never fully-clothed or intentionally misinforming

Common Grounds: 1996-2011

2011-06-26T17:33:00.000-07:00

"Fifteen years is a good, long run" for any business, but for a venue in Gainesville, Florida -- a city where the scene seems to shift as often as the tides -- 15 successful years is a record. And, regretful as I may be to even mention it, the doors are closing on Common Grounds tonight one last time.

This is the epicenter of my young-adulthood. This is my home-base: my favorite place in not only the city, but anywhere. This is the place I am certain to feel at home -- a place I've walked into alone countless times, and left only after making a handful of new friends at whatever concert; a place I've gone to fully anticipating celebrating with strangers only to find I knew half the crowd. This place is my Cheers.

When they made the announcement in mid-June, I was too rattled to truly absorb it. But as time has gone on and the nightmare has turned to reality, I have come to accept it. Begrudgingly so, but still. I cannot fault Nigel or anyone else for being ready to move on to new endeavors. All I can do is hope that whoever fills this place fills it with as much passion as they have the last several years.

It's never been about the profit at Common Grounds. It has only been about two things -- the music and the people. That's what makes Common Grounds so significant -- they represent the people, not the scene. I can only hope in their dying days, they stood true to that thread.

I'm not there tonight, nor are any of my close friends -- but honestly, after we first arrived we never really left. Our asses have probably left impressions on the benches of the porch. Our beer cans left water rings. Our sweat -- and for some of us, even our blood -- stains the floor in front of the stage. We are Common Grounds. And whether it's doors are open or not, it still lives on in all our memories.

And while most of us may not know where to call home right now, I'm sure we'll adjust eventually. It's just incredibly difficult to wrap my head, and maybe I speak for all of us, around the fact that we won't be going to Common Grounds for our cheap musical thrills like karaoke, all the exciting concerts, and BBQs on the Porch. I feel displaced. I accept it, but I feel displaced. And I don't know where to go from here...

Finding my Spark ... again.

2011-04-11T21:09:00.000-07:00

Wrote this for SparkPeople originally, but felt it was appropriate to share across the board. Yay...

I bought a few books at Barnes and Noble recently.

101 Ways to Stress-Free Living
Your Body, Your Gym
and a fitness and nutrition journal.

I'd previously bought the Spark book too. I'm really making an intelligent, mental effort to become a physically active person. I feel if I educate myself on best practices, purposes, and new ideas, I'll be more inspired to execute them myself.

The 101 Ways to Stress-Free Living has really influenced me recently. I've learned that while to-do lists are often effective they can contribute to my rather frequent overwhelming feeling. Solution: need to write less lists by being more productive in the moment. Also, I'm considering a detox period to help cleanse my mind and body. Focusing on consuming only the most purifying, gratifying foods for 3 - 4 days seems like a logical, uplifting way to clear my mind and my body in one fell swoop.

I think the reading alone is inspiring me to find more time for action. Just this weekend JM and I went for a light hike (about 2.3 miles), went our for lunch, which granted was not healthy by any stretch of the imagination, and came home to relax a few hours and then went to play tennis.

It was exhilarating. Honestly. I felt so great about being active -- I'm not great at tennis, maybe not even good, but I try. And I'll keep trying. Thank God I have a beautiful and loving and tender-coaching boyfriend. He is super tolerant of me. See, he's a natural at most any sport.

But you know what I'm most excited about? Jon-Michael and I sat in bed last night and each wrote a list of goals we'd like to accomplish in the next 2 years. We had the EXACT SAME LISTS!

One of these days I'll share my list, but for now let me just tell you he and I are finally opening working toward the same goal. We want to lose weight and, together, run a 5K.

Maybe now, with my better half holding me accountable on a daily basis, I will feel the pressure to achieve my goals. I feel badly even saying that though; it implies that the accountability I should feel from the friends and network of support I have here isn't enough. But that simply isn't how I mean this. What I mean by it is that I have someone here on a daily basis who I can work with and lean on when I'm feeling less than inspired.

And with that being said, I think I'm going to need to reconnect with my existing Spark Buddies via text messaging. I don't have access to SparkPeople during the day -- which is generally when I have my moments of weakness. Meg and Melissa -- this means you may be getting more texts from me -- AKA pleas for inspiration.

Tomorrow is my day off. My friend is coming over to my house with my three goddaughters. We'll be taking them to the water park and hopefully I'll be getting plenty of exercise. But before that, I'm hoping I'll be able to get a doggie walk or maybe a bike ride through the neighborhood into my schedule.

I feel like this blog is going no place significant. But as usual, I want to thank everyone who has supported me and who continues to. I'm sorry I'm not here anymore to support most of you in return. I need to do a better job. Maybe once I seem to rediscover my balance in life, I'll realize this is actually one of my strongest networks and that I do actually need you guys.

I think I better go for now -

sending love and light.

I want to learn Spanish.

2011-03-31T19:02:00.000-07:00

Jon-Michael and I want to be married.

Surprise?

We had a talk over brunch yesterday that consisted of us coming up with a 12 month shared goal set.

It's kind of wild, honestly. I don't know who reads this anymore, and frankly, I don't care.

About three days before our brunch, we had lunch together between my shifts and it occurred to me, and brought me to tears, that for the second time within 14 months, I am fighting for my financial stability.

January of 2010 I was laid off from a job I thought I could have possibly turned into a career. In hindsight, that would never have satisfied me and I was probably only considering making it a career because I heard on so many occasions at that job that I 'better not' make it a career. I don't like people telling me what I can and cannot do. But, looking back, I suppose he was right.

Now I'm being settled back into a part-time position at SunTrust. I say 'back into' because for a short time, I was elevated to full-time because we were down a person. And I'm left wondering what to do now.

I'm 26-years-old. I don't want to work two jobs to make ends meet. I want a consistent 40 hr week, a sweet paycheck, health insurance, and paid vacations -- all from the same employer. Is that too much to ask?

So I'm facing a few questions.

Where do I go from here?

Do I want to grow old in Inverness? And more importantly, do I want to raise a family here? (no. and no.)

So the question that I guess is left to address -- what do I do about it?

2010-11-14T16:37:00.000-08:00

My best friend deploys in a couple weeks.
My friend is currently stationed in Afghanistan.

I miss them.

I can't even put it into words. My friends should be home.

My heart hurts watching this movie.

And I want to keep my friends safe and warm and close to me.

Ten Things

2010-09-11T19:20:00.000-07:00

I plan to blog about in the not-too-distant future:

1. The 2010 Fest
2. My home with Jon-Michael
3. My career(s)
4. My friends visiting all the way from Austria
5. My parents
6. My top personal goals for 2011
7.
8.
9.
0.

... okay, okay. Maybe I can only think of six right now. So sue me.

I'll be back.

My parents.

2010-09-11T18:06:00.001-07:00

There are people in this world too kind to turn a blind eye when they know they have the potential to help.

Adversely, there are people in this world too devoid of conscience to stop themselves from milking that compassion for all its worth.

It sickens me to hear about people taking advantage of the kindness of others. The pure thought of using someone for their willingness to give is immoral and wrought with greed and the idea of deservedness (which, ironically, is seldom the case). Most people willing to abuse someone's pure-hearted goodness generally aren't deserving of it to begin with.

The sad thing is, this happens all the time. I gave money to a homeless person once on my way home. I was a bit richer that day than usual because I hadn't had lunch. The next week, things were financially tighter for me -- I couldn't even afford to eat lunch, and he asked me again. This time I politely said, "sorry, I can't afford it today," and he scoffed at me. As if I don't have my own financial burdens to bear.

Just because mine don't show, does not mean I'm living lavishly. I have my debts, I have my struggles. And even still, most days I'd put food on your table if you needed me to. And I get that quality from my parents.

I know I'll be able to make it until my next paycheck. And I also know I can afford to give a little to someone who needs it. And most days, I'll take your word for it.

But the more I hear about this epidemic of greed and deservedness, the less I care to give. I have no independents. No one is entitled to what I work so incredibly hard for except myself. If I chose to give, it is because I want to and can. Not because anyone else deserves what I have to offer.

I'm sitting in my living room right now, taking a look at this home I've created with Jon-Michael and I'm shaken by the knowledge that I've worked so hard to get to this point and, ironically, I'm working so hard to keep it, we seldom get the time to enjoy it together.

And sullenly, this reminds me of my parents. Them, with their beautiful home on this majestic reservoir in the country, with their three children raised and happy, and yet, they still work so hard to call it home. They have so much to be proud of and such great accomplishments to show for their lives, yet seldom they get to sit in that house and soak up the serene, natural silence of the forest without some interruption.

If it's any indication of what my future may be, I'd rather my parents be recluses in their home in the woods, have no obligations to tend, and no voids to fill in the lives of others unless and until they wanted, than to think they've worked this hard for this long to still not be able to enjoy the fruits of their labors without feeling obligated or pressured into helping people the way I do.

I, as well as they, deserve far better than to be misused because of our kindness.

Walter M. Mielnicki was a brilliant man.

2010-08-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

One of my greatest mentors passed away last month. And as sad as it was for his family -- and myself, it was also eye-opening for me. In my head, this man, my fifth grade teacher, and one of my greatest role models in school, was unstoppable. He was a military man, with a stern, no-nonsense policy, a kind heart, a strict classroom, and a penchant for making his students want to learn.

It broke my heart to hear of him passing away -- especially to hear something as malicious as cancer had taken him. Though it was no surprise he'd fought a long, hard battle with it before finally succumbing. He was a brilliant, inspirational man. And, as an adult, I never told him that. (Also, I'm sure I never told him as a child either.)

His passing truly opened my eyes. Who else had I also not told of their impact on my young life? Of my other mentors and teachers, who had the greatest impact, and who did I feel needed to know.

At a point when I was extremely impressionable, Mr. Mielnicki put his stamp on my life. He opened my eyes to worlds much greater than what I knew, all the while showing how large of a difference I could make while staying within the community. From a rural town like Fort McCoy, he took all his students to the moon with his Young Astronauts program -- a program unmatched by any school or organization, and taught us the importance of exploring the vast unknown of our universe.

This was a man who loved his family, his country, and his career as an educator. A man who took his calling seriously and taught his pupils cautiously, but strongly, to excel, set lofty goals, and obtain them.

I am sorry I never got an opportunity to let him know the impact he made on my life. But the loss of his powerful, luminous presence in this world has shed some light on my feeling compelled to write my remaining mentors, who are also probably reaching a grey age, and let them know their impact on my life -- as I often wonder if most teachers ever get that kind of confirmation.

I'm off now to search for addresses for those mentors I long to track down. Which include, K. Butterfield; my gifted teacher from first grade until eighth, Mary Sanford (Rivera); my elementary music teacher, Russell Murphy; my high school chemistry/physics teacher, and Pete Smith; my college music/humanities teacher.

Moving on.

2010-07-10T19:49:00.001-07:00

I'm just going to bypass the whole where I've been and why I've been M.I.A. mumbo jumbo. I ran out of things to say, my life got boring, things didn't happen, things DID happen, whatever. I wasn't around. Now, here's why I'm writing today.

1.I still have multiple paying jobs because none of them will offer me full time.
2.Business endeavors.
3.I just moved in with my boyfriend, future husband, and soul mate.

Let's talk about number three.

We just took the plunge. No, not marriage, although our phone company seems to think so – I received a rebate check address to Alison Scott Soracchi. It's a damn good thing I work at a bank. They deposited it, no problem. We moved in together. We took that step. After four and a half grueling years of battling the side effects of living a long distance relationship, we actually moved in together.

And I can say without question now, that getting laid off from the labor union was the best thing to ever happen to my life with Jon-Michael. If I still worked there and he still worked where he works, I know without a shadow of a doubt, I wouldn't have made the transition to our new town – the commute would have been entirely too taxing for the pay I was making.

So we live together now. We have this home, and it's coming together quite nicely. We have curtains up, and an area rug between our sectional and television. We have a cute bathroom and a nice master bedroom, and – the best part – a beautiful back yard for our girls and my gardening. Our life together is really taking off. I feel a difference in us... one I used to say would happen when this day came, but don't know that I ever even believed myself.

I used to tell my Love that the day we moved in together, my need for him would lessen, he'd have more off time to himself – I wouldn't be so greedy of his free time. And after just two weeks, it's already true. Used to be, I'd want to occupy every waking moment he had available because those were the only moments I'd get to see him for the week. Now I don't really mind being separated from him because I know at the end of the day, he will come lay down with me. Each and every night. We are in a phenomenal place. We've never been so happy and I've never been so certain that I am going to spend the rest of my life being the complementing (and complimenting) second half to his.

Maybe it's obvious that I'm tremendously happy with my personal life right now. Good.

Moving on though. Since February, I've been working four paying jobs to make ends meet. I have two “regular” jobs – retail and banking. And I have two more flexible jobs – web design/maintenance and wedding photography. I wouldn't be complaining except that I can't seem to get the two regular jobs schedules to successfully co-exist.

Not that I ever doubted the difficulty of working two jobs and balancing those schedules, but I now have great respect for anyone who does it permanently. See, despite the fact that as long as I work for my two current employers, I will most likely have to work for both of them, I still don't view working two jobs as a permanent situation for me; it's just not something I have any intention of spending such a large portion of my precious life on. Thanks but no thanks.

Once again, moving on. The business endeavor my close friend, Ryan, and I have been working on for the last several months has just hit a giant, ultra-intimidating road block. I'm stalled, but not thwarted. We can work around it, but it's going to be a challenge determining where to go from here. And, understandably I hope, at this point, I'd rather not go into much detail.

Lately I feel like I've been working really hard – burning the candle at both ends, and not only not seeing any rewards, but also not making so much as an inch of progress. It's becoming cumbersome. And lends to less desire to set high goals and then achieve them. Obviously, I'm bothered by this. I love setting myself up a nice lofty goal to reach and then actually reaching it. Lately though, it's just been one strike out after another.

I tend to believe there is nothing too difficult for me to accomplish, or learn, so when I do fail, I have a much easier job blaming my inabilities or lack of will to reach my goal than I do to admit what I am trying to do or learn is actually quite difficult. I'm hard on myself. Plenty hard enough that whoever may be teaching me need not be that hard at all. In fact, not that I find it fair to blame other people when I make a mistake, but usually if I am taught something fully and fully correctly, I practice the same habit – or ask questions. If I were a cat, I'd have been dead years ago from all my curiosity.

