Dance like nobody's watching, or while everybody is watching...
This video of the dancing 2 yr old proves how great kids are. Do you remember what it was like to be so so sure that whatever you were doing was the right thing to do?
My mom tells a story of me as a little 3 year old, dining with my fam, at a Mexican restaurant, in Chico, CA. The restaurant had a musician and I decided to ask the guy if he knew the song "Kokomo" (Bermuda, Bahama, coooome on, pretty mama...) He told me he didn't. Of course, he actually did, but at 3, I had not yet mastered lies, sarcasm, and all those other adult games.
So, when he asked if I would sing it for him, I happily obliged. I believe I sang and danced while he "magically" played, the song he had never heard, on his guitar.
Point being- how great is it to be a kid?! I would never, ever, ever, ever, ever, eeevveeeer get up in a restaurant now and sing a song- even if it was "Happy Birthday".
But, maybe some time this week, take a moment and be a kid again- act silly, be confident, strut your stuff, and own it.
Happy Monday.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Party like it's 1999
A friend sent me this rad article today. If you grew up in the 90's, you must read it. Yes, I am telling you what to do.
This is a cop-out of a post, but... group presentation, graduation final paper, big scary exam and surprise COLD (!!!) have got in the way.
I'm sure you are all just as busy, so take a moment to re-live your youth and then run to the store to find gel pens...gosh I loved those. Even though I KNEW they were sub par because the ink would go from nothing to too much so sporadically..they were so cool!
And while I'm reminiscing, does anyone remember dunkaroos? The bf and I randomally mentioned those the other day. I loved them. 1. because frosting and a cookie type item are a magical combination 2. I don't remember my parents ever buying them, which means I 1. had them at friends houses 2. begged my grandma to buy them. Stuff that you don't get on a regular basis is so much better. :)
This is a cop-out of a post, but... group presentation, graduation final paper, big scary exam and surprise COLD (!!!) have got in the way.
I'm sure you are all just as busy, so take a moment to re-live your youth and then run to the store to find gel pens...gosh I loved those. Even though I KNEW they were sub par because the ink would go from nothing to too much so sporadically..they were so cool!
And while I'm reminiscing, does anyone remember dunkaroos? The bf and I randomally mentioned those the other day. I loved them. 1. because frosting and a cookie type item are a magical combination 2. I don't remember my parents ever buying them, which means I 1. had them at friends houses 2. begged my grandma to buy them. Stuff that you don't get on a regular basis is so much better. :)
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
To vote or not to vote
I have pretty strong memories of being in elementary school and having a mock vote during a presidential election. What I remember more than anything are these two things: 1. hearing that a person's voting choice is an extremely personal choice that can be kept a secret 2. being so jealous of grown ups who got to really vote (and eat ice cream any time they wanted).
1. I think a person's voting selection is a lot less secretive than it was a generation or two ago. Many people are more than willing to share their picks for commander in chief and some go so far as to sport bumper stickers, facebook statuses and over priced t-shirts that let everyone know "hey, I like that guy!"
Even if you don't outwardly say who you vote for, people might be able to guess. Our clothes, hobbies, personal values and career choice often say a lot about what we like and who we stand for.
And yet, I think I would like to live in a time when people had no idea who their neighbors, co-workers, kids or spouses were voting for. The conversations leading up to the election are always heated, and sometimes stimulating. And maybe without knowledge of who someone votes for we would have less of that.
I can proudly say that two of my bffs are republicans and we some how find a way to love each other just as much as if we all agreed on what puppet should run our country. Perhaps, I love them even more because I know their friendships are worth disagreeing on some fundamental issues.
Nevertheless, what would this whole election season be like if we didn't wear our political party hearts on our sleeves?
2. Elementary school went by in a hurry and before I knew it, I could vote. The fantasy became a reality and with that came a bitter taste adults get about a lot of things that had once seemed so sweet. Realistically, voting isn't what I thought it would be all those years ago. For one, I live in California, a state that is so blue, my itty bitty ballot has almost zero say in who gets elected. Then there are those annoying ads that play for months, "Yes on 30" "32 is bad" "Wait, someone thinks 32 is good!" The facts are so challenging to decipher that it's easier to play ignorant and change the channel to The Voice, where the voting seems a lot more personal. And while there is something sad about that, it's true.
Everyone, and I mean everyone seems to spend the days and weeks leading up to the election preaching, "I don't care which way you vote, but just do it." Their words seem to say, even though you're not on my side, make your voice heard.
Well, I'm taking a more controversial approach, "whatever you want to do: vote or not, do it." I don't disagree with voting and I do think it's a powerful right that many people will never know. But, the system is less than perfect and Americans are jaded.
If you've never voted, I would argue you might as well do it once and see how you feel about it. You can't say you hate brussel sprouts until you've put one in your mouth and spit it out (and if that happens, try them again with caramelized onions and bacon). But, if you have voted and you feel unsure about doing it again, or if you have no clue what any of those people stand for, you don't have to.
Because in America, we believe in freedom. As a member of the 50 states, you have the freedom to stay at home, watch the election coverage, and wonder if your fellow citizens helped to make a wise decision, even if you stayed out of it. Or, sit back and watch the final season of Jersey Shore. It's supposed to be epic...or something like that.
1. I think a person's voting selection is a lot less secretive than it was a generation or two ago. Many people are more than willing to share their picks for commander in chief and some go so far as to sport bumper stickers, facebook statuses and over priced t-shirts that let everyone know "hey, I like that guy!"
Even if you don't outwardly say who you vote for, people might be able to guess. Our clothes, hobbies, personal values and career choice often say a lot about what we like and who we stand for.And yet, I think I would like to live in a time when people had no idea who their neighbors, co-workers, kids or spouses were voting for. The conversations leading up to the election are always heated, and sometimes stimulating. And maybe without knowledge of who someone votes for we would have less of that.
I can proudly say that two of my bffs are republicans and we some how find a way to love each other just as much as if we all agreed on what puppet should run our country. Perhaps, I love them even more because I know their friendships are worth disagreeing on some fundamental issues.
Nevertheless, what would this whole election season be like if we didn't wear our political party hearts on our sleeves?
2. Elementary school went by in a hurry and before I knew it, I could vote. The fantasy became a reality and with that came a bitter taste adults get about a lot of things that had once seemed so sweet. Realistically, voting isn't what I thought it would be all those years ago. For one, I live in California, a state that is so blue, my itty bitty ballot has almost zero say in who gets elected. Then there are those annoying ads that play for months, "Yes on 30" "32 is bad" "Wait, someone thinks 32 is good!" The facts are so challenging to decipher that it's easier to play ignorant and change the channel to The Voice, where the voting seems a lot more personal. And while there is something sad about that, it's true.
Everyone, and I mean everyone seems to spend the days and weeks leading up to the election preaching, "I don't care which way you vote, but just do it." Their words seem to say, even though you're not on my side, make your voice heard.
Well, I'm taking a more controversial approach, "whatever you want to do: vote or not, do it." I don't disagree with voting and I do think it's a powerful right that many people will never know. But, the system is less than perfect and Americans are jaded.
If you've never voted, I would argue you might as well do it once and see how you feel about it. You can't say you hate brussel sprouts until you've put one in your mouth and spit it out (and if that happens, try them again with caramelized onions and bacon). But, if you have voted and you feel unsure about doing it again, or if you have no clue what any of those people stand for, you don't have to.
Because in America, we believe in freedom. As a member of the 50 states, you have the freedom to stay at home, watch the election coverage, and wonder if your fellow citizens helped to make a wise decision, even if you stayed out of it. Or, sit back and watch the final season of Jersey Shore. It's supposed to be epic...or something like that.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Happy Monday: Upcycling
In case you're wondering (and you should be) upcycling is not cycling uphill. If you need more confirmation on that, speak to Lance Armstrong. He could probably give you a tip on performance enhancing drugs, too.
