Sleepytime

My body is still not on this whole vacation thing. Again, as evidenced by my 5:12 a.m. wake up time this morning. I think the latest I've stayed in bed these last 4 days has been 7 a.m. Which technically is sleeping in, considering I normally get up between 5 and 5:30. But still.... I long for the days when I slept so long my mother would come in to check on me just to make sure I was still alive. (Which would inevitably wake me up, because of the whole introducing-another-into-the-sleeping-environment-fucks-things-up-for-the-sleeper thing.)

Stupid internal clock.

I read in a magazine once that in order to find your own circadian rhythms, when you have about a week or so with no commitments, you should try falling asleep when you're tired and then waking up when you feel refreshed. This will allow you to find out 1. How much sleep your body truly needs, and 2. What hours your body functions optimally.

Back when I was still in college, and I had a summer to do whatever the fuck I pleased, I tried this. And was sorely disappointed. Ya see, first, I found that my body needs roughly 12 hours of sleep. However, being a college student, a volunteer, a worker, a grad student, an intern, a counselor, a wife, an ex-wife, a doggie mom, a friend, a daughter, a cousin, a niece does not allow for sleeping half the day away. So I jokingly say that when it comes to sleep, I need 12, I'd like 8, but I get 6.

Boo.

Another cause for disappointment was the hours in which I naturally fell into these 12 hours of sleep. I felt tired around 3 a.m. and felt naturally refreshed at 3 p.m.

Now I don't know about you and your world, but my world (even when I lived in a minorly major city) is not very accommodating to being awake between 3 p.m. and 3 a.m. And I'm not talking about finding a place to eat, or grocery shopping, or getting a drink, or going dancing. I'm talking about running errands and going to the local branch of the public library and making it to the DMV before closing and shit like that. Not to mention that currently, I live in a town that has 2 grocery stores and one sit down restaurant (not to be a snob, but it's a fucking Denny's) that you can access 24/7. And. That's. It.

Additionally, I don't know if you've noticed...but school's usually out by 3 p.m. Hell, the school I work at is out at 2:10 p.m.

Hmmm...maybe I need to find a position as an evening college advisor. Or maybe my career as a stay-at-home blogger will take off. Or I could work on the professional student thing, despite my hatred for evening classes.

Maybe I can make this 3 p.m.-3 a.m. thing work...

Mondays Are Great Days to Be on Vacation

Still working on Eat, Pray, Love, but wow-ee wow does this book speak to me. (And yes, I did just say wow-ee wow. Haters.)

Am now 1 gift away from being done, done, done with Christmas shopping. And am completely done with wrapping, minus the gift to be named later.

What is it about CSI: reruns that suck you in and keep you glued to the T.V. for hours on end? (Granted all I was doing was making dinner and wrapping gifts, but still...)

I don't know how I lived my entire make-up wearing life as an oily skinned person without M.A.C. Blot Powder. Shine? What shine?

Went to the movies with The Moms to see Four Christmases today. Cute, but predictable, and worth every cent of the $13.50 I spent on my ticket and treats. (And The Moms and I pondered the serious subject of why popcorn always tastes better at the theater.)

Yesterday was one of my favorite people's birthday. And for the first time in 8 years, I wasn't there to celebrate it, despite my wanting desperately to invite myself over to what I know was a fabulous birthday dinner to watch him blow out the candles. Me and my wanting people to not be uncomfortable...

God, I'm too nice.

Whatever I Want

For the record, I've already had 2 offers to clean my apartment for cookies, though one offer stipulated "I will not pick up dog poo." But in all seriousness, I wouldn't even let my own mother bear witness to the depths of my slovenliness, I don't care how many cookies I end up eating myself.

Onward...

I ♥ the first day of my breaks. Usually this is because it's one of the few days that I allow myself to genuinely do whatever the hell I want. Stay in bed all day? Sure. Tackle that mess I kept saying I'd get to? No problem. Cruise the internet for hours? Absolutely. Shower? Negotiable. Run errands? Stay in my jammies all day? Watch endless hours of OnDemand? Write down the story of my life? Clean? Take a nap? Cook something yummy?

These are all possibilities.

So today, with my internal clock not quite on vacation time (as evidenced by my eyes snapping open at 4:45 a.m.), I began with 3 hours of reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (who by the way, has unknowingly been living in the recesses of my brain, took some of my deepest thoughts and fears, put them on paper, published them, and entitled it Eat, Pray, Love) which included some leftover homemade hummus snagged from yesterday's potluck (not to be all Rachael Ray, but Yum-o). Then 2 episodes of SATC, Season 5 on DVD (which was the season SJP was prego, so the viewers get kinda shortchanged -- only 8 episodes, as opposed to the requisite 12+). All from the comfort of my magic bed (more on that some other time).

Currently, I've got the Food Network rockin' with a big bowl of oatmeal with butter, brown sugar and craisins, and a giant mug of Earl Grey. All while wearing jammies and breaking in my new 3 inch peep toe Madden Girl's I got for 70% off at Mervyn's last night. (God love discount prices!)

Hmmm...what to do next?

Kristen's My Name, Random's My Game

• I am officially on vacation...From now until January 4th, 11:59 p.m. my time is my own.
  

• I'm 2 presents away from being done, done, done with my Christmas shopping. Actually wrapping them is a whole 'nother story...

• Someone in my complex has a dog that keeps shitting everywhere. Clean up after your fucking dog, dammit! No one wants to smell dog crap every time they walk outside, or have to keep watching their step. And it's obviously a fairly small dog, but that makes it even worse, because then you really have to watch closely where you're stepping. Next time my dog comes over, I'll be sure to show you what real dog poop looks like (before I chuck it in the bin, thank you very much.)
  

• I made so many holiday cookies, I'm running out of people to force them on. (But in my defense, I have been getting a lot of compliments...But maybe they're just scared of me since I forced cookies on them.)

• Today we had a Savor the Season/Thank God the Semester's Over potluck where we had to bring a dish that was from our heritage. So I brought rice (duh) and adobo...though I noticed the other Filipino girl in my office didn't even try it. Snotty Pinay...

