Adios 2012

Officially halfway through the longest flight of my life – somewhere between Boston and San Fran, my mind is thinking three things. One – I can’t believe 2012 is just about over. Thinking about where we were a year ago today blows my mind. I was at my grandmother’s house with my cousins, completely heartbroken that my dear sweet mister had just left for boot camp. I wasn’t adjusting well to being by myself. The second thing I’m thinking is what in the world 2013 will bring. This year, I moved across the country, thousands of miles from everyone and everything I’ve ever known. The mister and I moved into a new house, and shortly made it a home, although I will always consider the good ol’ 207 our “home.” And the third thing I’m thinking – I’m freaking tired. I can’t wait to get back to our hotel and sleep, and sleep, and sleep some more. Being on vacation is exhausting.

This will be the first New Year’s Eve we’ve ever actually spent together, and what better way to spend it than… fireworks? Sure, sounds fun. How about fireworks over the Golden Gate Bridge? What, like that’s a big deal or something? Hahaha, sorry, just rubbing it in. Although I hate being in California, and so far away from everyone I love, without my mister and his amazingly smart little self, I would never get this opportunity. Who else gets to say they have watched fireworks at the stroke of midnight under the Golden Gate Bridge with the love of their life? Counting my blessings today, for sure.

Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to my family (including my mom, which was the hardest part, by the way). I’ve now “said goodbye” 4 times this year. I’ve also traveled East Coast to West, West Coast to East, 5 times since New Year’s Eve last year. I am so lucky, I know. Saying goodbye to my family really sucks, and there isn’t any way to sugar coat that. It just sucks. I always end up crying, and tearing up hours later thinking about it, but that’s life. Being an adult is no fun most of the time, but the few times it is fun include – right now. Living in California (although I hate California), driving up the Pacific Coast Highway 1 (to our house), watching fireworks in San Fran at midnight on New Year’s Eve (almost as good as being in Times Square for the ball drop – another life goal of mine), and taking a five hour nap in a comfy hotel bed (that’s what I’m hoping for, at least).

So although I already miss you all in Maine – mommy, sister #2, and 3, littlest sister, my nana, my new baby cousin and the rest of my fam, my second family, my best friend, and you know… whoever else I missed, it won’t be long ‘til we’re in our next stage of this growing up thing. I’m just praying the next stage happens on the East Coast (if I say that enough, I feel like the universe will just give it to me… do things like that happen?... East Coast East Coast East Coast East Coast…).

Happy New Year’s to you all. I could be all responsible and such, and say “Don’t drink and drive, be safe, don’t alcohol-poison yourself, don’t get date-rape drugged” or anything of the sort, but instead I’ll just say, see ya next year ;)

PS – We made it to the hotel. We are taking the BART into town tonight… hoping we don’t miss our exit or we’ll end up in Oakland after dark. How scary would that be? Then again, it’d make for a great blog… you know, if I made it out alive. I am in my pajamas, not napping (sad face) because I’m waiting for $25 worth of Domino’s pizza (happy/fat girl face). I’ll let you know how it all turns out.

PS #2 – My New Year’s Resolution is to keep up with my blog more than I have been lately. And also to lose weight. I think that’s everyone’s NYR at some point (or every year, if you’re me).

PS #3 – I'm glad the world didn't end this year. I don't know where that random thought came from. Don't mind me... I'm a little overtired...

I sincerely SUCK at taking pictures of fireworks, so I'll just leave you with this and promise you that I'll never capture something so awesome on camera.

Mourning on the Inside

I feel as if I should address the heartbreaking events of poor Newtown, CT on Friday. Except… I have nothing to say. No words in the entire English language, or any language, can make sense of what happened, can make excuses for the events that unfolded, and can make a grieving family forgive and forget. There’s nothing.

Mourning on the inside – that’s what I’m doing. I cannot even fathom. But “BREAKING NEWS” updates every five minutes, about his mother and his outfit of choice and the heroes and the interviews – that’s not doing it for me. All that does is bring more attention, more crushing reminder, that this is the world we live in. I’m proud of the incredible amount of support people are already providing – and knowing that there are so many great people left in the world – but I’m still crushed, afraid, frightened for everyone – that there are other people who are not that great. I just can’t think about it anymore.

Late Friday night, I watched the Dateline update where they were interviewing children, whose voices were so shaky that you could barely understand their words. I changed it to a stupid Howie Mandell game show within ten minutes, because I’d rather drown out the sounds of people being greedy on national television than be sucked into the craziness of real life. It’s sad, and I felt guilty for changing the channel, but I just couldn’t do it.

I skyped with my four year old sister a few times this past week. And when I see the innocent faces, the ages, the victims, all through the media – she’s all I can think of. She’s so innocent and sweet and has so much more life to live. As did they. And it breaks my heart, because when I hear “20 children,” I see her face. And I just can’t imagine.

I did steal this from Google Images. Please don't prosecute me.

Happy Birthday to You

Today is a special day. Today is the anniversary of the first date I ever went on with my mister… a triple date to a ghetto bowling alley with some great friends where I already knew I was in love. When they dropped us girls off, it was snowing for the first time that year – something so romantic about the first snow of the season. A kiss I’ll never forget marked the day I knew I’d met my soul mate.

That was a huge tangent for the fact that TODAY is the birthday of one of my favorite people in the entire world. And her name is mom.

