My Life in Sticky Notes

Perhaps this is a completely idiotic post, but idiotic posts seem to be the most fun. I have a sticky note app for my phone, and I make very good use of it. I write lots of things down: randoms, reminders, instructions, names, books... you name it, I sticky note it. 

Sometimes I will look something up over and over again, and I will finally decide to put it in my sticky note app for easy reference. Take my caffeine sticky, for example. I found myself repeatedly looking up caffeine levels in tea. I try to avoid caffeine. It's purely because I am a freak and for no other reason.  When I can't have herbal or red tea, with no caffeine, I can look at my trusty sticky note and see that black tea has the most caffeine and should be avoided. Yay! How easy is that?   

Digital sticky notes are also great when you're at the vet. Our vet recommended giving Moose Benadryl to ease his itchy skin when he needs it. It would be nearly impossible for me to remember this dosage without writing it down.  

I kept dreaming of snakes, and the dreams were quite disturbing. I jotted them down so I could look up the meaning. One night, I had a dream that Doug and Moose had been bitten by a snake and were bleeding to death. It was fucking horrible. The next night I dreamed about a snake in my pillow case. You're dying to know what the snake in my dreams symbolized, huh? This site suggests that it is an, "expression of a strong discomfort, worry or... fear as you are being confronted with a challenging situation." That one seems appropriate, so I'm just going to go with it. 

I occasionally hear names that I'd like for our pretend, completely hypothetical daughter. We've had our pretend son's name picked out for a long time, but we're undecided on a girl's name. Among many other names, I think Eleanor is cute. 

Oh, dog shit! These little gems all happened to find their way out of my dad's mouth on a lovely Saturday morning this last May. My parents and I went to a community garage sale event in El Dorado Hills, and garage sales seem to wear out my dad's patience in a perfectly delightful and comedic way. If my dad didn't like what someone was selling? Dog shit! If someone's prices were too high? Rotten bastard! If someone was a complete douche bag? My dad didn't want his junk anyways!  

I am a sucker for flowers. I love me some flowers. So it's no surprise that I write down flowers that I like. One day I will have a garden of pretty flowers. Or at least a few pots here and there filled with beautiful azaleas and black eyed susans. 

That's a small sample of the sticky notes that I have. I like going through them for some weird reason, so thanks for listening. I'm sure I'll share more later.. whether you like it or not :)

Alcatraz

I work for the state, and part of my job is to work the public information line for half a day once a week. I get to answer people's questions, listen to their frustrations, and act as a personal punching bag. And so today I was reminded of my all-time favorite incident working in customer service.



Photo: Source
When I was twenty-ish, I very briefly worked for a computer store as a customer service representative. My job was to greet customers as they came into the store, answer the phone, and, had I stayed long enough, input orders into the store's archaic point-of-sale system. Now, this software was not intuitive at all. Go figure for being a computer store, right? It wasn't like 'use the clearly labeled drop down menu and then double click here to place an order.' It was more like 'if you're lucky and accidentally press F4 you might be able to access the menu to the menu wherein you'll be asked to choose between pressing alt + shift and control + enter, but if you guess incorrectly the computer will freeze, make a sound like it's going to take off in flight, and then literally drop a deuce onto your shoes.'

And if you had only worked there a week and lacked any sort of introduction to the system, any sort of training on this software that was so lovingly named after an old-timey California prison, you were fucked. And so I was; I was thrown to the wolves.

One Saturday afternoon, the store was swamped. All the sales associates were busy with in-store customers when I received a phone call from a kind gentleman. He wanted to place a very large order. I very politely put him on hold and ran around begging and pleading with the sales associates to take five and assist this man. He was a sure thing! With money to spend! But no one wanted to take the time to help this very new employee place an order in which they were guaranteed a commission. I got back on the phone and kindly asked this sweet, sweet man if I could possibly take his name and number and someone would call him back. He assured me that if I did not take his order right then and there, the company I worked for would miss out on his very large, very profitable order.

With sweaty palms, I stood in front of that black screen and tried to maneuver my way around the system. There was a lot of awkward silence on the phone while I fumbled through the various screens. There was a lot of "thank you for your patience" and "did you say 5 3200 series with 2.66GHz Intel Pentium 4 505 processor, 256MB of RAM, and a 120GB hard drive or was that 3 5200 series with 3GHz Intel Pentium 4 530, a sack of potatoes, and a lighter?" I made no significant process with this man's order whatsoever because I did not know what the fuck I was doing. He, of course, took it as a personal insult. And so he asked me, and I will never forget, he asked, "what are you, a retard or something?" I'm not sure how the call ended. I truly have no recollection of how I was able to get this complete douchebag off the phone, but I remember going into the bathroom and crying my eyes out.

