Absolutely no exaggeration or sarcasm HERE!

2010 in Review

2011-01-07T09:11:00.000-07:00

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?

Gave birth. THAT was a doozy. The actual birth part wasn’t so bad, it was mostly the 10 hours of labor leading up to the birth part. I hope I never have to feel that kind of physical pain again EVER.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Um, I guess I didn’t make any resolutions for 2010. I don’t generally do that anyway, because I feel that New Year’s is overrated as far as NEW! BEGINNINGS! I have an ongoing resolution to get healthy, which means losing weight and taking better care of myself, but it’s truly ongoing.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Me! Karen had baby boy numero dos (his name is Finn) and lots of Facebook friends – it seems like every day someone new is pregnant…

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, although my dear friend Jeanne lost her brother in January. He and I had been close friends many years ago, and his death was horribly sad because I loved him and I love her. 

5. What countries did you visit?

Ha. Next question.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?

Less stress brought on by my own personal tendency to freak out. I’m trying to learn to be less high strung.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

April 16 – that’s when my tiny baby was born!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Learning to be a parent to a newborn. It was so much harder than I ever thought it would be, but worth every single screamy, up-all-nighty second.

9. What was your biggest failure?

There has to be something, but nothing HUGE jumps out at me. Maybe a parade of small but fixable failures?

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Not really.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Our new car. We finally have a vehicle that fits everyone AND can fit all the gear it takes for a family of five to go somewhere. I LOVE it.

12. Where did most of your money go?

Probably to baby stuff? Those little boogers are expensive!

13. What did you get really excited about?

Piper! All her little (and BIG) milestones that I get to see every day. The fact that after nearly a year of Chris and my dad working weekends, our basement is almost finished and looks so awesome!

14. What song will always remind you of 2010?

“Break your Heart” by Taio Cruz and Ludacris. Best. Song. Ever.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you: 

– happier or sadder? Happier.

– thinner or fatter? Thinner (what with the not being pregnant anymore), but also probably thinner than the year before as I lost all my pregnancy weight and then some!

– richer or poorer? About the same maybe?

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?

SLEPT. But that can’t be helped. 

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worried. But again, I’m a worrier. And I’ll try to do better this year. 

18. How did you spend Christmas?

We did all the big stuff Christmas Eve, since we had the kids that day, and so Christmas day was pretty chill. I put in earplugs and took a fantastic two hour nap while my mom played with Piper. It was the best day ever.

19. What was your favorite TV program?

There are a few – Psych, Burn Notice, CSI and CSI:NY, the new Sherlock Holmes

20. What were your favorite books of the year?

I seriously read so many books this year that I can’t even tell you. I loved all the new stuff from John Sandford, Stephen White, Sara Paretsky, Faye Kellerman.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?

I love Pink’s new song, Taio Cruz, a few random artists here and there. I’ll tell you who I did NOT like though (and only because I keep seeing him pop up on the ‘best of’ lists) and that’s Kanye West. He may be a musical genius, but he is a total fail as a person, and that taints his music for me.

22. What were your favorite films of the year?

Films, hmm. Don’t know what those are. I can barely get through a tv show…

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I was 34 and I went out to dinner the night BEFORE my birthday, as the night OF my birthday I was checking into the hospital to have a baby the next day.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

I can’t think of a thing. My year was awesome.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?

Let’s see – first half, maternity clothes and sweatpants. Second half, anything that wasn’t sweatpants because I was so sick of them by then. Oh, and baby spit. I hear that slobber is SO 2011.

26. What kept you sane?

My mother, believe it or not. If it weren’t for all of the help she gave me with Piper and keeping my house from falling into a pig sty, I would have struggled even more than I did those first few months. Also, Mandy. I love to talk to her on the phone about any and everything, mostly about kids, but also just to talk to a friend my age on a pretty much daily basis makes me feel less like I’m isolated in babyland. Not that I would change being home with Piper, because I definitely wouldn’t. But sometimes it’s nice to talk to other grown up people. Plus, her advice and generosity are such a blessing.

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.

That I am much stronger than I thought I was and capable of more than I thought I was. The first few months with Piper were hard, because she was struggling to adjust to life on the “outside” and I was struggling to figure out what she needed. Never in my life have I felt more like giving up, and never in my life have I not been able to just give up. If something was too hard, I didn’t have to do it, I just gave up and moved on. But there was no such thing in this situation – I had to stay up with a crying baby all night. I had to figure out by trial and error what the best way to comfort her was. Giving up was simply not an option, and so I realized that I am able to do a lot more than I thought I could. Every day is a different challenge (in a good way, usually) and so I just roll with it. If it’s a hard day or night, I just figure tomorrow will be different. Now I just have to remember to apply that to every aspect of my life and I’ll be golden!

It's all about the wordplay

2010-12-04T14:40:00.000-07:00

So Abby does a lot of writing in school, which I think is a great way for them to learn new words and also to express themselves. She loves to write, and writes some really cute journal entries, which she lets me read.

Her teacher encourages them to spell a word how they think it should be spelled – sounding it out, etc., which is probably a good thing for the teacher’s sanity, otherwise she’d spend all day spelling words for every kid in the class. What it is also good for is comic relief and puzzle solving. Abby brings home papers and I have to read the whole thing and try to translate what it is she’s writing about. I'm great at word puzzles, but sometimes I'm like "whaaaaa....??" Some recent examples:

She was writing a sort of book report/book summary about a girl who stays home sick from school. The first thing that leaps out at me from the page are the words “gast facking.” WHAT? What kind of books are my second grader reading? So I read the entire thing and figure out that the girl stayed home from school even though she wasn’t really sick. She was gast facking. Or, if you speak English, “just faking.”

She wrote a journal entry about things she likes to eat, and said that once she’s done with dinner, she’s going to have “a hagmucis ice crim sanwich.” I obviously got the ice cream sandwich part, but was stumped over “hagmucis” and also, it sounded gross. When I asked her what that meant, she said it was “humungous.”

Her journal entries are super cute – she talks a lot about Piper and how cute she is and how much she loves her. She also wrote this whole entry about how Riley is mean and never nice to her and a lot of very unflattering examples of how Riley is awful, and then finishes it with how Riley is actually not that bad, as sisters go. On the other hand, Riley is currently writing a fictional story where Abby is a total brat, so I feel that as long as it’s only literary retaliation, it’s ok. They get along great 90% of the time, and for that I am hagmucisly thankful.

Come (Shutter)fly with me

2010-11-05T15:05:00.002-06:00

So today I’m spreading the word that Shutterfly has some seriously awesome holiday card designs this year. Before I get into that though, I’ll tell you my experience with them – in a little essay called “Why I love Shutterfly.”

When Chris and I got married (actually, it was our wedding reception in the summer of ’09 vs. our actual wedding day, which was fall of ’08. Anyway) I took our many fabulous pictures and made a photo book. I love to scrapbook, but I know myself and I knew that I would never get around to choosing the pictures I loved, printing them out in various sizes, designing the pages, etc. etc. etc. So instead, I used Shutterfly to make a really beautiful book. I got a few extra copies and gave them to my parents and Chris’ parents as a Christmas gift, and everyone loved them. This is only a sample, but maybe you get the gist.

Which brings me to the holiday cards. I am picky about my holiday cards. I want them to be classy and attractive and not always just red and green. I’m a fan of blue and snowflakes and ornaments and other pretty holiday elements. Especially this year, as I plan to dress the girls in purples and blues for the picture. So below are a couple of my favorites:

And if none of those strike your fancy, there are roughly 745 other designs in all price ranges to choose from. I’m not exaggerating – there are actually 745 other designs.

The other awesome thing that Shutterfly features is perfect for people like my parents who have everything they want and are ridiculously hard to buy presents for. However, THIS year, they have an adorable grandbaby, and I have like ONE MILLION pictures of her, so what better thing to do than make them a calendar featuring their favorite person ever? There are a ton of cute themes for the calendar background, and it’s a great idea to showcase babies or weddings or the year in pictures or travel (Alice, that means you, you world traveler!).

Anyway, the bottom line is that you should check it out. And as a bonus for my blogging friends, if you check out the Shutterfly holiday cards, love what you see, and write a post about it, you can get 50 FREE cards! Yay! So get on that bandwagon and go to this link to learn how to get your cards.

You now have no excuse not to send out cards this year.

Confessions of a blog neglecter

2010-11-03T11:31:00.000-06:00

So ever since I met Chris and it became clear that we were in this for the long haul, I’ve had sort of a hard time blogging. Mostly because all of the sudden my life changed from single Amber to stepmom Amber, and I had all of this ADJUSTING to do. Like having two small children in my life. Like maintaining and enjoying my relationship with Chris. Like moving out of the area where my family and friends lived into a town where I knew NO ONE (which isn’t as horrible as it sounds, because the town is only like 30 minutes away. But still). There were other things too, but those were kind of the major ones.

So now it’s been 4 years since we started dating, and I realized that I should be writing some of this stuff down. I’ve been married for two years, and I have a 6 month old baby in addition to my two sweetie pie stepdaughters. I want to write this down for me, so that I remember what went on, but I also want to write it down for my kids, so that they know that I wasn’t just the rule-setting, house-organizing, fun-ruining mom type. I have another identity in there, I just have to make sure I don’t lose it.

Two years ago I made the decision to be a stay-at-home mom. I had the opportunity to cut my hours at my job and do it from home. It went ok for a while, but due to the fact that my boss was a complete asshole and then he also hired a psychopath to pick up my slack (and really, despite my tendency to exaggerate, these two things are ACTUALLY TRUE), I looked for and found another job. I still work from home, but I work for an organization that is a dream as far as employers go. I’m guaranteed a minimum amount of hours and can work more if I have the desire and time. No real deadlines, no micromanagement – awesome. So I’m blessed in the job department. It was really great when I was pregnant, because since I was sick all of the time, I never had to deal with an office or sick days, and I had the freedom to work whenever I got the chance. It’s also great with a new baby, because I do what I can when I can and I don’t have to worry about whether I should be working instead of playing with my baby.

I love my life. I love my husband, who is so helpful and such a good dad and a hard worker and just all-around terrific. I love my two big girls, who are totally smitten with their baby sister and help me a lot by playing with her while I fix dinner or take a shower. I love my parents, who, speaking of smitten, think my baby is the best thing to ever happen. EVER. My mom comes over twice during the week to play, and she and my dad both come over on the weekends (my dad and Chris are finishing our basement), so I get a break and can run errands or work or whatever.

Again though, it’s an adjustment, because I am a people person and I have a hard time having no one to talk to all day except a baby. Granted, she listens really well, but she’s still lacking on the response front. Apparently that gets better once they’re older. Anyway, I feel a little lonely and isolated sometimes. However, I wouldn’t change a thing, because I am thankful every day that I can stay home with my baby and be home when the kids get back from school, and that I am not stressed out having to work full time and fit in dinners and family time and baby time.

So. I know I’ve probably said this before, but I’m working on writing more on here as an outlet and because it’s always been fun. I suppose I shouldn’t worry about the identity part – that will sort itself out eventually. See, I already feel so much better!

Ode to Pregnancy

2010-01-21T13:58:00.003-07:00

I'm back! Twice in one week - don't get used to it. Anyhow, to answer your questions Alice, YES, I am indeed pregnant, and NO, you didn't really miss anything because I didn't blog at all in 2009.

So, since we're on the subject and all, let's talk about how pregnancy isn't at all what I expected. Actually, I'm not sure what I thought it would be like, but no one ever told me how one day I would be walking around all normal, and the next day I would lose total control of my body for the next 10 months. Isn't pregnancy supposed to be rainbows and magic and puppies and whatever?

Because I'm awesome, the way I found out I was pregnant was because I thought I had a really terrible hangover. I woke up one morning after a "girls night out" and I felt AWFUL. Which was a little surprising, since I hadn't really drank THAT much the night before, but I felt nauseous and had heartburn and just blech. I didn't think much about it, but when the nausea continued and all I wanted to eat were mashed potatoes and gravy, well, I started to get suspicious. Two weeks later, I took a pregnancy test and it was positive. That's when the fun started.

So. THE SYMPTOMS.
Oh, I had morning sickness alright. And afternoon sickness and evening sickness as well. I haven't eaten fish since I got pregnant because the smell is too terrible. For about the first 3 months, Chris either had to cook with me supervising from a distance, or he had to bring something home. Rolling waves of nausea all the time and the fact that I would pretty much throw up whatever I ate made eating a challenge. Allegedly this would stop after the first 12 weeks. HA. It lasted for 5 months - and there are still days when I eat something and then get violently ill later. TMI? Probably. It was actually sort of amusing sometimes (you know, looking back) because many mornings I would lay in bed and just gag. For no reason. I couldn't even talk about food without gagging and PLEASE cats, do not breathe on me with your cat food breath. WHERE ARE THE RAINBOWS?

Also, everyone in the world wears way too much perfume when you're pregnant. Because he's a cowboy, Kid Rock can smell a pig from a mile away, however, since I'm pregnant, I can smell EVERYTHING from a mile away. At least I'm to the point now where I won't start gagging immediately. Usually.

Okay, so we made it past the first trimester, which was good, because I could start to ease up on my constant worrying about miscarrying. It seemed like a month was a really long time to go between doctor's appointments because I had to wait that long to hear the heartbeat and it always made me feel better. Because the worrying was constant. I can already tell I'm going to be THAT parent.

Second trimester rolled around and I started wearing maternity clothes. I pretty much love that. Who doesn't love stretchy waist pants? Although I will say that it has been hard to find reasonably priced maternity tops that aren't FUGLY. Seriously, maternity designers. It's bad enough that your stomach and boobs and various other body parts are changing shape and getting larger by the second - please don't make me wear ugly-ass prints and clingy fabric and unflattering necklines. Luckily Old Navy has good clothes, as does the maternity outlet store by my house. Because I'm at the point now where my long sleeve t shirts barely fit, much less cover my stomach. And I do have to leave the house now and then. I was still pretty barfy until a couple of weeks ago, but it's getting better. At least there's now a less than 50% chance I'll throw up what I ate most of the time.

So. Exit the barfies, enter the heartburn. OH. MY. GOD. THE. PAIN. (Can you tell how great I'm going to be in childbirth if I think heartburn is going to kill me? This is going to be good.) I have never had problems with heartburn, so this is new to me. And because of the nausea, I wasn't about to eat the disgusting chalky Tums - bad going down, probably worse on the return trip. So I drank a lot of milk. Which occasionally helped, but seriously - this was some really wicked heartburn. Finally like 2 weeks ago, my dr. told me I could take Zantac, which has made my life so much better. I try not to take it every day, but it helps a ton. Excuse me, pregnancy? HEARTBURN IS NOT PUPPIES. WHERE ARE THE PUPPIES?

I'm getting to the point now where I can almost not see my feet. And that I have to be careful when cooking not to burn my belly on the stove. My booth-sitting days at restaurants are almost over, and navigating through smallish spaces without knocking something over with my stomach gets trickier all the time. It also makes it difficult to get up from laying down. Being in bed and having to change positions or get up in the night for the millionth time to pee is really difficult. My hips hurt and my back hurts and I need pillows propping me up and supporting me in various places in order to get sort of comfortable. I usually sleep on my stomach, but clearly that's out, so I've had to adjust to sleeping on my side. I actually rarely sleep well, because with all of the flopping around like a fish I do to get OUT of bed, coupled with the squirreling around I have to do to get comfortable when I get back IN bed, well, it wakes a person up. I'M STILL WAITING FOR THE RAINBOWS.

So. Even though all of this sounds horribly negative and it seems like I'm not thrilled to be pregnant, that's not true at all. I am definitely thrilled. I am really excited to meet this little tiny person when she comes out in April. Maybe the puppies and the rainbows aren't showing up, but there is definitely magic. I am amazed at what the human body is capable of - making another human inside. It's crazy. And that that little bundle is capable of controlling how you feel - probably for the rest of your life. We saw on an ultrasound about 2 months ago that we're having a little girl, and everyone is so excited. The girls are so cute and looking forward to a sister. They always pat my stomach and say goodnight to the baby or goodbye when they leave. Abby's head is right about stomach level, so sometimes she gives my stomach a kiss. It's really sweet. And though Chris really wanted a boy, he's happy to have another little girl that will love him SO much, just like his little girls do right now. I'm happy to have a girl, because girls and their moms have special relationships, and it will be fun to have a friend like my mom has me for a friend. Oh, and don't get me started on how funny my mom is about her first grandchild. My parents are really excited.

So yeah. The physical parts of pregnancy aren't always the best, BUT. Once you feel that little person swimming around and kicking in there, it makes all the lame stuff way less lame, and you know for sure that it's TOTALLY going to be worth it in the end.

Because I feel like I should write this stuff down...

2010-01-19T11:44:00.002-07:00

You know, for posterity.

Here are 3 reasons I don't sleep well at night:

1. Chris is the weirdest breather at night. His breathing patterns change constantly - and sometimes scare the crap out of me. Like last night, he was breathing through his nose with this high pitched whistle that made me dream that a baby was crying. He later told me that I punched him and mumbled something he didn't understand. In fact, the way I know he's awake in the night is when he breathes quietly - like a normal person.

2. I have a spoiled cat. Baby Kitty had to go to the vet yesterday for a teeth cleaning, which involved her being put under. Therefore, she couldn't eat anything past midnight the night before. Booger decided at 3:30 a.m. that he was DEFINITELY starving to death. There was no doubt in his mind, and by golly, since he was suffering, WE would also suffer. I'm not kidding when I say he meowed and whined for 3 straight hours. I shut him out of the bedroom, which muffled it, but man. If he wasn't the cutest cat in the world most of the time, I would have done something drastic.

3. Pregnancy prepares you for never sleeping well again. Not only do I have to pee about 47 times a night, even getting to the bathroom is a chore. I have to disentangle myself from the covers (which I'm half in and half out of because I'm usually always HOT), extract myself from the body pillow, hoist my ass out of bed (no small feat, I tell you), and THEN I can walk to the bathroom. Once I get back into bed, it takes quite some time for me to get comfortable again and by this time, either I'm totally awake or I have to pee again. Or both.

I might have more later, but I have to pee. And maybe take a nap to make up for all the time I spend at night not sleeping.

Get up, stand up

2008-11-04T11:19:00.005-07:00

I may have mentioned this before, but I hate politics. I hate politicians and I hate all of the bullshit that goes along with campaigning. That being said, I ALWAYS vote.

To be honest, I probably wouldn’t be much of a voter if my mom didn’t push me so much. She made sure I was registered to vote when I was 18 and all the times when I’m like “mom, I do NOT care about this”, she’s always told me that it’s my right and it’s important. So, every election, I get out my blue book (or find it online) and I research the amendments and I vote. And over time, I’ve realized that it IS important and I actually like to vote.

This election, I still hate politics. I can’t wait for this day to be over so that I can stop hearing and seeing all the dirty campaigning and the underhandedness and the stupidity. I’m totally interested in the outcome, because either way, it’s historic.

The difference with this election is that I actually care about something presented on the ballot – and it’s something that isn’t even on MY ballot – I can’t vote NO on Proposition 8 because it’s a ballot issue in California and obviously I don’t live there.

The reason I care so much about it is because it concerns the rights of someone I love very much. Beth (who’ve I’ve mentioned many times before) has been my friend since we were six years old. She’s been my moral compass, the person I ask advice from, the person I know will always protect my secrets, and the person who knows me the absolute best. She has supported me and loved me through the many MANY questionable decisions I’ve made, and been happy with me for all the great things that have happened. She never fails to send flowers on special days – birthdays, Christmas, even Mother’s Day – and she recently sent me something really special for my wedding. She is certainly one of the most caring and loyal friends anyone could ever ask for.

Seven years ago, our group also gained Merideth, when she and Beth had a lovely commitment ceremony in Sonoma. Meri and Beth complement each other beautifully, whether it be in home repairs or the kitchen or personality. Meri has become a friend, not just because she’s Beth’s wife, but because she is a genuinely cool person who I probably would have picked for a friend anyway. Together, they have a marriage that is a great example of a loving and caring partnership.

In June, California began to allow gay marriage, so after seven years of being “committed” to each other, Beth and Meri were finally able to get legally married. Now, five months later, California wants to revoke their rights. After reading about this issue, I have to say that it’s really the stupidest thing EVER. Seriously, the law makes it so easy for straight couples to get married – in Colorado, you can marry your cousin! If you need a green card, all you have to do is marry someone who’s a citizen, and boom! Citizenship and insurance and everything! Please.

You know what? Gay marriage isn’t going to destroy the (already questionable) moral fabric of the U.S. It's not the beginning of a slippery slope into horribly deviant behavior. If you don’t want to marry someone of the same gender, it’s your decision not to. If you don’t want to be around people of the same gender who are married, well, find new friends. If you want to propagate inequality, maybe you should do that on your own time and not use the Bible and the law to back you up. If you want to teach your children that denying rights to people is ok, I sure hope they grow up to never need that right.

I mean really – look at history – women couldn’t vote, interracial marriages were forbidden, abortion was illegal. All things that were (and still are) frightening and foreign to some people. But instead of accepting the status quo, people fought for their rights. Not to be cliché, but isn’t that what America was founded on? Rights were being denied in England and so people stood up and said no. They kept saying no - no to slavery, no to segregation, no to Hitler and communists and terrorists. No to ignorant people who couldn't look past their own issues and realize that this is about doing what is right and what is humane and what is decent.

So today, I want California to say NO. Say no to bigotry. Say no to fear disguised as legislation. Say no to hateful people claiming to represent God and the church when the truth is, God and the church DO NOT represent them. Say no for your gay friends and family. Say no for Beth and Meri and my aunt and her partner – say no for our kids, who need to be taught that love isn’t something to be ashamed of and that strong, loving marriages should be celebrated and honored.

And to Beth and Meri – it may be small comfort and it may be none at all, but know that I love you both and to me, no matter what, you will always be married and you will always be part of my family.

Trick or Treat or Wine

2008-11-03T08:53:00.003-07:00

I went trick or treating as an adult for the first time on Friday night. Last year we had the kids, but I stayed home and handed out candy while Chris took the girls around.

We went with some friends of ours in their neghborhood, which was way better than staying in our neighborhood. Our neighborhood doesn't have a lot of kids and so I would've been bored and lonely. Plus, it was such a nice night that I was glad I got to wander around.

I will say, Halloween is way different as an adult. Maybe it was just how I grew up, but I was surprised at the number of parents carrying around adult beverages while trick or treating. Of course, Chris and I and our friends were carrying around our cups of hot spiced wine (yum!) but I was still interested to see that we were one of many. Maybe it's because it's a neighborhood with a lot of young parents in their early thirties, who knows.

Anyway, the kids had a great time and made a huge haul, which is really what the day is all about, right? They're already talking about what they're going to go as next year, which I don't take real seriously as I know it's going to change about a billion times. However, here are some pictures of this year's costumes - I made them and it was the first year they'd had homemade costumes.

A monkey

A S'moreGangster Darth Vader - he didn't actually go out like that, he was just trying on the mask...

Identity

2008-10-29T06:11:00.003-06:00

I'm having a hard time posting these days because I'm having a hard time figuring out my blog's identity. I think ideally, I'd like it to be like Sundry's blog - some family stuff and some personal stuff, but always good to read. I fear turning into one of those people whose life revolves solely around their kids and consequently, who have nothing to talk about except for boring everyday kid stuff. Not that being kid-focused is bad, but I want to retain some sense of not taking everything so seriously. Which really, I shouldn't worry about because I don't. But you know, I do like to worry...

Anyway, I've had this blog for nearly four years and I feel like it needs a change. My entire life has changed pretty drastically in the past year or so, so why not embrace that and change things up a little. The page has always looked the same, so I need a new look. And I need to figure out what to talk about and how to best do that. You know, just a few things. I think most importantly, I need to remember that this is where I put things that I want to remember and that I should only be concerned with what I think of it. It's hard to do that in a forum where people comment on what amounts to your journal entries, but I figure if my kids ever felt like reading all this one day, they need an accurate and complete picture of who I am now.

Anyhoo. I'm working on my identity and trying to post more - just to get in the habit of it again. Then by the time I figure everything out, I'll be a posting machine! Ha. Let's not get carried away.

Why having Kids is Handy

2008-10-23T10:58:00.001-06:00

Because I can unashamedly listen to Chris Brown and David Archuleta and LOVE IT, because the girls wanted to listen to it. I can watch Spongebob Squarepants and assorted shows on the Disney Channel and that’s ok, because I’m watching it with the girls. Pizza for dinner? The girls. Spent too much money at Target? The girls.

See? Really handy.

Seven Random Things

2008-10-20T09:21:00.002-06:00

Thanks to Mindee, you guys get a post! I tried to think of seven random things that I haven't already talked about on here in the past three or four years. So here they are - maybe new, maybe variations. And I'm supposed to tag people, but we all know I never do that, so if you feel the need to post seven random things on your own blog, great. If not, post them in the comments. Or don't - it's a free country still, right?

1. I much prefer to eat out of sectioned plates than any other. As they don’t really make non-disposable dishware for ADULTS in that style, I often eat dinner off of two plates and a bowl.

2. I read every night before bed, and inevitably have to get up a minimum of 5 times while reading to pee. It’s totally psychological – I don’t have to go that bad, but I am paranoid that I’ll wake up in the night and have to go and I HATE getting up.

3. The older I get, the more I understand my mother. Because no matter how hard I try, I’m totally turning into her.

4. I am not the least bit afraid of any bug (with the exception of poisonous ones, but that’s just being smart). Big, small, whatever, I am totally fine with it. But the tiniest snake will make me completely freak out and feel like I’m going to faint.

5. When I was little, I could never go to bed without saying “I love you” to my parents. In case they died before the morning. That was my morbid little kid reasoning, for real.

6. For all of the falls and injuries I’ve sustained in my lifetime, the first time I ever broke a bone was on my 30th birthday. I think we all remember the boot and how awesome it turned out to be.

7. I have had 16 jobs in 16 years.

Along this same line (and since I'm using other people for inspiration - this one is courtesy of Cheryl) if you have any questions you'd like me to answer, post those in the comments as well.

Ch-ch-Changes

2008-09-24T09:36:00.001-06:00

Ok, so I know I haven’t written in over a month. My excuse is that I’ve been busy, but one of the real reasons is that I felt like I didn’t have much to say. Everyday life ceased to be interesting, and that’s when I realized something was wrong. Since when could I not find humor in the mundane?

I’ll tell you since when – since I became overwhelmed with everything.

My job title is “marketing coordinator”, but what I really do is herd cats. I have to wrangle a bunch of men, many who are arrogant and have no clue how to manage people – I have to get them to meet my deadlines so that I can meet theirs, and I have to do this while maintaining a good attitude, hiding my frustration and stress (because like skittish animals, it freaks them out if you show fear) and generally hap-hap-happying through my day.

I didn’t notice it at first, but I was losing the happy. Work was making me lose sleep and feel sick with dread in the mornings. I couldn’t not show my stress and frustration, and as predicted, the guys didn’t know how to handle that. On top of that, my boss left the company and I was unbelievably bummed about that, especially since I didn’t really like the new guy.

At home, I was also flailing. The planning and patience and organization it takes to parent the children was suffering. Every evening was a rush to pack in sports practice, violin practice, homework, dinner and oh yeah, maybe some down time to chill before everyone gets herded off to bed so they can wake up early and we can start all over.

I started to feel about my job like I felt almost 3 years ago when I had a total breakdown. I told Chris that not only could my mental health not take another episode like that, but that now it would affect him and the kids and that just wasn’t going to work.

We talked about it, and came up with a solution. I would cut down my hours to half time and then work mostly from home. I could stay home with Abby until she goes to afternoon kindergarten and be home when she and Riley got home in the afternoon. No more day care costs, which essentially take up ¼ of my paycheck. No more having to rush home to make dinner, no more piles of clean but unfolded laundry, no more trying to get homework done in the short time between getting home from work and bedtime. No more worrying about who would take a day off to stay home with a sick kid or saying no to going on field trips because no one can take off work.

I talked to the big boss at work, who was really understanding. He saw that I had been struggling and he understood that trying to do it all is hard – especially since I am still fairly new to the whole parent gig. He told me he wanted me to be happy and we’d work it out. And we have. I will work 20-30 hours a week, mainly from home. I can come into the office for a couple of hours in the afternoon while Abby is at school, and because I have other mom friends who stay home and since my own mom doesn’t work, if there is an emergency, I have backup.

Right now, we’re in the process of finding someone to take over my other hours. This is a good thing, because I was basically handling a lot more than I could, well, handle. Once we find that person, I will set up my office and start working at home. I gave the company until the end of the year to find someone so that we’re not in limbo forever, and so I’m patiently waiting until that happens.

In the meantime, I’m slowly finding the happy again. Chris is the best – he’s so supportive and loves me so much and makes my life so much better just by being around. And I’m feeling better because there’s a light at the end of the tunnel – I can look at the chaos of our house and our lives and know that I’m doing the best I can right now, and that it won’t be like this indefinitely. It’s so comforting.

So. That’s it – the beginning of the next chapter. Let the bedazzling begin!

Just kidding.