At my wedding, I did a speech about how my mom was my “superwoman,” and there has never been a truer statement. She is the bomb. Do people still say that? Anyway, I think this is the first year I’ve been away from my mom on a birthday (well, except for a few years back when I was out bowling with the mister on our first date – see above – but I bet she forgives me for that one). I wish I could be home to buy her a nice strong drink or two (or three, or four) and dance our butts off, because I know that’s what we’d be doing.

Lately, being in California has been a little more soul-crushing than normal. A phone call from my princess of a 4 year-old sister begging me to come see her broke my heart a few days ago, and I’ve since been missing my family more than normal. I’m already counting down the days until I get to squeeze all of their cute little faces.

But enough about me. On a serious note, my mom is the best. A few days ago, we Skyped at 1am (my time… so 4am East Coast time in case you suck at math). We may or may not have been under the influence of a few alcoholic beverages and also eating a ton of pizza… like mother, like daughter. I'm pretty sure we "cheers"ed each other with pizza slices. I couldn’t stop looking at myself on the camera, so she got a close up of my eyeball a few times. And all she could say to her friend was, “Look how cute she is!”

Earlier this week, she found out that she got a dream job, and I am just too excited for her. There is no one more deserving. She is the hardest working person I have ever met (and the best nurse, for sure). She’s not afraid to whip you into shape, and I’m so thankful I had that growing up. When I went through some rough years in high school, where the people I thought I loved most were bailing on me left and right, my mom was there. I was a complete b@#$% to her and she loved me anyway. That’s rough, because sometimes people are b@#$%!s to me and I hate them for it. She’s been through hell and back in her life, and she still rocks it every single day. That’s impressive… when I stub my toe, I’m pissed for a week.

So happy birthday to the most kick-ass woman I’ve ever met – my superwoman. What are you, like 29 today?

PS – She also makes some awesome kids. Just sayin’…

This is my 21st birthday... she's so damn cool.

Just some more partying and dancing... kinda what we do best.

The birthday card I sent her... so much better than something cheesy and lovey-dovey, don't you agree? :)

A Quick Turkey Day Update

Things I am thankful for:

The usual – my mister. My mom. My whole family, actually. My friends – all 5 of them, or something sad like that. My pretty awesome life.

The unusual – my comfy yoga pants and fuzzy Christmas sock combination. My new found ability to make gingerbread cookies (even though it looks like the icing monster threw up all over them). Not having to cook dinner tonight. Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner tonight. The fact that I don’t have to cook turkey tomorrow. The fact that I get to eat turkey tomorrow. A long weekend with my mister. Seeing my cousin this weekend. My kitties. Having no school work due this week. The fact that my diet is OVER today. The fact that I lost 7.8 pounds and 5 inches in 30 days. The fact that I don’t have to calorie-count anymore (what a pain in the…). The fact that we leave for Maine in a month from tomorrow! Knowing that all my closest family is together for the holiday (except me – sad face). Having California friends to spend Thanksgiving with. Having a roof over my head. Having food, including cookies and chocolate cream pie, in my fridge. The fact that listening to Christmas music will be socially acceptable once turkey day is over.

…and so on.

P.S. It’s pitiful that half of what I’m thankful for revolves around food. I promise I'm not that shallow.

The first day after a 30 day diet? You betcha.

The Post Office Extravaganza

You’ll probably laugh at this, but let me tell you, I cried. I literally cried.

My Tuesday started out pretty solid – a sunny day and a 2 mile walk, then planning Thanksgiving dinner with a few friends. Later in the afternoon, I had a bunch of errands to run (which really only included going to the post office and then the craft store to spend too much money on crafts I really can’t handle). I headed out, and “Wow it’s a little chilly. I should have grabbed my jacket.” (Foreshadowing?)

I went to the post office in the town north of me, not in my town, because I was going to the craft store on the way home. I’m always a little afraid to go to this post office because a few months ago, someone got shot in the parking lot right across the street. Ghetto. So I go to the post office, and I have to send out two big packages. Of course I can’t balance my purse, my phone, my keys, my wallet, and the two packages, so I wrap my wallet handle around my wrist and head inside. After a ten minute wait, I pay and head to the car. Before I get outside, I reach for my keys. I always (ALWAYS) hang my keys from my right belt loop when I don’t have my purse. No keys. You know that instant feeling where something’s wrong?  Yeah, me too.

I (practically) run to the car and there are my keys. And my phone. And my purse. Sitting on the front seat. !@#$%^&* (That’s me saving your virgin little ears from the all the curse words that came out of my sailor’s mouth). So a slight panic sets in, but I remember, “I have roadside assistance!” Except… the phone number, and my account number, and my PHONE, are all in the car. No worries – there’s a payphone, and I do have my wallet. Except no change. Not even a damn quarter.

So as my eyes start welling up with tears (I’m a big baby), I start panicking. What the hell am I going to do? I go inside and it takes everything in my power to hold back my tears as I ask the post office lady to use the phone. She hands me her own cell phone, and it’s one of those old-school flip phones. I almost can’t remember how to use one. I call the mister. Seven times. No answer. I finally leave him a message and I’m half crying, half sniffling on my voicemail. I walk outside like a lost puppy, and in my most uncomfortable shoes and no jacket, I walk. I ended up walking to Goodwill… don’t ask why. I ask to use their phone, and FINALLY, my mister answers his cell phone. 

