling snack! The peaches, though...y'all....the peaches. You have no idea how amazing the peaches that Mr. Lee grows are. They smell so good! When I got the first batch from him, I just stood there and sniffed them for two days. I wanted to waller on them like a dog. I guess I finally understand why they do that! They are just some of the best fruit I've ever eaten, though. Perfect and soft and delicious. I wish I knew how to make them last longer though. I know I can freeze them, but I hate to do that because I know they won't taste the same. Honestly, since Mr. Lee has been giving us peaches, I usually only eat peaches once a year because none of the odd ones I've gotten here and there from the grocery store even come close.
4) I sang Via Dolorosa in church yesterday morning. It was the first time several of our newer members have ever heard me sing it. Our new youth minister came over to me and said "Wow, I didn't know you could speak Spanish!" I hated to tell him that the one verse of that song is really the extent of the Spanish I know, and I don't even really know what I'm saying. He said "But, you had the accent and everything..." So, I'd like to thank Chani Sanford (wherever you are these days) for teaching me my Latina accent! Pamplemousse Perez: fooling people into thinking she's bilingual for 13 years! :) Gracias, Chani!
Friday, June 01, 2012
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) I almost passed out at the gym today! That would have sucked, because I was right in the middle of working out on the elliptical machine and I can't imagine what would have happened if I got tangled up in one of those! I was actually feeling dizzy and weird all morning, mainly because of whatever sinus trouble I'm constantly plagued with, and I'd gotten light headed twice before I even left the house. Steve said I shouldn't go, but since I'd missed two days this week, I didn't want to miss more. I should've listened to him.
I got off of the machine and managed to get my bearings, and decided that I'd finish my workout on one of the stationary bikes. Once I was done with that, I felt well enough (I thought) to go back to the elliptical. I was actually fine until the last few minutes, and then my vision started to dim. I got off, made it to the car and figured that I could probably make it home OK since I live so close. I got extremely light headed on the drive home and had to blast the air in my face and bite my tongue really hard to stay awake. Once I got home, I was OK, but I had to lie down for a while. I'm still super dizzy, but at least I'm fairly sure it isn't my heart being weird or anything - knock wood - making me feel like this. I'm so tired of sinus problems! I have no idea what is causing it, but it's been really bad since the beginning of March. It's probably a dust allergy, but if that's the case, I'm going to have to move out of the house. I never dust, you see. :)
2) I finally applied for a passport yesterday! I've been wanting to do it for a long time, but since I haven't had any plans of traveling out of the country, I didn't have a reason. I still have no plans of travel (yet) but since Steve is going to have to do some international travel for work (and I can't go along...boo), I went along with him to apply for my own passport, just for funzies. The guy in charge of passports at the post office was funny! At first he was kind of serious and had he has this impressive fu manchu that makes him look sort of scary. I was feeling very intimidated while he was going over my paperwork, when he looked up at me and said "Father?" Since Papa had died, I didn't put his name on my application and left that part blank, but something had to be written there I guess, because the man handed me the papers back and told me to write "deceased" in that spot. I started writing it, and then started to giggle because I couldn't remember how to spell it! I'm sure it sounded weird, me giggling while writing that my father was deceased, and he gave me the strangest look. I finally had to ask how to spell it and then he got tickled too. He relaxed after that and everything was less intimidating. He took my photo, actually taking it a couple of times when it didn't turn out well enough. It's still not a great picture, but it'll do. He also said I look like Sally Field, and then started making jokes about that.
At any rate, the thing has been applied for and once I get it I'll be prepared to go globe trotting. Hopefully. Maybe one day, anyways.
3) We went to Logan's graduation last week and I'm so proud! :) It makes me feel really old, though. I was forcibly reminded how uncomfortable county school graduations can be around here, because they are usually held outside on the football field. It was really, really hot, crowded, and the lights attracted every bug in North Alabama. Something about the size of a bi-plane landed on me and it was all I could do not to start screaming and running around in circles. I was also reminded how boring high school graduations can be. I'm lucky that this school didn't do things like my own graduation, where they gave out every honor and scholarship during the ceremony, making it last more than two hours. All that had been taken care of at some kind of awards day thing, so mainly there was just a speech and the diplomas.
Bless her heart, the girl who gave the speech was just...bless her heart. The kids who were interested in giving the speech had to apply for the job by submitting the actual things they wanted to say. Her speech was apparently the best one. Huh. I know that sounds mean, and I'm sorry because I know she's just a kid, but the whole thing was like this:
Welcome! Thank you parents! Bible Verse. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Bible Verse. Fortune Cookie Message. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Inspirational Calender Message. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Bible Verse. Thank You.
Oy.
Now my oldest nephew is a high school graduate and I'm an old, old lady. I don't even want to think about how I'll feel when Seth graduates.
I got off of the machine and managed to get my bearings, and decided that I'd finish my workout on one of the stationary bikes. Once I was done with that, I felt well enough (I thought) to go back to the elliptical. I was actually fine until the last few minutes, and then my vision started to dim. I got off, made it to the car and figured that I could probably make it home OK since I live so close. I got extremely light headed on the drive home and had to blast the air in my face and bite my tongue really hard to stay awake. Once I got home, I was OK, but I had to lie down for a while. I'm still super dizzy, but at least I'm fairly sure it isn't my heart being weird or anything - knock wood - making me feel like this. I'm so tired of sinus problems! I have no idea what is causing it, but it's been really bad since the beginning of March. It's probably a dust allergy, but if that's the case, I'm going to have to move out of the house. I never dust, you see. :)
2) I finally applied for a passport yesterday! I've been wanting to do it for a long time, but since I haven't had any plans of traveling out of the country, I didn't have a reason. I still have no plans of travel (yet) but since Steve is going to have to do some international travel for work (and I can't go along...boo), I went along with him to apply for my own passport, just for funzies. The guy in charge of passports at the post office was funny! At first he was kind of serious and had he has this impressive fu manchu that makes him look sort of scary. I was feeling very intimidated while he was going over my paperwork, when he looked up at me and said "Father?" Since Papa had died, I didn't put his name on my application and left that part blank, but something had to be written there I guess, because the man handed me the papers back and told me to write "deceased" in that spot. I started writing it, and then started to giggle because I couldn't remember how to spell it! I'm sure it sounded weird, me giggling while writing that my father was deceased, and he gave me the strangest look. I finally had to ask how to spell it and then he got tickled too. He relaxed after that and everything was less intimidating. He took my photo, actually taking it a couple of times when it didn't turn out well enough. It's still not a great picture, but it'll do. He also said I look like Sally Field, and then started making jokes about that.
At any rate, the thing has been applied for and once I get it I'll be prepared to go globe trotting. Hopefully. Maybe one day, anyways.
3) We went to Logan's graduation last week and I'm so proud! :) It makes me feel really old, though. I was forcibly reminded how uncomfortable county school graduations can be around here, because they are usually held outside on the football field. It was really, really hot, crowded, and the lights attracted every bug in North Alabama. Something about the size of a bi-plane landed on me and it was all I could do not to start screaming and running around in circles. I was also reminded how boring high school graduations can be. I'm lucky that this school didn't do things like my own graduation, where they gave out every honor and scholarship during the ceremony, making it last more than two hours. All that had been taken care of at some kind of awards day thing, so mainly there was just a speech and the diplomas.
Bless her heart, the girl who gave the speech was just...bless her heart. The kids who were interested in giving the speech had to apply for the job by submitting the actual things they wanted to say. Her speech was apparently the best one. Huh. I know that sounds mean, and I'm sorry because I know she's just a kid, but the whole thing was like this:
Welcome! Thank you parents! Bible Verse. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Bible Verse. Fortune Cookie Message. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Inspirational Calender Message. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Cliche. Bible Verse. Thank You.
Oy.
Now my oldest nephew is a high school graduate and I'm an old, old lady. I don't even want to think about how I'll feel when Seth graduates.
Monday, May 21, 2012
WEEKEND UPDATE
Wow, I haven't done a weekend update in a long time!
Friday night I helped some of the people from Steve's band receive and sort the yard sale stuff. I'm fairly certain that I breathed in enough dust mites to start a colony in my lungs, but a lot of stuff was donated at least. As I was going through boxes, I realized that every yard sale I've ever been to has variations of the same kind of stuff I was seeing. Where do people get this crap to begin with? You know what I'm talking about, right? The weird little figurines, candle holders, mugs and random odds and ends that I can't imagine ever being able to find outside of a yard sale or garage sale, but they had to come from someplace. I don't know, it's just odd. I finally gave out at around 9:00 that night and had to leave. I was so tired that I'd almost fallen asleep behind one of the tables.
Saturday, Steve had volunteered us to be back at the church at 5:30 in the morning to help set up and work the sale. Nice, right? Bleh. We got there and moved everything outside, and then started waiting. I don't know if you've ever worked a yard sale before, but they are a study in patience. The first customers came in and bought a ton of stuff that seemed fairly random, but who knows. After that people trickled in and out. I helped out as much as I could, and several times my old customer service voice popped out. It's bad! It's about an octave higher than my regular voice and it grates on my nerves, but it's second nature to me when I'm dealing with people I don't know. Yuck. Very few of the things we brought sold, at least while I was there, so I must have really bad taste in brick-a-brack. :) I met a lot of nice people who play in the band, so that was fun. Oh, and luckily, I didn't end up buying much stuff to bring home with us. All I got was a few books, and who can resist cheap books, amiright? Oh, and also Phillip, the otter. He's very small, so he won't take up much room.
Friday night I helped some of the people from Steve's band receive and sort the yard sale stuff. I'm fairly certain that I breathed in enough dust mites to start a colony in my lungs, but a lot of stuff was donated at least. As I was going through boxes, I realized that every yard sale I've ever been to has variations of the same kind of stuff I was seeing. Where do people get this crap to begin with? You know what I'm talking about, right? The weird little figurines, candle holders, mugs and random odds and ends that I can't imagine ever being able to find outside of a yard sale or garage sale, but they had to come from someplace. I don't know, it's just odd. I finally gave out at around 9:00 that night and had to leave. I was so tired that I'd almost fallen asleep behind one of the tables.
Saturday, Steve had volunteered us to be back at the church at 5:30 in the morning to help set up and work the sale. Nice, right? Bleh. We got there and moved everything outside, and then started waiting. I don't know if you've ever worked a yard sale before, but they are a study in patience. The first customers came in and bought a ton of stuff that seemed fairly random, but who knows. After that people trickled in and out. I helped out as much as I could, and several times my old customer service voice popped out. It's bad! It's about an octave higher than my regular voice and it grates on my nerves, but it's second nature to me when I'm dealing with people I don't know. Yuck. Very few of the things we brought sold, at least while I was there, so I must have really bad taste in brick-a-brack. :) I met a lot of nice people who play in the band, so that was fun. Oh, and luckily, I didn't end up buying much stuff to bring home with us. All I got was a few books, and who can resist cheap books, amiright? Oh, and also Phillip, the otter. He's very small, so he won't take up much room.
How could I say no to that face?
It was a gorgeous day, and a perfect one for having a yard sale, but I was tired of being outside by the time the "shift change" happened and was glad to go home. We stopped and picked up lunch, and by the time I finished eating the late night and early morning had caught up with me. I was exhausted. I only meant to take a power nap, but it raged out of control. I felt much better when I woke up, and Steve and I decided to go see "Dark Shadows." I loved that show when I was a kid, which surprises me since I was such a scardey cat, and the movie had Johnny Depp in weird makeup and for whatever reason, that works for me. The movie was weird, but pretty good. It was a nice way to pass a couple of hours, at least. After that we had dinner and watched some old episodes of the "Dick Van Dyke" show, which holds up pretty well after all these years. It was a nice day.
Sunday we had church, and after we had lunch with Mr. Lee, Steve and I headed out towards the wilds of Limestone County to go to a graduation party for my nephew, Logan. I can't believe he's graduating! It seems way too soon for him to be 18! If I were my sister, I'd be a wreck. I don't think I could handle being a mom. Eesh. A lot of my aunts were there ( I swear they never seem to get old!) and it was great seeing them. I also met quite a few of Logan's buddies, and they were a lot of fun to talk to, too. Now we just have Logan's graduation this Friday and then he will officially be a grown up. Well, grown-up-ish. It makes me feel very old indeed.
That night we had church again, and I was so tired I fell asleep twice behind the sound board. Luckily I didn't miss any cues! I was so glad to get home and go to bed. It had been a really long weekend.
Friday, May 18, 2012
EVEN MORE RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) This morning I woke up convinced I was dying. My stomach was hurting so much that I couldn't move, and I was also in Crazy Town, so my brain wasn't processing the idea of pain as well as it might if I were fully awake. I even woke Steve up to let him know something was wrong, and that I might need some help if it didn't abate a little. I managed to get up and walk around a little, which helped, but not very much. I lay back down and eventually fell asleep again, and when I woke up I was feeling better, except that when I tried to stand up again I almost fell over. All is well, though. I finally managed to wake up enough to realize that I'd apparently pulled a muscle in my stomach (and arms, and legs, and side) while I was at the gym yesterday, and I had stiffened up while I was asleep. What I had woken up to was basically like having a charlie horse in my abdomen, so that was a lot of fun. I'm doing better now, except that I literally feel like I was in some kind of violent accident and bruised every part of my body. I couldn't go to the gym today because I couldn't stand the thought of having to move my legs that much. Why does trying to be healthy hurt so badly? No wonder we have an obesity epidemic in this country. Working out sucks.
I may also be able to blame my initial over-reaction to my stomach pain on the fact that we watched Alien and Aliens last night. Honestly, you see a couple of wormy aliens explode from someone's digestive tract and it can mess you up for life.