And I also remember quitting shortly thereafter.

Blue Christmas Luncheon

I went to a work-related holiday luncheon today. In past years, there's always a special guest speaker. This year they wanted the special guest to be a surprise, so they put this on the program:

Special Guest................................................. ???

Everyone was, like, who in the fudge could it possibly be? The president? Kate Middleton? Joel Osteen? My guess was Santa Claus. We were all thinking they must have brought someone in that's REALLY special. Like, Bill Clinton special.

I like to think I had the best guess because the special guest was...

was...

Elvis!

Everyone went bananas. I kid you not. I was, like, am I really sitting here right now listening to a bad Elvis impersonator sing All Shook Up? While I'm on Clomid? Is this really my life right now? And as I pondered this question, I ate cake:

Even though my life would have been A-OK without ever sitting through that, it made me happy to see a coworker, an older lady, thoroughly enjoying the performance. She was singing along to songs I had never even heard of. And that warmed my heart. The free bottle of wine didn't hurt either.

Meeting in the Ladies Room

I don't know why the crazy things I do still amaze me. I'll catch myself doing something so ridiculous and then I'm like, "oh no, I did not just do that." It's like when I was convinced I had left my sunglasses in the office and all the while they were on my face.

Take today, for example. It's lunchtime and I'm faced with the dilemma: do I pee before lunch or do I wait until after I eat? It's an unfortunate predicament to be in, I know. I decide that my peeing simply cannot wait another thirty minutes. I drop my soup and water bottle off in the break room, on my way to the restroom, so as not to have creepy, crawly bacteria infesting my Tupperware and Klean Kanteen on the restroom counter. It's better that way since I'm too lazy to go to the restroom, walk back to my desk to get my lunch, walk back to the break room to heat up my lunch, and walk all the way back to my desk to eat it. By dropping my lunch off on the way to the restroom I am eliminating one step. It's actually quite efficient, you see.

As I enter the restroom, I head straight to the sinks and wash my hands. I dry my hands. And as I'm drying my hands and about to walk out the door to retrieve my lunch in the break room, I realize that I never went pee. And then I laugh at myself and roll my eyes and develop this buring desire to tell somone about the stupid thing that I had just done. Which would have to wait until after I went pee, of course.

On the Dock of the Bay: Sausalito

I haven't told you about my trip to Sausalito earlier in the month. We were actually in San Francisco for the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in Golden Gate Park. I'm not quite ready to talk about all the shenanigans surrounding the concert. Quite honestly, I'm trying to block it all out, so that story will just have to wait. On our way home, though, we drove through Sausalito and had breakfast.

I've decided if I strike it rich I will be moving to Sausalito. That is, I will be buying a Monet and then moving to Sausalito. I don't even know if I can articulate why I love Sausalito so much, especially after only having driven through it and eating breakfast. I can say this: Sausalito is ridiculously beautiful. Sitting on the bay, the city offers views of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, city of San Francisco, and Golden Gate Bridge. Every day I'd be staring at scenery people come from all across the world to see. And it has such a quaint, small town feel.

And it has this cool breakfast place.

Where we sat at the counter and watched the cook kick-ass at breakfast making. I literally wanted to go behind the counter and hug him. 

Partly because he made me this banana pancake (and eggs, and bacon, and potatoes... oh and wheat toast, but who cares about toast when you have banana pancakes), but mostly because I wanted him to know he was appreciated. I am so, so weird. 

I'm going to have to go back to Sausalito to take some photos and really do it justice. For now, just know that it's got scenery, breakfast eateries, and a library.  That's right, I saw a sign for The Sausalito Public Library. You hear that, Job Creators? Create me a job there, please.   

Parking Wars del Norte

As my coworker/friend and I were walking to the parking garage at the El Cerrito del Norte BART station, a woman pulls up along side us in her car and asks where we're parked. Because I was somewhat on-guard after having just been in Oakland, my immediate thought included us being carjacked in space number 1074 of the parking structure. So before I answered her question I asked why she wanted to know. Although I literally said, "why?" it really sounded like, "I'm a fucking snotty-ass bitch, and you have no right to talk to me, so why the fuck do you want to know?" It truly was not intentional at all, even though I had visions of being raped and murdered in my head. It was the kind of why you'd hear from a teenage girl rolling her eyes and twirling her hair around her finger.