I know who my friends are

2008-08-22T10:28:00.002-06:00

I’m blessed to have the best friends ever. There’s nothing cooler than having people in your life who you’ve known forever and better yet, who’ve known you forever. The best example of this is Beth – we were inseparable as kids – from about 1st grade until 9th grade. And now, even though she lives far away, I talk to her more than I talk to anyone else – it’s the magic of email. I am so thankful for her – for a lot of reasons, but one of which is that I can tell her the things I would be horrified if anyone else knew I even THOUGHT them, and she never judges me. Plus, she makes me laugh.

I’m thankful for ALL my girls from high school – it’s so fun watching the people who you grew up with have babies and get married. Surreal, sometimes, but fun, especially when I think back to our escapades in younger days.

I’m thankful for the wide circle of friends I have – I have the youth group kids who treat me like I’m one of them, and who I can completely let down with.

I have my soccer mom friends – three moms from Abby’s soccer team that knew each other already but who were fun and we hung out on the sidelines laughing and making fun of our children learning to play soccer. We went out to dinner the other night and drank a ton of wine and laughed our asses off – it was so fun. We put the kids back on the same team for fall season because we wanted to hang out again.

My work friends – we made a four square court in the parking lot behind our building and a bunch of us played four square all lunch hour yesterday and laughed and laughed. There's a group of us that hang out quite a bit, and we just went camping two weekends in a row and had the best time.

My fellow adult leaders on the youth group trips – it’s funny how you can meet someone for the first time one day, and a week later, it’s like you’ve known each other forever. All of the adult leaders at camp did a skit where we worked in an ice cream shop and three people came in and ordered shakes, but our blender was broken. So all of the “workers” took marshmallows and bananas and chocolate and chewed them up or melted ice cream in our mouths and spit it all into cups. Then the three “customers” drank the shakes. The kids freaked – they totally did not think they’d actually drink it. I get to see them once a year, sometimes more, but it’s as if no time has passed in between. They’re so much fun.

I have Sally and Nancy and Anita – my three extra moms who are helping me figure out logistics for our wedding – they all live next door to each other and have been friends forever and they take excellent care of me. They’re a perfect example of how friendships can weather a lot of storms and how no matter what happens, you always have your girls – they truly value each other and make time for each other and it’s really cool.

So yeah. I couldn't ask for better people in my life.

I couldn't possibly fit it all into one post

2008-08-22T10:23:00.005-06:00

I have had the busiest week and work and maybe like the worst two weeks or so at my job since I started working here. So I haven’t had a lot of time to write, and even though I recently got internet at home, half the time I can’t even muster up the mental energy to get online.

Anyhoo, that’s neither here nor there. I was thinking today about how much I have – like the ridiculous amount of blessings in my life. I have awesome parents who not only love me, but love Chris and especially the girls. A perfect example of this was a few weeks ago when we needed my parents to babysit for us on a Friday night. My mom was like, “sorry, we’re leaving for Breckenridge on Friday afternoon”. So whatever, I started looking for someone else (which is difficult because I’m very picky about who I’ll leave the girls with) and then my mom called me back “Um, your dad was mad that we couldn’t watch the girls on Friday, so he was wondering if we could take them to Breckenridge with us.” Hmmm. Let me think ab- OKAY! So they took them with them, and Chris and I went up there Saturday and we all stayed another night and had a great time.

I was always afraid that because I didn’t get married earlier that my parents would never get the chance to enjoy grandkids or that my kids wouldn’t understand what amazing grandparents I KNEW my parents would be. So having the girls in our lives is a gift all around – of course I love them, in fact, I love them as if they were really mine - and I love them even more because I get to see how happy being grandparents makes my mom and dad. And they’re a gift to my parents, because they love little kids and my mom was just dying for little girls to play with like when I was little and my dad couldn’t wait to read them all of he and I’s favorite books from my childhood. So awesome.

I’m blessed to have Chris – he is the best (future) husband I could have possibly asked for. My mom told me about a conversation she and my dad had with this couple who has been like our grandparents – they’re in their 90s and very crotchety. Anyway, they asked my parents “what makes you think Chris is a good mate for Amber” and my dad said “well, he has a good job, he owns his own house and you can tell that he really loves Amber – he always kisses or hugs her.” Which is true – he’s always affectionate with me, but not in a space-invading way. He tells me he loves me and he does stuff so that I know he does. Like every morning he makes my coffee the way I like it and sits it on the counter in my travel mug so it’s ready when I leave for work. And besides that, we have so much fun together – laughing and talking all the time. It’s true that he’s my best friend, because we talk about everything. I really like being around him – we love each other, but we also totally enjoy each other’s company.

I'm blessed to be friends with my brother now that we're older. He's fun to be around and really funny and gifted and he sends me text messages to tell me he loves me. The age difference was hard when we were younger, but now we're allies in the parental fights and he can hang out at my house with Chris and I and drink a beer and talk. It's so weird to see him grow up, but I'm so glad that I was as old as I was when he was born because I'm able to remember his entire life.

So that's part one - blessings, the family edition.

Sad excuse for an entry

2008-07-29T16:04:00.002-06:00

Things I’ve been doing instead of writing on my blog:

Freaking out about the overwhelming task of planning a wedding. Asking myself why we didn’t just go to Vegas. Anyone want to plan my wedding? Ha ha, just kidding. Unless you do, in which case, send me an email.

Visiting Karen and John’s ADORABLE new baby. I imagine they’re probably sick of me by now, because the child has only been alive for a little over a week and I’ve been to visit him 4 or 5 times. They’re just lucky I live 30 minutes from them now instead of 7 (like I used to) or else they’d be REALLY sick of me. I can’t help it – he’s just so precious and they are the cutest parents.

(Along those same lines, I’ve been hit by the surreal feelings of being caught between being an adult and being a kid. On the trips with the youth group to Nebraska and Montana, I especially feel it. I honestly forget that I’m an adult, because the kids treat me like I’m their age. Then I come home and I’m watching my friend have contractions and then holding this little person who we’ve been waiting so long to meet and I realize that I’m not a kid anymore. Or I go up to my parents’ condo in the mountains with Chris and the girls and I realize that the stuff we’ve said for years about me coming here with my kids is suddenly true – my mom and dad are the grandparents now and I’m the parent. SO WEIRD. And also end of ridiculously long parenthetical aside.)

Coming to the realization that in my cell phone, my parents’ number is under “Home” and that now that Chris and I finally got a land line at our house, I have to change it. Even when I had my condo, my parents’ house was still home (seriously, why would I call my condo when I’m the only one living there) – and now, I have a new home. I know, I’m weird, but I just think of stupid stuff like that and it adds to my realization that all these “child to adult” changes just KEEP HAPPENING.

Reading. NERD ALERT. Want to hear something crazy? In the past five weeks, I have read 15 books. That turns out to be 6,554 pages. Between the road trips and the free time and the evenings, I’ve been a reading machine. I’ve read everything from the newest Janet Evanovich, to Jodi Picoult (who I recently discovered and really like) to classics from the high school reading lists (because that’s what happens when you run out of books and have to borrow from teenagers) to the hottest books since Harry Potter (the Twilight series), to my usual murder and intrigue books. Seriously, we’re like at a Level 14 hojillion on the Nerd Threat scale here.

Anyway, that's the lame-ass update. In related news, I also got internet at home (finally) so that I can surf and post in a blocked-by-work-free zone. That means I can maybe post more than oh, say once a month.

In other wedding news, maybe you are the person who wants to come up with a beautiful design for our wedding website. I'm about as good understanding HTML as I am understanding mandarin chinese, but I can do basic stuff. I've looked at various sites and they're just not what I want. So ideas would be welcomed!

Trippin'

2008-06-30T14:05:00.002-06:00

So I’m back from trip numero uno. We went to Nebraska to do work on a camp there, which was fine.

What was NOT fine was that the crazy-ass counselors there insisted on treating us like we were part of their camp – which we weren’t. Because we are adults and high school kids, we have no interest in your stupid made up prayers to songs like the Superman theme that you make the 3rd through 5th grade campers sing. Our boys are STARVING after slaving out in the woods over stuff you don’t get to, and so maybe you could make it a little easier for them to get larger portions, instead of telling them no and/or looking like we just asked if you would eat your own arm if we asked for more of something. Gah. They were horrible and if one of them would have said anything to me, I would have flipped on him. Because that’s what Jesus would have done, I’m certain of it.

What else was not fine, you might ask? The MOSQUITOES. Holy crap, I have never seen so many mosquitoes in my life. It wasn’t like “Oh – a mosquito. I will swat you and your nearby brethren and fend you off with bug spray.” It was like “OH MY GOD – THEY ARE ALL OVER YOUR BACK!!!” and then you sprayed the other person like their life depended on it. Oh, and if the spray had any less than 25% DEET in it? The mosquitoes were like “This certainly is a delicious flavor this human has added to their delectable skin”. Freaky ass mosquitoes. By the end of three days we had gone through probably 10 bottles of bug spray and yet we were all covered with bites – I wore jeans the whole time and they bit me through my jeans. I had like 12 bites on my face alone, which, coupled with the eyebrow twitch I developed (DEET poisoning, probably) made me look like Woogie from “There’s Something About Mary”.

A goat bit my finger. I got locked in a gas station bathroom. The humidity was such that standing still in the shade, I was still pouring sweat. The food was so bad that I told the cooks that I was vegetarian so that I didn’t have to eat any of the prison-grade meat they were serving. I am so bruised that it looks like I got in a fight. I kind of did - you should see the other guys - they're now MULCH (see below for explanation). HA!!

And yet? SO MUCH FUN!!! The crappy stuff isn’t actually that crappy, because it’s all part of the adventure. And since everyone is going through it, it turns out to be funny. I learned how to not only run, but fix an industrial wood chipper. I turned dead trees into mulch for three days, along with my trusty sidekick Katie – we had earplugs in and so we got to where we could communicate effectively solely with looks. There was a barn there with assorted animals, including a motherless baby goat who needed to be bottle fed. I fed him and he was SO ADORABLE with his little milk mustache – he would run up to you and wag his tail and want you to pet him and pick him up. It was the adult goat who bit me – I was petting it and it was sweetly licking my hand before it chomped down on my finger, breaking the skin and making me yell (in my head) “Aaaaagggghhhhh!! Goat Cooties!” And the guy who ran the camp was so nice and so patient and so appreciative of all the work that we did, so it totally made up for the jackassery of the counselors. Besides Katie and I’s owning of the chipper, the rest of the group used a log splitter to cut logs, mowed a lot of high grass, dug holes, weed whacked, spread mulch on the trails, carved out steps in the side of the mountain down to a little amphitheater and basically pitched in to do whatever would help the rest of the group. My kids are so awesome.

After we left the camp on Thursday morning, we went west to Sparks, NE where we stayed at Dryland Aquatics. Thankfully, there were many less mosquitoes there. We spent Friday tubing down the Niobrara River on these giant tubes that were like having your own individual raft. We went on the six hour float, and 90 minutes in, it started pouring rain. We were prepared to be miserable for four more hours, but luckily the sun came out and we had the best time for the rest of the day.

I guess it’s hard to impart how amazing these trips are. We just have a great time, and for a week, nothing at home seems to matter. The kids leave their cell phones at home and everyone is focused on what we’re doing. People are always saying how great it is that I give up my vacation time to do this, but really? I’m not giving up anything. Not be a cheeseball, but what I get from going is way better than anyone can imagine. You just have to be there.

Next stop? Montana. I leave Sunday morning.

Oops! Has it been three weeks already?

2008-06-01T19:42:00.002-06:00

Heh. *Awkward silence*Um, hello again. I have now become that person who updates my blog once a month, and for that I apologize. Again. *Shuffles feet*.

I can't say though that I'll be any better this month, and here's why. Chris and I get a week to ourselves starting tomorrow, and then the deluge of STUFF! TO! DO! happens. Pretty much Chris' entire family is coming out to stay at our house for a week. That means we will have 6 extra people here in addition to the four of us. Which of course I want his family to visit, but that's just a lot of people in one place for sort of a lot of days.

Then three days after they go home, I leave for Nebraska for our mission trip. Gone for a week, home for a week, leave for Montana and gone for another week.

I just thought I'd let you know so you could, you know, plan your schedule accordingly.

In other news, I fought the rocks and the rocks won. We never did get to moving the rocks for the vegetable garden, but I am consoling myself with the thought that a) I don't have to re-landscape the entire yard THIS YEAR and also b) my first project (our front flower box) looks awesome and so the rocks didn't entirely win.

Guess what? I am REALLY GOOD at the Hannah Montana game on Wii. Chris bought it for Riley, and so I watched her play it on Friday night. Then Saturday I played and secretly? It is totally fun. And also secretly, my arms are sore today because of all the flailing with the remote. It's like Dance Dance Revolution with only your arms. And I am apparently completely out of shape.

My totally awesome boss is leaving our company and when he told me, I burst into tears. He was totally not expecting that and wasn't quite sure what to do. Because there's no crying in construction!

Anyway, that's all for now. Nothing interesting really, but you know, I like to let you know I'm still here. Skulking around your blogs and trying to think of something witty to write. Failing dismally, but at least THINKING about it...

Stuff I could've written about

2008-05-12T13:56:00.001-06:00

Oh, hello there! It’s been a while since we talked, but you know how things get. I’m busy doing mundane everyday things that don’t lend themselves to interesting blogs. The following are titles of entries I could’ve written the past couple of weeks:

“Snuggling and reading is usually a good way to help a 5 year old go to sleep”
“Please just go to sleep because I know that despite your assurances to the contrary, you are tired”
“Hey! Bedtime comes at the same time every night! Can we make it less like a pencil in the eye and more like a simple routine?”
“Have I mentioned how much I wish you would just go to sleep?”
“Mommy is in bed now and you should be too. No, I am not coming up there AGAIN”

Or maybe:
“Dear ex-wife: you are going to have to deal with me FOREVER so you should probably be nicer to Chris about it”
“Dear ex-wife: you left for 9 weeks and magically, everyone else’s lives also continued so it is too bad if you thought that everything would fall apart while you were gone and the opposite happened”
“Dear ex-wife: Stop SAYING you’re the parent and start ACTING like the parent”
“Dear ex-wife: being a total bitch all the time helps no one”
“Dear ex-wife: Of course you can bring the children over to our house for the week a day early. But perhaps not at midnight and perhaps next time you could also bring their necessities like school uniforms and contacts”
“Dear ex-wife: Seriously, get a grip. Also, you have no idea who you’re dealing with. I’m just biding my time before I let you know”
“Dear ex-wife’s new boyfriend: Eeek. Good luck you sorry son of a bitch”

Perhaps:
“I think I’d like to have more flowers and less rocks in our yard so let’s make that happen”
“Wow, there are more rocks here than I at first thought”
“Dear god, the rocks”
“I think the flower garden will be lovely and I am ready to start clearing rocks for the vegetable garden”
“I am afraid to look at the area we picked for the vegetable garden because I know there is a daunting amount of – wait for it – rocks out there”
“Does it seem like there are more rocks over there than there were yesterday?”
“Dear god, the rocks: Part II”

So yeah. That’s about the extent of it. See all the potentially FASCINATING reading you could have had?

What might have been

2008-04-26T09:35:00.000-06:00

Boyfriend 1 – If we would have gotten married, that would have been a total train wreck. We were only 20, and the only reason I said yes when you asked me was because I had just spent a few months living back at home with my parents and I wanted to GET OUT OF THERE! I had just changed colleges, and I had no friends yet. You were a nice guy and you treated me really well – you had a romantic side that lent itself to grand gestures – like the time you were Pledgemaster for your fraternity and you made the pledges drive from Ft. Collins to my house and sing to me on my front steps. Awesome. I don’t think you would have fit in very well with my family though. We’re all pretty loud and outgoing and you were quiet – even though you and my dad were both engineers, you never had much to talk about, which is weird because my dad can talk to anyone. Anyway, you were a great starter boyfriend – thanks for that.

Boyfriend 2 – You were great from Day 1. I met you at a party and we had mutual friends, so we ended up hanging out. Weirdly, I had just moved from Ft. Collins and you had just moved from my town to Ft. Collins. We did the long distance thing for a while, and it worked out fine, and then you came back to Denver and started back at the college I went to. You were an amazing athlete, and I learned how to ski, mountain bike and rollerblade while we were together. You were funny and silly and totally hot. You were great with kids and you even won over P, who is not that easy to win over. My mom LOVED you, which also rarely happens. However, I would have spent our life together walking all over you and you would have been too afraid to tell me you were unhappy – kind of like when we broke up and I basically had to make you say it. I probably also would have maybe cheated on you, just because it was something more interesting to do than get my way all the time. From what I hear about the girl you married, it’s probably just like that (minus the cheating), but that’s what you’re comfortable with. I know you’re probably a great dad and I’m really glad that you’re happy.

Boyfriend 3 – Wow, that would have been HORRIBLE. I loved you a lot (and I know you loved me even more) but I would have never trusted you completely. You were the kind of guy who women openly ogled when we walked by – you were the guy that dressed nicely and looked excellent in everything you wore. You treated me like a queen and you hammered into my head that I should never let anyone treat me as less than that. You were generous and fun, and we had a lot of cool adventures. But as I got older, I would have resented your jealous streak, and been mad about how much time you spent with “the boys”. Actually, we stayed together a year longer than we should have – but the four years we were together taught me more about who I wanted to spend my life with than any other relationship. Thank you for giving me confidence and strength and for making sure that I understood that I deserved the very best and to never settle for anything less than just that. I will always be grateful for you.

Not Boyfriend – Well, to write this, all we have to do is go back in the blog archives a couple of years and see how wrong you were for me. Not for any other reason than you were so damaged by your divorce that you couldn’t see past your pain into the future. Well, that and also the fact you had no clue what you wanted to do with your life. You talked college, since you had dropped out. Which I encouraged, but I knew then that we wouldn’t end up together because I didn’t want to be with someone who was still in the drifting phase of their life. I needed more stability than that, and you just weren’t at that place. Other places you were not at included every other place you would need to be in order to have a healthy relationship. The funny thing is that you were exactly what I needed – you taught me how to be understanding and patient with someone who had been hurt by a divorce. When I heard that Chris was divorced, I almost wrote him off because I didn’t want to repeat YOU. But I didn’t, and I’m so thankful that I took that leap. The funny thing is, we were still talking and hanging out when I met Chris, but the day he and I started dating, I stopped hearing from you. It’s like you disappeared, and honestly, if I hadn’t known you since we were kids, I would think maybe you were a dream or something. Thanks though. Thanks for teaching me what I needed to know.

Wedding Post 1 of 8...hojillion

2008-04-18T15:58:00.000-06:00

Oh boy. Now you’re in for it. WEDDING TALK. I apologize for starting to talk about it so long in advance, but I can’t seem to help myself. Because it’s a WEDDING! And it’s MY WEDDING! And this time I’m going to actually get married and not just wear the ring for six months and then give it back after succumbing to all of the sense that people kept trying to talk into me!

Yes, as a sidebar, I may have mentioned that I was engaged before – when I was 20. My parents were not excited. My friends were not excited. Every single adult in my life hammered me with reasons I shouldn’t be getting married. When I drunkenly kissed one of my fiance’s fraternity brothers at a party one night, I realized maybe all the adults might have a point about the not getting married thing. So I broke it off. And have never regretted it. I’d be divorced by now, mostly because he had the personality of a pine tree and I’m not sure what I saw in him in the first place, but whatever. He was a nice guy and we actually kept in touch for a couple of years after we broke up. I heard he got married a few years ago (to the girl he dated before me – what?) and I’m glad that he’s happy.

I’M happy! We’ve picked the date (4th of July 2009), the venue (backyard wedding!), size (small) and our bridesmaids and groomsmen. Plus, I’m marrying the best guy ever, and everyone is on board, including the children. They could care less about the marrying part, the more important question is whether they will get to wear pretty dresses. Which of course they will.

Here’s where Chris gets freaked out – my bridesmaids bought their dresses before he even proposed. Ha. It’s true. But here’s why:

I’m a girl. We spend a good part of our lives thinking about our perfect wedding, hashing out details that will most likely change with taste and age and time. However, there are some things that don’t change. One of those things, for me at least, was my bridesmaids. I have had the same four best friends since high school, and they have always been the only ones I wanted in my wedding. Whenever one of us gets engaged, it’s a given that the other four will be bridesmaids. Chris and I picked out the date for the wedding a few months ago, the official proposal just hadn’t happened yet. So it wasn’t like I was TOTALLY jumping the gun.

Plus, I sort of had help. Once we picked July 4th, my little OCD brain was like “Colors! Red white and blue!” but the sensible side was like “Oh for pete’s sake. We’re not having a patriotic themed wedding.” So I emailed Beth to talk me off that ledge. We’ve been friends for 26 years – she knows how to deal with me. She suggested just using red, and then once we agreed to that, she got excited and started sending me bridesmaid dress suggestions. I thought about it for a few weeks, and then a week ago, Beth and I got serious about dress selection. We decided on black and white print dresses with red accents. So we picked out a bunch (no traditional bridesmaid dresses – strictly cocktail dresses) and narrowed the field to three. Sent the three to Kendra, Karen and Becki, and they picked their favorite. Once we settled on the dress everyone liked, within 20 minutes, they had all bought their dresses. My friends are the best!

I know there’s a year to go, but anyone who knows me knows I love a plan, plus there’s a lot to think about. Luckily, I have a ton of people who are excited as well and who are creative and awesome, so it should be fun. Because if it’s not fun, that totally defeats the purpose.

Married, you guys. I’m getting MARRIED. I still kind of can’t believe it.

No big news here...

2008-04-14T15:47:00.005-06:00

So. How was everyone’s weekend? Did you have good weather? Did you enjoy the time off work? Did you get engaged?

BECAUSE I TOTALLY DID!

Chris did it just right - one knee, in our house with just us there. The ring is so much more shinier and sparklier and diamondier in real life - the pictures don't do it justice...Yay! We're getting married next summer!

Oops, where did that bottle of red wine go?

2008-04-07T20:55:00.002-06:00

So. My company (hereafter known as "the MAN") has installed a fancy new firewall that blocks me from, well, pretty much everything. Including blogs - anything categorized as "social networking." Bah. The MAN has benevolently granted us 90 minutes of "quota time" every day, which is better than nothing I suppose but I feel all pressured to read fast and comment fast and post fast. Because we're only allowed to have quota time in 10 minute increments. Gah! Faster! Your time is almost up!

So. Right now I'm posting from home - I made Chris bring his laptop home so I'd have internet and could post. Only I had to go to Abby's soccer game. Then I had to make some dinner - just for Chris and I because the girls are with their grandparents - and then I had to surf around facebook because I just got on today (during quota time - it sounds like nap time, doesn't it?) and THEN by the time I was done with all that, I'd had three glasses of red wine. So instead of something good, you get this.

Um, let's see. We went and saw Bon Jovi last week - THAT was awesome. They've still got it after 25 years in the biz - and while Richie Sambora may or may not have alcohol issues, what he does have are some bad ass guitar skillz.

Chris likes to watch the military channel, and ohmygod, it is so boring. It's on right now and he's like "honey, look at this!" and then he starts talking about something military related that's on t.v. and all I can hear is blah blah blah.

Did I mention I've been drinking? We aren't really red wine drinkers, but since Chris recently found out that his cholesterol is like in the stratosphere and that red wine can help that, well, we decided to try drinking it on a regular basis. Historically, I'm not a red wine drinker, but in a show of support, I got on board. I keep telling him that just one or two glasses can help his cholesterol and we don't have to drink it a bottle at a time, but somehow it happens anyway. And then I succumb to peer pressure - I can't let him drink alone, right? Before anyone starts staging an intervention, let me just say that this is the first time we've drank any wine in like a week, so it's not like it's every night. You know, for the record.

Alright. I've taken up enough of your time with a totally worthless post. See what happens when I get performance anxiety? I've been putting off writing a good post because I felt like I couldn't dedicate the time (Quota time! Ten minutes! Here comes the MAN!) and then when I could actually put some time into it, you get the blog equivalent to a drunk dial. I'm a great friend.

What? The bottle of wine is gone? That's ok...I love you man.

Partaaaay

2008-03-31T10:30:00.005-06:00

So I hosted my first ever kid's birthday party on Saturday. Abby turns 5 this week, and since her mom was going to be home just for the weekend (from her 7 weeks of training out of town) we had the party on Saturday. Jane (Chris' ex) told him last month that we needed to plan Abby's party since she was going to be out of town. She said Abby wanted a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party, and it would ONLY cost $150. ONLY. I immediately nixed that, because a) I hate that place and b) why can't we just have a party at our house? She's 5 - I don't think she cares where the party is, as long as it's happening.

I looked up some ideas on the internet (oh internets how I love you and your awesome party ideas) and came up with a "Littlest Pet Shop" party, because Abby loves LPS. As I suspected, when I asked Abby if she would like to have a LPS party at our house, she was totally on board and could've cared less about the expensive pizza place. Because she's 5.

When I told Jane we'd be having the party at our house because we thought we'd rather spend the money on a new bike for the birthday girl, she scoffed (to Chris) that that was fine but we wouldn't be saving any money. She obviously doesn't know me very well.

I ordered a LPS party pack from a party supply store - for $35 I got invitations, thank you notes, tablecloth, centerpiece, 18 balloons and matching ribbon, streamers, plates, cups, napkins and plastic utensils. I got a bunch of colored gift bags from Target for party favors, and after hitting the dollar bins, put in silly putty, a yo-yo and bubbles. I also made "puppy chow" for the bags, which is Chex covered with chocolate, peanut butter and powdered sugar. I labeled the bags with the kids' names (which I printed at work) and called it good.

Notice the cardboard dog house by the fireplace

Riley helped me think of games for the kids to play that were pet themed, and so we came up with musical lily pads (the hopping like frogs was AWESOME), pin the tail on the monkey, toss the beanbag doggie into his house, cat cat mouse (like duck duck goose), and hot doggie (istead of hot potato). I made a giant LPS monkey and mounted it on foam core, created a dog house out of boxes from work, and cut lily pads out of flourescent posterboard. I did no actual work on Friday - I was too busy making a huge monkey and constructing a cardboard dog house.

Saturday morning, I frosted the cake I had made on Thursday, and decorated it with LPS figures and sprinkles. Chris took the balloons to get heliumed up, and moved our furniture around to make room for seven 5 year olds to run around.

I was REALLY proud of this cake

I won't bore you with more details, but suffice it to say, the kids had a blast. In order to avoid any potential meltdowns if they didn't win at a game, I had about 8 hojillion animal stickers that EVERYONE got after a game. After the first game, no one cared if they won - they were too busy deciding which sticker they wanted.

Look at my little punkin - she's so happy to be the birthday girl!Abby's mom sat and watched the whole time - didn't offer to help or anything - which I thought was kind of weird. Then again, she's at a party for her kid that she had no input into at the house she used to live in. That in itself was probably weird. Her parents were there too, and they were so gracious - her mom hugged me and told me what a great job I did and said she'd email me the pictures she took. And her dad just hung out with Chris the whole time. They love him.

The thing that baffled me was that in all of Riley's 8 years and Abby's 5, this was the first at-home party they'd ever had. I remember most of my parties, and the only time we went somewhere was to go to the pool, but then we always came back for cake (that my mom baked). Beth and I were discussing it the other day, and she never had anything but home parties either - we were remembering all the years of movies rented and homemade cakes and backyard obstacle courses and sleepovers and board games.

My mom said she didn't have parties as a kid, so she wanted to have fun parties for us when we were little. My reasoning is that I grew up with fun and creative parties, so I want to do that for my kids as well.

So tell me - did you grow up with home birthday parties or location parties? Inquiring minds want to know...

Death rides a scooter, apparently

2008-03-28T08:51:00.002-06:00

I'll bet you wanted an update on the dead guy in the yard, didn't you? Ok! I'm just going to say up front that while I sympathize with his family, I think he's an idiot and maybe could be the recipient of one of those Darwin awards? Here's why - we get our little town newspaper twice a week, and Chris found the article about the dead guy in the yard. As it turns out, I reported a few inaccuracies, which I will now remedy. One, he wasn't in his 20s, he was actually 45. Old enough to know better than to ride around helmetless. And wearing socks with sandals - not appropriate riding gear and as a matter of fact not appropriate ever. Two, he wasn't riding a crotch rocket, he was riding a scooter. A SCOOTER. The article said he "failed to navigate a turn", which, ok, but what turn? We live on a hill that curves, but by no stretch is it a "turn". After the failed turn navigating, he fell off the scooter and hit his face on the bumper of a parked car (the one in the neighbor's driveway) and died.

I was wondering if in the scheme of things, there is a less graceful way to go out than losing control of A SCOOTER on a SLIGHT CURVE in a NEIGHBORHOOD and hitting a PARKED CAR with your head. The article mentioned that it was unknown whether there were drugs or alcohol involved. I realize I'm no medical examiner, nevertheless I'm going to say there probably were. Otherwise, he's just a sober idiot who can't drive A SCOOTER. I'm sorry, I kind of just want to laugh. Maybe I'm heartless and unfeeling, but really. A SCOOTER?