Upcycling is the act of not only recycling something, but re-using it to make something more useful/beautiful/creative than it would be if the materials were broken down and simply recycled.
Recycling is so 2010.
Here is an example of upcycling: http://www.etsy.com/listing/111535173/peets-coffee-french-roast-purse?utm_source=googleproduct&utm_medium=syndication&utm_campaign=GPS&gclid=CNq3gbOjp7MCFQtxQgod9yEAbw
My mom bought me a bag similar to this, because she knows I am her planet Earth loving child, and I now use it to hold all my make-up, which is double good because the bag is easy to clean when I inevitably spill eyeshadow, foundation, or lip gloss inside the bag. (Me=problem child)
An even cooler example of upcycling is this chair. A friend of mine referenced me the link and I'm obsessed with how unique this chair is. That is cardboard...cardboard, people! Sheer brilliance.
I would like to say now that there is NO way I could ever make this chair. If you watch the video, you can tell that this guy knows a thing or two about physics and engineering- two things I know nothing about. I could, however, sit in the chair and help someone work through their feelings about upcycling, but that's about it.
In any case, one of the coolest things about the planet is that it's filled with a myriad of people and creativity that one never thought possible. Keep the planet going by supporting this cool chair, and other upcycling projects like it.
Happy Monday.
Upcycling is the act of not only recycling something, but re-using it to make something more useful/beautiful/creative than it would be if the materials were broken down and simply recycled.
Recycling is so 2010.
Here is an example of upcycling: http://www.etsy.com/listing/111535173/peets-coffee-french-roast-purse?utm_source=googleproduct&utm_medium=syndication&utm_campaign=GPS&gclid=CNq3gbOjp7MCFQtxQgod9yEAbw
My mom bought me a bag similar to this, because she knows I am her planet Earth loving child, and I now use it to hold all my make-up, which is double good because the bag is easy to clean when I inevitably spill eyeshadow, foundation, or lip gloss inside the bag. (Me=problem child)
An even cooler example of upcycling is this chair. A friend of mine referenced me the link and I'm obsessed with how unique this chair is. That is cardboard...cardboard, people! Sheer brilliance.
I would like to say now that there is NO way I could ever make this chair. If you watch the video, you can tell that this guy knows a thing or two about physics and engineering- two things I know nothing about. I could, however, sit in the chair and help someone work through their feelings about upcycling, but that's about it.
In any case, one of the coolest things about the planet is that it's filled with a myriad of people and creativity that one never thought possible. Keep the planet going by supporting this cool chair, and other upcycling projects like it.
Happy Monday.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Nailed it.
I know that there are super important things going on in the world right now:
snowy hurricanes
presidential election
gas prices
halloween costume dilemmas
Should we discuss something from that list?
Eh. Maybe later. Instead...
Go Giants! AND Happy (unbelated) Halloween.
I'm in crazy money saving mode this semester. The kind of money saving mode where a manicure or pedicure becomes a want and not a "but I really neeeed one. Have you seen my cuticles?!" kind of need.
So, I got creative and did my own nails. I spent $1.54 on this rad orange nail polish. I had the black crackle, base coat and top coat in my ecclectic polish supply at home.
Doing one rogue nail is on trend right now and being that I never graduated from 8th grade, I must do what is trendy. Plus, crackle nail polish has an annoying, gummy consistency and it actually worked to my patience's advantage to do one nail.
P.S. I am drinking green tea in this pic (green tea=happiness) and Pioneer Woman's cooking show is on in the background. She was making a peanut butter oreo cream pie, if you really want to get into what's important.
snowy hurricanes
presidential election
gas prices
halloween costume dilemmas
Should we discuss something from that list?
Eh. Maybe later. Instead...
Go Giants! AND Happy (unbelated) Halloween.
I'm in crazy money saving mode this semester. The kind of money saving mode where a manicure or pedicure becomes a want and not a "but I really neeeed one. Have you seen my cuticles?!" kind of need.
So, I got creative and did my own nails. I spent $1.54 on this rad orange nail polish. I had the black crackle, base coat and top coat in my ecclectic polish supply at home.
Doing one rogue nail is on trend right now and being that I never graduated from 8th grade, I must do what is trendy. Plus, crackle nail polish has an annoying, gummy consistency and it actually worked to my patience's advantage to do one nail.
P.S. I am drinking green tea in this pic (green tea=happiness) and Pioneer Woman's cooking show is on in the background. She was making a peanut butter oreo cream pie, if you really want to get into what's important.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Happy MOnday: Little MOments
I left my finger on the shift button too long when I typed two of the words in the title of this post. Since both the words started with "M", both the mistaken capital "O"s, and because I am a little bit rebellious/a little bit OCD, I decided to leave it.
That's called being different.
I heard this song on the radio today, after about 3 years of not hearing it. Some times the radio can make me so mad. But, you already know that, as I complained about it's repetitive, "stab me in the eyeball" nature, a couple blogs ago.
In any case, some times the radio redeems itself. It certainly did today and I thought I'd share the tune that made me feel that way.
The song itself is sweet, and the video is even more cute, plus a little funny. It's cunny, if you will.
Enjoy, and happy Monday.
"Little Moments"
That's called being different.
I heard this song on the radio today, after about 3 years of not hearing it. Some times the radio can make me so mad. But, you already know that, as I complained about it's repetitive, "stab me in the eyeball" nature, a couple blogs ago.
In any case, some times the radio redeems itself. It certainly did today and I thought I'd share the tune that made me feel that way.
The song itself is sweet, and the video is even more cute, plus a little funny. It's cunny, if you will.
Enjoy, and happy Monday.
"Little Moments"
Monday, October 8, 2012
Happy Monday: LDR
Long Distance Relationships are not a big dose of happy.
But, Caitlyn making a video about them?
A big plate of happy. With a side of funny, and hilarious al a mode for dessert.
HERE is my talented, tall, crazy and strong (strong because she's weathering through an LDR, not because she can lift a school bus over her head...maybe she can do that, too?) friend, doing what she does best.
Happy Monday.
But, Caitlyn making a video about them?
A big plate of happy. With a side of funny, and hilarious al a mode for dessert.
HERE is my talented, tall, crazy and strong (strong because she's weathering through an LDR, not because she can lift a school bus over her head...maybe she can do that, too?) friend, doing what she does best.
Happy Monday.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Music: What I'm digging right this second
Raise your hand if the radio gets on your nerves (every single person's hand in the air).
The commercials, the djs, the Katy Perry on EVERY station EVERY minute of the day. Maybe Amanda Bynes got in so many car wrecks because every time a Katy Perry song came on she had a (legit) mental breakdown.
When I lived in Portland, (how do I always bring it back to this?) there were two killer radio station that delivered sweet tunes any time mainstream music made my ears bleed. I never thought I'd find a similar radio station in Sac, but a couple years ago, I happened upon 94.7, which classifies itself as alternative, which basically means they would rather die than play Usher, Carrie Underwood or Justin Bieber... NOT that I'm dissing JB, but sometimes, a girl needs a break from a 9 yr old with a perfectly quaffed do.
I love this station- no djs, and although they have commercials, they mix in 60 second commercial breaks with the regular sized ones.
I'm currently digging a bunch of songs that I discovered on 94.7, so I thought I'd share two of them with you.
Take a listen AND let me know what you think AND AND, feel free to add comments with what you're currently rocking out to.