• The last couple of days I've been thinking I'm coming down with a sinus infection...I've only had a gajillion of them in my lifetime, so I've got the signs and symptoms down pretty pat. Normally, I would just ride it out, but being so close to my recovery from the wretched cold, as well as with the holidays looming, I didn't want to have to deal with that shit, so I broke down and went to the doctor. Let me just say, I abhor going to the doctor. The waiting forever, being surrounded by sick people, having to get weighed and measured and poked and prodded. Yuck. And when I called, I found out that my doctor (a non-snotty Pinay) is out of the country until next year, but they could fit me in with someone else. Boo. But I was willing to do it. I had the first appointment after lunch, so I got right in. They did the vitals thing (though getting on a scale mere minutes after indulging in a Thank God the Semester's Over luncheon is not a good idea), the doctor came in shortly after...and essentially I paid a $10 co-pay for her to tell me to continue with my over the counter remedies. Blast!
  

• Between wrapping up the semester, shopping, doctor's appointments, vet appointments (for Sirius, not me), pedicure appointments, baking, cooking and dodging shit piles, I've neglected my house duties. Anyone like to wash clothes, dishes, bathtubs, etc? No? Come on...I have cookies!!
  

Shopping with The Moms

For the first time in what seems like forever, my mom agreed to go shopping with me (like beyond just a Walmart or Target run), as she had yet to begin her Christmas shopping, claiming the idea of Black Friday scares the bejesus out of her.

So the plan was to meet between 8 and 8:30 a.m. today at my apartment, before heading out to breakfast. Here we are:

Oops, too much zoom

There we go

After a yummy breakfast at one of my favorite spots, Avenue Grill, we headed out. We were going to head to Stockton and hit up the malls and Trinity Parkway. We did not take into account that it was Sunday, so most mall stores didn't open until 9, 10 or even 11. Um, helloooo mall people...it's the Holiday Season...people want to take care of business in the morning, ASAP, not halfway through the day, thank you very much.

Anyway, so we wandered through Barnes & Nobel and that's all because everywhere else was fucking closed. Boo.

Then we headed over to the other mall to Best Buy and wandered some more, while I showed mom a number of things I'd love to have. As the clock crept closer to 10 a.m., we approached the entryway that connects Best Buy with the mall, where the mutant at the door (is that all they hire there? And FYI, it was a different mutant than the Black Friday one) explained that the mall didn't open until 11 a.m. Boo. So accepting defeat, we headed out of Best Buy to the Petco next door to look for gifts for our respective dogs: Mom's mini schnauzer, Max, and my blue nosed pit, Sirius. (For the record, the one time that these two met, Max immediately turned tail to Sirius, essentially cementing the fact that Max would be Sirius' bitch. LOL)

That done, we headed back to the other mall, which we knew opened at 10 a.m., in the hopes of being able to spend the JC Penney gift card I received last year when I returned a Christmass gift sans receipt. One Little Black Dress later, we headed to the Bath department, as my mom was in search of the perfect set of rugs and towels to decorate their newly refurbished bathroom. Note to self: Black velour track suit + new towels and rugs = Fuzz-o-rama

Back to the other mall (Again. Boo.) since it is now after 11 a.m., where besides looking in every jewelry store window (her) and coveting the M.A.C. counter in it's entirety (me), I showed mom more gift ideas and hit up Bath and Body Works ($6 Wallflowers!).

Time for some lunch. Since we were heading in that direction, and mom hadn't been there before despite our rave reviews and noshing on leftovers past, we stopped at my absolute favorite pizza place ever -- Dante's California Style Pizza. There we indulged in some salad and a California Combo.

Needing to walk it off, we moved on to Trinity Parkway (AKA 8 Mile), where we did some damage at Bed, Bath & Beyond, before heading to Target to do the same.

So let's review, shall we? (Think 12 Days of Christmas)

1 LBD...Gotta love the clearance racks...$80 dress, 1/2 off, gift card for $29 and change...total cost to me: $13.50.

2 Yummy meals (plus a snack at Sonic)

Mmmm...Onion Rings

3 Potty breaks (No pics here, pervs)

4 Rude/Stupid cashiers. The girl at BB&B couldn't even muster a "Thank you and have a nice day"

5 M.A.C. Lipglasses!

6 Times I had to discourage Mom from buying clothes for Max. Or Sirius, for that matter. (What is the deal with that, anyway, all these "ensembles" for dogs? Dogs shouldn't wear clothes!!)

7 Gift ideas (Which, in case she forgot, I'll review here: 1. Garmin, 2. Wii Remote Charger, 3. Wii Music, 4. Printer/Scanner/Copier, 5. Speakers for my iPod/iPhone to plug into, 6. Uggs, and 7. Macy's gift card (so I don't have to covet anymore))

8 Million different shades of light, dark and navy blue. And we looked at every towel, hand towel, wash cloth, and rug imaginable.

9 Full minutes spent in the Target Toy Department before I gave up. And then I found it.

10 Shopping bags. (Don't get too excited. 3 things I bought were big enough to necessitate their own bag)

11 Cigarettes smoked. You think I'm kidding. Well you asked for it...

After Breakfast Cigarette

Before Barnes & Nobel

After B & N

Here I am, patiently waiting...

After Best Buy

On our way to JCP

After JCP

Me, not so patiently waiting

Mom getting irritated with all the pictures. On our way to Bath & Body

Me, trying not to choke

After Lunch

Before Bed, Bath & Beyond

Ambushed, post-Target

Post-Sonic, entranced by her 1/2 price drink

12 Screaming children...in each store we went into.

Thank god my holiday shopping is nearly done

Black Friday

First, as promised, a pie update:

As previously mentioned, I was in put in charge of dessert. Though there were only 4 of us coming to lunch, 4 pies were requested: pumpkin, pecan, pineapple cream and coconut cream. That's a whole lotta pie. So I said, Why not combine the pineapple and coconut and call it pina colada pie? So now we're down to 3 pies. Still a whole lotta pie, but I thought What would the Pilgrims do? And then made 3 pies.

So without going into too much detail, I made the pumpkin pie using a Martha Stewart recipe, the pecan using a Joy of Cooking recipe and the pina colada pie came from my head. After a fabulous lunch and a few minutes whipping up the fresh whipped cream, we sat down for the taste test. Mom, Grandma and I sat down to the pie sampler platter (Dad was in a tryptophan coma while the football game watched him.) The pecan pie tasted fabulous, but the filling did not set properly. Boo. The pumpkin was waaaaay too spicy for me; too much ginger and nutmeg I guess. And the center was set, but really soft. I like the really solid, unmoving kind of pumpkin pie. Double boo. So, the winner was...the pina colada pie. Creamy pudding, tangy pineapple and sweet toasted coconut. The only thing missing was the paper umbrella.