The lady responds, "so I can park." Oh, yeah. Duh, I think. "We're on the fourth floor," I say. And as my friend and I are making our way to our vehicle I think about how I didn't mean to sound so rude to the woman. I thought about how painstakingly obvious it was that she just wanted my parking spot. And then I reminisced about my college days. Parking is cutthroat at Sac State, you know.

As we're approaching my truck we see that that woman has caught up to us. She pops her head out of her driver's side window and hollers, "I thought you said the FOURTH FLOOR?!" And I said, "Bitch, it was easier to say the fourth floor than to say we're kind of on the ramp between the third and fourth floors on the southern end of the parking structure." And then we jumped in the truck, locked the doors, and peeled out.

Minus the part where I said something in response. Because I didn't. I figured I ought not pick a fight with someone who I initially thought was going to dismember me and throw my body parts in her trunk. Also, I guess I deserved her equally snotty remark after sounding like a complete asshole myself. I didn't mean to, though. I didn't mean to!



Photo: Source

A Grown Ass Woman

Today, for fertility testing, I had four large vials of blood drawn, one medium vial, and one small vial. I wanted to take a picture of all of the filled tubes, but the phlebotomist seemed like the no-nonsense type so I didn't press my luck. Just imagine, you could be looking at a photo of my blood right now! With the needle in my arm I told myself, Sara, you better be getting some bacon and eggs after this. And I did. In fact, I think this was the first time I've ever eaten in a bona fide restaurant by myself. I felt very grown up.

I've always been weirded out by the thought of eating alone at a restaurant table. It seems kind of lonely. It was very relaxing, actually. I brought Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother with me (I know, I said no memoirs... whoops!), so it turned out to be quite enjoyable. It's kind of amazing to do something outside of your comfort zone (eating by myself in a restaurant, for example) and come away feeling refreshed. Not that eating alone is akin to jumping out of an airplane, but sometimes it's just the small things that make us feel good.  

Very Best of: Cell Phone Photos

I have some random ass photos in my cell phone.

Here are my top 10 favorites. They're not in any particular order. I just like to number things.

1. I was cleaning the house one day and threw two dog beds together so that I could vacuum the floor. When I went back into the other room, I saw that Moose had made the most out of it.

2. Nick got this Anthropologie wallet for me for our third anniversary. Leather is the official third wedding anniversary gift, and Nick has been following this list since our first anniversary. 

3. The biggest bug bite in the history of bug bites. On me! Yay! 

4. Doug was a sad, sad boy at the vet. Can you tell that he wanted to be on the other side of that door?

 5. I was shopping for jeans for Nick and texted him this photo. 

Me: What color do you want, Nick? 

Nick: Just get both and we'll take one of them back.

6. I was looking at the classifieds section of the newspaper. Remember when the job ad section was, like, 10 pages long? Yeah, not anymore. Job ads are two columns long now and not even a full page. They are smushed right next to personal ads. These two ads from women were both from incarcerated women. They made me sad. One of them wrote that she was "very lonely." Look, she may very well be a murderer, I don't know, but reading or hearing that someone is lonely tugs at my heart strings. I'm weird like that. 

7. Need I say more?

8. I saw this mean spider in our garage. This guy was really big. We found some tarantula sized spider in our living room when we first moved in. I'm not going to tell you what I did to this spider just in case PETA is reading my blog. 

9. I'm an amateur spray tanner. So when I got home after getting a spray tan, I freaked out at the sight of my newly freckled leg. I don't think it's supposed to do this... 

10. Doug is VERY mischievous. He will find something he knows he's not supposed to have in his mouth and make you chase him around the house for it. We've lost many a roll of toilet paper to him.  

Our 3rd Anniversary

Three years ago today we got married in Pismo Beach, California overlooking the Pacific Ocean. While there are a few things I wish I could have changed, like the fact that our DJ was ridiculously late or that the sun was in everyone's eyes, it was so special and perfect to me. The readings, most specifically, really touched my heart, because I'm a sap like that. Our officiant read the following passage at the end, right before she pronounced us husband and wife. It tied everything together better than a big ol' bow ever could. 

As you stand together near the ocean tide, 

may your love always be as constant and unchanging 

as the never ending waves flowing endlessly from the depths of the sea. 

Your love for each other came softly upon your hearts, 

just as the sea foam comes softly upon the sand. 