And one last thing... I've been entirely too busy lately. And you know, that's sad. I used to make time for my family Hell or high water. I was the one to be counted on. I spent time with all my friends, had plenty of down time for myself, loved my life and lived every moment of it. These days I work, sleep, wake, work, sleep. It's terrible. When did I lose my sight of the most valuable things in my life?

Yesterday I was driving home when I caught quite beautiful colorations in the sky and for the life of me, I couldn't remember the last time I noticed how beautiful my surroundings were. At the beginning of the summer, I vowed I'd visit the beach more. Then this oil disaster occurred and, even with that pressure to see the beaches potentially one last time, I still haven't found time to get there.

I came to the realization I am catering to far too many situations that do not make my life a happier one. I'm spending too much time and effort on things that result in little to no benefit for me. And that is going to change because ultimately, there isn't a single thing on this planet that I want to be part of if it doesn't make my life a happier one.

Moving on.

Weeeeiiiird.

2010-04-04T15:09:00.001-07:00

Right now I'm sitting back-to-back with my future husband, while he works and I play. We're at his office and I really don't like the sound of the space bar on this keyboard -- it's as if there's a spring loose -- but I'd rather be here, plucking away at a new blog and listening to this space bar make bizarre noises, while he sits behind me piecing together tomorrow's newspaper than be anywhere else on the planet.

Today I went to the Easter service at a friend's church. And, in all honesty, the service made me want to come back. I've only ever been there for holidays, so I'm not entirely sure every Sunday is as energetic as I've witnessed, but it'd be nice to find out. Also, they have a mission to Haiti and Belize this year. Aid and assistance work is something I've had an interest in doing for a long time and I'm starting to wonder if her church came into my life right now for a reason. I guess we'll find out, won't we?

Just a minute ago there was a 7.2 earthquake in California. Immediately upon hearing about it, I called Detra -- who is currently living in San Diego (or not far from there). She and Nhyya are safe and that's all that matters. I've never been in a situation where someone I love is in a place that's been hit by an earthquake -- I seriously felt like I could have vomited while I was waiting for her to answer the phone.

I'm baaaaaaaaaack.

2010-04-02T21:24:00.000-07:00

Probably short and sweet tonight -- I don't want to overwhelm you.

I should probably start with a quick game of catch--you-up.

1. I'm still in love with my boyfriend, Jon-Michael. We're this close to living together and one day he will ask me to marry him. And I say this because he already asked my dad. Eeeeeee! I know I say this every time, but I can't think of any point ever in our whole relationship that we've ever been this happy.

2. I have five jobs, four of which are actually paying me right now. Most recently, I'm a bank teller -- and I LOVE it. The job obviously requires a high sense of responsibility, but it's fun and enables me to be social, network, and help people -- all things I DEFINITELY love to do. And at the risk of tooting my own horn, I'm really pretty good at it so far. My other three paying jobs are web design (the office for this job is rectangular in shape, comes with pillows, and faces the television in my living room), a lingerie sales associate (aka pantie peddler), and photographer. And lastly, and my current favorite adventure/endeavor, is a business collaborative project with a friend of mine. We've started our own business, and while it's not making money just yet, it has the potential to be very profitable... in time. All that being said, the sad thing is, I still manage to live just slightly above paycheck to paycheck. The biggest downside to having so many jobs is juggling the schedules. It gets taxing ... and that's where my third topic comes in...

3. I got a new phone and it's ahhhhhmazing. It's a Blackberry and before the first night of owning it was over, I was seriously a convert. I used to stare bewildered when people twiddled with their Blackberries, but now I get it. My whole professional and personal life can and probably is stored on that phone. What was life like before it -- I don't even remember. While I'm on the subject though, let me say I DID get a different phone number, so if you're reading this and you haven't heard from me in a while, send me an email and we'll exchange numbers again.

4. My sister received a MUCH needed kidney from our cousin, Dennis. He literally saved her life in February. I mean it. I don't think I'd say she was dying before, but she damn sure wasn't living. And any life on dialysis isn't one that's meant to last forever -- it's simply a stall tactic, but he saved her. They've both almost fully recovered nicely now and life is looking great for both of them. I'd love to write more specifically, but I don't think I can without getting too lengthy.

5. My best friend had brain surgery. Yes, brain surgery. And she also recovered flawlessly. Now she's on the fast track to reversing several side effects of the disease she was diagnosed with -- side effects including things like diabetes and high blood pressure to name some common ones. It's amazing what strength we can find in ourselves when it comes to doing the best thing for our health...

6. And that brings me to three indescribably remarkable women. Carol, Ariane, and Tracy. If any of you three read this, please know you're the three most astonishingly incredible fighters I know. These three women have all fought or are fighting their own battles with cancer. All three have touched my heart and changed my life in more serious ways than I can even describe. And all three have shown me the strength we can muster when it comes to surviving. These women, while struggling themselves, would be the first to give the food from their tables to feed me were I hungry, or the clothes off their backs to clothe me. They have taught me to love and give even when we feel like we only need, because giving forward pays back... because loving makes us loved.

And I'm realizing more these days than ever that no matter how tight my money is, I can always come up with more; no matter how hungry I am, I can always find food; and no matter how dark life seems to be, I can always find the light. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot live my life without the people I love in this world.

I'm miss writing and I'm hoping I begin to find the time or the interest again. It seems like when I had the labor union job, I was always so bored and reading up on random things that conjured opinions. I had things to write about. Now I'm too busy to read and too uninteresting to have anything to write. I may have to make an effort to get back into it, but I certainly miss the feel of these keys against my fingertips as I ponder the next word and the sound of them clicking under the weight of my thoughts pressing down letters.

I'm already anxious for my next bit of writing...

Oops, I gained 6 pounds.

2010-01-29T22:32:00.001-08:00

Let me start from the beginning. Let me be completely and openly honest. And let me not leave a thought out.

I haven't lost any weight since June of last year. That was the point when I had to stop losing to fit into a dress for a friend's wedding. I wasn't happy being part of her wedding. I did it for her and she was less than thankful. And, physically, I've been in a frozen state since then... until December. It was in December that I stepped on the scale for the first time in a month or more and realized I'd gained six pounds back. I can't even pinpoint when it happened, but I can certainly identify the habits that enabled it to creep back on.

Rewind to August and I've just returned to work from a memorial service for my Aunt who had just passed away and I receive an e-mail from my boss, whose desk was immediately behind mine, stating that effective immediately, I will be cut back to four days a week. Which, coincidentally, equated to me needing to immediately find a second job in order to keep a roof over my head and keep my bills paid. So, as devastated as I was, I hit the ground running. I started applying at every retailer I could think of -- especially ones open after 6 PM. It wasn't until a friend honestly suggested Victoria's Secret, that I even considered applying there. At this point, I wasn't about to turn anything down. And so I put in an application and, miraculously, they hired me. I won't even get into how self-conscious I was to start working there, and how aware I suddenly became of my body and it's unpleasant shape. At some other point, I'll have to take a moment to tell you more about what it's like to work for a place that prides itself on promoting breathtakingly beautiful, predominantly slender women.

Fast forward to October. The Fest, a musical festival in Gainesville, Florida, occurs every year and every year, my friends come from a couple different parts of the country to experience it with us. And every year, I eat what feels like my weight in unhealthy foods, like burritos and BBQ and drink more than my share of calorie-packed bevvies. I just can't help it. But on the flipside I spend the entire weekend, dancing to indie music, skanking to ska, and moshing to punk, not to mention I pretty much cover the whole downtown Gainesville area by foot the whole weekend. So I like to think it pretty much balances out, right? =P

Now we're in November and Angela and I are planning a Thanksgiving feast at our house on Magnolia. We invited about 30 people and all but 7 showed up. Because of the number, we had all intentions of eating outdoors, but the day of the meal, it rained unexpectedly. Luckily, my parents were able to buy a car canopy, my sister's boyfriend was able to pick it up and, with the help of other friends, set it up in our yard, and afterward all the girls arranged and dried the tables and chairs. Every guest brought a dish, and we all sat around one large table (four rectangle tables put together 2x2) and feasted. It was pretty awesome, but again, I ate too much. I mean, there were two dishes of macaroni and cheese. And I can't say no to macaroni and cheese. Then December happened, and of course, there's food in this month. And, of course, I ate way too much of it. What else is there to do?

Work had become so slow at my office, that money'd been running low and I was not going to be offered a Christmas bonus. In lieu of that bonus, my boss did give us a few extra days off. What ended up happening was I used those extra days and my previously given vacation days to take all the time off between Christmas and New Year's Eve. In the meantime, I started planning to start a business of my own with a friend. When I returned to work Tuesday, the 2nd of January, my boss called me in for a meeting I assumed to be a standard one. What he had to tell me, however, was that effective the following Friday (four days), I would no longer have a job. And again, I hit the ground running. As much as it sucked to lose my job, I knew I didn't have any time to waste.

So I called V.S. and asked for extra hours; immediately they began training me on register and other areas of the store so I could pick up extra shifts. In my last four days at the office, I searched Monster.com for job openings and started putting in applications at local businesses I thought would be hiring. For the most part, I immediately aimed for something comparable to what I'd be doing, but pickings were fairly slim. Then it occurred to me that I should apply to some bank jobs in the area. The hours of operation for banks could potentially enable me to continue working for V.S.

Fast forward to yesterday, exactly 26 days after being informed of my lay-off (and, coincidentally, my 25th birthday), I landed myself a job with SunTrust bank. And could not be happier. It is a part time teller position, but I fell I'll have many opportunities to move up within this company. And am looking forward to getting the ball rolling on a new career in banking.

Meanwhile, I'm also pursuing my career as a photographer. I'm beginning to print and distribute some of my prints to local vendors and I'm still actively pursuing wedding photography options. The first step is to create business cards of a nice quality. Also, I'm pursuing the business plan I have in mind for a friend and I. When it gets off the ground, I'll take the time to further explain it.

And, great personal news, I'm so happy with Jon-Michael. We have never been in such an amazing place. We love each other more and more with each passing day. And we have quickly discovered that making one another happy is what makes us happy -- or should I say, JM has discovered this, as I have known it for awhile. And we've been in such a great place for so many months now, that at some point in this year, we plan to move in together. As much as we've talked about getting married in the past, we've never really made any concrete plans or set any legitimate goals with one another until now. It's looking like an awesome future for the two of us. And I'll be the first, maybe second, to say I think we deserve to finally have this -- we've fought long and hard for it. Now it's time we enjoy our relationship and all the joy it has to offer us.

Now, let's backtrack and I'll explain some more things -- during all this, remember these things: 1. I stopped actively trying to lose weight and I lost my momentum in this endeavor. 2. I my job got cut back to four days a week and I started a second job to supplement. 3. I lost my job and started hunting for a new one. And in 26 days had landed one at a bank. 4. My personal business endeavors are taking off -- with photography and with a software company I'm hoping to ignite with a friend. 5. My relationship with Jon-Michael has reached monumentally awesome levels -- that increase every single day!

Now, with all that in mind, I hope you're proud of what I have accomplished because I've got some fairly bad news. In the midst of all of this... I have gained six pounds.

So here I sit -- ready to start this process over and get back in the right frame of mind. And I will need my friends. And I will do a better job keeping in touch with all of you. And I think it's safe to say, I'm back in the game. Don't give up hope on me, please. I'm still fighting.

State of the Union.

2010-01-27T18:47:00.000-08:00

I think it's safe to say everyone knows someone who isn't happy with their life, or where it appears they're headed. As sad as it may be, it's probably fair to say that most times people don't become the things they truly aspire to be. All too often, we settle.

And you know, settling is essentially becoming a part of life. People are being born and developing higher aspirations. But with those aspirations, it seems far too many people are caring too little about the journey toward accomplishing them. I'm pretty certain that people forget their actions along the way directly affect the results of their life.

I can't spend my youth stealing cars and selling drugs and still plan to become an astronaut when I grow up. The two things do not correlate. They do not compute.

If a person lives their entire life being mediocre, what makes them think they're deserving of such grandiose luxuries as so many gluttonous, greedy Americans do? It honestly boggles me.

But do you know what boggles me more? The type of people who find themselves in admittedly bad situations -- like a loveless relationship, or a dead-end job -- and do nothing to resolve it.

Whether you want to believe it or not, life is a Choose Your Own Adventure novel. Each choice does lead us to the next, and we are given countless options along the way.

And ultimately, unless you've been struck by some terrible tragedy, like being paralyzed by a drunk driver (which even things like this are debatable. But for the sake of relationships, let's not go there I suppose), YOU are the maker of your destiny.

And as big of a heart as I do have, I have a difficult time feeling extendedly sorry for the people around me who sap and complain, mull over their situation countless times and for ridiculously long periods of time, yet still find it possible to do absolutely nothing about it.

For the first time in my life, I found myself without the ability to pay my rent if I didn't find a second job, so I got one. And then, while I was working to make ends meet myself, heard of a woman who was in a terrible situation - four kids at home, a husband out of work, and her gas light on at 11PM. So I, after working twelve hours between two jobs that day, put gasoline in her car at the station. And two days after that, I bought her a meal. That was in August. It's January now, her husband is still out of work and she still only works part-time, and worse -- she has turned down a quite enticing job offer, spent money on clothes to go clubbing, and routinely spends money on food when there is free food available, all the while still complaining about the financial predicament she's so unfortunate to have found herself in. And as much as I want to be a good friend, I find it ridiculously difficult to bite my tongue when she cries poor mouth. Even Dave, the man who once sat on the corner of Highway 27 and US Highway 441, and waved to me every time I drove by, didn't cry poor mouth and he was actually homeless.

It's people like this particular woman who make me wonder why I feel so much sympathy. But it's people like Dave, who I have bought food for, and did give a Thanksgiving day turkey sandwich to on my way to work the day after Thanksgiving who remind me that there is a need for compassion like mine, but with the need for it also comes the abuse of it. And it's my job to be able to distinguish between the two.

Happy Thanksgiving.

2009-11-25T21:29:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

I hope, as you read this, you're finding yourselves exactly where you want to be and with whom you always imagined you'd be with. May you find before you a feast more bountiful than you could fathom ever needing, and may you recognize the blessing that is this feast, as so many others see empty plates and feel empty bellies this holiday season.

