The itchy and scratchy show

Look out world, I have hives!! Or at least that's what I think they are because God help us all if they are not because that would mean I have bedbugs.

They started last week with just a couple red bumps and some itching and now I have tons of red bumps and LOADS of itching. And this morning produced some nice patches of rashes spread all over.

This has never happened before, that I can remember. I'm only allergic to 3 things: sulfa, cats and math. And I have not encountered any of those recently. I'm a medical mystery. I need to go on House.

Don't worry too much about me because I've started a cycle of anti-histamines, unless you find me covered in scales because news flash: that only happens to single women over 30.

In bigger news, I am now starting up Laguna Beach: Season 1 all over again. Oh man, remember Stephen? He was so cute! And the drama with LC and Kristin? And Jessica? And EVERYONE is wearing flare jeans. Kristin even rocks a choker while grocery shopping - grocery shopping that she got to do in her Isuzu Trooper! Even if you hated that show (which would makes us not friends) then you will still enjoy this clip that makes fun of the show.

Trying to fit a square inside a circle was my life.

These hives are SO much drama.

Lights!

I could just stare at it alllllll day. Isn't it nice?

I just love Christmas. I love walking around downtown with the trees all lit up and the store fronts all decorated to the nine's.

And maybe the best part of the Holidays is that the guy who sells the mini-donuts is back!! Hooray! He sells them from this lit up cart next to the carousel across the street from my job. I've been waiting for him a whole year.

I just had to have them on Monday - so I did.

Merry Christmas from Seattle!!!

Eat me

Alright, let's get one thing out of the way right now: I like to eat.

Yeah, the rumors are true. I love food. I love putting it in my mouth and chewing it whilst savoring the flavors and textures melding together to create a symphony of ecstasy in my mouth.

Word.

When people ask me what I like to do in my spare time I tell them simply: eat. They always laugh like I'm joking. "No, seriously" I have to tell them. One of the great pleasures in life for me is researching places to eat and then eating there. Lately I've been into food trucks. Seattle has some truly great ones and I've made it to all but one so far. They move around everyday so it's fun to track them down, it's kind of like pheasant hunting (I think).

Why am I telling you this? You may already know this about me. I'll tell you. Since moving to Seattle I have had NUMEROUS people comment on how MUCH I eat. Seriously.

It happened at work first. 4 separate times.

1. Co-worker walks in to the kitchen as I sit down to my delicious bowl of soup for lunch and says "wow, that's a really big portion for one person. Are you going to eat all of that?". OF COURSE I AM.

2. Sitting down to my Chinese noodles and veggies. Co-worker #2 says "I can't believe you just ate ALL of that!". OF COURSE I DID.

3. We have cupcakes for a co-workers birthday one day. I wanted to try all the flavors. My boss says "Are you really going to eat more of those??". OF COURSE I AM.

4. Too many other instances to mention at work. Honestly, they act like I'm trying to train for the IFOC (international federation of championship eating). I'm just a fan. They think I'm a pig.

5. I'm at a conference yesterday downtown and I had a small breakfast and by the time noon came around I was starving... They served us my favorite crab bisque in a cup. Mmmmm I polished it of. Next up a grilled chicken salad. I ate it up. The waiter comes up to me leans over and says "do you need more to eat?" and then he starts to laugh. He didn't ask any of the other 127 women if they needed more to eat.

6. Later that night at the same conference we had a cocktail hour with cheese and crackers and fried ravioli (new to me and delicious!). I get a small plate and take it to a table of ladies I've never met before. We chat while I eat my sparse pickings and then I decide I want a little more cheese so I went back to the food table. The new ladies from my table were also there getting some grub and one says "look who's back for seconds!!!!" to me. REALLY.

I'm getting it right and left. Friend or foe, they all say the same thing. I have to wonder if they live in the same city as me. There is SO much great food here! How can they not want to eat it all? Especially with me? I'm really fun to eat with! I love it so much that sometimes I make noises that I'm unaware of like "mmmm", "mmmm". Yeah, I mutter delicious sounds while I enjoy my meal. Who cares?

Everyone gets their kicks and giggles somehow. I'm not judging you for taking spin class at the unearthly hour of 5am or maxing out your Nordstrom card. Go forth and enjoy yourself!

Just stop making me feel like the fat kid. Because you know what? I am.

I'm phat. Holla.

Something that says...Leather Daddy

There are a few things that I'm afraid of in the fashion world.

Mini-skirts, batwing sleeves, chenille, letterman's jackets (and more specifically, suede), corset tops, turtle-necks and leather jackets.

Some because I can't pull them off (mini=skirts) and others because no one can pull them off (batwing sleeves and corset tops). Others for no other reason than I just can't do it (leather jackets).

But I changed my tune two days ago.

I saw this leather jacket about two months ago and instantly fell in love with it. Like fatal attraction fell in love with it. But there was NO WAY I was going to pay full price for it. I don't even like leather jackets. I have a serious aversion to leather jackets (on me).

I don't exactly know where this came from. I love leather shoes and bags and fur coats and even leather accessories - but I have a strict no leather jacket and pants policy. Yeah, you read that right. I won't wear leather pants either.

And yes, I've tried both. My mother owns dozens of leather pants, literally. And I mean she actually has probably a dozen pairs of leather pants - not that way Rachel Zoe would say literally. And you know what? She looks amazing in them. She pulls them off quite nicely. In fact, she pulls off everything she tries to wear quite nicely and believe you me...she has tried to wear everything.

And she has tried to push me into leather many times. The farthest I got was one leather skirt in baby blue which is pretty awesome, but that's it. She even bought me my own pair of leather pants... TWICE! I tried. Really, I did. But as soon as I took a step and it sounded like I needed to grease my squeaky joints I chickened out. Some of you may have the luxury of never feeling your inner thighs but I am quite familiar with mine and the last thing I need is leather rubbing together to accentuate that.

She bought me jackets both suede and not and every time they ended up in her closet. They just give me the willies. Plus they remind me of Ross on Friends.

But back to the jacket. I stalked it (which is where the fatal attraction comes in to play). For the past 2 months I have periodically gone back to check on it. You know, see how's it doing, check the price, make sure no one else has kept the price artificially inflated.

And I've been faithful. I even tried it on once and decided it didn't look that good. But nonetheless I have thought about it every. single. day. since then. I would look out my office window at the store down below and wonder what it was doing.

So finally after stopping at another store I thought I should just go and check on it one more time....

There was only one left in my size. Panic! So I put it on, took pictures of myself in it and then tried to talk myself out of it. I really did. But there was no denying just how cool I looked in it.

Totally cool.

So I took it home where it belonged and at less than half price no less.

I really do look cool. I'll prove it. There's a million picture of me in it on my phone. But you only get one:

Ok, two.