Just as there will never be a morning without the ocean's flow, 

so there will never be a day without your love for each other. 

As you pledge yourselves to each other today, 

promise to be a loving husband - a loving wife - 

always as unchanging and dependable as the tide. 

As these waters nourish the earth and sustain life, 

may your constant love for each other nourish and sustain you until the end of time.

And This is How I Know I'm Losing It

I walk out the doors at work, ready for a morning walk, with iPod and keys in hand. I like to give my butt and thighs a break from sitting on them all day, and a brisk walk temporarily does the trick.

I realize I've forgotten my sunglasses since all I have in my left hand is my iPod and my right hand has a firm grip on my keys. Funny, I think, I swear I was holding my sunglasses while I was walking down the hallway towards the exit. Did I drop them somewhere? No, no, I say to myself, I would have remembered dropping them.

I start walking and figure I'll just have to suck it up. One walk without sunglasses won't hurt me. I scroll through a play list on my iPod and stop at Give Me Everything by Pitbull, an upbeat walking song for sure. When it ends I find Gucci Gucci by Kreayshawn. I must memorize every last word of it so when I karaoke it, in my daydreams, I don't flub the lyrics: "Bitch you ain't no Barbie, I see you work at Arby's, number two, super-sized, hurry up, I'm starving." Brilliant. I don't care what anyone says; you have to be really, really smart to think of lyrics like that.

Focused on my dreams of writing a rap song, I reach up with my index finger and push up the bridge of my sunglasses. The rims of my sunglasses come into view through the tinted lenses, tinted lenses that are apparently so clean I had no clue I was wearing them all along.

No clue. None. Not until I pushed them up, out of habit, with my finger.

Scenes from the Sacramento River

There are some things that I love about Sacramento. One thing I really like is that is we're super close to places people come from all over the world to see: San Francisco, Napa Valley, and Lake Tahoe. This means we're within an hour and a half away from good thriftin', good wine, and good snowboarding. While we may not have a great nightlife or a rich cultural scene, we have options! One weekend you can be at a Giants game watching Lincecum pitch a no-hitter and the next you can be hiking through the Sierra Nevadas with your goofy lab and beagle in tow. Or, there's always the option to stay in Sac. You're bound to find plenty of fun things to do.

We recently went on a Living Social cruise on the Sacramento River. It was Caribbean themed with live music and catered food. Let me tell you, there were some delicious meatballs on that boat. Not like Snooki and Deena type meatballs, but like little tiny balls of meat. I might be making this up, but I think they had some sort of pineapple glaze on them. I basically had two plates full of meatballs. That's in addition to everything else that I ate. I also ate some tasty Cuban barbecued pulled pork sandwiches. But enough about food...

You see, another thing I love about Sacramento is the Tower Bridge. The Tower Bridge spans the Sacramento river, connecting downtown Sacramento to West Sacramento, and on our cruise we got to get up close and personal with it.      

The Tower Bridge is a beautiful, fancy gold. There was a lot of hoopla when they painted it, but I'll be damned if it wasn't a good choice. And it's just so handsome. So handsome, indeed. I love the structure and design of the bridge, and it's especially gorgeous at night when it lights up.  

What are some of your favorite things about the City you live in?

Smells Like 90's Music

I think I'm reverting back to my 8th grade self, minus the braces and denim overalls with one strap hanging down.

Sacramento has two 90's music stations now: 94.7 and 106.5 The Buzz. 94.7 isn't exactly marketed as 90's music. They play alternative music, with a pretty heavy rotation of 90's alternative, so it might as well be a 90's music station. 94.7 is exactly what KWOD 106.5 used to be back in the day. Anyone from Sacramento will know what I am talking about.

Back in 8th grade I used to listen to Mary J. Blige, TLC, and Boyz II Men. I wasn't really into the whole grunge thing. That's not to say that I wouldn't go long stretches of time without washing my hair or that I didn't own a pair of Converse. Because I would and I did. And I had a gnarly plaid flannel shirt and a Ten cassette tape, but only because I was a slave to trends and had a crush on a boy named Jeremy. That's pretty much the extent of it. I remember when Kurt Cobain died and the "rockers" at my school, the ones who wore crushed velvet and had aqua colored streaks in their hair, went into full mourning on the blacktop during our lunch breaks. Although it was sad, I wasn't a big Nirvana fan.