Perhaps the plates, piled high with starches and veggies, will inspire you to acknowledge what you are and have to be thankful for, and, despite what hardships each of us may face, how lucky we are to be alive, satiated, safe, and happy.

I want to take a moment to acknowledge a few things I have to be thankful for this year. First, and most obviously, my family. I wouldn't be who I am or where I am without the support, companionship, and love from my family.I'm thankful for my mom and dad for their endless love and support of me; I know if I ever need anything they're behind me all the way. I'm thankful for the progress Susan is finding in her journey toward being free from dialysis because she deserves a life away from that machine. I'm thankful for Susan -- my sister and a best friend -- period. I'm thankful for Jeff and the fact that as we both get older, we grow closer together. I'm thankful for Jon-Michael for supporting me and taking care of me through everything he could, and for loving me so unconditionally. My friends also - they never fail to remind me that I am only as old as I feel. I'm blessed to find myself surrounded by amazing people -- the kind of people I know have the same heart as I do -- the kind of people who give, without question, to those in need. I'm thankful for the fact that my friends are patient and understanding people. I'm thankful for my Goddaughter, Nhyya, and her mother and one of my best friends, Detra. Before Nhyya, I didn't know what it was like to absolutely, whole-heartedly love a child. And until the day I have my own kids, I'm certain I won't know a love comparable to the love between Nhyya and I. I am thankful for Lucy, Blondie, Charley, Olive (and Morty, the goldfish) AND Heffah and Wednesday for keeping me (in)sane and being such incredible companions. I'm thankful for (Heffah and Wednesday's mom) Angela for tolerating me as a roommate, loving me as a friend, and for being there for me through everything that's happened since the day we met ten years ago. Oh, I'm thankful for the new roof over my head, and the very first house I'm living on my own in. I am thankful for both my jobs, and my actual ability to work two jobs to keep this roof over my head. And I'm thankful for the compassion I'm seeing spread through society this season.

I believe in paying it forward; I think a little bit of exerted energy goes an exceedingly long way. I believe it only takes a little to accomplish a lot. You can make a person's day better with a few simple words, a smile, or a kind gesture. I believe in being nice. And I believe in passing that belief along. I believe it is important to remind ourselves that we are alive. We are together. We can still laugh. We can still hug. And even if times are tough and our health isn't the best, we still have one another. We have much to be thankful for.

I'd like to hear what each of you is most thankful for these days. I hope you share when you've got the time. Let's consider it our opportunity to tell one another what we're happy about, what we've accomplished, and what we're most thankful for.

Be well and be happy. I love you all.

Alison

shittiest post ever.

2009-11-18T21:03:00.000-08:00

hello strangers.

I have no excuses. This is my first blog in months (at least, on Blogger it is.) I did set up at Tumblr. Friedenfotograf.tumblr.com is me. It's mostly tweets, but it's still mine. I might move there. I'm thinking about it. I'll definitely let you know if I do.

I can't talk long, because it's after midnight and I need to be up by 6:30 in the morning.

But I'm happy - really, genuinely happy -- with my life right now.

I'm busier than I've ever been. And working two jobs is occasionally busting my ass, but I enjoy it. I miss my friends, but I enjoy the busyness factor.

I miss blogging. I was looking through archives on Myspace --- what did I ever see in that site? And I realize I used to write ALL the time. What happened to that part of me? I've been reading more than writing lately, but still ... miss it.

I'm going to try and get back into short-blogs. We'll see. That's why I'm considering Tumblr as a permanent move. I like the convenience of it. I can tweet and it goes there from my cell phone. It seems more inviting as far as short blogs go also.

I'm considering selling photography. Any suggestions?

I'm also considering applying for a UF band photographer position. It'd pay anywhere from $7.50 - $25 an hour. Interesting. What's the worst that could happen. I need to work on getting out of the Local. They're suffocating me... and they don't plan to keep me forever anyhow. Sucks for them.

That's all I have time for. I miss my reader(s). I'll keep you posted on my move. It'll probably happen.

This Just In...

2009-08-20T07:54:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite members/clients just called for the second time today. He is one of my favorites because he's always polite, asks to talk to me when he needs something he knows is my job to do, and always says he appreciates everything I do here.

Earlier he said I sounded tired and that I should catch up on my sleep all weekend, the second time he called, he said I sounded a little better, but I must have partied far too hard. When I told him I actually worked last night, he said, "wow, you work two jobs... dang girl."

I've decided I'm taking that as a compliment.

This just in: I hung up the phone after taking a message from him and it immediately rang back. When I answered it, it was him AGAIN. This time I laughed when he identified himself and said, "you just want to talk to me, don't you?"

His answer was actually yes. When I politely declined, he was all, "oh, I understand. Could I talk to Fred?"

When I turned around to look for Fred, he was standing behind my desk with this perplexed look on his face.

Two days ago we were sitting in the conference room debating counter tops and how strong they need to be, Fred said, "they need to be plenty strong for all these big, burly linemen to lean on because you know they will. And that pass through window for Alison needs to be double strong, and plenty wide, because the first time one of those linemen leans on that counter to see down her shirt, it's going to break right off."

It's like ... now that he knows I secretly work at Victoria's Secret, he's more paranoid than ever that these rough and tumble old linemen are going to harass me.

I got this Fred.

The good, the bad, the ugly.

2009-08-10T08:12:00.000-07:00

1. Good: The Hype Machine. I wish I had a decent explanation for how incredible it is. I met one of the people behind it's genius last week and the way I discover music is forever changed. Take a looksee. Maybe I'll explain it later. Just trust me, it's worth checking out.

http://www.bizzia.com/files/168/2007/10/hype-machine-logo.jpg
The Hype Machine

2. Good: Texts From Last Night. A hilarious collection of exactly what you think ... texts from last night. Submitted by friends or recipients, or whoever, these texts are often times worthy of laughter so intense tears happen. People say ridiculous things. So check it out. TFLN.

3. Bad: My aunt died. I wrote about it briefly already. She's sorely missed, that's a fact. And there's always going to be a void in the family where she used to exist.

4. Good: One Sentence. One Sentence is a website that posts stories summed up in ONE sentence each. It's similar to Post Secret in the sense that people reveal intimate details of sadness or happiness or whatever emotion and personal issue, but this is text only.

5. Bad: I got home from my aunt's memorial service to a memo in my e-mail inbox regarding a cut in hours for me and two of my co-workers. Without saying too much, I'm pretty peeved about how the company/my boss decided to handle informing me of this whole situation. But I love my job here and love the people I work with.

6. Ugly: Immediately I started making arrangements to find supplemental employment. I mean ... I redid my resume, put a profile on Monster.com and essentially hit the ground running. When I was full-time here, I was just barely making ends meet. Now that my hours were being cut 20%, there was no time to sit and mope. I had to find a second job and I had to do it fast.

7. Good-- really good: the intensity of support from my friends brought me to tears seriously every day between Tuesday and Friday. One friend got me a meeting with a manager at Victoria's Secret the very day I found out my hours were being cut. Another friend bought me groceries. More than one friend bought me dinner. And even more friends have listened to me slightly panic about the potential shit storm I was about to go through known as having bills to pay and no money to pay them.

8. Bad: I got a text from my sister one night asking how her cats were doing. She'd left them at her apartment and I was supposed to go check on them while she was out of town. Well, I forgot -- in all the job related distress, I completely forgot them. And I cried like hysterical mess the moment I realized I had. The poor things had been at her apartment all by themselves. I called her so upset she thought one of them had died.

9. Good: Some friends who happened to be at my house when all this went down took calm control of the situation and drove me to Gainesville to check on the cats. Luckily they were all alive. Not only that, their food and water bowls were still plenty full.

10. Bad: When my friend dropped me back off at my house (at 1AM) after checking on the cats, I got out of her car, when into my house, and went to bed. It wasn't until the next morning, once I was already running 10 minutes behind schedule, that I realized I'd left my car keys in her car. Why had I even brought them with me to begin with!? I don't know. After a fiasco, Jon-Michael driving me to her house, getting my keys, and driving me home, I finally got to work -- and was just under an hour late.

11. REALLY GOOD: The very first place I applied -- Victoria's Secret -- hired me on Saturday. Sunday I started my training, tonight I'm going in for round two and we'll go from there. The manager is more than enthusiastic about working around my schedule here and is very supportive.

12. Good: every business I applied at has called me back for an interview. This is more cool than good, since I already got a job. =)

13. Good: things with Jon-Michael are so good right now I don't even know what to say about it. He's been so supportive and thoughtful of what I'm going through. This deserves a blog all it's own.

Aunt Kathy

2009-08-10T05:59:00.000-07:00

My Aunt died Wednesday night, July 29, 2009. She'd been on life support for awhile while my family struggled with the decision to either force her to fight a battle we all wanted her to win (something I don't have the energy or emotion to write about right now), or take her off her ventilator and let her make the decision herself. They chose to take her off the ventilator and she eventually grew tired of the battle. I don't blame her.

Her memorial service was Sunday in Tennessee. My brother, sister, and I drove up there Saturday afternoon - arrived there at 1:30AM Sunday morning. The service was Sunday afternoon and Jeff and I headed back Monday morning.

While we were all there for a very, very somber reason, being surrounded by our family made it a little easier to find some positivity. Aunt Kathy brought all of us together, under one roof, for the first time in 20 years. A woman with that kind of power won't ever be forgotten. A woman with that amount of love will always be missed. Sitting under a pavilion at a park that overlooked the Smokies and Douglas Dam, were four generations of Aunt Kathy's family. Four. Generations. It was pretty incredible.

I think she would have been happy about that. And I think she would have been happy with our family photo.

(click image to enlarge)
Here we are, in all our glory.

We love you. We miss you already.

I guess I can't be friendly.

2009-07-31T05:18:00.000-07:00

1. I went to Texas, it was amazing, and I will write an entire blog all about it soon. Promises. Promises.

2. When I returned from Texas I made a new friend on my morning commute. I was stopped at a light, and looking straight ahead when it turned green. I noticed the truck next to me didn't move, so I glanced to my left to see a guy in an olive green Nissan Frontier gazing at me, sort of strangely, as I pulled away. Didn't think much of it -- I was rocking out to some music, with windows down and sleep still in my eyes. I'd probably stare at me too.

The next morning I saw him again, and he did well keeping up with me and my zippity-doo-dahing down the highway. Until his turn came and we parted ways. That was Tuesday.

On Wednesday and Thursday I saw him again. These two days he made sure to keep up, even passed me on an occasion or two. And he waved. So I gave my usual peace sign, and kept right on cruising.

This morning I saw him again and he was weird...er.

I had just finished thinking how nice it was to see the same people on my daily commute. I like it because I feel connected or bonded with other people who commute, like me, to work every day.

Then this guy had to go and tamper with things.

This morning, as I have all week, I saw him a couple cars ahead at the light. When I passed him, I gave a nod and a peace sign and he quite vigorously pulled out behind me and followed me, in a determined kind of way.

I'm the type of person who passes and then changes lanes back into the right lane (that's how you're supposed to drive). So this time, when I passed a car and got back in the right lane, he sped up to get next to me, held up his phone and asked for my number ... at 70 mph.

My response? I mouthed this: "I don't have a phone," shrugged and kept driving.

Why you gotta ruin a nice, friendly thing, Mr. Nissan Guy?

The most wide-spread terminal disease.

2009-07-29T19:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think about the overall awareness of the mortality of humans. We speed down the freeways in bulk-sized metal machines, pumping with fuel and other fire-starters. We tail people, and swerve, neglect our blinkers and side-view mirrors, all the while going 80 plus miles per hour. Thanks to technology, we multi-task like our lives depend on it, when really they depend on NOT doing it. We reach into the back seat, yak on our cell phones, toddle with our GPS devices, eat our breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, we're so unstoppable behind the wheel... so unstoppable and seemingly invincible. Oh, but we aren't.

And I wonder at what point does it dawn on a person that in the blink of an eye, their existence can cease. That everything they thought really mattered, everything they thought they had control of -- all their emails, phone calls, their electronic connections to the world outside, all that crap doesn't matter and never has. But what does matter?

Who's to say? Certainly not me. I mean... do I know what matters to me, of course. But to every other soul on this planet, most definitely not. So in reality, I suppose maybe emails and and GPS are truly the depth of all things important in your life.

Ask yourself this: when it comes your time to go, who's going to be at your funeral? Will your GPS device be a pallbearer? Will your Blue Tooth say your eulogy?

Did your life mean anything to anyone other than you?

I'm asking because I've recently been put in a situation where realizing my mortality was inevitable. And with the weight of some significant stress on my shoulders lately, it seems the mere blink of an eye flashes glimpses of my fate. A potential plane crash. A missed red light on my morning commute. A drive by. An accidental slip while taking a shower. It's all entirely possible. Maybe unlikely, but possible just the same.

And every time I blink and wonder, I tell myself that should it happen right now, I'd be okay with it.

Every once in awhile this blog topic comes up for me. I tell the people I love that I love them and I remind the people who have a hard time dealing with death that it's inevitable, and while heartbreaking, also beautiful. It's an experience that, albeit morbidly, bonds people. All tragedy is this way. It's natural.

But every time this topic comes up, I once again take the time to let everyone know how I feel. This time I decided that I'm not going to single people out and say 'I love you,' but rather, I'm going to tell everyone how I feel about dying.

Dying is inevitable. This whole living thing we're all doing -- it's fatal; the ultimate terminal disease. Each person is plagued with different symptoms and each of us can go to all costs to ease the process, but each of us already knows our fate. We die.

The best we can do is make the best of our situations. We can choose to fight and we will often times win. But while we perhaps win the battle, still ultimately, we do not win the war.

The way I see it, we can look at things one of two ways.

1. We can live life like today is our last day. We can protect ourselves beyond reason and worry about death lurking around each turn, each risk, each breath.

or 2. We can live life like today is our last day and do everything we can to accomplish all we've dreamt of experiencing.

I choose the latter. I choose to make my choices and be confident that I'm making the best choices I can and to stand by them or admit that I made a mistake. But regardless, I choose to live, not in fear, but with passion with intrigue and determination. I choose to go through this life knowing that tomorrow may not come for me, but if that should happen, I will have lived the first 24 years of life to the fullest possible.

a lil' sumpin' sumpin'

2009-07-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

If you're at all a fan of fiction, and like a good beach read -- this one's a winner by my vote. Seriously, I don't read often... and don't really feel like I'm missing much, most times (I do look for entertaining things to read, but rarely will something appeal to me).