I lucked out, BIG TIME, because it just happened to be the day he was out of work way early (which never happens). He assures me that he will come rescue me soon. Thank god for the fact that I have friends, even if it’s just two, in California. They finally showed up, without a spare key, because of course, we aren’t smart enough to have a spare key. Spare keys are for losers. Thankfully, again, the mister has a phone with the internet. And thankfully again (I was just full of thanks), our insurance company rocks. They tracked my location and sent a guy. It took the guy almost an hour, of course, so the mister and I hung out in the post office parking lot (how creepy are we). Once the tow guy finally showed up, it takes all of one minute to open the door. The worst, and yet, the best.

Okay, I realize now when I put it into words – it doesn’t seem nearly as traumatic. But all I could think was, “What if the mister hadn’t answered his phone? What in the world would I have done? I could have been kidnapped. Or shot. Or I could have frozen to death.” I’m lucky I even remembered his cell phone number. The only other person I could think to call was my mom (3,500 miles away on the East Coast) and cry to her. I’m secretly a big fat baby at heart.

And also, I didn’t get to go to the craft store. So that sucked.

I do feel like I complain a lot. But that's what blogs are for, right?

Rice Cakes at the BK Lounge

Wondering where I’ve been for the last two weeks? No worries, I’ll fill ya in.

Since my last post (I think I was making shadow puppets?), I’ve been super busy. I’m actually not sure what I’ve been doing, but I feel like I’ve been super busy. Midterms and dieting and (trying to) exercise more and cooking and buying cats and following the election and visiting with family. A few Mondays ago, my cousin drove three hours (one way) to visit with me for about 24 hours. We ended up exploring a richy-rich town south of me and found a beautiful beach overlooking the greens of Pebble Beach golf course. A ton of surfers in the water, cousin says, “I want to see a shark attack.” And… I kid you not, within ten seconds, I see a circle of fins within a hundred from the surfers. “NO @#!$%^& WAY!”… Good thing there were no children around. I have the worst potty mouth ever. Relax, all. I didn’t witness a bloody surfer massacre. They were dolphins, and I am still way too excited about seeing said dolphins. I think I bring it up in conversation once a day.

I also got a kitten. Again. You may be asking yourself, “Didn’t she just get a kitten a few months ago?” The answer is yes. I am becoming a crazy cat lady. Around Halloween, the SPCA was having an “Happy Meow-loween” event and cats/kittens were on sale. I love sales, and cats/kittens, and the adorableness of the word “Meow-loween.” Anyway, my new kitten’s name is finally decided, and it’s Toby (Tobes for an annoying but cute nickname). My other cat is Fiona (Feeny for short). Feeny & Tobes are finally starting to accept each other. I wouldn’t go as far as “love” each other… but they’re becoming accepting of the fact that they’re roommates. Following all this blah blah blah will be an amazing video about a crazy cat lady. My best friend sent me this via FB about two weeks ago, and I almost died of laughter. I know that’s what people always say, but I’m not kidding. I almost died. Okay, I didn’t almost die. I almost peed though. I almost peed right in my pants.

Also, as I’m sure you all know from annoying commercials and lawn signs and crude FB posts, the election was this week. I won’t discuss politics. JK… I’ll say a few things. This week, specifically on Tuesday night, I was damn proud to be an American. And a Mainer (always a Mainer at heart, even if I live in California. Don’t ask questions). I was a strong Obama supporter because I love my body and I respect women and their rights, and it was evident to me that some people thought differently. And on another note, my home state voted yes on 1 – which was the topic of gay marriage. I can’t imagine NOT being allowed to marry my mister. Although he is of the opposite sex , IF he were a woman… I would probably love him the same. Probably.

And on another note, I’ve been on this “diet” of sorts for the past three weeks. Someone told me that I needed to get the “diet” idea out of my head and just learn that it’s a way of life, but I don’t really know how to explain that to people when I explain why I can’t eat a hundred pounds of stuff-crust Pizza Hut pizza like I’m dying for. So the diet/lifestyle/whatever you want to call it is a shake meal replacement program (called Visalus, in case you were wondering), and it really is great. It takes a TON of self-control for me to behave (food-wise), but my mister is super-supportive, so I’ve been doing alright. Last night at Burger King… I even ate a rice cake while my sister ate BK dinner. And on to my next point…

My youngest sister, a junior in high school, is currently in California visiting two different colleges with a group of people from her school/church. They flew into LAX, which is about 6 hours south of me, but then drove up to San Jose, which is an hour north of me. What are the chances? I drove up there yesterday afternoon to grab her and drive her all the way back to Monterey to show her my house, my mall, my Coldstone and my pizza place, my ocean, and my sea lions. We spent two hours in Monterey before we had to drive back. 302 miles of driving… lucky I drive a 4 cylinder. When we got back to San Jose, she needed dinner, so we headed to the BK lounge. And what are the chances… I’m sitting and eating my stupid dry rice cake and she comes over to me… and says, “Chicken sandwiches are buy one, get one free today!” and hands me a damn sandwich. And boy was she persistent on forcing me to eat it. And guess what? I DIDN’T! (Well, I had a nibble). But overall, I DIDN’T EAT THE SANDWICH. And that’s a big deal to me. #selfcontrolforthewin #yesijusthashtaggedinmyblog #donthateme

And speaking of annoying hash tags, I am newly addicted to Instagram. So stalk me please. @kbmasters24

Rice cake at the BK. No joke.

Feeny being lazy and Tobes photo-bombing.

My sis! <3

This is the link to the cat video. Please watch it. It'll change your life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mTTwcCVajAc&feature=youtu.be

Slackin'

Dear world,

I'm super-slacking on my blog lately. I'd love to say that my life's been super crazy busy and I've had no blog time. However, that may not be true...