Shifting gears to Black Friday. First of all, are people fucking insane? Is Black Friday really that serious? It's enough to make a die-hard Black Friday-er like myself stay home next year. Ack.

Also, after 8 years of doing this, I had an epiphany that Black Friday was invented by a smart lady who just wanted an excuse to burn off all the calories she consumed from the day before.

Anyway, I had found something I wanted to get for my parents at a fabulous price in the Walmart ad and decided I'd start there when they opened at 5 a.m. So I set my alarm clock for 3:30 a.m. (yes, you read that right) and got to Walmart by 4:43 a.m. The line started at the doors and snaked along the side of the building, around the 6 store strip mall that is next to it, past the JC Penney and almost to my beloved Food 4 Less by the time I get there. The line extended all the way to Food 4 Less by the time we started moving. And I stepped into chaos at it's worst. Okay maybe not it's worst considering no one got fucking trampled to death. But still. What a sea of humanity. Then, despite my scouring the department of the gift I'm searching for and asking a mildly crazed floor employee, it's not there. Boo and 3/4. So I abandoned cart and jumped ship an hour after I got there without a thing, sneaking out the Garden Center exit.

This is entirely too much to deal with without a drop of caffeine in my system. This calls for a Starbucks run.

One shaken green iced tea, no syrup, extra ice later, I'm in Stockton in search of my back up plan. Eventually I end up at Circuit City, where the line was exponentially shorter and much more entertaining, as I got to see 3 different people trip over those concrete parking lot thingies. (Is it really that early in the morning? Or are you really that focused on getting into the line before someone else that you don't notice a big piece of concrete sticking up and out of the ground?) I found some stuff there, though I'm not exactly sure they were worth waiting in the long ass check-out line for, but whatever.

On to Best Buy, where really I was in search of the bathroom (damn green tea). The mutant guarding the entryway in front of the restrooms asked me to leave my bag (meaning my purse) in the area before entering the restrooms, where he would "watch it real close". I gave him the death stare, told him that I highly objected, and went on in anyway, while I heard him getting reprimanded that by bag they meant "shopping bags", not "purses". You fucking idiot. (Which wasn't actually said, just merely implied.)

Then to Bath & Body Works, which was more of a selfish mission, than anything else. (Did you see the fabulous V.I.P. bag?) And then on to the other mall where I found a great present (read: what she hinted for all of Thanksgiving Day) for my grandmother, and waited in line for 30 tortured minutes, as a I watched 2 small children run rampant through the store, as the mom in front of me weakly tried to contain them. All in a foreign language. And then there was the family behind me, which included the 12-year-old girl who complained that the jeans the mom "made" her get were too heavy to hold in this really long line. Ungrateful brat.

So I was home by noon, with 90% of my shopping done. (Yay!) But not feeling so hot about the human race. Tramplings?! Shootings?! In addition to the fact that the words "Excuse me", "Sorry" or even "My bad" seem to have escaped most people's vocabularies. Which is sad, considering I heard my 7-year-old little cousin say it the other day. (Big props to Gert and Ruby on that one...kids with manners, imagine that.) Also? My purse is not that big, so there is no reason why you should keep bumping it!!!! And lady behind me? Any particular reason you are so fucking close to me? Does the concept of personal space mean anything to you? If you said excuse me I might move. Also I'm sure I could summon up some lingering wretched cold germs if you'd really like me to share.

So another Black Friday is behind us...At this rate it may be my last...

(p.s. Reading this over, I realize that I overuse the word "fabulous". I'll work on that.)

More Randomness

• Wretched cold is hanging on for dear life. I still have the occasional cough and you can definitely hear it in my voice at times. A friend at work said she had the cough thing for 3 weeks! Blast!


• Last Thursday, I finished up this semester of Delta College Community Choir. Our performance was well attended by...7 people. Oh em gee, I hope that we can sustain to next semester.
  


• Went on Friday to watch Twilight with Dee, Garry and Dee's mom. I never get tired of saying this...Edward Cullen rox my sox!


• Last Saturday I went with some co-workers to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in San Francisco, aka FIDM. Which most people only know about because of Lauren Conrad and the fact that she attends the L.A. counterpart.
  


• Speaking of The Hills, Heidi and Spencer eloped. WTF? Is she effing insane? Mark my words, she will rue the day...


• Speaking of celebrities...Bronx Mowgli? Seriously?
  


• Also last Saturday, post-FIDM, I went with my cousins Renee and Carly, and Nicole to see Trace Adkins and Alan Jackson. Oh, and James Otto opened. They were all awesome! And if you're not a country music fan, this means absolutely nothing to you. LOL
  
  
  


• This past Sunday, Ron brought my dog over to my house for the very first time. I hadn't had him over sooner because...well to be honest, we'd never really thought about it. Then it magically presented itself as an idea and Sirius came for his first visit. I was very very afraid that being a boy dog he would try to mark something and that something would be my couch. But, we kept him on the leash for the first 30 minutes or so and we watched him like a hawk, and everything went well. And of course the first thing he did was jump on my couch (natch). But now we know that he can hang out here and it won't be a problem. Other than the fact that a 90+ lbs. dog likes to climb up in your lap.

Carly thinks Ron feeds him steroids, but actually it's small, noisy children


• Currently I'm on Thanksgiving break. Gotta ♥ the public education calendar.


• My mother has put me in charge of Thanksgiving dessert. I'll report back on this one later.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Pismo

Okay, okay.

So as previously mentioned, when I was on my road trip back in September, the best 20 minutes of the whole trip (for me) was when we stopped at Pismo Beach and got to stick a toe in the ocean. So when I heard that one of my 4 favorite aunts was headed there, I convinced her to invite me (read: invited myself. Yes I'm rude like this) to join her and her family, and I (of course) enthusiastically accepted.

Now, okay. We all know that I'm trying to try new things. Like going with the flow and being able to give up my long-standing membership to Control Freaks R Us. But as I've illustrated here many, many times before, my life in real time hardly ever resembles my life in my head. So I'm not really sure why I was so surprised that things were nothing like I'd expected.