Anyway, Jennifer Weiner (pronounced Wine-er, I'm sure) wrote a great book when she wrote 'Good in Bed.' Can't see how a woman wouldn't enjoy it. It's empowering and funny and makes you feel genuine emotion for a fictional character.

If you're looking for a fun read, pick it up. It's got a sequel, but I haven't read it yet. I'll let you know.

make money-money, make money-money.

2009-07-20T13:31:00.001-07:00

I need to make money-money, make money-money.

1. I’m broke. I put my entire savings in my checking account to cover my bills while I was dealing with Traci’s wedding. You all know that already; it’s old news. But now I need to make money.

2. My mom has signed herself up for a community yard sale on August 8. She got a ‘booth,’ which is really just a table under a pavilion, and she’s going to sell the shit out of a bunch her stuff. She also invited me to join her.

Well, to help her, but I can also sell stuff. So I’m rounding up a bunch of shi—stuff I don’t want or need anymore. I have an entire bedroom full of stuff at my parents’ house still, plus random-ass knick-a-knacks at my new house.

Things I don’t recognize, things I don’t want, things I’ll never miss = all money I could definitely use.

3. I took some head shots of my friend Michelle yesterday for a little extra cash. I’m not going to charge her much because she’s a friend – my dad says that’ll be my biggest downfall. I befriend everyone so I’ll never charge anyone full price. Unless I start advertising, I’ll forever be taking pictures of friends or for friends or whatever, and if that’s the case, I’m going to need to start charging otherwise I’ll never make any money.

4. I’m hoping I’ll get a second chance to take maternity photos for another couple I know. I really enjoyed taking Alisha and Justin’s photos, plus – it’s always a learning experience. Collin and Shannon are due in a month or so and have inquired about me photographing their baby-bump. I sent them a link to Alisha’s album so they could see what I accomplished the first time and am giving them time to mull it over. I hope they end up wanting me to take their photos too.

5. I’ve looked into what it costs to buy mat boards in bulk, backing paper, and plastic baggies like you’d buy for storing comic books. The folks have already given me the go-ahead to start selling prints in their antique shop. People gobble up certain kinds of photography around these parts – horses, barns, landscapes. I can do all that. Until my fingers bleed. It’s just a matter of getting those photographs into the public eye.

6. Vistaprints will make free business cards – all you pay is shipping. I’ve worked up several different card styles in the past and still have yet to send one in. I might post them all on here so I can get your (re: Samsmama, since she’s the only person who pays any attention ;)) input. Having business cards will significantly improve my chances of having repeat or request work. I will accomplish possessing business cards before the end of the summer.

7. Angela and I live in a prime location for yard sales, so we’re going to discuss having one. Maybe a community one where my mom and her mom come over, Susan, Jeff, whoever and we all sell out of our yard. We’re all in a crunch, so we might as well do what we can to help one another.

That’s all for now. Can’t think anymore. I want to go home and nap, so I am.

Spent the weekend in the car.

2009-07-20T05:05:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning I drove to Gainesville to meet my mom and sister so we could take a drive to Crooked River State Park (Georgia). We went to a place that we’d taken a vacation to when us kids were much younger. It was pretty freaking cool. Then it started raining and we played in that for about a minute before we ran back to the car.

Got home, let L&B out to play, tossed a bunch of random stuff into a beach bag, got back in the car and headed to Clearwater Beach for the rest of the weekend (which actually turned into being just overnight).

When I got to the hotel, J.M. was almost done writing (he was working, I came to crash the job). Once he was, it was time for dinner on the beach at Crabby Bill’s and a nice stroll around the Beach Walk. Talk about a lively and beautiful part of the state. Clearwater Beach – highly underrated. And I can gather that even in the darkness of 9 or 10 at night.

The next morning, woke up ten minutes before continental breakfast was over – got to the lobby and found all they had left was OJ. I was a tad bummed to say the least. We dicked around the hotel for the rest of the morning, got a late check out, stopped for lunch and then parted ways.

To be totally lame and girlie, this trip to Clearwater was probably the best thing that’s happened to J.M. and I for awhile. We don’t get stuff like that too often. And we need it. We need those get-aways. Or sneak-aways, as I like to call them.

Sunday came home from Clearwater Beach and had plans to photograph Michelle. She’s pursuing a new career – one that requires head shots – and asked me to take her photographs. SUPER! I love it. I’m getting all this new experience. Recently I took my first maternity photos and now I’m taking my first round of head shots. I love my friends.

We did the photo shoot downtown so that we’d have lots of varying backgrounds to work with. I ended up falling in love with this very deep chocolatey-brown painted brick wall that made her blue shirt and sparkling eyes just pop right out of the photo. We had fun, really. She’s always been kind of a clown, so it was so easy photographing her. We laughed the whole time.

After the photo shoot, I came home to realize I’d missed my only reality show addiction – Big Brother. Apparently it comes on at 8 on Sunday nights, not 9. So I have to try and find it online some place. Can’t miss an episode.

Today I woke up feeling dumpy, so I walked to the Jiffy and bought a half gallon of OJ and scheduled myself to polish it off by the end of the day. Wish me luck.

Like Dave Matthews Band I've got So Much To Say...

2009-07-08T12:40:00.000-07:00

Let's go over some things on this fine, sparkly Wednesday.

1. I asked my dad if he would be willing to work out a deal with me for his Jeep Wrangler. It's absolutely awesome. Needs some love, no doubt, but nothing I can't handle. His exact words were, "you can have it." I about shit because for months now I've been thinking about what kind of deal I could work out with him to get it and here he just says I can have it. Too cool.

On the list of things it needs: new brakes/brake line, new ignition/ignition switch, a thorough washing.

The first step to getting it is to call my insurance company to figure out how much it would cost to insure the mother. Most likely more than my Focus, you think? haha. This information will determine if I can even afford to have it.

If I can, I'm going to talk to some friends who work on cars for fun. See what they know about Jeeps and their parts. Maybe I can get cheap or even free labor in exchange for food. Boys are like that. They'll work for food. Plus, I want to learn about fixing things so I'd be hands-on (that may be a good or bad thing).

I'm very, very stoked about this. You have absolutely no idea. I can already see myself driving to the beach in it. Or driving to the woods. Or driving to work. I want it! I WANT IT.

2. I put my entire savings into my checking account recently to make ends meet because of some non-regular expenses I've had lately. And that entire savings is already eaten up entirely.

Traci's wedding is breaking my bank. And I don't even feel bad about saying that. Shit's so expensive. Don't ever be a Maid of Honor. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you it's costing me $760 to do this for her. I love the girl, but that's absurd.

The fact that I busted my ass to save that money for a trip I've been planning for longer than I know now (and am supposed to take next year (although that seems unlikely now, thanks)), only to see all of it be absorbed by the budget of someone else's wedding really upsets me. Is that selfish, sure. Do I care, not at all. Like I said, I busted my ass for the money I've been saving and it is literally completely gone.

I don't even know how I'm going to start over. The whole predicament is mentally exhausting. Makes me want to cry rivers.

That's it for now. Not as much to talk about as I initially thought. I guess those two things were weightier than I realized.

I've got my hungry pants on...

2009-07-08T06:24:00.000-07:00

Random Photo Tuesday is becoming a flop. But it shouldn't because I actually have fun writing those blogs...

Anyway, I didn't do one this week, because I knew I had this blog to write. Now, in all honesty, if I'd have been less euphoric, I probably could have written this on Tuesday and it could have counted as a RPT blog, but I wasn't. And I didn't. So whatev.

By now, if you've got any other affiliation with me (facebook, whatever), you probably know I went to the beach on June 20. But please, allow me to tell you the story.

Originally written on 6/25

About a month ago I got a phone call from Gary; it's been about eight months since I last talked to him. Why does that hurt? Because before October of last year, which is when he moved, we were seeing each other four or five times a week -- and spending quality time together, at that.

I kept saying I'd make the time to come see him, but I never expected my summer to be as busy as it's been, and I've yet to find a weekend that I didn't have any plans.

So a month ago or so he called me up and we talked for maybe half an hour, then he got off the phone and called back again later and we talked for maybe another twenty minutes or so. In that time, he told me he was going to be back in town in June.

Gary and I have been friends since 1991. We were in the same class (we were in the gifted class) from my first grade year through eighth I think. There's a lot of history there. I've written about the history here, if you need to catch up.

This isn't about history. This is about me seeing him for the first time since last October. He called last month, said "I'll be at the beach, you better be too." And, and this is why I believe in God, the weekend he was able to be at the beach just so happened to be the ONLY weekend I didn't already have something scheduled. Thank you, God.

I drove out to the beach on Saturday morning by myself, with some granola bars, a couple waters, a towel and some dry clothes. I was only going to spend the day.

I got to the room, Steven and Sam were up there. I visited with them, looked down onto the pool deck for Mom (Margie), but couldn't find her, so I headed toward the beach. I laid my towel down in the sand, got sunscreened-up and laid down. It was nice. Hot, but nice. I felt instantly relaxed with my towel over my face and my Irish legs roasting in the late morning sun. A few minutes of that and I had to take a dip in the ocean to bring my temperature back down. Minutes after returning to my towel, I got a call from Travis. "We're on the pool deck, come on up."

So up I went, this was the first time I saw Gary. Just as I suspected, there was no awkward 'hello,' just a powerful, quick, effective hug and an "I miss you, man" from him to me. Yes, he calls me 'man,' sometimes 'dude' happens, and on rare occasions, 'bro' slips out. And he means them all from the bottom of his heart.

Tim, Travis, Gary, and myself headed back to the room so they could get suited up and we could all go for a swim. Again, I'm totally one of the dudes. (No, I didn't see and wieners.) But I did learn that some guys go commando under their swim trunks and some don't... apparently not going commando helps prevent chaffing. Nice little tidbit I wouldn't have been privy to if I somehow fell into the 'girl' category.

We head back down. Me with my tote under my arm, with a couple bottled waters, two towels, my sunglasses, sunscreen, iPod, camera, and phone in it, them with their towels slung around their necks ... it became apparent that, despite the 'dude' status, I am definitely a girl.

We chatted with Mom for awhile on the pool deck and got the boys all sunscreened up and then headed to the beach. We laid my tote and one of my towels on the ground. They thought I was a genius for bringing two towels so I could lay one down so the other wouldn't get sandy.

Didn't take long before we were all in the water, body-surfing the waves back into shore, and catching up on all the stories we hadn't been together to tell in awhile. I couldn't, at the time, recall a happier recent moment in my life. Is that sad? I don't really think so.

We swam for what seemed like just a minute -- because time for me goes by so fast when I'm trying to catch up with people. Then we waded back in to play horseshoes. I realized I'm terrible at horseshoes. Which is totally bizarre considering I'm a bowler and it's the same general concept -- swing your arm, release, follow-through. I failed. Miserably. But at least toward the end I started to make up for my shitty beginning. Made me realize I need to practice my horseshoe tossing skills.
Perk to playing horseshoes with the boys: You get to throw like a girl and it's totally acceptable.

Plus, Gary's the biggest source of motivation EVER. "You got this. Great job! Just throw another one just like that for me!" HAHAHA. I almost died from all the sugar he was laying on me in an attempt to help me help him win this lost cause of a game. I think the score was something like 12 to 3 for the longest time. Although I did begin to make a comeback.

Near the end of the game, I was completely disinterested. Not because I didn't enjoy horseshoes (because I'm actually considering getting some for our yard), but because I was so damn hot in the sun and my feet were on fire from the sand that all I could think about was getting back in the water. So as soon as the game was over, we did just that.

The boys did some more body-surfing and then we went to the room to get lunch. Mom had bought sandwich stuff so we went to town making clubs while we watched TV in the hotel room. It wasn't very long before Gary and his mom suggested I stay the night. With Steven and Sam headed home, there'd be room for me in a bed; I thought about it awhile, and ultimately decided I needed to. There wasn't going to be another chance like this in a long time.

Tim left after lunch some time. I walked down with him and he gave me the parking pass for his car (yay for not getting towed before I got the pass) and I realized I really don't spend enough time with that kid. There were several times in the water that Gary and Travis would surf back in and Tim and I would just swim around waiting for them to get back. And in those times, we had some quality conversations.

(Tim... let's hang out. Burgers, my place, some day, be there.)

Later, when it was down to me, Gary, Travis, and Mom, we went to rent movies from Block Buster. Somehow we also decided fishing would be a good idea so when we returned from BB, the boys and I got dressed (since my bathing suit was all I brought with me other than my go-home clothes, I just put on my dry shorts and wore my top) and drove to Ponce Inlet to fish.

And I was excited.

I volunteered to ride in the backseat of the Camaro. Even though my legs are retardedly long, I made it work. We listened to Rise Against (because what else would I ever listen to in the company of the two boys who I will always associate with Rise Against? I guess that's another story all it's own) and I kept thinking about how different I feel listening to Rise Against with them versus anyone else, or by myself.

We got to Ponce Inlet and Gary baited my hook with a shrimp from a bag someone had given us on the way from the car. Then I climbed out onto the rocks, relearned to cast, and went to town... waiting for fish to bite. It was so cool too. I wasn't catching anything though, so I moved a little further down, recast, and waited again. After a few tries like this, my bobber disappeared. Travis and Gary got all excited and I started to reel it in and Travis yelled "set your hook!" So I yanked back as hard as I could and started reeling and then he said, "wait, wait... what's going on??" I gave him the pole and at that moment, we all realized about the same exact moment my hook was on a rock.

Even still, that was the most excitement any of us got from fishing. But we still had a blast, it doesn't matter what we're doing together. When we switched fishing sites for the last time, I stopped fishing and took pictures. Here's one of my boys in the tide:

Ponce Inlet, by the way, is the Shark Bite Capital of the World. It claimed it's first victim of the year (a 17-year-old girl) in March. Wonder why I'm not swimming?

I took some other random ass pictures of the sunset:

And the water and rocks:

And then when they were about done fishing, I playfully held up the camera and said something along the lines of 'time for a group shot, boys.'

Couldn't be happier with the way this one came out:

On our way back to the hotel, we stopped at the 7/11, got some snacks and drinks, and then headed back to the hotel to watch movies (Strangers and Yes Man). We were at a light on SR-40 and some guy in a '90s Mustang starts revving his engine... impressive. He dropped gears and peeled out, spinning his tires while driving like 30mph. Is that even possible? Purely insane.