Death comes to the front yard

2008-03-25T15:02:00.002-06:00

So. Did everyone have a Happy Easter? Did the bunny come to your house with delicious treats? Did you accidentally go to the grocery store to get stuff for "Bunny" to "deliver" a week or so too early and then eat the entire bag of malted milk eggs before it was actaully easter? Ha ha. Me neither. Did you have a delicious lunch and spend time with your family? Did some guy die on your front lawn on Saturday?

I bet that that last one totally did not happen to you guys. But it totally DID happen to us. I wish I were kidding.

I was merrily painting up a storm Saturday afternoon - I was on my third of four walls, and determined to finish all four before I took a break, otherwise I would never go back. The house was quiet - Chris was downstairs playing video games, Abby was asleep in the "fort" the girls had made, and Riley was keeping me company while I painted. I heard sirens, but kind of ignored them, as we live next to a major street and also near the fire station. They seemed to be getting closer...yep, hey! That fire truck just parked in front of our house!

Chris yells up to me "Some guy just died in our yard" and I was like "Ha ha, shut up!" because OF COURSE he had to be exaggerating. I went downstairs and saw him going out the front door, so I peeked out and saw that an ambulance had joined the fire truck. I grabbed a coat and followed him out front, telling Riley that under no circumstances was she to come outside. I walked over and stood next to Chris, and would you believe it? There is a guy laying in our side yard (not the main one directly infront of the house thank god, but the one on the other side of our driveway), his crotch rocket motorbike laying about a foot away from Chris' car in our driveway. By the time I got there, the paramedics were shaking their heads and looking at each other like "I think we're done here". I looked at Chris and was like "He looks dead". The paramedics agreed - they got out the white sheet and as they were covering him, I felt like maybe I was either going to cry or barf or maybe both. So I went in the house.

Pretty soon, a policeman came to the door. Riley saw him coming, and was like "Everybody just act natural. We don't want him to think we killed that guy". I was like "Honey - we DIDN'T kill that guy . Also, DO NOT say that in front of the policeman". And then I sent her upstairs just in case.

The police officer was nice - AND HOT. I was of course very suave - when he asked me if I knew what had happened, I said yes I did. After an awkward pause (I didn't know he expected me to tell him what happened - did he not already know?) I said "A guy took a header off his motorcycle...and died?" He agreed, so finally we were on the same page. He told us we weren't going to be able to leave the house for a few hours because they were blocking off the street until the traffic investigator could do his thing. When he left, Chris was like "He was nice" And I said "He smelled really good" and then went into the bathroom to see if I had paint all over my face or if I had looked halfway presentable when talking to Officer Straight White Teeth and Acceptable Amount of Cologne.

Anyway, that was pretty much it. Guy on motorcycle, not wearing helmet (and also sandals with socks - appropriate riding gear? I think not), loses control of bike and (so they think) went over the handlebars headfirst into the car parked in our neighbor's driveway. Died instantly - I hope. Because the weird thing was that none of us heard anything. No screeches or thuds or skidding - the only way Chris knew what was going on was that he saw one of our other neighbors stop in front of our house and start yelling. Chris couldn't see anything and so he went up to our guest bathroom and saw the guy laying in a heap in the yard. By the time he got back downstairs and put his jacket on, the paramedics were there and the guy was definitely dead. No blood - just major head trauma. However, I have no idea how long he was laying there - maybe our neighbor saw it happen, maybe he just saw the guy in the yard.

Anyway, that's the story. I still can't believe it - who does stuff like this happen to? Crazy.

Put on your tapered leg pants...

2008-03-14T08:24:00.002-06:00

... and wear a holiday themed sweatshirt, because oh my god you guys - as of next Monday, I will be a soccer mom.

Abby has been waiting patiently to turn 5 so she could play soccer, so since her birthday is in 3 weeks, it's about that time. I can't wait to see those tiny kids running around kicking in the general vicinity of the ball. I'm excited to laugh at the hijinks of 4 and 5 year olds who've never played before. I mean, to see them learn skills and sportsmanship.

On the other hand, Riley started yet another season of softball, which I am much less enthusiatic about. Sorry to offend any of you that might like softball, but ack. It is SO BORING. It's bad enough on it's own, but when the kids are little and can't get the pitches over the plate and then the coach has to come in and pitch pretty much EVERY TIME, but not before we sit through a bunch of throws that don't make it remotely near the plate. Luckily, there's a sort of three-pronged escape clause. The game is over when one team gets a certain amount of points OR the game has reached a time limit OR we've gotten to a certain amount of innings. Whichever comes first. And since I'm totally complaining about this, I'll say that three-pronged or not, none of those can come soon enough. It usually ends up being the time clause, because no one can get enough hits to make the point thing and no one can get enough outs in a timely manner as to help along the inning thing. It's good times, I'm telling you.

Speaking of prongs, last season we were driving home after a particularly looooong game in which the score was like 5 hojillion to 2, and Riley was like "If we would have had just one more inning, maybe we could have won!" (oh the eternal optimism of children) and I said to Chris under my breath "Yes! If we would have had just one more inning, I would have totally stuck a fork in my eye so I had an excuse to get out of there!" We laughed for a long time with Riley saying "What? What?" But of course I would never say that to her. Chris (who is also no fan of softball) thinks its unfair that I get to do soccer with Abby and he HAS to do softball (we're such awesome parents - being supportive of our children and their sports decisions) but I told him not to worry. I would at least come to a couple of games and I would even leave my fork at home. Unless we're at an all-day tournament, in which case, all bets are off.

I sound horrible, I know, and I do want the girls to play sports, it's just that is it too much to ask that they play a sport that we might be interested in watching? Their mom signed Riley up for softball, and then conveniently left the state for 5 weeks. Coincidence? I think not.

In other news, last night we were walking to the park and the girls were riding their bikes. Riley said "how come when I stop I can't balance on my bike, but when I start up again, I can balance?" I said "It's physics, baby. You'll learn about it in high school." And she's like "But why? Why does it do that?" So Chris said "It's physics honey - you're going to learn about it." But this was still not good enough. "Is it because I'm moving and not moving? Does that make me balance better?" And I said to Chris (under my breath of course) "Does she not understand that when we tell her that she'll learn something in high school, that means 'WE DON'T KNOW and don't want to sound stupid'?" Sigh. Now I guess I'm going to have to see what the internets say about bike balancing and the like.

This is me telling you what to do.

2008-03-12T13:05:00.007-06:00

Book recommendations, because you asked. Other recommendations, because you didn't.

Shadow Laws by Jim Michael Hansen - he's a Denver lawyer, and I'm that nerd who likes books that take place in my town because I know what the places look like and whatever. Anyway, it's a suspense/thriller told from the point of view of 3 characters, which makes for a good read.

The Watchman by Robert Crais - Part of a series about a private detective, this one focuses on the mercenary (with a heart of gold, of course) who co-owns the business and is protecting someone AT ALL COSTS from getting whacked. Fast, brainless fiction.

Little Earthquakes by Jennifer Weiner - I love her books, and this was no different. Told from the point of view of four characters, it's a total chick book about pregnancy and babies and stuff like that.

Velocity by Dean Koontz - I actually read this a while ago, but wanted to add it anyway. I could not put this book down. Totally suspenseful and really fast moving. So good.

Dark Harbor by Stuart Woods - Suspense/mystery, part of the Stone Barrington series. Gratuitous sex and CIA intrigue and murder - I read it in one afternoon. I enjoy Stuart Woods so much though. Chiefs is one of my most favorite books EVER, and I DEFINITELY recommend that as well.

Dry Ice by Stephen White - Another one set in Colorado. Part of a suspense/thriller series centering on a psychologist. I love this whole series, and would also recommend Kill Me, which is the one right before this I think.

I've also recently read T is for Trespass by Sue Grafton - suspenseful, thought-inducing and not as fluffy as the previous ones in the series. And Book of the Dead by Patricia Cornwell. I really like the Kay Scarpetta series, because of the interesting forensic stuff. However, the characters are really starting to bum me out, what with the fact that apparently no one is ever entitled to any happiness or even a frickin' good mood every once in a while.

Don't watch the following movies: The Heartbreak Kid with Ben Stiller, because as great as I think he is, that is a totally stupid movie not worth the time we spent watching it. 30 Days of Night with Josh Hartnett, because although I like a scary movie here and there and also am not averse to vampires, I couldn't wait for this to be over. The premise was good - it takes place in a tiny town in Alaska during the month when there isn't sun ever. Perfect for vampires, right? Totally. And so this could have been good, but what it involved was a lot of blood and gore and vampires who apparently don't speak any sort of human language, except they scream a lot. There was no suspense, and also it followed not one thing I know about vampires from watching The Lost Boys, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the t.v. show) and Angel. Plus, there were no remotely hot vampires like Spike or Angel or even a great looking mullet-headed Kiefer Sutherland. AND to top it off, the end totally sucked. Booo.

You SHOULD watch these movies: 3:10 to Yuma. SO GOOD. First of all, in case you didn't know, I love Christian Bale more than, well, something I really love (I can't wait to see him in Batman this summer. Why? Because he is SMOKIN' HOT and can also act). Anyway he was awesome in this. I also enjoy Russell Crowe's acting (and he's pretty hot when he wants to be) and he was stellar in this. He plays a really bad guy who you can be sympathetic to without feeling bad about it. Also this kid Ben Foster plays a perfectly despicable psycho. Love. Hot Fuzz is also great. A lot of people haven't seen this because it stars two English guys and you know how sometimes Americans don't get British comedy? It is funny and actiony and I love these guys. They also did Shawn of the Dead (zombies!) and while I thought that was also funny, I like Hot Fuzz more.

Awesome mascara - Bourjois Volume Clubbing in Ultra Black. I like to look like I'm wearing mascara, because I go with the natural look on the rest of my face, so this is great because it makes my lashes look thicker and not just tinted black. I was a little wary because the girl who recommended it to me was wearing eye shadow in hot pink and bright blue (and not in a good way), and also because it has the word "clubbing" in it, which is a little preciously trendy and reminds me how totally old I am, but as it turns out, she was right and also it's a sub-company of Chanel, not some weird fly-by-night operation. Nobody likes shady fly-by-night mascara, right?

Ok. I think that does it. Anything else you want me to tell you to read or watch or buy or do? You just let me know.

This entry is like if my brain barfed words

2008-03-10T16:29:00.007-06:00

So I would've written sooner, except for last week there was this stomach virus? And it did that illegal leg sweeping move like in "Karate Kid"? Only on my stomach instead? I won't keep you in suspense - I did not heroically limp anywhere and win any tournament. Oh no. There may have been some limping, but there were no heroics - in fact the virus soundly whupped my ass. Wax on wax off will not help you in this situation, my friends.

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Actual conversation with the intake person on the Ask a Nurse hotline:

Intake lady: "What seems to be wrong?"

Me: "I have the world's worst stomach virus"

Intake lady: "Okay..."

Me: "Seriously. Write that down. 'World's Worst.'"

Intake lady: "What are your symptoms?"

Me: "Excruciating stomach pain, for one. I will say that I tend to exaggerate, but in this case I am not. Also you should write that down too. Excruciating."

Intake lady: "..."

I hope she wasn't new. Otherwise, she's probably like "is everyone who calls here so bossy?"

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The good news was that I read somewhere around five or six books last week. All good, so if you're looking for recommendations (Eddie), I've got some.

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I got Chris a Wii for his birthday. So far, I like it. Except for how in the instant replays in tennis, my sorry Wii remote skills are right there in slow motion, as my onscreen person watches the ball go by and THEN swings or swings, misses and falls down. It's almost like if I were playing tennis in real life, only marginally less embarassing.

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I have never had long hair my entire life, even as a kid. I've always had cute, kicky short to medium hair, and I like it. Right now, I am trying mightily to grow my hair out. It's working, however, I now have hair that falls almost mid-back that is a tangly mess of wavy/curly awfulness. Unless I want to spend time straightening and re-curling it (which most of the time I don't, because *duh* it cuts into my sleeping time), it always ends up in a ponytail. Any advice would be helpful. Because what I ENVISION is the awesome long wavy hair of the STARS. What I'm getting is decidedly not that.

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Also, since I'm on a book kick, give me some recommendations. I've got two on deck right now, but will be done with those by the weekend. Also, I'm looking for new decor for Chris and I's bedroom - I've looked at the typical places, so if you've got any off the beaten path places with cool bed linens and whatnot, let me know that too! Awesome.

And then my liver took a standby flight home

2008-02-26T13:41:00.007-07:00

So I spent last week Somewhere in Middle America - that's Omaha, for those of you unfamiliar with the Counting Crows - attending our annual company meeting. It's a long week, with meetings and events from about 7:30 a.m. until 9 at night. Plus, then everyone retires to the hotel bar for hours on end of drinking and talking about work some more. Luckily, wives are invited and so I spend a lot of time with them and we talk about husband and boyfriend quirks that none of the guys would want me to know about. Let me just say that if I ever want to shut someone down, all I have to do is mention some of the dirt I have on them and we're good.

After arriving on Monday and drinking much more than I usually do for three nights in a row, by the time Thursday rolled around and the final event was over, I was pretty much alcoholed out. However, Chris and I and 2 of our friends headed to the bar for one last drink before we called it a night. Ha. One drink. Good one. Before we could finish our one drink, about 12 of our co-workers showed up and another drink appeared in front of me and we're pulling up tables and chairs to accomodate everyone. When the round of shots arrived, however, is when my liver was like "bitch, please" and that's when it went ahead and took a standby flight home. Along with a lot of people's good sense. That must have been a pretty full flight.

Guess what? Peter Forsberg is coming back to the Avalanche! This is so exciting. I love him very much - because he ~~is so smoking hot~~ I mean ~~has gorgeous blue eyes~~ what? No ~~makes me want to throw myself onto the ice~~ oh stop IS A GREAT PLAYER. Yes. That's what I meant. As you can see from the eloquent way I express myself in all things Forsberg, you have to know that I was equally as composed when I actually met him face to face. Here's the story, which I may have told you before, but who doesn't like to re-hear an embarassing story?

I was a bridesmaid in a wedding in which my friend married a guy like 10 years older than her. The marriage lasted maybe a year or two, and I was the only one of her friends that he liked, so apparently he got me in the divorce. Because she and I aren't friends anymore, but he and I are. As it happened, he was the reporter who covered the Avs for one of the big newspapers here, and so while he couldn't get me into games for free, I often met him downtown after the games for drinks at the place where the team hung out. I got to meet all the young guys and it was pretty fun, although what I really wanted was to meet Forsberg. Unfortunately, Peter never really went out after the games. Except for one time when I happened to be there.

I was standing with my friend near the bar, and here comes Peter Forsberg walking towards us, headed for the bathroom. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he had on a dove gray dress shirt, tie and black dress pants. Gah. And Ack. He said hi to my friend and I wisely stopped myself from running after him. You know, for the sake of decorum. On the way back, he stopped and chatted for a second, and my friend is like "Peter, this is Amber". Forsberg looked at me with those ice blue eyes, held out his hand and said "It's really nice to meet you". I, being a quick thinker, realized that I had a glass of wine in my left hand and my coat in my right hand, so I'd have to get rid of something so I could shake his hand. So, because I'm suave, I dropped my coat on the floor. And because I'm a delicate flower, I unobtrusively (ha) kicked it behind me, while also shaking his hand and trying not to faint as he kept looking at me with THOSE EYES. I think I also managed "it's nice to meet you too", which I was pretty proud of, because what my brain was TELLING me to say was "will you marry me?" Aw. Yeah. Don't be jealous of my superior skillz in chatting up sports stars.

You would think that I could have come up with something witty to say to him, or even just long winded, because judging from most of my entries, long winded is my specialty. Oh well. I must have pulled it off to some extent, because he didn't make a face or run away screaming, and I didn't faint or barf or fling my wine glass across the room, so all in all, well played. Everybody wins.

You will love me. Yes, you will.

2008-02-14T13:15:00.003-07:00

Do you like how I give you no choice?

I'm taking Cheryl's lead today, because I don't have a lot of interesting stuff to talk about. It snowed again, after first raining, so that there was a thin sheet of ice covering the car this morning. Good times. I'm also leaving work early today, because not only do I want to miss the rush hour traffic, but I am also attending a preschool Valentine's Day party. Oh yeah. I'm actually kind of excited for the cuteness of it all. I felt all mom-like today when I dropped off the juice that I had signed up to bring for the party. I will also be feeling all mom-like later when Chris and I share a romantic dinner...with the girls, at - wait for it - Chili's. It's ok if you're jealous because I live a romance-filled life. Actually, Chris brought me roses and a really sweet card - he is a lovey romantic guy. In the most manly way possible, of course.

Anyway, back to the point of this. I'm going to say one thing I like about myself, and then YOU'RE going to tell me one thing you like about me. See how everybody wins? I love me and also, YOU get to love me as well.

It's Valentine's Day - share the love. Because I love you! And I hope you all have a wonderful day!

Code Talkers

2008-02-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

Ok, I know not everyone thinks that me talking about the CHILDREN all the time is INTERESTING. However. That's essentially what my life entails now. Listening to the children.

For instance, last night Abby was in the bathtub and was chattering away while I sat in a chair with my feet on the edge of the tub and daydreamed while partially listening. Does that make me a bad listener? No it does not. I have learned how to half-listen while still thinking about other things and yet answering at the required junctures. Besides, half of the time, she's not even talking to me - she's talking to herself. (I have also learned to listen carefully while appearing to be entirely uninterested. This comes in handy with Riley, as she may be trying to slide something by me while trying to sucker daddy into it. However, that is neither here nor there).

Back on subject. Bathtub, Abby talking. All of the sudden, I realize that she's talking to ME. Usually I am quicker on the uptake than that, however, she kept saying "Mommy. Mommy. MOMMY." Oh right. That would be me. She has taken to calling me that and I sometimes am right on it with the answer, and sometimes I'm off somewhere in Halflistening-ville wondering who she's talking to. Hmm. Perhaps there's some perfecting to be done in the whole not totally listening arena.

Man, can I stay on task with a story or what? Wordy McTangent, reporting for duty. Ahem. The conversation:

Abby: "Our new pres-dent saw he sadow and now we have sits more weets til winter.
Amber: "Our new president...saddle...what?"
Abby: "No. Sadow. SADOW."
Amber: *thinking* "sadow...winter...A-HA"
Amber: "Our new president saw his shadow and now we have six more weeks of winter?"
Abby: "Yes"
Amber: "You mean the GROUNDHOG saw his shadow. And we have six more weeks until SPRING. It's winter right now."
Abby: "Oh. Yes, that's wha I mean. Groun-hog."

At which point I had to explain the whole shadow/groundhog thing and we both got pretty bored with it, so I decided to not even TRY to explain President's Day.

Another conversation:
Amber: "Did you sleep ok last night?"
Chris: "Not really. I kept waking up."
Amber: "Why?"
Chris: "SOMEone kept POKING me"
Amber: "Well, you were snoring all 'snooooorrrrkkkkkkxxxxxx' and I couldn't sleep"
Chris: "When we were first dating, you used to gently touch me to get me to stop."
Amber: "True. And I guess I also didn't sit bolt upright in the middle of the night and loudly say 'For the love of god. Blow your nose!' Do you think the romance is gone?"
Chris: "Probably."

Book 'em

2008-01-15T10:58:00.000-07:00

One of the things that has been really great about having the girls is that I get to introduce them to books and movies I loved when I was a kid.

I went to Barnes & Noble the other day to look for a book that Abby's school had recommended. They didn't have it, but that didn't stop me from buying $50 worth of OTHER books. What, I was just wandering around and I kept seeing cute books, and then I remembered some that I had liked as a kid, so I looked for those. And I found them. Seriously, what adult my age didn't read "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs"? Or "Miss Nelson is Missing"? I totally remember those, so of course I had to get them. The girls loved them, along with a NEW book about a little cat who thinks he's a crime fighting chihuahua.

Then I was at Office Depot yesterday waiting for my boss, and I saw a shelf of $10 movies, and what just happened to be on there? "The Neverending Story". So OF COURSE I HAD TO BUY IT. Beth and I used to love that movie as kids, and we even saw the horrible sequels. Of course we were cynical jr. high kids by the time the second one came out, and so we sat in the back of the theater giggling and providing a running commentary on how bad the movie was. However, it never diminished the greatness of the first movie, so I'm excited for the girls to see it. We also have "Annie" and "A Chipmunk Christmas", which the girls like.

Which brings me to my point. What books and movies do you remember loving as a kid?

'Twas the night before Christmas (a week ago)

2007-12-31T10:41:00.000-07:00

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse

The stockings were hung by the chimney with careIn hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there

The children were nestled all snug in their beds While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads

I realize that I'm a little late with this, but hey, I took a little time off last week and I was really busy. I guess you can't really tell from the picture, but I was BUSY. Christmas was really fun this year. It was a blast seeing the girls so excited about Santa, and seeing them open their presents. By the time my parents got there, the loft where all of their play stuff was looked like some sort of toy explosion. Of course, my mom immediately started tidying up. Bless her little heart, she just can't help herself. I dragged her back downstairs, where she proceeded to wash the dishes I had used cooking that morning. Sigh. My first time hosting Christmas dinner went really well, despite the blizzardy weather, and Santa Chris did another amazing job of getting me presents. He stresses out about it every year, but comes through big time. Last year, he got me crystal champagne flutes. This year, I got new jammies (which if you know me AT ALL, you'll know that I love jammies), perfume, and a new Coach purse. That he picked out all by himself and that I love. He's so good to me.

It was a pretty snowy week, so I decided to use up some sick days and stay home. I took a lot of naps and read an entire book and basically hung around and relaxed. P.I.C. was in town for Christmas, so he came over on Friday night (I lured him into the 'burbs by making his favorite - chicken enchiladas) and he and Chris and I sat around laughing and drinking wine. I miss my P.I.C. I wish he still lived in town.

Anyway, all the extra rest I got was negated this weekend, because Riley got sick with pretty much the same thing Abby had a couple of weeks ago. She's a great little patient. She doesn't whine or complain, and she just wants to snuggle with you. Abby, however, is the one that kept me awake. She loves to sleep with her sister, but I said no because Riley needed to be left alone. So Abby fell asleep in our bed Saturday night, and Chris took her up to her room. She showed up again at about 3. And wanted to chat. Last night we let her sleep with Riley, but she still showed up at 3. I get to leave work at noon today, and guess who's taking a little nap? My excuse is that I'm trying to stay well. Besides Abby being sick a while back, Chris was sick last week, and now Riley. Must...resist...germs...

I'm not complaining though. We had the best Christmas, and I see every day how blessed I am. Stay tuned for my review 0f 2007.

Happy New Year!

*p.s. that mouse in the picture is not from our house - he lives at camp in Montana. I didn't want anyone to think that we also got hanta virus for Christmas...

I'm dreaming of a clean Christmas

2007-12-20T09:18:00.000-07:00

In case you didn't know, living in a house with four people ups your laundry considerably. Especially when one person works on a muddy construction site, one person tends to spill whatever they're eating on their shirt, one person manages to get the majority of whatever craft they're doing onto their shirt, and one person is relatively good about keeping their clothes clean, but hey, everyone needs clean socks and underwear. FYI, in case you think I'm tooting my own horn, I'm not the "relatively good" one.

Anyway, our room looked like a textile mill exploded in it. There was a mountain of clean clothes on the floor at the bottom of our bed, and our closet was chock full of more piles of clothes. There was a huge box of shoes that I hadn't unpacked (instead, I would just root through to find the pair I wanted to wear that day - klassy, I know) and a few other piles of stuff that hadn't been unpacked yet. I can't believe I'm even telling you this.

So Sunday morning, Chris hauled all of the clean clothes into the living room, and I watched all my TiVoed shows while I folded and folded and folded. We spent the entire day cleaning and folding and unpacking and sorting and getting rid of stuff, until by the evening, our bedroom was totally clean, our closet was organized, and it looks like tidy people live there, instead of the mess that was. And lest you think it took us all day to just clean one room, the rest of the house is also clean. Ahem. Also, as a side note, I'd like to thank TiVo for its complete and total awesomeness. I never have to miss a show ever again. Ever. Everyone needs TiVo.

My point (and I do have one) is that I'm really glad we got all of the tidying up done, because for the first time ever, I'm hosting Christmas. This means my dad, my brother, and my mom. In case you haven't met my mom, let me just tell you that she is known as either Ninja Mom or the Tidy Fairy. When I used to live at home, I lived in our basement, with my own living room and t.v. and everything. I swear, Ninja Mom would silently hang from the ceiling, waiting for me to finish my drink. Because I'd walk away, and when I came back, my glass would be gone. And when I lived in my own house, my mom would feed the cats, and I'd come home to a cleaner house than when I left. Clearly the Tidy Fairy had come by. Of course, I had to clean my house before I left so that I wouldn't have to hear about what a slob I am. But it was worth it to have the tupperware cabinet totally organized.

Lest you think I'm like Pigpen, I'm not. It's just that my mom is serious about a clean house. She doesn't have one of those pesky "outside of the home" jobs, and so our house has always been super clean. Which I totally appreciate, but sometimes I wish she had worked outside of the home so that she would actually understand what it's like to work 10 or 12 hours with people who need stuff RIGHT NOW and then come home to children who need stuff RIGHT NOW and so it would be logical why I can't muster up some righteous indignation at that dust on the side table and leap to action right that second.

I'm not complaining, not at all. I love my mom, and I appreciate that we grew up in a clean house and were expected to take care of our own spaces, because I learned how to be a good housekeeper. As an aside, I wish I had also learned how to iron like my mom does, because she can perfectly crease a pair of pants and I can't iron for shit (sometimes I still purposely show up at her house to go somewhere nice with a wrinkly shirt so that she'll make me take it off and she'll iron it perfectly for me - I can't believe I'm admitting that either), but that's neither here nor there.

My point (and maybe not my original one, but I've kind of lost track at this point) is that we still have some tidying up to do before Saturday. Why Saturday? Because that's when the cleaning lady is coming. I can't have the Tidy Fairy ruining Christmas by commenting on any sort of lack of housekeeping ("This house is just too big for you to take care of") and so I'm going to nip that in the bud by pretending that Chris and I cleaned the house in all of our FREE TIME. Chris thinks she might be suspicious, but oh well. I'm going to act innocent and pretend that it was all just a Christmas Miracle.

I feel like something's missing...

2007-12-17T08:55:00.001-07:00

The Shepherds are there...

The Angels are there...

The Wise Men are there...
Wait a minute
I never figured Joseph to be one of those guys to run away from responsibility, but I suppose being the stepfather of the Son of God might be a bit overwhelming at times.

I seriously cannot find him anywhere.

And I'm sure they had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Ho ho ho and whatnot

2007-12-12T14:26:00.001-07:00

So it's a damn good thing that we went shopping the day after Thanksgiving and got all of the girls' loot, because I haven't had time to do any shopping since then. However, at Alice's request, I will now tell you what I have gotten so far...

It all started when I made a list before Thanksgiving with stuff that the girls have mentioned that they wanted. This is no small feat, because since Abby and I spent a lot of time on the couch watching "Spongebob" last week, I found out that she wants pretty much everything that there is a commercial for. But she is asking for it for her birthday, because she already went and saw Santa, so in her mind, there's no changing that order. Lest you think that we are raising a greedy and materialistic child, her list to Santa had the following: 4 coloring books, 2 Barbies, a new truck for her grandpa, and a Spiderman for Drake (a friend at school). That's all. I thought it was adorable and so sweet that she asked Santa for things for other people. Of course, I pretty much think everything she says and does is totally adorable, so I suppose I'm not much of a judge.

Anyway. Back to the list. I was originally going to order everything from the internet, since I love Christmas but hate crowds and lines. Then I got all concerned that something horrible would happen and the stuff wouldn't get delivered in time and the girls would have a Christmas morning like that episode of Friends when Chandler and Joey get everyone's presents at a gas station. AND since they both still believe in Santa, once the gifts arrived, we'd have a hard time explaining why Santa uses UPS.

Ok. THE LIST. Geez, I am not good at the focusing. Ahem. So I decided that I would separate my list into the two places where I could find everything - Toys R Us and Target, and then we'd go shopping. Even better, we'd go the day after Thanksgiving AT 5 A.M. - because that's when Toys R Us opened. I'm not usually that girl (see: I hate crowds), but I figured if nothing else, we'd see some die hard crazies. I was not wrong. By the time we got there at 5:45, the checkout line already stretched to the back of the store, around the whole back and baaaack to the front. Essentially, the end of the line was at the entrance to the store. We walked around for about 5 minutes before I declared that there was no holly jolly way I was standing in a three hour line. So we went to a nearby Super Target (which opened at 6) and spent about an hour and a half and got EVERYTHING on my list and then some. Including stocking stuffers and groceries. The best part? There was no line. That, my friends, was totally my kind of shopping.