And here is a link that will take you to a video montage of Rachel Zoe misusing the word literally. Literally.

http://jezebel.com/5599824/rachel-zoe-literally-repeats-herself

A frightfully looong post

Rain falls....angry on the tin roof. It stops me and steals my breathe...

Just kidding. But seriously, it has been raining A LOT here lately. Which I know is annoying of me to say because duh, I live in Seattle. But is it more annoying than that song? I don't think so. What do I expect? Well, I expected a summer that I never really got but I won't go into that.

What I didn't expect this year was to have Halloween burn-out so early. I think my Halloween lamp went out about a week ago. Rough. I LOVE Halloween. Love, love, love it. Partly because I have such great memories of my Dad making Halloween super awesome and partly because I like some things that others might consider morbid. I love bones and skulls and anatomy and even owls and black cats and spiders (all in moderation of course).

I love dressing up and getting into character and let's face it, I usually win the costume competition - it runs in the blood. I have these AMAZING vintage anatomy posters from 1961, 65 in all, that I got from my old boss at the BYU Law Library years ago. I found them in a box in his office that I snooped in and asked him what he was going to do with them. "Throw them away" he replied. No! I exclaimed. Can I please, please have them I begged? "For what?" he wanted to know. To put them up in my house! "Why would you want to do that? That's gross" he told me. So I told him I thought they were beautiful and I took them home and from then on they have always had a place in my house, wherever that was at the time, and they aren't going anywhere soon. Here is my favorite which will never be rotated out while I go through my catalog:

Isn't she a beaute? I know. And then years later when I married a med student they really came in handy. Only everyone thought they were his. As if. If we were to sign a post-nup they would go to me and only me. Sorry Ricky. I'm not even sorry. I love them that much.

So this year when October rolled around I got all excited about planning a Halloween party for the youth I work with at church. It was pretty labor intensive and I loved every minute of it. Here are some things I made:

Witches fingers with crunchy bones inside:

Spider cupcakes and merengue ghosts:

And I made this mummy head with a styrofoam head and paper towels soaked in coffee and carefully dried for two days accompanied with the witches fingers:

But after that and decorating pumpkins the next week and blah, blah, blah I got tired. Soooo tired. And now we have 1 more festivity to go to on Saturday night and I can't come up with a costume. No joke. I got nothin. And this is usually my forte.

Help. Seriously. My reputation is at sake! I NEED to win that costume contest or I might. just. die.

Circle Up

I have dark circles under my eyes.

Really. I started to notice them about a month ago and couldn't understand why I was suddenly getting them. Then on Saturday Ricky was staring at me intently and then he reached out with his index finger to touch the delicate skin between my eye and nose. "Why is it so dark around your eye?" he said as he poked and prodded.

I'm not old enough for dark circles under my eyes. I have no children to give me dark circles under my eyes. I'm thanking my lucky stars that they aren't bags though, cause those are baa-ad.

But still. So I analyzed why I might possibly be bruising from the inside out. Work has been a little more stressful with the mountains of new responsibilities being piled on me everyday. My church responsibilities take up a lot of my time that could otherwise be spent on the couch with fresh cucumbers on my eyes. I have been wearing some pretty tight pants lately, maybe I've cut off my circulation. I don't get as much sleep as I'd like but who does?

But I think I've figured it out - or at least I hope so. Poor nutrition.

It never ceases to amaze me that what I eat can have such an affect on me. Normally I have a pretty sweet nutritional set-up going on. I've become very good at supplementing my diet to make up for the things I don't eat. And if it wasn't for my wicked sweet tooth I'd probably look like Cindy Crawford (after all her kids, I have to be realistic on this one).

You know what tipped me off? Meat. I don't really like it. We don't really have it in the house. Even when we go out I opt for the veggie option most of the time. But lately I've been scarfing it down when we go out and have some. That's not normal. I can only remember a couple of times that this has happened in my life. And every time it's because I have gotten lazy with my nutrition.

So I pledge to do better. To eat better. To get rid of these hideous dark circles under my eyes. Because heavens knows I need all the help I can get in the picture taking department.

And then my blood boils

This is going to be a little therapeutic for me because I almost just had a rage blackout and need to get it off my chest.

You see, someone insulted one of my siblings on the interweb. I love a good tease, especially if it involves a sibling. I'm the first one to step in and throw the jabs and then maybe take it too far but it's all in love and comedy. What I don't like is someone being malicious to someone I love. I will cut you.

And the only way for me to write it out and not trigger another rager is to do it high school style.

Background:

Someone posted something about health care on a social site. C'mon people, this is a hot-button topic. If you post it, they will write about it.

So then he says "DON'T YOU EVER..." in all caps

and then "I don't know who you are..."

and then he gets all western with "there will be bad blood..."

and then in my head I was all "I drink your milkshake, I drink it up..."

So he finishes with "I'm a medical professional..."

And then I was all "medical professional my eye".

Phew. It feels good to finally get that out there, albeit very segmented and un-intelligable.

I feel better already.

A la cart

There was a lady on the train today who was selling a shopping cart for $75. I didn't want to mess up her sale so I refrained from letting the other passengers know that they could have their own shopping cart for free. All they had to do was pick it out and take it from their local grocer.

Fortunately, and not too surprisingly there were no takers. I felt sympathy for her. I wanted to walk over to her and say "I know, it's hard. I've been there too." But I didn't because a) I was not going to give up my seat and b) I'm not sure she was in the right frame of mind for a heart-to-heart right then and there.

I used to own a shopping cart once. Well, maybe less owned and more in possession of one. Possession meaning I took it home with me one day from the creamery by my dorm.

It was so fun at first. "Hey! Is that a shopping cart in the middle of your room?!" people would ask. "Awesome!" or "Why?". Why not? It was cool. Or at least it felt cool. Two different things.

And it served us well. It provided some much needed storage in our tiny cell-like dorm room. It held books and whatever cans I had gotten from "shopping" in my parents pantry. It could hold shoes or pillows and any odd knick-knacks lying around. And we thoroughly enjoyed it. Until....

One day it was just too much. It took up too much space. Even though it was just a mini-cart. In our room it felt like it kept expanding and soaking up our much needed oxygen. Compound that with a zebra blow-up lounger, two beds, two desks and a bigger than life sized fiberglass Ronald McDonald statue that some one had stolen from a McDonald's and it was all just a little TOO MUCH. Something had to go. Especially since it had become the dumping ground for anything we didn't want or have a place to put away. It became like that chair you put in your room so you can relax and read a good book but instead becomes the resident clothes-dumping chair that sees the light of day every few weeks for a couple of hours before it is once again consumed under cotton and wool.

So I did what any responsible person does with something they don't want anymore.

I left it outside somewhere.

So yeah Lady, I get it. Maybe it's time to lower your cost and do a short sale so you can get out from under that thing.