This is a short blog entry about what I promise to do sometime in the next few weeks. I promise to write a blog about my new kitty friend and include a hilarious video that my best friend sent me. I'm slowly turning into a crazy cat lady.

I will also write a blog, someday, about my upcoming (like, tomorrow) visit with sister numero two. She's traveling all the way from Maine to California to visit a few colleges, and ends up an hour north of me. YAY for sister time.

So for now, that's all I got. My battery is dying and this is a race against the clock to even post this. Wish me luck. Also, I can't stand the internet for one more minute. Too many people reminding me to vote, and bitching about the election. I think I'll just go shopping instead. Don't worry, I voted three weeks ago. Not so slacker-ish, after all.

Peace, friends. 

Yep, I just said that.

HAH - a little election humor for your Tuesday afternoon.

Weird and Crazy and Crazy and Weird

I don’t understand why I have any friends. Or why people talk to me. Because I’m so weird. So so so weird. And within the last 24 hours, I’ve thought “Wow, I’m so weird,” or “Wow, I’m going crazy” way too many times.

Last night, the mister and I were so incredibly tired, and as we collapsed into bed, something about the position of the lamp and the big empty canvas of a wall motivated us to play shadow puppets. Like children. I love him because we are both absolutely little tiny children at heart. We did this for way too long. There’s a video attached of him being… some animal. He also did a bunny, which turned into a “ghetto bunny.” Please don’t ask. That was the art of his brain, not mine. He then proceeded to sing a line from “In the Ghetto” by the king of Rock n’ Roll himself, good ol’ Elvis Presley. See – the mister is just as weird as I am. Thank the lord. And the only shadow puppet I could do was a dinosaur-ish animal that just wanted to eat all of the mister’s animals. So so so weird. Also, I couldn’t stop looking at how huge my legs/feet looked in the shadow on the wall. “Look at those puppies – they’re like a size 13.”

Moving on to why I’m going crazy. There has been an alarm of some sort – probably a smoke detector – going off in a vacant house across the street for three days now. THREE DAYS. Like, 72 hours of “beep beep beep.” I can only hear it when the windows are opened, or when I’m outside, or when it’s permanently implanted into my brain all day every day. True story. Last night trying to fall asleep, I could hear it. Over and over. And then I fell asleep and had two very crazy dreams: one that my high school reunion was on a cruise ship that was floating through shark-infested waters and I was the only one freaked out about going swimming, and the other that my sister had to be rushed to the emergency room because the glass on the stove top shattered while she was making macaroni and cheese, and pieces were lodged into her chest. That’s screwed up, I know. I told you, I’m going crazy. She was in good spirits and surprisingly in very little pain, in case you were wondering. And this was all just a crazy dream my tiny little pea-sized brain created, in case you’re late to the party.

Then I thought I just had a rough night, and that I would be less crazy in the morning. FALSE. I was headed to the bank, and a car pulled up next to me. A sweet old lady smiled at me and her ugly-but-cute little dog was hanging out the window. I’m pretty sure it was smiling at me too. The dog and the old woman looked very strangely alike, but that might’ve just been my crazy brain. The first thing I thought to myself was, “Awe, I’m making friends. At a stoplight. Because stuff like that happens.” FALSE. As soon as that damn light turned green, the lady cut me off like we were rounding the 3^rd left turn. I was waiting for her to flip me the bird… it was THAT weird of a situation.

So in the meantime, I’m just over here being weird and going crazy and loving my equally weird and crazy mister. That’s all for now.

This is a picture of the "Notes" app on my phone. This is how I brainstorm for my blog. Weird and crazy... I wasn't kidding.

This is the mister's "hermit crab" - he's so talented.

Yeah... this happened.

Crazy Brunette

I wanted this blog to be about the story of my time in Maine. But all I can think about is the crazy lady I sat next to on the plane ride home. Seriously.Crazy.

So let me get the Maine part out of the way. It was a blast, and I was on the go from the day I got there to the day I got home. Nonstop. The weather was decent. I got to visit just about everyone I wanted to see. I spent a ton of time with my mom, which was well overdue, and also with my 4 year-old sister, who is the cutest girl with the biggest attitude. We ate so much food, and I surprisingly only gained 1 pound, which is about 15 times less than I expected to gain. I also met all kinds of new friends thanks to momma. I spent some quality time with the best friend, almost cried when we said goodbye, but was instead distracted by the “tickle fight” she attacked me with (who does that?)… love love love that girl.

So now the story of the crazy plane lady… don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Before I start, let me say – the 3 hour time change is something I never adjusted to, so when I woke up at 5:00 am on the day of my travels, it still felt like 2:00 am. A long day ahead of me, indeed. I took a bus to Boston, so I was already tired by the time I boarded the Boston to San Fran plane. Waiting at the gate, an old woman with a weird looking long-haired dog didn’t seem to notice that her dog’s bark was echoing through the entire airport. I prayed and prayed that she wasn’t sitting anywhere near me, and of course, when I boarded, she was DIRECTLY in front of me, yappin’ dog and all. The plane was big, stuffy, and packed full with crying babies – just my luck.