So what did we get them. Well, Riley is getting a lot of crafty things, as she loves crafts. A friendship bracelet maker, needlepoint, a fancy version of Spirograph, chapter books, a puzzle, a stuffed dog, a Strawberry Shortcake Doll (because they'll be getting skanky-ass Bratz dolls over my cold dead body) and a hair beader. I didn't WANT to get the hair beader, because our house seems to be a strange sort of bead breeding ground. The laundry room is right outside our bedroom and dear god, the racket. I found a bazillion beads in there this morning when I opened it up. I also step on them constantly and find them in the folds of the couch. But the hair beader was specifically asked for, so I got it. Along with assorted other things. Abby is getting a Fisher Price digital camera, so that I no longer find 55 pictures of her stuffed animals on my phone ("I took 4 pictures of each one!"), a coloring book, a Strawberry Shortcake doll, a puzzle, some books, spirograph, a stuffed kitty, and some Littlest Pet Shop stuff. They are also getting gifts for them together - a lot of coloring supplies, a bowling set, and dominos. And of course, they're getting clothes, including matching jammies and robes for Christmas Eve. It's a good thing they're not spoiled, don't you think? We were very careful to spend similar amounts of money on them and make sure that they have an equal number of presents, because Santa does NOT like to have the Fair Police on his ass.

Other than that, I've gotten a present for my parents and that's all. I got my mom and dad tickets to see B.B. King when he comes here in April, which they will love. However, even though I haven't been shopping much, I'm having a great Christmas season. I love Christmas (did I mention that?) and I've realized that it's even better when you can experience it the way kids do. Everything is so exciting and interesting and new and it's just fun. I've gotten to bake and frost homemade sugar cookies, decorate the tree with little people, talk about Santa as if he were real, tell them the ACTUAL Christmas story and play with the nativity scenes I have, and sing Christmas Carols. A lot of it is stuff I've done tons of times before, but I never really paid much attention - I just did it because I always have. But this year I get to do stuff with the girls that is still new to them, and that's been the best. It may sound stupid, but it helps me remember what Christmas should be all about.

Ha.

2007-12-10T17:56:00.000-07:00

Apparently when I said "tomorrow" I would update the blog, what I meant was "in about one week."

Here's why. Abby was sick allllll last week. Day care sent her home again on Thursday, and so she couldn't go back Friday, so workplace was graced with the presence of a 4 year old. We just remodeled, and the boss is all about "open spaces" and whatnot, which is totally great for Abby. To run through at top speed. She only fell into a cabinet and hit her head once. She was a big helper, and actually, unbelievably well behaved. She was pretty quiet (although I guess it took the relative quiet of an office to realize that she talks loud and also kids that age don't control THE VOLUME OF THEIR VOICE), and was so patient about staying much longer than I meant to. Her day of work was so exhausting -- what with the running and the talking and the helping and coloring and movie watching and writing on my dry erase board and sort of my newly painted wall (oops) -- well, she pretty much didn't say a word the whole ride home and then took a nap. She and I went to bed early too. Because mommy had a long week and a lot of sleeping next to a kid with a fever who also likes to sleep sideways.

I've figured out that work is pretty much just people constantly saying "Amber, I need..." and I've decided that I need something. For people to stop telling me they need stuff. I'm really not complaining, because I love my job, but come on. You're killing me people, I'm not even kidding. In fact, I'm typing this at work while I wait for stuff to download so I can take home some more work. FUN. I've almost given up, but then again, it's supposed to snow tonight and just my luck it'd take me eight years to get to work and then the guys would be all "AAAAAaaaaaack!" and I just don't want to hear the freaking out.

Still waiting on the downloading. In fact, I'm giving up and burning a cd instead of screwing with my stupid memory stick.

I'd like to take this time wish myself a happy three year blogiversary! I was trying to get to the 300 post mark by the 3 year anniversary, but this post marks my 296th. Still pretty impressive, I think. I'm patting myself on the back right now.

I still am going to talk about Christmas with kids and all that, but right now I have to go home and make dinner for said kids.

I'm not going to re-read this because I'm afraid I'll be like "not going to post -- too disjointed and boooooring". So enjoy!

Being a parent is hard: Part bazillion

2007-12-05T13:19:00.000-07:00

This is not a complaint, but merely a statement. Being a parent is hard.

The newest hard part of parenting is the sick child. Abby has had a fever for the past 3 days (Chris took her to the doctor today, who said she probably just has a virus. Helpful.) and so even though it's her mom's week to have the girls, we have kept Abby because we can stay home with her. Since Chris' ex tends to go through jobs like some people go through underwear, she doesn't have any sick time accrued at her current job, therefore can't stay home with a sick child. So we have just kept her so that she doesn't have to wake up early at mommy's and come to our house - she can just sleep as long as she wants to.

This of course does not mean that WE get to sleep as long as we want to. Monday night, Chris slept in a different bed because Abby slept with me - she had spent most of the day laying on me on the couch and wasn't about to relinquish the snuggles to Daddy. I worked yesterday morning and Chris worked in the afternoon. Then last night Chris put Abby on the floor next to our bed after she fell asleep next to me, which lasted about two hours until a little voice said "Amber, I'm not comferbul on da flor." So she slept in between us for another couple of hours until she woke up again and asked for the cold "wafclof" for her hot forehead, and then she couldn't get "comferbul" again, and I took her temperature and it was almost 104 and I was all worried and I laid there worrying for an hour until she finally settled down and her temp went down to 100. It was my turn to sleep later this morning and work in the afternoon, so I at least got a little sleep. Very little, but better than nothing.

Again, not complaining. Because even though I hate for her to be sick, I love to spend time with my little baby snuggling on me and laying next to me in bed while I read a magazine, spelling out every headline until she falls asleep. Kids are funny. And totally cute. And exhausting. And adorable and worth all the other stuff.

Anyway, I should probably stop procrastinating and get some work done. Tomorrow I'll tell you all about why parenting is way cool, especially at Christmas.

Giving Thanks

2007-11-26T09:20:00.001-07:00

Ok, so I realize that Thanksgiving was like 4 days ago, but that doesn't make me any less thankful for the things I have - it just makes me a litle late in verbalizing the thankfulness is all. So, without further ado, I bring you "The Things I am Thankful For".

Chris - I seriously could not ask for someone better to spend my life with. If you've read this blog for any length of time (pre-Chris, of course) you might remember some of the dismal dating escapades I've endured, and believe me, there were many prior to that. If I knew that the result of all of those would be Chris, well, I would do it all again. He is everything I had on my mental list and more. He makes me laugh and he listens to me and he cares about me and he takes care of me. He's a great dad and a great man - I always know he appreciates me and he does stuff around the house and he's the best snuggler. My mom has said "you can tell Chris really loves you" - and he does - I never doubt that. I think about how when I found out that he was going through a divorce, I almost didn't take a chance on him. I didn't want to go through the pain of another Not Boyfriend. But, since I'm not known for my good sense when it comes to things like that, I ignored the prospect of a repeat performance and jumped in with Chris. I have never been so happy that I ignored the safe road and barreled down the unknown path, because having him in my life has shown me what loving and being loved by "The One" truly is.

Riley & Abby - Being a parent is a hard thing in itself, but being a parent to kids who are already 8 and 4 years into their lives is harder. BUT, I am thankful for my girls. I'm thankful that they are sweet and smart and that they have accepted me into their lives as part of their family. I am thankful that I don't have to fight the battle of kids who harbor the illusion of mommy and daddy getting back together and see me as an obstacle to that. I am thankful for hugs and kisses and my baby who wants to be with me from the minute I get home until she goes to sleep. I am thankful for funny things they say, and the opportunity to see the world through the eyes of people who are not yet cynical and for who so much is new and wonderful and interesting. I am thankful for my little family.

My parents and my brother - I am always thankful for my family. I hope I can be the kind of parent that my parents are to me. They never stop being willing to help and I always feel loved. I talk to my mom at least once a day and it is great to have her to listen to me freak out and give me advice on being a mom. I don't talk to my dad as much, but that's because he's a guy and doesn't need to talk to me 85 times a day. But both of my parents are awesome and they have not only accepted Chris as part of our family, but have totally embraced the girls and love them. I am thankful that I get to see what amazing grandparents my parents are - because they TOTALLY ARE. I am thankful for my brother and that I get to see him grow up and achieve a lot of really cool stuff. I am thankful that whenever I talk to him on the phone, he always says "I love you" before he hangs up. I am thankful for my family.

My friends - I have often said that I have the best friends in the world, and I am reminded every day that I really do. I have a circle of people in my life who care about me and love me and take great care of me. I have a life full of memories and history with amazing people. I have more love and support in my life than I could ever repay, and for that I am infinitely thankful.

I am thankful for my life and all of the people and things in it that make every day an enormous blessing.

Short Attention Span Post

2007-11-19T09:52:00.000-07:00

Well gosh, has it been two weeks since we last talked? Yes? Sorry about that. Life has been kicking my ass, but I think I've finally got it in some sort of reverse half-nelson (or other such fancy wrestling move) and might be able to twist it into submission sometime at the end of this week.

Work has been insanely busy, which means that I sit at my desk all day typing and designing and printing while people keep coming up and asking me for stuff. Or calling and asking me for stuff. However, I think things are going to slow down considerably after this week, at which point I will have a normal paced day, instead of the kind where you look at the time thinking "oh, it's like 2:30" and really it's 4:30.

I moved, thanks to the ass-busting hard work of Chris and Karen's husband John. Poor John - he's sort of screwed two ways when it comes to stuff like this - not only is he my friend from high school and Karen's husband (which of course means he sort of married all of us too), but he and Chris are also work pals (Karen and I call them "work spouses" because they totally act like an old married couple) so there was no getting out of it for him. But both were extremely good natured and patient with the ridiculous amount of stuff I have. John asked me at one point "are you sure you live alone?" Yeah. You wouldn't know it from the tons of boxes and bags they packed into the truck. And John's truck. And my mom's mini van. I also kept them stocked up on beer, so that helped.

So now the two front rooms of our house are full of boxes. I have mostly gotten all of the bags unpacked - pillows and bedding and clothes and the like. We spent pretty much all of yesterday working on rearranging the girls' rooms. The first thing we did last weekend was to set up the loft with my couch and t.v. so that the girls had their own play area. They love it. We hardly ever see them.

So that's pretty much it. Lots of unpacking and rearranging. I'm still having a hard time adjusting to the fact that I live there now. I keep feeling like I need to go home or something. But then again, it's only been a week. I love it though. I'm happy to live with Chris and when we have the girls it's a fun little family.

Update du jour

2007-11-06T10:22:00.000-07:00

Hi there! I just thought I'd say hi real quick, because I have a short break from the smackdown being laid on me by both work and home. Nothing drastic -- just busy. Insanely busy at work + remodeling + more moving = Are you kidding me with this? I'm moving offices today and so as if I haven't had enough of the packing, I have to do it at work as well. My boss said something about how fast I packed, and I was like "Yes, well, I've been practicing at home."

Last night I finished packing up the second bedroom -- I still have some minor things to do in there, but the millions of books and piles of papers are packed. Well, the books are packed. The piles of paper were shredded - I suppose it's not necessary to keep electric bills from the last two places you lived prior to buying your house. Or insurance information on cars you don't own. As a result, I have a large trash bag full of shredded paper. It was very satisfying.

I got the cats declawed, which was a very tramatizing experience for everyone. We made it through, thanks to Auntie Dr. Karen, pain medicine (for the cats), and a lot of pathetic gimping around the house (also the cats), which resulted in a lot of guilt (me) and subsequent getting nothing done because I had to hold the druggy Baby Kitty. The Booger wasn't in pain, just seriously disgruntled and seemingly unaffected by the "narcotic" effect of the pain medicine. His annoyance was compounded further after he managed to get one bandage off of his foot and the other one half off, and instead of claiming victory, he was thwarted by Auntie Dr. Karen and her sticky bandages of doom.

Anyway, I suppose I should go back to work. So that I can move after lunch, unpack, and then go home and pack some more. There are two things that make this sort of ok. One is that since I work in an office full of guys, I won't have to actually carry anything in the move. And two, I hired a cleaning lady to come on Saturday afternoon and clean the house after all the stuff is moved out so that I don't have to spend Sunday doing that. And the bonus third thing is that I can have wine while packing and unpacking at home.

See? It all works out.

Move it or lose it.

2007-10-30T09:21:00.000-06:00

Moving SUCKS.

As far as I know, no one likes to move. If there's anyone out there who does, come on over and pack my house up for me, will you? Because I'm about 1/20th done, and I want to stop right now.

I'm overwhelmed. I cleaned out the closet in my bedroom and gave away 4 trash bags full of clothes. The closet in the second bedroom yielded another trash bag of stuff to give away, and at least one bag of just stuff to toss. I cleaned out the closet in the bathroom (another bag of stuff to toss), and that's ready to go. I cleaned out the junk drawers in the kitchen and got rid of all the excess junk, expired vitamins and prescriptions (yet another bag of stuff to throw away). When I think about it, there's not that much that needs to actually be packed -- but then I LOOK at it, and I have a ton of stuff that needs to be packed.

I hate moving. I hate packing. Unpacking is better, but not by much.

Next up is the filing cabinet full of bills and statements from the past 5 or so years. I'm shredding a bunch of that stuff and getting it out of the house. Then I'm packing up the bookshelves, getting rid of a ton of books in the process.

I'm looking forward to the day when I can actually pack some stuff, instead of either throwing it away or giving it away. I have to get my act together well before November 10th -- that's moving truck day and my goal is to have the house emptied of everything but furniture.

Wish me luck. Sigh.

Working and sleeping are totally overrated

2007-10-23T13:00:00.000-06:00

Why I'm not working: Because I, like 85 brazillion other people, am online NOT getting World Series tickets. Not for me, mind you, but because the boss wanted as many of us as possible to get online and buy tickets. I spent most of yesterday also not working, for the same reason. Clearly whoever assured everyone (multiple times) that whatever stupid company is running this clusterfuck had the servers to accomodate the traffic had their heads up their ass.

Why I'm not working part deux: Because I'm writing this entry - duh.

Why I'm not sleeping: Well, I didn't sleep much on Saturday night, because Chris was out of town and so it was just me and the girls. This is obviously totally fine with me, as we always have fun. And we did, except for when Abby accidentally shut the garage door on Riley's head. It sounds worse (and more complicated) than it actually was - they were playing with a bouncy ball in the garage with the door partially up. Bouncy ball escaped, Riley went after it, Abby tried to help by making the door go up, not realizing it would go down first, door caught Riley and Abby hit the button again, averting horrible injury. There was some hysterical crying (on Riley's part) and some hiding in the garage (on Abby's part) before everyone got it together again. Riley was fine, and the crying was mostly fear vs. actual injury, but that did not stop me from googling "symptoms of a concussion" and making sure that she didn't have any of them. She didn't, which of course did not stop me from getting up a couple of times in the night to make sure she was still breathing, as I have seen enough CSI episodes involving seemingly innocuous head injuries that end in death to make me paranoid. On top of that, Abby was sleeping with me, and spent a lot of the night having bad dreams, which involves tossing, turning, whimpering, talking in her sleep, and hogging the bed. Good times. All culminating in my having to get them ready for their mom to pick them up, which is less about getting THEM ready and more about getting ME ready - mentally. It was fine - we were very civil (as I have met her quickly once before) and chatted amiably for a few minutes before she left. I told her about the garage door incident, and she seemed wholly unconcerned. This may change when she talks to Chris and tells him that I'm obviously unfit to be alone with the girls. Hey, he asked her if she wanted to have them for the weekend and her answer was "Can't Amber take them?"(I know, right?), so I say it's on her. Because in my defense, I can't possibly hover over them at all times during the day and kids are bound to do stupid things. Right? Anyway. I also wondered if she was weirded out ringing the doorbell at the house she used to live?

Why I'm not sleeping part deux: Because I'm moving to Castle Rock in 3 weeks. It's not the moving there that makes me lose sleep, it's the fact that I have so much to do at my condo before I move. I found a family who wants to rent it for a year, and they are moving in on November 15. This is all very awesome, because they're renting for my asking price, they seem stable and rent-paying, and also have lived in their other place for six years. AND they want to rent for a year, which makes me happy because I don't have to search for renters at random. All good signs. But I can't help but wake up in the middle of the night and think about all of the stupid packing I have to do. And the cleaning. I hate moving so very much.

And that, my friends, is why I'm yawning up a storm and wishing that I could take a nap. I suppose I could, as I sit here and wait to NOT buy tickets.

There are no secrets here

2007-10-19T16:00:00.000-06:00

A conversation I had with Abby this morning:

Abby: "This is your middle finger. If you stick it up by itself, it means you're saying a bad word"

Amber: "You're right. Let's not do that."

Abby: "Riley did that one time."

Amber: "Did she get in trouble?"

Abby: "Yes. But don't tell Riley I told you. It's a secret."

Amber: "Ok. I won't tell her."

Abby: "But you can tell the people at your work."

After further conversation, it was established that I could also tell Chris and my mom and dad. Apparently, the only person it's a secret from is Riley.

These are days to remember

2007-10-17T10:17:00.000-06:00

Chris worked late last night, so I picked up the ladies from school, and we went home. As I chopped cucumbers and carrots to dip in salad dressing (for those who didn't want asparagus) the girls colored and did homework, asking me how to spell words and telling me about school that day. Once that was done, they ran outside to ride their bikes in the crisp evening, raking leaves at the neighbor's house and jumping in the pile. They came back in as it got dark, and sat down for dinner, washed their hands with no complaints and no faking and tummies growling from hunger and the smell of roasted turkey that filled the kitchen. The three of us ate dinner together and chatted some more. After dinner, we baked cookies and played chess until it was t.v.time. At bedtime, Abby and I did our nighttime ritual of my stroking her face (but only me, because daddy doesn't do it right) until she drifted off to sleep. I tiptoed in Riley's room, kissed her goodnight, and went downstairs. I snuggled up with Chris and watched "SVU" and we called it a night.

I know not all days can go like this, but it reminded me of when I was a little kid and how my house used to be. I was a happy kid and I want that for the girls. When they're with us, I want them to know that they're at HOME. Where we cook dinner and bake stuff and eat together and we have bedtime rituals and family time and stuff we do to make their little lives less hectic and more stable. Sometimes it may take a little more frustration and patience than I have at that moment, but it's important enough to me to keep trying. Days like yesterday remind me that it's all worth it in the end.

Kid Fears

2007-10-03T10:18:00.000-06:00

I was listening to the radio the other day and they had one of those "dream doctors" on who will interpret your dreams. I wanted to call, but figured I'd just listen and see what other people called in about. Sure enough, someone called and said they had dreams of being chased by people. I ALWAYS have those dreams. Creepy people, murderers -- they've all shown up in my dreams.

According to the dream interpreter, being chased means that you're trying to let go of something and having a hard time with that. You're struggling with letting go, and it's chasing you. This made a ton of sense to me when I thought about the time frame that I'd been having a lot of chasing nightmares - like every night. They started right about the time that I started spending time with Chris' kids.

I can't remember if I said this on the blog or if I said it a lot in my head and never really out loud, but as much as I love Chris' kids, I did have a hard time at first. Not because I didn't like them or because they were bad kids -- I loved them right away and they are really good kids. Not because I didn't want to be with someone who already has kids or because I didn't want to be a mom -- the first one has never bothered me and the second one, well, if you know me AT ALL, you know I've always wanted to be a mom.

What it was was the suddenness of it all. I went from being a single person to having a boyfriend, which is a big enough transition. We dated for four months before I ever met the girls, so I at least had time to get a little bit used to being part of a pair. Then we added two more people to the equation -- and not just any people. LITTLE people. Who need lots of attention and care. So then I had to get used to being part of a family. To being a mom figure who has to think about what to feed these small people and how to get them to stay in bed and then get up in the morning and how to amuse them all day and teach them things and holy crap I need a drink but then again I suppose getting wasted in front of them isn't the sort of thing I need to teach them.

So I started having chase dreams. Because I was trying to let go of the idea that I only had to care about me (and of course the cats, but seriously, I have low maintenance pets for a reason) and all of the sudden I had to take into account things that affect the small people. I seriously think I was being chased by my single life. And maybe my independence and selfishness and the quiet evenings alone in the house. Pretty much I was being chased by the things that have been my life for the past five years - living alone on my own terms with no one to answer to but myself. And sometimes my mom, but that's a whole other post. Anyway.

I spent a lot of time being afraid that I was losing myself -- that I wasn't "fun" Amber anymore, but that I'd been taken over by "mom" Amber, who is considerably less fun because of the way she makes people eat their vegetables and not drink pop all the time and to go to bed at a reasonable hour. That all I had to talk about was the girls and what they said and did and how I didn't want to be that person because I used to be so BORED by those people and also? Your kids are never as funny to everyone else as they are to you. It's a fact, I know it, and yet? I STILL can't help myself. And because of all of those things, I was afraid that I'd be phased out by my friends who didn't have kids.

That was my biggest fear -- my best friends have been my best friends for 16 years, and in one case, 25 years. If I lost that, I'd be devastated. Apparently my mind glossed over the fact that we've been friends this long for a reason and I wasn't going to be phased out. I mean, they had a million other chances to phase me out - when we were much younger and stupider and fought more. I finally got up the courage to tell them my fears, and they said (I'm paraphrasing here) "You're an idiot. OF COURSE you won't get phased out." Whew. That was a relief.

So now more time has passed and I no longer have the chase dreams. At least not nearly as often as I did before. I have my mom to tell all the mom-related stuff to, not only because she is a mom (and a good one!) but also because she spends a lot of time with the girls and knows their personalities. And as their pretty-much-grandma, she finds the things they do to be as funny as I do, because really, that's her job now. I have my friends to talk about some kid stuff, but also the multitude of other stuff we can come up with. I'm still not totally comfortable in the realm of mom, but I'm feeling better as I learn more. It's not easy for the kids to have two different houses and two sets of rules and so right now our biggest job is establishing routines and creating stability. Also not easy, but TOTALLY worth it in the end. Because seriously, how cute are these small people?

Boring entry about my love of decorating.

2007-09-26T08:48:00.000-06:00

I love to decorate. I love to choose colors for rooms in the house, I love to pick out matching accessories, I love to find the rug that really pulls the room together.*

When I got my condo three years ago, I was thrilled, because since I owned it, I could paint and hang curtains and pictures -- all to my little decorator heart's content. And I did. You may remember how I agonized over what shade of beige to paint my living room -- thank god my aunt swooped in and informed me that we were painting it yellow before my head exploded. I have the "accent wall" in a brick red, and my aunt chose the perfect shade of yellow that wasn't too lemony and yet not so light it was almost - ack - beige. If you haven't seen the pictures of my house post-painting, look here.

The first room I painted was the guest bedroom -- I painted it "cabernet" and decorated it with black and white accents. It wasn't a highly visible room, and so I was able to take a color risk and paint it a darker color than I generally would have otherwise. Then, when the girls started staying at the house, we decided to make it into a bedroom for them.

So there it was -- three rooms I could decorate. And now? I have like 10. I haven't moved to Chris' house yet, but hopefully that will happen before the end of October (here's where I would make a snide comment about his money-grubbing ex, but I will not because we're talking about DECORATING. Ahem).

I also may have mentioned how Abby's room was not decorated at all -- nothing on the walls, no shelves, no paint, nothing. So I decided I'd do her room first -- it's a garden theme. I spent Saturday with her picking out paint and accessories (I already got her bedspread -- it's called "happy flowers") and luckily she's an easy kid to shop with, because she picked out a lovely almost flourescent green, but pretty much didn't care when I said no. I instead painted one wall "Bibbidi Bobbidi Blue" which you may figure out is a Disney color, and sponge painted on white clouds so it looks like a sky. Along the bottom of the wall, we're hanging a white picket fence and putting silk daisies behind the fence so it looks like a garden with flowers. I put little painted wood bees and ladybugs and dragonflies and butterflies on the wall so it looks like they're flying around the sky. She LOVES it. And I have to say, it looks adorable. I love when the project turns out like I envisioned it would. I'll post pictures next week.

Next up - Riley's room. She's getting the bunk bed and bedding from their room at my house, so it will be a couple of shades of purple and also a pale green. After that, I have our room, our bathroom, the guest room, the kids' play loft, the dining room, the kitchen, the living room. Oh the painting to be done. But I am SO EXCITED to have an actual house to decorate. A BIG house. And because Chris is a sweetie, whenever I tell him what I'm planning for one room or another, he says "whatever you want". Aww. Poor guy has no idea how much painting he's going to be doing in the very near future...

*You will not get this unless you are familiar with one of the best movies ever "The Big Lebowski".

If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes

2007-09-19T11:57:00.000-06:00

The angry pterodactyl showed up again this morning. The NAKED angry pterodactyl. You know, the one who kicks and kicks so that you can't get their underpants on and then if you accidentally get them on by some stroke of luck, well, the angry pterodactyl will take care of THAT thank you very much and take them off and throw them. Then, when the angry, nay FURIOUS pterodactyl is hustled up to her bedroom to cool off, there is a lot of door slamming and full on screaming.

Five minutes later, she returns. Except I'm not sure it's actually the one that was sent upstairs. Because this one lets me dress her and she even laughs. She chats away and lets me brush her hair and kisses me goodbye. "Have a great day, Dr. Jekyll!" I say as she leaves. And then I go upstairs and look for the portal to the alternate dimension where I'm SURE the angry pterodactyl is hovering, waiting for the moment when there will be evil panties to avoid once again.

Foot-BLAH

2007-09-12T13:39:00.000-06:00

As some of you might know, I LOVE fall. And since it is rapidly approaching, I’m thrilled. It reminds me of good things. Plus, I just love the crisp air and warmer clothes and changing leaves and pumpkin carving and hot cider. Fall + Amber = Love.

Last year in the fall, Chris and I started dating. Here's an example of last year vs. now.

2006: Chris and I would watch football while waiting for dinner in the crock pot to be done. We'd laugh and drink beer and be that newly dating couple whose main interest is the other person. I'd nap on the couch while he cheered on the team. There'd be a fire in the fireplace and fleece blankies. There might have even been some angels singing. Oh, love in the early stages. So sweet.

2007: I’ve pretty much had it with football already. I like to watch Bronco games, but that’s just the one game – a couple of hours and you’re done. Unfortunately, I didn’t figure on fantasy football. That means all football all the time, and when he's not watching the games, he's monitoring the fantasy site on the internet to make sure he's winning. Here is what was most certainly a very loving conversation we had Sunday evening, post-football.

Chris: “I’m BORED. Can we watch a movie?”
Amber: “I don’t feel like watching a movie. I’m watching Law and Order.”
Chris: “But you just watched Law and Order. Isn’t it over?”
Amber: “Yes, but it’s Sunday night – it’s on ALL NIGHT.”
Chris: “All night? Humph.”
Amber: “Humph? Really? Coming from the guy who watched football ALL DAY?”
Chris: “I did not watch football all day. We watched the Bronco game, which was a couple of hours, and then we watched Law and Order.”
Amber: “Were you in a time warp? We turned on football at 10:30 this morning, watched the Bronco game and about 90 brazillion other games, and turned on Law and Order – at FIVE THIRTY. That’s a good 7 hours of football. I’ve watched my show for one hour."
Chris: "Really? Huh. I wonder if I'm still ahead in fantasy..."

So yes, things might be different this year, but it doesn't diminish the fact that I still love watching football with Chris. If it's just the one game and also if he's actually sitting next to me on the couch instead of in front of his computer. I love him, even if he is obsessed. He's a guy -- I expect that. I'm crossing my fingers for next week though! Let's hope for just one game and actual sitting next to each other!

Things I've learned...

2007-08-28T15:09:00.001-06:00

…now that I’m a “parent”.

Turns out, dinosaurs aren’t actually extinct. They’ve simply been reincarnated in the form of children. For example, the shrieks of a four-year-old being woken up at 6:30 a.m. sound JUST LIKE what I believe a very angry pterodactyl sounded like. And I’ve had plenty of opportunities to witness this. Probably TOO many.

If you’re in the middle of say, Act I of “The Little Mermaid” and aforementioned four-year-old has to go to the bathroom, don’t panic. Don’t think about all of the OTHER shows you’ve been to and the inevitable loooong lines you’ve stood in during the intermission potty break. Reason that maybe some nice women would let you take the small child to the front of the line, but then remember that you’re at “The Little Mermaid” – you’re probably not the only one with an impending pee emergency. Simply check to see what the last song is before the lights go up for intermission, and begin channeling your inner linebacker. When the lights go up, shoot up from your seat, hustle the child to the end of the row and walk as quickly as possible to the nearest restroom. Turns out, if you’re good (like I totally am) you’ll not only get there first, but be able to use the handicapped stall, where it is much easier to supervise AND go to the bathroom yourself, after asking the child to please not open the door until your pants are buttoned. Not that that has happened before. Repeatedly.

I used to be that person who would hear a child screaming in Target and think to myself “If that were me, I would just leave”. Turns out, I wouldn’t. What I WOULD do is sort of bribe the kid to be quiet because gah, we just got here and I haven’t gotten anything on my list and I just don’t want to turn right back around and go home.

As soon as children get into the grocery store, it’s as if they are a starving, malnourished child from a 3rd world country who must have absolutely everything they see. Man, do I ever get tired of saying no. But simply not answering…I can get on board with that.

You might as well never vow to yourself “I will NOT be like my mother” because it is going to happen whether you want it to or not. As we get older it happens, and with kids, it balloons out of control. I’ve heard.