Let there be Peace

I'm having a little bit of a personal crisis right now. I have gone through every range of emotion the past couple of weeks and I stopped just short of laying down on the bathroom floor and sobbing hysterically.

It's been really hard for me and I just don't know how to fix it.

Oh wait, I know how. Obliterate my personal demons: fruit flies.

That's right, Drosophila melanogaster as they are scientifically known. They are tormenting my life and are a constant nuisance. We have had just about zero mosquitos this year but the fruit flies are in over drive.

And the worst part? They seem to be a very narcissistic insect. I always find them on my bathroom mirror. What are they looking at? Here I come to my bathroom trying to use my mirror to stare at my pores and there they are....taunting me.

I have officially turned into the father from A Christmas Story who has the same situation going on with his furnace. You can often find me in the bathroom with the door closed banging things, whipping my towel around and clapping my hands muttering almost terrible things under my breath. They haunt me. I am constantly running around the house clapping my hands like a crazy person because no one can see what I am chasing. It kind of reminds me of the dragonfly parking lot incidence of '97 which some of you may have heard.

Humiliating. They have turned me into an obsessed, neurotic Entomophobian , or someone who is afraid of insects. Except I'm not really afraid of the fruit fly. Just obsessed with bringing about it's demise.

P.S. Just wait Jana and Stephen. You might regret having us at your house if I see some nasty bugs...

WHit-Whit-Hooray!

OK, so here is the obligatory "someone came to visit" post. But it's more like a "we had a really good time and you should all know it" post.

My friend Whit came all the way from sunny San Diego to our lovely mostly clouded over Washington but we had a GREAT time anyway. If I keep telling you how much fun we had, will you believe me? Will some pictures help?

Ok.

It started with the best view of the city which I missed because I had my eyes closed

Then onto the obligatory trip to Pike's Place Market which is always a good time - especially when you come home with pounds of clams and scallops....mmmmmm.

And then while still at the market we had to see the famous "gum wall". Yeah, it's exactly how it sounds, FULL of gum. *Wretching sounds*.

Then on Saturday we headed over to Whidbey Island to see Deception Pass which is a giant, narrow, tall, skinny, scary bridge of death that Ricky and Whit decided were NOT going to make them toss their breakfast.

I on the other hand couldn't make more than 20 ft before I thought I would pass out and fall overboard into the swirling whirlpools below. I don't do heights well. At all.

We capped the view off with the biggest most delicious cinnamon and orange rolls on the island in a cute bakery overlooking the bay. Oh me-oh-my.

Then everybody got SUPER EXCITED (as evidenced by this picture) to walk along Lake Washington

And there is no better way to cap off a fun-filled vacation then hit the swings. Their faces have been covered to protect the innocent - or you could picture them wacking their noggins on the post which is what I like to do. It's a personal choice.

Also, doesn't Ricky's shadow remind you of the Air Jordan logo?

And I didn't even get around to all the delicious food we ate and ate and ate and ate. Mmmmmm. Especially the ice cream that turned Whit into an adoring fan of Ricky's mad Pac-Man skills - NEW HIGH SCORE!!!

If you come visit I promise to do some of these things with you...

The Science of Sleep - or the lack thereof

Oh my, I was so cranky this morning. I just kept getting woken up WAY before my alarm was to go off. And if you know me even the slightest bit then you already know that I like to sleep, and I do NOT like to be woken up even 5 seconds before my alarm goes off. I have already allotted the perfect amount of sleep I will need and I care not to deviate from that.

And I will let you know - although somewhat groggily and unintelligibly.

And all this lack of sleep led to an email to Ricky that read: "If I have to cook dinner tonight I will kill myself ". And I meant it really dramatic. Kind of like this:


So tonight we are having Thai take-out and it looks like I'll be around to see another day.

Panic at the Disco.

I panic all the time now when I'm going to the bathroom.

I have this mental checklist that I go through in a split second while I'm taking care of business; did I take my pants off? Did I take my underwear off? Am I actually on the toilet or is this a dream? Is everything making it inside the toilet?

Because every single one of those things have happened to me.

I hate it.

What should be a pleasant experience that leaves me feeling relieved has been turned into a pure panic room experience.

I feel like I've been robbed. And this panic is a pretty recent phenomenon even though it's been a couple of years since any of the aforementioned incidences.

And going #1 used to be my #2 favorite feeling after sneezing.

Creepy Crawley

I keep finding giant spiders in our house and I'm afraid that we are starting to live Arachnophobia. Seriously. Not just little spiders that hop out once in a while, but BIG black spiders that like to crawl really, really fast.

And if that wasn't bad enough the last two times they have crawled out from among our clothes. What? Are they hatching eggs in my shirts? Are they mating in my socks? I'm not even afraid of spiders but even I have the hebe-ge-bees at this point. I'm hoping that it's because its been a little bit colder than usual in the mornings and that's why they are coming inside to just warm up a bit and then go back outside until winter.

Right? Tell me that is right.

Cause otherwise I'm going to have to burn all of my clothes to make sure all the eggs are set a flame and I really like my clothes. Especially all the things I've never worn because I was saving them for a "special occasion".

P.S. Totally unrelated: I caught an episode of Plain Jane on the CW while I was writing this and I may have teared up a little when the plain jane's crush liked her back and they kissed. The spiders are making me weak.

No alopecia here

I have this theory that when you fly all your hair grows much faster.

I'm not sure if it's the altitude, the cabin pressure or your immune system in overload but sure enough I always have WAY more eyebrow hairs to pluck when I'm fresh off an airplane ride.

I tried to tell my friend Taradise this once while we were co-habiting a hotel room for work. "See all my new eyebrow hairs?" I said trying to sway her opinion after my long flight. But she didn't believe me. So I wavered in my theory. "Maybe it's just the extra bright lights in the bathroom that are just showing more?" I said. "Yeah, that has to be it" she assured me.

But in my heart of hearts I knew that I was on to something. So on my recent trip to the Outer Banks I shared my theory once again with my two sister-in-laws. I told them to go ahead and test it for themselves on their way home.

Sure enough I received a text from 2nd sister on her way home to Hawaii that read "You're right. My leg hair did grow faster on the plane. Weird.".

Boo-yeah. I knew I was on to something. Now if I could only develop some sort of Nair for airplanes or better yet, an airplane hair-blocker that somehow works with the cabin pressure to suppress hair growth. Naturally they would sell it exclusively in the skymall catalog which is the best. Seriously. Hours of entertainment can be found amongst it's pages. Never before have I wanted to buy SO much equipment to spy on people than when I'm perusing the skymall catalog. I also really want to get steps for the pet I don't have to be able to get on my bed, the inflatable lap pillow for long flights, a facial exerciser and the cushy gel things that wrap around your calves that kind of look like a boot. Oh, and if I had a pool I would totally buy those floating solar panels that look like blankets to keep it warm.