The woman next to me reminded me of my mom, except that she was a brunette with long hair and my mom’s a blonde with short hair, but whatever. She started chatting my ear off before we began to move. She seemed nice enough, except that every time I put my headphones in, she’d start a new conversation. By the time we had taken off, she told me the sad story of her 22 year-old daughter. She had just died in the beginning of September. Sad, right? From a heroin overdose. Too much information, right? Brunette went on to tell me that her daughter was working as a stripper in Oregon and was also a recovering drug addict. Brunette found her in her bedroom on the morning she died, which is very super sad to hear, but how uncomfortable was that conversation for me… Brunette cried a little and asked me if I wanted to see the tattoo she’d just gotten of her daughter. Before I could answer, she was unbuttoning her shirt. Yeah, seriously. Off came the shirt, and she had nothing but a very small tank top on as she made me hold up her hair so I could see the new shoulder tattoo of her daughter’s face. I wanted to say something like, “She was beautiful,” but I was so weirded out by holding Brunette’s hair that I was speechless. All I wanted to do was sleep, and all she wanted to do was talk about “dead daughter,” as she kept awkwardly referring to her daughter. Her other daughter, who was traveling with her but sitting in the front of the plane, had just donated eggs in Boston, and for another hour or two, I got to hear all of THOSE fun details. Some people…

So after the longest plane ride of my life (6 hours felt like 60), Brunette said, “Good luck with the rest of your travels,” and I couldn’t think of anything to say that didn’t refer to her daughter, so I smiled like a creep and got the hell out of there.

I took a plane that was smaller than my kitchen from San Fran to Monterey, and guess who sat DIRECTLY behind me? Yappin’ dog lady with her ugly little yappin’ dog. After an incredibly scary plane ride home, I finally made it. My husband was waiting for me at baggage claim, and his cutesy little smile made my weird and never-ending day so much better. We had some awesome Chinese food, and I was asleep by 8:30 pm. My life.

Seriously...

Travels

I actually hate traveling – it’s energy-draining and there are so many things that could go wrong. But I’ve had decent luck in the past, so I figured all would be well today… and this is the story of what happens when your brain gets a little too cocky like that.

Although I hate traveling, I love getting places. Like for example, Maine. Currently I’m on a stuffy airplane somewhere over a handful of mountains, and I’m finally on my way to Boston. I flew out of Monterey this morning, waking up before the sun was out and getting all dolled up to see my mom, my sister, and my best friend tonight. And by “all dolled up,” I mean… showered. I actually did dry my hair and put some make-up on, which I should know by now is pointless, because after that San Fran – Boston flight, I always look just about dead, like I haven’t slept in 48 hours and haven’t showered in a week. I don’t know what about flying makes me so gross looking after a short… 9 hours.

So I got to the Monterey airport, which (no joke) has 5 gates. To put it into perspective, I boarded at gate 80 in San Fran, so yeah… Monterey’s kinda tiny. There was a SINGLE bathroom, like, with a locking door and everything. That was strange to me. So I’m scheduled to leave at 9:23 (board around 8:45) and I, of course, was at the airport ready to go by 8:00. So I did my history homework – nobody should be doing history-related anything at that hour. 9:00 rolls around and there’s not a single airport employee in sight. Instead, there’s a bunch of (no, not a bunch, like 10) travelers beginning to panic. Our plane is right outside the window. Then I overhear that wretched word, the one I’d been trying to avoid all morning: “delayed.” Apparently President Obama was at the San Fran airport, and the intensely heightened security is like, a big deal, or something. Damn you, President. Good thing I already voted. Joking… I really hate Mitt Romney. Please don’t stop reading my blog because I stupidly shared my political views with you.

So anyway… delayed until 11:00, which ever so conveniently, is the time my connection was scheduled to leave from San Fran. Damn.

After an impossibly long conversation with a handful of employees who really had no idea what was going on, I ended up booking another San Fran – Boston flight, which is nice, but still annoying that I’m arriving three hours later. I’m tired already.

The upside to this day is that nobody is in the middle seat on this impossibly long flight. It’s the little things in life. The downside, besides that I have already missed a flight and I’m not even halfway done my incredibly long day, is that I paid $12 for a Caesar salad that was consumed in five bites and a Broccoli and Cheddar soup that was damn nasty, not to mention cold by the time I got to eat. Also, I have a headache from hell and there are not one, but two children in the seats in front of me, doing annoying children things. And, the lady in the nearby seat has the need to continue talking to me moments after I put my ear buds in, and we are discussing Libya – how she thinks it was a set up and there are all too many questions left unanswered. Yeah, all my questions are left unanswered, because I know nothing about Libya (the most un-cultured person award goes to… ME). Yay for traveling.

UPDATE: I made it. Obviously. Late night appetizers, margaritas, and laughs at Applebee's with my girls were just what the doctor ordered. We got home around 1:30 am, and guess what? My mom turned the heat on for me. Favorite child much? In case you don’t know us that well – this is like, a BIG deal. She generally doesn’t turn the heat on until after Christmas. That’s kind of a lie, but not turning the heat on until after Thanksgiving – that’s not really stretching the truth.

Wedding, Holiday, Birthday, Vacation

An eventful and well-needed weekend for the mister and I ends with a relaxing day thanks to Chris Columbus for, you know, whatever it is he did.