2) Speaking of going to the gym, I'm actually still at it. I didn't think I'd make it this long! Things aren't going as well as I would like, weight loss wise, but I know it's mostly my fault. I just like to eat, and there are days when that is all I want to do. I manage it pretty well, normally, but sometimes it nearly drives me crazy. I'm very sure that if I weren't seeing the dietician, this wouldn't be working for me at all, because the fact that I am accountable to someone keeps me from destroying the snack cabinet. Also, this woman is so tiny and cute, and she seems so genuinely thrilled if I make any progress, that if I go in and show her my food journal and she sees something disappointing, it's like punching a kitten in the head. She just looks so dang disappointed in me and it makes me feel terrible. I have to go and see her next week, and the fact I haven't lost any weight plus the fact that I haven't been as careful with my meals as I had been before (usually out of convenience, really), is going to make her give me that sad kitten look. I already dread it.
I have lost a couple of pounds, though, but not really enough for anyone to notice. It's a slow and frustrating process!
3) Steve's band will be having a big, multi-family yard sale this weekend (weather permitting) so if you like to buy other people's old stuff, you should totally go! We are putting in a bunch of clothes and kitchen stuff, for which I am grateful, because I think everything we own has been having babies. I promise you, I went through my clothes not long ago and gave away a bunch of stuff I couldn't wear anymore, but when I went through it all again, I ended up finding three more huge garbage bags of stuff to give away and I still have a pile of clothes left! I don't understand how that is happening. I've also found things I didn't even remember we had! It's insane the amount of things that can collect in a house. So, anyway, the sale will be at United Methodist Church on Old Monrovia Rd. (or at least whatever road runs behind Providence). Tell your friends. Buy our stuff.
4) I was working on a decoration for Sara's wedding the other day, and the process included a lot of silver glitter. I'd glued the glitter down, but had yet to spray it with acrylic sealant, so when I picked it up, some of the loose glitter got on my and went down my shirt. I was oblivious of any of this until I got to church that night and looked down to see my chest covered in sparkles. It was like I was trying to smuggle a couple of disco balls around in my shirt!
5) I just finished reading Twilight this morning and I still hate it. If anything, I hate it more now than I initially did. Don't get me wrong, though...I think I finally understand why it became such a popular series, and why so many women love it, but I still hate it and I still want to punch Bella in the face until she dies.
It actually made me angry to read it. I don't consider myself to be a feminist, at least not one of the militant and outspoken type, but to me that story is one of the most anti-feminist and misogynistic things I have EVER read, and the fact that so many women, young women mostly, love this book just blows my mind. In fact, the knowledge that this book was actually written by a woman blows my mind even more! The main character is supposedly a smart young lady, but at 16 she's willing to give up her life (quite literally) and everything else for a good looking guy who pushes he around, tells her what to do, puts her in terrible danger, is always on the verge of killing her, and who basically treats her like a child? Not to mention he's kind of an icky pedophile. I don't care if he's an immortal, that's still disturbing.
No, no more...I can't talk about it anymore right now. I might actually punch something, and I still have 3 more of these terrible books to go. Could I stop reading them right now? Of course, but I'm determined to finish this.
I may also be able to blame my initial over-reaction to my stomach pain on the fact that we watched Alien and Aliens last night. Honestly, you see a couple of wormy aliens explode from someone's digestive tract and it can mess you up for life.
2) Speaking of going to the gym, I'm actually still at it. I didn't think I'd make it this long! Things aren't going as well as I would like, weight loss wise, but I know it's mostly my fault. I just like to eat, and there are days when that is all I want to do. I manage it pretty well, normally, but sometimes it nearly drives me crazy. I'm very sure that if I weren't seeing the dietician, this wouldn't be working for me at all, because the fact that I am accountable to someone keeps me from destroying the snack cabinet. Also, this woman is so tiny and cute, and she seems so genuinely thrilled if I make any progress, that if I go in and show her my food journal and she sees something disappointing, it's like punching a kitten in the head. She just looks so dang disappointed in me and it makes me feel terrible. I have to go and see her next week, and the fact I haven't lost any weight plus the fact that I haven't been as careful with my meals as I had been before (usually out of convenience, really), is going to make her give me that sad kitten look. I already dread it.
I have lost a couple of pounds, though, but not really enough for anyone to notice. It's a slow and frustrating process!
3) Steve's band will be having a big, multi-family yard sale this weekend (weather permitting) so if you like to buy other people's old stuff, you should totally go! We are putting in a bunch of clothes and kitchen stuff, for which I am grateful, because I think everything we own has been having babies. I promise you, I went through my clothes not long ago and gave away a bunch of stuff I couldn't wear anymore, but when I went through it all again, I ended up finding three more huge garbage bags of stuff to give away and I still have a pile of clothes left! I don't understand how that is happening. I've also found things I didn't even remember we had! It's insane the amount of things that can collect in a house. So, anyway, the sale will be at United Methodist Church on Old Monrovia Rd. (or at least whatever road runs behind Providence). Tell your friends. Buy our stuff.
4) I was working on a decoration for Sara's wedding the other day, and the process included a lot of silver glitter. I'd glued the glitter down, but had yet to spray it with acrylic sealant, so when I picked it up, some of the loose glitter got on my and went down my shirt. I was oblivious of any of this until I got to church that night and looked down to see my chest covered in sparkles. It was like I was trying to smuggle a couple of disco balls around in my shirt!
5) I just finished reading Twilight this morning and I still hate it. If anything, I hate it more now than I initially did. Don't get me wrong, though...I think I finally understand why it became such a popular series, and why so many women love it, but I still hate it and I still want to punch Bella in the face until she dies.
It actually made me angry to read it. I don't consider myself to be a feminist, at least not one of the militant and outspoken type, but to me that story is one of the most anti-feminist and misogynistic things I have EVER read, and the fact that so many women, young women mostly, love this book just blows my mind. In fact, the knowledge that this book was actually written by a woman blows my mind even more! The main character is supposedly a smart young lady, but at 16 she's willing to give up her life (quite literally) and everything else for a good looking guy who pushes he around, tells her what to do, puts her in terrible danger, is always on the verge of killing her, and who basically treats her like a child? Not to mention he's kind of an icky pedophile. I don't care if he's an immortal, that's still disturbing.
No, no more...I can't talk about it anymore right now. I might actually punch something, and I still have 3 more of these terrible books to go. Could I stop reading them right now? Of course, but I'm determined to finish this.
Monday, April 30, 2012
MORE RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) OK, so...I didn't end up doing the audition. Believe it or not, it wasn't because I was scared or anything like that. The more I thought about it, the less interested in it I was. However, I had actually decided I was going to do it anyway, because A) I felt like I'd be letting down a lot of people who had given me advice and who seemed very excited for me and B) I really need to do something. I feel like a giant loser for not working and not having any kind of concrete plan for my life and I thought that, if nothing else, this would push me in some sort of direction. I have friends that I admire because they seem to know exactly what they want and exactly how to do it. Me, I feel like someone dropped me off in an unfamiliar town without a map and told me I have exactly one hour to find a restaurant I've never heard of. It's frustrating and scary. But I digress.
So I had decided to go ahead and do this audition anyway, but I realized I was missing one important thing that I needed: a head shot. I don't have many pictures of me at all, and the only professional one I've had made in the last 5 years is little more than a glorified school photo and it doesn't really look like me. Since it was the only one I had, I spent a while photoshopping the heck out of it and getting it ready to print, only to realize at the last possible minute that I only had one sheet of photo paper to print on, which meant no re-dos. Halfway through the printing, I realized that not only did the printer screw up and make me look orange (seriously, I looked like Snookie's older sister), I also saw that I had somehow managed to load the paper in backwards, which caused the coated side of the paper to buckle, so I couldn't even flip it over and print on the back. *HEAD DESK*
By this time I was just sick of the idea of the whole thing. I had no head shot, no real experience, and no idea what I was doing. I refuse to go into a situation like that half assed, so I just scrapped the plan all together. It wasn't really important in the scheme of things, anyway, because I wasn't expecting it to make me a movie star, or heck, even an actor. I just thought it would be something different to do. I'm not even sorry about not doing it. The only thing that really bothers me is that so many people got so exited for me about it, way more than I thought would actually care, and I hate to think they'd be disappointed in me for not going ahead with it. Oh well, I'll just have to make them proud some other way, I guess!
2) Heh, one of my friends sent me the link for my old position at the SpRocket (ptooey). The job is open again because they hired someone the last time they advertised it and the person worked there for about a week before they quit. I read through it and, though I can't be 100% sure, it looks like they've added a few extra requirements regarding behavior. It might as well say "Please don't act like Kelly, or you can't work here." Heehee! Eh, I'm so freaking charming.
3) You know, I hate it when I find out that someone I like turns out to be kind of an awful person. Luckily I didn't have to learn this first hand, but I was talking to someone last night and, kind of off hand, they mentioned something that a person we both know once said that shocked me. It was just a really mean and hurtful thing to say, and I wouldn't have thought him possible of behaving that way. Of course, you can't judge someone by one thing they say, but the person I was talking too went on to tell me a whole bunch of other things that this guy both did and said, and it blew my mind. I mean, he didn't kill anyone or anything like that, but I was still shocked that he was capable of acting like such a tool. He just seemed so nice, but apparently it was all an act he'd put on unless he was around his friends, and unfortunately for him, his friends got tired of his behavior and stopped protecting him. I generally considered myself a good judge of character, but I guess as long as someone is nice to my face I'm just going to assume they're a good person, whether they really are or not. Boo. I liked this guy, but now I'm not going to be able to think of him in the same way and that makes me sad.
4) Steve's band played Panoply this weekend! I haven't been to Panoply since well before I was married, and that time I went with Josh and we did faux interpretive dance next to one of the performance tents.
The MCB wasn't scheduled to play until around 4:00 PM, so it was nice and hot by the time we got there. Yuck. It was about 87 degrees, and the band was set to play on what had to be the hottest and sunniest section of the whole deal, which was the back pavilion of the Museum of Art. We ended up getting there early, so while Steve helped set up, I walked around a bit. I actually ran into a friend of mine that I hadn't seen in about a million years (Hey, Jason!) which was nice, and I got to talk to him for a few minutes. Then I walked on through a zillion other tents and eventually made it to the artist's marketplace. That is where the local and regional artist set up tents and sell their stuff. I would have loved to buy some art, but I couldn't afford any! :) No wonder the artists are starving.
Once I made it back around to the pavilion, I caught up with Mr. Lee and one of our church members who happened to be there, and we listened to the band play. It was lots of fun, and the band sounded great! I got sunburned because I forgot to put on sun screen, and I'm pretty sure I had an slight case of dehydration by the time we left because it was just so dang hot! I dread what summer is going to be like. Bleh. Anyway, we had a great time and a lot of fun.
So I had decided to go ahead and do this audition anyway, but I realized I was missing one important thing that I needed: a head shot. I don't have many pictures of me at all, and the only professional one I've had made in the last 5 years is little more than a glorified school photo and it doesn't really look like me. Since it was the only one I had, I spent a while photoshopping the heck out of it and getting it ready to print, only to realize at the last possible minute that I only had one sheet of photo paper to print on, which meant no re-dos. Halfway through the printing, I realized that not only did the printer screw up and make me look orange (seriously, I looked like Snookie's older sister), I also saw that I had somehow managed to load the paper in backwards, which caused the coated side of the paper to buckle, so I couldn't even flip it over and print on the back. *HEAD DESK*
By this time I was just sick of the idea of the whole thing. I had no head shot, no real experience, and no idea what I was doing. I refuse to go into a situation like that half assed, so I just scrapped the plan all together. It wasn't really important in the scheme of things, anyway, because I wasn't expecting it to make me a movie star, or heck, even an actor. I just thought it would be something different to do. I'm not even sorry about not doing it. The only thing that really bothers me is that so many people got so exited for me about it, way more than I thought would actually care, and I hate to think they'd be disappointed in me for not going ahead with it. Oh well, I'll just have to make them proud some other way, I guess!
2) Heh, one of my friends sent me the link for my old position at the SpRocket (ptooey). The job is open again because they hired someone the last time they advertised it and the person worked there for about a week before they quit. I read through it and, though I can't be 100% sure, it looks like they've added a few extra requirements regarding behavior. It might as well say "Please don't act like Kelly, or you can't work here." Heehee! Eh, I'm so freaking charming.
3) You know, I hate it when I find out that someone I like turns out to be kind of an awful person. Luckily I didn't have to learn this first hand, but I was talking to someone last night and, kind of off hand, they mentioned something that a person we both know once said that shocked me. It was just a really mean and hurtful thing to say, and I wouldn't have thought him possible of behaving that way. Of course, you can't judge someone by one thing they say, but the person I was talking too went on to tell me a whole bunch of other things that this guy both did and said, and it blew my mind. I mean, he didn't kill anyone or anything like that, but I was still shocked that he was capable of acting like such a tool. He just seemed so nice, but apparently it was all an act he'd put on unless he was around his friends, and unfortunately for him, his friends got tired of his behavior and stopped protecting him. I generally considered myself a good judge of character, but I guess as long as someone is nice to my face I'm just going to assume they're a good person, whether they really are or not. Boo. I liked this guy, but now I'm not going to be able to think of him in the same way and that makes me sad.
4) Steve's band played Panoply this weekend! I haven't been to Panoply since well before I was married, and that time I went with Josh and we did faux interpretive dance next to one of the performance tents.
The MCB wasn't scheduled to play until around 4:00 PM, so it was nice and hot by the time we got there. Yuck. It was about 87 degrees, and the band was set to play on what had to be the hottest and sunniest section of the whole deal, which was the back pavilion of the Museum of Art. We ended up getting there early, so while Steve helped set up, I walked around a bit. I actually ran into a friend of mine that I hadn't seen in about a million years (Hey, Jason!) which was nice, and I got to talk to him for a few minutes. Then I walked on through a zillion other tents and eventually made it to the artist's marketplace. That is where the local and regional artist set up tents and sell their stuff. I would have loved to buy some art, but I couldn't afford any! :) No wonder the artists are starving.
Once I made it back around to the pavilion, I caught up with Mr. Lee and one of our church members who happened to be there, and we listened to the band play. It was lots of fun, and the band sounded great! I got sunburned because I forgot to put on sun screen, and I'm pretty sure I had an slight case of dehydration by the time we left because it was just so dang hot! I dread what summer is going to be like. Bleh. Anyway, we had a great time and a lot of fun.