Muse: Madness
Mumford and Sons: I Will Wait
The commercials, the djs, the Katy Perry on EVERY station EVERY minute of the day. Maybe Amanda Bynes got in so many car wrecks because every time a Katy Perry song came on she had a (legit) mental breakdown.
When I lived in Portland, (how do I always bring it back to this?) there were two killer radio station that delivered sweet tunes any time mainstream music made my ears bleed. I never thought I'd find a similar radio station in Sac, but a couple years ago, I happened upon 94.7, which classifies itself as alternative, which basically means they would rather die than play Usher, Carrie Underwood or Justin Bieber... NOT that I'm dissing JB, but sometimes, a girl needs a break from a 9 yr old with a perfectly quaffed do.
I love this station- no djs, and although they have commercials, they mix in 60 second commercial breaks with the regular sized ones.
I'm currently digging a bunch of songs that I discovered on 94.7, so I thought I'd share two of them with you.
Take a listen AND let me know what you think AND AND, feel free to add comments with what you're currently rocking out to.
Muse: Madness
Mumford and Sons: I Will Wait
Monday, October 1, 2012
Happy Monday: Say Cheese
Whatever you're going through on this hot, October Monday. (Seriously, can we PLEASE move on from summer??!!)
I would like to bet all the money in my purse, aka 37 cents and one piece of gum, that you are having a less terrifying day than the ladies in this picture.
I'm not sure which face I enjoy more. Lady on the left, "this cannot be happening- I'm not even wearing my cute bikini. " Lady in the middle, "I was DEFINITELY supposed to be married before I was attacked by a sting ray." Lady on the right, "If these idiots would stop screaming, we might actually get to the bars tonight!"
Perhaps it's the sting ray, "Ooooh yeeaaaah."
Happy Monday.
Photo from http://www.peoplepets.com/people/pets/article/0,,20634003,00.html
I would like to bet all the money in my purse, aka 37 cents and one piece of gum, that you are having a less terrifying day than the ladies in this picture.
Perhaps it's the sting ray, "Ooooh yeeaaaah."
Happy Monday.
Photo from http://www.peoplepets.com/people/pets/article/0,,20634003,00.html
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Happy Hump Day
I ran out of time to make a "Happy Monday" post the other day.
Instead, I'll leave you with a Happy Hump Day post. If you don't laugh, or smile, or find this funny, or even run out and tell your bf/spouse that you want to have kids RIGHT NOW, then I don't think you are a human.
Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8iOQ9zWP6A&safe=active&safety_mode=true&persist_safety_mode=1
P.S. Thanks to Adrian for originally showing me this youtube delight.
Instead, I'll leave you with a Happy Hump Day post. If you don't laugh, or smile, or find this funny, or even run out and tell your bf/spouse that you want to have kids RIGHT NOW, then I don't think you are a human.
Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8iOQ9zWP6A&safe=active&safety_mode=true&persist_safety_mode=1
P.S. Thanks to Adrian for originally showing me this youtube delight.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Happy Monday
Do people ever say, "Happy Monday!" to you?
Do I ever say, "Happy Monday!" to you?
Saying "Happy Monday" is like smiling when you actually feel like punching a giant pillow until there is nothing left but a room full of feathers. It's a way to make yourself believe "it's all good" when Mondays are usually anything but that.
So, here's a new trend:
A Happy Monday blog post. Something to make your Monday a little happier, a little funnier, a little cuter, or just a little less like a Monday.
Enjoy.
Do I ever say, "Happy Monday!" to you?
Saying "Happy Monday" is like smiling when you actually feel like punching a giant pillow until there is nothing left but a room full of feathers. It's a way to make yourself believe "it's all good" when Mondays are usually anything but that.
So, here's a new trend:
A Happy Monday blog post. Something to make your Monday a little happier, a little funnier, a little cuter, or just a little less like a Monday.
Enjoy.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
When Your Body Betrays You
I am one of those idiots who thinks that studying in a coffee shop is a great, brilliant idea.
Studying in a coffee shop IS better than studying at home, for these reasons:
1. Home has a tv with such pleasures as Lifetime movies and reruns of Friends.
2. At home there are dirty dishes, unswept floors and laundry, all vying for my attention.
3. My home has a teeny tiny room I like to call the office/guest room/closet/"throw all our crap in here and close the curtain" room: The title is bigger than the space. Doing homework at the desk in there only makes me want to leave and find more fun things to do, like tell the boyfriend 97,856 "I forgot to tell you..." stories that are really just excuses for human contact and escape from the land of "get stuff done".
So, with all these reasons in my arsenal, I head to coffee shops. Any coffee shop. As long as it's characteristics are equal or greater than:
1. a place with free wifi (free being, "hey you gotta buy something from us. We don't except jerks who want to mooch our free internet. P.S. We charge $17.83 for a cup of coffee.")
2. airconditioning
3. Music: not too loud, or too quiet, or too jazzy
4. People
5. Tables with wall plug-ins. Spending 10 minutes messing around on the internet before and after I finish every assignment (or every first sentence of every assignment) uses a lot of battery.
Now, you might say that those reasons seem ridiculous. You might say I am procrastinating even more by lugging myself and my 500 ton backpack to a coffee shop. And perhaps, I am, but anyone who has ever been in school (all people, raise your hands) knows that studying at home is just not fun and sometimes you need a little motivation.
And sometimes, you reeeeeaaaaaaaaally need to get stuff done. I mean REALLY get stuff done. Like, "my mom is coming into town and my house actually has to be clean", get stuff done. Today I didn't stay at home to study. I didn't go to a coffee shop to knock out the 5 assignments I had to write, I went to the library.
The library combines all the good things one needs to study and has none of the big, unproductive fireworks distractors that no one needs.
It has an extremely loud quietness. So quiet, that when I felt myself need to sneeze, I tried to get rid of it because I was embarrased by how loud it would sound. Then even after I did sneeze, I felt my face turning a little pink, because "jeez, what's more embarrasing than sneezing while everyone around you is avoiding noise?"
The answer? (yeah there's really answer to that question):
Farting.
And that's what the guy at a table next to me did.
A loud, unpretentious fart.
And I did what any good human would do. I kept doing exactly what I was doing.
I didn't turn around, I didn't look at him, I ignored his apology, and I typed away on my computer, even though I was just typing ghkwrbzysuskdp. I was so distracted by the fart that I couldn't actually get back to typing what I needed to type, but I didn't want him to think I was dwelling on what he was dwelling on, which is what you all would have been dwelling on...
"I can't believe he just did that."
Next Saturday, I plan to go to a coffee shop.
Studying in a coffee shop IS better than studying at home, for these reasons:
1. Home has a tv with such pleasures as Lifetime movies and reruns of Friends.
2. At home there are dirty dishes, unswept floors and laundry, all vying for my attention.
3. My home has a teeny tiny room I like to call the office/guest room/closet/"throw all our crap in here and close the curtain" room: The title is bigger than the space. Doing homework at the desk in there only makes me want to leave and find more fun things to do, like tell the boyfriend 97,856 "I forgot to tell you..." stories that are really just excuses for human contact and escape from the land of "get stuff done".
So, with all these reasons in my arsenal, I head to coffee shops. Any coffee shop. As long as it's characteristics are equal or greater than:
1. a place with free wifi (free being, "hey you gotta buy something from us. We don't except jerks who want to mooch our free internet. P.S. We charge $17.83 for a cup of coffee.")
2. airconditioning
3. Music: not too loud, or too quiet, or too jazzy
4. People
5. Tables with wall plug-ins. Spending 10 minutes messing around on the internet before and after I finish every assignment (or every first sentence of every assignment) uses a lot of battery.