The Fair Police is the most annoying phenomenon EVER. If I have to hear “well she got more than me” or “she didn’t have to do as much as me” or what is quite possibly ONE KAJILLION other incarnations of that same sort of thing, I will scream. See: angry pterodactyl.

Sometimes taking away t.v. is more punishment for the parents than the kids. But you have to stick to your guns, even though what you’d rather do is shoot yourself for taking away t.v. in the first place – not that it’s a babysitter, per se, but sometimes it’s nice to have a break from the bickering or the stuff you told them not to do because it’s dangerous and they do it anyway and then there’s a lot of crying. Plus, I like to watch “Drake and Josh”.

Kids are like snowflakes – no two are alike. They could be related, they could be sweet, they could be many things. But they will most certainly react completely differently to every situation. Turns out, some kids laugh when you call them Poutyface Whinypants and others turn into Tantrum McScreamy because you’ve hurt their feelings, by god.

There’s more. Trying to teach kids manners and behavior is HARD. But in the grand scheme of it all, that pain in the ass stuff often falls by the wayside. Because there’s the time – like today - when they’re in Portland with Chris and Riley calls because she misses me. Or when it’s just Abby and I, and she of the never wanting to go to bed gets into bed with me, snuggles up to me and goes right to sleep. I remember those moments a lot more because I know that there’s going to be a day when they don’t want to snuggle or talk to us or tell us every miniscule detail about everything. So I guess I can endure the occasional pterodactyl/starving orphan/selectively deaf moments. But not the Fair Police. I draw the line there.

Of illness and Marilyn Manson

2007-08-20T11:12:00.001-06:00

I never thought I'd say the words "I watched a Marilyn Manson concert in it's entirety" but guess what? I watched a Marilyn Manson concert in it's entirety.

Chris and I were with some friends from work on Saturday night, and because we're all very dedicated to our jobs (or something) at the request of a client, we had to go check on the security situation at a jobsite near the concert. Those crazy-ass whippersnappers were climbing places that they shouldn't in order to get a gander at Mr. Manson - for free - and so we had to go make sure none of those idiots broke their necks on our jobsite. The six of us piled into a Tahoe to head out there and make sure our hired security guns were doing their jobs. As it turned out, they were, although the security guys were maybe 12. But they seemed to have things under control. We went up to the 13th floor of the building to make sure that the alleged sightings of teenagers climbing around where there aren't any actual WALLS yet were not in fact accurate, which they weren't. While we were there though, I realized that I have developed a sort of wicked fear of heights. Although I think I can attribute that to the fact that standing that high above the ground and looking down without the comfort of walls or windows might make anyone a little scared of heights. I'm just sayin'.

Anyway, we ended up going to the roof of a parking garage and watching the concert from there. Let me just say that I enjoy a concert just as much as the next person, maybe more, but boy was I glad not to actually be inside the venue. It was LOUD and also Marilyn Manson screams a lot. I am baffled that he still has a voice at all -- we were speculating that he HAS to have some sort of polyps on his vocal cords by now. Also we were amazed that the graphics he shows on the screen behind him were even allowed, especially all the drug-promoting ones during "The Dope Show". We then discussed our gout and how the impending change in season will most definitely have an adverse effect on our arthritis. Ha -- no we didn't, but seriously, when I was recounting the conversation I felt like we were elderly and whatnot. Those damn kids and their devil music.
After the concert, we headed out, while loudly ridiculing the outfits of the kids coming out of the concert - with the windows of the truck rolled down - because they were all so oblivious to us anyway. Especially the ones laying passed out in the grass -- they totally couldn't hear us.

On the way back to our friends' house, we stopped at a wine bar and proceeded to hang out until closing. Late enough? Of course not. One of the guys decided that 2:30 a.m. is a GREAT time to play poker, even though half of us had never played. Finally, Chris and I left and drove home -- a loooong way - and got to bed around 3:30 a.m. Seriously, I am STILL tired. Why why why am I so old that one night of staying up almost all night affects me for like a week? Sigh. Oh well -- it was worth it. We had a blast.

As far as illness, well, I realized last night that I think I actually have a genuine sickness. I believe the official name is latin or something, but translated, it means I have a difficult time leaving the little girls department of any store without buying one meeeellion dollars worth of clothes for the girls. I was shopping for outfits for the ladies for this weekend -- we're going to go see "The Little Mermaid" Broadway show on Saturday -- and I had to keep putting stuff back because let's be realistic here. I have to pay my mortgage and I think the bank frowns on excuses involving my inability to pass up adorable toddler clothing. I'm a sad, sad girl.

In other EVEN MORE trivial news, I realized today that I use song titles or lines from songs as post titles kind of a lot. 14% of the time, in fact. Yes, go ahead and say it -- nerd terror alert has been upgraded to a lovely shade of yellowy-orange. Like a delicious summer nectarine.

Totally sap-tastic

2007-08-17T14:13:00.000-06:00

Ok, so another one of my youth group kids has graduated and is leaving for college in Minnesota tomorrow. I mean, every year a few of them graduate, but each year it seems that there is one really special one. This year it's Margo -- one of THE coolest girls I've ever met. She's beautiful and fun and athletic and smart, and one of those girls who is up for anything. She doesn't worry about her hair or whether she'll look perfect -- if it sounds fun, she'll do it. She's totally loyal and a great friend -- she's thoughtful and remembers things about people she cares about. For instance, every year she visits family in Pelican Bay, and she always brings me something pelican-related back from there. Because as everone who knows me knows, I like pelicans.

Anyway, I decided I'd get pictures together from the last 4 years of trips together and make her a collage frame. I was at the craft store in the scrapbooking aisle finding cool stuff to put on the frame -- quotes about friends and things like that -- and I found myself getting all teary. A lot. I'd be like "oh, THAT will look SO COOL on the frame *sniffle*. I think she'll really like this *SNIFFLE*. COME ON. HOLD IT TOGETHER." So I managed to get all my supplies and I finished the frame last night. It is SO. AWESOME. Behold:

Now all I have to do is not totally lose it when I see her tonight to give her the frame and say goodbye. I know me, and I know that my odds? Are not good. I'll miss my girl.

In other news, I keep noticing that Abby and Riley are getting bigger. Last night I took Abby to get a present because she slept in her own bedroom for the first time EVER on Sunday night. I was so proud of her. So we're walking around Target, and the kid keeps READING things. I mean, it wasn't the cover of US Weekly (thank God -- can you imagine a 4 year old saying "What does 'My Twisted Night With Britney' mean?") but it was a word here and there nonetheless. She was sitting on my lap last night and I noticed how long her legs were, and then I saw her writing up a storm -- she used to only be able to write her own name, but now she can write mine and her sister's. *SNIFFLE*. My little monkey baby is growing up. As for Riley, well, she put on a pair of pants today and I was like "Um, you realize that those are waaaaaaay too short for you, right?" She did, but she just rolled them up into capris. Obviously they've been growing all along, but it seems to have snuck up on me. So ends the "mom" portion of this post.

Let's see, what else. We watched "Disturbia" the other night, and it was not stupid like I assumed it would be. Because I always assume all of the horror movies coming out are going to be stupid. It was similar to "Rear Window" which is my favorite Hitchcock movie, so I liked it. I wasn't as a big of a fan in the middle of the night when I had a bad dream (surprise, surprise) and developed a fear of the dark. I soldiered through it though.

Speaking of dreams, last night I dreamt that I had a meth problem.

Ok, since this entry is pretty boring, I'm going to take a page from Sundry and ask you: tell me your favorite or best story about a celebrity you saw or chatted with. I love stories like that.

Do it -- don't make me come after you!

Dream On

2007-08-13T09:28:00.000-06:00

I need to keep a dream analyst on retainer. Here are just a sampling of the elements of my dreams from this weekend:

-- I was looking for a vase – the perfect vase – at Wal-Mart, while simultaneously trying to avoid a creepy guy following me. He chased me to my mom’s and she protected me from him. My brother was there, only he was a little boy again. And I never did find that vase.

-- I saw a mirror fall off the wall in my mom’s room and crack in a bunch of places.

-- It was night and I was with someone (I don’t know who) trying to steal a key and break into a safe in an elementary school temporary building, but realized that we had turned on the lights and Snape would be able to see that from his room and come and catch us. We were running out of the temp when I realized that we left the key in the door of the safe, so we went back to return it to the desk drawer where we found it and were caught by my 7th grade science teacher. He was disappointed in me.

-- Remember that flying thing that Atreyu and Bastian ride in “The Neverending Story”? Falcor? I was riding him in one of my dreams – underwater. Only apparently he was a water buffalo.

-- The place that I was riding Falcor was cool – I was there with a bunch of the youth group kids and we were all in this HUGE, really deep lake. It was in this canyon, and we were surrounded on all sides by high rocky cliffs. The water was black, until Falcor swam underwater, and then it was clear.

-- People who appeared in my dream: P.I.C.; about four people from high school that I never even liked; the son of one of my dad’s high school friends; many of the youth group kids; and a bunch of random people, some I knew and some I didn’t.

-- I was at camp, at church, at Wal-Mart, at a lake, at my mom’s, at a school temp building, at a weird place that was a mix between the balcony of a theater and a school, Walgreens, my parents’ garage and also it was snowing in August

-- There was betrayal and judgment and failure and loyalty and fear. Like what might constitute a pretty good book, only so jumbled up that it would only sell to crazy people.

-- I was at some event and I wanted a roast beef sandwich, but all that was left was lamb and some other pretty gross looking sandwiches. I hate when that happens.

-- Chris told me that he wasn’t coming over to my house because we only got along 63% of the time when we were alone. I made him feel pretty bad about that when I woke up this morning.

So yes. This is what happens when I sleep. Friday night I woke up from the stalker dream and I was laying on my back with my teeth and my fists clenched. Ahhh, restful sleep. No wonder I’m always tired. Stupid brain.

An entry that pretty much makes no sense

2007-08-08T14:31:00.000-06:00

I was eating a sandwich today, and I had a total flashback to the summer after my freshman year of college. Weird, right? Allow me to 'splain.

The summer after my freshman and sophomore years in college, I worked at a flower nursery -- I was the watering girl. All this required was that I walk around a humongous nursery for 8 hours a day toting a hose, listening to my walkman (yes, walkman -- it was 1995) and getting a tan. This was a great job because, well, did you just read my description? Cake. Except for when I came to work after a slight incident involving lots of champagne and thought I might die right there in the bonsai greenhouse. Hangover + Heat + Humidity = Barfing. Ahem. Rainy days meant no work, and bonuses included getting honked at by pervs driving by when I was out front and flirting with the landscape guys. I also learned the names of many flowers and whether or not they were perennials or annuals and if they were sun or shade plants. Another bonus was this little bunny that followed me around the nursery -- he was pigeon-toed because the stupid landscape guys would throw rocks at them to cripple them so the foxes would get them. Because the bunnies ate the bark off of trees. But this bunny didn't get eaten by a fox and followed me around for two years. It was pretty cute.

ANYWAY, my point is that every day for the first summer I was there, I took my lunch. It consisted of pretzels, Chips Ahoy, and a sandwich -- made with turkey, pickle and lettuce. And I was eating that exact same sandwich today and it made me think of those days. You know, when my biggest concern was what I was doing with my friends that night and maybe hey, what's mom going to make for dinner? I was also a little concerned about getting my wisdom teeth taken out, but that turned out pretty ok. My mom rented me every movie starring my crush, Chris O'Donnell (again, it was 1995) and kept me fed with pudding and refried beans. And I had tylenol with codeine. Good times.

This stream of consciousness entry brought to you by the letter P -- as in Politics, Office. And the letter S - as in Stupid (see Politics, Office) and Stress (also see Politics, Office). Sheesh.

Notey note notes

2007-07-26T10:46:00.001-06:00

You know what? I really like work email. You know why? Because it's an awesome way for me to cover my ass. I cannot tell you how handy it is to have an email trail when someone is questioning whether or not you did your job correctly. "Of course I did what I was supposed to", I can say confidently "Here are some emails to prove it." Although I'm sure many of you already knew about the trail handiness, I just thought I'd reiterate, since I had cause to break it out yesterday.
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I always thought that when I had kids, I would want boys. Less drama, more adoration of their super cool mom. You know, important stuff like that. However, now that I have two little girls to dress and whatnot, well, I've changed my mind. I have the hardest time walking through somewhere like Target and not wanting to spend one meeeeeellion dollars on clothes for them. I had to actually go into the little girls' departments yesterday (even worse, Abby is still in toddler clothes, which of course is EVEN MORE ADORABLE) because they needed some items. The first thing I saw were plaid bermuda shorts in assorted colors with matching tops. I told myself no and I walked away. I then had to tell myself no about 4 more times because I couldn't stop looking at them. I went online today so I could post a link to the cutest capris that I bought for them, and instead, I found a pair of Curious George pajamas that I'm pretty sure Abby MUST HAVE. Because she is a little monkey. And I am an out of control freakshow.
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In other news, Janet tagged me to post 8 things about myself that people maybe don't know or might find shocking. After giving it some thought, I couldn't think of anything. Unless you count my above referenced lack of all control when it comes to dressing up the girls. I think I've regaled you with way too much information than you really needed in the past three years already -- so unless you have questions for me that beg to be answered, well, I'm just going to have to come to terms with the fact that I'm an open book. A decidedly un-shocking open book.
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In case you were wondering, if you dream about being at a pond and being chased by a bear, it means you have some aggression and are wallowing in negative emotions. I suppose that means I'm going to have to quit being so grrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRR about Chris' ex. I'll have to write more about her one day -- suffice it to say that I'm not her biggest fan. Not because of anything she and Chris have to work out -- he's a big boy and he can handle that however it works for him. I just think she's a shitty mother. And to me, if you care more about yourself than you do about your kids, there's something wrong there. That's just my opinion, and truthfully, it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. But I'm going to have to learn how to deal with her without it making me crazy, because I'm going to HAVE to deal with her for a looooong time.
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Chris and the girls and I are going to Winter Park for the weekend. My parents have a time share there, and we've been going there every year since I was a little tyke. However, this weekend, my parents won't be there -- they're coming up on Sunday to stay for the rest of the week because it's quieter during the week. Therefore, this is the first time I've been there without my mom and dad. The first time I sleep in the master bedroom, the first time I make a list of all the stuff to bring from home, the first time I'm in charge of groceries and meals. It's almost like I'm an actual grown up! I'll let you know how that foray into actual adulthood works, because clearly I don't spend a lot of time there on a regular basis.

What is WRONG with me?

2007-07-23T09:44:00.000-06:00

Apparently I was hit with a number of different spells this weekend once I purchased the new Harry Potter book. I started reading it late yesterday afternoon and all of the sudden, it was 8 p.m. So I was like "no problem, I'll read until 9:30 or 10". And then it was "ok, I'm don'e reading at 10:30." Then "Ok, 11. 11 tops." This went on until I finally finished the damn book at 2:30 a.m. I got to sleep for 4 hours until I had to get up for work. What is wrong with me? I'll tell you what -- SOMEONE must have placed an Immobulus spell on me, along with a Confundus, an Imperturbable, probably a Petrificus Totalus, and one I just made up, the "oh my god, am I really that big of a nerdalus?" The answer is yes, Nerdalus Totalus. Although, I will say it was worth it -- it wasn't just that I wanted to finish it in order to avoid the possible spoilers sure to be all over the internet today, but I seriously could not stop reading. I talked to Beth yesterday, who read the entire thing in six straight hours (I think it took me longer, but I can't be sure because I can't remember when exactly I started reading) and she even refused to give me her opinion until I read the whole thing, so as not to ruin anything for me. Also, the whole reason she called was to tell me about the new show "Scott Baio is 45 and Single" because we also have an enduring love of all things "Charles in Charge" - related. And HYPOTHETICALLY if I were going to really cement my - and Beth's - Nerdalus Totalus status (besides using made up "spells" to describe us) I would tell you that we used to write "Charles in Charge" Lost Episodes. Hypothetically. Anyway.

***********************
My mom was reading a book about the five senses to Abby on Saturday, and she said "Abby, what are the little hairs on your eyelid called?" and Abby said "Mustache?" And my mom and I started cracking up and my mom said "Nooo, it's eye...?" and Abby said "Eyestache?" And that was it for us.

***********************
You might remember back almost two years ago when my little car was rear ended by a large Expedition. I got it repaired, and sort of soon after that, my trunk stopped opening. I kept forgetting to get it fixed, but since Chris and the girls and I are going away next weekend, I decided I needed to get the trunk fixed in order to be able to carry all our stuff. So my mom took it to be fixed while I was gone and Yay! It worked for about a week until Friday afternoon I went to put something in it and it wouldn't open. Unfortunately, I had stayed at Chris' the night before, and therefore my overnight bag is locked in there. Makeup, hairbrushes and product, makeup. Clearly makeup is my first priority, however, since every time I go to Sephora or Ulta I usually spend 8 million dollars, I happen to have SOME back-up cosmetics. Like a whole drawer.
Again I ask, what is wrong with me? Anyway, tomorrow I have to go lay the smackdown on the service department and get my trunk fixed hopefully for real this time.

***********************
Ok. I suppose it's time to go fake doing work. Or more accurately, fake NOT napping.

What's my age again?

2007-07-20T10:26:00.000-06:00

I am thrilled to be home. I really missed my boyfriend (yep, I’m THAT girl) and my little people. That is inclusive of both Chris’ girls and my cats. Chris ever so sweetly volunteered to leave me alone at my house on Saturday when I returned from Montana, knowing that I am a person who needs quiet time alone like some people need air.

My parents were supposed to pick me up from church when we got back, and instead, left my car and car key with one of the parents waiting for their children, because there was some sort of pressing engagement across town that my mom and dad had to go to. Like Bass Pro Shop. Anyway, I realized as I was driving home that while I had a car key, I had no house key. So I went to my parents’ house (I can get in THERE because I know the garage code) and called my dad’s cell from there. The conversation was wholly unproductive and also managed to turn me into a small child.

“Hey dad – maybe you guys could have left me a house key”
“Did you TELL your mom that she should leave you a house key?”
“Well, considering that the car key she gave me was off of my keychain AT MY HOUSE, I guess I figured she’d go ahead and do that.”
“Well, you’ll just have to wait until we get home”
“Well when will that be?”
“About an hour and a half. We’re going to have lunch.”
(cue tears)
“But I want to go hooooooooome!”
“Maybe you should just take a nap”
“But I’m all dirty and sweaaaaaaatyyyyyy!”
“We have showers at our house”
“But I don’t have any clean clooooooooothes!”
“Too bad. You’ll just have to wait.”

I was pretty mad at my dad. So I thought to myself “maybe I WILL take a nap. On HIS side of the bed with my FEET on his PILLOW.” Because being at camp creates the absolute dirtiest feet ever, and the daily shower seemed to not do anything noticeable to fix that. Plus, there were no showers to be taken Saturday morning because we all wanted to get on the road. No showers+14 people in the van+95 degrees+I'm really tired= angry crying dirty person.

Anyway. I decided against that because I’m 31, not 10. Instead, I handled it like a mature 13 year old and when my parents got home (two hours later) I gave them dirty looks, didn’t say a word to either of them, and stalked angrily out of the house. Because I am nothing if not good at projecting righteous anger. Or something. Did I ever mention that I was an only child for a long time and sometimes the spoiled princess makes a surprise appearance?

Luckily, I got home, went straight to the shower and scrubbed my disgusting feet and took a nap. In clean clothes. And then, all was right with the world. Because I had a Corona with dinner.

On a brief hiatus from teenagers

2007-07-03T09:57:00.001-06:00

So I'm back for a limited time -- until Saturday, specifically -- at which time I head off for camp in Montana. Yay! Camp!

New Mexico was really f*&%ing hot. Nice language for describing a church trip, right? Actually, it wasn't as bad as all that. In fact, it was like staying at the Four Seasons, compared to previous years spent in Juarez. We were on the campus of what used to be a boarding school, but is now just a regular private school. And when I say private school, I'm not talking fancy like say, Hogwarts. Although wouldn't THAT have been an awesome place to do fix-ups? Yes. Anyway. It's a lower priced private school that is essentialy the one place where kids from that area can go to help keep them from the extremely dangerous public school environment -- and I say that without an ounce of sarcasm. Meth is a huge problem there, and the school is getting broken into constantly by druggies looking for stuff to sell for drugs. There were two break-ins while we were there, if that tells you anything. Another telling item was the sign in the cafeteria that said "Celebrate Survival". I don't know a lot of cafeterias that have that -- the sign had little handwritten notes on it from kids who had lost siblings to violence. Sad. But, the school provides a lot of opportunities for the kids, including sports and tons of scholarships, and most importantly, a safe place to get a good education.

We had an entire wing of a dorm to ourselves, complete with actual beds with actual mattresses and -- get this -- showers. Not just a cinderblock building with spigots coming out of the walls, or bathroom stalls with shower curtains, but actual real bathtubs and not only that? We had our own bathrooms attached to our rooms. We each had one roommate and two suitemates, and it was great! Air conditioning was not one of the amenities, but that was ok -- it was plush by mission trip standards.

As for the work, we spent the first three days tearing up a hardwood gym floor (that had been installed in 1932) and the last couple days doing outside grounds cleanup type work. I got to run a Skilsaw for the first time -- and not just your normal use-around-the-house saw, but the industrial type. I had to call my dad and tell him. I was pretty proud. I love using power tools, and mission trips are a great way to learn how to use them without ruining something expensive or important in your own house.

The staff at the school loved us, because our kids (as usual) busted their asses to get whatever done that they were asked to do. The school didn't think we'd finish the floor as quickly as we did, and they kind of had to scramble everyday to keep us occupied, because things just kept getting done almost as soon as they were assigned. It always makes me proud, because a lot of times, people assume that teenagers will be lazy or mess around all the time, and that's just not our group.

It wasn't all work though -- we had two half days of work, and on those days we went to Santa Fe and Bandelier National Park. We also visited Chimayo and in the evenings, spent a lot of time hanging out playing games, doing puzzles, stuff like that. It was really good.

So. I'm happy to be home, because let me tell you -- it gets a little crowded when you're in a 15- person van with 15 people in it for 6 or so hours. And also hot. Did I mention hot? Although I will say that being home isn't much better -- it was 80 degrees at 8 this morning, and close to 100 when I go home in the afternoon. I'm not complaining though -- it could be worse. Humidity, higher temperatures, and I could be working outside or stuck in a van with stinky boys or in a place with no a/c. So I'm good.

It's that time of year again!

2007-06-22T11:10:00.000-06:00

Yes, the annual mission trip. This year, we're going to Espanola, New Mexico to work on a school there. I would tell you more, but since we've never been there, I have no idea what exactly we'll be doing.

We leave Sunday, and I've already been getting MySpace messages and texts from the kids about how they're so excited and how fun it will be. It is going to be fun -- it always is and it's always a new adventure!

So I'll see ya when I get back!!

Even the elderly enjoy the occasional concert...of the elderly

2007-06-20T13:37:00.000-06:00

So Becki and I went to the "True Colors" tour a couple of weeks ago at lovely Red Rocks with a troupe of lovely gay boys. This worked out well, seeing as it was a sort of benefit concert for the Human Rights Campaign and for the Matthew Shepard Foundation and I would estimate that a large portion of the attendees were gay/lesbian/transgendered and/or drag queens. Please don't misunderstand my humor here for bigotry -- the aformentioned troupe of gay boys included one of my very closest friends from high school, his awesome boyfriend, and another couple of boys who I just love. And from the standpoint of people watching and just pure fun, you can't beat the crowd at this concert. More on that later.

Anyway, after the requisite unknown bands did their thing, Debbie Harry from Blondie came onstage. I was looking forward to her, sort of, because really, who doesn't like at least one Blondie song? From the 20th row, she looked pretty good. But then she started dancing. Wait, no, not dancing -- I'm pretty sure she was doing jazzercise. Do you know that she's 62? That's my parents' age -- and while I feel that my parents are pretty cool, I would NOT want to see my mom attempting to dance around on stage in a metallic silver miniskirt - which, I might add, was just one part of an ensemble including nude pantyhose and low heeled sandals. Yes, you heard me. It was painful. And to top it off, I'm pretty sure the audience could tell she was totally phoning it in, because everyone lost interest quickly and I'm also pretty sure I speak for the entire amphitheater when I say "WTF? Why did she not sing ONE Blondie song? NOT ONE." Humpf. Blondie is dead to me now.

Next up was Erasure, and of course they rocked. They sang every song I wanted -- "A Little Respect", "Chains of Love" AND "Oh L'Amour". Plus, Andy Bell is a graceful dancer. I could have totally done without the unknown bands and pseudo-Blondie and just had more Erasure.

In between each act, Margaret Cho came out and did stand up, and she was funny. Over the top and nasty, but funny. If you like that sort of thing, I highly recommend that you watch this. It's funny, and um, not safe for work or children.

Lastly, Cyndi Lauper came out and she was GREAT. Note to Blondie -- Cyndi's 54 and she looks absolutely fabulous, she dances well AND she knows enough to sing her old favorites -- I mean, she sang the "Goonies" song. She's aware that no one really cares about her new material, so she kept it to a minimum. I love her.

As for the people watching, well, how much time do you have? There was this one guy who was super skinny with very messy black hair and he was dressed in a red tank top and gold lame pants (that's "lam-ay", not "lame", althought truth be told, the pants were both). He also had shiny bronze gloves that went up to his elbows, and he was dancing around like a spazz. One of the boys with us is like "Um, just so you know, he is NOT representative of us. We're embarassed by him." Funny. There was also a guy there who looked like the typical preppy -- short blonde hair, khaki shorts, blue polo shirt, copper stiletto peep toe heels. You know, the usual.

We had a blast. Dancing and singing and laughing and people watching. It's times like that that remind me (again) how unbelievably fun and cool my friends are. SO fun and SO cool.

First, some pictures...

2007-06-19T09:01:00.000-06:00

...and then some words.
First, my girls -- at the Botanic Gardens, the park and the Zoo...

and my handsome boyfriend...

...and there was going to be a picture of me, but I decided to wait until I got my hair cut later today.

Anyway, the words for today consist of a small bit of news. I'm moving. Here's my house:

I have more pictures, which I will post if you so desire.

It's Chris' house, and it's pretty far away from where I live now. Which, on the one hand, really sucks, because I will no longer be two minutes from Kendra, seven minutes from Karen, and five minutes from my mom & dad. On the other hand, it works so much better for the four of us in that it's at least twice the size of my house now. I love my house, and it's perfect for one person, maybe two. But not four people and two cats. With just one t.v. I mean, I love Spongebob, but there's times when I'd really like to watch something else. The upside is that there's a yard and a place for the girls to ride their bikes, the downside is that there's no longer a pool within walking distance. Also, it's pretty much the kind of house I would have picked out. It's been for sale for a while, and we figured it'd sell and we'd get a different house somewhere in the middle. However, it hasn't sold, and so we decided we'd keep it for a while at least. The other upside is that it's 15 minutes from work, which is way better than the current 35-40 minute commute. And the main upside is that I get to live with Chris, although we basically already do -- it'll just be easier to live together in just one house.

So yes. That's the news for now. Stay tuned for the tale of Becki and I's recent concert experience. Fun times.

Aw, who am I kidding?

2007-06-18T09:17:00.000-06:00

I thought it was time to leave, but as it turns out, it wasn't. I'm back.

Can I promise regular posts? No, but then again, who can? Can I promise that I won't tell stories that are really only funny if you were actually there? No, but then again, who can?

When I closed down the blog, it was because I thought I was no longer interesting. Maybe I'm not, but I feel like I lost some of myself when I stopped writing.

I've been living in fear lately of that very thing -- losing myself. Losing myself into the realm of mom - I love Chris and I love the girls, and I love our little family. But no matter how happy I am in that realm, there was always the fear poking at the back of my mind -- am I losing something important here?

My biggest fear was that I would be phased out by my friends -- Becki, Beth, Karen and Kendra. It's stupid, because we've been through pretty much every possible life changing experience together and yet are still as tight as ever, but I was afraid that I would get so wrapped up in what it takes to raise two great little girls that I would no longer have anything in common with my friends who weren't wrapped up in that.

My fears were laid to rest last weekend, when Becki showed up for the weekend. I got to spend a lot of time with her -- just us -- and time with Karen and Kendra as well. I cannot tell you how much I needed that. As cliche as it sounds, it made me realize that as much as things change, some things will always remain the same. There will always be things that make us laugh and laugh and laugh -- waiver rancheros, anyone? -- and there will always be the songs that we know by heart (and sing at the top of our lungs). And what I forgot was that there will always be coversations about whatever is going on in our lives. In high school it was lamenting grades or boys or the unfairness of parents. In our early 20s, it was lamenting hangovers or new jobs, finding apartments and the unfairness of boys. In our late 20s it was lamenting mortgages and health and the fears of the impending future. As life evolves, we've evolved with it, both as individuals and as a group, but even if the subject is serious, there will always be laughter and there will always be good advice from the girls that love me the most.

So thanks to my girls for making me feel like I have balance in my life again, and to Chris, for understanding my fears and encouraging me to spend time with my friends.