Monday, April 23, 2012
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) Steve and I stopped by our local comic book shop on Saturday, and with one brief exception (that I'm pretty sure was an accident) I went completely unacknowledged by the people behind the counter! Rudeness! They small talked to Steve, but when I'd make a comment about something they said, they seemed to pretend I wasn't even there.
I hate going in there, because it never fails that I can't get anyone to speak to me unless it's the owner - and I think that's only because Steve kind of knows him through some friends we worked with at the SpRocket (ptooey). Even then I have to pretty much get up in his face and ask a pointed question. Please don't get me wrong, I don't go in there for attention or be flirty or anything like that. If we go there, it's just to pick up the comics we subscribe to, and Steve tends to look around for a while, so I'm just hanging around trying not to stare at the people playing RPGs, or whatever it is they're doing with the cards and the little figurines, and I've tried in the past just to strike up a conversation with someone to pass the time and they just ignore me! Every. Dang. Time. I'd love to think it is because I'm so bodacious that they are just too intimidated, but yeah...no. I'm fairly certain I'm par for the course as far as women who go in there, except that I don't tend to wear anime shirts and kitty-ear headbands. Maybe I should! :) Either that, or I'm going to have to resort to a full on Wonder Woman costume.
I actually joked about this on Twitter when we got home, and I said "If I'm that ugly, please someone tell me so I can go into hiding." I wish I'd reworded it, because I know it came across as "pity-fishing" for compliments, but I promise I wasn't. I did get a reply that it wasn't that I was ugly, just that comic book guys don't know what to do with girls, so I'm going to go with that.
2) An Atlanta production company is going to be shooting a movie here in Huntsville! Neato, huh? I saw a news story about it this morning and thought that it might be fun to see about being an extra for it if I could. It's a bucket list thing, you know. The last time a movie was filmed around here, they had a cattle call, of sorts, for extras. I didn't do it then because I had a real job and couldn't take the time off. The information they had for that movie said you had to bring a picture and fill out an application, and that was pretty much it. The website the news site sent me to for this new movie doesn't mention anything about extras being separate from the cast. It says you have to come in and audition. Wha? The casting list mentions extras, but you still have to audition for the parts. I've only auditioned for one thing ever, and that was a hundred years ago! I tried crowd sourcing on Facebook (because I have friends who act) to see what I'd need to do for an audition, and it seems I'd need a headshot, a resume, and I'd have to read lines. Yikes. I'm not looking to become a movie star, because hell, I've never acted outside of a church play or two, I just want to say I've been in a movie.
I'd love to do this, don't get me wrong, but I'm afraid I'm too much of a chicken to audition. I want to, really badly, even if I just got to play "lady at the counter #4" because I'd be able to say I had. The auditions are this weekend, so I've got the rest of the week to waffle. I wish I wasn't such a chicken-dog.
3) I've finally, finally, finally made myself buckle down and start reading "Twilight." I know I've talked about it for a long time, and I might have even tried to start it a couple of times, but I've never gotten anywhere until this last try. I am making myself read it because I don't think it's fair to dislike something blindly, and I needed to see if, in fact, I didn't like it. I think I'm probably on chapter four or five right now, and I can say honestly that I don't care for it so far.
First off, the writing itself if kind of bad. Maybe I'm wrong, but is it supposed to be written in a stream of consciousness style? I mean, it isn't really that I suppose, but the writing doesn't seem right to me. It's all out of whack because it seems that a lot of it is expressed in incomplete sentences and fragments. I think at one point I could actually hear William Shatner reading it in his. Signature. Style. However, I'm sure not every writer who becomes popular is a whiz at grammar and structuring, so I'm going to let that part slide for now.
The story isn't even that terrible. Please take that observation with a whole handful of rock salt, since I'm still at the beginning of the book, but the premise isn't totally uninteresting. Far fetched, and a bit immature, yes, but then a lot of things I like are.
I think the thing I absolutely don't like about the book is the characters. In fact, I kind of hate them all so far.
All the secondary characters I've been introduced to are so thinly sketched out that they could be invisible. The absentee mom, the clueless dad, the "friends" she makes that either fawn over Bella or hate her. It's sad.
Edward is an ass. He actually reminds me a lot of two boys I dated when I was a teenager. Seriously, he could be a hybrid of them: One was good looking, sweet, but had a creepy, over-protective, romantic thing going on where he'd try to fight other guys who he thought liked me (they didn't), he'd write me kind of unsettling poetry, and he promised to "love me forever." He also had some rage issues that scared a lot of people, but I don't think he would have ever turned them on me. He was way too protective of me, but then again, who knows? I'd like to think he got most of that out of his system and is now a happily married and stable adult, but he was way, way too intense for me at 15 years old. The other guy was smug, very much a jerk, emotionally and borderline physically abusive - and he used to bite me. I don't mean that in a kinky way either, he'd bite me and leave rings of bruises and teeth marks. I think he thought he was being affectionate, but it hurt. To this day I don't understand why I liked him, but I assume it was because he was an amazing kisser. I'm not proud of that, but knowing what a festering scrotal boil he turned out to be kept me from dating anyone else like him, so...silver lining! I see all of those kinds of weirdness in Edward, which is why I have the creepy crawlies when I think about the guy in this book who is supposed to be the epitome of the perfect man. No one who behaves like that should ever be considered a romantic example for teenage girls. It is wrong and unhealthy and gross. What makes it even worse is that grown ass women are all swoony over this sparkling douche, and they should know better!
Oh, and Bella. BELLA. I want to climb into the book and punch her in the face until she dies. She infuriates me. She moves to a new town, which would suck for any teenage girl, but she doesn't even try. She's obvs too smart for the new school, so she already knows everything they try and teach her and she's soooooo bored with it. (Mope) All the kids are actually interested in her and want to be her friend, which must totally suck because...I dunno why. Maybe because even Bella knows she's just the worst and can't understand the interest. (Mope) The boys all think she's pretty and want to get to know her better, but instead of being flattered (at the very least) she insults them in her head while being barely nice to them outwardly because why should she be glad that people are being nice to her? I mean, they're just small town boys, after all. (Mope) Then of course, the only person she seems to be interested in is the one freaking person who either behaves as if she's a walking cloud of scabies, insults her, or -truthfully- behaves like a creepy, stalking weirdo. (Mope) And, OK, maybe every teenage girl has to date guys like that to realize who they DON'T want to be with, but not our Bella. She loves it. She's the kind of girl who is a couple of insults and a dog collar away from being chained in someone's basement of her own free will. She makes me mad. The fact that she is a fictional character that I can't physically slap across the face only makes it worse.
However, I'm still just at the beginning of the book. Maybe by the time we meet Jacob, I'll love it. We'll see.
I hate going in there, because it never fails that I can't get anyone to speak to me unless it's the owner - and I think that's only because Steve kind of knows him through some friends we worked with at the SpRocket (ptooey). Even then I have to pretty much get up in his face and ask a pointed question. Please don't get me wrong, I don't go in there for attention or be flirty or anything like that. If we go there, it's just to pick up the comics we subscribe to, and Steve tends to look around for a while, so I'm just hanging around trying not to stare at the people playing RPGs, or whatever it is they're doing with the cards and the little figurines, and I've tried in the past just to strike up a conversation with someone to pass the time and they just ignore me! Every. Dang. Time. I'd love to think it is because I'm so bodacious that they are just too intimidated, but yeah...no. I'm fairly certain I'm par for the course as far as women who go in there, except that I don't tend to wear anime shirts and kitty-ear headbands. Maybe I should! :) Either that, or I'm going to have to resort to a full on Wonder Woman costume.
I actually joked about this on Twitter when we got home, and I said "If I'm that ugly, please someone tell me so I can go into hiding." I wish I'd reworded it, because I know it came across as "pity-fishing" for compliments, but I promise I wasn't. I did get a reply that it wasn't that I was ugly, just that comic book guys don't know what to do with girls, so I'm going to go with that.
2) An Atlanta production company is going to be shooting a movie here in Huntsville! Neato, huh? I saw a news story about it this morning and thought that it might be fun to see about being an extra for it if I could. It's a bucket list thing, you know. The last time a movie was filmed around here, they had a cattle call, of sorts, for extras. I didn't do it then because I had a real job and couldn't take the time off. The information they had for that movie said you had to bring a picture and fill out an application, and that was pretty much it. The website the news site sent me to for this new movie doesn't mention anything about extras being separate from the cast. It says you have to come in and audition. Wha? The casting list mentions extras, but you still have to audition for the parts. I've only auditioned for one thing ever, and that was a hundred years ago! I tried crowd sourcing on Facebook (because I have friends who act) to see what I'd need to do for an audition, and it seems I'd need a headshot, a resume, and I'd have to read lines. Yikes. I'm not looking to become a movie star, because hell, I've never acted outside of a church play or two, I just want to say I've been in a movie.
I'd love to do this, don't get me wrong, but I'm afraid I'm too much of a chicken to audition. I want to, really badly, even if I just got to play "lady at the counter #4" because I'd be able to say I had. The auditions are this weekend, so I've got the rest of the week to waffle. I wish I wasn't such a chicken-dog.
3) I've finally, finally, finally made myself buckle down and start reading "Twilight." I know I've talked about it for a long time, and I might have even tried to start it a couple of times, but I've never gotten anywhere until this last try. I am making myself read it because I don't think it's fair to dislike something blindly, and I needed to see if, in fact, I didn't like it. I think I'm probably on chapter four or five right now, and I can say honestly that I don't care for it so far.
First off, the writing itself if kind of bad. Maybe I'm wrong, but is it supposed to be written in a stream of consciousness style? I mean, it isn't really that I suppose, but the writing doesn't seem right to me. It's all out of whack because it seems that a lot of it is expressed in incomplete sentences and fragments. I think at one point I could actually hear William Shatner reading it in his. Signature. Style. However, I'm sure not every writer who becomes popular is a whiz at grammar and structuring, so I'm going to let that part slide for now.
The story isn't even that terrible. Please take that observation with a whole handful of rock salt, since I'm still at the beginning of the book, but the premise isn't totally uninteresting. Far fetched, and a bit immature, yes, but then a lot of things I like are.
I think the thing I absolutely don't like about the book is the characters. In fact, I kind of hate them all so far.
All the secondary characters I've been introduced to are so thinly sketched out that they could be invisible. The absentee mom, the clueless dad, the "friends" she makes that either fawn over Bella or hate her. It's sad.
Edward is an ass. He actually reminds me a lot of two boys I dated when I was a teenager. Seriously, he could be a hybrid of them: One was good looking, sweet, but had a creepy, over-protective, romantic thing going on where he'd try to fight other guys who he thought liked me (they didn't), he'd write me kind of unsettling poetry, and he promised to "love me forever." He also had some rage issues that scared a lot of people, but I don't think he would have ever turned them on me. He was way too protective of me, but then again, who knows? I'd like to think he got most of that out of his system and is now a happily married and stable adult, but he was way, way too intense for me at 15 years old. The other guy was smug, very much a jerk, emotionally and borderline physically abusive - and he used to bite me. I don't mean that in a kinky way either, he'd bite me and leave rings of bruises and teeth marks. I think he thought he was being affectionate, but it hurt. To this day I don't understand why I liked him, but I assume it was because he was an amazing kisser. I'm not proud of that, but knowing what a festering scrotal boil he turned out to be kept me from dating anyone else like him, so...silver lining! I see all of those kinds of weirdness in Edward, which is why I have the creepy crawlies when I think about the guy in this book who is supposed to be the epitome of the perfect man. No one who behaves like that should ever be considered a romantic example for teenage girls. It is wrong and unhealthy and gross. What makes it even worse is that grown ass women are all swoony over this sparkling douche, and they should know better!
Oh, and Bella. BELLA. I want to climb into the book and punch her in the face until she dies. She infuriates me. She moves to a new town, which would suck for any teenage girl, but she doesn't even try. She's obvs too smart for the new school, so she already knows everything they try and teach her and she's soooooo bored with it. (Mope) All the kids are actually interested in her and want to be her friend, which must totally suck because...I dunno why. Maybe because even Bella knows she's just the worst and can't understand the interest. (Mope) The boys all think she's pretty and want to get to know her better, but instead of being flattered (at the very least) she insults them in her head while being barely nice to them outwardly because why should she be glad that people are being nice to her? I mean, they're just small town boys, after all. (Mope) Then of course, the only person she seems to be interested in is the one freaking person who either behaves as if she's a walking cloud of scabies, insults her, or -truthfully- behaves like a creepy, stalking weirdo. (Mope) And, OK, maybe every teenage girl has to date guys like that to realize who they DON'T want to be with, but not our Bella. She loves it. She's the kind of girl who is a couple of insults and a dog collar away from being chained in someone's basement of her own free will. She makes me mad. The fact that she is a fictional character that I can't physically slap across the face only makes it worse.
However, I'm still just at the beginning of the book. Maybe by the time we meet Jacob, I'll love it. We'll see.
Monday, April 16, 2012
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) My ankle is much better, thanks for asking! :) It's weird how quickly it got better after initially thinking I'd probably really damaged it. I've sprained my ankle a bunch of times, but it had never hurt like that before. After taking Jeoff's advice about how to take care of it, and thinking it was just fine, I ended up rolling it again (because of course I did). It swelled back up, so Steve talked me into going to the Doc-In-The-Box and getting it checked out just in case. After being in the dreaded clinic for two hours, having 6 X-Rays - three initial and three re-dos, and having the doctor pull and twist my leg into a balloon animal, I was told I was just fine and that I could go back to the gym the next day. In fact, he gave me the exact same advice that Jeoff gave me to begin with. He did give me a prescription for some anti-inflammatory pills, and I got a brace with rigid sides to wear the rest of the week, but now my ankle seems back to normal. Well, sort of. It feels like the bones in my ankle don't meet up anymore. I don't think there's anything wrong, because with all the X-Rays, I'm sure they'd have told me if anything was amiss. So now I just need to watch where I step! :)
2) Oh, and speaking of all of that... I mentioned that I slipped on a puddle at Home Depot in my last post. I'd assumed at the time that it was water that had leaked from a car that had been parked there, but we had to go back there yesterday and get some stuff, and there was a puddle in the same place! I guess something must be leaking. They are so going to get sued.