Okay, let me lay some groundwork here. Here's what I knew. The weekend before Veteran's Day, I would be leaving at 5 pm Friday to head to Pismo Beach with my Aunt Deb, Uncle Richard, cousin Renee and cousin Jimmy and his wife Maria and their 2 boys, Devin and Hunter. Deb and Rich and Jimmy and Maria both have 5th wheel trailers that they would set up on the beach. Shortly before we went, Renee did a little research and asked me if I was down to split a hotel room, which after very little thought, I agreed. A few days before we left, I found out that my cousin Tyler and his girlfriend, Nicole and her daughter, Paris, would be joining us as well. (It's a Cousin-palooza!) And since I'm going with the flow, I don't ask a lot of logistical questions, I just pack my bags and show up with a smile on my face.

So in my head, I thought I would leave work right at 2:30 so I could come home and pack. Then we would leave at 5 on the dot, arrive in Pismo 6 hours later, where those with 5th wheels would head to the campground and set up their camp while Renee and I head to the hotel, where I stretch out on my queen sized bed and use my normal sized shower before heading to camp with just the 11 of us hanging out, walking on the beach, reading in the sun (okay that one's more just me), eating like mad, riding 4 wheelers (that one's definitely not me) and making s'mores around the campfire and drinking some grown-up beverages, before going back to the mo-tel, ho-tel, Holi-day Inn (this is probably only funny to Renee) and starting all over again.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

That Friday at work, I forgot I had a parent meeting at 2:30, which required Spanish translation, which usually means you can tack on an extra 10-15 minutes to the normal running time (because basically everything is being said twice). So I finally got home at 3:25, needing to be at the designated meeting spot between 4 and 4:30. And I need to pack clothes, shoes, toiletries, books and magazines and my lawn chair. Oh and I need to find the bags I'm gonna use to put all this stuff in. So one mini-hurricane later, I'm throwing my things in the trunk and frantically caling my mom because for some reason, I don't have Deb's number and I need to let her know that at 4:19 pm, I'm heading to the store to buy snacks, and then over to pick my mom up so that she can drop me off at the designated meeting spot, AKA Deb, Rich and Renee's house, and that obviously, I am not going to make it between the 4 and 4:30 window. While I'm at the store, mom calls me back and says, no worries, Deb says they're running behind too.

Okay, deep breath.

So I arrive at the house and find out that we are waiting on Rich and Jimmy, two very key players here, to return from the Santa Rosa area on their way back from a funeral. But no worries, they just called and they just left. And have a 3 hour drive ahead of them. On a Friday. With traffic.

Sigh.

One yummy Chinese food dinner and 2 hours of Food Network later, we are ready to rock! So we all pile in and head out. At 8:30-ish. And we are caravaning, with Renee and I in her truck in between the 2 trailers. And I promptly fall asleep. (Poor Renee.) So I wake up at 12:45-ish when we make a stop in Kettleman City. About 2-ish we make it to an RV stopping place where both trailers fill up their water compartments, which took no less than 30 or so minutes (it's a little foggy since I kept nodding off). Then we head to the campground where in order to make it through the sand, both trailers and the trucks pulling them have to "air down", which basically means letting air out of every single tire, so that they don't bog down in some of the softer areas of sand. Which takes another 15 mintues or so. And we drive down the Sand Highway and pass trailer after trailer and campsite after campsite. About 1/3 of the way down, Jimmy finds friends of his and Maria's and they set up camp there. Somewhere along the way, it was revealed that Renee and I would be sleeping in Deb and Rich's trailer for that night, as we couldn't check-in to the hotel until later on Saturday. I haven't a clue as to how long it took to set up camp, as I was fast asleep in Renee's truck, until she wrenched the door open and asked me if I was planning to sleep in the truck all night. At 4 a.m. So in a semi-conscious state, I utilize the mini-facilities of the trailer and crash out on my side of the bed (Renee and I got to share).

Christ on a cracker. So far, this resembles absolutely nothing I saw in my head. Because did I mention? While technically we are on Pismo Beach, we are not actually in the town of Pismo? We are in Oceano at the Oceano Dunes State Vehicular Recreation Area. Where apparently we are there during some sort of "weekend", because there are trailers and tents and people and kids and dogs and ATV's of all shapes and sizes, as far as the eye can see. And it is now 9 am, we can't check into the hotel until 3 pm and nothing has gone as planned (at least from my perspective).

So I go to my happy place, AKA sitting down with a book. A funny book at that (God ♥ Stephanie Plum!) So by the time we leave to go to the hotel, I'm in much better spirits (even though I had a near death experience when I almost whacked my head on the towel bar in the trailer's bathroom when I was standing up after a pee), and while the hotel is nothing fancy, it has a big soft bed, with lots of fluffy pillows, cable tv and a bathroom that doesn't inflict claustraphobia. After settling in, and each indulging in heavenly shower, we head to Starbucks (♥) before heading back to camp. (Side note: Drinking Starbucks while on the beach fucking rocks!) By then more of Jimmy and Maria's friends have arrived, including a family I will call the Whiners, because the little boy whined like mad, and because I'm so awful with names, I couldn't tell you their real names anyway. So we have a yummy hotdog/hamburger dinner before sitting down to the campfire.

This is the inside of a washing machine. Fucking genius, I tell ya.

So after some s'mores Renee and I head back and have a comfy night's sleep. But she says I snored. And I say that she coughed a lot. Because did I mention? That like 5 of the 11 folks are sick? With a wretched cold? That aside, it was a very nice to have the comforts of a hotel room.

So next morning, after another Starbucks run, we head back to the Dunes. Where, despite all the people there, we are doing the things I thought we would. Hurray! I'm reading and chilling and eating and then I go for a walk on the beach.

See, here I am.

These guys kept following me.

How can that not make you happy?

By the time I got back from my 3 mile (!) meandering down the beach, yet another family joined our group, a family I'll call the Hellions, because again, that's what their kids were and I couldn't tell you their real names anyway. But after a yummy steak dinner and more s'mores, we headed back for another comfy night.

