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.