When we rounded the corner of the hall to our room, the door was propped open. I was in front of Gary and Travis. Gary quickly grabbed my arm, walked in front of me, and pulled the door the rest of the way to see his mom cooking dinner on the stove. Apparently she had set the smoke detector off, so she had the door and the sliding glass doors wide open for ventilation. We all scolded her a little for having her hotel door wide open, at night, ALONE!

Once we were all changed for the night, we ate our dinner and then and proceeded to watch Strangers with all the lights off, shades drawn and doors locked. Travis was laying next to me on the bed, Gary was in the chair on the other side of me and Mom was in the other bed. And any time anything scary happened, we ALL screamed like girls. HAHA. At one point, I even jumped and covered my eyes. Scary movies aren't my thing.

After watching Strangers, Travis went to sleep because he had to be up at 4AM to spend the next day with his dad; Mom also went to sleep. Gary and I finished Yes Man and then we both went to sleep. About four hours later, Travis was up and getting ready to leave. The alarm also woke me up. And me being awake woke Gary up. I was laying in bed and he got up to go to the bathroom. When he came out, I had my eyes closed in bed, he bumped into the wall and it made a sound similar to the sound of the "Strangers" knocking at the door in the movie. I sat up real quick, asked if it was him that made the noise and then determined I wouldn't be falling back to sleep. Like I said, scary movies aren't my thing.

So we got up. We drank some OJ and eventually made our way to the balcony to watch the sunrise. It was damn sure beautiful (see the first picture of the post). We saw the start of a triathlon, three guys surfing, and one guy attempting to fish, but catching nothing.

I was so perfectly content to sit on the balcony hardly talking, admiring the sun, and wondering if anything like this would ever happen again. Then around 7AM we decided surfing needed to happen. I got dressed, went down to the lobby for a toothbrush, charged my cell phone in the car, got my camera and memory cards, and met Gary on the beach. Where, for almost two hours, I proceeded to photograph him surfing. For the first time in all the years he's surfed, he's never been photographed.

A handful of people walked by, the occasional person would stop and chat. One guy even asked who was having more fun. Initially I said we were having equal fun, but I realized quickly that I was having more fun because he wasn't having much luck with the shit for waves the ocean was producing. Still, I could tell it felt good for him to be out there, alone, happy, and watching the sun still coming up.

After a while, we called the surfing quits and headed back to the room for breakfast. After breakfast, we packed up the room and Mom, Gary and I all went down to the ocean for one last swim. After that, it was essentially time to check out. And that means, it's pretty much the end of the story. Not nearly as fun to retell as it was to live. I imagine it's not nearly as fun for you to read about either.

For fun, here are some of the surfing shots.

Secret Identities.

2009-06-24T10:46:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how I feel about people keeping things as serious as a daily commitment to public writing from their husband/significant others/friends/people that are "important" in their lives. I can't help but wonder what would happen when someone unexpected, someone that you never wanted to read it, discovered it.

I know a woman who's been writing a public blog since 2007. Usually she writes about her husband, her children and the general on-goings of her life; although, she never wrote their names, and goes by an alias herself. Anyway, her writing never seemed like a big deal to me. Then her husband found out about it.

And when that happened, I started to think about the things she'd write -- the things I knew/read as comedy, but things perhaps her husband would be hurt by. When it's at the expense of someone who has zero idea he/she was being written about, I have a hard time feeling sympathetic in the wake of the repercussions. I feel like he has every reason to be a little heartbroken in discovering that his wife has successfully kept a secret existence from him for two years.

After her husband found out, she started writing by invitation only -- meaning not any old person can stop by and read what she writes. She doesn't have to worry about perhaps a mother-in-law, or family friend, or sometime in the future, perhaps even a kid stumbling upon a blog she wrote where she trashed the way her husband was contributing that day.

Don't misunderstand this, I've definitely opened my mouth and inserted my foot on more than one occasion with this blog. The key to my blunders is that I never tried to hide them. The things I've written about people are advertised all over my Myspace, Facebook, Twitter, AIM... everywhere. Not that this excuses any hurtful things I said, but I always also said those things directly to the person they were about (which was almost always Jon-Michael, I'm sorry honey).

This entry of mine is about people writing openly public, openly blatant, openly hurtful blogs about people in their lives without giving those people the benefit of knowing it's happening. It'd be one thing if the writer was writing in a private online diary, but we're talking about public blogs here. Blogs anyone with enough sense to use Google could discover. And my how your world might crumble were the wrong person to Google the right word.

My friend with the family blog changed her set-up. And I too have learned from my past. I think it may be true that everyone has to learn on their own time, but ... just let this be a warning.

If you're going to have a bitch-fest, do it in private. And if there's any brain-wielding adult on this planet who still believes in complete anonymity on the internet, let me shake you vigorously by the neck. It does not exist.

=/

Awesome.

2009-06-24T06:20:00.000-07:00

Many, many moons ago Samsmama's tagged me in one of those 'list seven awesome things about yourself' blogs. I'm kind of bad about picking out my good qualities, but I kind of realize I should be proud of what makes me awesome.

And really, I am awesome. There's no doubt about that. So here (sorry for the delay).

1. Anything I want to learn, I learn. Drafting & architecture by hand & also by AutoCAD? Check check & check check. Driving a stick shift? Check. High school level French? Check. Photography? Check. Sculpting & painting? Check check. Page design? Check. Web design? Check.

2. I designed an award-winning literary and art magazine from cover to cover... twice (due to a hard drive crash). The second time, I completed the entire magazine in 6 hours.

3. I am a published columnist, poet, and photographer (and paginator, too)(aside from this blog, I mean).

4. Any Saturday that I don't have plans, I volunteer with Habitat for Humanity, building homes for families in my community. I climb scaffolding and heave sheets of plywood to the second floor, I walk across rafters and hang out over the edge of the roof to put up fascia board, I do it all. Lately this hasn't been happening -- I'm starting to become bitter about that, but the minute my life settles back down, I'm all over building some houses.

5. I never have any extra money, but when I stop at a light and someone's asking for help, I give what I can. A dollar or two, a bottle of water, an umbrella. I never ask questions and I never hesitate to share anything I've got that could help their situations. Especially with so many people losing their jobs and their homes in this economy, I realize myself or my family could easily be in those same shoes. And I can only hope people would be so compassionate toward us.

6. I put other peoples' needs in front of my own -- beyond helping out people who're asking for help on the streets, I mean. Sometimes I say yes to a friend, or go along with something even if it derails plans I previously had. Why? Because I like to see them happy. Seeing my friends happy makes me happy, so while throwing that party or cleaning for it, or going to a park, or getting my nails done, or having company at hte house might not have been what I would have LOVED to do, I did it anyway because I love you/them and ultimately, I'll be happy whenever you/they are.

7. I'm tall and I have a nice rack. Okay, okay. While I am serious about both of those things ... the truth is, I give incredible hugs... and I'm not even tooting my own horn with that one. I've been known to cure maladies with my hugs. Lemme know if you need one, no appointment necessary.

In the meantime, let's share.

2009-06-23T15:57:00.000-07:00

Frozen Grand Central from ImprovEverywhere on Vimeo.

If you had the ability to revisit a moment in your life, what moment would it be?

Tell us.

(I've known about the flash mob in Grand Central for awhile, but I got the idea for this post from SoulPancake)

TOMS

2009-06-12T10:01:00.000-07:00

If you watch any television, perhaps you've seen the AT&T commercial about TOMS Shoes?

If you haven't, here's the vid:

Anyway, TOMS has been around awhile - 2006, I believe is when they took off really. And even before the commercial came out, I'd seen their site and considered how cool it would be to get a pair of shoes, knowing I'd be shoeing another person, for free. The problem is, I've never been able to wrap my head around getting one pair of shoes for $50. Just seems senseless.

I had the completely wrong mentality. I might have only been getting one pair of shoes for $50, but I was buying TWO pairs. Just because I wasn't seeing the second pair doesn't mean I wasn't buying it. In fact, I was buying them for someone who needed them much, much more than I did.

If I had an unlimited arsenal of fundage, I'd buy myself a new pair of TOMS every month. But I don't... yet. So what I decided to do, because we're all aware I'm still working on shaping up, is treat myself to a pair of TOMS for the next goal I obtain. When I decide that goal, I'll let you know.

Speaking of weight loss -- despite the fact that I had Reese's cups and cheese crackers for lunch yesterday, according to my digital scale, I lost another pound. What am I going to do!? I can't not fit into my MOH dress. There's no way around it.

Back to TOMS. I already picked out a pair, which means, friends, if you decide you're buying TOMS, you can't get the ones I want. Capisce? Here they are, tell me they aren't perfect for summer:

Go Relax! (And I have a question for my readers.)

2009-06-11T12:31:00.000-07:00

Okay ... maybe I've been under a bit of stress lately. I'll admit, I have a tendency to carry a packed schedule. And for the most part, I can do this quite well. But there are times -- and I think they come in waves -- that I need to gtfo and decompress. This is why you suddenly find out I went to the beach, or was MIA for an entire weekend. It happens. It's been happening for my entire adult life. Those who know me, either embrace it, or get over the fact that I'm not changing.

But I have to confess, even for me, the schedule lately has been an overwhelming one. At the end of May I was looking at my calendar and realized from that day through the middle of July, there isn't a single vacant weekend. I wish I were kidding.

As much as I love being busy and having parties, volunteering, getting together with friends for coffee, and all of that fun stuff, if I don't get to take a long, retardedly hot shower every few nights and turn my phone off from time to time, I become the most heinous woman you'll ever cross. And lately, I've been missing the hot showers and no phone days. And it's been showing. I'm on the brink of utter heinousness and I'm telling you, you really don't want to see that.

On top of being uber beesh who'll destroy your existence for not taking out the trash or returning her email, I get ultra emotional (read: cry like there's no end in sight) and often times react to situations without using my usual and trusty old tools like logic and reason.

About three days ago I was having a conversation with my best guy friend. We talked over a couple hours about all kinds of things -- some pertaining to him, some to me, some neither of us. At one point it came up that I was so damn busy this summer. When would I get to relax? He said, in what I thought was a joking matter, that I needed to treat myself to a day at a spa. The comment blew by so quickly and the conversation transitioned to something like the habits of dogs that I never thought another thing about it ... until I checked the mail yesterday.

In my mail box I found an envelope, hand-addressed to me from Cloud 9 Spa and Salon in Gainesville. When I opened it, I found a brochure wrapped in a sleeve with a message on the front.

To: Alison
From: Patrick
I think you might need this. Thanks for being a good friend. Go relax.

I started crying immediately. Attempted to compose myself (because the last thing Patrick wants is to answer his phone to a sobbing, incoherent schlub babbling on about a spa treatment) and called him. When the phone was ringing, I was fine. When he answered, I started crying again. I can't help it.

I think it sends me to tears when people do generous things for me because it's not often it happens. I'm not saying the people in my life aren't generous, but your run-of-the-mill generosity isn't the same as picking up on the fact that your friend needs to be pampered and surprising her with a gift card to a top of the line local spa.

I've been carrying it around with me since yesterday. I'm still trying to decide what to do and when to go. Although I think I've decided I'm not going until Traci's wedding is over. Because once that occasion passes, it's all downhill for the rest of the summer. And I'd like to start the downhill slalom with a deep and refreshed zen about me.

My question to you is, what kind of treatment would you get if you could have anything at Cloud 9 you wanted? I really want answers to this, because I'm definitely not the type to know what kinds of things to try.

How much does a crap load of blood weigh?

2009-06-11T07:35:00.000-07:00

Maintaining a specific weight is so much harder than I initially imagined.

I don't know that I'd say my body is used to losing weight now, because I have only lost 20 pounds. But apparently in losing that weight, I've boosted my metabolism or something. Here's the weirdness:

In an attempt to not lose any more weight between now and July 11 (because of Traci's wedding), I've changed some of my habits. I've cut back on my walks with the dogs. We still do outside yard adventures, but not so many walks. I haven't been to the gym in a week -- I'm pretty sure I'm going to change my routine for the time being to three times a week, every other week. And I'm a little less careful about what I'm eating. Lately I've been thinking this is too lax of a regimen.

This past weekend was bad though, I mean really bad. I spent all of Friday in the car, and dined on fast food for lunch and dinner (which makes me feel sick). Saturday was a bridal shower with the most delicious foods and cake, but before that I had Denny's for breakfast. And after, went to Red Lobster with my mom (although I got a small portion of shrimp because I was still pretty full from lunch, but knew I wouldn't make it through the night). And Sunday I had more fast food. Again, sickening. Especially considering I just watched Supersize Me recently.

So, I was kind of on the fence about getting back into my weigh-in routine this week. I just knew I'd wreaked havoc on my body in the past few days, you know? So Monday and Tuesday came and went without weigh-in. I wasn't too thrilled about weighing in on Wednesday, but knew if I got too far out of habit, I'd lose it completely, so I bit the bullet.

And strangely ... miraculously ... I hadn't gained an ounce. Literally. Not an ounce. I was the exact same weight I had been before I started this maintenance phase. Incredible.

Feeling pumped and still in control after all, I got on the scale again this morning to discovered I'd actually lost exactly one pound. Where did it go?! I'm not counting it as a pound lost because yesterday I donated a crap load of blood. Does a crap load of blood weigh a pound?

Random Photo Tuesday: Secret Places.

2009-06-10T05:42:00.000-07:00

Today I'm wearing a shirt that says "Stop the National Forests Giveaway." I traded a guy I know a white, and rather girl-ish, tank top for it during the Fest last year. So I decided I'd write about something environmental.

I'm not a globe trotter just yet -- some day, but not yet --But I have seen a fairly decent chunk of the country. And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the place this photo was taken is, and will always be, my favorite place in the world.

This place is located near my parents' house in the National Forest. This ledge I'm sitting on with my sister and friend is on the property adjacent to ours and it overlooks the breathtaking Rodman Reservoir. There's something about sitting on the edge of the water as the sun pours down into the reservoir, and the breeze rolls across the wide open, glassy surface that makes my life so much more worthwhile.

Lately I've been feeling a little... whelmed. Sometimes over, sometimes under - never perfectly in between. And I keep revisiting this photograph because it's as close as I can get to the real feeling of overall peace for the time being.