3) Steve and I are getting our kitchen remodeled! I'm so excited! Well, I don't know if you would call it getting remodeled, since basically we're just getting some new cabinets and an island, but I'm still excited. The old cabinets were put in when the house was built in 1949. None of them are to code, there isn't enough room for our dishes in them, and trying to find hinges or any kind of replacement parts for them has been a nightmare. Also, we've gone through two counter tops, and while I love the blue tile ones that Steve built for me, it's so hard to keep them clean. We're getting a local carpenter to build them for us. We've seen some of his work, and it is beautiful, but the guy looks like he's about 12 years old. This will be the first major change we've had done on the house since I've lived here, so I'm eager to see how it will look. The down side to this is that we're going to have to repaint the kitchen walls and ceiling, and I hate painting walls. Luckily, we're keeping the dark red color, so at least we won't have to spend days and days trying to cover a dark color with a light one. Woot!
4) I feel so awful! Last week I volunteered to do a bit of graphics work for a friend of mine. He needed someone to make a logo for a Facebook page that his group of storm chasers are putting together. Honestly, I wasn't 100% sure what it was he needed, because when he sent me the email about the logo, he said he was drawing a blank and that whatever I could come up with would be fine. So I worked for a day or two and came up with a few for him to chose from, he picked one out, and we did some tweaking until it was just what he wanted.
I got another email today saying that he had finally gotten together with the whole group and showed them the logo I created, and they'd vetoed it. Apparently they thought it would be a bit distasteful to use a logo with a tornado graphic when the Facebook page they were creating was a memorial for some of their friends who'd been killed in the tornadoes that had hit last year! Oops. I thought I was creating a logo for the storm chasers themselves that would include mention of their friends, not one specifically for the memorial page. Eeeesh. I'm so tacky. My only saving grace is that my friend, the one who originally picked out the logo, didn't think about that either. However, all was not lost. They'd decided what kind of logo they did want and sent me a rough draft and some files, and I managed to get them what they needed. Still...eeeeeesh.
5) Butler and Bear tried to kill each other again this weekend. I have no idea what is wrong with them, because it isn't as if they hate each other! Seriously, if one of them is away from the other, they have a fit until they are reunited! But if they are together, they act like a couple of grumpy old men! It's insane. The worst part about this fight is that Butler lost yet another tooth! At least this time it was one of the smaller ones, but jeez. He either must have the worst teeth in the history of all dogs, or he really bites hard when he and Bear are fighting. Dumb dogs.
2) Oh, and speaking of all of that... I mentioned that I slipped on a puddle at Home Depot in my last post. I'd assumed at the time that it was water that had leaked from a car that had been parked there, but we had to go back there yesterday and get some stuff, and there was a puddle in the same place! I guess something must be leaking. They are so going to get sued.
3) Steve and I are getting our kitchen remodeled! I'm so excited! Well, I don't know if you would call it getting remodeled, since basically we're just getting some new cabinets and an island, but I'm still excited. The old cabinets were put in when the house was built in 1949. None of them are to code, there isn't enough room for our dishes in them, and trying to find hinges or any kind of replacement parts for them has been a nightmare. Also, we've gone through two counter tops, and while I love the blue tile ones that Steve built for me, it's so hard to keep them clean. We're getting a local carpenter to build them for us. We've seen some of his work, and it is beautiful, but the guy looks like he's about 12 years old. This will be the first major change we've had done on the house since I've lived here, so I'm eager to see how it will look. The down side to this is that we're going to have to repaint the kitchen walls and ceiling, and I hate painting walls. Luckily, we're keeping the dark red color, so at least we won't have to spend days and days trying to cover a dark color with a light one. Woot!
4) I feel so awful! Last week I volunteered to do a bit of graphics work for a friend of mine. He needed someone to make a logo for a Facebook page that his group of storm chasers are putting together. Honestly, I wasn't 100% sure what it was he needed, because when he sent me the email about the logo, he said he was drawing a blank and that whatever I could come up with would be fine. So I worked for a day or two and came up with a few for him to chose from, he picked one out, and we did some tweaking until it was just what he wanted.
I got another email today saying that he had finally gotten together with the whole group and showed them the logo I created, and they'd vetoed it. Apparently they thought it would be a bit distasteful to use a logo with a tornado graphic when the Facebook page they were creating was a memorial for some of their friends who'd been killed in the tornadoes that had hit last year! Oops. I thought I was creating a logo for the storm chasers themselves that would include mention of their friends, not one specifically for the memorial page. Eeeesh. I'm so tacky. My only saving grace is that my friend, the one who originally picked out the logo, didn't think about that either. However, all was not lost. They'd decided what kind of logo they did want and sent me a rough draft and some files, and I managed to get them what they needed. Still...eeeeeesh.
5) Butler and Bear tried to kill each other again this weekend. I have no idea what is wrong with them, because it isn't as if they hate each other! Seriously, if one of them is away from the other, they have a fit until they are reunited! But if they are together, they act like a couple of grumpy old men! It's insane. The worst part about this fight is that Butler lost yet another tooth! At least this time it was one of the smaller ones, but jeez. He either must have the worst teeth in the history of all dogs, or he really bites hard when he and Bear are fighting. Dumb dogs.
Monday, April 09, 2012
OK, SO THAT HAPPENED
I'm going to make a wild assumption that most of you already know that I sprained my ankle pretty badly this weekend, but since it's the only thing of real note that happened, I'm going to tell you more!
WOO!
Saturday morning, Steve and I were out running errands and made an unplanned stop at Home Depot. We were walking into the building when I either stepped in a puddle of water, or possibly oil (I couldn't tell what it was, I just know it was slippery) when my left foot slipped and went down. Hard. I'm really glad Steve was holding one of my hands, because I think if he hadn't pulled me up just a bit, I might have broken my wrist or something. It wasn't even one of those funny, slipping around trying to catch my balance kind of falls either, it was just that moment of knowing I'd slipped and then hitting the ground. Everything turned except for my left foot, which is weird since that one was the one that stepped in the puddle to begin with. My right flip-flop flew off and I was just suddenly lying there on the concrete under the awning of the store.
Once I hit the ground, my mind went "Oh, how embarrass...holy crap my leg is on fire!" It must've looked bad, because Steve didn't even laugh! :) I vaguely remember a man walking past us to go inside (thanks for your concern, there, good Samaritan) but mostly I was doing that internal thing where you try to decide if you're going to cry or scream profanity. Luckily, I did neither. I honestly thought someone from inside would come out and at least help pick me up off of the ground, since we were literally just a few feet from the entrance, but no one did. So Steve picked me up and helped me back to the car so I could assess the damage while he went inside the store.
I actually didn't think I was hurt at all, once I sat down. I mean, my hand was bleeding from where it had landed on a piece of gravel, but I cleaned that up. My ankle seemed fine, which I thought was strange owing to how much it hurt when I actually fell. I was relieved that it wasn't worse. I just sat in the car flexing it and making sure nothing else was hurt.
Steve was actually in the store for a long time, so I thought he must have been telling someone that I slipped in a puddle. We aren't litigious people, but I figured he'd at least mention that there was a dangerous slippery puddle by the door. Turned out that, no, he'd just gone inside and looked around for whatever he'd gone in for. (Don't worry, I've already had my moment of berating him for this. But I can't really blame him completely because I said I was OK.) He said no one was around the door when he went in, so probably no one saw me. I seriously doubt that, but since he didn't say anything to them, I'm sure they weren't going to bring it up.
Anyway, so he came out with his stuff and we went on our way to finish our errands. My ankle did start to hurt, so I guess the initial painlessness was due to adrenaline or something. Stupid me walked on that ankle a lot that day, limping from place to place, until we got home and I could really take a good look at it. It was swollen very badly, but not bruised at all. We wrapped it up, put some ice on it, and I kept it propped up for a while.
By that night, I could barely walk it hurt so bad. I've sprained this same ankle a lot of times, and it's never hurt like that before. I had to pull myself around from place to place, and I even tried using a crutch I found (weirdly, only one crutch) but I wasn't coordinated enough to make that work. I finally went to bed, tried to keep it propped up on pillows, and not move it unless I had to.
Sunday was Easter, of course, and I had to run sound and lights for the service, and even though it was a lot better from the day before, I still had to hobble around like an old lady to get ready for church. I couldn't wear my heels, of course, and I don't own any flat dress shoes, so I ended up wrapping my ankle over my hose and having to wear a pair of those Dr. Scholls Fast Flats that were too big for me, so I could stuff my bandaged foot inside of them. Sexy. I managed to get inside the church with Steve's help, and Mr. Lee brought me the cane he'd used after he'd had knee surgery so I could get up and down stairs. I was a sight. I also felt like an idiot for using a cane just because I'd sprained my ankle. We have a child at church who was born with spina biffida and not even she uses a cane. It made me feel bad and obvious and attention seeking. Also, I'm not really coordinated enough to use a cane either, so I had to walk on the one corner of my heel that didn't cause pain to shoot up my leg, while trying to figure out how to get the cane to work in synch with my other leg. I was very awkward. I probably could have done without the cane except for the stairs and needing it to brace myself while sitting down and getting into the car, but I was glad to have it to help me out.
By that afternoon, I was hobbling about quite respectfully without the cane and my ankle was hurting much less, so I managed to get around Mom's house with little problem. We went there for lunch and had a great time, although I wish we'd stayed there longer and visited more. I miss my mom, since I don't see her as much. She says I never drop by...but to be fair, I do live 45 minuets away and don't happen to be in her neighborhood that often! :)
My ankle is not nearly as sore, but the rest of me is finally feeling the aftermath of falling down that hard. I think I pulled some muscles when I fell. My ankle is still swollen up like someone has stuck half a tennis ball under my skin, but amazingly it isn't bruised or anything. My big thing right now is that I can't go right back to the gym. I know I can't go today, at least, since it still hurts a little and is swollen, but I have a friend who has an MS in Exercise Science and is a performance enhancement specialist and injury prevention guy (Jeoff, Josh's partner, and he's awesome) and he said I could probably go back tomorrow as long as I didn't do anything too strenuous. I'd normally love an excuse not to go work out, but after the weird dreams I had when I missed last week, I'm scared to miss too much!
So there you go! The saga of me falling down and hurting myself! I hope you had a lovely Easter weekend! :)
WOO!
Saturday morning, Steve and I were out running errands and made an unplanned stop at Home Depot. We were walking into the building when I either stepped in a puddle of water, or possibly oil (I couldn't tell what it was, I just know it was slippery) when my left foot slipped and went down. Hard. I'm really glad Steve was holding one of my hands, because I think if he hadn't pulled me up just a bit, I might have broken my wrist or something. It wasn't even one of those funny, slipping around trying to catch my balance kind of falls either, it was just that moment of knowing I'd slipped and then hitting the ground. Everything turned except for my left foot, which is weird since that one was the one that stepped in the puddle to begin with. My right flip-flop flew off and I was just suddenly lying there on the concrete under the awning of the store.
Once I hit the ground, my mind went "Oh, how embarrass...holy crap my leg is on fire!" It must've looked bad, because Steve didn't even laugh! :) I vaguely remember a man walking past us to go inside (thanks for your concern, there, good Samaritan) but mostly I was doing that internal thing where you try to decide if you're going to cry or scream profanity. Luckily, I did neither. I honestly thought someone from inside would come out and at least help pick me up off of the ground, since we were literally just a few feet from the entrance, but no one did. So Steve picked me up and helped me back to the car so I could assess the damage while he went inside the store.
I actually didn't think I was hurt at all, once I sat down. I mean, my hand was bleeding from where it had landed on a piece of gravel, but I cleaned that up. My ankle seemed fine, which I thought was strange owing to how much it hurt when I actually fell. I was relieved that it wasn't worse. I just sat in the car flexing it and making sure nothing else was hurt.
Steve was actually in the store for a long time, so I thought he must have been telling someone that I slipped in a puddle. We aren't litigious people, but I figured he'd at least mention that there was a dangerous slippery puddle by the door. Turned out that, no, he'd just gone inside and looked around for whatever he'd gone in for. (Don't worry, I've already had my moment of berating him for this. But I can't really blame him completely because I said I was OK.) He said no one was around the door when he went in, so probably no one saw me. I seriously doubt that, but since he didn't say anything to them, I'm sure they weren't going to bring it up.
Anyway, so he came out with his stuff and we went on our way to finish our errands. My ankle did start to hurt, so I guess the initial painlessness was due to adrenaline or something. Stupid me walked on that ankle a lot that day, limping from place to place, until we got home and I could really take a good look at it. It was swollen very badly, but not bruised at all. We wrapped it up, put some ice on it, and I kept it propped up for a while.
By that night, I could barely walk it hurt so bad. I've sprained this same ankle a lot of times, and it's never hurt like that before. I had to pull myself around from place to place, and I even tried using a crutch I found (weirdly, only one crutch) but I wasn't coordinated enough to make that work. I finally went to bed, tried to keep it propped up on pillows, and not move it unless I had to.
Sunday was Easter, of course, and I had to run sound and lights for the service, and even though it was a lot better from the day before, I still had to hobble around like an old lady to get ready for church. I couldn't wear my heels, of course, and I don't own any flat dress shoes, so I ended up wrapping my ankle over my hose and having to wear a pair of those Dr. Scholls Fast Flats that were too big for me, so I could stuff my bandaged foot inside of them. Sexy. I managed to get inside the church with Steve's help, and Mr. Lee brought me the cane he'd used after he'd had knee surgery so I could get up and down stairs. I was a sight. I also felt like an idiot for using a cane just because I'd sprained my ankle. We have a child at church who was born with spina biffida and not even she uses a cane. It made me feel bad and obvious and attention seeking. Also, I'm not really coordinated enough to use a cane either, so I had to walk on the one corner of my heel that didn't cause pain to shoot up my leg, while trying to figure out how to get the cane to work in synch with my other leg. I was very awkward. I probably could have done without the cane except for the stairs and needing it to brace myself while sitting down and getting into the car, but I was glad to have it to help me out.