And I woke up with a little tickle in the back of my throat. Oh no. By the end of the day I was sniffling and sneezing and not really happy about it. But before that, on our way in we saw this guy

Maria said he came ashore because he was sick. I think he was just saying "What's up?"

And I was able to go down to the water again, this time with a group, but it was still very nice.

See, here I am again. Sort of

Here are the kids looking for...shells I guess

:) !

So by the time we got back to the hotel, I was in full-fledged sick mode. Boo.

We get up a little later than usual the next morning, but we know we only have until 11 before we have to check-out. Being full-fledged sick with wretched cold, however, my main objective at this point is to just get home and into my own bed. So we head to the campsite where everyone in our group is packing up. Then they have to dig out the trucks and trailers, drive out of the campground, air up (think the opposite of air down), and dump the water that wasn't used all before we can get on the road. This entire process took about 60+ minutes, while in my head, we would leave the sand and be off (will I never learn?).

Basically slept the entire ride (Again, poor Renee) to Kettleman City, where we stopped for a bite and I ate a grand total of 1/2 of a $1 Fruit and Yogurt parfait (which is the equivalent of nothing) before dragging myself back to the truck and falling fast asleep. Woke up around Tracy and we made it back to Deb, Rich and Renee's house all in one piece. Mom came and picked me up and I was able to collapse into my fabulous, comfortable bed in a Nyquil fog.

So what did I learn on this trip?

• Ask questions. Lots of them

• Standing downwind of the campfire means you will smell like a campfire

• Hotel camping is the only way to go

• When half the people around you are sick, including your roomie, there is no doubt you will catch it

• S'mores are a little piece of heaven, right here on earth

• The ocean has magical soul-healing powers (but I think I might have already known that)

• But sand in your eyes does not
  
  
  

Looking for Something to Read?

Still sick. Still recovering. Get over it.

In the meantime, if you're looking for something to read, click here. This is a blog by my favorite blogger Jen Lancaster, about the Election. In short, her team lost, yet (I think) she wrote very graciously about it.

Mucinex is my new BFF.

Your patience is appreciated...while on fabulous vacation, caught wretched cold and am once again trying to recover from being deathly ill. But hope to post again soon about said fabulous vacation.

Now where's my Zicam?

Election '08

I don't know much about politics, and I don't try to pretend I do. I try to stay up on current events, but I don't keep my tv stuck on CNN, nor do I try to understand every single thing I hear or try to go beyond just the surface of most issues. (Now before you jump on my case, I know I just told you all last post to utilize your resources and get informed. I didn't say I'm not an informed voter. I just said that I don't know much about politics. There is a difference.)

I believe who and what I vote for is between me and my ballot. Over the last 6 months, I've observed friends, family, coworkers, and perfect strangers make their position well known, which personally I don't think is necessary, but at the same time, is part of what makes this country great (I'm talking Freedom of Speech here, people!) I don't understand the point of debating why McCain would be a better president or why Obama wouldn't be up to the job. Maybe I just have too much of my momma in me, but I wonder why people can't just respect each other's opinions and leave it at that. But then again, that may go against not only the essence of Freedom of Speech, but human nature in general. I don't know who's idea it was initially, but the theme of Good vs. Evil, Us vs. Them, One vs. The Other is timeless. So I guess I shouldn't question the idea of A vs. B, as it's something that is part of the fabric of this country, possibly the world.

As I write this, post-Obama acceptance speech, I can't help but fall into that cliche of "living history". (Which if you think about it, happens Every. Day.) Today is a day that may hold "Where were you when 9/11 happened?"-type discussions in the future. But regardless of which side you support, or who you voted for, if you genuinely listen to Barack Obama, I hope you are able to catch an Nth of his energy, his hope, his belief in the American people and the potential of this country, which he sums up simply with "Yes we can!" Because I have to say, watching Obama's speech has gotten me energized, hopeful and believing that this country has not come close to tapping the potential it holds, and that the time to do that is now.

Sadly though, I think too many folks are unwilling to look past color lines, party lines, religious lines and whatever other lines you could think of, to stop and listen with an open mind, to what he has to say and what his ideas are. (Though maybe I'm overestimating these folks' ability to be open-minded if they're willing to judge someone based on their skin color, political leanings and/or religious beliefs.)

Whether it's a positive or negative, change is stressful and scary and because of that, people tend to shy away from it and reject the unfamiliar. (Do you think he's not a little scared right now? Honestly if he wasn't I'd be concerned.) I have heard people say that because Obama has been elected, the country is doomed, they're moving to Canada for the next 4-8 years, or they hope someone takes him out early. But my god, can't we give the man the opportunity to prove himself? Or, let's reframe it so that it fits those who aren't Obama supporters...Can't we give him the opportunity to fail?

But at this point, he's obviously done something right, as right now, Barack Obama is the next President of the United States of America.

Random Notes

Apparently while being deathly ill, I threw up so hard I burst some blood vessels in my right eye. It's on like the bottom part of my eye, so it doesn't show to the general public, but it still grossed the hell out of me this morning when I was putting in my contacts. And it's like a train wreck. I know it gives me the heebie jeebies, but I keep checking it to see if it's gone away yet.

In my haste to toss out my now moldy jack-o-lanterns, I also threw out my pumpkin scented candle that I only used at Halloween. And besides not wanting to go dumpster diving, I decided I'm perfectly okay with it, considering that the idea of that candle puts my teeth on edge considering it was picked out by someone whose name rhymes with "gone" (pun intended, people), who then decided that I shouldn't burn said candle because it reeked. Bah!

I love how so many people are excited about this "historic election". I'm excited that I get to vote tomorrow. I do not love all the commercials or all the things I've been getting in the mail, which I'm not gonna lie, go straight into the bin. I also do not love how so many people utilize these commercials and flyers (I almost wrote propaganda. Almost.) as their ONLY source of information about the candidate and propositions. Seriously? In 2008? In this age of technology? There is an IMMENSE amount of information out there that can help you sift through all the crap that you hear/see/receive and let you make an informed decision. USE IT!

Another thing...

to add to the "Living Alone" list

Living alone means when you are deathly ill with a 24 hour bug, there's no one around to help take care of you. (Unless your mom's feeling extra nice and brings you juice and bread since she was going to the store anyway. Thanks, mommas!)