I want so many things...

Letter to a friend

Dear Taradise,

I hear there are fires in California right now. I hear lot's of people have had to leave their homes and go elsewhere.

I know they are probably not close to you but can you smell the fire? Does it make all your clothes smell like you've been camping? Do you find yourself constantly wanting hotdogs and grilled onions? Whenever you go outside do you have to do the human rotisserie move where you rotate your body to keep warm while one side stays frigid - except you are the reverse and you try and keep one side cool while the other one threatens to singe?

Is all the smoke headed to Calabasas because smoke follows beauty? Have you done an FHE yet where everyone competes to see who can get closest to the fire? Are you blaming it all on the Governator? Or how about BP?

I'm worried about you. Mostly because I hear that flame retardant kills birds too. Do you see any dead birds?

Also, I'm very curious what 5 things you would grab on your way out the door if you had to evacuate.

Let me know how you are.

Love me

A hot mess

I just got back from vacation last night. A vacation that I truly needed to save my soul even though the vacation itself almost cost me the very soul I needed to save.

It's true.

Every trainwreck of a human being deserves a break every once in a while. I can't even begin to go into detail about all of the terrible things I did to myself in the span of a week. But I can give you a condensed version.

-I realized 30 minutes before my Young Women's class that I had to teach the lesson because I read the calendar wrong.

-I forgot to do all manner of things at work during the week which included forgetting to wear a bra to work one day - a day that I had to go with the CEO to meet the head of Bank of America in Seattle. And honestly, I went through a whole hour of work before I even noticed. And then I didn't do anything about it.

-I accidentally cancelled everyone's hotel rooms for the first night of the vacation 3 days before we were supposed to leave. That's right, 5 rooms cancelled in a resort town. Awesome. I felt really good about that one.

-On the morning of the trip I awoke to find that I had set my alarm for 7 PM instead of 7 AM and had to scramble to get ready and run to the airport.

I can't remember anything else because I think I don't want to. But mostly I think I can't remember anything else because I lost SO much sleep from being terrorized by my neighbors cat.

That's right. Literally being terrorized by the feline next door. That story comes next time.

But let me report that post-vacation I'm glowing and I totally remembered to wear a bra to work today.

Up top!

Housekeeping...want me fluff your pillow?

For over a week now I've been hoping to come home and open the toilet seat in my bathroom and see nothing but sparkling clean water that I would be proud to have anyone drink out of.

But alas, stay away from my toilet.

Have you ever toyed with the idea of having someone come and clean your house? Well I have. I do, actually. I'm toying with it right now. I'm just dying to take a sip of my toilet water already, alright?

But I couldn't actually do it. Even though mentally I have nothing bad to say about it. I'd be stimulating the economy and someone else's wallet. I wouldn't have to do anything myself and I'm great at word of mouth advertising if I've tried the product and love it. But I just. can't. spend the money.

I grew up in a regular house with an irregular mother who was a neat freak. Really. In fact, when she broke her foot almost 2 years ago we all said it was karma because she broke it while vacuuming a flat surface. Ha. Even though the foot-break was no laughing matter.

We had our chores and we knew them very well. Every saturday morning we had to change the sheets on our bed, clean our rooms and then tackle our respectively assigned house duties before we could do anything. That's right, no bed change and double stair vacuuming and waxing? No friends or fun. That's right, I said stair waxing once a week (I had that injustice).

I hated it. But like it or not it became a routine. A routine that stuck with me, although very loosely in college. And when I got married and really had my own place it came back full force. And I like that I kept a clean house. And up until this last move I was dutifully carrying out my saturday duties every saturday.

Then we moved. Now we have levels. Levels man. They are a whole new ball game. You clean one and then you have two more to go. What gives? My levels aren't even that spacious, they are just stacked on one another. Which means that for me my saturday cleaning rituals have been relegated to one level a week. Which means that the others stay neglected for two weeks at a time. No bueno.

But I think my toilet level is getting preferential treatment this weekend and jumping the line.

It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left ya

I'm still here. I swear.

Where have I been? Let's see.

A little over a week ago I went back to Utah and went to the water park with the nephews. That's not the only reason I went - but in their minds it was. I had fun.

Monday I went to Sacramento and then came home. What a hole. Seriously. I just... I don't know what else to say about it.

On Friday I'm going to Canada. I figured what better place to celebrate our Nation's independence then across the border? They have wunderbars. Plus, all packaged food there has a french translation. It makes those famous Canadian ketchup chips c'est fancy, no?

I want to be pregnant. But let's get one thing straight: I do NOT want to have a baby. I just want to feel what it's like to be pregnant but not actually have a kid. I'm not ready for that yet. I want my own tight belly that keeps my body furnace nice and toasty.

Don't worry, I'm not going to do it. I'm not that stupid.

I want sun-kissed highlights, but I want to do them myself.

And lastly, I want me time to just be me. Ahem, Ricky. Quit coming in here and asking me questions.

Can Jersey Shore start already?

Goooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllll!!

Summer is here and there is NOTHING to watch. Seriously. I have resorted to streaming the bachelorette while exercising. I hate that show. It is a veritable bag of douche-ery. But yet I still do it.

I even got Dear John from the redbox last week which I guess isn't that surprising seeing as how I watch almost everything that looks terrible. But it was SO bad. Like bleeding eyes bad. And the story made me angry - like literally angry. I threw a freshly matched pile of socks at Ricky to emphasis my rage. Why would you EVER marry someone just because you felt sorry for them? Especially when there is HOT soldier pinning after you halfway around the world? Ugh. It disgusted me and is now my second most hated movie after A walk to remember starring my least favorite person ever, Mandy Moore. Seriously. Sure kids, get married just so you can have sex and not feel guilty about it before you die. It sounds like the human version of a story my friend Stasy once told me; her sister lets her animals have a sexual escapade before she fixes them. Really? Really.

My only saving grace right now is the World Cup. I love it. Love, love, love it. It is the only time I read the sports section of the paper or watch ESPN (if I had cable). I love a dose of healthy competition amongst countries where it is ok to occasionally yell slurs of all kinds at the tv. Soccer games have an energy to them that no other sport comes close to possessing. Sure, hockey fans throw octopus on the ice, baseball has streakers and basketball has celebrities courtside but soccer has stabbings, riots and deadly trampling. I kind of imagine that's what the Roman arenas felt like when the gladiators were fighting to the death but with less air horns.

Plus, soccer games have the added bonus of WAG's or wives and girlfriends of the players. They are just as entertaining as the games, if not more. Starring my favorite WAG of all time: Victoria Beckham of course. Sometimes when they show pictures of the WAG's at the games I find myself wondering, was there a confusion over what type of venue they thought they were going too or did they just come straight from a non-stop night of clubbing? If they aren't careful they could encounter some Waglash (no, I didn't make that up).