The next best thing? Laying in my bed in the early evening when the sun still coats my room in red through my heavy red curtains while listening to something like Corrine Bailey Rae. And still, this pales in comparison.

The reservoir:
a lush and thriving eco-system within an eco-system.
existing, bounteous fresh water source for Marion County, and potentially surrounding areas as well.
a source of family fun and recreation.

And on most quiet days, my place for decompression.

Just a few things...

2009-06-09T12:32:00.000-07:00

1. Went to my favorite deli two Fridays back to treat myself to my favorite lunch meal. I hadn't been in months and months because a.) I'm attempting to lose weight and b.) I'm attempting to save money. While I was standing at the counter ordering my usual, the ladies (who run the place) both noticed I'd lost weight. That felt so freaking good. Also when I left, one of the ladies' (whom are an older mother/daughter combo) husband was outside - like usual - reading his paper and he commented on how slim I look too. I wouldn't go so far as to say slim yet, but I do feel slimmER. Anyway, it was a totally awesome experience.

2. I disappeared two weekends ago. I got to go to Valdosta and go camping with Russ & Karolyn and Jon-Michael. And we all had a super awesome time. The camping was fun because we went with a bunch of Russ' Air Force friends. His boss cooked a pig on a giant grill. There were water balloon catapults, Frisbee, football, paddle boats, and riding a long board while sitting in a cooler. I loved it. The greatest thing was, we were in a completely different state, away from everyone we knew (except two people), but I was only 2 hours from home.

3. I've gotten to spend beaucoups of time with Detra and Nhyya recently. None of which was enough and each time I saw them, I cried when they left. I bought Nhyya her first baby doll. We went to Toys R Us and she picked out a 'bebe.' Before we got to the register, she was attached. She wouldn't even let it go long enough for the cashier to swip the bar code. When we were getting in our cars to go to dinner, she said my name and I teared up.

I have a few videos from dinner the night I bought her her baby, but I haven't figured out how to upload them. Also, when we were leaving dinner, Detra was trying to think of a name for Nhy's baby. She decided on Mere (pronounced Mary) to indirectly name her after me: Alison Meredith. I melted.

Here's a picture of Mere and Nhyya.

4. My mom and I drove to Fort Lauderdale on Friday to spend the weekend. The event we went down for was a bridal shower that I was partially hosting. I think it gets forgotten that I am completely UNfamiliar with wedding things. So this was the first time I was involved with the planning of a bridal shower. I think, thanks to Traci's family, it turned out really well.

I have to add to this later. It's time to go home.

and we rock, because it's us against them.
we found our own reasons to sing.
and it's so much less confusing when lines are drawn like that.
when people are either consumers or revolutionaries.
enemies or or friends hanging on the edges of the ...

Casting Call

2009-06-08T13:20:00.000-07:00

I need a date to a wedding.

I'm the Maid of Honor. I'll be wearing a beautiful, short, black dress with kitten heals, professional hair and make-up, and, of course, my usual sparkling white smile.

As my date, you should be handsome and intelligent and interested in dancing (primarily because I'll need to dance as part of my MOHly duties).

The wedding is in Tampa, July 11th.

You will have your choice of sea bass or filet mignon.

There is an open bar.

And hotel accommodations have been made, which means you can't be skeezy, because you'll be sharing a room with me.

Think about it. Get back to me.

Best FML ever.

2009-06-08T08:58:00.001-07:00

God forbid some trampy bitch does this to my future kid, I'll be this mom:

Today, I called my girlfriend to ask her to the movies. She declined and said she was sick and was going to sleep. Wanting to see the movie, I invited my mom and we went. My mom then pointed out my "sick" girlfriend making out with a guy. My mom threw a full bag of popcorn at her.

And to my future son, I apologize for embarrassing you. You'll thank me in the end.

Promises kept. Time well spent.

2009-06-03T12:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I said to all of my ONE reader (hey Samsmama!) that I would most definitely be putting pictures of Nhyya on here today. So when 4 PM rolled around and I realized I hadn't accomplished that. I swiftly quit doing what I get paid to do and started editing and uploading the pictures from my afternoon with Nhyya last week (my boss loves me, HA!). Here's what I have for you:

I asked her to smile, but she was so focused on the dogs, this is all I could get.

I should have known Blondie would give her some loving.
Don't worry, I sani-wiped her face down.

Lucy, the far less forward of the dynamic duo I constantly refer to as L&B, was a little off-put by the unrestrained presence of Nhyya, but when I hugged her close to me, Lucy came right over and sat down. This is the best picture I could get of the two of them. And yes, I realize Lucy has no head in this shot. It's hella hard to photograph a toddler AND a very UNphotogenic dog at the same time.

Whatchoo talkin' bout Willis?

This is so totally a shot of Angela and Nhyya. They were making funny faces at each other in Angela's parents' house. This was after Nhyya danced with Angela's two younger sisters to songs on Hollie's iPod.

Me and my girlie! I was tickling the crap out of her. hahahahaha. I'm terrible. In a good way.

In two hours I'm going to buy her her first baby doll and I'm really stoked. I've never felt like this before.

Sometimes 'see you soon' still hurts.

2009-06-02T07:26:00.000-07:00

Last week I picked Nhyya up from her house after work and we spent about 4 hours running errands. I'll post pictures of this tonight or tomorrow (I promise you want to see them). Nhyya, for those who don't know, is my goddaughter. She's the most amazing little girl I've ever known. And such a bright and intelligent human being.

I'm taking Nhyya and Detra out to a nice dinner tomorrow after I get out of work. And after that, I'm taking Nhyya to pick out her first baby doll. They're moving to California on Sunday and I'm emotionally overwhelmed by this. (I won't say distraught, because that would be dramatic, but I'm really, really, really, really upset.)

So you can get an idea of why I'd be sad, here's an old picture of Detra and Nhyya at a local pizza joint.

Random Photo Tuesday: this one time with Jay Leno.

2009-05-26T11:38:00.000-07:00

Flew to California with my sister & met up with a bunch of friends who'd flown from New Hampshire and New Mexico, to see the Price is Right a couple years ago (to bid adieu to Ol' Bobby Barker). While we were there, we went a Tonight Show taping.

I started to get the feeling, while we were in California, that all show tapings involve audience Q & A sessions in commercial breaks -- which is awesome. There were (as made apparent by the photograph) six of us at the Tonight Show, but despite our enthusiasm, we didn't get called on to ask him a question (although I had no idea what to ask had I been called on ... maybe something about chin implants?).

And of course we were kind of hoping to get some sort of interaction with him. And we really didn't want to go home disappointed. But as he did his sign-off, it became disappointingly clear we weren't going to get an opportunity to shake hands, high five, or make silly comments about his chin being much larger in person. boooooo.

As we're walking right past him -- AND HIS SECURITY GUARDS -- to exit the studio, Susan (my sister, and the girl on Jay's right) get's the idea to call his name.

Susan: "hey, Jay?"
Jay Leno: "hey!"
Susan: "Great show, we really enjoyed it. Could we take a picture with you?"
Jay Leno: "oh, thanks and of course. Come on up here, guys."

BOOYA!

So the six of us climb up on stage, remember SIX of us, and Jay Leno's assistant proceeds to tell us we're in the wrong place -- "I'm sorry, Mr. Leno isn't taking any photographs." So I said, "no, no. Jay invited us up here to take a picture." (also there on stage was Rosanne and some other people.) Assistant Asshat probably has a hellacious job of keeping Mr. Leno where he's supposed to be and making sure he stays on schedule, but that's not my fault. Susan asked, and he obliged. So yeah, we went over Assistant Asshat's head ... and yeah, she was definitely a little put off, but whatever.

Meanwhile, the entire studio is emptying out and people are clustering and gathering and loitering and gawking (which, I'm sure, is precisely why Assistant Asshat was opposed to our detouring Jay). I imagine some people were pissed that we were invited on stage simply by asking.

One middle-aged, scraggly woman was so hopeful to get a photograph with him, she even attempted to blend in with us and claim to a rather large security guard that she was in our party. It felt kind of fantastic to be asked by a security guard if she was "with us." And it felt ultra empowering to say "No sir, only these five people are with me."

He was totally cool too. He asked where we were all from; and then when he got such a varying response, he was curious how we knew each other. We had some general small talk and definitely some laughter. His suit was stiff -- like FRESHLY pressed. Super freshly. And look at him with his arm all draped over Susan's shoulder (also, Bob Barker hit on her).

So anyway, we held up his entire afternoon by stopping him long enough to take a picture, write down our address, and get him to sign a few things. In the eyes of his assistant, I bet those brief moments threw off his entire day.

Again though, not my problem. Thanks to Susan's giant balls and to Jay's total coolness level, we were able to get a photograph of all of us with him and his people mailed a copy for each of us. Too damn cool.

Yay California. Yay RPT.

Definitely a Top 10 experience for me. (and no, that wasn't a Letterman reference, although I do like him better...)

Thursday I was awesome.

2009-05-23T16:22:00.000-07:00

I haven't done a single thing today other than shower, sit with L&B outside for the five minutes it was actually sunny, and grill some hamburgers for me and Susan. I don't mind it this way. I really don't. It's been pretty damn nice actually not having anything to do.

But I want to talk about Thursday. I got on some kind of thrilling energy swing on Thursday. I did 100 wall push-ups and 20 crunches AT WORK. After work, I took the dogs for a 15 minute brisk walk around the neighborhood, then went for a four mile bike ride before running my errands. And then! After my errands I went the gym to sweat out in the sauna and do ten power laps in the pool.

I've never felt so powerful.

The cyclist nod.

2009-05-22T08:15:00.000-07:00

I love this so much I have to RT (retweet for those who do not tweet), but if I do, it's goes over the max 140 characters. So I'm putting it here.

"The nod...when I"m out cycling and someone goes past it's like "hey, we're doing awesome things let's be friends for a second"

This RT comes from a blog called 1000 Awesome Things. It's pretty neat really. And I only discovered it because I read this guy: Rob Anderson, who's latest blog is called 100 Awful Things (yes, an intentional opposition to the 1000 Awesome Things).

I'm going to make my own lists (of both) some day -- probably the same day I do this: Sorry Samsmama, eventually I'll get around to it. I promise. Pinky swear even.

Anyway, enough of the back story.

Here's why I love this one-liner from 1000 Awesome Things.

Yesterday I was riding my bike (I'm writing more about yesterday after I finish this blog) and as neared the railroad tracks that I mentally mark as my official transition into 'downtown riding,' I could hear conversation being maintained behind me. I rarely encounter other cyclists while I ride, so I looked back to see two pros gradually gaining on me (I call anyone in spandex and an aerodynamic helmet a pro).

Surprise. On the rare occasion that I do see a fellow cyclist, he or she more on the homeless/never-shower/don't own deodorant side than the side that these boys were on. And for a half a second I felt kind of embarrassed to be on my purple Huffy, in jeans and a t-shirt as they cruised closer to me all decked out in legitimate cycling gear. Can you say intimidating?

The cool part was they didn't laugh (like I imagined they would). They gave that nod the writer of the one-liner mentions and then they actually stopped their conversation and had a quick one with me. I felt like part of something bigger than just riding my bike to town. I felt like part of a community or world of people who cycle for recreation and fitness. It's the first time that's happened. And as silly as it seems. It was empowering.

On a less significant scale, I make every attempt to wave and nod at everyone I pass or everyone who goes out around me while I'm riding. The people in my neighborhood actually know me know for riding my bike and walking my dogs now. And I've meet a couple people who work next door because I cross the street as they're pulling the parking lot. I make all attempts to converse with the people in our neighborhood. And I'm happy they're willing to nod and wave back.

So I'm a geek.

2009-05-22T07:13:00.000-07:00

Every single day at work I get beckoned to someone else's desk to type their thoughts out into an email or a letter or some kind of contract. It doesn't really bother me because I actually really love typing.

Yesterday a friend of mine and I were having a conversation via YahooIM (yeah, I use that) and she made some comment about how quick I am to respond to her with entire paragraphs of conversation... haha. woopsie.

Then this morning my boss had me sit at his computer and type a letter he was dictating to me. I was typing faster than he was thinking. And that kind of makes me chuckle.

Anyway, curiosity got the best of the entire office apparently because when I turned around, the whole staff was watching me type his letter (the whole staff, mind you, is like four people).

They caved and someone finally asked about how many minutes I thought I typed per minute and I had absolutely no clue. But I'm a google-fiend and immediately found a free wpm test online. Here's my first shot (granted, my hands were definitely warmed up):

84 words

Typingtest

How fast are your fingers?

"I never said I was a role model"

2009-05-21T13:17:00.000-07:00

This will probably always be my favorite SNL skit. I have such great respect for Natalie Portman. She's such a great sport. (this is inspired by LOTD's recent post of Natalie on Between Two Ferns.)

"No more questions."

Like Katherine Heigl, I'm working my way to 27 dresses...

2009-05-21T12:31:00.000-07:00

Went to Tampa to pick up a Maid of Honor dress on Saturday. This is the dress (but mine is black): xr.com/czn

I've lost twenty pounds since I ordered the dress, although I'm still not convinced that's noticeable. For the most part, all my old clothes still fit. I'll get into this later.

I had convinced myself that the 20 pounds would make no difference with this dress. And then I put it on. As I walked out of the fitting room, Traci's mom looked at me and said "you'll definitely need alterations," as she pinched an inch of fabric together on either side of my torso. She said the next size down, however, would probably be too small in the bust.

I got redressed and then went to the alterations fitting room with Traci to get her into her wedding dress. Once she was in her dress, I thought about that smaller size a little more.

The way David's Bridal (DB) is set up, they typically have various collection of sizes in the store, but they may not have your particular color. So while we were waiting, I thought why not try on the smaller size to make sure it doesn't fit before I get committed to spend a fortune on alterations. So I went back to the rack, found ONE in the right size and in my style, tried it on, and it fit like a glove!

I repacked the original dress (that I hadn't even taken out of the store yet) and walked up to the front of the store wearing the glove-like fitting one. DB has a return/exchange policy clearly stated, but I'm not above asking for a favor. And the original one had never even been taken out of the store.

The clerk assisting me was very understanding and actually high-fived me for losing 20 pounds. Then she explained she couldn't override the exchange policy, but she'd ask her manager. When the manager looked over to me, wearing the other dress, she actually said, "wow, it fits wonderfully!" (she's British, it's cute) and then said she couldn't see punishing me for losing the weight and to go ahead and exchange the original for one size smaller!