Fast forward 500 years and here I am loving Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Mazzy Star. This is a very recent phenomenon; I haven't even told my husband yet. There has been no downloading going on, but it's to the point where I'm cranking up the volume when they come on the radio. I heard Fade Into You by Mazzy Star the other day and almost died. Why didn't I like this song back then? What an asshole I was. The song is awesome. Of course I had to wonder what Mazzy Star is up to now and then had a flashback to the roller coaster scene in Fear when Wild Horses is playing. Which isn't even Mazzy Star, it's The Sundays, but whatever.

Photo Credit (Clockwise): Hope Sandoval, Eddie Vedder, Kurt Cobain

This reminds me of when I randomly started loving Mariah Carey last year. It happened suddenly and without warning. One minute she's on our do-not-play list at our wedding and the next I'm rocking out to Fantasy in my car.

PS: Mazzy Star is no longer together, but Hope Sandoval was touring through 2010.

Downtown, Everything's Waiting for You

I've had the opportunity to work downtown on a special project for a month, and I'm totally loving it. It's not the job, per se, that has me excited. I realize I just like being downtown. I can eat outside for goodness sakes! Under trees! At the state capitol! I can even walk to the Sacramento Public Library on my lunch break. The convenience! The freedom! 

I like sitting on the benches outside the capitol. You never know what you'll see. The first day that I ate my lunch there I was joined by a man who talked to himself. It was cool and a bit scary. I was pretty much done eating by the time he arrived, but I was determined to get some reading in before I had to go back to work. I drew my book from my purse and began reading. Distracted and frightened by this man, I kept reading the same lines over and over. I grew more leery by the second until I finally decided I couldn't bring myself to stay any longer. I exaggeratedly looked at the time on my cell phone to imply that my lunch break was over, packed up my belongings and hit the road. I didn't want to hurt his feelings by leaving so quickly after he sat down, but I also didn't want him to kill me. Sometimes I just like to err on the side of caution.

Aside from fleeing from strangers, I also like to watch the tourists. Who knew that people come to Sacramento to sightsee, but it's true; their backpacks and cameras give it away. Also, the bus with "Senior Tours" plastered across the side is a tell-tale sign. I want to ask them if they know that the Golden Gate Bridge is only an hour and a half away. No matter the type of tourist, though, they always do the same thing. They look at the capitol from afar with their chin in the air. They're amazed at how tall the building is and will either drop their jaw, smile or both. They'll take a picture of the capitol and then turn around and ask someone to take a picture of them standing in front of it. If they're with a group they'll ask a kind stranger to take a picture of the group with the building in the background. It doesn't fail.

I also feel a bit proud being downtown. I've been watching the A & E show Obsessed on Netflix for a while. Each episode of Obsessed highlights two people with different forms of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. One episode deals with a guy suffering from agoraphobia. He has major anxiety whenever he leaves his comfort zone. His comfort zone, or safe zone, includes his apartment and the neighborhood he lives in. Watching his story, I realized that his symptoms sounded familiar. I've been known to have anxiety. I've dealt with it on and off, and in many forms, since I was in fifth grade. When I was in my early twenties I remember having anxiety when I was too far from home. Downtown fell into the "too far" category. I remember being downtown with my friend's mom to take photos of a protest at the capitol, and I was completely anxious. I was on unfamiliar grounds, and I just wanted to escape.  

Now, sitting on the benches at the capitol, I realize I am completely at peace downtown. And I'm liking it, so take that 22-year old self. I guess good things really do happen in your 30s. 

The Mother of All Funks

You guys, I'm not even going to lie, I've been in a funk lately. It's not like a 'lay in bed all day with the window shades drawn' kind of funk. It's more like a 'I went back to school for nothing, sit in a cube all day, and can't get pregnant to save my life, but still have to function like a normal human being' type of funk. A woe-is-me type of funk, I suppose.  In fact, I think I'm just now starting to recover from May, and May had its own completely separate issues. It was a pretty bad month for me. I can't even believe I'm saying this, but in many respects I feel like I wasted a whole month. That's completely against my New Year's resolution. Shame on me.

The main culprit, I think, was the cut on Moose's ear. It sounds completely dramatic, but one dime-sized cut on the inside tip of his ear caused a lot of stress and worry for me. Toward the end of April, Moose cut his ear. When it would start to heal and form a scab Moose would shake his head and break the scab open. This happened a gazillion times.  You might be surprised how much blood comes out of a dime-sized cut on a dogs ear. I'm talking murder scene quantities of blood splattered onto the walls in our house. I'm not kidding. It was ridiculous. I'll save the horror story for a Doug and Moose Monday, but seeing my Moose miserable (a normally happy-go-lucky lab) was difficult to say the least. And dealing with that much blood - painted on our walls at times - was a bit trying.