Did anyone see the U.S. vs. England today? Am I alone in my World Cup loving?

Rainy days and weekdays....and weekends

I had a touch of the melancholies tonight. It's been raining here for over a week and it's beginning to get to me. I made it through all the rainstorms of the winter without experiencing very much of the gloominess everyone said would plague me. It was winter, the weather is bad most places. As long as it didn't snow I was happy.

But it's JUNE for crying out loud! And the rain outside today wasn't a pleasant pitter patter against my roof, it was sheets of rain coming down the windows which made it seem like I was living in a constant car wash but without all the fun brushing action and noises that come with that.

And it's not like when it snows in the mountains in June in Utah. C'mon, who cares? It's in the MOUNTAINS people, not your back yard.

And the weird thing is we hardly ever have thunder and lightning like a normal rainstorm. The rain here prefers to be a little bit of a wall flower amongst natures storms I guess.

It brings back memories of being little and sitting on the porch with my dad when there were big thunder storms. We would just sit there and smell the rain and count one-one thousand, two-one thousand, etc. every time we would see lightning until the thunder hit figuring out how far away it was. It always freaked me out a little bit when I didn't get past one-one..... And my dad would tell me what his mother used to tell him; the thunder was just the sound of the angels in heaven playing with bowling balls and when the balls collided they made a huge thunder down below. Which is a WAY better story than vampires playing baseball. Honestly, why baseball? Why not something cool like jai alai?

I guess what I'm trying to say is I need some Vitamin D and I miss you.

Dress for Less

I feel like every time I go to a Ross I come home and exclaim "now THAT'S the worst Ross I've ever been to". I've said this twice in the last month. And it seems that they get progressively worse over time but yet, I still go.

But this last one truly may have been the WORST. I went there as a split second decision while out shopping yesterday. I had been searching high and low for curtains for our living room that are patterned and not going to blow up my wallet. But I just couldn't find the right ones.

So I had this brilliant idea (if I do say so myself) to look at the table clothes and see if something suited my fancy. Well they did indeed suit my fancy and then some. I found the cutest fabric and in the perfect size. All I had to do was sew the top edge over a couple of inches to make a loop for the curtain rod and Voila! Curtains!

But it was what I had to go through to get them that make them truly great. The Ross was PACKED that day my friends. Packed. With screaming children and smelly people. People from all over God's green earth were hunting the aisles for bargains - some so deep in search that they let the toy section be their nanny. Children were running around everywhere opening all the boxes and dragging everything across the floor. And where were the employees you might ask? Puh-lease. This is Ross. They don't do that.

So there I was trying to dodge the dodgey and just get to the tablecloths when it began. EVERY aisle I turned down produced someone with a hacking cough or uncontrollable sneezing attack. I could not escape it. I felt the germs showering down around me crowding into my nostrils. And just like an airplane, I new those confined spaces were going to get me. I was going to get whatever they had.

I felt just like this...

Snooze Fest

I woke up (after the second time) this morning with the best intentions.

"I have SO much to do" I announced to Ricky. Then I rattled off a list of all the things I had on my plate to do today.

And I started my list. I cleaned my bathroom and the bathroom downstairs and put some laundry in.

Then I sat down on the couch to eat my delicious toast and egg over easy while watching some deleted scenes from freaks and geeks.

After which I felt tired and promptly fell asleep on the couch.

Then I ate some vitamins and tried to resume my list. I changed the laundry and then it was time to eat lunch. I made a delicious curry chickpea and leek salad and then I did do some more laundry. But most of the time I just watched tv on my computer.

And I don't feel bad in the slightest. This is the saturday I've been dreaming about for weeks. I need to catch up on being lethargic. It feels good. Really, really good. And I'm not answering my phone either. Try me.

And tonight we are going out for the "best Mole in Seattle".

So I'll probably take another nap before AND after that too.

The scarlet letter

So today when I got to work I noticed a little sticky note attached to a file folder on my desk.

It was from my boss who is the CEO of the company, in case I forgot (it said in parenthesis).

It was a little odd. I wasn't sure what to make of it. Was it a bad joke? So I threw it in the recycling bin under my desk and forgot about it.

Much later that afternoon I was replacing the toner in one of our printers and he came mozying by. "Oh, I'm so tired today" he yawned.

"Well, it's the afternoon and that happens" I replied.

"Yeah, I went out last night and drank some wine with one of my friends. Then I decided to come to the office later that night and get my mail. Did I ......... write you a note? He inquired a little sheepishly.

"Yup" I said.

"Oh, was it a little weird?"

"Yes siree" I answered with my most non-chalant voice.

And that's it. The moment I got the upper hand.

So did I keep the note?

You know it.

Over-easy

Why are french fries so awesome? No really, this is not a rhetorical question. Why?

Every time I eat them I wonder why I don't eat them more. So simple and so perfect. My family in Spain eats them everyday. No really, every day. Although to be fair they cook theirs in olive oil. It doesn't matter what the main meal consists of it will always be accompanied with french fries. Always.

Chicken? French fries. Fish? French fries. Beef? French fries. Stew? French fries. It is the one common denominator of their meals. You can even get hot french fries out of a vending machine in some parts of Spain. No joke.

Not only that, but every meal consists of a starch (potatoes) and a carb (bread). Otherwise it just wouldn't be a meal. Doesn't that sound great?

In fact, my 96 year old Abuela is SO used to having a piece of bread at every meal to help her load her food onto her fork that I once witnessed her using an eggroll at a Chinese restaurant to push her fried rich onto her fork. She held that eggroll the entire meal in her left hand while she ate and used it as a utensil. Talk about adapting to a new environment.

So tonight for dinner we had french fries (and I snuck a few sweet potato fries in there as well) with fried eggs - a favorite of my mom's family and me.

Hits the spot everytime.

Music to my ears - NOT

Holy Crap. One day Ricky decided to do something on my computer machine and therefore had to take off anything and everything that was in my computer and put it into some other time capsule and then re-put it all back after he tinkered with all the parts. And because of this all the playlists on my iTunes were deleted.

I want to stab someone.

And now whenever I want to listen to music when getting ready in the morning or window shopping online I can never find what I want to listen to. Which is how I ended up first trying to listen to Ben Folds Five, then Cheap Trick and now I'm on to Coldplay and over that too. Playlists are essential for me. I make them according to whatever mood I'm in and right now that mood is frustrated.

And sure, I could make some more but I'm too lazy. Honestly, I made all those lists when I was single and I can't muster the strength anymore. Dinner wipes me out people. I'm thinking of installing a fainting couch next to the kitchen when I just.can't. take it anymore. Right now I just use the floor which is infinitely better since we are back to carpet.