We spent Saturday driving, running around, eating In ‘N Out Burger (my first time EVER), stressing about being late (Me? Late? Never…), more driving, and finally ending up at the most gorgeous wedding I’ve ever been to. We headed to the heart of Wine Country in Paso Robles – fun fact: the same town where James Dean died and where Marilyn Monroe married Joe DiMaggio. A beautiful wedding with the mister’s family – family I’d never met before, so that was exciting and slightly nerve-wracking all in the same. They were wonderful (I didn’t expect anything less) and we had an absolute blast. I’m damn lucky that I married into such a close-knit family. Seriously, they’re all pretty great. Then we slept in the most comfortable hotel bed EVER. I just want to live in a world made of down comforters and pillows. Is that too much to ask? We spent the morning at Pismo Beach, walking the pier, eating “world-famous BBQ”, and shopping the outlets. I wish my beach was that pretty, but it’s not. It just smells like trash and is littered dead seagulls and dried up jellyfish and homeless people camps… seriously. We drove the long, LONG way home – up Pacific Coast Highway 1, which is just breathtaking but slightly dangerous – 25 mph roads, narrow, winding curves, and crazy tourists. After a solid 4 hours of not killing each other in the car (impressive), we finally made it home, watched a little football, and went to sleep. I had… not one, but TWO, very screwed up dreams that kept me from sleeping well, but today I have already watched 3 episodes of Friends and it’s not even 11:00, so that cancels out the bad night. Yeah, that’s how it works. Don’t ask questions.

Today also happens to be the fourth birthday of my favorite little girl. My sister, one of the biggest surprises of my life, but a miracle all the same, was born 4 years ago this morning. Although she doesn’t always act like it, she is an angel. She already has the attitude of a teenage girl, always telling my sister while we Skype, “You’re getting on my nerve.” She’s four – where did she even learn that? Nobody get offended at this, BUT… being this far away from home, I miss her most of all. Everyone else is pretty easy to get ahold of with phone calls, texts, and Facebook, but she’s the one I very rarely get to talk to. Plus, she’s growing up so fast. It just blows my mind. She has recently discovered Skype, which is a blessing, but really she’s interested in seeing my cat and asking when I’m going to come pick her up. Which brings me to my next point… VACATION.

Tomorrow I leave for the good ol’ 207, and although I’m sad that my mister can’t accompany me this time, I am also SO SO SO SO SO SO SO excited. Yeah, seriously. That much. I can’t wait to see the little 4 year-old princess, and give her the exciting birthday presents of a few t-shirts, pajamas, and a sparkly pink bracelet. Worst present ever for a 4 year-old, I know. But we will brave the world of Chuck E Cheese at some point so I can make up for the incredibly lame birthday prize. Wish me luck. Also I get to see all the rest of my family and my bestest friend (yep, bestest). So while I will miss the mister, I can’t wait to be there. I hope he survives. It’s only 10 days and I’ve made enough freezer meals to feed the state of California. Kind of an exaggeration, but you get the point. Also, pray for me while I travel, because my connection in San Fran is very short and I WILL kill someone if I’m not in Boston by 8:00 tomorrow night. You’ve been warned.

The view from the wedding. It was a castle. Seriously. With a mote and everything.

Pismo Beach from the pier. Gorgeous day.

A rest stop we stumbled on while searching for a bathroom. This was our view all the way home. Big Sur, CA <3

My beautiful birthday girl. Left was her first birthday. Right is her just a few weeks ago.

Things That Do and Don't Make Me Smile

Things that Make Me Smile…

Pacific Ocean sunsets – bright pink and orange skies almost every night during my walk/run/exercising adventure. The Coyote Ugly soundtrack and dreaming about being like the girls on Coyote Ugly, dancing all up on the bars and stuff. The sunshine. My $9 TJ Maxx sunglasses. Having the car window down just enough to not mess with my hair. Seeing deer in California ALL THE TIME. My kitten, who fell in the toilet yesterday and suddenly wanted to cuddle the afternoon away, wet paws and all – yeah, no thanks. Blogging instead of doing classical music homework. Long weekends with the mister (thanks Columbus, for whatever it was that you did). Having such a predictable schedule (seriously, I love that). Cold showers after a very long run (very long for me is like, 12 minutes, but that’s better than no minutes). The thought of having to pack very soon, because I’m going home very soon. Seeing my just-about-4-year-old sister next week. Seeing all my sisters next week (and my mom, and my friend – yes, singular, I pretty much only have one). Yoga pants, especially when I’m not doing yoga. My iPhone, that auto corrected the previous as “toga pants” when I wrote it in my “Notes” app to remember for later. Proper grammar, except when blogging. The show Parenthood. And Friends. And loving Friends enough to immediately recognize Lisa Kudrow’s voice as the new spokesperson for Yoplait yogurt. A blog that I follow called “I Want a Dumpster Baby,” who happens to be 11 years sober today – she is great and inspiring and happy and entertaining and always has something awesome to say - check her out. Date nights. Shopping and finding things on super-sale ($2 shirts, thank you H&M). My mom. Having to drive to the playground to share phone calls with my East Coast fam. The fact that my “things that make me smile” list will far outweigh my “things that don’t make me smile” list.

Things that don’t make me smile…

People who are not 11 years sober, but really should be. Classical music homework. All my other homework. Doing the dishes. Not being able to catch my breath after a 12 minute run. The thought of traveling – so exhausting. The anxiety I get when I think about missing my connecting flight in San Fran (keep your fingers crossed for me). Having a million great blogging ideas and forgetting the second I sit down to blog. Gas prices. Mitt Romney’s voice (especially during the debate). And Mitt Romney (if you are a fan, please don’t hate me. I promise I very, very, very rarely share my political views). Using an ATM and not getting my $80 and rude customer service people and having to wait “7-10 business days” to get my damn money (my yesterday… in case you missed that memo). Doing laundry (I actually don’t mind washing/drying/folding – I just really hate putting shit away). Being on a diet. The fact that I am starting to suck at blogging.