My new dress will be here before June 26th, which is a darn good thing because the wedding is July 11.

But what this means is that I cannot afford to gain OR lose any more weight between now and July 11. My dress fits **perfectly** as it is. As disappointed as I want to be about this new challenge, I'm trying to look at the bright sides:

1. I've dropped a dress size!
2. I'll get plenty of practice maintaining my weight.
3. I've hit a plateau anyhow, this way I don't have to beat myself up over it.
4. I don't have to feel obligated to lose more before the wedding.

What this means is I need to focus on maintaining my current habits of riding my bike (when the sky isn't crying) regularly (after I get a helmet, of course), going to the gym two + times a week, and eating the healthiest options I can find... SOMETIMES.

Maintaining my weight is going to be trickier than I thought. Just this morning I woke up and had lost two pounds since the beginning of the week... yipes.

How desperate am I, that I'm actually considering this...

2009-05-21T09:44:00.000-07:00

as a form of supplementary income:

Imaginary Girlfriends.

My friends are better than your friends.

2009-05-21T06:35:00.000-07:00

My good friend Melissa sent me a care package from California. UPS takes forever, but it finally arrived yesterday. It's all stuff from Trader Joe's because the closest one to me is in Atlanta. Uhm... get to Florida, please?

So the box she sent has all sorts of cool food stuff in it:
Stevia extract packets (which I've been curious to try)
dried blueberries
dry roasted sliced almonds
sweetened ginger chips
mixed wild mushroom medley
dried passion fruit candy bar
No-Pudge Fudge brownie mix (!!!!)
green tea mints
AND...
almost all of Hungry Girl in CD format!

Angela: this is sooo me.

2009-05-18T12:20:00.000-07:00

I read a site called Texts From Last Night. If you don't, you're truly missing out. But I found this one while I was going pages and pages back in the archives. I died laughing.

(731): I just ate 10 fun sized 3 musakteers.. I'm pretty sure I'm about to start my period.
(601): Talk to you next week

Here's to you, kid.

2009-05-15T18:19:00.000-07:00

Because I don't have any other photos of us on my laptop, here's a screen shot of a picture of Susan, Ryan, and myself after a dinner at 'Your Neighborhood Applebee's.'

Ryan and I met a few years ago through a college newspaper class. He was responsible for updating the newspaper's website; but aside from that, was not part of the course. I was a new student, and objected to the seemingly blase attitude our teacher had toward Ryan's absences, despite his strict attendance policy for the rest of the students.

It wasn't until I cornered Ryan, still virtual strangers, and asked what his "deal" was that I actually learned he wasn't really a student in the class. That explained the teacher's indifference. And Ryan earned the new nickname, "Phantom" for the simple fact that no one ever witnessed his presence, but there were always signs that he had recently been present.

That was several years ago, and since then we've continually grown closer. These days he's one of my best friends -- one I talk to routinely and one of very few that knows pretty much everything there is to know about me (everything interesting and important anyway).

About two years ago (I think) I approached him about writing a program that my employer could use to track their members' contact information and work history. He and I put our heads together and he ended up writing a program that the labor union I work for can no longer function without.

About two days ago he graduated as an Electrical Engineer from the University of Central Florida and began his latest journey with a brand new employer -- where he'll have his own office, with his name on the door, and two interns working for him (eventually) in Huntsville.

So here I sit, reflecting on that last few years; thinking about how our friendship has changed me and, actually, even opened doors career-wise for me. I think about the things I probably wouldn't know or have ever considering learning if it weren't for him, for his willingness to learn things, and for his confidence that if I want to learn something, I can. He's beyond fathomably intelligent, and that's not even to toot his horn (he'll do that himself). He's beyond fathomably intelligent, yet he's more capable than anyone else I know of putting things in the simplest terms for someone less intelligent to understand (someone like me, for instance -- although I'm not too terribly unintelligent myself -- toot, toot.).

I think about what it was like when he lived in Gainesville. We went to the O'Dome to watch the Gators National Championship game on the big screens with tens of thousands of other students and fans. Sometimes we'd get together with friends and do nothing. I remember sitting in his Gainesville apartment listening to him read Chuck Norris facts aloud.

We've never had one of those friendships that required activities. Although our trip to Busch Gardens, Tampa was fun and eye-opening. Going to Busch Gardens with Ryan, an electrical engineer, means if you're remotely interested in the logistics and physics of roller coasters (like I am), he'll gladly explain things to you. For me, this means I'll never visit a roller coaster park and view things the same way. In this sense, and others, Ryan has forever changed me.

But now he's earned himself this amazing opportunity to do the precise line of work he wants to do and he's moving nine hours away. And what does he do? He gets a 2/2 apartment so that WHEN his friends come visit, there'll be an extra place to sleep. Apparently he knows me too well, because there's no question I'm coming to see him the first chance I get.

I sit here and think about all that he's accomplished in his life thus far and I can't think of anyone else in my life, my age, that compares. I don't think there is such a person. He inspires, and will continue to do so -- even from Huntsville. Because a nine hour drive isn't going to keep us from being friends.

As crappy as it is that one of my best friends is moving nine hours away, I can't complain. He's getting ready to live his dream... or one of them. He's accomplished so much and worked hard to reach this place and I could never be so selfish to wish he didn't move.

I'm so proud of him, that even as a fan of the English language, I cannot find words.

Here's to you, Ryan.

xoxo, I'll see you in Huntsville.

Satisfied.

2009-05-14T12:49:00.000-07:00

1. Today Travis, Heidi, and Susan are coming over to the house to have cheeseburgers off the grill and play some board games. We like wholesome fun like that.

2. My boss is going to a meeting tonight to officially approve reimbursing me the $350 for the web programming class. If you've been following awhile, you know what that means. That means I've launched the new site for the labor union and am finally the webmaster here. When I created the site, I thought it was awesome, but the more I look at it now, the more I think I could have done more. But consider it just launched at the beginning of the month, it's probably best to not refurb it so soon. =] Here it is if you want to take a look: www.ibew222.org.

3. I am 100 % satisfied, and quite pleasantly surprised with the new design of my blog. It's way cooler than anything else I've used or had or made. =]

I'm hoping some time soon I'll have something legitimately worth your while to say. But for now, I'm lacking inspiration. Sorry, kids.

Still not happy.

2009-05-14T06:23:00.000-07:00

I am still so unhappy with the format of my blog.

My bff, Patrick, has a tumblr and I love the way it works. I love it a lot actually. So today I'm attempting to put my finger on the specific things I love about it and recreate them for my blog here. I just don't want to move again. UGH.

So don't be surprised if you stop by some time soon and things look different ... again.

Someone busier than you is running right now.

2009-05-13T06:36:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make to my spark buddy, Melissa: I did not go for a run last night.

I'm terrible, I know.

Here's what else I know:
1. I have never made such great progress in getting into shape as I did when I was jogging regularly.
2. My knee starts to stay in a constant state of noticeable discomfort after I've jogged for over a week.
3. I miss the liberating feeling of running.
4. I miss the empowerment of cross-training (biking, swimming, running)

So I've been perusing the intarwebz for motivational media this morning. And while I hate Nike for their shoddy work ethic, jacked up prices, and apparently tiny clothes, I love them for their motivational material. I just have yet to find any media more inspiring to me than the following advertisements.

And ...

"I am addicted. I've collected footsteps before dawn. Seen places I never knew existed. Run to the moon and back. Been a rabbit for the neighborhood dogs. Obeyed the voice in my head. Let music carry me when I couldn't. Raced against yesterday. Let the world be my witness. Measured myself in meters, kilometers,
and finally character. I've plugged into a higher purpose. Left this world and come back changed. I am addicted. "

Best of all, there are these still ads that make me feel like I have absolutely no excuse to sit here and twiddle my thumbs.

Coming across this next ad made me happy. Now I am reminded I can be an athlete and still have a little thickness to me. So maybe I want to lose a significant amount of weight, it doesn't mean I want to be a stick. I just want to be fit. Here:

The next one is for the people who may still not understand why I do what I do. It's for everyone who looks at a runner and wonders what exactly is off in their head. This one is for the old me -- the me that used to roll my eyes when I saw someone jogging down the street. Now I'm on the other side of that awkward glance. Now I know what it felt like, so because of that, this is for all the runners I scoffed at years back.

(I get it now.)

The last one I'm sort of on the fence about. I wish the wording were different. I don't like the idea of running away from problems; in fact, I'm actively fighting against that mentality with someone in my life right this very moment. BUT I have realized that when I'm running, my head is more clear than any other time. I think that says something.

I think feeling the blood course through my veins awakens my clarity and my reflectiveness and my overall zen and positivity. Am I running away from my problems? Not at all. I'm just running away from what I once perceived as a solution while I run toward and into the new-found clarity that'll help me make the best decision I can with the clearest most objective mind possible.

I'm sick of excuses.

Yeah, my knee hurts. So what?

When I can't run anymore, I'll bike.
And when biking gets too hard for the time being, I'll swim.
And by the time I'm tired of swimming, my knee will have had plenty of rest.

(since I started this blog, I spoke to Melissa. She asked if I ran. When I told her I didn't she was upset with me. Last night she was exhausted and feeling kind of under the weather ... she didn't want to run, but she remember that we were supposed to run 'together' -- she lives on the west coast. I let her down badly and I can't let that happen a second time.)

blaaaaaahahahhhh.

2009-05-12T11:26:00.000-07:00

It's only Tuesday and here's how my week is tentatively looking:

Monday:
work.
karaoke.

Tuesday:
work.
make more invitations.
and a congratulations card.
fish tank cleaning spree.
bike ride.
Applebees.

Wednesday:
work.
bike ride.
Traci's house to organize wedding stuff.
sleep.

Thursday:
work.
Travis and Heidi come over for dinner.
Grey's Anatomy season finale.

Friday:
work.
Then absolutely nothing, I hope.

Saturday:
Tampa to get my MOH dress and see Traci try on her dress.
Potential BBQ late.

Sunday:
Busch Gardens.

Monday:
work.
karaoke.
sleep.

Random Photo Tuesday.

2009-05-12T06:31:00.000-07:00

So whatever. I'm starting something new. I need to feel inspired.

I've been spending a lot of time looking at my own myspace profile lately. I'm trying to decide if I should keep it. This morning I realized this staggering factoid:

I have 99 pages of photographs within my Myspace account. Ninety-nine pages of 20 photos each. Holy Hell. For that fact alone, I can't just get rid of my Myspace account.

At the same time, I'm such a nomadic networker; I have accounts with all of these sites:

xanga (yeah yeah, I know.)
livejournal
myspace
facebook
blogger (obviously)
twitter
interpals
postcrossing
sparkpeople

The first two are the only two that I don't currently log into regularly.

So I decided I'll do a neat little memory exercise and share stories with you lovely readers at the same time.

Here goes RPT #1:

This is Susan, my older sister. We spent last Christmas at the beach and it was beautiful. I think it was our best Christmas experience yet and I hope we make it a tradition. But anyway... the day we left, we decided to feed the sea gulls the last of our cinnamon rolls.

Those bastards are quick. We walked out on the balcony and there were no birds in sight. Our brother threw one small piece of food out over the parking lot and before it hit the pavement, a gull plucked it right out of the air. And before he could make it to our balcony, there was an entire flock dipping and diving for our treats.

On top of being quick, I now see (not that I didn't think much of it before) why it's so important NOT to litter. If sea gulls are any example of the way wildlife behaves in general, I can now see how easily they could ingest something as toxic as plastic or chemicals. The gull that dropped out of the sky and snatched the cinnamon roll had no idea what he was eating before he swallowed it. There's just no way.

So anyway, we fed the birds off our balcony -- over a parking lot, mind you.

We are apparently assholes though. We were about ten floors up, and definitely NOT above the pool area. I could have dropped my bag into the bed of JM's truck from the balcony and he was in the middle of the parking lot. But while we were out there, a foreign woman sunbathing at the pool said,

"hello up there, quit feeding those birds. they'll poop on me."

And even though we heard her loud and clear, we acted as if we couldn't so that she's repeat the "they'll poop on me" part again. Then we laughed our asses off and continued feeding the birds until our snacks were gone.

Forgetful Friday is actually being finished on Monday...

2009-05-08T12:12:00.001-07:00

And how fitting, really.

Let's make a list .... because really, who doesn't love lists?

1. first of all, it's been a hella long week. (last week)

2. I had dinner with a few friends Thursday night. Travis made lasagna. It was a simple evening hanging out, tucked under the coffee table watching dirty jobs from behind a heaping plate of mouth-watery goodness. And honestly, I couldn't have asked for more.

3. My sister's neighbor, Johnnie, really wants to see a beach, have a BBQ, and ride roller coasters before he leaves Gainesville for good. (he's a grad student from Denmark). We're working on figuring out the logistics of these things. He leaves at the end of the month, so we're going to have a busy May.

4. Tonight I'm going to karaoke with Susan and Johnnie. He promised he'd sing. I'm eager to witness that.

5. There's a shuttle launch about to happen here and from my office -- one of the perks of living in central Florida -- you can see it taking off. I'm looking forward to that.

6. My friend Traci is getting married in July. I'm her MOH and it's all getting very nerve-wracking. I'm pretty sure I'm the least stressed of all involved, and I'm about as frazzled as I've ever been, so I can imagine how she and her mom are handling things.

7. I started a project at the beginning of the year called 365 Photography Project. Sometime last month I quit participating and I feel really badly about that. I'm aiming to get back into it today because I'm going through all the photos I took over the weekend. =] Here's hoping.

Repost from List of the Day.

2009-05-05T13:09:00.000-07:00

I don't repost many of Cary's posts because it's generally hard for me to decide which ones are my favorites. However, this particular video made me laugh so hard I was crying and couldn't breath at work.

The tubby little bastard really has a penchant for boxes apparently. I want a cat this fat.

The Return of Box Cat - watch more funny videos

Cinco De Mustache.

2009-05-05T09:42:00.000-07:00

Ay, ay, ay-ay!
Cinco De Mustache.
The kids that are hip, they grow hair on their lip.
They throw out their razors, they don't give a shit.
It's grows, and grows, and grows.
So let your mustache show.

I'm serving up tacos at my house tonight. mmm.

Something borrowed, something blue.