And if you were to look at my iTunes you would understand why I can't just put it on random. It's full of crap. I mean I have Ludacris next to Luis Miguel. Why do I even have Luis Miguel? I've never listened to it - oh that's right, thanks Josh. When I first got an ipod I had my friend Josh (Mo's better half) give me some music but by some freaky friday incident or the fact that we clicked the wrong button I got ALL his music which really brought about this down fall because I listen to about 20% of what he gave me. But I'm too tired to go through and delete things. But wait, that's not entirely true. One day I got just enough wind to delete the Les Miserable soundtrack and all the Rolling Stones because I hate them both SO much. Yeah, I've never seen Les Miserable's and so I don't like it. Get over it. Oh, and while we are on the subject I've never seen the movie Titanic and I don't plan on it. How do you like that? Look, if you are going to protest then take your pick: Les Miserables, Titanic or reading the Twilight books, what's it gonna be? I'm too tired for more than one (and don't say Titanic because NO).

The funny thing is that Josh and I are almost the same person except for the fact that as much as I have tried I really just don't like Mogwai. I need words and I'm not entirely sure who they are anyway.

So long story even longer Ricky, you are the reason I now watch "It's always sunny in Philadelphia" while getting ready for work so I don't have to run back to the computer every minute and 20 seconds to change the song to something I actually like.

Which is why I don't really feel bad that I told you in the car this morning that it's been too long since I got a present.

Love you so much.

Wall paper

We have all these new walls in our new house and now we have to figure out what to do with them.

But Ricky is sick. Sick with a nasty virus. I web MD'd him and it turns out he has the "I only like what I like" virus. It's really hard to get rid of. I've decided the only cure is for me to first barrage him so long that he gives in and if that doesn't work then I'll have to go behind his back.

It's really the only way.

I want this picture by Georgia O'Keefe somewhere in the house:

I just love it - and I love poppies too.

Mark my words, when you come and visit you will find it somewhere. Even if I have to drug him with the very thing in this picture...opium.

But don't worry, it's not all head butting around here. We made a major milestone when I got him to agree that botanical prints aren't always "grandma".

Don't you love it?

Now will someone please explain to me why illustrations of plants cost so much money? E-gads.

Cross Country

Hey everybody, this lady came all the way from Chicago to see me (and everyone else in her family who all live here)! And she flew with the worlds most active toddler and new baby....can someone get her a cold beverage and place to put her feet up? My hero.

Don't be fooled by this picture though. Chicago is only this nice for about 2 weeks a year. You're either fighting to stay alive and not lose any appendages to frost bite or dying of heat exhaustion and the eventual consuming of your remains by mosquitos.

You should got visit!

Bite Me

It seems that I incurred the wrath of the animal kingdom this week. Why? I watch Life. I appreciate and fear all things animal - especially Hippos because did you know they are actually really dangerous and want to kill you? Yeah.

We were over at a friends house Monday night and his kitty, if you can call the killer that, decided to deceive me by being all lovable and soft and then after a few minutes decided that I was now prey and began to bite me. And as I watched she did it to everyone else. Including our friend who feeds and houses it - which now explains the scars all over his hands. What? Isn't there a cat whisperer somewhere who can help?

Then on Tuesday I went to another friends house to plan a baby shower and their puppy was so excited to see me that it piddled all over the floor. Once again it was so loving and cuddly and then the switch happened. It began to naw on me and when I made her stop she turned to chewing my shoes with my feet still in inside. What? And when that was stopped she began chewing on my gorgeous grey sweater coat. Not OK. But what are you supposed to do? You are at someone's house being attacked by their animal, it's not like you can kick it.

Or can you?

You may think its cute that your dog is chewing on my sweater and has destroyed your pillows and defecated on the floor but I just go into terminator mode in my head and through my eyes I see the target in night vision and begin to seek and destroy. If your animal can't behave itself when company comes over then put it in a different room. Unless you don't want anyone to come over anymore and voila! As you wish.

And to make matters worse Ricky waited until the next day to notify me that "cat scratch fever" is actually a really serious disease that you can catch. And to think all these years I just thought Ted Nugent was really creative - which he still is. Hello, he's Ted Nugent.

Adieu

Well.........

We are off to St. Lucia!!!

And no, we had our tickets BEFORE the bachelor aired. Gross.

My vitamin D quotient is about to get off the hook!

Yeee-OWWWW

Tonight I payed someone to humiliate me.

And it was painful - literally.

I got sugared. Not sure what that is? Click here.

I've been waxed before and every time I had something on, mine or theirs. So this time I had something on and she came in and said..."no honey, nothing from the waist down".

O-kay.

Oh the lights. The lights illuminating everything.

All in the name of this:

It was so bad I needed my favorite thai noodles to restore my soul a little bit. It barely helped.

And no, I don't think I will ever get used to it. I like to keep to myself.

Yup.

I did some embarrassing things today.

At a place full of other people.

I was at a marketing conference for work at the local posh sports club/events center downtown. I was there to get a little experience and meet some people.

Long story short I flung my dirty lunch knife into my purse on the floor without knowing because I was too busy stuffing my starving face. I didn't figure it out until the guy it narrowly missed sitting next to me retrieved it and put it back on the table next to me. I like to keep our sponsors on their toes - or maybe cut off their toes.

And the next one was bad. I had been having a little.....gas. And I had been releasing it in small quantities quietly sitting by myself in the back. No harm, no foul. It was like Iocane powder - odorless, tasteless and dissolved instantly. Anyway, 15 min before the close of the conference it happened. You guessed it. It was audible. Short and loud. And there was no one sitting next to me. Only the people around me heard and I totally tried to play it off like it wasn't me. I actually made a big deal of making a really offended face like it was someone by me and I was grossed out. Whatever, they knew. They all knew.

Mortified.

Love thy neighbors as thyself

I was driving home with Ricky yesterday and I asked him, "Is this city making me a different person"?

And I didn't mean in a good way.

Seattle has many wonderful things to offer the human spirit. It's green and the weather is temperate. There are 3 professional sports teams here and access to the ocean with it's abundance of seafood for me to eat. There is fabulous shopping and whale watching and the city itself is totally walkable, which is wonderful. If you want to eat all the multiple grains of the world you have them all at your fingertips and people here actually use reusable shopping bags. And I have said time and time again that giving birth and being a mother in Seattle must be amazing because you have every sort of birthing program your heart could desire. Also, the mothers here wear WHATEVER they want - attractive or not. Awesome.

But...

It rains a lot in winter (which actually hasn't been that bad), people get mad if you don't use a reusable shopping bag (true story) and there are a lot of people who don't shave - male and female. It's a bit pricey to live here and lately people have been picking off our police force which is no bueno for anyone. And all the neighborhoods have pockets of good and bad which gets really confusing when looking for housing.