I Want a Dumpster Baby > a link to the blog I mentioned. I highly recommend checking her out - filled with positive energy, humor, smiles, and entertainment all around. Today is her 11th "Soberthday." Plus, she has twins inside of her and she calls them Hall and Oates. How precious is that shit.

A good enough reason for a 4 day weekend, I suppose.

Random Thoughts

Random thoughts of the day/week/whatev. Ready and GO.

I woke up knowing that today was Tuesday (that’s a big deal – I usually don’t know what day/month it is). I specifically didn’t wear mascara because I knew Parenthood (favorite show ever in the entire big whole universe) would make me cry like a baby tonight. I also didn’t wear mascara because I only wear make-up/take my sweatpants off/look like a functional human for special occasions. I also watched the Katy Perry movie this week. And cried. Russell Brand sucks. She’s so cute. Why would anyone ever want to make her cry? And also, Katy Perry had viciously-adorable eyebrows throughout the whole movie, and I became a bigger fan with every flash of those puppies. I love people that aren’t absolutely obsessed with making their eyebrows 0.01 inches wide and pencil-drawn-on-looking. I have ugly eyebrows, and I also have a very low pain tolerance, so I’ve given up on maintaining. No judgment zone.

 And on another note, tomorrow marks exactly one month since I’ve dedicated my busy schedule to exercising…

Sorry, had to take a minute to recover from all the laughter. I hate exercising, in case you have never met me. Like seriously, mark it on your calendar. ONE MONTH of exercising. I’m pretty sure I even average a mile a day (or so, because I’m actually the laziest person on Earth). And sometime within the next month, I’m going to start a diet. Just in time to lose a few pounds so I can eat my body weight in Thanksgiving turkey and Christmas ham. The most wonderful time of the year.

Even with no make-up on, I want to kiss her:

Katy Perry on SNL - "Bronx Beat"

^A link to Katy Perry's guest appearance on Saturday Night Live after the Sesame Street controversy, cleavage and all.

My BFF

Being 2384134809 miles away from home is hard. 3,500 miles away from home – also hard. It’s hard to leave behind family, and although I don’t have many friends, it’s hard to leave behind the special ones. This week (for the sake of the blog), I’m thankful for my best friend, and all the weird things we’ve encountered in the past 7 years. I’m actually thankful for her every day, but whatev. You get the point.

I remember the day we became best friends. Sitting on basement stairs late at night in our PJ’s, bear-hugging and doing all that emotional stuff that BFF’s do – it became official. We’re best friends forever. No turning back now.

Since that day, we’ve had our share of adventures. A few years back, we went out of state for a concert. She dared me to be brave, for once, and I somehow ended up begging an employee for upgrade tickets. I cranked up the charm (or something like that) when he asked me why he should give me tickets, and I exploded with “We’ve been here for 8 hours and we drove a long way and we’ve been standing in the sun all day and there are drunk people everywhere!” And that annoying little ramble got us front-row tickets. That’s not true. They weren’t front-row at all, but wouldn’t that have made the story so much better? But they were significantly better than where we were. And after a long night at the concert, we ended up back at the hotel, bored out of our minds eating pizza – big surprise there. We went to the front desk, and told the nice young man that we weren’t going to stay the night. “Your state is boring,” I said. I didn’t realize it was such an insult, but my poor BFF was mortified. She will never let me live that one down. She even told that story to EVERYONE I KNOW during her maid-of-honor speech. Yeah… thanks for that…

So on top of insulting New Hampshire front desk clerks and embarrassing wedding speeches, we really have been through it all. We’ve done it all. I know people say that all the time, but we’re for real. She was my first official visitor when I moved across the country… jumping the gun so quickly that she got to camp with us on air mattresses and all. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Graduation vacation to Florida, endless sleepovers and late night talks, roller-blading in the basement, sharing clothes, shopping, getting to my house two minutes after the mister proposed (stalker?), Dairy Queen dates (spilling chocolate ALL over my jeans right before work?) McDonald’s dates, Subway dates (why does everything revolve around food?), picking me up at the airport with a glittery “Welcome Home” sign from our honeymoon, helping each other with homework (Lit & Media video – block of cheese in the pool), 3AM drives across the state for things that could have absolutely waited until the morning, beach days in the middle of winter, late-night mission to find a kitten… why are we so strange?

I know if you’re anybody but my lovely little BFF, you probably hate this blog right about now. But yesterday after a creepy old man was revving his engine at me, and he stalled his truck, and I busted out laughing enough to make the guy blush, I knew nobody else would understand the humor except for her. We are one in the same person, separated by 3,500 miles, but what’s a little distance?

I Just Wanna Sleep...

The first thing I think about when I wake up is, “I can’t wait until it’s time for bed.” I’m always tired. Literally ALWAYS. It’s sad, actually. But I manage to drag myself through the day, and when it’s time for bed, guess what happens? I. CAN’T. SLEEP.

Something about lying in bed, in complete silence, listening to the mister snore, gets my mind racing. The first thing I managed to think about is meatballs. I’ve been trying to make extra dinner so we can have freezer meals, and yesterday, I made meatballs. I made about 60 meatballs, and we ate about 5. According to the Pinterest recipe (Pinterest-addict), I had to freeze them on the pan for a while before putting them in bags to freeze long-term. Something about the snoring, the sound of the fan, the pitch black, made me remember that I forgot the damn meatballs. I even woke up the mister just to tell him.