Quarterly Check Up?

I've avoided saying anything about my New Year's resolutions because I've pretty much concluded that I suck at resolutions.  Well, suck is kind of a harsh way to put it. I've made some positive changes, but I haven't accomplished everything. You be the judge.

1. Take better care of myself -

• Nick and I joined a gym and have been going for three weeks now. We're going three times per week so that's nine more days of exercise so far than in 2010.
• We're doing well with watching what we eat. I know I'm not really the cooking type, but I've busted out some healthy recipes lately including quinoa burgers. (I'll have to write more about my love for quinoa later...) While we have our cheat days, we're in a much better healthy eating routine than we've been in in a long time. 

Here's the downside:

• Nail polish rarely makes it on to my nails.
• I haven't had a haircut since December.
• I still don't wear makeup to work (it's sporadic at best).
• I regularly wear my college pants to work. When I say "college pants" what I mean is my H&M pants from oh... about three years ago? They're these cotton pants that are oh-so-comfortable. One pair is black, one pair is blue and they're both completely faded. I know it's time to retire them, but I'm having a hard time letting them go.  Here they are in all their wrinkled glory (PS: I do iron them before I wear them.) 

2. Stop living for the future -

When you're trying to conceive, inevitably, you're living for the future. And you're living for the future in many ways, but one of the most obvious is that your months are separated into phases, and you're constantly looking towards the next phase. You're either in the trying phase, the waiting phase, or the disappointed phase (which can, of course, be replaced by the ohmygod I'm pregnant phase and then you start living for the future in new ways). I know when I find out I'm not pregnant I start looking to the next month. So, in that sense, I am concentrating on, or living for, the future.

What I'm describing here, though, isn't really what my resolution is about. I'm more concerned with allowing myself to live in the moment.  I found myself wasting Sundays being miserable because I knew that I had to go to work the next day.  I found myself facebooking instead of truly listening to whomever I was on the phone with. I found myself thinking of all the things I had to do when I got home from my parent's house instead of savoring the time I was spending with them.

I don't know that the capacity to live in the moment comes naturally to me.  That's not to say that I am not much improved from 2010. I am usually hyper-aware of when I'm not living in the moment. When I catch myself not being in the present when I should be, I tell myself, "Sara, you're being stupid. Stop it." And so I do. That's a big step for me; I think I'm making good progress on this one.     

3. Take more photos -

I'm not making many opportunities to go out and take photos. I envisioned that I would take walks with my trusty little camera while snapping happily away.  That has not been the case.  This whole weekend was even filled with photo opportunities, but I didn't take a single picture. Ugh. 

I did make somewhat of an effort when we went to Giants' Opening Night. Here's a sweet photo of the Bay Bridge with some sort of smudge. All in all, I'm a complete photo failure, but as I have been saying, I'll keep trying...   

Monthly Check Up - January 2011

I thought it would be fun to check up on the progress I've been making with my New Year's resolutions. For the month of January, my commitment to each goal varied so here's a run down on the three of them: 

1. Take better care of myself - 

Eh, I've made pretty mediocre attempts at this one. I knew this would be the hardest resolution for me to commit to so even though I've kind of sucked at it this month I am by no means giving up. I started the month with a bang making sure to exercise, eat right, and practice portion control. While I didn't totally blow it (I think I only went back for seconds during dinner once this past month), I slacked here and there including eating snacks right before bedtime (as opposed to no snacking after dinner), and I didn't keep up with my exercise plans. I also allow myself one cheat day per week, and I stretched that a bit (maybe two cheat days per week) this past month as well.   

I royally blew it at stepping up my work appearance. I wore makeup to work a couple of times (i.e., more than just eyeliner and mascara), but my style can still be described as poor college student chic. In my defense, I did wear heels and nice pants TWICE! I think I even wore a necklace! 

There have been no signs of nail polish or haircuts in January. Not even a bang trim. (That's what she said.) So there's definitely room for improvement all the way around.      