The last bit of that is why I think Seattle is making me a not so good person. We happen to live in a medium part. A cool neighborhood that is up and coming. The problem with that is we are between the up part and the coming part. We sort of live in the hood...sort of. And I find myself just judging every hoodlum that hangs out on our street corner. I have no hope for them. Not one part of me wants to help them in any way when I look into their vacant eyes. I just wish they would go away. I don't care where, just away from here.

I don't like feeling like that.

It's such a pessimistic view. I've never thought of myself that way. I'm a realist, but an optimistic one. I'm wondering if the way I feel is just a bi-product of living in a big city or if it really is just me.

Don't look at me

They say that eyes are the window to the soul.

If that is true then I say eyebrows are the windows to your face.

And my eyebrows are sending mixed messages.

Should we go up or down? Right or left? Curl or not curl?

They can't get it right - and neither can I.

Because I am afflicted with what can only be described as "parental halfsies" (one side of my body reflects my mother, the other side reflects my dad. To be more specific: Left side mom, right side dad) I have had an awful time getting the eyebrows to reflect their close genetic link.

My left eyebrow is lovely and curves elegantly at just the right place. The hairs tend to group nicely and evenly making a very aesthetically pleasing picture. My right eyebrow on the other hand is very unruly. Just imagine having one of YOUR dad's eyebrows on your face.

No bueno.

It requires all my time and attention and it's just a distraction really.

I'm now considering having them "shaped" in hopes that someone else might be able to do what I never could: make my face windows shine!

I'm so sick of looking at myself in pictures and seeing what can only be described as thin koosh balls on my face.

A pat on the back

I had a 90 day performance review yesterday. For some reason I was really nervous - even though my boss had taken me out for lunch at the market in December to tell me what a good job I was doing. I just couldn't stop wondering if somehow I had ceased to do a good job. That maybe I had dropped the ball on...something.


But it was a glowing report. I mean, I think I actually blushed - in a business meeting. I was on cloud 9 afterwards.

You just might not understand, so let me help you. I used to get fired from jobs. Restaurant jobs. Although to be honest, who hasn't been fired from a restaurant? Oh yeah, my friend Mo. She actually left a note one time on the hostess station at the restaurant we were serving at together. It read:

Dear boss,

I quit.

Mo

She made it out, but not unscathed. I remember the aforementioned boss making her cry once because he hated her hair that day. Yeah. I don't feel bad that I was sacked from that place.

The point is. I am a MUCH different kind of person now. It was easy to tell the change was happening when I stopped celebrating one year work anniversaries.

I even added another resolution: squeeze my butt more when I walk.

How adult is that? BOO+YEAH!!

Big What?

I felt like posting something today but I went back and forth and back and forth once again on what to write about. So then I decided to let the indecision get the best of me.

So I decided to prepare some things for an activity tomorrow and do some online window shopping. That led to some blog reading and then some Craigslist perusing which is where I found this gem amongst the HD TV's:

5 Sasquatch Documentary Bigfoot Private Research Collection - $50 (WA)

Curious? You should be. Read more here.

I've always wondered about Sasquatch and now I know I'm not the only one - by far. There is a whole group in Washington devoted to finding him or it or even a she?

This of course led me to a gem of a movie from my childhood about this very same subject. And Mr. Henderson handled the whole situation just how I would have, have a look.

Which they made fun of brilliantly on 30 Rock.

Which led me on to remember the funny commercials a couple of years ago - here is one (okay all) of my favorites.

You just can't go wrong with this subject.

Happy ME day!

Well it seems that no one will be writing a post praising all my many virtues today on my Birthday so it looks like I will have to do it myself. Actually, in the interest of full disclosure Ricky did post this, which was pretty thoughtful. Notice the word fully. It's pretty poignant seeing as how more than a few times I've threatened to put his favorite Steve Jobs apparatus to rest...permanently.

Back to me and why I'm lucky to have myself as...myself. I'm fiercely loyal to myself and you if you are in the inner circle - and I put on mascara everyday. I love my Birthday and yours too (if I can remember it). I will always be excited when anyone is opening a present. I will tell you that whatever you are doing/saying/wearing or thinking about naming your kid is great even if that is not what I really think because I like to make you feel good about your choices even if they are not for me.

I'm a great employee now. Emphasis on the now. Even if you ask me to make more coffee and I really think that's beneath me I will do it with a smile because I'm grateful to have a job now. I am OK if someone buys the same thing I'm wearing after seeing it because really that is a compliment and we both would still know that I got it first. Also, I seemed to have inherited a small part of my mothers supernatural gift for finding a-m-a-z-i-n-g things for dirt cheap.

I'm a great wife. You should be so lucky.

But most importantly if you are sad I will buy you candy. If you break up with someone I will cook you dinner. If you stay the night I will cook you multiple meals and show you the meaning of food is love (good food, not crap).

And I will tell you I love you, even if we aren't quite "there" yet. This is new for me.

So basically, I am SO blessed that you all have me.

Hip Hip Hooray!

Ricky is snoring in the other room...right now. Which he doesn't do very often which is good because then he would be single. I hope the sound of Travis wafting from my, I mean our, bedroom doesn't wake him. The band Travis, not another man named Travis. As if.

I finally got around to making my New Year's resolution yesterday: Drink more water. And today I realized that maybe my resolution this year should be two fold; drink more water AND do more Kegel exercises. Because my bladder cannot keep up with the sudden surge in business.

I shared my good news with my co-worker who said "wait! That's MY New Year's resolution! You stole mine". So I did, but it was unconsciously which absolves me from any bad karma. I guess that it was stuck in my subconscious floating around somewhere and it came back for a visit. I'm starting to think that Karma is indeed coming back to me because I have had to use spell check an inordinate amount of times in this post so far. This can't possibly be all me. And no, I spelled inordinate all by myself, thank you.

Today I was going strong with my goal of drinking more water (specifically one 16oz bottle before lunch and one before leaving work - followed by infinity trips to the loo) and I decided to jazz up my afternoon bottle with a delicious Crystal light pink lemonade on the go packet. I don't like that particular flavor full force so I had some left over and a thought occurred (since when did that word have 2 r's?) to me. This looks almost like a pixie stick. So I poured a little into my palm and tasted it. Mmmm. Tart yet very good. So I went full throttle and poured straight from the source and let me tell you... it is NOT like a pixie stick. Especially when there is lemon in the title. Yuuuuck. I think it dried up part of my eyeballs.

The things you do when you are bored of listening to the people on the other side of the glass learning about bank financial statements. I tell ya.

Ain't nothin like the real thing baby

I blame Motown for a lot of things but especially for making the best music ever and then never being able to repeat it.

But mostly I'm blaming Motown for making my day yesterday a little less than productive.

I started an Al Green station (one of my favorites) on Pandora the other day at work and I haven't been able to stop. So naturally when I got out of the shower yesterday and was looking for some tunes I turned that on.