So yeah. I'm back! Didja miss me? Because I have a lot of words that REALLY want to come out!

Closer to Fine

2007-02-10T20:45:00.000-07:00

I’m trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
And the best thing you’ve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously
Its only life after all...

-- Indigo Girls, "Closer to Fine"

I can’t really say more than that. That’s what I’ve gotten – tons of insight, advice, ways to take life less seriously. I’ve made some great friends – people I may or may not ever see, but people who I’ve gotten to know through words and things we’ve all published. Similar experiences that bonded us and showed me that I wasn’t alone in some of the stuff I was going through.

I’ll miss being here – laughing at things that could only happen to Marissa; finding out that if everyone has a clone in the world, mine is probably Cheryl; marveling at Dasi’s adventures from a previous life; Jill’s decidedly Jill-esque take on all things; Kris’s undeniable humor and spirit and a love for her cats that I as a fellow cat person can totally understand; Amanda’s openness and deep caring for people; the incredibly odd and yet laugh out loud HI-larity of Brad and Paul; the fuck you attitude and totally kind heart of Jenn; the mother of all great moms, Miladysa; and of course, the escapades of my girls, Kendra, Beth and Becki. Although that last one I still get to see, since we’ve been friends for 8 million years already. Anyway.

I’ve had some real life adventures with some of you – from beers in Breck with Eddie last spring and all the book recommendations that we’ve shared as fellow word nerds; to lunches with Tim and countless hours of wandering through the mall talking about nothing and everything.

So after a little over two years of sharing (and probably oversharing), it’s time to let go. I’ve gone from a job I hate and more time on my hands than I knew what to do with to a job I love and working 14 hour days and lots of weekends. I’ve gone from dating losers and weirdos and Not Boyfriend to dating Chris, who is pretty much the best I could ask for. I’ve gone through happy and sad and really up and despairingly down and through it all, I’ve had this as an outlet.

I might be back, I might not. I might be around the blogiverse, I might not. You guys know how to find me if you want to – so if you want to, well, I hope you do.

In the meantime, thanks for everything, and most of all, thanks for being with me. Thanks for bringing me closer to fine.

Much love,

It's not several times a week, but...

2007-01-31T17:22:00.000-07:00

...Since Eddie was lamenting the decline of the blog, I thought I'd regale you with another boring post.

I'm not sure what the deal is this winter, but I've been sick TWICE. I rarely get sick, I even got a flu shot this year, and yet? Sick. The first round was a cough that defied all over the counter cough medicine and would only respond to Robitussin with codeine, which was great. I'm a fan of the codeine. The most recent round started on Tuesday night and has resulted in body aches that defy all over the counter pain medication, as well as a fever and chills. It's so much fun, especially when I have about 5 big deadlines at work this week, therefore, I've dragged my ass into the office the past two days until today when they pretty much sent my outwardly sniffly ass home. I love when people are trying to be sympathetic and are like "Oh sweetie, you look like shit." I'm not sensitive enough to be offended by that, it just makes me laugh.

Stay tuned for future posts about my health -- I'll tell you all about my gout and arthritis. Neither of which I have, by the way, but isn't that what old people talk about?

Next week, I'm headed to somewhere in middle America for our annual company meeting, and so I've been shopping for clothes befitting the corporate marketing girl. Jeans are fine for the office, but at the meeting, jeans are not allowed. I'm also getting my hair colored before I go, because I can't be introduced to the entire company with ROOTS. Nobody wants to be that girl.

I had help with my clothes shopping this weekend - Chris' daughters were with me and his seven year old helped me pick out some stuff. It was pretty funny when she's looking at me very seriously and saying "That color looks GREAT on you". Too cute. The three year old helped me sign the credit card keypad, which resulted in my last name being completely illegible, but she wanted to help and I wasn't about to say no. Especially after she drew me a picture and even wrote my name on it. His girls are totally cute and sweet and we had a great time.

Anyway, that's about it for now. I'm going to heat up some soup and drink some Gatorade -- last night I had Chris here to take care of me, but tonight I'm on my own. I'll have to actually get up off the couch when I want something. Hmmph.

Stuff about things

2007-01-24T06:33:00.000-07:00

So Chris took me on a date the other night to this restaurant called Opus. I had heard from multiple sources that it was delicious and had excellent service, so of course I wanted to go. As it turns out? My sources were NOT kidding. Best dinner I think I’ve ever had. We started with cocktails, and when I was perusing the wine list, I believe I let out a little squeal when I saw that they had my favorite wine ever – a wine I haven’t seen in sooooooo long. And a wine that I just finished calling around to find. I’ll be going to buy a few bottles in the very near future. Anyway.

I won’t get into too much detail, but let me just say a few words: Seats by the fireplace, filet mignon, lobster Wellington (buttery lobster in a flaky pastry shell? Are you kidding me with this deliciousness?), and some sort of dessert in which they put chocolate torte in a bowl with strawberries and raspberries, cover the top of the bowl with a dark chocolate shell and then pour hot chocolate soup over it, melting the chocolate shell. I kind of wanted to smuggle the bowl home where I could lick every bit of chocolate off it in peace. I didn’t do it though. But I wanted to. But I didn’t. It was the best date – not to be all “Ha ha – I have the best boyfriend!” – but I totally have the best boyfriend. See, I didn’t even say ha ha.

Guess what? It snowed this weekend. What a novelty.

I hate pigeons. I realize that some people think they’re cool and keep them as pets of a sort and I’m sure carrier pigeons are very impressive, but the pigeon that lives outside my bedroom window is neither cool nor impressive. Unless you define impressive as a loud ass bird who feels the need to coo loudly and incessantly every morning before I’m ready to wake up. I’m not even sure that “coo” is the word to describe it. “Coo” insinuates that the noise is soft and maybe a little sweet. This pigeon noise is not soft or sweet. It makes me want to break my window and beat that damn bird to death with a bat. I won’t, mostly because I don’t feel like paying for a new window. I mean, because I totally don’t believe in animal cruelty. Stupid pigeon.

I’ve been filling in with our band at church for the past two weeks and it’s been totally fun. What was not fun was Sunday when we were doing a song and I completely forgot every damn note I was supposed to sing. I made up a few and tried not to sound totally out of tune, but I’m thinking to myself “I was practicing this perfectly less than an hour ago. Have I lost my mind?” In my defense, the other girl who sings with us was sick and so I didn’t have her harmony to build off of. And also no sheet music. That’s my excuse. However, if there was one thing I’ve learned in all my years of performing, it’s to never let your face betray a mistake. So I pretended as if everything was fine, and NO ONE NOTICED. Not even my mom, and she ALWAYS catches even my minute mistakes, because she’s listened to me so often. I couldn’t believe it.

I’m officially hired AND promoted at my job. And I got a raise. Hopefully by the end of the month I can move into my permanent office and have a phone and everything. Although I feel pretty official – I got a hard hat and business cards. Clearly it takes very little to make me feel official at my job. Stay tuned for what can only be a fascinating recap of the upcoming company meeting in which we fly to a less than desirable destination and sit in meetings from 8-5 for two straight days. Apparently there will be no easing me into the actual corporate world – they’re throwing me in headfirst. I’m ok with that though.

And so ends the Amber update. I’m going to check on my pathetic black cat – the pads of his left paw are totally swollen and so he’s gimping around as if he might soon need an amputation. I would be more worried, but it’s happened before and the world’s best vet couldn’t find anything wrong with him, so she bandaged his foot so he couldn’t lick it. That was effective, and also humorous, as he would hop around and shake his foot every once in a while in a vain attempt to shake the bandage off. It wasn’t humorous however, when he would shake his paw unexpectedly in the vicinity of my face, whacking me so hard that I seriously thought I’d get a broken nose or black eye. I think he’s fine – he looks very pathetic when he knows I’m looking, but I’ve also seen him jumping off the bed and bounding through the house, so I’m thinking amputation won’t be necessary.

If you give a mouse a snow day...

2007-01-11T13:05:00.000-07:00

If you haven’t been living under a rock, you may have heard that Denver has gotten some snow over the past few weeks. If by some, you mean “85% of our normal snowfall and March and April are the snowiest months”. I’d like to say a couple of things here. One is that if the past month is just a taste of what our “snowiest months” will bring, well, we’re screwed. The other thing is that actually, besides being tired of snow in general, I’m pretty tired of staying home.

The first blizzard was a novelty. I didn’t have to go to work, Chris came home early, and we spent the next couple of days in our pajamas watching t.v. and taking naps. It was pretty fun. The second blizzard I kind of groaned about because Chris was out of town and so I had no one to amuse me while I was snowed in. Didn’t have to go to work, watched t.v., took naps, read a lot. Eh, whatever. Third time, I was like “you have GOT to be KIDDING me.” Chris was still out of town and frankly, I was tired of being trapped in my house. I didn’t have to work and I was bored out of my mind.

I talked on the phone to my mom a lot, and during one of our many long conversations about nothing, she suggested that I put my oven on self-clean, because it would add some warmth to the house and I wasn’t going anywhere anyway. I did, and that’s when the madness set in.

Have you ever read the book “If you give a mouse a cookie”? It’s basically saying that if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll want some milk, and then each thing you give him makes him think of something else he wants until it comes full circle and he wants a cookie again. Everyone has done it – you paint a room and then decide that you need new curtains. The curtains look great, but now the bedspread looks kind of icky. A new bedspread means new throw pillows, etc. etc.

This was what happened to me when I put the oven on self clean. I decided I’d just clean off the top of the stove and it snowballed into cleaning the counters and the sink and the floor. Not just the everyday kind of cleaning, but BIG TIME cleaning. After cleaning out the fridge and reorganizing the pantry, I then moved onto my bathroom (which included using an old toothbrush on the grout and the baseboards and the dusting off of the lightbulbs, among other things), the guest bathroom, the living room and my bedroom. It took me most of Friday and some of Saturday, but was it ever tidy. The whole house had awesome vacuum tracks, which to me just says “clean”. And luckily, there weren’t even pine needles anymore, as my brother finally rescued me from my personal Christmas tree hell. The best part was that on Friday night, “The Princess Bride” was on – twice – and so I could listen to it as I compulsively cleaned and said the lines to myself. Actually, the best part was all of my cleaning supplies, but I thought saying that the movie was the best part made me sound less lame. Did it work?

It’s supposed to snow tomorrow, and so now I’m wondering what the hell I’m going to do if I have to stay home all day.

Hi, I'm Amber. Have we met?

2007-01-03T21:46:00.000-07:00

I was just wondering seeing as how I haven't really been around lately. For which I apologize. Profusely.

So this is my third attempt in the past week or so to write an entry that isn’t so mundane and boring that I put everyone to sleep and then when I read back over it I think “Whaaa?” Nobody likes to look at stuff they’ve written and think “Whaaa?” Am I right? That being said, here's to hoping that I didn't just jinx myself into a completely mundane and boring post.

So. Merry Christmas! Hmmm. A little bit late for that. Sorry. Hope you all had a good one! I did – and I got tons of great stuff because as we all know (and have come to terms with), I’m spoiled – but of all of them I have three favorites. The first was a set of beautiful crystal champagne flutes from Chris, which he thought of with no help or hints from me. So awesome. I will now spend the rest of my life being totally paranoid that somehow they’ll get broken. It’s the gift that keeps on giving! The second was a book that Karen made of our Vegas pictures. Also so awesome. And the third one was this totally cute thing Sally got me in Mexico. In other holiday news, I am still chock full of Christmas spirit, and the reason I know that is because my Christmas tree is still up. Yes. Up and merrily shedding pine needles EVERYWHERE. There are no longer decorations on it, just a seemingly endless supply of needles. Neeeeeeedllllllllllles. You see, Chris went out of town right after Christmas, and therefore, I have no one to help me get the stupid thing out of the stand. This is a time when the cats are just no help at all. I called my brother to see if he’d help me, but apparently it wasn’t something that interested him as I haven’t heard back from him. For five days. And my dad can happily shovel practically his entire neighborhood out of three or four feet of snow (twice), but somehow helping me with the tree is pretty low on his list. My mom called tonight to see if maybe I wanted him to come over and help me get the tree out of the stand and onto my balcony (because the other issue is that due to near constant blizzards, I’m fairly certain they haven’t emptied the dumpsters here forEVER, hence, where to put a six foot tree?) but I was like “no thank you – I’d rather not have needles strewn to hell and back-- I mean anywhere they don’t need to be.” I’ll just wait until Chris comes home on Saturday. “HihoneyIreallymissedyou (breath) fortheloveofallthat’sholypleasegetrid (breath)ofthisdamntree!” I had to take a lot of breaths because of the level of hysteria I'll probably be experiencing at that point. Because of (in case I haven't mentioned it) the neeeedlllles. Ahem.

Today I got an email about a meeting on Friday from one of the guys I work with. The time was 10:00, and the location? DOA. Huh. Never been to a meeting like THAT before. So I went into his office and said “Did you reserve a room for our meeting on Friday?” And he said “No – could you get one?” And I said “Sure – but when you put ‘DOA’ on the email, did you really mean ‘TBA’? Because there’s kind of an important difference there.” And he said “No, I meant DOA – Denver Area Office.” I said “No, that’s DAO. DOA is totally different, and really, not the kind of meeting I want to come to.” He laughed, I reserved us a room that will hopefully not cause any of us bodily harm.

So I think that’s about it for now. If you’re still hanging around here even though I haven’t written in almost as long as it’s been since they picked up my trash (and seriously, that has been a loooooong ass time) I thank you. And I swear that in 2007 I will write more. Swear.

Reasons I'm a lazy blogger

2006-12-12T21:56:00.000-07:00

So. I got my tree, and it only took me a week to finally finish decorating it. It was sort of a fiasco. First of all, we were a little lazy in going to get it in the first place. We planned to do it on a Friday, but ended up going out to dinner instead. We were going to get it the following day, but it was really snowy, and so we decided to rent movies and stay inside in our pajamas all day. So I was determined to get it on Sunday, although there was only a small window of time because I had a really busy day. So I picked out the tree – quickly, which is no small feat for me, what with the OCD-I-need-the-perfect-shaped-tree-that-doesn’t-cost-one-meeeellion-dollars tendency that I have. Chris hauled it up the stairs, we situated it perfectly in the stand, sat down on the couch and pretty much watched it fall over. Pine needles and water EVERYWHERE. Turns out, the (old) stupid tree stand was easily broken. So I left to go to my church event (without vacuuming, because I didn't want to risk breaking the vacuum by sucking up wet pine needles) and he went to go buy a new tree stand. I rushed home after I was done – all I could think about was vacuuming up that plethora of needles off the floor – and we re-set up the tree. I couldn’t deal with anymore tree stuff that day – I knew the lights were my next trouble, and I did NOT have the energy for THAT. Good thing, too, because when I got out the lights the next day, they didn’t work. I bought new ones and then I didn’t buy enough. FINALLY, I got enough lights, and I situated them on the tree how I liked them and put on the garland and the strategically placed ornaments. I love how I can turn a simple holiday activity into a weeklong task. Sad, really.

As I was getting out the ornaments, I remembered one of my favorite things about Christmas – the White House Ornaments. My former boss started a tradition of giving me one each year, and she called today to make sure she had my address so she can send me this year’s. I’m so excited – I’m a big fan of ornaments that mean something. I have ones on my tree from when I was really little and ones that represent family members – I totally think a tree is more about the history of the person/family than just about being pretty. Although I am sitting here in the dark with the tree lights on and it IS so pretty.

In other news, I have a job. Like a permanent, benefits-and-everything JOB! Not only am I getting hired by my company, but I’m getting promoted. The lady who is currently the marketing director is moving into a new job and so as of the new year, I’m going to be the NEW marketing director. I’m really excited – and sorta scared. I love my job and I really like the people I work with, so I think the fear will dissipate, because they clearly have confidence in my abilities.

Speaking of work, Chris and I went to the company party on Saturday night, which was really fun. It was a fancy “cocktail attire” party, which was a new one for me, because we didn’t have fancy schmancy parties at my old job. I got a mani and pedi and even got my hair done – just for fun. I felt like I was going to prom. We went to the cocktail hour, had a really nice dinner and champagne toast, and then called it a night. We stayed at the hotel where the party was, which was also fun, because I love staying in hotels.

So that’s pretty much that. My two year blogiversary was last Thursday, and I was totally planning to end the blog. However, I can’t seem to let go yet. I know I haven’t been keeping up very well, what with having an awesome boyfriend and also an awesome job where I’m actually busy 90% of the time. Plus, I feel like I have nothing to talk about. At any rate, I’ll try to update when I can. Way to commit, right?

Things you may or may not have wanted to know

2006-11-30T12:41:00.000-07:00

So. I’ve started writing this post about a billion times, but always delete it after a couple of tries because apparently? I’ve lost all ability to write.

Anyway. My boy. His name is Chris (he gets no nickname, because I’ve mentioned him by name already here – you know, because it didn’t occur to me then that we’d end up together) and we’ve been together a little over a month. Sandra Dee wanted to know what our first three dates were, and I’m actually not sure. I know the first time we went out, the first time we kissed, and the second time we went out, but as for an actual “date”, I don’t know. We go out to dinner and breakfast and lunch and he mostly always pays (which is totally nice), so maybe those were considered dates. Who knows.

The thing is, we were totally comfortable around each other from the very beginning. The first time he came over, we sat and talked forever. And that pretty much hasn’t stopped. If we’re not together, we talk on the phone all the time – and our conversations last for like an hour. We were watching a movie at home last night, and we pretty much missed the whole thing because we got to talking about something. I’ve told him more stuff in a month than I’ve told pretty much anyone I’ve dated over the entire course of our relationship.

That’s probably one of the things that attracts me to him. The fact that we can talk and we are actually friends, not just “dating”. He makes me laugh and he’ll be silly with me, which is important – I can’t be with someone who takes themselves totally seriously. He’s got beautiful blue eyes and really long, dark eyelashes, which is also a plus. He calls when he says he will, he makes me a priority, and he tells me all the time how beautiful and how great I am. Seriously, who doesn’t love THAT?

It’s a strange situation, because while things have gone pretty fast, it’s also kind of slow, if that makes any sense. Like we spend all of our free time together pretty much, but no one is in a hurry to rush to the next level, whatever that might be.

I know he’s occasionally freaked out about stuff, which is fine because he always tells me about it. And when I freak out, I can tell him. That’s a good thing. It’s funny, because often times what I freak out about is him just leaving without warning one day (gee, can’t imagine where THAT fear came from), but at the same time, I also freak out a little bit that he WON’T leave and we’ll be together for a long time. Yes, I’m an idiot. It’s not that I don’t want to be with him, because I do, it’s just been a long time since I’ve dated someone long term and it’s kind of a scary pool to jump into again.

For now, we just go one day at a time. Actually, he told me that I can make concrete plans for this quarter, and we can talk about next quarter. Which is fine and also totally makes me laugh. So our plans are basically to spend as much time together as we can. He stays at my house pretty much all the time (and no, he’s not homeless – he has a house) and I’ll tell you what else is weird in a cool way. His contact case and toothbrush in the bathroom. His shirts hanging in the closet. His clothes mixed in with mine in the laundry. It’s nice to have his presence there even when he’s not.

So. As far as plans go, we're going to get a Christmas tree tonight so that he can watch me obsessively vacuum up pine needles for the next month...I mean, so we have some Christmas Spirit. In a couple of weeks, he’s going to be scrutinized by people at church when he goes with me on Christmas Eve, and also checked out by Sally and Joe and that whole crew when we go over there on Christmas Day. Sounds fun, right? He’s cool though – he can handle it.

Did I mention that he’s the best ever?

Thanks (and Thanksgiving) comes early

2006-11-20T17:16:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday, I went to our annual early Thanksgiving dinner at John and Karen’s. This is the third year that they’ve hosted it, and it is one thing that I look forward to all year. Most of our friends from high school are there, and we all bring side dishes and dessert. John and the boys hang out in the garage, where they drink beer, deep fry the turkeys and talk about manly stuff. Karen and Kendra and the girls and I hang out in the kitchen, making sure everything else is getting cooked and also drinking delicious cocktails.

We eventually sit down to dinner, and no one is allowed to sit next to their significant other (that means Kendra and I sit far away from each other—HA!) and we dig into the piles and piles of food. It’s funny, that in three years, everyone has a specialty that the rest of the group looks forward to. Kendra makes the green bean casserole with the crispy onions on top, Kelly makes a spinach and cheese casserole, and I make sweet potatoes with a little bit of Jack Daniels and a lot of pecans and brown sugar on top. Karen sets a beautiful table, with the good china and pretty centerpieces, John picks out the wine, and Jim and Sean provide a large part of the hilarity. We eat ourselves silly, and then we sit around and laugh at each other’s stories. It’s so funny that even after knowing each other for 15 or so years, there are still stories that we haven’t heard. And then there are the stories that we tell over and over because they’re just that funny. Whatever it is, we laugh our asses off, making our stomachs hurt even more. We also made the decision this year that NEXT year is a pajama Thanksgiving – that way we’re more comfortable when we’re finished being gluttons. How sad is that? Pretty sad – and yet so very awesome.

The evening wouldn’t be complete without someone having some sort of “incident” – if by “someone” you mean “me”. Yes, I may or may not have singed off the hair on my right arm. This was after we totally overflowed the pot of potatoes, extinguishing the gas flame under the pot, so Kendra and I were moving the pot to another burner. I apparently thought it would be a good idea to turn on the burner FIRST and THEN move the pot, and hence, the burned off arm hair. I also couldn't seem to remember that the handles of the pot were hot. Neither could Kendra, so at least I wasn't alone there. I think part of the problem also could have been us laughing and trying (unsuccessfully) not to call attention to the kitchen tomfoolery.

At one point, I looked around the table and it was like one of those movie moments when the characters experience this moment of complete contentment as they realize how lucky and blessed they are to have such a wonderful group of friends.

And that? Is just one of the many things I'm unbelievably thankful for this year.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

*EDIT* Since you seem to be a little bit curious about My Boy, go ahead and leave your questions in the comments section and I'll answer them in my next post. Because I may be a blogtator, but I'm a pretty benevolent blogtator...

Best Ever

2006-11-13T08:11:00.000-07:00

So I pretty much had the best weekend ever, and yet? I didn’t do much besides take naps and basically hang around in my pajamas. If you know me but at all, you know that whenever I’m home, I’m probably wearing pajamas. I love them – I have shelves full of pajama bottoms and t-shirts. Anyway. That’s really neither here nor there.

I slept better the past three nights than I have in at least two weeks. Which is strange, because I don’t generally sleep well when there is someone else in my bed. I’m so used to sleeping alone that the addition of another body throws me off. Also, I don’t like to be snuggled or touched very much when I’m trying to actually sleep. However, in this situation, the opposite is true. I sleep through the night when he’s here and I like to sleep as close to him as I can.

I haven’t written about him because I’m afraid of jinxing it. I’m afraid that he’ll freak out and leave me one day with no explanation – not because that’s how he is (because he’s not) but because it’s happened so many times before. So there’s that aspect. But I also haven’t written about him because I didn’t know what to say. I know what I FEEL but that’s not such an easy thing to translate into writing – I either sound like a sap or else the words don’t say what I mean them to. Or both.

What I will say is that yesterday was a cloudy, cold day. I got home from church and we hung out on the couch in our pajamas, watching football with the fire going. Ok, he watched football, I slept on his lap. I woke up and the house smelled like the pot roast I was cooking in the crock pot. We went to bed early and laid there talking for an hour, then went to sleep. Five a.m. came too soon, but I slept totally peacefully all night.

He’s the best ever – and yes, I realize that I sound like a sap.

My brain seems to have frozen up

2006-11-07T21:52:00.000-07:00

I have the most massive case of writer's block EVER. Seriously. I've started about a brazillion posts and I can never get the words out that I want to.

I have tons of thoughts going through my head -- in fact, that's pretty much why I've barely slept for a week. It's gotten so I kind of dread going to bed, because I know I'm just going to wake up in the middle of the night and have a hard time going back to sleep. This is completely unlike me, as I love to sleep. I love it so very much. I wish my brain would remember that and shut the hell up.

I think part of the problem is that recently, I've had a hard time thinking of the right thing to say. Last week was rough, and for the first time ever, I found myself at a true loss for words. It's frustrating, especially when you want so badly to say something, but nothing comes to mind that is remotely helpful.

Every once in a while, I go through phases where I feel quiet. I don't have a lot to say because I've got other stuff on my mind. Not bad stuff necessarily, just stuff. People always assume I'm upset, because my mouth isn't going a mile a minute, but I'm not. I just feel quiet. That could be a part of the block as well.

As for the job situation, they're keeping me until November 19, which is the end of the fiscal year, and then they'll revisit it and make a decision. Oh good. That means another two weeks of stress over whether I'm going to be unemployed. This is also contributing to my lack of sleep.

All of that being said, I will say this. No matter what happens, I know that I have people in my life that love me, and that is more important than anything else. People who take good care of me, think about me, and make sure I know that I'm loved. I know things will work out -- I just have to trust that and keep moving forward.

Auuggggaaaaahhhh!! You know, for lack of a better title.

2006-11-02T10:48:00.000-07:00

So I can’t remember if I told you this when I got my new job, but I’m a contractor. This is great in many ways, because my schedule is really flexible and when I work lots of hours, I get paid for lots of hours, instead of a flat salary. This is bad, because if there’s nothing for me to do, I don’t get paid and also I don’t get benefits. The worst part is that I’m easily expendable.

On Monday, the big boss of the office got the boot and was replaced by another guy in our office. So this week has been sort of interesting as people start to adjust and all that. The question is, will the new boss get rid of people who are expendable? You know, like me?

At first I wasn’t that concerned, because I heard that they were still lobbying to not only keep me, but also to hire me permanently. Then I was talking to my co-worker/supervisor this morning and she was saying that stuff is starting to slow down and that maybe there wasn’t enough work to justify having me. And even though we had talked about me learning some other skills, THAT’S not a sure thing either now. Apparently they’re going to talk about me on Monday when they have their weekly management meeting.

Monday. So that’s another four days for me to freak out. Because, yes, maybe I’m freaking out a little bit. I’m not sure if the situation justifies tears yet, but believe me, they’re waiting in the wings for their cue to come spilling out. Because as we’ve discussed previously, a) I’m a baby and b) tears are how I express pretty much every emotion. Anyway.

The reasons that this possible job-losing sucks are many. Besides the whole “not working” thing, I mean. Seriously, I had four months off and by the end, I was getting pretty bored. I don’t want to not work again. I never thought I’d hear myself say that I’m tired of not working, but I am. Secondly, I love my job. I love what I do and the people I work with are cool and I like going to work every morning. And thirdly, my first concern is always paying my mortgage. The extraneous stuff is no big deal – I could give up some of that stuff, but I don’t want to give up my house. I love my house. I always have the option of getting a roommate, but there’s also the fear of finding someone who’s not a psycho, since I had that one bad roommate situation back in the day. Plus, no one likes living with strangers. Gah. And Ack.

Anyway, I’m going to sit here and try to think about something else so that I can at least get through this day without worrying myself into, um, I don’t know , more worry? The good thing is, you’d never KNOW I was freaking out. Because outwardly, I'm pretty much my usual self. Unless you happened to maybe wander into my house later this evening and I’m face down on the floor, bawling. Not that that would happen. And not that most of you know where I live. And I certainly don't leave my front door unlocked. But that's neither here nor there. I’m just sayin’. Hypothetically.

Dispatch from Babyville

2006-10-30T10:54:00.000-07:00

No, I’m not talking about actual babies, I’m talking about the fact that I’m a big baby.

I have a confession to make – I can’t watch scary movies. I mean, I can, but only if I want to have nightmares and not sleep at all. I love “The Sixth Sense”, but since I live alone, I can no longer watch it. I tried, and I had to turn it off. I can watch CSI with no problems – doesn’t bother me at all. But I can’t really watch CSI: Miami. When it first came on, I was all excited, because who doesn’t love an extra night of CSI every week. But then I started having horrible nightmares about burned up bodies and horrible death every Monday night, so I stopped watching. I probably would have anyway, because I can’t stand Horatio Caine and the incessant taking off and putting back on of the sunglasses. And the fact that every damn case is personal for him. And that -- wait. What was I talking about?

Oh yes. The issue I have with an overactive imagination added to living alone equaling my fear of the scary movies. Let’s try to keep me on track here, shall we?

P.I.C decided the other night that he wanted to watch scary movies in honor of Halloween. I agreed, because I’m an idiot. I mean, I’m a good friend. And it sounded fun – we were going to watch some bad, old scary movies. Plus, I figured if I drank enough, I wouldn’t remember the scary parts. So see, I had some theories I was hoping would work. The problem was, I was housesitting in a really big house, which I had to go home to – ALONE – and so I couldn’t drink enough to make me unable to drive home. Maybe my theory was flawed.