2. Stop living for the future - 

This one is hard to measure, but I think I did well during January. Like, I would give myself a B if I had to assign a grade. Normally, I wouldn't shoot for a B. In fact, I'd probably be pretty bummed out with a B.  With all things considered, though, I think it's a step in the right direction. For example, I'm trying to avoid falling into a deep funk on Sundays knowing that Monday is right around the corner. I'm doing my best to enjoy Sundays. It sounds kind of lame and like an elementary concept, but when you live your life in a cube, trust me, you tend to get a serious case of The Mondays.

3. Take more photos - 

This is my favorite resolution. I think I look forward to meeting the challenge with this one since it lets me be creative. While I didn't do tons of things in January that presented photo opportunities, I managed to take some pictures. Nick and I went snowboarding at Squaw Valley USA, and I snapped a few photos.  Note that my resolution wasn't to take GOOD pictures, but here are a few of my favorites. 

I still want to take more pictures, though. Even if there are no photo ops, I should make my own! 

Being Young and Stupid

Sometimes I look back on my life and think about how stupid I was when I was younger. For a significant amount of time in my late teens and early twenties, I dated someone who had a drinking problem. All the signs were there from the very beginning, but I was too young and immature to take them for what they were worth. After far too many years had passed, I came to the realization that, ohmygod this man has a drinking problem and he's never going to change.


On our first date we went to the drive-ins to see Godzilla. When I picked him up (I picked him up because *red flag #1* he had a DUI and *red flag #2* hadn't completed his DUI program or *red flag #3* paid his fines)... where was I again? When I picked him up he *red flag #4* climbed into my car with a six-pack of beer. Maybe people regularly take alcohol to the drive-ins, I honestly have no clue, but as a 17-year old girl I thought it was cool because, hey, drinking is cool in high school. Except he wasn't in high school; *red flag #5* he was 26. For everyone whose jaw is on the floor, I lied through my teeth to my parents and convinced them he was only 18. Did I mention that when he was supposed to meet my mom for the first time he completely stood us up for dinner? Yeah, so our whole relationship was kind of like that.

As it turned out, drinking affected every facet of his life. He couldn't hold down a steady job. He didn't live in the same place for too long. He couldn't drive, had horrible credit, and ruined many of his friendships with his drunken antics. It wasn't until I was 22 that I woke up one day and said ENOUGH! And then I went back to him and said ENOUGH again! And that time I really meant it.

I'm not trying to make him out to be a bad guy because he was an alcoholic. I understand that alcoholism is a disease and, in my situation, he wasn't ready to admit it. For him, that was okay, but for me, I knew that I didn't want to be codependent for the rest of my life. I knew that he was going nowhere, and I wanted more for my life. My family hated him, my friends hated him, and whenever I heard TLC's song "No Scrubs" I instantly thought about him AND HE WAS MY BOYFRIEND AT THE TIME. The truth of the matter is that it didn't take me five years to put the pieces of the puzzle together. I knew after 6 months that things would be better off if I ended it. I didn't want to kick him when he was down and, being young and immature, I thought he needed me. I told myself I'd give him time to get back on his feet, but that time never came. Oh, that and I knew that if I broke up with him I would risk not having a date to the prom. See? Pretty stupid. 

I don't regret that I was so stupid back then. I learned so many good lessons at a young age. Most of the lessons listed in this post were the result of this relationship. One of the very best things I took away, although it took a couple of years to realize, is that if your family and friends don't like the person you're dating, it's probably for a reason. The reason is not because your family and friends are assholes, it's because they see everything you're trying to lie to yourself about. I always told myself , "they don't know him like I know him." The scary part is if they knew him like I did then they'd hate him even more.

So, yeah, I WAS dumb. But, that stupidity resulted in beautiful things in the end so I wouldn't have it any other way.

New Year's Resolution

I don't think I've ever made a New Year's resolution before, but I've been feeling like this is the perfect year to start. 2011 is so ripe for new beginnings that I thought I'd start with a bang and resolve to make not one, but three big changes this year.

1. Take better care of myself -

This one is so big, I don't even know where to start. Initially, I thought I'd make a New Year's resolution to start exercising like everyone else, but my need is so much more than that. I need to exercise and eat right, but I also need to care more about what I look like in general.