Then things went down hill.

I took me f-o-r-e-v-e-r to get dressed because I had to burst into spontaneous dancing bouts both standing and sitting in the chair. I couldn't help it.

And the whole goal of yesterday was trekking to the grocery store...finally. But even that was delayed because I had to download 4 CD's of Motown's greatest hits so it could keep me company in the car.

And then I didn't want to get out of the car.

It also helped me cooked dinner - for hours.

Send me your address and I'll help you be less productive too.

I promise.

Whada ya say doll?

The Crazies were out today! So much so that I actually turned around my wedding ring on the train ride home.

It started with a rather interesting woman sitting by who told me she needed her inhaler. I said nothing.

Then she yelled, "HEY! You almost hit me!" to the woman who walked past her who did not almost hit her.

Then she mumbled and stared and mumbled some more.

Finally she got up and moved when another homeless looking man sat across from her. And from where she moved I could hear a chorus of expletives followed by something about someone always blowing a saxophone in her face and how she does NOT like it.

I thought I was home free.

Then a man came on and sat across me and proceeded to harass me.

"Whhhaada ya say doll?" He started with.

Then when I looked the other way he said it again. When I still didn't answer he apologized for being so drunk and slid a seat over. And boy was he ever drunk. I think the people one car over could smell him.

2 seconds later he started again. "Whooo gives you the right to sit there with thooose boxes and look so good" he slurred. "What are you I-taliano?". And then another apology.

Then the classic, "You don't who I am. My family has money". Sure. I'm sure that your family has money sir, now I will go home with you. Gross.

You may be wondering why I didn't just move seats. Well, the answer is two-fold. 1-there weren't that many empty seats and 2-I had these two huge boxes to take home and this was the place they fit best.

He kept going and going and at one point he told me I was "as dumb as they come". All the while I am looking in the opposite direction trying to ignore him whilst sending negative thoughts towards him in my brain.

Finally a stop before mine I couldn't take it anymore and I got up with my huge boxes and stood by the door. He followed and started talking to the homeless man and they were both agreeing how the cops could f*** themselves. I seriously worried he would get off at my stop but luckily he didn't.

At first it was amusing, then funny and then eventually a wee bit scary.

And then I relived it as I schlepped the 6 blocks home juggling the big boxes worrying someone was going to jump me for my goods.

Oooh...living the sweet city life. What did you do today?

Evian

I've been drinking old water lately.

I always get thirsty right at the same time every morning after the same yogurt and grape nuts I always eat.

So I get a big glass and fill it full of mostly cold water and drink it as I keep getting ready. It inevitably ends up on the desk in the bedroom and I rarely finish it all.

Then the next day I'm suddenly thirsty and there it is. Old water full of the bubbles that water gets when it sits out.

As a self-processed non-water snob I drink it anyways because it's still water, right? It can't have gone bad necessarily, even though it tastes a little old.

But today I woke up from my nap and I was SO thirsty (thanks to a side affect of my birth control that I had no idea about until recently) and I needed a drink, like, now. I looked over and there it was. My camelback water bottle full of water that had been sitting there for weeks. So I gulped it down.

It wasn't that bad. But I kept thinking about someone I know who won't drink old water. Is it you? And then I thought about one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite movies names Superstar: "You should be embarrassed because your parents named you after bottled water!".

As a side note - My husband is video chatting with his brother from the bathroom. No good can possibly come of this.

Location, location, location

Sometimes I wonder how much of a snob I am.

I mostly feel like a snob when it comes to looking for new housing. Also when it comes to fake designer bags from China. I'm just not interested. I'm past that point in my life - and I have TJ Maxx which serves my real leather bags interest just fine.

My point is this: Today I sat in the car while Ricky went and meet someone we had an apt showing with. I refused to get out of the car and even acknowledge that we were there. I sat in the car and waited until Ricky was done and came back out.

You don't understand. It was this long street full of shanty duplexes with all sorts of crap in the yards. Crap everywhere. And it seemed like all the windows were covered in sheets. I have a thing about that. Get a curtain. Or at least a sheet without prints that gives it away.

I just didn't want to be there.

And now we are back to the same place we were 6 months ago. Do we pay a little more for something we will really like or pay way less for less space just to save some money?

I vote the first one.

I can see clear now, the clouds disappear

OK, I can tell by the lack of comments on that last post that my wish has finally come true and no one is reading this. Although I do feel bad that nobody got to click on the link I included and experience the joy to be found there.

But it doesn't really matter because it just kind of goes with my new decade. 2010 has started off on the er, wonky side of the foot. It hasn't been necessarily that bad, but it hasn't been that good either.

My car is growing mold.

I left my prized hair straightener in Utah.

I busted open my rain boots.

I forgot to put in a certain lady part apparatus that stops you up...twice. Which brought about some consequences of it's own.

My visiting teaching companion refused to take me home and ditched me at church - Well...actually she honked and honked while I stood at the locked door until the lone man doing genealogy came and let me in. Thank heavens for the lone man because Ricky wasn't answering his phone, arg. But it did give me plenty of time to catch up on my August 2000 New Era articles. Hey Saudi Arabia Stake Young Women, where are you all now?

I changed at the last minute before heading out the door to go to work and once I was at work I noticed you could totally see my bra through my shirt.

And then later that day I set a paper towel on fire in the break room trying to retrieve my co-workers cookie from the toaster oven.

I think all of this is some sort of a cosmic consequence for not making a new years resolution for the first time in a long time. Actually, my resolution this year was to get a resolution. Which hasn't worked by the way. I feel sort of like a failure because I didn't fulfill my last resolution to try all different types of lettuce to the fullest. I have yet to buy endive.

C'mon. Total Failure.

So that's about it for now. It feels good to let it all out, even if no one is going to read this.

Mary...what about the spores?

Ok.

So it's no secret that it rains a lot where I live.

Duh.

But it was a secret to me, until now, what all this rain was really going to do - besides ruin my shoes and frizz my hair.

I didn't realize that it was going to grow things. Fuzzy things.

Patches of fuzzy things where there shouldn't be any.

I opened my car door today and saw a patch of green mold growing on my car. ON my car.

On metal. I didn't even know that was possible. But it goes nicely with the mold I recently discovered on the shower curtain.

They say everything comes in three's so I'm getting ready to find another mold patch. I just hope that I don't find it on myself because THAT... I do know can happen.

And it's not like I can be the boy in the Secret Garden and avoid going outside to escape the spores - no, mine grow inside and out.

Tonight

Sometimes you feel on top of things and very in charge.

Then sometimes you find yourself using paper towels in lieu of toilet paper. (that reminds me, I once watched something that said you needed at least 7 sheets of t.p. between you and your hand to keep the germs at bay. I think about that every time. Every time).