Now, you might say that those reasons seem ridiculous. You might say I am procrastinating even more by lugging myself and my 500 ton backpack to a coffee shop. And perhaps, I am, but anyone who has ever been in school (all people, raise your hands) knows that studying at home is just not fun and sometimes you need a little motivation.
And sometimes, you reeeeeaaaaaaaaally need to get stuff done. I mean REALLY get stuff done. Like, "my mom is coming into town and my house actually has to be clean", get stuff done. Today I didn't stay at home to study. I didn't go to a coffee shop to knock out the 5 assignments I had to write, I went to the library.
The library combines all the good things one needs to study and has none of the big, unproductive fireworks distractors that no one needs.
It has an extremely loud quietness. So quiet, that when I felt myself need to sneeze, I tried to get rid of it because I was embarrased by how loud it would sound. Then even after I did sneeze, I felt my face turning a little pink, because "jeez, what's more embarrasing than sneezing while everyone around you is avoiding noise?"
The answer? (yeah there's really answer to that question):
Farting.
And that's what the guy at a table next to me did.
A loud, unpretentious fart.
And I did what any good human would do. I kept doing exactly what I was doing.
I didn't turn around, I didn't look at him, I ignored his apology, and I typed away on my computer, even though I was just typing ghkwrbzysuskdp. I was so distracted by the fart that I couldn't actually get back to typing what I needed to type, but I didn't want him to think I was dwelling on what he was dwelling on, which is what you all would have been dwelling on...
"I can't believe he just did that."
Next Saturday, I plan to go to a coffee shop.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Operation Finish Line
Haven't written in awhile...not surprising, I know. But, I am currently home alone, watching early episodes of Friends, while I take a break from never ending homework (it piles up faster than laundry!). Now seems like a good time to scribble on the blog again.
98 days until I am no longer a prisoner of Sac State.
Wait, let me say that a little nicer.
13.5 weeks until I am no longer a prisoner of Sac State.
I hate to have to say it like that. I mean, can you really understand what a nightmare this school is just from a few typed cyber words?
I'm so dramatic. I'm also so honest. I'm dronest, if you will.
But here's the thing, I'm almost done!!!!!!! AND, I'm still so sure that I made the right choice. Despite the fact that I've paid a good chunk of change to go there. Regardless of how lazy the school has been. Even though the department treats students like they are mindless cattle, I'm so glad I did this.
And so, as I count days of my calendar, I'm trying to remind myself that this literally may be the last time I am ever in school.
SAD.
I looooove school. School loves me. It's a pretty harmonious relationship. So, I can complain as much as I want about the ways I have been wronged, but I know I will still miss this when I no longer have to drive 25 miles to Sac State, or pay 6 bucks for parking (wondering if I can even get a parking spot). I may be happy to leave classes with professors who checked out 5 years ago and require $175 textbooks that I never bother to read, but school, as with anything, is more that it's inconvenient bits. I know I'm lucky to even have a Masters degree. I've spent three years with people who challenge me, make me laugh and teach me what it means to be a great counselor. I have professors who make me think (!) and feed my love for learning.
I'm running to the finish line, sprinting is probably more accurate. Soon I will be tired, my feet will hurt and I will want nothing more than to just get it over with. Slow down, Sista Sledge! The journey is worth more than the ending.
98 days until I am no longer a prisoner of Sac State.
Wait, let me say that a little nicer.
13.5 weeks until I am no longer a prisoner of Sac State.
I hate to have to say it like that. I mean, can you really understand what a nightmare this school is just from a few typed cyber words?
I'm so dramatic. I'm also so honest. I'm dronest, if you will.
But here's the thing, I'm almost done!!!!!!! AND, I'm still so sure that I made the right choice. Despite the fact that I've paid a good chunk of change to go there. Regardless of how lazy the school has been. Even though the department treats students like they are mindless cattle, I'm so glad I did this.
And so, as I count days of my calendar, I'm trying to remind myself that this literally may be the last time I am ever in school.
SAD.
I looooove school. School loves me. It's a pretty harmonious relationship. So, I can complain as much as I want about the ways I have been wronged, but I know I will still miss this when I no longer have to drive 25 miles to Sac State, or pay 6 bucks for parking (wondering if I can even get a parking spot). I may be happy to leave classes with professors who checked out 5 years ago and require $175 textbooks that I never bother to read, but school, as with anything, is more that it's inconvenient bits. I know I'm lucky to even have a Masters degree. I've spent three years with people who challenge me, make me laugh and teach me what it means to be a great counselor. I have professors who make me think (!) and feed my love for learning.
I'm running to the finish line, sprinting is probably more accurate. Soon I will be tired, my feet will hurt and I will want nothing more than to just get it over with. Slow down, Sista Sledge! The journey is worth more than the ending.
Monday, August 6, 2012
In Session: Internal Power
I'm gonna try and get a little series started on here called "In Session".
As a Counselor in Training, I'm constantly learning about new ways to help my clients (and myself!) become the best versions of themselves. Although I can't share what happens in my sessions, I can share some of the powerful tools I'm adding to my mental health toolbox.
Today's post will be short, but in the future, I'm planning to cover some major stumbling blocks, strategies, and "aha!" moments that can help move people to new and wonderful changes.
Sometimes we just need a little something to latch onto. If life isn't going all, mashed potatoes and gravy, it can be imperative to have something as simple as, a little sunshine, a fab song on the radio or some kudos at work. Yet, the universe doesn't always listen to our cries for help and desperate pleas; "I promise to have a good day, be nice to everyone, not roll my eyes or curse out the idiots on the freeway, if you make something good happen today!!!"
Here are some words to remember:
Everything you need, is already within you.
Don't be shocked at how elementary that statement is. I swear counselors get paid for more than just saying Yoda type things like that.
But, think about it.
Everything you need, is already within you.
Are you angry?
You already have tools to change your attitude.
Did someone hurt your feelings?
You have the power to work on the relationship
Do you hate your job?
You have the resources to decide if you need to talk to your boss, or get the heck out (!)
Money, a boyfriend, losing 10 pounds, getting recognition from someone, a new house- there are all pretty cool, but they won't make you happy all by themselves. Life gets in the way somewhere between a raise and kicking butt in spinning class. And when it does, you have everything you need to deal, fix and get better.
Session Over. This one's on the house.
As a Counselor in Training, I'm constantly learning about new ways to help my clients (and myself!) become the best versions of themselves. Although I can't share what happens in my sessions, I can share some of the powerful tools I'm adding to my mental health toolbox.
Today's post will be short, but in the future, I'm planning to cover some major stumbling blocks, strategies, and "aha!" moments that can help move people to new and wonderful changes.
Sometimes we just need a little something to latch onto. If life isn't going all, mashed potatoes and gravy, it can be imperative to have something as simple as, a little sunshine, a fab song on the radio or some kudos at work. Yet, the universe doesn't always listen to our cries for help and desperate pleas; "I promise to have a good day, be nice to everyone, not roll my eyes or curse out the idiots on the freeway, if you make something good happen today!!!"
Here are some words to remember:
Everything you need, is already within you.
Don't be shocked at how elementary that statement is. I swear counselors get paid for more than just saying Yoda type things like that.
But, think about it.
Everything you need, is already within you.
Are you angry?
You already have tools to change your attitude.
Did someone hurt your feelings?
You have the power to work on the relationship
Do you hate your job?
You have the resources to decide if you need to talk to your boss, or get the heck out (!)
Money, a boyfriend, losing 10 pounds, getting recognition from someone, a new house- there are all pretty cool, but they won't make you happy all by themselves. Life gets in the way somewhere between a raise and kicking butt in spinning class. And when it does, you have everything you need to deal, fix and get better.
Session Over. This one's on the house.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Be careful where you put that.