By that afternoon, I was hobbling about quite respectfully without the cane and my ankle was hurting much less, so I managed to get around Mom's house with little problem. We went there for lunch and had a great time, although I wish we'd stayed there longer and visited more. I miss my mom, since I don't see her as much. She says I never drop by...but to be fair, I do live 45 minuets away and don't happen to be in her neighborhood that often! :)
My ankle is not nearly as sore, but the rest of me is finally feeling the aftermath of falling down that hard. I think I pulled some muscles when I fell. My ankle is still swollen up like someone has stuck half a tennis ball under my skin, but amazingly it isn't bruised or anything. My big thing right now is that I can't go right back to the gym. I know I can't go today, at least, since it still hurts a little and is swollen, but I have a friend who has an MS in Exercise Science and is a performance enhancement specialist and injury prevention guy (Jeoff, Josh's partner, and he's awesome) and he said I could probably go back tomorrow as long as I didn't do anything too strenuous. I'd normally love an excuse not to go work out, but after the weird dreams I had when I missed last week, I'm scared to miss too much!
So there you go! The saga of me falling down and hurting myself! I hope you had a lovely Easter weekend! :)
Friday, April 06, 2012
I THINK MY BRAIN IS TRYING TO TELL ME SOMETHING
For some reason, I woke up super early this morning and decided to go ahead and get out of bed. I let the dogs out and changed into my gym clothes, but instead of doing the smart thing and going to the gym to get my workout over with, I turned around and went back to bed.
I'd had to reset the alarm clock (Steve slapped the off button instead of snooze) so by the time I'd actually fallen asleep again, the alarm started going off and I was having to wake up every 7 minutes to hit snooze again (don't judge, it was still before 6:00 A.M.) I don't know if it was a combination of my subconscious knowing I was just going to have to wake up again and push the button and the fact that I never got to go deep into sleep, but in between alarm beeps I had the absolute weirdest combination of dreams/hallucinations that I've had in a very long time.
One involved getting a long and rather uncomfortable hug from someone I used to go to church with, one was about going to a friend's house to take a shower and completely flooding their bathroom, and I had several different ones that were just sounds. But the one that really got me was, I think, built off of guilt of skipping the gym yesterday.
I dreamed I was walking home along the sidewalks that run down the side of the main road that goes past our subdivision. In real life, I could walk down that same sidewalk and get to my gym, but I was walking away from the gym in my dream. There was an elderly woman ahead of me who had stopped to stretch her legs and an elderly man walking towards the both of us. I stopped walking so that the man could get by, but he also stopped so I could go ahead, but when I tried to walk around the old lady, she jumped in front of me. When I tried to walk around the other way, she jumped ahead of me again. She laughed and said she was sorry and let me pass, but then I ran smack into the old man. He also laughed and let me by, but when I turned around to continue walking, the bushes and trees on each side of the sidewalk had grown together and I couldn't get through them. By now I was definitely frustrated, so I was going to walk into the street to go around the tangle of bushes. The second my foot hit the street, the entire freaking neighborhood tipped over on its side, like that scene in Inception, and I fell over and started rolling back down the hill back towards the gym.
I woke up after that, but I honestly don't think I've ever had a dream that has had a more clear message: DON'T SKIP THE GYM.
If going to the gym was actually working, I'd be more inclined not to want to give that dream the finger, but as it stands...
I'd had to reset the alarm clock (Steve slapped the off button instead of snooze) so by the time I'd actually fallen asleep again, the alarm started going off and I was having to wake up every 7 minutes to hit snooze again (don't judge, it was still before 6:00 A.M.) I don't know if it was a combination of my subconscious knowing I was just going to have to wake up again and push the button and the fact that I never got to go deep into sleep, but in between alarm beeps I had the absolute weirdest combination of dreams/hallucinations that I've had in a very long time.
One involved getting a long and rather uncomfortable hug from someone I used to go to church with, one was about going to a friend's house to take a shower and completely flooding their bathroom, and I had several different ones that were just sounds. But the one that really got me was, I think, built off of guilt of skipping the gym yesterday.
I dreamed I was walking home along the sidewalks that run down the side of the main road that goes past our subdivision. In real life, I could walk down that same sidewalk and get to my gym, but I was walking away from the gym in my dream. There was an elderly woman ahead of me who had stopped to stretch her legs and an elderly man walking towards the both of us. I stopped walking so that the man could get by, but he also stopped so I could go ahead, but when I tried to walk around the old lady, she jumped in front of me. When I tried to walk around the other way, she jumped ahead of me again. She laughed and said she was sorry and let me pass, but then I ran smack into the old man. He also laughed and let me by, but when I turned around to continue walking, the bushes and trees on each side of the sidewalk had grown together and I couldn't get through them. By now I was definitely frustrated, so I was going to walk into the street to go around the tangle of bushes. The second my foot hit the street, the entire freaking neighborhood tipped over on its side, like that scene in Inception, and I fell over and started rolling back down the hill back towards the gym.
I woke up after that, but I honestly don't think I've ever had a dream that has had a more clear message: DON'T SKIP THE GYM.
If going to the gym was actually working, I'd be more inclined not to want to give that dream the finger, but as it stands...
Monday, April 02, 2012
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) I absolutely cannot stand it when I'm talking to someone, and I ask a question, and they just ignore it. I'm not talking about situations when I ask a question and whomever I'm talking to doesn't give me a straight answer to it, I'm talking about people who just completely act as if the question had never been asked and start talking about something else. This happened to me again yesterday! I just don't understand the rudeness of it.
I guess what really bothers me is that they weren't even personal questions. I know my idea of personal information and other people's ideas are sometimes different, but I generally don't ask knowingly personal questions of people unless we're very good friends and I think they'd be comfortable telling me. I'll even go a step further and say that I completely understand even when those friends don't want to talk about those things with me, if they are truly personal and uncomfortable to talk about. They can just tell me they don't want to talk about it or whatever and I'm OK with that.
However, to just ignore a general question (one I'd needed an answer for) in the middle of a conversation is just so flipping rude! I even repeated myself thinking that they didn't hear me, but I know they did. Then the person I was talking to just turned around and started talking to someone else (about the same dang subject) as if I had just evaporated. I sat there, trying to figure out if what I asked was rude or prying in some way (and, hand to God, I can't see how that's possible considering the subject of our talk) but it just flew all over me. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but I guess I just don't understand how otherwise generally well-bred people can just be so freaking rude for no reason. I can't imagine ever doing that. It's like slamming a door in someone's face mid sentence.
Sorry for being ranty, but people who are blatantly rude just get up my nose.
2) Are there any amateur dog whisperers out there? Butler has been acting very weird and it's worrying me.
About two weeks ago we had to take him to the vet for his normal "old man" check-up and shots. As you know, he hates getting in the car and going places, so it was as traumatic as it always is. He didn't have a complete strip-the-gears checkup, but they did the usual blood work and senior exam stuff, but nothing really out of the ordinary. When we got him home he refused to go outside, which is weird. It was really weird. He wanted to come into the house and stay, but we can't let him do that usually because he's very clingy and if he's loose inside the house he basically wants to walk in-between your feet and stay right with you. That means that you can't really do anything productive. We eventually had to push him outside, which I hate to do because it makes me fee l so mean, but he seemed fine once he got out there so we didn't worry too much.
Fast forward to that night when we put them to bed. Both dogs have been trained since they were puppies that they go into their kennels to sleep after they eat. That's just the way it's always been. Before we had gone to the vet, Butler had been doing this thing where we'd get him settled into his kennel, and then he'd stand up and scratch at the door. We finally figured out that it was because he wanted a drink of water, so we had gotten used to letting him out at least once every night to do that. If he stood up again, we'd just tell him it was time to sleep and he'd lay down again. But that night he refused to lay down. He'd bat at the door and whine, and I'd let him out to see if he was thirsty or if he needed to go outside. I wasn't sure if any of the shots had caused him to feel bad or something, and I didn't want a repeat of the horrible thing that happened in his kennel a while back. He didn't want to go outside and he didn't want water. He just started wandering around the house, which really isn't like him at all. Then he'd come back into the living room and go to kennel again. We'd close it up and the whole thing would start over again. We finally just went to bed, thinking he'd eventually lay down again, but he wouldn't. We could hear him scratching at the kennel door and doing that pitiful nose whistling thing that breaks my heart. I'd get up and let him out, but he'd just wander around again. I knew that if we kept getting up and letting him out, he'd never stop, so I finally had to just go to bed and try not to listen to him whine. Eventually we just took both dogs outside and let them stay out for the night, just in case he really was feeling sick.
It has been a little over two weeks and he is still doing it. I don't know what's wrong. We didn't get back any bad health reports from the vet, and at every other time of the day he seems exactly the same as usual. He sleeps, barks and pees on things. That's just how he rolls. But at night it's like he suddenly has the surge of nervous energy and he can't be still. We've tried sitting up with him for a while, we've tried sleeping in the living room with him(and I'd like to apologize to anyone who has ever had to sleep on our couch. It's torturous.) to see if he's just suddenly gotten some kind of separation anxiety. He still wants out while we're in there, and he will eventually lie down, but he jumps up anytime he hears a noise. I don't even know what to say to the vet if I were to call her. "Uh, my dog won't sleep at night, even though he sleeps all day. I know you said he needs more exercise, but we can't take him on walks at 1:00 in the morning!" He just sounds so pitiful and it also gets aggravating, because Steve and I need to sleep at night. I don't know. I just don't want to ignore him if he's got a problem, but it seems less like he's got a problem and more like he's just wanting to piss me off. Bless him.
3) This is a sad, but beautifully written piece that I think you should read. A friend of mine wrote it. It hurts my heart, but it also is a lovely bit of writing.
4) We had ants in our kitchen over the weekend. ANTS. You know how I feel about bugs of any type being in my house, but ants just tick me off. They are so tiny and hard to kill! I had seen one on my kitchen curtain earlier that day, but it was just the one. I can't remember if I killed it or not, but I think I did. Later that night Steve went to get something off of the counter and they were just...bleh...everywhere. Apparently I'd spilled some sugar behind the canister, and didn't realize it, and they were having a grand old time nomming away. The only poison spray we have to kill bugs is this high-octane stuff that is supposed to kill everything in it's path, but I know for a fact it doesn't kill ants. I nearly poisoned myself with it once trying to kill some ants in the cabinet, so I didn't want to spray it on the counters just in case I accidentally get it on something I'll eventually eat (again.) We ended up having to move everything, spraying bleach and water all over the counter-tops, and going on a stalking mission to hunt down and kill every last one of them. Our house reeked of bleach, and it ended up fading some of the paint on the wall, and the damned ants still were coming out of the woodwork. Literally, they were coming out of the woodwork. Apparently we have a breach that can't be fixed until we completely replace a window. Curses. Anyway, I finally located some of those ant bait things that we had left over from last time we had the ant problem and put them in strategic places. The ants went in and out of them, and a day later we didn't have anymore ants. So, yay, I guess.
I still feel guilty for using the ant traps. I mean, yes, I hate the ants and want them to die. But it's one thing when you're tracking them down and killing them yourself. It's completely another to trick them: "Oooooh, look, I'm providing you with delicious food! Please take it back to your home and share it with your family! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" I realize how dumb it is to feel guilty for that, but there you go...
I guess what really bothers me is that they weren't even personal questions. I know my idea of personal information and other people's ideas are sometimes different, but I generally don't ask knowingly personal questions of people unless we're very good friends and I think they'd be comfortable telling me. I'll even go a step further and say that I completely understand even when those friends don't want to talk about those things with me, if they are truly personal and uncomfortable to talk about. They can just tell me they don't want to talk about it or whatever and I'm OK with that.
However, to just ignore a general question (one I'd needed an answer for) in the middle of a conversation is just so flipping rude! I even repeated myself thinking that they didn't hear me, but I know they did. Then the person I was talking to just turned around and started talking to someone else (about the same dang subject) as if I had just evaporated. I sat there, trying to figure out if what I asked was rude or prying in some way (and, hand to God, I can't see how that's possible considering the subject of our talk) but it just flew all over me. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but I guess I just don't understand how otherwise generally well-bred people can just be so freaking rude for no reason. I can't imagine ever doing that. It's like slamming a door in someone's face mid sentence.
Sorry for being ranty, but people who are blatantly rude just get up my nose.
2) Are there any amateur dog whisperers out there? Butler has been acting very weird and it's worrying me.
About two weeks ago we had to take him to the vet for his normal "old man" check-up and shots. As you know, he hates getting in the car and going places, so it was as traumatic as it always is. He didn't have a complete strip-the-gears checkup, but they did the usual blood work and senior exam stuff, but nothing really out of the ordinary. When we got him home he refused to go outside, which is weird. It was really weird. He wanted to come into the house and stay, but we can't let him do that usually because he's very clingy and if he's loose inside the house he basically wants to walk in-between your feet and stay right with you. That means that you can't really do anything productive. We eventually had to push him outside, which I hate to do because it makes me fee l so mean, but he seemed fine once he got out there so we didn't worry too much.
Fast forward to that night when we put them to bed. Both dogs have been trained since they were puppies that they go into their kennels to sleep after they eat. That's just the way it's always been. Before we had gone to the vet, Butler had been doing this thing where we'd get him settled into his kennel, and then he'd stand up and scratch at the door. We finally figured out that it was because he wanted a drink of water, so we had gotten used to letting him out at least once every night to do that. If he stood up again, we'd just tell him it was time to sleep and he'd lay down again. But that night he refused to lay down. He'd bat at the door and whine, and I'd let him out to see if he was thirsty or if he needed to go outside. I wasn't sure if any of the shots had caused him to feel bad or something, and I didn't want a repeat of the horrible thing that happened in his kennel a while back. He didn't want to go outside and he didn't want water. He just started wandering around the house, which really isn't like him at all. Then he'd come back into the living room and go to kennel again. We'd close it up and the whole thing would start over again. We finally just went to bed, thinking he'd eventually lay down again, but he wouldn't. We could hear him scratching at the kennel door and doing that pitiful nose whistling thing that breaks my heart. I'd get up and let him out, but he'd just wander around again. I knew that if we kept getting up and letting him out, he'd never stop, so I finally had to just go to bed and try not to listen to him whine. Eventually we just took both dogs outside and let them stay out for the night, just in case he really was feeling sick.