After the meatball extravaganza, I ended up back in bed, hoping for sleep. Then I had to pee. 4 times within an hour – seriously. My bladder is the size of a pea (pun intended!)… okay, that was really lame, I apologize. Once I tripped over the fan and made a bunch of noise, I ended up comfortably back in bed, and all I wanted to do was FALL ASLEEP! Suddenly my brain is singing John Mayer and Rockin’ Robin. We heard that stupid robin song on a TV commercial earlier in the night, and I promised my mister – I’d be singing it for days. Something about that ridiculous song is so catchy. So I made myself stop singing, and tried to sleep, and ended up thinking about…

Uniforms in the dryer. They’re going to get wrinkled. I should have put them away before bed. Should I get up? And do laundry? At this hour. I forced myself to stay in bed, but suddenly I found my iPhone in my hand. Yeah, this is going to help me sleep. Now I’m online shopping for stuff I don’t need (what’s new?) and stalking people on Facebook. And I know you’re supposed to “power down” an hour before bed to help you sleep (I heard that in a Mike Birbiglia joke once. He’s funny stuff). So I put my phone away, and pray for some sleep. I start thinking about how strange it is that my mister is suddenly fantasy-football-obsessed, and how I can’t wait to go home for Christmas, and how I have a ton of homework to do this week, and how I hate Mondays even though I don’t have a job. And then I start taking my pulse – 60 seconds at a time, wondering if my heart is going to stop overnight. I have a crazy fear of not waking up, but I also have a freakishly slow heart rate at night. I need to go to the doctor. Maybe tomorrow I’ll find a new doctor.

And right when I’m about to fall asleep, my phone vibrates. Who is texting me at this hour? Of course I can’t ignore it – what if it’s an emergency? It’s not. It never is. And now I’m just back to square one.

Finding Nemo!

Just a short blog for now, because today I’ve accomplished absolutely zilch, zip, nada. My husband will be home shortly and I have to at least pretend that I did something. And I really did do something – I went shopping. There’s nothing like a little retail therapy. But I saved a ton of money, so he shouldn’t be that upset… right? I’m totally turning into “that crazy coupon lady.”

I am absolutely looking forward to this weekend after a week that I swore would never end. I can’t imagine how you all feel, and when I say “you all,” I mean the people that actually participate in society… and work. This weekend, we have very little to do, which is great. I remember being younger, and when I had no plans, I was bored. Now when we have no plans, I know it just means a little bit of relaxation with my mister. Nothing better. Tonight we’re headed to the movies to see Finding Nemo in 3D. That’s not a joke. I’m completely serious. And I’m so excited. I love that I’m secretly a child at heart, and that my mister completely understands. Plus, Finding Nemo is non-arguably the greatest movie ever. EVER.

Just as I was about to get productive, my little child sister Skyped me. How can I turn down an adorable 3 year-old with a teenage attitude? She’s adorable. She spends half our Skyping time checking herself out in the camera, and the other half yelling at my sister to “get away, stop being a baby, stop getting on my nerve.” And also acting out a “dolly” she must’ve seen on TV that “does THIS” (insert 3 year-old mimicking some crazy walking and talking doll).

So that’s it for today. Nothing exciting, I apologize. Just me seeing Finding Nemo (in a theater of children, I’m sure) and making chicken and rice casserole for the mister… even though I’m not hungry because I had Pizza Hut for breakfast and ice cream for lunch. I dub today the “day off” of exercising/eating decent food. I suck.

If I were a fish - I'd be Dory.

9/11

Heads up: a little more serious than normal. Sorry if you only read for my incredibly awesome sense of humor (sarcasm).

Yesterday would have been a prime blog day to write about what everybody wrote and talked about: the tragedy that our country faced on September 11^th, 2001. But you know what? I don’t think we need an anniversary once every 365/366 days to remember the deceased, the brave, the affected, the heroes.

Here goes the kind-of-serious portion of today’s blog. On 9/11/01, I was in 5^th grade. I remember an announcement on the loudspeaker to inform the teacher of an emergency meeting. I remember going home and my mom having the television on. I remember not being all that affected because I was a naïve child who had very little idea what was going on. And every year since then, I remember people remembering those lost on that tragic day. I bet you some serious money that my 16 year-old sister remembers every detail of 9/11/01 – do the math, she was pretty young. She has an incredible memory – it blows my mind. But that’s completely beside the point I was trying to make.

Looking back, I feel guilty that as a 5^th grader, I had little compassion for the unfolding events. But honestly – I had little idea of the severity, the impact. Now I’m (a little smarter), and I just have to say: I’m thankful I get to wake up, get to live a safe and peaceful life, get to fall asleep next to my military man, knowing the crazy number of military spouses who don’t get this simple little life pleasure. Props to you, people. Serious props to you.

And to completely change topics with no form of smooth transition (a bad habit of mine, if you haven’t already noticed), yesterday a few great things happened to me. I got my new Vibrams (TOE SHOES) in the mail, and my all-time favorite TV show started up again, which now apparently has Ray Romano (who reminds me strangely of my dad). Parenthood – if you’ve never watched it – Go. Now. Seriously. And if you’ve never seen toe shoes, I’ll post a picture of my sexy feet so you can laugh it up like my mom does.

Toe shoes!

And ridiculous "mom jeans".

You would laugh so hard if you saw what my butt looked like in these babies.

They're from Old Navy... But let's be real - I bought them at Goodwill.