The weekend is almost over and I can't even be too sad about it because of how much relaxing I did. I was basically the queen of relaxing. I don't think I've slept this much since the days of college and, "I have studying to do, but napping sounds better!" And "class is in 25 minutes? I guess that means I have time for a 23 minute nap."
In between all the sleeping I did, some grad school friends and I went here for lunch. Seriously yum. I had a salad that sat atop a deliciously chewy, crunchy, heavenly pizza crust. Sounds like a pretty smart salad; If I was a salad, I would want to cuddle with a pizza crust.
I also managed to find time to finally try out some free samples I scored from Sephora last week. I scored this and this and this. All of which were delightful. Especially when you apply them to their intended areas.
I can follow directions, I swear. Yet somehow, I managed to land myself in a Sephora sample mishap. I blame my over excitement for (FREE!) products and the Olympics, for constantly being on tv and distracting me from common sense.
In any case, I took my "Kate Somerville exfoliator sample" into the shower, let the warm water run all of me, which sent me into a bliss that can only be achieved when your shower has no limit because you have nothing of consequence waiting for you once you emerge from said euphoria.
I opened the little pot of "exfoliator" and felt imediately suprised by it's smooth, clay like texture. It also seemed remarkabley similar to peanut butter. (This is the part in a movie when the audience is yelling, "WHAT are you doing?! Go back down the stairs!")
I didn't have any stairs to climb back down so settled on, "Hmmm, this must not be an exfoliator like the annoying make-up artist said. A face mask perhaps?" I dug my index finger into the sample and did not think twice about the ample amount of "clay" I put on my face. I rubbed it in gently, like I was giving myself a facial. "Weird. The water makes it all hard and thick. Maybe it needs to sit on my face for a minute?" 15 seconds later..."this is kinda burning my face, definitely cannot rub this off...why is this not coming off?! Why is there expensive face glue on my skin?!"
I hurridley screamed for the bf to "help, can you come here for a sec?!" To which he promptly put down his Pokemon game (that is something I shall save for another post) and quickly retrieved my normal/trustworthy exfoliator, which worked like sandpaper on my tortured face. My relaxing shower had turned stressful, so I quickly got out, anxious to investigate what I'd rubbed into my already sensitive skin.
As I read the little baggie and saw, Eye shadow primer, I wondered how realistic it was that I got it all off my face when it's only job is to outlast water, sweat, tears and idiots who apply it all over their faces like war paint.
I decided not to wear any make up that day, I think my face was grateful. I wore some today. It sure lasted all day long.
In between all the sleeping I did, some grad school friends and I went here for lunch. Seriously yum. I had a salad that sat atop a deliciously chewy, crunchy, heavenly pizza crust. Sounds like a pretty smart salad; If I was a salad, I would want to cuddle with a pizza crust.
I also managed to find time to finally try out some free samples I scored from Sephora last week. I scored this and this and this. All of which were delightful. Especially when you apply them to their intended areas.
I can follow directions, I swear. Yet somehow, I managed to land myself in a Sephora sample mishap. I blame my over excitement for (FREE!) products and the Olympics, for constantly being on tv and distracting me from common sense.
In any case, I took my "Kate Somerville exfoliator sample" into the shower, let the warm water run all of me, which sent me into a bliss that can only be achieved when your shower has no limit because you have nothing of consequence waiting for you once you emerge from said euphoria.
I opened the little pot of "exfoliator" and felt imediately suprised by it's smooth, clay like texture. It also seemed remarkabley similar to peanut butter. (This is the part in a movie when the audience is yelling, "WHAT are you doing?! Go back down the stairs!")
I didn't have any stairs to climb back down so settled on, "Hmmm, this must not be an exfoliator like the annoying make-up artist said. A face mask perhaps?" I dug my index finger into the sample and did not think twice about the ample amount of "clay" I put on my face. I rubbed it in gently, like I was giving myself a facial. "Weird. The water makes it all hard and thick. Maybe it needs to sit on my face for a minute?" 15 seconds later..."this is kinda burning my face, definitely cannot rub this off...why is this not coming off?! Why is there expensive face glue on my skin?!"
I hurridley screamed for the bf to "help, can you come here for a sec?!" To which he promptly put down his Pokemon game (that is something I shall save for another post) and quickly retrieved my normal/trustworthy exfoliator, which worked like sandpaper on my tortured face. My relaxing shower had turned stressful, so I quickly got out, anxious to investigate what I'd rubbed into my already sensitive skin.
As I read the little baggie and saw, Eye shadow primer, I wondered how realistic it was that I got it all off my face when it's only job is to outlast water, sweat, tears and idiots who apply it all over their faces like war paint.
I decided not to wear any make up that day, I think my face was grateful. I wore some today. It sure lasted all day long.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
The Olympics is cooler than football
This Olympics, I watched the opening ceremonies, and was among the few people who didn't ask what the heck England was thinking. It was clear they were not going to be able to do what Bejing dad, as they have far less people, and even less power to require citizens to participate/kill them if they refuse. The symbolism of the whole London ceremonies was really incredible, and if the Brits have taught me nothing else in their movies, music and literature, they have taught me to appreciate symbolism. Plus, I am obsessed with Harry Potter; a Harry Pothead, if you will. A Voldemort recreation and J.K., in the flesh, made an appearance, so I couldn't have been much happier. Although, I did utter, "Where is HARRY POTTER???!!!", at least a dozen times.
Since the opening ceremonies, I've recorded every evening of coverage, and much of the day coverage to watch while the work babies snooze. I haven't checked any of the spoilers online, so I can capture those feelings of excitement, anxiety and joy, when I watch the events late at night. And most definitely, I am tickled that a few alum from my little college are in the Olympics and kicking butt!
The other night, as I was glued to the tv, the boyfriend mentioned that some sports writer couldn't believe that his wife complained about sports all the time, and when the Olympics came on, she followed the Olympics as hard as the paparazzi follows Alec Baldwin. I paused whatever event I was watching (I didn't want to miss anything!) and laughed at the irony. I also realized that the bf was on some level asking me why I'm the same way.
There have already been dozens of football season commercials and let's just say I am less than thrilled about it's imminent approach. Do we really need THAT much football??? We get Saturday college, Sunday aaaalllll day, Monday nights and some "surprise" Thursdays. I don't know if you're aware, but that's over half the week. Thank goodness my lest semester of school will be underway and I will potentially have one billion pages of reading to keep me from noticing that men in tight pants crashing into each other is constantly monopolizing my tv.
But seriously, why is that a problem for me?
I don't do nearly as much complaining during basketball season (more exciting), but I'm still tired of it come April. Then there's soccer. Don't get me started on how hard I find it to watch that. I went to a famous soccer school and I think, I might have gone to one game: one. It's usually in a different language, the field is so large and the camera so far away that I can barely see anyone and comment on things like, he's got good hair or hmm, good thing he plays soccer and isn't a model or ooooh, there uniforms are fab! These are truly the important aspects of sports, p.s. Baseball isn't a huge issue because the bf isn't after the American pasttime's heart, like he is football's. Still, I have no desire to turn on a baseball game every day. But the Olympics...bring it on.
I've pondered this intriguing debacle for a few days and here's what I've deduced.
1. The Olympics only comes every four years and stays for about 3 weeks. Think about that. All other sports come every year, for several months. That would be like if you has a mother in law that you only sorta liked and she came to visit every year for 2+ months at a time, OR she came every four years for 3 weeks- she's your bff now, huh?
2. The Olympic news writers have a way of toying with my emotions- highlighting athletes who've had more struggles than Ke$ha's career, thus making me feel for the person and wanting him or her to win, regardless of the country. Plus, they show moms and dads who've spent the past 15-20 years sacrificing money, time and sanity, just to help their kids win that shiny piece of gold.