It has been a little over two weeks and he is still doing it. I don't know what's wrong. We didn't get back any bad health reports from the vet, and at every other time of the day he seems exactly the same as usual. He sleeps, barks and pees on things. That's just how he rolls. But at night it's like he suddenly has the surge of nervous energy and he can't be still. We've tried sitting up with him for a while, we've tried sleeping in the living room with him(and I'd like to apologize to anyone who has ever had to sleep on our couch. It's torturous.) to see if he's just suddenly gotten some kind of separation anxiety. He still wants out while we're in there, and he will eventually lie down, but he jumps up anytime he hears a noise. I don't even know what to say to the vet if I were to call her. "Uh, my dog won't sleep at night, even though he sleeps all day. I know you said he needs more exercise, but we can't take him on walks at 1:00 in the morning!" He just sounds so pitiful and it also gets aggravating, because Steve and I need to sleep at night. I don't know. I just don't want to ignore him if he's got a problem, but it seems less like he's got a problem and more like he's just wanting to piss me off. Bless him.
3) This is a sad, but beautifully written piece that I think you should read. A friend of mine wrote it. It hurts my heart, but it also is a lovely bit of writing.
4) We had ants in our kitchen over the weekend. ANTS. You know how I feel about bugs of any type being in my house, but ants just tick me off. They are so tiny and hard to kill! I had seen one on my kitchen curtain earlier that day, but it was just the one. I can't remember if I killed it or not, but I think I did. Later that night Steve went to get something off of the counter and they were just...bleh...everywhere. Apparently I'd spilled some sugar behind the canister, and didn't realize it, and they were having a grand old time nomming away. The only poison spray we have to kill bugs is this high-octane stuff that is supposed to kill everything in it's path, but I know for a fact it doesn't kill ants. I nearly poisoned myself with it once trying to kill some ants in the cabinet, so I didn't want to spray it on the counters just in case I accidentally get it on something I'll eventually eat (again.) We ended up having to move everything, spraying bleach and water all over the counter-tops, and going on a stalking mission to hunt down and kill every last one of them. Our house reeked of bleach, and it ended up fading some of the paint on the wall, and the damned ants still were coming out of the woodwork. Literally, they were coming out of the woodwork. Apparently we have a breach that can't be fixed until we completely replace a window. Curses. Anyway, I finally located some of those ant bait things that we had left over from last time we had the ant problem and put them in strategic places. The ants went in and out of them, and a day later we didn't have anymore ants. So, yay, I guess.
I still feel guilty for using the ant traps. I mean, yes, I hate the ants and want them to die. But it's one thing when you're tracking them down and killing them yourself. It's completely another to trick them: "Oooooh, look, I'm providing you with delicious food! Please take it back to your home and share it with your family! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" I realize how dumb it is to feel guilty for that, but there you go...
Sunday, April 01, 2012
'TWAS BLIND, BUT NOW I SEE
Facepalm.
Sunday morning I woke up with sticky eyes. I think it actually had a lot to do with the pollen and what not, but since it was also time to change my contacts, I went ahead and took them out before I got in the shower. I kept reminding myself to make sure I put in a new pair of contacts, or at least grab my glasses, before heading out to church, but of course in the best tradition of good intentions, I didn't do either one. It wasn't until we were on our way to church that I noticed that I couldn't see anything clearly**. Thank goodness I wasn't the one driving!
Since we were already running late, we couldn't turn around and go home, so Steve and I decided that after orchestra practice (and after I got the sound system and announcements set) we'd run back home and I'd get them. It was kind of a miserable hour for me. Since I've started keeping my contacts in almost all of the time, I keep forgetting that I can't see squat without corrective lenses. I forget they are in my eyes altogether unless I get something stuck underneath one of them. Honestly, my vision has gotten so bad that just walking around in the church was hazardous. I had to feel my way around and I couldn't focus on anyone's face so that I could talk to them. I'm also pretty sure I looked like I was drunk, because I kept weaving around. Not being able to see clearly was scary!
So we came home, and since we had a few minutes to spare, I decided to pop in a new pair of contacts, which were from a brand new batch that I'd gotten from the eye doctor. I hadn't wanted to waste any of the old ones, so the pair I'd taken out that morning were the last of those and I hadn't tried wearing any of the new ones yet. My prescription had changed slightly, so I knew that when I put the new ones in, I'd have a little bit of adjusting to do, but I wasn't prepared for the absolute craziness I was greeted with when I put them in. My vision was just as bad, if not worse, than it had been without the lenses in. I kept thinking that I'd get used to them, but I didn't. To be on the safe side, I threw my glasses in my purse in case my vision didn't clear up by the time services started.
When I got to church, I kept trying to clear my eyes, but it wasn't working. I kept rubbing them and dabbing them with a tissue, but I still couldn't see. I'd also randomly chosen this day to wear mascara, which I hardly ever do, so I just knew by the time church started I'd look like a sad hooker clown, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was a little panicked because I was afraid that if I couldn't see, I wouldn't be able to catch the cues that I get from the music director, and that morning we were doing a different kind of service for Palm Sunday, so I finally just pulled out the contacts (and I wish I'd let the hand sanitizer dry before sticking my fingers in my eyes...ouch) and put on my glasses. Everything was fine after that.
My main concern was that my eye doctor had somehow screwed up my lens order, and how much of a pain in the butt it was going to be for me to get the new prescription set and wait on my new lenses. Also, I was going to have to wear my glasses every day until they came in. I know that's a big "First World Problem" but if you've ever gone from fooling with glasses to wearing contacts, you'll understand my chagrin. So once I got home, I decided to try the contact lenses again, and hopefully my eyes could adjust to them before night services. I got the left one in, and I was just as blind as I'd been before, and of course that was frustrating. I pressed on, though, because I was determined. When I raised my right contact to put it in, though, I saw a tiny line etched in the lens. I knew that my left contact had a line like that because I have astigmatism in that eye and the lens is weighted, but I'd never seen one on my right lens before. Of course, then it all made sense. I'd put my lenses in the wrong stinking eyes! My sight is completely different in each eye, not to mention that a regular lens doesn't even properly fit over an eye with astigmatism, so no wonder I was completely blind. I felt like such an idiot.
I don't think I'd feel even a quarter as dumb as I do if it weren't for two things: One, the boxes are very clearly marked (L) and (R) so that I don't accidentally switch lenses. Two, Steve asked me, as I was trying to figure out what the deal was, if I had the lenses in the wrong eyes. I just gave him that "I'm not an idiot" face and went about my business. Oops.
Anyways, now I can see and I'm feeling much better about life. *SIGH* It's things like this that remind me why I will never be a surgeon.
**EDIT: If you're wondering why I didn't realize I didn't have my contacts in before leaving the house, if my vision is as bad as I say, it's because I was in a hurry and my house is small. Since I'm near-sighted (or whichever one means I can't see far off) I didn't have to look very far to see the things in my house so they didn't seem very blurry to me. Also, I know where everything in my house is, so it didn't dawn on me that I couldn't see it very well anyways.
Sunday morning I woke up with sticky eyes. I think it actually had a lot to do with the pollen and what not, but since it was also time to change my contacts, I went ahead and took them out before I got in the shower. I kept reminding myself to make sure I put in a new pair of contacts, or at least grab my glasses, before heading out to church, but of course in the best tradition of good intentions, I didn't do either one. It wasn't until we were on our way to church that I noticed that I couldn't see anything clearly**. Thank goodness I wasn't the one driving!
Since we were already running late, we couldn't turn around and go home, so Steve and I decided that after orchestra practice (and after I got the sound system and announcements set) we'd run back home and I'd get them. It was kind of a miserable hour for me. Since I've started keeping my contacts in almost all of the time, I keep forgetting that I can't see squat without corrective lenses. I forget they are in my eyes altogether unless I get something stuck underneath one of them. Honestly, my vision has gotten so bad that just walking around in the church was hazardous. I had to feel my way around and I couldn't focus on anyone's face so that I could talk to them. I'm also pretty sure I looked like I was drunk, because I kept weaving around. Not being able to see clearly was scary!
So we came home, and since we had a few minutes to spare, I decided to pop in a new pair of contacts, which were from a brand new batch that I'd gotten from the eye doctor. I hadn't wanted to waste any of the old ones, so the pair I'd taken out that morning were the last of those and I hadn't tried wearing any of the new ones yet. My prescription had changed slightly, so I knew that when I put the new ones in, I'd have a little bit of adjusting to do, but I wasn't prepared for the absolute craziness I was greeted with when I put them in. My vision was just as bad, if not worse, than it had been without the lenses in. I kept thinking that I'd get used to them, but I didn't. To be on the safe side, I threw my glasses in my purse in case my vision didn't clear up by the time services started.
When I got to church, I kept trying to clear my eyes, but it wasn't working. I kept rubbing them and dabbing them with a tissue, but I still couldn't see. I'd also randomly chosen this day to wear mascara, which I hardly ever do, so I just knew by the time church started I'd look like a sad hooker clown, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was a little panicked because I was afraid that if I couldn't see, I wouldn't be able to catch the cues that I get from the music director, and that morning we were doing a different kind of service for Palm Sunday, so I finally just pulled out the contacts (and I wish I'd let the hand sanitizer dry before sticking my fingers in my eyes...ouch) and put on my glasses. Everything was fine after that.
My main concern was that my eye doctor had somehow screwed up my lens order, and how much of a pain in the butt it was going to be for me to get the new prescription set and wait on my new lenses. Also, I was going to have to wear my glasses every day until they came in. I know that's a big "First World Problem" but if you've ever gone from fooling with glasses to wearing contacts, you'll understand my chagrin. So once I got home, I decided to try the contact lenses again, and hopefully my eyes could adjust to them before night services. I got the left one in, and I was just as blind as I'd been before, and of course that was frustrating. I pressed on, though, because I was determined. When I raised my right contact to put it in, though, I saw a tiny line etched in the lens. I knew that my left contact had a line like that because I have astigmatism in that eye and the lens is weighted, but I'd never seen one on my right lens before. Of course, then it all made sense. I'd put my lenses in the wrong stinking eyes! My sight is completely different in each eye, not to mention that a regular lens doesn't even properly fit over an eye with astigmatism, so no wonder I was completely blind. I felt like such an idiot.
I don't think I'd feel even a quarter as dumb as I do if it weren't for two things: One, the boxes are very clearly marked (L) and (R) so that I don't accidentally switch lenses. Two, Steve asked me, as I was trying to figure out what the deal was, if I had the lenses in the wrong eyes. I just gave him that "I'm not an idiot" face and went about my business. Oops.
Anyways, now I can see and I'm feeling much better about life. *SIGH* It's things like this that remind me why I will never be a surgeon.
**EDIT: If you're wondering why I didn't realize I didn't have my contacts in before leaving the house, if my vision is as bad as I say, it's because I was in a hurry and my house is small. Since I'm near-sighted (or whichever one means I can't see far off) I didn't have to look very far to see the things in my house so they didn't seem very blurry to me. Also, I know where everything in my house is, so it didn't dawn on me that I couldn't see it very well anyways.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
A QUICKY
I love the fact that I have some friends that feel that I'm the kind of person that they can talk to and trust enough to tell personal things to. That makes me very happy.
Having said that...holy cow. There are just some things you never expect to know.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Having said that...holy cow. There are just some things you never expect to know.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Friday, March 16, 2012
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) I'm so excited about the new Hunger Games movie that will be coming out soon! I mean, I'm not going to wear a bow and arrow to the theater or anything, but I'm excited. The books were phenomenal, and that isn't something I usually say about YA books. I got these books because my sister told me that my oldest nephew, Logan, liked them. I figured that if the book could hold a non-reader's attention long enough to finish the series, I should try them. I'm so glad I did. :)
One funny thing I've noticed about the whole deal, though, is that so much of the marketing of the movie has become a reflection of some of the aspects of the book itself. On purpose or not, the author paints a picture of a society where materialism, marketing, and entertainment have become a driving force for the government of Panem, which, if you aren't familiar with the books, is a future, dystopian United States that was fractured after some cataclysmic war. A great deal of time is spent detailing the frivolous lives of the people who spend so much money advertising and promoting the hunger games, not to mention the people who go nuts watching the thing and buying products either promoted by the games, or by the winner. Just in the last couple of days I've seen an influx of merchandise that promotes the movie, as well as things like "Train Like a Tribute" exercise classes, hairstyles and clothing, and even a wedding photo shoot (not for an actual wedding, mind you, just an artistic shoot) on styles based on the book and movie. It's become this huge thing, and it's almost funny how closely it parallels the story.
It's kind of mind blowing, really, when you realize that the subject matter of the books is basically children murdering each other in almost Roman gladiatorial games types of ways. It's a brutal story. However, I completely understand the marketing and all that, since they've got to make their money. I just wonder how many of them realize that they are promoting a movie that is basically mocking them?
2) I think I'm the only person in my gym that sweats. Well, me and this tiny, Indian lady who runs on the treadmill. I'm not kidding, I'm starting to get a complex. I see people working as hard, if not harder than me and they look like they just stepped out of a freezer or something, and I'm sweating like crazy. Of course, I suppose if I didn't sweat I'd die of overheating, so I guess I should be glad for my own sake that it's happening. Yuck, though...