Living alone also means when you are recovering from being deathly ill, you have to make your own dinner of peanut butter and syrup (which if you don't know what that is, then obviously your family tree doesn't have Southern roots. Which is just your too bad)

Peace out, I'm going to bed

Trick or Treat?

I ♥ Halloween! I ♥ the decorations. I ♥ dressing up. I ♥ carving pumpkins. I ♥ candy, both giving and receiving (and eating, duh). I ♥ how we have a potluck at work. I don't necessarily like scary. But everything else is ♥ ♥ ♥

(It probably doesn't hurt that Halloween is also about 2 weeks post-birthday, so in a way it is the delayed after party to my birthday. And who wouldn't love that?)

Being that Halloween this year falls on a Friday, I wasn't 100% sure how I was going to fit all of my preparations in, as I have a commitment on Thursday nights. So, I decided to leave a little early from work, do a little running around, and then come home, where I made Kristen's World Famous Kick Ass Chili (patent pending) (Just kidding, I've just always wanted to say that). While that was simmering away, I decided to attack my pumpkins.

A note about my pumpkins: They came from Walmart, but only cost me $5, which in my world is an awesome steal. However, there is a reason that Walmart is selling pumpkins for $2.50. Some are rotten, most don't sit properly, almost all are misshapen, and all are dirty. It took me a good 20 minutes to find the 2 I did buy. Here are their good sides:


Here I am, totally stoked that I'm about to carve these bad boys up:

Here are the tools I will use in this battle:

The best $1 I've ever spent. These flimsy looking things shit on regular knives when it comes to pumpkins

Here I am wielding said tools:

Bitch, I will cut you

Tops are off:

And I'm going in!

Pumpkin guts are disgusting. Good thing Friday is garbage day

First pumpkin, done!


Had a couple of minutes, so I gave him some eyebrows:



Pause, to go to choir practice...

Return and make this guy:

He's no Edward Cullen, but still...

Spooky, I know

So, at work, we had the theme of "Back in the Saddle Again" and so we dressed up as cowboys. My costume, of course, rocked. (But obviously not enough for me to remember to take a picture).

One other thing I ♥ about Halloween is that there is always food around to help celebrate, including the aforementioned potluck. Here is a list of what I ate today (try not to judge too harshly):

Coffee cake
A donut
A blueberry muffin
Starbucks drink
Tortilla chips with 7 layer dip
Tortilla chips with mango salsa
Chili dog with sour cream, cheese and onions
Pasta salad
BBQ potato chips
Apple crisp with vanilla ice cream
2 cups of hot apple cider
2 bottles of water
An oatmeal cookie
Pan dulce (Still warm. Yummmmmm)
2 packs of smarties candy
A mini bagel with cream cheese
Pizza and salad. And 2 chicken wings. With ranch.
More water

(Needless to say, one of the motivators to blog is the fact that I can hardly move anything except fingers)

So I rolled home (pun intended) and put out my super sweet jack-o-lanterns and got my candy ready:

And waited...and waited...and waited...

until 7:55 when my very first (non-pizza delivery guy) trick-or-treaters arrived. And about 20 minutes later my next one came up to the door. When I finally closed the door, this is how much candy I had:

I promise you, this is a different picture

So, including the pizza guy, I had a grand total of....4 trick-or-treaters.

Blast!

Am I expecting too much here? It is a Friday night. I live right by a school for god's sake; there are definitely children in the vicinity. Granted, I know that it was raining earlier and it was a little breezy...but not between the hours of 4:15 (when I got home) and 9:00 (when I turned out the light and shut the door).

Does anyone want some candy?

Ticket to Nowhere

Even though Tokay's home football season hasn't ended yet, my tenure as a ticket seller has. And as previously stated, I was going to bitch, I mean share with all of you about my experience.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't even 100% sure how I got into this in the first place. In August, I mentioned to the department's secretary, Jodie, that I'd like to attend the home football games, because 1) I like football, 2) Many of my students are involved as players or cheer/song leaders and I'd like to show my support, and 3) Many of the other staff go and talk about how much fun it is and hey, I'm trying to branch out and try some new things, and she replied, "Well that should be easy since you and I will be taking tickets at the games."

Say what?

And then, with her gentle reminding, I vaguely remembered a walk-by conversation with our Athletic Director, Jeff, who's also a teacher at Tokay, while on my way to picture day, where I believe the words, "It's a hoot" came out of Jodie's mouth (yes, god love her, she really says stuff like that. And no, she's not 80) and "Sure, why not" came out of mine.

As many of you have probably started to notice, how I think things are going to be and how they really are are two very very different things. (It's the whole idea of Theory vs. Practice. Which is essentially the story of my life. Any job I've had. College. Grad School. Marriage. Living next door to folks with small children. I think you get the picture.)

So Day 1 of Ticket Selling is a little different than normal because it's a triple header Thursday game with Frosh/JV/Varsity all playing the same evening due to the Grape Festival that weekend (normally Frosh is on Thursday and Jv/V is on Friday).. I can't be there right on time because I have a workshop at the County Office of Ed, which is way out in BFE (for those of you not up on your mid-90's slang BFE=Bum Fucked Egypt, which means out in the middle of fucking no where), so I arrive at 5, shortly before the start of JV. Jodie gives me a rundown of prices ($6 General, $4 High School, Middle School and Elementary students and Senior Citizens, 5 & under are free, as are pop warner players, band members, cheer/song leaders, and coach's significant others and families). and we're off and...broiling. It's a good 95+ degrees outside. So imagine that while in a 4'x6' wooden shack. With little ventilation. While the sun is beating down directly on said shack. At 5 p.m.!!!

I think it's safe to say I was miserable.

Additionally, since this is the first game, no one knows that the tickets cost what they do, so hardly anyone had correct change, so at some points I was doling out quarters. Also, at that point in the year, the sun didn't go down until closer to 7 p.m. and it still only brought the temperature down to the 80's, which as previously discussed, is too goddamn hot for this girl, so I left that evening sweaty, dehydrated, starving and headachy (as if my brain got overcooked and my body was trying to let me know)

The remaining 3 games I worked were similar, though now pop warner were only free with a paid adult admission (which we had to enforce that first night on 2 little boys who were savvy enough to convince a couple to let them tag along). The second game was still an inferno, but people were starting to get the hang of the prices, at least. The 3rd game was the first night of the incredibly high winds and it was the complete opposite of the first game. Jodie called her husband, begging for Starbucks, which worked better as handwarmers than anything else. I did actually stay for that game since half my family were on the Away side (But metal bleachers + high winds = ice cube ass).