3. Have you watched gymnastics?! It's about the coolest thing ever. I'm so fascinated by these tiny women, who age out of their dream by 20 and have spent years doing flips on a thin piece of beam, flying from one bar to a next and doing the craziest amount of perfection on the vault. It's just cool. Plus, there's the moment in 1996. That's why I love the Olympics. That, and Kerri Strugg's sweet hairdo.
4. The excitement of watching the Olympics take place in a new city each time is fun. And also troubling, because my "where I wanna go" list keeps getting longer and longer.
5. Diving. It's almost as cool as the gymnastics. Especially if you're me and just jumping in a pool seems scary. My stomach would leap out of my face if I had to be an Olympic diver.
6. I thoroughly enjoy the announcers. They are super into whatever event they're commentating and some of their reactions are down right hilarious. Speaking of reactions, did you catch a glimpse of Aly Raisman's parents? They have got to win a medal for "Most Supportive".
7. The reality tv worthy conversations that take place in my house during the Olympics. "Did you see that swimmer's shoulders? She's gotta be a man, right?"
"Did someone really name their kid after a tree?"
"Let's start training for the Olympics right now! What are we not too tall, old or imcompetent to do?" "How many girls do you think Ryan Lochte slept with?" "16" "No, I meant at this Olympics." "16."
8. Misty May Trainer and Kerry Walsh: BAMFS. (Regardless of Austria killing their perfect record)
9. This one is not necessarily why I love the Olmpics but it had to make the list for highest entertainment value: Ryan Seacrest. Ryan Seacrest was hired for some of the Olympic coverage. Seriously. I'm not sure why we needed him. Did the head honchos sit around and say, "there is only one man who knows the Olympics well enough to interview people. That's Ryan." or, did Ryan approach NBC and say, "Hey, I've got about 3 days off and I need something to do. Can I help cover the Olympics and then pay some of them to say Keeping Up with the Kardashians is their favorite show?"
10. The men and women are fun to watch. I think about 234 people watch the WNBA. Very few professional female sports get the attention their male counterparts do. But, the Olympics manages to transcend average issues for sports fans and gets millions of people to appreciate both genders and their incredible athletic skills.
11. Unlike other sports. the Olympics is not boring. They're constantly showing a new event, which means I know the yawn inducing cycling will be over soon rather than later. Put the Ritalin away, people. The Olympics knows how to keep your attention.
12. The Olympics is not football. <------- best reason of all.
Unfortunately, basketball is in the Olympics. For real?! First of all, what about basketball makes it a summer sport? The NBA season ends right when summer begins and it's played indoors, even in the Olympics. All the athletes wear shorts and tank tops, does that make it summer-y?
The USA basketball team is basically the usual NBA egos, all smooshed together into one team. As if all these superstars don't get enough attention, we send them to London to win gold medals. Well, I see enough of Kobe Bryant all year long and watching basketball players from other countries ask for his autograph, is just more than I can handle.
Are you watching the Olympics this year, what's your favorite event?
My sisters and I used to pretend we were gymnats, while we were supposed to be doing dishes. We'd do some leap in the air, spin in a circle, and pretend to do a soumersalt-pike-twist before jumping, and sticking our "landing" and winning gold for our team. Then we'd hear mom say, "I dont hear the water running..." and we were back to reality. Still, it's fun to pretend.
Did you ever have a silly dream of being an Olympian?
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Take the Stairs
Since I got back from the cruise, I've really been focused on working out and not eating everything around me just because it's there. A cruise is the greatest catalyst for this epiphany, or for getting one into the place where she needs this epiphany.
Some days I just don't have time to go to the gym or it's just too bloody hot to run outside. (Apparently I think I'm from London. Although, if I was from London, it wouldn't be too bloody hot to run) Today, I work from 7-5 and then have a 20-30 club meeting until around 11 pm. Yes, you read that correctly. If I was more insane, I would have worked-out before work, or when I get home at 11.
Fortunately or unfortunately, I'm only slightly insane.
A perk of my job is that little kids take naps. Another perk is that little kids take naps in their houses, sometimes with stairs. So, on some days where I know I can't fit in gym time or a run, I take advantage of the 16 carpet covered stairs that bridge the first floor play zone/war zone to the nap/amazingly quiet zone.
If you're interested, and you have a set of stairs you can borrow, check it out.
Sometimes I just don't have the energy to work out, and am grateful to cut this work out in half, which seems pathetic, but you know how that goes. The ability to burn calories for an hour one day, and barely get through 10 minutes the next, is one of life's greatest mysteries.
Another great mystery? Why I have songs like "Slow Motion" by Juvenile, on my itunes. Yet, I do, and I listened to it today when I did this work-out.
Last note, I do not use a watch timer for these intervals because I didn't have one on me: I just picked songs whose times matched up/skipped the song to the appropriate time so I knew when to stop. That also provides a quick little break between intervals, woo hoo!
Stop staring at the Stairs: A work-out
Put on some good cardio shoes.
1. 4 minutes: Walk up and down stairs, moving arms back and forth. You should be tired, but no out of breath that you can't talk
2. 1 minute: Run up and down the stairs as fast as you can
3. 2 minutes: Walk briskly up and down the stairs while holding 3-5 free weights at a 90 degree angle above you. Each time you go up, raise one arm, return to starting position, then raise the other. Hold free weights at that starting position as you walk down.
4. 1 minute: Run up and down the stairs, skipping a step while you run up. You should be more out of breath here. To the point where it's hard to get the words "shit", "f this", and "kill me now"
5. Repeat steps 2-4 three or four more times, depending on how much you wanna puke.
6. 4 minutes: walk up and down the stairs- this is your cool down!
7. Drink some water, take a shower
P.S. I am not a trainer and this work-out was not designed by one. My belief is, if you sweat, your muscles burn and you're endorphines are happy, you must be doing something right. Unlike P90X, this work-out does not promise to make you look like Victoria Beckham.
Some days I just don't have time to go to the gym or it's just too bloody hot to run outside. (Apparently I think I'm from London. Although, if I was from London, it wouldn't be too bloody hot to run) Today, I work from 7-5 and then have a 20-30 club meeting until around 11 pm. Yes, you read that correctly. If I was more insane, I would have worked-out before work, or when I get home at 11.
Fortunately or unfortunately, I'm only slightly insane.
A perk of my job is that little kids take naps. Another perk is that little kids take naps in their houses, sometimes with stairs. So, on some days where I know I can't fit in gym time or a run, I take advantage of the 16 carpet covered stairs that bridge the first floor play zone/war zone to the nap/amazingly quiet zone.
If you're interested, and you have a set of stairs you can borrow, check it out.
Sometimes I just don't have the energy to work out, and am grateful to cut this work out in half, which seems pathetic, but you know how that goes. The ability to burn calories for an hour one day, and barely get through 10 minutes the next, is one of life's greatest mysteries.
Another great mystery? Why I have songs like "Slow Motion" by Juvenile, on my itunes. Yet, I do, and I listened to it today when I did this work-out.
Last note, I do not use a watch timer for these intervals because I didn't have one on me: I just picked songs whose times matched up/skipped the song to the appropriate time so I knew when to stop. That also provides a quick little break between intervals, woo hoo!
Stop staring at the Stairs: A work-out
Put on some good cardio shoes.
1. 4 minutes: Walk up and down stairs, moving arms back and forth. You should be tired, but no out of breath that you can't talk
2. 1 minute: Run up and down the stairs as fast as you can
3. 2 minutes: Walk briskly up and down the stairs while holding 3-5 free weights at a 90 degree angle above you. Each time you go up, raise one arm, return to starting position, then raise the other. Hold free weights at that starting position as you walk down.