3) I'm currently following a gimmick Twitter feed about the Titanic. (@TitanicRealTime) It's interesting, because it is basically supposed to look as if someone, or different someones, are doing a Twitter feed during the actual building and maiden voyage of the Titanic. They talk about how the building is going, they post pictures, and talk about the different luxuries and such that the Titanic offers. I've got to wonder, though, how far they'll take it? Will they be tweeting about how the ship is sinking, or how the back is starting to raise out of the water, and the ship breaks in half? Honestly, if we are pretending that people from the Titanic are tweeting the events, at what point should these imaginary people just put their iPhones (iTelegraphs?) away and get into the stinking lifeboats already!!! My personal hope is that the last tweet will be something along the lines of "Well, I guess this is it. None of the lifeboats came back, so I guess I'm going to freeze to death in the frigid waters of the north Atlantic. I REGRET NOTHING!!!! #glub"
One funny thing I've noticed about the whole deal, though, is that so much of the marketing of the movie has become a reflection of some of the aspects of the book itself. On purpose or not, the author paints a picture of a society where materialism, marketing, and entertainment have become a driving force for the government of Panem, which, if you aren't familiar with the books, is a future, dystopian United States that was fractured after some cataclysmic war. A great deal of time is spent detailing the frivolous lives of the people who spend so much money advertising and promoting the hunger games, not to mention the people who go nuts watching the thing and buying products either promoted by the games, or by the winner. Just in the last couple of days I've seen an influx of merchandise that promotes the movie, as well as things like "Train Like a Tribute" exercise classes, hairstyles and clothing, and even a wedding photo shoot (not for an actual wedding, mind you, just an artistic shoot) on styles based on the book and movie. It's become this huge thing, and it's almost funny how closely it parallels the story.
It's kind of mind blowing, really, when you realize that the subject matter of the books is basically children murdering each other in almost Roman gladiatorial games types of ways. It's a brutal story. However, I completely understand the marketing and all that, since they've got to make their money. I just wonder how many of them realize that they are promoting a movie that is basically mocking them?
2) I think I'm the only person in my gym that sweats. Well, me and this tiny, Indian lady who runs on the treadmill. I'm not kidding, I'm starting to get a complex. I see people working as hard, if not harder than me and they look like they just stepped out of a freezer or something, and I'm sweating like crazy. Of course, I suppose if I didn't sweat I'd die of overheating, so I guess I should be glad for my own sake that it's happening. Yuck, though...
3) I'm currently following a gimmick Twitter feed about the Titanic. (@TitanicRealTime) It's interesting, because it is basically supposed to look as if someone, or different someones, are doing a Twitter feed during the actual building and maiden voyage of the Titanic. They talk about how the building is going, they post pictures, and talk about the different luxuries and such that the Titanic offers. I've got to wonder, though, how far they'll take it? Will they be tweeting about how the ship is sinking, or how the back is starting to raise out of the water, and the ship breaks in half? Honestly, if we are pretending that people from the Titanic are tweeting the events, at what point should these imaginary people just put their iPhones (iTelegraphs?) away and get into the stinking lifeboats already!!! My personal hope is that the last tweet will be something along the lines of "Well, I guess this is it. None of the lifeboats came back, so I guess I'm going to freeze to death in the frigid waters of the north Atlantic. I REGRET NOTHING!!!! #glub"
Monday, March 12, 2012
LONG TIME NO SEE
Well, hello there! It's been a while, hasn't it?
I wanted to assure you that I wasn't dead (at least not at the time of this writing I wasn't. But if I were, it'd be wicked creepy, right? Can ghosts even type?) and that I hadn't completely abandoned the idea of blogging. I've just been...eh...well, I guess you could say I've been otherwise occupied.
OK, that's kind of a lie. The reason I haven't been writing is because I've been to tired to type. I know that sounds absolutely dumb, but it's the truth. For the past two weeks, I've been too tired and brain addled to actually function as a thinking person. I've had all these things I've wanted to write about, but I didn't have the energy. Of course, now I can't remember any of my stories, which stinks, because I'm sure they were entertaining.
Anyways, so why have I been so tired? Well, because I have recently been put on a rather demanding (for me anyway) diet and exercise regimen and I think it's killing me.
It all began a little over two weeks ago when I had to go see my doctor for my quarterly weight-loss checkup. For those of you who know me well, you know that I've struggled with my weight for years. I'm not, you know, carnival side-show fat or anything, but I've been heavier than I should be for a while. I'd been trying to lose weight, but I wasn't having much success. I'll admit to the fact that I'd been kind of half-hearted in my attempts since my last check-up, at least at first. There were the holidays to get through (which is when all the good food is around) and also, I really, really, really like food. I'm serious. I like to eat a whole lot. However, after the new year, I decided to get more serious about trying to lose weight and I thought I had been doing a pretty good, if kind of erratic, job at it. At least I thought so until I went for my checkup and saw that I'd gained 5 pounds on top of all the other weight I needed to lose. I actually started to cry, sitting right there in front of my doctor. It was embarrassing.
I wasn't crying because I'd gained weight, really. I was frustrated. I'm sure everyone knows what it feels like to think that you are finally making some headway on a project or whatever, only to realize that you are not only stalled, but starting to go in the complete wrong direction. Gah! My doctor, who is a dear, sweet, old guy, apparently doesn't like crying ladies, so after a few more questions, he walked out and sent a nurse in to finish up my appointment and to tell me they'd made an appointment for me with a dietician the next week. That was not a good day for me, as you probably noticed, because I had to put an otter on this blog to make myself feel better. Shut up, otters are adorable.
The dietician was not a fitness nazi like I'd assumed she'd be. She's very young, very sweet, and very perky. I really have no idea how to explain my first impression of her, because I'm sure she wasn't being rude in any way, but I think tactless is the right word. She took me into the room where she does her appointments and weighed me, and she said "Wow, I'd never had guessed you weighed that much! I mean, I can usually call it withing a pound or two, I could probably work for a carnival, but you don't look like you weigh that much!" Uh...thanks? Luckily she turned out to be very nice and professional, so I forgive her initial comment. :) Very good of me, no?
The things she said actually made a lot of sense to me, and surprisingly I'd been eating most of the right kinds of things all along. However, as a whole, I was doing almost everything wrong as far as portions, exercise, and I was cheating way too often. It wasn't until she lay it all out for me that I realized what I was doing wrong. I'd learned a lot about about nutrition from a church program we had years ago called First Place, so that part was easy, but the exercise part was what gave me pause. She asked how often I'd been going to the gym, and then said I'd probably need to be going 5 times a week. Oy vey, y'all, the only thing that had made it possible for me to go to the gym up to that point was knowing that there were days I didn't have to go. She also said one thing that really stuck with me. She said that I'd have to make the decision: Do I want to eat the things that are bad for me more than I want to reach my goals. Crap. I hate it when people remind me that my own decisions affect my life. I enjoy being able to blame other people!
It's been hard, I'm not going to lie about that. Changing my eating habits has been, and continues to be, very hard for me because there are so many delicious things I want to eat and have to avoid. I'm not on a diet, per se, because I can eat whatever I want, but for the first time I'm having to decide if it's worth it to eat the things that I know are bad for me. It sucks, but it's slowly getting better. At least I'm passed the point of being willing to trade sexual favors for cookies! :)
The exercise, though...is the worst. I think the exercising is what is slowly killing me. I know that it's just because I'm just starting out with the new exercise regimen, but so far it's sapping my will to live. I've been going in the mornings, and by the time I get back home I'm a worthless lump of person. There have been days where I haven't been able to do anything at all for the rest of the day. The best way to describe it is this: Have you ever gotten really bad news? Like, I don't know, someone you love has died or committed a murder or something equally as bad, and after the initial shock and tears are over, you just sit there in a soupy fog of despair, unable to think or move or function in any useful way? That's how I've been feeling, minus the despair of course. That sounds kind of melodramatic, but hand to God, that's as apt as I can be. I've even had moments were my brain has thought "Oh, are we doing the moveless-depression thing?" and I've gotten tears in my eyes - which I suppose is some kind of reaction my body has to snap me out of that- but then I remember I'm not sad and crying would be weird and unhelpful. I've had moments when one of my legs just refused to do what I asked it, and I've gone places to do errands and had to leave because I was so tired that I was afraid that I'd fall over in the middle of an aisle. I'd sat down a couple of times to write on this blog, but the act of typing was just too much to deal with. That part is also getting better, but very, very slowly.
So that's where I am. I have no idea if I'm going to be able to stick with this, because quite honestly it's hard and I'm a little flaky, but I'm going to try. I'd like to be successful through sheer will-power, but I don't have much of that. We'll see. Hopefully now I'm getting on top of some of this and there will be less of the jelly-legged exhaustion and more of the "Hey, exercise makes me feel good" type of stuff I'm hearing so much about. I've got to get my head in the game, as the saying goes. Maybe once I am able to see some kind of results from this, it'll get easier. I hope so! Keep your fingers crossed for me, 'cause I'm going to need it.
At any rate, at least now I'm not too tired to write, so there's that. :) Now, if you will excuse me, I've got to drag myself across the room and find a place to curl up and sleep for a couple of hours.
I wanted to assure you that I wasn't dead (at least not at the time of this writing I wasn't. But if I were, it'd be wicked creepy, right? Can ghosts even type?) and that I hadn't completely abandoned the idea of blogging. I've just been...eh...well, I guess you could say I've been otherwise occupied.
OK, that's kind of a lie. The reason I haven't been writing is because I've been to tired to type. I know that sounds absolutely dumb, but it's the truth. For the past two weeks, I've been too tired and brain addled to actually function as a thinking person. I've had all these things I've wanted to write about, but I didn't have the energy. Of course, now I can't remember any of my stories, which stinks, because I'm sure they were entertaining.
Anyways, so why have I been so tired? Well, because I have recently been put on a rather demanding (for me anyway) diet and exercise regimen and I think it's killing me.
It all began a little over two weeks ago when I had to go see my doctor for my quarterly weight-loss checkup. For those of you who know me well, you know that I've struggled with my weight for years. I'm not, you know, carnival side-show fat or anything, but I've been heavier than I should be for a while. I'd been trying to lose weight, but I wasn't having much success. I'll admit to the fact that I'd been kind of half-hearted in my attempts since my last check-up, at least at first. There were the holidays to get through (which is when all the good food is around) and also, I really, really, really like food. I'm serious. I like to eat a whole lot. However, after the new year, I decided to get more serious about trying to lose weight and I thought I had been doing a pretty good, if kind of erratic, job at it. At least I thought so until I went for my checkup and saw that I'd gained 5 pounds on top of all the other weight I needed to lose. I actually started to cry, sitting right there in front of my doctor. It was embarrassing.
I wasn't crying because I'd gained weight, really. I was frustrated. I'm sure everyone knows what it feels like to think that you are finally making some headway on a project or whatever, only to realize that you are not only stalled, but starting to go in the complete wrong direction. Gah! My doctor, who is a dear, sweet, old guy, apparently doesn't like crying ladies, so after a few more questions, he walked out and sent a nurse in to finish up my appointment and to tell me they'd made an appointment for me with a dietician the next week. That was not a good day for me, as you probably noticed, because I had to put an otter on this blog to make myself feel better. Shut up, otters are adorable.
The dietician was not a fitness nazi like I'd assumed she'd be. She's very young, very sweet, and very perky. I really have no idea how to explain my first impression of her, because I'm sure she wasn't being rude in any way, but I think tactless is the right word. She took me into the room where she does her appointments and weighed me, and she said "Wow, I'd never had guessed you weighed that much! I mean, I can usually call it withing a pound or two, I could probably work for a carnival, but you don't look like you weigh that much!" Uh...thanks? Luckily she turned out to be very nice and professional, so I forgive her initial comment. :) Very good of me, no?
The things she said actually made a lot of sense to me, and surprisingly I'd been eating most of the right kinds of things all along. However, as a whole, I was doing almost everything wrong as far as portions, exercise, and I was cheating way too often. It wasn't until she lay it all out for me that I realized what I was doing wrong. I'd learned a lot about about nutrition from a church program we had years ago called First Place, so that part was easy, but the exercise part was what gave me pause. She asked how often I'd been going to the gym, and then said I'd probably need to be going 5 times a week. Oy vey, y'all, the only thing that had made it possible for me to go to the gym up to that point was knowing that there were days I didn't have to go. She also said one thing that really stuck with me. She said that I'd have to make the decision: Do I want to eat the things that are bad for me more than I want to reach my goals. Crap. I hate it when people remind me that my own decisions affect my life. I enjoy being able to blame other people!
It's been hard, I'm not going to lie about that. Changing my eating habits has been, and continues to be, very hard for me because there are so many delicious things I want to eat and have to avoid. I'm not on a diet, per se, because I can eat whatever I want, but for the first time I'm having to decide if it's worth it to eat the things that I know are bad for me. It sucks, but it's slowly getting better. At least I'm passed the point of being willing to trade sexual favors for cookies! :)
The exercise, though...is the worst. I think the exercising is what is slowly killing me. I know that it's just because I'm just starting out with the new exercise regimen, but so far it's sapping my will to live. I've been going in the mornings, and by the time I get back home I'm a worthless lump of person. There have been days where I haven't been able to do anything at all for the rest of the day. The best way to describe it is this: Have you ever gotten really bad news? Like, I don't know, someone you love has died or committed a murder or something equally as bad, and after the initial shock and tears are over, you just sit there in a soupy fog of despair, unable to think or move or function in any useful way? That's how I've been feeling, minus the despair of course. That sounds kind of melodramatic, but hand to God, that's as apt as I can be. I've even had moments were my brain has thought "Oh, are we doing the moveless-depression thing?" and I've gotten tears in my eyes - which I suppose is some kind of reaction my body has to snap me out of that- but then I remember I'm not sad and crying would be weird and unhelpful. I've had moments when one of my legs just refused to do what I asked it, and I've gone places to do errands and had to leave because I was so tired that I was afraid that I'd fall over in the middle of an aisle. I'd sat down a couple of times to write on this blog, but the act of typing was just too much to deal with. That part is also getting better, but very, very slowly.