My final game was last night, and Jodie had an appointment and couldn't make it, so I was stuck with a different Ticket Seller, who had done just about every other type of event, just not football, and whom I'm conviced is dumber than a rock (which is sad considering she works on our campus), as evidenced by her lack of (for lack of a better term) social graces, screeching "I can help someone here" at the couple who are paying together at my window, or her calling out to people"Helloooo" in the "Oh my god, you are retarded" kind of way, rather than the "Hi. I'm trying to get your attention" kind of way. Oh and I can't forget about when she said she was running out of ones, and so should she use the money under the cash drawer (Um, yes, sweetie, WTF do you think that's for? Decoration?!)

So let's review some of the high points of Ticket Selling, shall we?

• Little shack + hot weather = Kristen unhappy

• Little shack + cold winds = Kristen unhappy

• Kristen only works well with intelligent individuals

• People like to shoot the messenger. I am not the person responsible for ticket prices. I am just the one to enforce them. P.S. I don't give a shit about last year

• People think they are funny. Don't say you're a Senior Citizen when you are really 20, and don't say it when you're like 47 and I'll start to give you that ticket and you say "Just kidding!"

• People are rude. When I say "Hi, how are you?" or attempt to engage them in any way, more often than not, I get a blank stare.
  

• People think I'm a mind reader. Don't assume I know that you are a Senior Citizen, a general, have 2 more in your party who you're paying for, or that your kid is under 5. Because ya know what? I would bet I'd guess wrong.

• Kids are dumb. If you are a student, say so. It doesn't matter if you don't go to Tokay. It doesn't matter if you don't go to an LUSD school. We'll give you the Student price. You just have to open your mouth. And. Say. So. (As previously mentioned, I'm not a mind reader)

• People treat their money horribly. (Perhaps that's truly what's wrong with the economy...bad money karma) They fold it, crinkle it, ball it up, keep it all mixed up by denomination, and then they just throw it at you and expect you to unfold, uncrinkle, unball it for them. Which also falls under the "People are rude" category.
  

• Just because you sell tickets at football doesn't mean you get to watch football. The announcers are barely understandable in the stands, let alone in the booth. And we don't close up until halftime of the Varsity game. So basically you have no idea what's going on, and the last half of the game for our team is usually not that exciting (usually because we are losing)

So in conclusion (sorry to sound all 5 paragraph essay on ya -- but I am writing this as I sit in a classroom, proctoring the ACT), I don't know if football ticket selling is for me. I'd much rather exercise my right as a staff to get into the game for free, at the time I choose, most likely when it's close to a temp I find tolerable, and actually watch the game with my own 2 eyes, in it's entirety. Then again...at least basketball ticket sales are indoors...

You Know...

A recap of my Monday:

You know it might be a bad day when you realize you put your underpants on inside out. (Though definitely not as bad as the first time you tried thong underwear, and suffered through an hour before realizing you had them on sideways). (Shut up).

You know it might be an interesting discussion when a parent drops in on you, sits down, and starts the conversation by announcing "Well you know you have a fat ass when you don't fit in the chair."

You know it might be a heart wrenching day when one of your favorite students comes in and says "I don't have a place to live." Or you find out that same day that 2 of your other students are homeless too.

You know it might be an unproductive day when you have 2 meetings to go to and you're the only participant who's on time.

You know that there's just no pleasing some people when you hear about a teacher who has a brand new classroom with ample space, and fabulous amenities, but still complains that there's no place to put books.

You know that it's good to have a sense of humor when you have to deal with all of these things dressed as a cavewoman. (God ♥ Spirit Week!)

They say it's your birthday...

So as of right this second, it is officially my birthday, and I am officially 31 years old (though I'm sure my mother might argue that technically, 31 years ago, she was just getting settled into the hospital at this point and I didn't make my grand entrance until 7:49 a.m., but let's not split hairs).

So another year older, another year wiser?

Perhaps.

I can honestly say that I am not where I thought I'd be at this point in my life. But as a friend recently pointed out to me, there's really no deadline for things to happen in life. And, this is my life, right? So it's not like other people are trying to hold me to deadlines (and if they are...well, then fuck 'em).

There are still a gagillion things I'd like to do in this life...things to learn, places to explore, people to meet, experiences to have...So what the fuck am I waiting for?

Obviously, I'm not getting any younger. LOL

The Sound of Silence

I'm sitting here in my apartment, and for the first time in the 4 months that I've been here, I'm enjoying the quiet. When I first moved in, my landlord (whom my mother insists on calling Donald Hollinger. Which is only funny if you are up on your That Girl) told me that my neighbor had 2 kids, an 11 year old boy and a "little boy". Okay. I'm in the kid business, so no biggie, right?

Wrong.

Oh god, so very wrong.

"Little Boy" is about 3 years old. Little Boy still wears diapers (which I know because only until very recently (read: when the weather started to turn), he would run around in a t-shirt and diaper, or just a diaper. And. That's. It.). Little Boy has 2 volumes: Loud and Louder. Which is how Little Boy got christened with his full name, The Loudest Little Boy In The World.

I don't think Little Boy knows how to talk. Whine? Sure. Cry? Yep. Yell? Definitely. Scream Bloody Murder? Absolutely. But talk? Can't say I've ever heard that. And the Screaming Bloody Murder part seems to be his favorite form of expression, since he does that when he's happy, sad, excited, frustrated, joyful, pissed, or any other feeling a small child may experience. And he expresses himself at all hours of the day. And night. (You have no idea how many times I've been getting ready for bed, or am already there when he's still outside. Still yelling).

I must say, initially, I thought perhaps there was something wrong with Little Boy. Like a developmental delay (which back in our parents' day was called retarded). Or something along the autism spectrum (which back in our parents' day was called retarded). And while this was never confirmed or denied (only because I hadn't come up with a polite way of asking "What the fuck is wrong with your kid?"), I don't think this is the case.