4. 1 minute: Run up and down the stairs, skipping a step while you run up. You should be more out of breath here. To the point where it's hard to get the words "shit", "f this", and "kill me now"
5. Repeat steps 2-4 three or four more times, depending on how much you wanna puke.
6. 4 minutes: walk up and down the stairs- this is your cool down!
7. Drink some water, take a shower
P.S. I am not a trainer and this work-out was not designed by one. My belief is, if you sweat, your muscles burn and you're endorphines are happy, you must be doing something right. Unlike P90X, this work-out does not promise to make you look like Victoria Beckham.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Ballerinas and Kardashians
I have a confession to make.
I've never wanted to be a ballerina. But the bun, oh the bun.
I have another confession to make.
I don't want to be Kim Kardashian.
I don't need her ass (who really needs a body part that needs a separate seat on an airplane?) I definitely don't want any of her husbands, and I could go through my whole life without soliciting enough haters to end up with a pound of flour thrown at me.
But the bun, oh the bun!
The girl has style, which probably has nothing to do with her and everything to do with the people who are forced to work on her all the time.
Nevertheless, I pathetically researched "Kim Kardashian high bun"/ "Kim Kardashian chic bun" "Kim Kardashian DIY bun" "Kim Kardashian bun in the oven".
After watching a couple youtube videos, I found one that made the look super easy. Now I do it all the time and people on facebook seem to think I have magic hair.
Watch the vid, and read my tips below:
You really need to have...
1. long hair/extensions
2. A soft bristle hair brush
3. Hair spray/flyaway spray
4. BOBBYPINS!!!!
5. A hair tie
6. an old sock (a clean ome)
That last one may seem weird, but that's how you get the look, once you put your hair in a high ponytail, take an old sock, cut out the toe area, and roll it into it self, and place the new invention on your hair tie. That's when take your hair and bobby pin it around the socky thing. This is all explained way better in the video, but it really works. That sock do-dad really gives your bun the volume that you in no way get when you just wrap your hair around itself, curse repeatedly because your arms are tired, and end up hating every celebrity who can do a bun, thinking that they must have the world's thickest hair (they don't).
They just have fab stylists with tricks up their sleeves, and now you do, too!
It takes a little practice and sometimes it comes out better or worse and then I get frustrated and the bf says something like, "your hair always looks great" and I say "ugggh" and try again and remind myself that there are more important things in life than looking like a Kardashian.
I've never wanted to be a ballerina. But the bun, oh the bun.
I have another confession to make.
I don't want to be Kim Kardashian.
I don't need her ass (who really needs a body part that needs a separate seat on an airplane?) I definitely don't want any of her husbands, and I could go through my whole life without soliciting enough haters to end up with a pound of flour thrown at me.
But the bun, oh the bun!The girl has style, which probably has nothing to do with her and everything to do with the people who are forced to work on her all the time.
Nevertheless, I pathetically researched "Kim Kardashian high bun"/ "Kim Kardashian chic bun" "Kim Kardashian DIY bun" "
After watching a couple youtube videos, I found one that made the look super easy. Now I do it all the time and people on facebook seem to think I have magic hair.
Watch the vid, and read my tips below:
You really need to have...
1. long hair/extensions
2. A soft bristle hair brush
3. Hair spray/flyaway spray
4. BOBBYPINS!!!!
5. A hair tie
6. an old sock (a clean ome)
That last one may seem weird, but that's how you get the look, once you put your hair in a high ponytail, take an old sock, cut out the toe area, and roll it into it self, and place the new invention on your hair tie. That's when take your hair and bobby pin it around the socky thing. This is all explained way better in the video, but it really works. That sock do-dad really gives your bun the volume that you in no way get when you just wrap your hair around itself, curse repeatedly because your arms are tired, and end up hating every celebrity who can do a bun, thinking that they must have the world's thickest hair (they don't).
They just have fab stylists with tricks up their sleeves, and now you do, too!
It takes a little practice and sometimes it comes out better or worse and then I get frustrated and the bf says something like, "your hair always looks great" and I say "ugggh" and try again and remind myself that there are more important things in life than looking like a Kardashian.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Nooks and Crannies
For the past year I've lived in a tiny house, with no backyard or dishwasher, a good air conditioner and an even better location. I'm down the street from downtown, a Redbox, farmer's market, local coffee shop and most importantly, the library. The last fact I didn't realize until a few weeks ago, but I've taken advantage of the situation ever since. I forgot how much fun it is to borrow a book and not care if it's less than enjoyable because I didn't pay for it.
The library is small, but I've happened upon some awesome reads. One of which, a book of poetry, that randomly caught my eye, while I was searching for the fiction section (I blinked and accidentally walked past it). The book, How to be Perfect, reminded me of how fun poetry can be: I haven't read any since my Modern Poetry class in college.
ENG 400-something consisted of about 20 students and one liberal Jewish, jeans and blazer wearing professor- he just happened to have a red headed daughter named Allison. I'm not sure if that scored me extra points, but he certainly mentioned it a time or two. Not only did we read poetry, but we wrote it. Every week we would bring in our newly crafted poem, pass out copies to our eager classmates and sit around and talk about the writing of our peers. I'm sure I would be embarrassed if I re-read those poems, I feel there would be an intense air of naivety, especially compared to my classmates who wrote about sex, love, alcohol, disgust, oppression- most of which I had never experienced.
The class was hard, but the good kind of hard. The kind that made me want to try harder, even when I had no idea what I was trying to do. The professor was passionate about all things; poetry, education, family, writing, and everything in between. He is the kind of person that gets fired about things that no one else even notices: I remember he once spent 20 minutes describing how crazy it is that college is about freedom and choice yet we put so much stress on tests, grades and class times. (What an outrage!)
I fell in love with poetry and some time after the class was over, I forget I loved it. I continued my lifetime affair with novels, and poetry became the one night stand I rarely thought about. But standing there in the library last weekend, I picked up Padgett's book and it filled me with memories of how intricate and complicated and fun poetry is.
One poem in particularly rekindled the fire and so, I share it with you. Enjoy the genre of writing that allows us to take two minutes out of our day (no more needed) to think, question, and best of all, laugh.
Mortal Combat
You can't tell yourself not to think
of the English muffin because that's what
you just did, and now the idea
of the English muffin has moved
to your salivary glands and caused
a ruckus. But I am more powerful
than you, salivary glands, stronger
than you, idea, and able to leap
over you, thoughts that keep coming
like an invading army trying to pull
me away from who I am. I am
a squinty old fool stooped over
his keyboard having an anxiety attack
over an English muffin! And
that's the way I like it.
The library is small, but I've happened upon some awesome reads. One of which, a book of poetry, that randomly caught my eye, while I was searching for the fiction section (I blinked and accidentally walked past it). The book, How to be Perfect, reminded me of how fun poetry can be: I haven't read any since my Modern Poetry class in college.
ENG 400-something consisted of about 20 students and one liberal Jewish, jeans and blazer wearing professor- he just happened to have a red headed daughter named Allison. I'm not sure if that scored me extra points, but he certainly mentioned it a time or two. Not only did we read poetry, but we wrote it. Every week we would bring in our newly crafted poem, pass out copies to our eager classmates and sit around and talk about the writing of our peers. I'm sure I would be embarrassed if I re-read those poems, I feel there would be an intense air of naivety, especially compared to my classmates who wrote about sex, love, alcohol, disgust, oppression- most of which I had never experienced.