Let's just say that the whole concept of The Office Spread is true (at least for me it is, anyways). It's amazing what sitting in a cube for the last six years - for eight hours a day, five days a week - did to my body. Pair that with finishing my Bachelor's and starting and finishing my Master's during this time and you'll see that my thighs never really had a chance. Whoever created the idea of cube life was a complete asshole. I haven't gained a lot of weight, but the weight I gained went straight to my butt and thighs (ok, and my stomach and arms... and maybe my face). My proportions look completely ridiculous and that's what really bothers me... so, yes, I need to start exercising. I also need to start eating better. This isn't going to be a crazy diet, though. I know myself well enough to know that I can't stick to a real diet. Simply stated, I need to make better choices about what I am eating and not eat so much of it. I'm notorious for eating ginormous portions of food and later going back for seconds and thirds. Heck, when I'm eating breakfast, I'm thinking about what I'm going to have for lunch.

Equal to exercising and eating right, I NEED to start caring more about what I look like. I know that when I put thought into what I look like, I feel better. From here on out, I am going to get my hair cut on a regular basis, paint my nails, get pedicures, take my makeup off before falling asleep on those late nights, and otherwise spoil myself silly. Also, I can no longer use the excuse of dressing like a poor college student when I go to work. I can at least step it up and dress like a college graduate with a shit load of student loans to repay. In a nut shell, I just need to make the effort to look like who I really am on the inside.

Image courtesy of FoundryParkInn

2. Stop living for the future -

While I was in college I always thought my life would REALLY begin once I graduated. Then, when I started my Master's program, I knew my life would REALLY start after that. After that, I knew I had to find a new job before I could begin enjoying my life**. I'm not going to find a job anytime soon, so where does that leave me?

I know happiness comes from within; that's no secret to me. But I came across this quote and it helps to inspire me about living in the moment instead of living for the future. I have it on a magnet on my fridge. I love it and I need to keep this in mind in 2011:

"For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one." - Souza

3. Take more photos -

My kids are going to look back on our old photos and think, "what happened to mom from 2007-2010?" I used to take pictures all the time to document important events in my life and even not-so-important events. Then, for whatever reason, I just stopped. There is a serious gap in my iPhoto library, people. I even struggle to find pictures to put in our Christmas cards. Not cool. So now I am declaring 2011 to be The Year of Photos. Seriously... more photos... I promise.

Image courtesy of StarbuckGuy

Image courtesy of paolo.rally

** I should have prefaced this by saying that I love my life. I am grateful for my family, true friends, and sweet doggies. I am thankful that I have a job. I am thankful that I have a house. But, while I enjoy my life, I am always looking forward to finishing things or starting new chapters. I recognize that I am not usually living in the moment.

Evidence of COLS (Crotchety Old Lady Syndrome)

Yes, that is right. All signs point towards Crotchety Old Lady Syndrome. I have finally succumbed to this mysterious condition. I have two anecdotes to serve as evidence.

I first began to see the Crotchety Syndrome emerge several weeks ago. If memory serves, I was sitting on the couch when Nick came in from the backyard. He states, "the little kids from the neighborhood are stealing rocks from our backyard." "Huh?," I say. "The little girls," he says, " are reaching under our fence and taking our rocks right now." I wondered to myself if this was a big deal and it didn't take long before I decided that yes, in fact, it was a big deal. My reasoning was as follows: (1) The parents in this neighborhood do a piss poor job of watching their children; (2) The kids literally have to trample over the plants in our front yard to get to the fence that they are reaching under; (3) We paid for those rocks; and (4) We paid for those rocks to serve as a barrier between the yard and the fence so that Doug cannot dig his way out of the backyard. Doug likes to dig and would love to escape into the land of Small Children that Play in the Street Unsupervised. Please accept Exhibit A and Exhibit B to support my claim.

Exhibit A (yes, that is mud on his nose)

Exhibit B

I walked into my backyard and over to the side of the fence in question. I started straightening the rocks that were still in the backyard while one of the little girls stared at me through the fence. I nicely (I think) asked, "do you have any rocks?" She said yes and proceeded to hand back all of the stolen rocks through the bottom of the fence. (I must note that Nick was just worried that they might take the rocks and throw them. I had more selfish, superficial reasons which leads me to believe that, in conjunction with my actions, I am a Crotchety Old Lady).

My second example involves a car parked in front of our house. I like to refer to it as an abandoned car. Someone parked it in front of our house 2 weeks ago and it has not budged since. I told myself after the first week that I would give it two full weeks. The two week mark hit today and I had to call the HOA. They're sending someone to put a tow tag on it and if it is not picked up the car will be towed. Is that mean? I can't decide. On one hand what does it really matter to me? On the other hand, the street in front of our house should not serve as a storage facility. If you aren't going to use it, park it in your garage, in front of your own house, or in your driveway. Right? Or am I really just a Crotchety Old Lady?