We started off with “Evil Dead”, which initially was great. The scariest parts were the “hero’s” monobrow, the horrible dialogue, and pretty much the plot in general. Then it was kind of funny when one of the stupid chicks got assaulted by the forest. But then she turned into a zombie demon thing, and that still wasn’t bad, because the makeup was also really lame. But then this other girl turned into a zombie demon thing and the makeup was still really bad but also scary and clearly when she was getting chopped up, it was a dummy, but the makeup was still freaking me out. Finally, I couldn’t stare at the bubbles in my champagne glass anymore in avoidance of looking at the t.v., and so I whimpered to P.I.C. about how I was scared and could we watch something else? So we watched “The Devil’s Rejects” instead. It was not scary. There was a lot of shooting and blood and swearing, which I’m totally ok with. That, coupled with the totally predictable dialogue made it ok for me to watch. Until I fell asleep. See, clearly I wasn’t that traumatized by it. And I didn’t have any nightmares.

The moral of the story is, I will perhaps watch a scary movie again. As long as I have someone to watch it with, who will then sleep over. For at least a week. Just kidding. Ok, no. Not kidding. I’m a baby – have we not established that yet?

Most expensive lunch ever

2006-10-24T09:47:00.000-06:00

Mandy and I were the designated food runners the other day, and we ordered a bunch of stuff from Sonic. Our total?

“That’ll be 25 million and 21 cents.”

Mandy and I laughed until we were crying. We’d stop and then one of us would start again and we could barely contain ourselves when the guy came out to bring our food. The topper? His name was Timmy. We still can’t decide if he was fucking with us or if he really isn’t so good at the maths. Either way, it totally made our day. We’re going to be laughing at this for at least, oh, 25 million and 21 days.

You might be my type

2006-10-19T14:25:00.000-06:00

Ok, so I’ve half-jokingly discussed what my type is, but let’s half-seriously talk about it now.

When I say that I like the emotionally unavailable or attract the newly-divorceds, it’s because I like to help people, to make them feel better. It’s true, I am a good listener. I’m everyone’s shoulder to cry on, and I like that. I like to take care of the people I care about – if you are sad, I’m your girl. I’m also a really great secret keeper. I used to suck, because I had this compulsion to tell everyone everything I knew. It was like Tourette’s, only with more secrets and less swearing. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started being a lot better about not airing my (and more importantly, other people’s) dirty laundry. Anyway. So yes. I am here to take good care of you. Example: when we were not dating, I was everything Not Boyfriend needed. He was everything I wanted. Clearly a large obstacle there, but as it turns out, we made it through the ups and downs and now? I still talk to him all the time. I’m the one he calls with his funny stories and when he’s bummed out or missing home, because he knows I’m the one who totally gets him. Mission accomplished. Maybe not the mission I orginally thought I was embarking on, but the situation has yielded more good than bad. Always a plus, don't you think?

But that’s not what we’re talking about here. We’re talking about my type. I also tend (sometimes unconsciously) to choose boys who I know are either geographically or emotionally unavailable, because that’s safety for me. That way, I retain my independence and don’t have to look commitment in the eye. Because even though I WANT to be with someone so badly, having it actually happen is scary as hell for me. I’d like to think I’m getting better at it, because at least recently, I’ve learned to spell “commitment” correctly. I know that sounds stupid, but for the girl who can spell anything? I could not spell that word for the life of me. Beth calls me “the Freudian speller.” Ha.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t specifically choose who I like by whether or not they live close to me, or whether there’s a good possibility that nothing will come of the relationship because I’m just their rebound girl. But in the interest of time, here’s the basics of what I actually look for in a guy:

Funny, which I don't really need to explain
Smart -- and this doesn't necessarily mean someone highly educated, just someone who is intelligent
A good conversationalist – there has to always be something to talk about without it being boring or worse, a struggle
Willing to answer my myriad of questions about them
Also interested in knowing about me, not just superficially
Affectionate, because I am
Kind – not just a nice guy, but a truly kind person

Is big on family -- his own and the one we might possibly have together
Can hang with the people from each completely different aspects of my life
Likes kids and animals, because let’s face it, that’s a giant part of my life

As far as looks go, I like a hot guy just as much as the next girl, but if you have the above qualities, there’s a good chance I’m going to be attracted to you. If you also have dark curly hair, nice teeth and pretty eyes, well, please marry me. Um, but you're going to have to move to Colorado first, ok?

If I ever lose my faith in you

2006-10-15T13:14:00.000-06:00

I'm losing my faith in people at a rapid pace.

Assorted words

2006-10-06T16:25:00.000-06:00

So I wrote this last weekend, but posted other stuff this week instead, so that's why some of the items have updates. Yes, I am a dork.

I went to one of my girls’ homecoming games Saturday to see her perform with the Poms. She was great, but I gotta tell you – again with the Color Guard. I was there with another one of my girls and we could NOT stop laughing. They had on white t-shirts and denim shorts and – wait for it – black tennis shoes with no socks. For the love of all that’s holy, BLACK TENNIS SHOES? I mean the whole outfit is bad, but come on. And there was one girl who had on super short shorts that were riding up in the middle. Really. Bad. She was, um, stocky, as many of the girls on the team are, and it was cellulite-tastic. I just wonder if these girls look in the mirror and are like “It’s the biggest game of the year and DAMN! I look GOOD!” Sigh. I just don’t understand. I also don't get how their parents let them leave the house in stuff like that. And unfortunately for the team, the outfits were not redeemed by their skill. At all.

And so ends the totally judgemental portion of this entry. Hey, I can't be all introspective and philosophical all the time, right?

Wait, wait. I have one more judgy thing to say. I'm supposed to sing at a wedding for some people at my church and the other day they asked me if I could sing "You Light Up My Life." Shit. I think the better question here wouldn't be if I COULD (because I definitely have the skill) but rather if I WOULD. To which I say "oh hell no." So I'm really trying to steer them toward something not awful. Wish me luck. *UPDATE* They chose this equally as heinous, yet unknown-to-me song, and since they only gave me two weeks to learn it, I told them I couldn't. I probably COULD have, but I just didn't WANT to. They were getting more and more irritating -- I'm doing you a favor and you're being exceedingly difficult and rude. I'm a horrible person for writing this. Anyway, they had someone else they could ask, so it all worked out. Thanks. God.

I'm trying to write more, but I'm working all the time. I worked 50 hours this past week, and almost 12 hours Friday. I'm so busy at work that I rarely have time to go on the internet and I'm pretty worded out when I get home.P.I.C. says he barely knows me anymore, what with the "working" and the "getting up early".

Speaking of P.I.C, I was looking through my cedar chest o'memories the other day, and I found my diary from 2nd grade. The very first entry says "Dear Diary: Today P.I.C. said "you won't like your new baby. They're pests!" And I said "shut up stupid!" Ha. It was from when my mom was pregnant with my brother. There was another one where he said something I apparently didn't like and I came up with another equally snappy comeback. When I told him about it, he's like "Wow. I knew how to push your buttons even back then." He's so right. And the button pushing continues, even 22 years later! He has this love of the Ying Yang Twins (ok, we both do) and so most of the time when I answer my phone and it's him, I am treated to him whispering "The Whisper Song." How, HOW did I get so lucky? Although, I will grudgingly admit that I kind of love his sense of humor (that's me whispering. ha). And when he reads this, I will never live it down. Aren't we cute at his parents' house on Memorial Day though?

My boy Dane is off at college in Kansas and he's really homesick. I talked to him on the phone Sunday, and he's like "will you send me a care package?" I asked him what he wanted in it, and he said "food". And so of course I'm going to send him one. I put it together yesterday -- it's totally college and not at all healthy, and actually contains many items that we eat on mission trips: two bags of Chex Mix, one bag of mini powdered donuts, two bags of sunflower seeds (original and ranch), two cans of Pringles, like 15 mini bags of cookies, gum, three packages of ramen, peanut butter crackers, a "family sized" bag of Twizzlers, and dried apples. Oh and I also threw in the Sports Illustrated NFL Preview, a mix CD, and a picture of us from the summer. He loves me already, but he's going to LOVE me after he gets this package. You boys are so easy to please -- with food.

Anyway. That's about it. I have to go clean my house because I never feel like cleaning it when I get home late and I have a tendency to take off my clothes and leave them wherever I happened to be when I took them off. And so yeah. When I say I'm going to go clean the house, what I mean is "I'm going to go take a nap". Because I love naps, I work hard during the week, and dammit, that's just how I roll. *UPDATE* After I wrote this, I actually DID clean my house -- it finally looks less like a hurricane of clothing hit it and more like an actual home. NOW I'm going to go take a nap. Because I had a rough day of getting my hair colored and I have to get some rest before NOT going out tonight. You know you wish your life was like mine.

Musicology

2006-10-03T19:48:00.000-06:00

I think of this a lot, but man. I would not want to live in a world where I couldn't hear music. Blind or deaf? I'd choose blind every time. Music is so unbelievably affecting -- it makes me happy, makes me cry, makes me able to articulate thoughts that I couldn't put into words. It calls up memories -- and there's nothing like the unexpected pang you feel when you hear a song you haven't heard forever and a memory comes rushing back. I love musicians. If you play an instrument, it's a good bet I'll get all swoony over you. I admire that talent, because I don't have it. Sigh. Anyway, I thought I'd share some of my latest playlist. Because I can.

Only You – Yaz – Yes, I realize that this album came out in 1982, but damn, this is such a great song. For some reason it reminds me of jr. high…and I love it. All I needed was the love you gave, all I needed for another day, and all I ever knew, only you…

Afterglow – INXS – This is the NEW INXS, featuring J.D. from the first season of Rockstar. Which I didn’t watch, but his voice is amazing on this. I can’t stop listening to it. This song is unbelievably sexy. UNBELIEVABLY. In between the longing to hold you again, I'm caught in your shadow, I'm losing control, my mind drifts away…

Into the Ocean – Blue October – I don’t know why I like this guy’s voice so much, but I do. I thought of just your face, Relaxed, and floated into space, I want to swim away but don't know how, Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean, Let the waves up take me down, Let the hurricane set in motion, Let the rain of what I feel right now...come down…

Run – Snow Patrol – I was making a mix, and I figured “Chasing Cars” was getting overplayed, so I chose this one. Light up, light up, as if you have a choice, even if you cannot hear my voiceI'll be right beside you dear…

Dark Blue – Jack’s Mannequin – I love the night – the sky, the stars, the quiet. I have some nights that were a perfect shade of dark blue. Dark blue, dark blue, have you ever been alone in a crowded room well I'm here with you, I said the world could be burning 'til there's nothing but dark blue..

Such Great Heights – Postal Service – Love this. Love the lyrics, the melody, all of it. It’s something I would totally write if I were any good at writing songs. Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled head when you're away, when I am missing you to death, when you are out there on the road for several weeks of shows and when you scan the radio, I hope this song will guide you home…

I also currently love “I Write Sins, Not Tragedies” and “It Ends Tonight”. And speaking of the All American Rejects, I also LOVE this song: I'll keep you my dirty little secret (dirty little secret), don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret (just another regret, hope that you can keep it), my dirty little secret, who has to know…

Because everyone needs a dirty little secret…or two…

The Reason

2006-09-30T21:48:00.000-06:00

I’m a firm believer in the fact that everything happens for a reason. What the reason is sometimes isn’t apparent until later, but lately I’ve been thinking about how some of the stuff I’ve gone through in my life has helped me understand people better today.

For example, the last post I wrote about being totally depressed and how miserable my life was for that whole month. At about the same time, one of my youth group girls was going through a really hard time – she had gone away to college and was having a really hard time adjusting, and ended up being really depressed and needing to go to therapy and get medication and all that. I’ve said before that depression is a hard thing for people who’ve never experienced it to understand – and it is. So one day when I was feeling really sad, I was talking to my mom, and she said told me that even though what I was going through was really hard, maybe the reason why was so that I could understand my girl better and know how to help her, because her family didn’t understand. Plus, they’re bizarre. Anyway.

Thinking about it that way made it better. Yes, it sucked that I felt so awful. But that I could be helpful and understanding and supportive of my girl made it so that at least it wasn’t just for nothing. That may not be the best way to put it, but you get it.

Now I’ve got another girl going through a hard time, and I can be there for her and help her to understand what she needs to do and that it’s ok to feel bad. There’s no shame in getting help and in fact, not getting help is a horrible mistake. She’s recently been dealing with a psycho boy at her high school – it’s snowballed out of control into harassment and police involvement, and the thing about that is, I totally understand that too. When I was a freshman, there was this horrible sophomore girl who thought I was trying to steal her boyfriend and she made my life miserable the entire year. No police were ever involved, but my mom was, which if you know my mom and how protective she is of us, it’s almost kinda worse than the police.

Not to overthink it, but sometimes I think I’ve been preparing my entire life to be able to understand these kids and all the stuff they have to deal with that maybe their parents can’t understand. And if that’s the reason I’ve had to have some hard times and heartbreak, well, I’m totally ok with that.

Blast from the (sort of secret) past

2006-09-23T17:10:00.000-06:00

Back in January, I had the worst month of my entire life. I was unbelievably depressed – I used up about 100 hours of sick time that month, because the thought of going to work was so overwhelming that I couldn’t even get out of bed. I cried all the time, because I didn’t know how else to deal with it. Luckily I had a really caring and understanding boss, and lots of help from people who loved me. I started a “secret” blog, because I needed to write stuff down, but I didn’t feel like it was something I could share with my regular readers (and friends) right then.

It’s far enough behind me now that I can post what I wrote then without feeling totally freaked out – in fact, I don’t feel freaked out at all. I’m in a really good place now, and I look back at what I wrote and I remember those awful feelings and I never want to feel that way again. To be totally honest, I’m sort of scared of January – I’m scared that I’ll have a breakdown again. I know I don’t have to worry – it’s not the MONTH, it’s the place where I was back then. And I’m not there anymore. But there’s still that little fear in the back of my head. I look at all the stuff I wrote then and I remember how I felt and THAT was fear. I was scared of how bad I felt and how powerless I felt to change it.

Anyway. Here it is. January 5, 2006.

Have you ever had a day where you wanted to take absolutely everything back? Everything you did, everything you said, everything you thought, even everything that you felt?

Have you ever done something completely stupid and even in the moment, when you’re actually doing it, you KNOW it’s stupid, you’re fully aware of it, and yet? Done.

Have you ever spent an entire day (or days, as the case may be) thinking yourself into a black hole in which the sheer force of the thoughts are pulling you into an inescapable vortex of awfulness? Like where there’s maybe one tiny thing bothering you, or something random irritated you. And then the next completely unrelated thing that happens (or doesn’t happen) not only magnifies the tiny thing, but then magnifies itself in the process. The next minor irritation magnifies the first two and before you know it, it’s three days later and you’re laying with your face on your desk, crying and wondering how you’re going to make it through the next 2 and a half hours before you can go home.

Have you ever said something that the second it’s out of your mouth (or out in cyberspace) you wish you’d never said it? It’s impossible to take back. You’re fucked. And quite possibly, depending on who you said it to, the un-take-backable (YES, it’s a word – at least NOW it is) ridiculousness that seemed like a fine idea a mere second ago has most likely caused irreparable damage to your relationship with the person you said it to. And no matter what you say after the fact, there’s no possible way to explain away what you said without either making things worse or sounding like a neurotic crazy person. Neither of those are good options. How do you tell someone that the stupid thing you said wasn’t really about them at all, but a result of the awful thought vortex and the self-magnifying random shit? And that that, coupled with your penchant for occasionally being overdramatic AND the above mentioned acts of stupidity collides in what can only be described as a hurricane of self-destruction in which they are the confused and unwitting victim? You can’t. At least not without sounding like a neurotic crazy person.

It’s a day (or days) that you can’t take back. Days in which every decision you made, every word out of your mouth, every thought in your head, was clouded by the hurricane. It’s days when your usually sane and rational and mellow and laid-back self was (if we’re going with the hurricane theme) blown into a wall, knocked unconscious and was taking entirely too long to shake it off. SHAKE IT OFF!! Damn. So now it’s shaken off, but you look back at the path of destruction and wish, over and over, that you could take it all back.

Has any of this happened to anyone? Yeah, me neither. I was just wondering.

Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door!

2006-09-15T21:19:00.000-06:00

So I’m housesitting at Sally & Joe’s this weekend, and last night, Ian was here too. I was laying in bed, watching CSI, and he came in shooting a laser tag gun. He was allegedly testing it out for a work thing (he works with kids) but I have my doubts. I think he just wanted to play. So once he stopped shooting and falling into gun stances all around the room, I asked him if he had shut the garage door. He said yes.

Anyway, this morning I got up and walked into the living room. It was early, and so it was still dark, but I could see the outline of SOMETHING on the floor. GREAT. I turned on the kitchen light and saw that it was a giant bird’s wing. I knew exactly where it had come from – Joe ties some elaborate flies down in his office, and uses bird feathers in some of them. I picked up the wing and went downstairs, where, sure enough, the door to his office was wide open. I shut it and went back upstairs to feed the dog. I opened the door to the garage to get her food and what do you know, the door is WIDE OPEN. I knew Ian wasn’t up yet, so this must mean he did NOT, in fact, close the door the night before. I went and woke him up and I was like “Did you go into Joe’s office last night?” He said yeah. So I told him about the bird wing. Then I said “Also? You totally did NOT close the garage door last night.” And he said “Oops – good thing I’m not the housesitter”. Ha. Very funny. I had to go to work and I told him that under no circumstances was he to unlock any of the doors in the house. He could go out the side door when he left, which locks by itself. Because clearly he has a while before he can be trusted to lock up the house himself. Yeah. He’s 30.

The bird wing reminds me of an incident a couple of years ago when I was housesitting here and I pretty much killed one of their canaries. One of the birds was sick, and so Sally had him in one of the bedrooms with the door closed so he would be warmer. She said he might die, and if he did, that was ok. So I went in to check on him before I left for work and he was kind of listlessly sitting on his perch. When I got home that evening, I walked down the hall to check on him again, and to my absolute horror, the bedroom door was open. I went in, and the cage was knocked over, it was empty, and there was a spot on the carpet that looked suspiciously like blood. This is how my thought process went (oh, and if you know me BUT AT ALL, you know this isn't a SHORT thought process. Buckle in, party people):

Oh god. The cats got the bird. They’re just milling around, not meowing for food, and I swear they’re licking their chops. Shit. They ate the bird. Damn. Damn damn damn. They ATE! THE! BIRD!!! Wait, wait. There aren’t any feathers anywhere – if they ate the bird, there would have to be feathers somewhere. Ok, let’s be rational. Maybe the bird got away and is hiding in the house somewhere. Great. This house is not small. Look under everything. Call the bird. Curse the cats as they follow you around, watching in what you can only believe is amusement as you crawl all over the house. Stop and look closely at the cats’ mouths – you don’t see any blood, so the “bird as snack” scenario is looking less and less likely. Whew. But WHERE is that effing BIRD? Go downstairs and crawl around down there, looking under everything. Be followed by the cats, who are “pretending” to help. Why, WHY didn’t that door close all the way! Ok. You looked everywhere you possibly could. Go upstairs and vacuum up the spilled birdseed and think of how you’re going to explain this to Sally. Do you pretend that the bird died and you disposed of the body? Maybe. But further thought vetoes that idea. One, it would be out of character for me to dispose of the body. Two (and perhaps most importantly) what if the cats HID the bird, so that when their mom comes home, they could give her a “welcome home” gift. Yeah, Sally? Your bird died and I buried him in the compost pile. What? The cats brought him to you one morning? Hmmm. How DO I explain that. Uh, they must have dug him up from the compost pile when they NEVER GO OUTSIDE. This will never work. Plus, I’m a horrible liar and I hate lying. Ok. Go to bed (after carefully inspecting every inch to make sure there’s no oh, I don’t know, BIRDIE CORPSE in the bed with you) and think about it in the morning. Morning comes. You decide honesty is the best policy. Call Sally in Maine and tell her that you killed her bird. “No you didn’t,” she says “he was sick anyway.” Politely disagree and tell her that no, you’re pretty sure you and/or the cats killed the bird. Oh, and the icing on THAT cake is that you can’t find him. Ok then! Have fun in Maine! Go downstairs to watch t.v., and find the bird, ALIVE, sitting in the middle of the rug. Where, I might add, he totally was not the night before. Pick him up and put him back in his cage, and close the door. For real this time. Call Sally and tell her, oops! Ha ha! False alarm! The bird is not dead! Which may have been a premature call, as he died later that day. Poor guy.

Seriously. Who does stuff like that happen to? Oh right – me.

Well hi there!!

2006-09-11T21:54:00.000-06:00

I just thought I’d stop by my own blog and say hello to all of you, since I’ve been seriously remiss in keeping up with your blogs. I blame my new job. I mean, no one told me that having a job means actually having to WORK! I’m just kidding – I love love LOVE the fact that I’m busy at the job. It’s so great to look up at the clock and realize that hours have passed without my even noticing it. So yeah, it’s busy, and as soon as I get my own workspace with my own computer, I may have more time to visit everyone during the work day. Because after hours of sitting in front of the computer doing design and page layouts, I don’t really have the desire to hang out much in front of the computer when I get home. AND I’ve been too busy to do a lot of home computering lately anyway. It’ll slow down, but for now, I’m just adjusting to my new schedule.

So yeah. Because I’m such a party animal and it’s nearly 10 p.m., I’m going to bed. Although in my defense, I stayed awake last night watching season 3 of “Arrested Development” on DVD while P.I.C. and The Bad Cop fell asleep. That NEVER happens – I usually always outsleep those two. But since AD is totally my favorite show, and I was so excited about the new season, well, I stayed awake. It might have also had to do with the large amount of Coke I drank earlier in the evening when I was trying to get rid of a headache. Then when I went home, my cats ever so sweetly woke me up three hours before I needed to get up this morning by running through the house like a herd of elephants and meowing loudly. I was angry.

Anyway. Nighty night and I’m sure I’ll have all kinds of terrific construction industry related stories for you in the near future. I know you’re excited about that, even if you won’t admit it…

Melon calling and Milahd

2006-09-04T22:25:00.000-06:00

I was sitting in my parents’ yard today and as I looked around, I realized that today is the unofficial official last day of summer. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the end of summer so acutely – the past five years have been filled with work, so a summer day was just like a winter day, only hotter. I went to the office and I came home. Sure, I went on trips with the kids and did things outside, but the time flew by and it was mostly a series of “just another days.”

Obviously this summer was different. I went places with the kids. I hung out with my friends. I went to the pool at my complex for the first time ever, and I’ve lived here for three summers. I’ve loved every minute of my freedom from my job – I can’t tell you enough how thankful I am that that place is no longer and that because of that, I was able to take the time off that I needed to. I got to have summer and I LOVED it!

Fall is one of my favorite seasons. I love the change in the air – the nights are much chillier and even though we ate dinner outside at Sally and Joe’s last night, we had a fire going in the chiminea and sweatshirts on. It was beautiful out, and when I went to bed, I took my hair out of a ponytail, and it smelled like fire smoke. I love that smell. I love the smell of the crisp air, and I love the smell of fires burning in fireplaces. I love the colors of fall and I love the things that fall means. High school football games, carving pumpkins, a fire in my fireplace. I love that even though fall is an end for so many things, it’s always been a beginning for me.

I’ve started my last few jobs in the fall. Five years ago in October, I began my job at my now-defunct company. The fall before that I started working at REI. And now, tomorrow I start yet another new job. It’s exciting. It’s the promise that things will change and even though I fear change, I also love it. New people, a new place, new stuff to learn and do.

I’ve also began a lot of my relationships in the fall. My college boyfriend and I began dating in the fall and a year later, we got engaged in the fall. I started seeing my last serious boyfriend, the one I was with for four and a half years, in the fall. And two years ago, I started seeing Not Boyfriend in the fall.

So I guess it’s not weird that when fall comes around, I feel melancholy. Or “melon calling” as Kendra used to say. I was thinking about how to write about all of this, and I remembered that last year at this time, I was feeling the same way. I went back and read this entry, and the first paragraph kind of sums up how I feel right now. In the arena of melon-calling, that is. The entry ends with me keeping my fingers crossed for things to work out with Not Boyfriend, and a year later, they totally have. He’s living in another state, but we’ve stayed close friends. We talk about once a week, sometimes more, sometimes less. When he comes back to Denver, he makes time to see me. I still love him, it’s just a different love now, and I no longer hold on to the hope that we’ll be together. I still miss him, but how could you not miss a friend who’s far away?

As far as the other side of the coin, well, I got that covered as well. The job is new. The routine is new. The people will be new. The stuff I learn will be new. It’s the beginning of something that might last long, but that might not. It’s what I mean by “milahd” – that’s the name of my ex-boyfriend’s little boy. In Farsi, it means “new beginning”.

So. Here’s what we’re keeping our fingers crossed about this year. That my fall will have more milahds than I could possibly know what to do with. Because my summer has surpassed all expectations, so why should fall be any different?

Guess what?

2006-09-01T06:06:00.000-06:00

Well, my lazy days of laying by the pool, taking naps and watching "Magnum, P.I." are officially coming to an end. Why, you might ask?

I GOT A JOB!!

Starting Tuesday, I’ll be working in the marketing department of a large construction company. I will be co-workers with John, Karen’s husband – who, I might add, is the reason I got the job (you're the best, JT!!). Apparently, it IS about who you know, not what you know. Although what I know is also coming in handy.

So. After almost five months of a lovely life of leisure, I can now put to rest my worries about paying the mortgage and go back to the land where people work for a living.

I’m happy about that, because as much as I love being at home and doing whatever I want whenever I want to, I’m getting sort of bored. I mean, I spent this week rearranging the living room and getting rid of stuff because I couldn’t stand all the clutter. I have way too much stuff. And I’m getting a desk, because I would really love to have my dining room table back for purposes of oh, I don’t know, eating, instead of as computer central. Plus, as part of my new job, I can work from home sometimes if I want to, so I should have an official “home office,” don’t you think?

Anyway. I’m excited. Yay! Job!

The story of them

2006-08-27T21:24:00.000-06:00

My mom and I were talking the other day, and she was telling me about how she and my dad were out to dinner with some friends, and they got to talking about how each couple met and all that. I’ve heard the story before, but there was a twist to it that I’d never heard and I just had to post it.

My parents both grew up in Peoria, Illinois, but they went to different high schools so they didn’t know each other. My mom got married right out of high school, but her husband, Marty, was killed in a motorcycle crash nine months after they got married. She was a secretary at Bradley University, which was where my dad went to college, and so she had seen him there, but they never met, just knew who each other were. One night she was at Steak n’ Shake with a friend, and my dad was there with one of his friends, and so they got to talking. They were all going out to the same club, and so my mom and dad danced together, and they would see each other there on the weekends so they got to be friends. My dad asked her out on a date, and they went to a rock show. I said “Cool! Who’d you go see?” And she said “No. A rock show. Like with actual rocks.” Have I mentioned that my dad is an engineer? That should explain it. But he bought her a turquoise piece that could be made into a pendant, and it’s on her charm bracelet. Anyway.

They dated off and on for five years – not seriously, because they both went out with other people, but they really liked each other. Then my mom decided to move to California. My dad was bummed, but he wrote her lots of letters (which my mom still has) and called and came and visited her when he could. After two years, one day in August they were sitting outside my mom’s apartment in California, waiting for the bus to take my dad to the airport, and he says to her “How long are we going to do this?” She said she didn’t know – did he have any ideas? And he said “Well, we could move in together” and she said “Nope”. So he said “Well, do you want to get married?” And she said yes. So they decided to get married in January.

The part I’d never heard before was how he then had to go home and break up with the girl he’d been dating in Illinois for two years. I mean, she knew about my mom and my mom knew about her, but can you imagine? The guy you’ve been seeing for two years comes home from a trip and is like “I have to break up with you because I’m getting married.” WHAT? Apparently she didn’t take it well, as when my dad was trying to walk down the stairs from her apartment, she was holding onto his leg. She made not have gotten my dad, but at least she had her dignity. Or not.

This seemed so strange to me – I was like “Wait a second. Were you in love with him?” And my mom said “I loved him, but it wasn’t the infatuation of ‘first love’ I’d had with Marty. Your dad had been a committed friend and I knew no one would ever treat me as well as he did, and we were great friends.” And that she loved him more and more as time went on, especially after my brother and I were born, because she wouldn’t have had such wonderful kids without him. Aw.

My parents have been married for 33 years, and they’re still great friends. Now that they’re alone in their house, they do stuff together and with their friends all the time. They go see live music and to art shows and to dinner, and a lot of my mom’s stories will start out with “your dad made me laugh so hard last night…” I’ve never doubted for a minute that they didn’t totally love each other – they are affectionate and kind to each other, and they are excellent parents. They fight and get annoyed with each other too, but it would be weird if they didn’t.

I’ve said it before – I want a marriage like they have. It never occurred to me before how true the phrase “you should be friends first” is when it comes to relationships. There’s definitely something to be said for getting to know someone really well as a friend, and then if there turns out to be an attraction there too, even better. If sparks will fly, that’s awesome. But it’s the friendship that will take you through to forever.

Blah blee blah

2006-08-24T19:26:00.000-06:00

Don’t you hate when you have things to write about, but you can’t because there are people that read your blog who you don’t want to know the stuff you’re writing about? Because maybe it’s about people you know that they know, or even worse, it’s about them? It’s times like this when I wish that I was a little more anonymous. But it is what it is, so I guess there are some things I just won’t write about. Sigh. But now where will I get valuable feedback and validation? Where, I ask you?! Just kidding.