The class was hard, but the good kind of hard. The kind that made me want to try harder, even when I had no idea what I was trying to do. The professor was passionate about all things; poetry, education, family, writing, and everything in between. He is the kind of person that gets fired about things that no one else even notices: I remember he once spent 20 minutes describing how crazy it is that college is about freedom and choice yet we put so much stress on tests, grades and class times. (What an outrage!)
I fell in love with poetry and some time after the class was over, I forget I loved it. I continued my lifetime affair with novels, and poetry became the one night stand I rarely thought about. But standing there in the library last weekend, I picked up Padgett's book and it filled me with memories of how intricate and complicated and fun poetry is.
One poem in particularly rekindled the fire and so, I share it with you. Enjoy the genre of writing that allows us to take two minutes out of our day (no more needed) to think, question, and best of all, laugh.
Mortal Combat
You can't tell yourself not to think
of the English muffin because that's what
you just did, and now the idea
of the English muffin has moved
to your salivary glands and caused
a ruckus. But I am more powerful
than you, salivary glands, stronger
than you, idea, and able to leap
over you, thoughts that keep coming
like an invading army trying to pull
me away from who I am. I am
a squinty old fool stooped over
his keyboard having an anxiety attack
over an English muffin! And
that's the way I like it.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Hook, Line and Father
Last week, we took our regular route: past the duck pond, along the bike trail, the major road to our right, constantly competing for top billing of loudness over the thoughts in my head.
As we made our way back, I briefly noticed a few people hanging around the duck pond. My noticing didn't go beyond that, as I was in a rush to pick up Sam from school and my Ginger features were melting in the sun. But before I knew it, I was taken away from my own thoughts as one of the people in the group hollered for me to come over. By holler I mean "Excuse me, can you please help me over here?!" in a voice that indicated someone had a gun to his head or was being savagely attacked by the duck family nearby. Well, neither of these scenarios were reality, but reality was still pretty painful.
I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into when I walked over, was this some elaborate ruse to steal a wallet I didn't have on me, or run off with Ben as I tended to the fake victim? Apparently i have no faith in humans.
As I got closer, I saw that three boys were crying and the dad was sweating so hard I thought he might have actually just got out of the pond. What I witnessed next is probably the most odd picture I've ever seen. The dad explained that his son had cast the fishing line before he instructed him to and the hook wound up in the side of his neck. I know little about fishing. Actually, I know that a person fishing is called an angler and I only know that because of an episode of GIlmore Girls. In any case, I definitely know that a hook belongs in a tackle box, a fish, and that's about it.
I have no idea what kind of pain the guy was in, but the 90 degree weather, his three crying children and a stranger with no medical knowledge whatsoever, had to send him over the edge.
I decided that trying to take the hook out of the guy's neck was probably the worst idea, closely followed by me running away from the situation.
Neither the fish hook guy or I had a cell phone on us. I need to tangent here for a sec: I HATE carrying my cellphone. I really should not be alive in the cell phone era. I don't like it disturbing me while I'm trying to do something nature-y. I hate worrying about how low the battery is, and I put off charging it as long as possible, I only check my voicemail when I have about 5 blinking on my dinosaur phone and someone says, "does that say you have FIVE new voicemails?!" and when I receive more than one text message at a time, I get super stressed out about answering them- I need 21st century therapy. The bf always tried to convince me to bring my cell phone places, "what if someone has an emergency?" "They won't," I say. "What if your family needs you?" he asks and I answer, "they have your number." He will not be seen without having his phone because, "you never know". So, imagine for a second, the look on his face when I come and tell him I had to help a guy with a fish hook in his neck and neither of us had a cell phone: he was wearing pure "I told you so" face.
So without a cell phone, the guy, who by this point is sweating so hard, I think the lubrication might wiggle the hook right out of him, sends his oldest kid on his bike and back to their house to get his wife.
Talk about a long ten minutes. Bless Beanie Bear's little heart because he sat in that stroller not making a peep, while the guys younger boys were still crying. Tensions were running high, and the skin around the fish hook was swelling. It looked like a marshmallow pierced by a campfire skewer. I could not see where the hook was because of the fluffy skin that had now gone from pink to white. The kids were screaming apologies at their dad and the dad was in so much pain, he was shouting, politely- there was a stranger around, after all!- at his son for having put them in this mess.
The counselor in me knew I had to help in some way, so I looked at the sons and told them that it was okay to be scared, but that their dad would be fine. I'm not sure it calmed the kids down, but it definitely put the dad in his sons Spiderman shoes for a second. He gathered himself and told his son that he was going to be okay and accidents happen.
The mom came a few minutes later and although she thought she should pull the hook out of her husband's neck (for better or worse, I guess) we convinced her to drive him to the ER.
I have no idea how they ended up, but I imagine that hook is in a medical trash can somewhere and that the family's fishing poles are slowly collecting dust in a nearby garage.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Don't trip, Chocolate chip.
I am under no misconception that I am the kind of person who sticks with regimens. I do not run every day, 365 days a year, I often forget to take my daily vitamin, and I have yet to create a blog I can stick with.
Maybe that's okay.
As a kid, I received a journal/diary nearly every birthday or Christmas. First of all, thank goodness I've moved past the age where distant aunts and family friends think that a 12 year old needs a new journal every year. I'd rather take the other typical pre-teen gift: Bath and Body Works lotion. At least I could actually put that to good use!
When I would receive a journal, there was a part of me that tried to be really thankful- my mama taught me well. Plus, I am a decent actress and an excellent liar (probably shouldn't brag about that), so I had no problem convincing the gift giver, and myself, that I could not wait to open the leather book, adorned with sometime of inspirational saying (I'm sure it always said something about stars) and scribble away on the gold lined pages. Ah, how many goals I would make in that first entry! I mustered the same amount of enthusiasm one does on the first day of school. But in due time, I would slip writing, stop studying for tests, and promise to return to it tomorrow and then feel guilty when I didn't and give up all together.
This pattern continued, even when I started blogging. I guess I am consistent. Consistently inconsistent must account for something. But, I still feel guilty about it. The same guilt you get when you skip a work-out you promised yourself you'd do, or the thank-you card you were going to write. And then I convince myself I'm the worst person in the world for not sticking with something. I can hear them upgrading me to a luxury suite in Hell. My mind works in mysterious ways. And even though I get tired of whatever journal or blog I've created, I eventually want to try again. It's like returning to spinach salad after you need a break of those deliciously evil french fries.
So, this time around I'm creating a new mindset. Reframing the situation, as we say in counseling. Yes, it's cost me $20,000 to make me feel better about not blogging. Next I'll get a degree in finance so I can learn to not spend money.
Maybe this will be the only piece of writing I ever have on this blog. Maybe I won't come back here for another three weeks...so what?!
Perhaps I'm busy doing really awesome things. Like training for a marathon, taking singing lessons, saving all the children of Africa, writing a novel, planning a trip to Southeast Asia.
Ok, maybe not those things, but I can guarantee I will be running, savoring the smiles of the 7 month old I take care of, baking muffins, cuddling with my man, going to see best friends in Boise, reading a good book and watching Fashion Police (my addiction cannot be stopped). You can also I assume I'll be pissing around on facebook somewhere in there, too.
I will stop feeling guilty for not sticking to some crazy regimen I created, simply because I am living life.
I just finished a book called Drop Dead Healthy (I will blog about that soon, maybe?) and the writer spent 2 years trying to become the healthiest person alive. Of all the crazy steps he took to do so, one of the biggest lessons was learning to avoid the unhealthy level of stress humans seem to be so fond of. This is a lesson I took away from the book, too. (That, and the raw food diet can make you delusional) Don't punish yourself for living, people. This is the only life you've got.
But, don't take my word for it. I'm just a ginger, and as the saying goes, Gingers don't have Souls.
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