So that's where I am. I have no idea if I'm going to be able to stick with this, because quite honestly it's hard and I'm a little flaky, but I'm going to try. I'd like to be successful through sheer will-power, but I don't have much of that. We'll see. Hopefully now I'm getting on top of some of this and there will be less of the jelly-legged exhaustion and more of the "Hey, exercise makes me feel good" type of stuff I'm hearing so much about. I've got to get my head in the game, as the saying goes. Maybe once I am able to see some kind of results from this, it'll get easier. I hope so! Keep your fingers crossed for me, 'cause I'm going to need it.
At any rate, at least now I'm not too tired to write, so there's that. :) Now, if you will excuse me, I've got to drag myself across the room and find a place to curl up and sleep for a couple of hours.
Monday, February 20, 2012
MORE RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) Well, I'm a genius. This morning I decided that I was going to be efficient. I knew I was going to make myself go to the gym and I knew I had to go to the bank. Since I wasn't going to have to get out of the car at the bank, it only made sense to drive over there after the gym and go to one of the drive in tellers! Two birds with one stone, don't 'cha know. I was so proud of myself for thinking ahead and not wasting a trip and all of that, and when I got to the bank I was even prouder of myself for getting there bright and early to avoid the long lines!
Then I remembered that today is a holiday and the banks are closed. So much for efficiency.
Curses.
2) The Sunday before last, it was very cold outside. Probably colder than it had been all winter up to that point. While I was getting ready for church, I looked in my closet and realized that I couldn't stand the thought of putting on a dress while it was that cold outside and opted to wear slacks and a sweater instead.
Unfortunately, I was also having one of those "I hate all my clothes and nothing fits" days (some of you know what I mean) and couldn't find a sweater that fit or that didn't look ratty. It hasn't been cold enough to really justify buying any new ones this year, so I was stuck with last year's models. Well, except for one sweater that was brand new and I'd never worn it before, but I was hesitant.
See, last November, we went to the Mall of Georgia and visited a store called Museum Replicas. This place sells replica movie and television props and costumes, and for reasons I still don't understand, I got a replica Hogwarts uniform sweater/tie combo- Griffindor house colors, in case you're curious. It was a licensed replica, so it didn't have any patches or words on it that said it was connected to Harry Potter in any way, it was simply a nice gray sweater that looks like this:
Then I remembered that today is a holiday and the banks are closed. So much for efficiency.
Curses.
2) The Sunday before last, it was very cold outside. Probably colder than it had been all winter up to that point. While I was getting ready for church, I looked in my closet and realized that I couldn't stand the thought of putting on a dress while it was that cold outside and opted to wear slacks and a sweater instead.
Unfortunately, I was also having one of those "I hate all my clothes and nothing fits" days (some of you know what I mean) and couldn't find a sweater that fit or that didn't look ratty. It hasn't been cold enough to really justify buying any new ones this year, so I was stuck with last year's models. Well, except for one sweater that was brand new and I'd never worn it before, but I was hesitant.
See, last November, we went to the Mall of Georgia and visited a store called Museum Replicas. This place sells replica movie and television props and costumes, and for reasons I still don't understand, I got a replica Hogwarts uniform sweater/tie combo- Griffindor house colors, in case you're curious. It was a licensed replica, so it didn't have any patches or words on it that said it was connected to Harry Potter in any way, it was simply a nice gray sweater that looks like this:
Ten points to Griffindor!
I know I don't usually wear ties, but it isn't unheard of, and I thought that since there were no words stitched on the sweater, or a big Hogwarts shield on it anywhere that I could possibly get away with wearing it without any problems. A lot of our church members are old, so I didn't think they'd recognize it, and since I sit in the sound booth during services, I knew I'd be in the back out of sight anyway.
Believe it or not, I was told by a couple of our older church members that I looked really nice and they didn't mention anything about movies, so I thought I was home free. However, it didn't take long before someone recognized it for what it was. Then way more people than I expected to know what it was figured it out. If they asked, I was honest, but I still felt kind of silly. I think I probably would have still been OK, if one of the men who noticed what I was wearing hadn't stopped me in front of the youth group and start asking me if the stairs changed around while I was going to class, and then start talking to the picture of King David in the window like it was one of the sentient paintings.
So yes, I wore a Hogwarts uniform to church. I wasn't trying to be weird or trying to get attention, I was just trying to stay warm. I promise. * Facepalm. *
3) I was checking my page tracker to see what people had been searching for when they came across my blog. Someone had typed in "What are tapioca balls made of?" Sigh. In case anyone else comes across this while asking the same question, the answer is narwhal horn dust. It isn't suitable for vegetarians unless they aren't that strict. Oy.
4) Last Friday, Mr. Lee took Steve and I out to dinner to celebrate my birthday! We had a lot of fun, and thankfully we managed to get out of the restaurant before anyone sang to me. *shudder* He also mentioned wanting to see a movie, and his only stipulation was that he wanted to see a 3D movie since that's his thing. I think he goes to see all of the 3D movies that come out, just to see how competent the film makers are. :) Since there were only 3 of those kind of movies playing, and I for darn sure wasn't going to see Ghost Rider 2 (Sorry, Nic Cage) and I didn't want to see the one with Dewane Johnson in it about a mysterious mountain or island or whatever, we decided to go and see "The Phantom Menace." Shut up.
It has been a long time since I've actually watched that particular movie, so time had faded my memories of it a bit. I know that I like Star Wars just fine, and I didn't even remember hating Jar Jar Binks all that much, so I figured it wouldn't be too bad.
I was wrong. So very wrong. The movie was terrible. Not only was the 3D conversion terrible and unnecessary, the movie itself was just awful. The acting, save for Liam Neeson and the guy who played Obi Wan, was dreadful. The dialog, the cartoony-ness of the special effects...just...bleh. Obviously I'm not the target audience for this, but I can always appreciate good movies, no matter who they are directed at and this was not good. No offense to Mr. Lucas -mainly because I'm sure his company could figure out a way to track me down and do something else to me - kill my dogs or something since I don't have a job to get fired from this time. (You still aren't forgiven you web crawling bastards!) - but you need to just walk away. Please. Leave the movies the way they are and retire or make other movies or something. This re-release was nothing short of a money grab, and I hate to say that we added our own funds into that pot.
Honestly, and I'm speaking directly to you now George Lucas, I say this with full conviction: When it comes to movies, you are one of the most brilliant and creative minds on this planet. You have done things and continue to do things to almost literally create magic. Without the things you and ILM have developed, I'm sure movies wouldn't be as fantastical as they have become. You created a wonderful thing with Star Wars, a thing that probably blew up way bigger than you ever thought it could, and that is honestly fantastic, but I'm begging you to just. Leave. Them. Alone. No more tweaking, no more conversions, no more Greedos shooting first...just leave them be. You are bad touching a lot of childhoods, and that is not cool. I don't care if you made these movies, they no longer belong to you. They belong to everyone who love them and the majority of them don't want you messing with them anymore.
5) Anyway..so I just ranted about Star Wars. This must mean my blood sugar is low and I'm not being rational anymore. I going to go eat breakfast before I start talking politics.
Friday, February 17, 2012
1) I had a lovely birthday, thank you for asking! This year I had a body guard, which really cut down on the bodily harm and fires. :) Steve took the day off to spend it with me, and we had a nice, low key day. We went to breakfast at Cracker Barrel (shut up, their bacon is amazing) and then we just wandered around town doing different stuff. He took me to pick out my gift, because he knows I'm super picky about jewelry (he told me what he wanted to get me and I picked which one), and then he allowed me to drag him into a couple of girl stores. I feel really tacky about one, though. I went to Sephora because I am a member of some kind of points program and one of the perks is that I am entitled to a free gift on my birthday. Before we had a store, if I wanted the free gift I'd have to order something online and have it included, but the email I got said no purchase was necessary if I went to the actual store. I walked in and said "It's my birthday and I'd like my free thing, please." I don't normally do that, and I wasn't comfortable doing it then, but I did it anyway. I still feel really tacky, but I got my free thing. Hey...it was a really nice free thing! We also went to Toys R Us and then got groceries, so it was a wild, wild birthday. I'm just glad no one called the cops. :) It even ended on a nice note because I got a special birthday song emailed to me from a friend. I hope to return the favor one day!
As for the annual bad juju, I felt it, but apparently now I'm just passing it along to strangers. We were walking out of one store behind a woman and she ran her cart straight into one of those concrete barriers that they put in front of the entrance so you can't drive your car into the building, I guess. If it had only been that, I wouldn't have thought anything about it, but on our way out of the grocery store we passed someone in a blue car was was trying to back out of a parking space, and the car jumped forward and ended up on the sidewalk! Maybe it wasn't my fault, per se, but we went home after that just in case.
Of course, now that my birthday has passed without mayhem, I'm just waiting for it to catch up with me. If any of you die, get maimed, lose your job, pet, spouse, or home in some kind of bizarre disaster, I apologize in advance.
I need therapy.
2) I just heard something fall over and spill things. I have gone into every room in this house and can't find what it was. It was loud, and honestly I expected to go into the kitchen and find a mess or see my bead boxes overturned, but I can't find what it was. Weirdness. Ghost sounds, y'all! Even the spirits in my house are messy.
3) I saw the sweetest thing last night! I had to pick Steve up from the airport kind of late last night. Let me just say, I love watching people at the airport. I love seeing happy people greet each other! I saw a soldier come home and his mom and dad were so happy to see him, and I saw two people just light up when they picked each other out of the crowd. However, the best and sweetest thing I think I've ever seen was while I was waiting for Steve to get his luggage. There was an elderly man, clearly in his 80s, waiting by one of the dividers. His face lit up and I saw an elderly woman come towards him and he wrapped his arms around her and they just stood there holding each other. I couldn't see her face since her back was to me, but the man reached down and kissed her on the cheek and they just stood there hugging while everyone milled around them. They didn't let go for as long as I stood there. It was so sweet that it made me cry. Crying in an airport makes you look like a lunatic, so I tried not show it. At least it wasn't ugly crying, but I had to take deep breaths and look up towards the ceiling so no one could see my eyes. Literally, it still makes me cry and I don't understand why because it was so, so, so sweet. I didn't mean to watch them, and I kept trying to look away, but they were standing right in front of me. I hope when I'm that old, someone will still be that happy to see me!
4) Did you know that you can drop a bottle of carbonated juice from just around 3 to 5 inches off the ground and it will explode? Yep! You know that fizzy grape juice that as in a wine bottle? Well, I grabbed one off of the bottom shelf and the cap got caught on the shelf above it which caused it to slip out of my hand and the thing just went kablooey all over the aisle. I stood there in a fizzing puddle of juice wondering what happened, because it took me a second to understand that the bottle could possibly break from that tiny distance from my hand to the floor. Luckily a "clean up on aisle 4" guy came over pretty quickly and took care of things. I was so embarrassed. I had to ask for a paper towel to wipe off the bottom of my shoes so I wouldn't track it all over the store. I spent the rest of that trip to the grocery store with my socks filled with juice. Yuck.
5) I made one more round of the house to see if I could find what made that sound and I found it! It wasn't ghosts. It was forks. Our box of plastic utensils fell over in the cupboard. I have no idea how that happened, but I'd rather it be forks than ghosts in my house, thankyouverymuch.
As for the annual bad juju, I felt it, but apparently now I'm just passing it along to strangers. We were walking out of one store behind a woman and she ran her cart straight into one of those concrete barriers that they put in front of the entrance so you can't drive your car into the building, I guess. If it had only been that, I wouldn't have thought anything about it, but on our way out of the grocery store we passed someone in a blue car was was trying to back out of a parking space, and the car jumped forward and ended up on the sidewalk! Maybe it wasn't my fault, per se, but we went home after that just in case.
Of course, now that my birthday has passed without mayhem, I'm just waiting for it to catch up with me. If any of you die, get maimed, lose your job, pet, spouse, or home in some kind of bizarre disaster, I apologize in advance.
I need therapy.
2) I just heard something fall over and spill things. I have gone into every room in this house and can't find what it was. It was loud, and honestly I expected to go into the kitchen and find a mess or see my bead boxes overturned, but I can't find what it was. Weirdness. Ghost sounds, y'all! Even the spirits in my house are messy.
3) I saw the sweetest thing last night! I had to pick Steve up from the airport kind of late last night. Let me just say, I love watching people at the airport. I love seeing happy people greet each other! I saw a soldier come home and his mom and dad were so happy to see him, and I saw two people just light up when they picked each other out of the crowd. However, the best and sweetest thing I think I've ever seen was while I was waiting for Steve to get his luggage. There was an elderly man, clearly in his 80s, waiting by one of the dividers. His face lit up and I saw an elderly woman come towards him and he wrapped his arms around her and they just stood there holding each other. I couldn't see her face since her back was to me, but the man reached down and kissed her on the cheek and they just stood there hugging while everyone milled around them. They didn't let go for as long as I stood there. It was so sweet that it made me cry. Crying in an airport makes you look like a lunatic, so I tried not show it. At least it wasn't ugly crying, but I had to take deep breaths and look up towards the ceiling so no one could see my eyes. Literally, it still makes me cry and I don't understand why because it was so, so, so sweet. I didn't mean to watch them, and I kept trying to look away, but they were standing right in front of me. I hope when I'm that old, someone will still be that happy to see me!
4) Did you know that you can drop a bottle of carbonated juice from just around 3 to 5 inches off the ground and it will explode? Yep! You know that fizzy grape juice that as in a wine bottle? Well, I grabbed one off of the bottom shelf and the cap got caught on the shelf above it which caused it to slip out of my hand and the thing just went kablooey all over the aisle. I stood there in a fizzing puddle of juice wondering what happened, because it took me a second to understand that the bottle could possibly break from that tiny distance from my hand to the floor. Luckily a "clean up on aisle 4" guy came over pretty quickly and took care of things. I was so embarrassed. I had to ask for a paper towel to wipe off the bottom of my shoes so I wouldn't track it all over the store. I spent the rest of that trip to the grocery store with my socks filled with juice. Yuck.
5) I made one more round of the house to see if I could find what made that sound and I found it! It wasn't ghosts. It was forks. Our box of plastic utensils fell over in the cupboard. I have no idea how that happened, but I'd rather it be forks than ghosts in my house, thankyouverymuch.
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