Ok. So maybe brace yourself for some less than exciting tidbits from my brain.

So my mom is kind of a health nut and today she was all excited when she called me. When I was little, my favorite cereal was Alpha Bits. Go figure, right? Anyway, she found some that was made with whole grains and had zero grams of sugar. So she brought it over to my house and we opened it up and tasted it. GACK. It was seriously like eating cardboard. I opened my mouth and made the *gaaaaack* kind of noise and made my mom laugh, which is no small feat when all of your saliva has been sucked up by cardboard masquerading as cereal. So I am not recommending the whole grain no sugar Alpha Bits. What I will recommend is my mom’s delicious homemade black raspberry jelly, which she also brought me today. It totally made up for the gack-tastic cereal.

I would love to know why I don’t have a job yet. I’ve sent out a lot of resumes and applications and haven’t gotten anything back. It’s beginning to give me a complex. My one consolation is that my coworker hasn’t found a job yet either, so maybe it isn’t all about me.

I am sort of working. I’m helping out some friends by babysitting their 11 month old little boy three days a week. I love him. He’s the sweetest tempered baby, totally easy going, and of course, he’s adorable. However, he’s also at the point where he wants to go everywhere and put everything in his mouth on his way. So I spend a lot of time either making sure he’s not pulling himself up to a standing position using something that will fall over and crush him, or making sure he’s not eating paper or dog hair or something equally as appetizing. I also spend a lot of time carrying him around. He weighs 20 pounds and after the first day of toting him around the museum and the house on one arm and one hip, I was like “I’m 100 years old, because my back is KILLING me!” Other than that, though, I’m having fun with him. And I think the fact that I’m walking around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame will pass with time.

Not to toot my own horn...

2006-08-18T11:35:00.000-06:00

So. I know I have tons of friends and family that love me. I’m blessed that way and I know that. But these trips with the kids always bring that back home to me because of how much they love me. Horn! Toot toot!

Maybe because when I’m home, I have all of these issues. Insecurities, worries, fears, whatever you want to call them. How do I look? My hair, my makeup, my outfit? Am I pretty enough? Am I saying the right thing? Am I sounding smart enough and funny enough? Blah blah blah – it goes on. Here’s where you have permission to agree that yes, I am a neurotic weirdo. Anyway.

But somehow, when I travel with the kids, all of that goes out the window. Part of it could be because when we go places on mission trips, we’re there for a reason bigger than any issue I could have back home. Part of it could be that no matter what, we’re going to be seeing each other at our worst. Sweaty, dirty, right before bed, right after we wake up, before we’ve showered or brushed our teeth, after we’ve showered, when we’re tired, when we’re sleeping – it’s all out there. There were girls from other churches on the South Dakota trip who would get up at 5 a.m. so they could shower and do their hair and makeup. My girls and I rolled out of bed at 6:45, which was when they rang the bell for breakfast. Because sleep is WAY more important. My girls worked their asses off – mowing knee high weeds, assembling beds – they were always the first to volunteer for a job, no matter how dirty or difficult it might be. While the girls who made sure they looked perfect sat in the shade of the bus. Clearly there for the right reasons. Not to say our boys weren’t the same – they were always right in there doing whatever was needed. I couldn’t be prouder of all of our kids. They seriously rock.

Anyway, back to the fact that I feel totally loved on these trips. We got these booklets from Jim (our leader) with really cool quotes in them and also blank pages so we could write notes to each other. I thought I’d share a sample of some of the notes I got:

“You complete me! This trip has had it’s ups and downs – well, just ups with you. You are one of the coolest people I have ever met and we have many more trips together still to come. This is only the beginning. I heart you!”

“You are my best friend, my sister, my mom (except for the old part) all wrapped up into one. It’s crazy on mission trips just how close we get and I feel that with you a ton. I just don’t know what I would do without you. I WUV YOU!”

“This trip has been one of the best by far and without you it would have sucked! You’re the coolest leader just ‘cause you’re FUNNY – you’re one of us but you can also teach us life lessons. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“I don’t know how I would survive without you! Thanks for always being such a great listener and such an inspiration – you have made an impact on me and you will always have a special place in my heart!”

“It was so fun and I can’t wait until next year – it’ll be so fun! Don’t forget to send me that zombie thing.”
(I had to put that in there because what trip with 14 year-old-boys is complete without the mention of zombies and/or ninjas? None.)

Those kids? Make my life a million times better than it ever would have been without them.

My Grand Social Experiment into the Lives of Perverts

2006-08-14T10:29:00.000-06:00

So the other day, P.I.C. and I decided to conduct a little social experiment. Maybe a little eeeeee-vil social experiment.

I know most of you haven’t been living under a rock, therefore you know what CraigsList is. I’m not a huge fan – it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that I don’t spend a lot of time looking at it. However, it’s one of P.I.C.’s guilty pleasures, and so he’ll often send me the links to, um, interesting postings.

We were on the phone on Friday afternoon, and I was telling him about how, a couple days previously, I had posted a fake ad on “casual encounters” and how it was crazy how many responses I got. It wasn’t a dirty ad, I just posted more out of curiosity -- you know, to see how many responses I might get. I had gotten about 120 before it was flagged and removed (apparently not pervy enough? Who knows) so P.I.C. and I decided we might kick it up a notch and try again.

And so. We composed an ad that we hoped would generate some interesting responses. According to my CL posting, I’m a 26 year old lonely married girl looking for some “discreet, no-strings-attached” fun. Because (boo hoo) my husband just doesn’t pay enough attention to me, and hey, a girl has NEEDS. We then added the piece de resistance, the random nipple picture that we found through the magic of search engines.

The listing specified that I wanted to hook up on Friday afternoon, and that it would have to be at the home of the magical random who was going to satisfy me beyond my wildest dreams. And so pretty much as soon as it got posted, the emails started pouring in. To my fake email address, created for just this occasion.

If you’ve looked at CL “casual encounters” pretty much EVER, you might notice that there seems to be a predominance of pictures of, um, packages. So P.I.C. and I were thinking that a post from someone wanting no strings sex might generate a lot of package pictures. Nope. I got a lot of pictures, but most were actual face pictures. Don’t get me wrong, I did get package pics as well, and OF COURSE a lot of emails lauding their,ah, oral abilities and the fact that they have a six inch (but OF COURSE usually larger) pleasure stick, but face pictures were a twist I didn’t expect.

Anyway, I was going to post some of the best responses, but the sheer volume of emails I got prevents me from going back and finding the good ones, and of course I didn’t have the presence of mind when I got them to keep them for the amusement of you, the readers. But again, much to my surprise, a lot of the guys seem to be looking for someone to “get to know” and THEN hook up with. Which to me seems to defeat the purpose of both a “casual” encounter AND no-strings sex. But maybe I’m missing the logic here. Most of the emails were pretty basic, although some included detailed descriptions of what they’d like to do to the married girl. Dirty. And some included pics that were certainly not of them. I mean really. I watch "The Dead Zone" on USA. I know what Anthony Michael Hall looks like now. That picture? Is of him. And some? Well, some were so badly misspelled and featured such atrocious grammar that I was almost hoping that their skills in the bedroom were as good as they claimed, because it was clear they didn’t have much to fall back on.

As of this morning, I have received 232 responses (and, just FYI, I didn't actually respond to any of them. Because as you know, I'm not 26 or married or looking for no-strings sex or desperate enough to post for real in "casual encounters). There are apparently a LOT of men (and a few women and some couples) in the metro area looking for a hook-up with a 26-year-old lonely married girl. And who don’t seem to have a grasp of what “Friday afternoon fun” really means, since it’s now Monday morning and I’ve not only kept receiving emails all weekend, but I've gotten at least three more emails in the time it’s taken to write this post. Actually, I just now got one of a guy who is totally naked except for his shoes and socks. Why wouldn’t he take off his shoes and socks? That’s not sexy! That’s just lazy! Anyway.

I’ve noticed that for many of the people who answered the post that the fact that "I'm" married is like the biggest selling point. I’m not sure which is more unsettling – the fact that they get off on that, the fact that they’re actively looking for it, or the fact that a large number of respondents are also married. As it turns out, maybe not all the good ones are taken – they’re just secretly answering casual encounters posts on CL…

Hey motherfer! Get laid! Get fed!!

2006-08-11T03:14:00.000-06:00

Ha! I’ll bet THAT caught your attention, especially since most of my posts lately have been about you know, church-related stuff. However, as you may or may not know by now, I can’t be appropriate ALL the time!

So the title refers to the fact that I went to the Billy Idol concert the other night. Yeah, you heard me – Billy. Idol.

Karen heard that he was coming to town and she mentioned it to me, and I was like “that would be cool” and then the next day I got a message from her saying that she had bought tickets and I was going. Ok then. I was excited, because I don’t always have a chance to wear a lot of extraneous black eyeliner and really, what better event to do so than a Billy Idol concert? There isn’t one, especially when you’re 30 and it’s not Halloween.

The other exciting part of this was that I knew there would be some Billy Idol superfans there who had totally seen him back in the 80s. And chances were, they’d probably be wearing similar outfits from when they saw him back then, and I do love to mock people’s outfits! What? I mean, I love to see people who are die hard fans of a musical icon. I wasn't disappointed. Lots of big hair on old ladies. Good times.

So Karen and I and her husband John and his work buddy Chris headed to the concert. After a few margaritas, because that’s how we roll. We got there and because it was like 90 degrees outside, inside the concert it was 6, maybe 700 degrees. Pleasant. You know, if you like to sweat profusely at all times. The boys went to buy beer and so Karen and I were trying to find a place to stand. We were walking to this aisle, and this guy let us cut in front of him, and so I was like “sorry about that” and he’s like “don’t apologize – what do you have to be sorry about?” And so I said “well, we totally just cut you off”, and so he says “well if you’re that sorry, why don’t you kiss me?” Uh, what? And so I said “Yeah. I’m only sorta sorry”. Luckily he laughed and didn't push for the kissing. Blech. Anyway.

Billy played a couple of new songs, but he also played most of his old stuff. White Wedding. Rebel Yell. Dancing with Myself. The most awesome version of Eyes Without a Face EVER. Which I love, because it totally reminds me of when I was little. And of course, Mony Mony, which is what the title of this post refers to, because apparently that’s what you yell as loud as possible. Like this: “Here she comes now, singin’ mony mony” then: “Hey motherf***er get laid, get f***ed!!” Now you know what to do if you ever find yourself at a Billy Idol concert. It’s clearly a very family-friendly show.

The man is 51. And he looks GOOD. Like he took off his shirt (of course he did) and he has this nice toned chest and it was all smooth and sweaty and his arms look all muscle-y and hot and I asked Karen if it was wrong that I thought he looked so smokin’ and luckily she said no because she thought so too, not that I would have cared because I also have sort of a crush on Tommy Lee, but really that’s neither here nor there. The one disappointment was that his hair wasn’t platinum. But it was just a small disappointment. And also he didn’t play Cradle of Love, which was also a little sad, but I got over it.

One of the best parts was that for once in the recent past, we weren’t the oldest people at the concert. By far. John and Chris were on another beer run and of course while they were gone, this weird drunk old guy comes and stands next to Karen and directly in front of me, and he keeps edging closer to her while also completely smushing me back into the railing behind me. Finally John and Chris came back, and I pulled Chris over and pointed out the Space Invader, and he laughed until the guy started crowding him. Chris kinda pushed him forward in a fakely jovial way, but the guy totally ignored him as he kept “dancing” closer to Karen. Now. Back in the younger days, Chris would have probably decked the guy when he didn’t get the first hint. Because he and John are not small guys. But instead he’s like “watch this” and he says something to John and John looks over and then he pushes past the guy and when the guy looks at him like “dude, I was here first”, John is like “hey buddy – I just wanted to come stand by my wife” and he kisses Karen, so Chris and I are totally laughing. The drunk guy played it off for about two seconds and then he left. Way suave.

So yeah. We had a great time. And because we’re mature adults, we listened to (and sang) Eminem’s “Shake That” at extremely high volume most of the way home. We may be 30 chronologically, but there’s just some ways in which we patently refuse to grow up. And also? We’re total rockstars – just ask Billy Idol. He knows from rockstars, you know.

Camp is all about...

2006-08-06T19:40:00.000-06:00

...Amazing sunsets...
...Singing...
...Dancing...
... Gorgeous Scenery...

...And the best friends ever...
...Don't you wish you were there?

*For more camp pictures (you know you want them!!) click on the new Flickr box to the right*

Thanks...

2006-08-04T14:03:00.000-06:00

...for all the advice for Em. Whether she takes it or not will remain to be seen, but at least now she knows that Mollie and I aren't crazy. At least not when it comes to this particular subject.

So I just thought I'd let you all know that I'll be posting some pictures from camp this weekend. Because I KNOW you've all been waiting with bated breath. Right? Ha.

Happy weekend!!

I'm telling you, there is a CODE

2006-07-30T14:38:00.000-06:00

Ok, so this is a story about one of my girls. We’ll call her Em.

Em is a quiet and shy girl. She’s super smart and cute and she totally loves and values her friends. She looks for the best in people, especially her friends, which is where the trouble came about in this situation.

Em’s best friend is named Bee (as in “bee-otch” – but I’m not biased). I have never met Bee, but from everything Em has told me about her, she’s one of those girls who doesn’t know how to be a good friend. The reason I think this is that from the beginning, she’s ignored THE CODE. This is the code that says you never EVER try to steal a boy from a friend. You just don’t. But see, Bee just ignores that code and has tried since day one to sneakily steal the boy Em likes and has been dating – let’s call him Ken. Bee would constantly hang out with Em and Ken, which was fine in the beginning until Em got over her initial fear of dating Ken – he was her first boyfriend. But Bee would also say things to Em about how she thought Ken was so cute and she liked him and blah blah blah. What? You don’t tell your “best friend” that the guy she’s dating is hot and you want to go out with him. Anyway.

Recently, Em found out that Bee and Ken have been hooking up. Not just “oops, we accidentally drank too much and made out once” but “we hadn’t been drinking at all and it was on multiple occasions”. And it wasn’t just a kiss here and there. It wasn’t sex, but it was going in that direction big time. The way Em found out is that she asked Bee one day and Bee admitted it. She said she felt really guilty and all of that bullshit that people say when they don’t feel guilty at all about the act, they just feel guilty that they got caught.

Em is telling me this story and I’m like “so you’re no longer friends with her OR dating him, right?” And she’s like “I forgave them”. And I about lost my mind right there. She is still “best friends” with Bee and still dating Ken. She keeps telling me things like “they haven’t done it again”, which is when I point out that she doesn’t KNOW they haven’t done it again, and she says “Bee would tell me” and I was like “yes, because she was so honest and straightforward about it the FIRST few times.” We’ve gone in circles about this for a few weeks now, with me (and our other friend Mollie) telling Em that she has GOT to get rid of these two. Because here’s the other thing. Em is going back up to college next month, and Bee and Ken will both be going to college here. They work together and they obviously hang out together. So really, the logical conclusion is that they’ll most likely hook it up again, if they even stopped in the first place.

I could go on about this forever, because even though I’ve been known to steal a few boyfriends in my day, I would never EVER do that to a friend. My friends are way too important to me to risk ending a friendship over a boy who I’m most likely not going to marry. It just isn’t done. The thing that makes me extra crazy about this situation is that I’m really protective of Em. She’s only 18, and it’s a really naïve 18. That’s not a bad thing at all, except for when it comes to letting people walk all over you. Life is too short to keep people in your life who don’t know or even care how to be a friend. There’s no reason to let manipulative bitches and weak-ass boys have a free pass to continue to do what they feel like doing with no respect for you or regard for your feelings. Em is too young to start this pattern of relationships with men who treat her badly and “friends” who will screw her over given the opportunity. This is a learning experience for her, and the thing about learning experiences is that you have to LEARN and then MOVE ON. That means leaving people who claim to love you and claim to respect you and care for you, but who are really just about what they want in the dust.

Mollie and I have talked until we’re blue in the face about this and how even though it’s a really difficult thing to end a relationship and to end a friendship, in the long run, it’s so much better for Em, because she needs to watch out for herself and to surround herself with people who actually DO love and respect and care for her and who show that by being loyal.

SO, commenters. Tell Em what you think. Should she forgive Bee and Ken and continue dating him and being best friends with her? Or should she kick them both to the curb? Mollie and I of course believe that a swift ass kicking straight to curbville is in order, but we also decided to put it to you guys as well.

Opine away…

What I could tell you

2006-07-25T12:27:00.000-06:00

So yes. Back when I used to blog, I would tell you about stuff that went on in my life. So I’ve had a bunch of potential posts that I can’t seem to get out of my head and onto paper. They seem boring to me. I could talk about the art of making a mix cd – at least I consider it an art. Or maybe a process. Anyway. I started to write it and then I was like “wow, this isn’t even interesting to ME” and I stopped.

I could write about how I am still unemployed and I still love it and I never want to go back to work ever again. But that’s not a whole post, because I pretty much just told you exactly how I feel about that. And it was a short paragraph.

I could talk about how lately I’ve been really wanting a baby. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on getting pregnant, because the sensible side of me (yes, I actually DO possess a sensible side, believe it or not) is like “you must be CRAZY because you don’t have a husband or a job or a desire to be woken up when you’re not ready and also look at that pile of laundry you haven’t folded – you can’t take care of a baby!” And then I see my neighbors’ brand new tiny baby and I’m like “but I WANT one of those” and then my head explodes, thereby preventing any further thought about it. So no. No baby.

I could talk about how there was this guy at my church who was essentially homeless and pretty, well, overweight, and he smoked like a chimney and also didn’t shower very much. And how he recently moved to another town because he met someone and was moving in with her. Are you KIDDING ME with this? I don’t smoke and I take showers and I’m STILL SINGLE. If it wasn’t so ridiculous, I’d be really upset. Apparently, my “standards” are getting in the way of me finding a man. Although, being logical and all, there’d be no way in hell I’d be desperate enough to lower my standards that low. Yes, sometimes it sucks being single, but I’d rather be single than settle. It’s like a mantra I keep saying to myself. Or something.

Speaking of being single, I could definitely talk more about the subject of relationships, but I will not. There’s tons of material in my head about THAT, but I can’t really get it out right now. Or ever. Who knows.

I could tell you about how I sent in a request today for an application to get into the teacher licensure program here. I’ve been told that I’d be a great teacher, and so I’ll send in the application and hopefully qualify to get into the program.

I could tell you about how I’m housesitting at the hot tub house and this morning I was walking the dog out by the pond and it started to rain and it was so pretty and so quiet. I wished it would have kept going all day. And how the last couple of nights the lightning has been amazing and so I sit in the hot tub room and watch the sky light up.

I could tell you about the horrifying nightmares I’ve been having. Last night was the first time in a few days that I’ve actually slept all the way through the night without waking up scared or crying. Maybe those nightmares are the result of me not being able to express anything lately. My sleep and my blog are suffering, I tell you!

So that’s about it for now. Give some suggestions – what do you want to know? Hopefully I’ll get camp pics soon. But until then, I need inspiration. Therefore I’m leaving it to you. Don’t fail me. No pressure though. Just don’t fail me. Ha.

The thing about camp...

2006-07-17T19:20:00.000-06:00

The thing about camp is that I never want to come home. Theoretically, that is. A week is plenty long to plan activities and games for 25 teenagers. It’s long enough to be away from home. It’s long enough to never really have time alone. On the other hand, how long is long enough to spend in a place so unbelievably gorgeous that every time I walked outside, I was amazed again at the beauty of it? How long is long enough to fall asleep to the river right below my window? How long is long enough to watch the sunset not only in the west, but then bouncing off the mountains to the east? How long is too long to stand by a warm campfire, and then later pick up your shirt and smell that campfire smell? How long is too long to lay shoulder to shoulder in the meadow and look up into a pitch black sky, unmarred by any sort of city lights, and see what has got to be every star in the sky? I just don’t think there’s a “too long” for any of those, especially the last one. My favorite thing is by far the stars. Phenomenal.

The thing about camp is that you can never explain WHY it was so awesome, you just know that it WAS so awesome. When people ask what I did, and I try to explain it, it doesn’t work. We played cards and hung out and did all kinds of contests and teamwork type activities. We stayed up late and got up early and for the first time, I finally understood the phrase “fell asleep when my head hit the pillow” because one night, I actually fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I could tell you about all of the laughing and how I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in a realllllllly long time. I could tell you what we were laughing about, but it totally doesn’t translate to words. You definitely had to be there. I could tell you about the giant bear that came into camp and how I totally could have been mauled by him twice, but you’d probably say I was exaggerating. Yes, I would be exaggerating a little. There WAS a giant bear and I potentially COULD have walked right into him one night had I not been too lazy to walk across the meadow to the lodge where he happened to be destroying the trash enclosure. And the second time was less of a close call – I HEARD him over in the trash again, and it scared me, and so I decided since it was 2 a.m. and I was outside alone, I might head on into bed. I stopped at the bathroom and when I came out I freaked out because ohmygod what if he’s right outside the door? He was not. Hey, it was dark, it was late, and I have an active imagination. It could have happened to anyone.

The thing about camp is that yeah, maybe I was pretty tired when all was said and done – but whatever, I can sleep when I’m home. I could have gone to bed earlier, I could have taken a nap during the day, but then I’d miss something fun. I’m alone at home all the time – one week of being around people all the time was totally fun. Planning activities for the kids was fun because they’d do whatever we wanted them to in the name of competition. Clearly I avoided the bear, so I’m all in one piece.

The thing about camp is that I got to spend a lot of time with people that I love. So yeah. It’s pretty, it’s fun, it’s everything you could possibly ask for, and it’s all made even better by the people you’re there with. We’ve got it all – hugs, kisses, laughter, tears, singing, dancing, yelling, silence, and most of all, the best friends ever. It might sound cheesy, but it’s true.

The thing about camp is that you had to be there to even begin to understand how awesome it is. Are you jealous? Because you totally should be.

Super fast update

2006-07-03T09:39:00.000-06:00

So I didn’t have time to tell you all that I was out of town last week. I was on trip number 2 of 3 – to Grand Junction, CO. I was there with 7 of our jr. high girls, and let me just tell you – while they are sweet and adorable, they are SO.MUCH.WORK. Four of them were just out of sixth grade, therefore they haven’t spent a lot of time away from home and therefore I have to pay a lot of attention to what they’re doing and not doing. I’m pretty tired. I decided that when I have kids, I’m going to go on a trip right around the time they turn 10 and come back when they’re about 15.

Anyway. We went to a lot of urban sites around Grand Junction and helped out at places like Habitat for Humanity, the Salvation Army, the Catholic Outreach soup kitchen, a shelter for homeless families, an after school place for teens who need to be away from their families, and a nursing home, just to name a few. My favorite place by far was the nursing home. I volunteered in the Alzheimer’s unit for two days and had the best time ever. I love Alzheimer’s patients because they’re hilarious. I mean yes, I know it’s a really sad disease – my grandma had it for years and finally died of it in 2001 – but THEY don’t know it’s sad and so you might as well laugh about it or you’ll just end up being sad all the time. It was great. It made me think that maybe I could be an activities director for people with Alzheimer’s – I’m not so much on the nursing side of things, but the interacting with people side is totally my thing. Who knows.

So I’m home for the week and then I leave for camp in Montana on Saturday. I may try and write some more before then, but I have a ton to do this week. I’m going to Sally & Joe’s for the 4th tomorrow night and then Wednesday, Joe and Mandy and I are going to see Jason Mraz in concert. Thursday I pick up my friend Chris at the airport (he’s been teaching in Croatia all year) and we are hanging out at my house until we leave to be camp counselors up in Montana. My social calendar is clearly just chock full o’fun. Ha. Anyway, hope everyone is doing well and I’m sure I’ll have some great camp pictures when I get back!!

Pine Ridge Reservation *

2006-06-22T13:40:00.000-06:00

*Disclaimer: This is a long post, but I couldn't make it shorter and still say what I wanted to, so bear with me. Also, this isn't a political commentary, so please don't launch into discussion about the U.S. and foreign policy and war and whatnot. This is totally about the Pine Ridge Reservation and what I learned and experienced there. Thanks for reading.*

The U.S. has a history of riding roughshod over other cultures in pursuit of what they want or to convert everyone to our way of life. Apparently, the constitution and the declaration of independence only applied to white people, because the Indians? Got no freedom of religion. All men were not created equal – it was only all WHITE men. The Indians were not allowed the supposedly unalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. What they were allowed was the introduction to disease – and not just the introduction to, but the perpetuating of. In order to speed up the execution of the Indians, the white men would graciously supply them with blankets – blankets taken from victims of smallpox. There were countless atrocities committed against them, and for what? So that the white man could take land that didn’t belong to him and so that we could force the Indians to submit to the white way of life. It’s ludicrous how quickly the people forgot that the reason they came to this land was to escape persecution and have the opportunity to live as they wished without being oppressed and forced into a lifestyle that they didn’t want to live. And yet? They did all of that to the Indians and more.

One of the worst atrocities was in 1890 at Wounded Knee. I won’t get into it here, because it takes too long to explain. But I highly recommend that you go here and look at the pictures and read the story about what happened.

So what is it that we feared and hated so much that we had to slaughter hundreds upon thousands of Indians and destroy their way of life? Maybe it was their reverence and respect for their dead. I visited three cemeteries while I was on the reservation, and I was struck by the gravesites in every one. The unemployment rate on the res is upward of 80%, and the poverty is staggering. Yet I saw more beautiful headstones there than I have in any cemetery I’ve ever been in. Granite, marble, engravings and pictures, and so many of them had flowers planted around them or were decorated with traditional offerings. The graves of children were heartbreaking, because they are covered with toys and stuffed animals. The families visit the graves and the memories of their dead are preserved and cared for, not just buried in the ground and left there. Maybe we feared their spirituality. Their belief in a higher power and their rock solid foundation in the teachings of their tribe. They were put in catholic schools, and beaten for speaking their own language. Their hair, which is their source of strength, cut and their beliefs disallowed. Their torture and despair in the name of God so horrible that the children would run away from the school and be found dead miles away – they would rather die than forget their life and the things they held dear. Instead of respecting the dedication to their life and spirituality, we tried to extinguish it.

We did a pretty good job. At the extinguishing, I mean. I could go on and on about the way that we have treated the Indians – it’s shameful and horrible and tragic. We’ve broken every single treaty we ever made with them – every single one. And we continue to do so today. They’re relegated to land that is supposedly theirs, until the government decides that they need some of it, and they go ahead and help themselves. The Indians trust no one – not the white people, not even each other. They’ve been betrayed again and again – why would they trust anyone at their word?

I’m not saying that some of the fault doesn’t lay with the people themselves – poverty and unemployment are things that might be rectified, but at the same time, the reservation is so unbelievably hopeless sometimes. The reservation is 1.7 million acres and there is one grocery store to serve all of it. 30,000 people and one grocery store. There are farms there that grow wheat and things like that, but they’re all owned and run by white men. Because really, what bank would loan money to an Indian so that he can buy a combine and other necessary farming equipment? The reservation is dry, but just over the South Dakota/Nebraska border is the town of White Clay, Nebraska. The population is around 22 people, however the liquor sales there per year are upward of $4 million. That’s probably the reason that so many Indians die in car accidents – there aren’t any speed limits on the roads and lots of drunk drivers. About 40% of the Indians have diabetes, and the life expectancy is generally around 50 years. Few people graduate from high school and even fewer go on to college. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

Even with all of that, I love it there. The Indians that we encountered were kind and welcoming. They would give whatever they had to help you. The day we blew a tire on our bus, no less than six cars stopped to see what they could do for us. This speaks volumes for Re-Member and the respect and appreciation they’ve earned on the reservation. They employ Indians and are respectful of the traditions and ways of the Lakota people. They are there to help, not to change what the Indians believe. And by the way, they prefer to be called Indians – “Native Americans” is stupid to them because they were here long before this place was called America.

When we toured the reservation, I sat near one of the Lakota employees of Re-Member – Kelly Lookinghorse. He was a cool guy who was willing to answer the millions of questions I asked him. After about 6 hours of touring, I had more knowledge in my head than I could even sort out. We had a speaker one night who was a member of the tribal council on the reservation. I learned a lot from him as well. Everyone there has their version of history and the present – Kelly put it well when he said that the things he says are his truth, but he puts them out there – “thoughts in the air”. That way we can take what we wish from what he says and add that to what we hear from others. The other Lakota employee, Jerome, had us all over to his house where his wife had prepared Indian tacos for us with piles and piles of homemade fry bread. She must have made over 200 pieces of fry bread. One woman whose house we were at to install beds, asked us if we wanted to stay for lunch. It’s like I said – they will share whatever they have with you.

I wish I could explain all of this better. I wish you could understand what I saw and felt and experienced. But it’s impossible. You really would have to be there to understand the sadness and the joy. The despair and the hope. The need and the generosity. The pride and the history and the tragedy and the living of life. I am unbelievably lucky to be able to experience what I get to when I’m there and the opportunities I have to affect and be affected. It puts life into perspective.