Now don't get me wrong. I know kids make noise. I know kids have to learn about inside and outside voices. I know that kids have to learn the differences between appropriate and inappropriate feeling expression. But Jesus H. Christ, Little Boy is beyond all of that. And honestly, maybe it would be slightly more tolerable if the parents actually did something about it.

Let me pause here in order to paint a mental picture. My apartment "complex" consists of 4 apartments with a shared laundry room between every 2 apartments. These apartments are mirrored across the walkway by 4 identical apartments. And even thought my side's apartments have one address (1340) and the other side's have a different address (1344), the 1340 apartments are odd numbered and the 1344 apartments are even numbered. (Confused yet?) Oh and the 1340 apartments have one landlord (the aforementioned Donald Hollinger), while the 1344 apartments have a different landlord.

Okay, so Little Boy lives with his dad, AKA my neighbor. Well before I came onto the scene, my neighbor and the lady in apartment #2 (who has a 6 year old son) got together and decided they would like to cohabitate, but in order to do that, they must first find a vessel large enough for their pseudo-Brady Bunch (which is how I see them, since the kids all call the adults "Mom" and "Dad". For example, "I'm gonna tell Dad!!" ~ as not spoken by Little Boy).

Anyway, so as I mentioned, the yelling, crying and incessant screaming may have been a bit easier to swallow if the parents had some sort of strategy in place to deal with it. Okay, let me rephrase. If they had an effective strategy in place. Because they really only seem to have 2 : 1) Ignore it, and 2) Yell at him to (wait for it) Stop Yelling.

Now again, don't get me wrong. Being a parent is a hard job. So hard, it's one job I've chosen not to subject myself to. But for god's sake, if something is not working (like getting your kid to be quiet), then perhaps you should try some different approaches to get the result you want.

But I digress...

So apparently a house was recently found and this weekend, moving commenced. And while, they've monopolized the recycling bins and compromised the walkways and driveways more times than I can count this weekend, I've found that I just don't care. Because The Loudest Little Boy In The World doesn't live here anymore.

Breaking Dawn

Oh. My. God.

Finally, finally finished Breaking Dawn.

Am so, so in love with this entire story. Always a sucker for a good romance.

Again, run, don't walk to your nearest bookseller and get these books and read them!!

Can't wait for the movie next month! I've already got a date with my boo, Dee to watch it!

Your Patience is Appreciated

Bah! I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm about 3/4 of the way done with Breaking Dawn...but it's like I find every possible opportunity not to read it. It's like I don't want to know what's gonna happen. And this one has been a doozy. It seems like just when I think something else can't possibly twist the plot any more...something else happens that twists the plot even more!!!

It's a sickness, I tell ya!!!

Eclipse

Finally, finally finished Eclipse. And I'm (wo)man enough to admit that I cried often. (Though it could have just been Mother Nature and her bothersome gift. Sorry if that's a TMI).

I think I've shifted to Team Jacob a bit.

New Moon

Finished New Moon last night. Oooooh, the plot thickens...

About 1/3 of the way done with then next installment.

Will report back later...

Where are you in your Twilight saga journey? (And if you're done, please don't ruin it for me!!!)

Twilight

Read last night until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. (In fact woke up at 230 a.m. with book poking into my gut and bedside lamp ablaze). This morning, realized I was only 1.5 pages away from the Epilogue (Doh!) Started New Moon today, but haven't had much time to read; am only on Chapter 3.

Without ruining it for anybody who hasn't read them, let me just say this...

I can't imagine ever loving someone like she loves him.

Now...Go! Get to Target or Borders or B&N or Amazon and get these books (because you know the library is tapped out) and read them! You won't be disappointed.

Bloggus Interuptus

Will not post for a while. Am currently enthralled with the Twilight series. Am only on Chapter 8 of first book. This may take awhile...

This Is a Changing Day In Your Life

This is a copy of a blog that I posted 200 days ago on MySpace. Since my struggle is still the same, I thought I'd share it here on my 1000th day without soda.

So today is my 800^th day without soda. I know to most people, and to people who have more destructive addictions, this might not sound like much, but for me, it is a genuine accomplishment. My drug of choice is caffeine. And while I still have a love/hate relationship with it, I have removed my choice method of ingestion from my life. While I still imbibe on coffee (with Splenda) and tea (unsweetened), soda, with its sugar and sodium and calories and preservatives, is no longer an option.

I was the one at the restaurant who would suck down half a glass before the waitress had left the table, and then have her running to refill my glass at least a half dozen times. I remember when I was working nights, I would practically count the seconds until I was done and I could roll through Jack’s drive thru and get my fix. The window jockey would hand me my paper cup of blissful carbonation and I would not even be out of the parking lot and my first sip was burning down my throat. I would actually let out a sigh of pleasure.

So 800 days…still feels like the first one, though I must admit, the dreams have stopped (yes, I would have dreams about drinking soda). I literally crave a soda every day. I hear someone at work crack one open and I’m like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Ron gets annoyed with me because I’ll ask to smell his soda when he dares to drink one in my presence. But just like everything else, I’ll get through it…

Rationalization # 8726

UPDATE: Decided to bite the bullet and just do a body check already. BMI and weight are slightly lower than my last body check, um....18 days ago. (Shut up) Attributes this only to the fact that I sweated my literal ass off last night in the ticket oven, I mean box, at the football game. (I haven't mentioned that I'm selling tix at the Tokay home FB games? Trust and believe, a post is in your future)

Since I recently walked 2000 miles in 4 days. Approximately. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, scroll down to "Road Trip" blog. I'll wait... *taps foot*). Anyway, since I walked soooo much in the very recent past, I've been allowing myself every excuse possible to not step a single toe on my Wii Fit.

Oh, and I've been eating like a hog.

Now am very frightened to ever step foot again on Wii Fit, in fear that it will kindly tell me "Hey, one at a time!"

Why Do I Insist on Doing This to Myself?

I ♥ baklava (which if you don't know what that is...well, shame on you ) but it is chock full of walnuts...which I'm mildly allergic to. Basically it makes the inside of my mouth raw, which as you can imagine, hurts! Like hell!

Yet, here I find myself with my mouth aching, as I recently ingested a decadent, flaky, honey drenched parallelogram of yumminess.

Bah.

Really...

From Yahoo! News:


Clay is gay: Aiken comes out of the closet

Is anyone genuinely shocked by this?

Yeah, I didn't think so.