2009-05-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

Karolyn posted this after she and Russ' wedding. Probably the single decent picture of me that exists from that night. I never know how to just take a nice, classy picture.

I'm the one without the tie on.

Laughter, it's free.

2009-04-30T11:26:00.000-07:00

1. I start my 100 Push-up Challenge on Monday. I can't lie, I'm pretty damn scared. But I do love seeing how hard I can push myself.

2. I will not give any bums money today. I cannot afford it.

3. I'm typing this from work, and while I do, there's a boy sleeping in my bed. Oh how I wish I were there.

4. I'm supposed to go to the gym again tonight. Every night this week is the goal (although I ruined it right off the bat by not going on Monday night). I think my arms are so tired of swimming.

5. My co-worker is putting me in his vice grip about selling a computer program designed by me and created by my friend Ryan. He says "I don't know why I'd need to force someone to become a millionaire." I scoffed, but in reality, I hope that happens.

6. After several attempts at replicating the beautifully intricate design of Traci's bridal shower invitations, I think I've decided hand-painting them will be best.

Understanding the assignment.

2009-04-30T06:24:00.000-07:00

Originally posted by Silica on Tumblr.
________________________________

_______________________________________________________

Couldn't have said it better.

Today . . .

2009-04-30T06:09:00.000-07:00

I decided I'm going to make 50 cards with 50 happy sayings on them to leave behind in random places over the course of the following few days.

It feels good to do good, so hopefully I won't get cited for littering.

Bums talking politics.

2009-04-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

For now I don't want to go all politico on anyone -- I'm feeling anti-opinionated today. But I have to tell this story.

In between my work and my house, which are probably about 15 miles apart, there are easily 8 - 10 homeless people asking for help, food, water, work, anything they can get. And generally, I see no one offer up any assistance.

Today I gave a guy $2. When I handed it to him, he said the standard, "thanks and God bless you" that you generally hear in these instances. Then as he was walking away he said, "I'm a freaking vet. I served four years in Iraq. I'm a vet and I'm on the streets, begging for money." That's when I really assessed the situation. He didn't have a backpack, no drink, no pile of belongings. He did have, however, a prosthetic foot and the inside of a mountain dew box with his begging written on it.

That's when I said, "I get angry at our country for this very reason. I'm sorry." And then my light turned green and I left. But as soon as I pulled away from that light, I knew I was forgetting something -- I didn't thank him. I went home, sort of with a pit in my stomach for not thanking a man who probably lost his foot fighting for my right to healthcare to ensure I don't have to lose mine... and things like that.

I went home, which was only a minute further down the road, filled a giant gatorade bottle with water, loaded L&B into my car, and headed back that way.

This time I pulled into the turn lane next to him, held the bottle of water out the window and said, "sorry I didn't say thanks the first time. This is all I can afford to give. Thanks for fighting for your country and I'm sorry your country isn't returning the favor."

He reached out, took the bottle of water, said something about how no one had ever stopped twice and given him something, how that meant a lot, and how he hoped one day his country would actually take care of him the way he'd taken care of it.

Then, I shit you not, he stopped mid-sentence, looked at the Obama sticker on the side window of my car, and said "there's gonna be a revolution. They're going to kill Obama." And then frowned.

The light turned green, naturally. But before I went, I said, "I hope that doesn't happen, but in the event it does, I hope he can save you first." And then I left.

I'm still perplexed. I guess I'll just leave it at that.

Flattering, but still awkward.

2009-04-29T11:35:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure I'll ever know how to properly take compliments.

This went down earlier today.

(11:27:52 AM) TT: I hear you've lost 20 lbs.
(11:27:55 AM) TT: I hate you and I'm jealous.
(11:29:33 AM) TT: and i have to say, P-- and I have even discussed it randomly, the long hair and the contacts? super hot
(11:29:40 AM) moi: HAHAHA.
(11:29:53 AM) moi: wow. You and P-- discuss how hot I am.
(11:29:55 AM) moi: that's a riot.
(11:30:19 AM) TT: i'm serious. I've never seen that side of you! Normally you're quirky and fun and friendly, but that day with the hair down and the contacts? You were like ultra feminine hot chick.
(11:30:35 AM) moi: weeeee!
(11:30:38 AM) TT: I mean you're STILL quirky and fun and friendly, but I saw the sexpot side of you and i liked it!
(11:30:45 AM) moi: HAHAHA
(11:30:46 AM) TT: i think it should be out and about more often
(11:31:12 AM) TT: i just had to tell you, even my Mom has randomly brought it up.
(11:31:31 AM) moi: geesh.
(11:31:38 AM) moi: i'm so flattered. =]
(11:32:31 AM) TT: don't be flattered. be completely bored with hearing it because you already know that you're hotness embodied.
(11:32:37 AM) TT: haha
(11:32:42 AM) moi: whatever.
(11:32:47 AM) moi: I'm quirky and weird.
(11:32:56 AM) TT: yes, and a sexpot.
(11:33:02 AM) moi: AHAHA. i can't even take you seriously.
(11:33:05 AM) moi: this is absurd.

What did the rug say to the floor?

2009-04-21T18:27:00.000-07:00

I'm just going to bust out and say it... I don't have anything to say.

So it's list time again.

1. Against Me! I thought about it and thought about it and really... it's not able to be summed up in a blog. I saw them two weekends ago and still have a certain amount of euphoria clouding me. And I'm supremely happy about that.

I met new -- and entirely temporary -- friends at that show. A group of guys (and a couple girls) struck up conversation with me at the bar and we spent most of the evening hanging out, sipping beer, and talking about music and the movie Independence Day. It was easily a far better time than I would have had if I hadn't made any friends.

2. I've had a handful of people offer to help me get my foot in the door with TOEFL & international schools. In fact, the sister of my co-worker returned last night from China and she said you don't even need a teaching degree -- just certification with TOEFL. She told her brother -- my co-worker -- that in China, where she's teaching, there's a teacher who's contract ends in June. Essentially she said if I passed my TOEFL exam I could be teaching in China in two months. WTF! I'm pretty sure it'll take longer to get my passport!

To think I could be living in a foreign country, teaching English by next year really blows my mind. I never expected that to be the case. And that brings me to the question what would I do with L&B? As much as it blows my mind that I could live in a foreign country, I cannot wrap my mind around leaving my girls behind. I wouldn't even think of it.

Which brings me back to the original plan of staying here, getting a teaching degree, and sticking within the states for awhile. And by 'awhile,' I morbidly mean until L& B kick the bucket, which will, in all honesty, probably destroy me.

3. I'm set up to photograph a married/pregnant couple this weekend for a small fee. I'm looking forward to it, but really feel like I haven't quite done all my research. I've never done belly shots, or pregnancy pictures. The closest thing I've done to this is engagement photos; which in no way involved a belly -- just a couple. I can do it though. He's someone I know from high school, so it should set up to be a totally comfortable experience. Yay for fluffing my portfolio.

And, a friend asked me about photographing her wedding on 10.10.10. While it is far away, it's nice to make plans. I told her yes already. Friends are important to me.

And, I have my flight for the August NH wedding booked. I'm flying up on Friday and flying back on Monday. Both morning flights. I'm pretty sure Jones & Isiac are picking me up from the airport -- I look forward to that. It's been too long since the three of us were spent any significant quality time together. And this'll be Isiac's last single days. Not that I'm complaining, I love his future wife; she's perfect and totally amazing. But nothing's ever going to be like it once was. Just seems fitting that they'll be picking me up. And from what the blushing bride says, Jones will probably be taking me back to the airport; Isiac'll be married on his honeymoon by then I hope, so he'll be preoccupied.

If I end up counting on Jones, I won't help but think about that time he drove from California to New Hampshire and attempted to pick me up from the airport in Manchester, only to forget to calculate one time zone and be waaaay off track. I love telling that story because as much as I love some of my friends that were currently in New Hampshire, it baffles me that it took something like three hours for them to tell me they couldn't come get me when Jonesy was totally attempting to drive literally across the country to pick me up. Becky saved my day though, and came to pick me up when my other friend flaked; I won't name him. And it turned out to be a superb bonding experience for she and I.

One last thing about photography. My co-worker, the one with the sister who teaches in China (which is by no means where I want to be), also is an avid supporter of my photography business. He has a small collection of original pieces hanging in his house already and, just this morning, asked for three more. It's awesome really. He also has five or six custom desktops for his laptop of mine. Makes me feel quite like a successful photographer.

4. The 365 Photography Project is going on without me and it's kind of starting to hurt. I can't figure out why I'm in such a slump these days. Is there really nothing to photograph?! I've been out on several bike rides and never once seen anything worth photographing?! WTF? It's a project I started as a new year's resolution and I just can't keep it going. But Christina and Mat Ryan, and a couple other friends are successfully posting their photographs regularly. I admire it and do aim to get back involved. I just haven't felt motivated at all. Maybe next year I'll successfully update daily for all 365 days.

5. L&B have been venturing out in the yard without leashes the past couple days. It makes me feel good, but paranoid at the same time. I live between two highly traveled roads and the thought of seeing one my dogs hit or get hit by a car terrifies me. And yes, we have a fence. But fences haven't always stopped them in the past. And they're not used to boundaries -- what growing up for almost 8 years on six acres with no rules and NO roads -- they develop habits. I can't blame them. But it's taking time and patience for them to learn they aren't allowed near the gates. And they need to stay within my vision range while they're off their leashes. They're figuring it out. And honestly, I don't think they'd necessarily run from me, but if they saw a squirrel, which will undoubtedly one day happen, they will run for it.

6. Last item: Karolyn's wedding. I went on Saturday. Karo is JM's sister. She's a very dear friend of mine and I love her and Russ to pieces. It was, I initially thought, going to be quite an awkward experience. But I realized shortly after arriving that I pretty much had the upper hand. Everyone actually did want me there. It was nice. And all the hype I'd built up in my head about how awkward it would be to be JM's ex-girlfriend and be at his sister's wedding was truly just hype.

The fact is, his family loves me. He does too, but that's not the issue I'm discussing. His family loves me. I like to consider them part of my family and I'm glad I didn't miss the most important day of Karo's life thus far. She looked radiant and breathtakingly beautiful. I can't even fairly put it into words. Just classy and gorgeous. And we had so much fun at the reception. I danced more than I think I ever have and I felt so at home with her and all her friends. Some day maybe I'll get around to writing an entire entry about Karo and how much she means to me and what she's kind of taught me over the past three years. She deserves that, but it's not happening to night. It's officially 1130 and I really need to be in bed. You're lucky I wrote this much. I'm feeling very uninspired lately.

I'm not perfect either.

2009-04-13T07:53:00.000-07:00

I think it's time to address something relevant.

Jon-Michael's sister and my very good friend, Karolyn, is getting married this weekend. And I'll be attending her wedding. Our mutual friend, Vania, is having a party in May, which I'm fully expecting J.M. to attend because I don't know why it would happen any other way.

Whether I end up ever holding his hand again or not, one thing is for certain - our lives are forever intertwined. Unless one of us decided to put distance between us and the core group of friends we share, we will inevitably find ourselves in positions of interaction. And if either of us was the kind of person who would be willing to wash their hands of their closest friends over a relationship fiasco, we would never have dated each other to begin with.

It should be said now that as angry as I was, I still stand by his decision. In that moment and the moments leading up to it, he did what he thought was best. And I can't argue with that logic. I still believe if he had actually talked to me, it would never have happened -- better, if he had actually driven to my house like we had planned that night, it definitely wouldn't have happened. But neither of those scenarios change the fact that he thought about it, that he felt in his heart of hearts that dumping me was best for him, for whatever reason. And that may be something I'll never understand. Maybe I have to come to terms with that, and I may never agree with his logic, but the fact that he thought it was best, is all I have to go on.

I stand by everything I wrote here. And I strongly believe all of it needed to be said. And I felt better for saying it. But it comes down to this: as much as I am grateful for the friends I have that apparently are willing to go so far as to inflict physical harm on someone who hurts me, I don't perceive that as necessary. Not in this case, or any that involves Jon-Michael. If it were, I assure everyone, I'd gladly inflict the physical harm myself.

Also, there isn't any area of my life that welcomes trash talking. And as much as some friends may think it makes me feel better to listen to them slam someone I still love, it doesn't. That is entirely a myth. And it should be known now, that I don't want to hear it again. That I will defend him. That I will tell you to stfu. Because as much as you may think you know from reading my blog or consoling me when I'm crying, you don't know anything. And I can say that with the utmost confidence because I know I don't tell anyone everything.

Back to the issue at hand. I didn't stop caring about him. I still haven't. But there's a line to be drawn in the proverbial sand. How many of my wants do I let fall away in order to keep from making waves? And really, how long can that kind of behavior keep a pair truly happy. The answer is not long at all. One cannot be always giving while the other is always taking. So in part, this is my fault too. Although I feel like I was, at times, pulling teeth to get the simplest things.

I don't feel like the way I behaved after that phone call was an overreaction. I feel like if I'd have reacted any differently, he certainly wouldn't get anything resolved within himself; as it stands now, whether he resolves anything or not is unclear to me.

I can be totally honest here and clarify that since the day I met him, I have cared more for his happiness than my own. I am an optimistic enough person to maintain overall happiness, even when things directly related to me are falling apart. It just doesn't take much to make me happy.

Even when it was heart-wrenchingly difficult, knowing this about myself, and knowing the foundations laid in his youth -- things he would someday need to overcome -- helped me eventually get through any rifts between us.

To be objective here, I can't say I've ever known someone who had such an easy time making such an obscene mess of things, yet been so willing and so hopeful to rectify the damages he's done. I wonder how many women HOPE to be loved by a man so afraid of life without her that he sometimes takes severely wrong steps and then fights so hard to repair the damage made.

And I wonder how many wrong steps I should allow him to come back from. And I wonder if the wrong steps I have made are too often overlooked. I am not perfect either.

creeeeeepers

2009-04-12T16:50:00.001-07:00

A count down of the top three creepers in the last two days:

3. Jason (a past trumpet player from Ten 13 Concept) -- It's Easter, I've spent the whole day visiting people and wearing dress clothes. I get home at about 7, sit down at the computer, log onto AIM and get an IM from a vaguely familiar screen name. I asked my sister if she remembered it. She did. This guy is someone I literally hardly know. He took the place of one of my best friends in a band that I did promotions for several years ago. When he came into the band, my participation began to dwindle. Like I said, I hardly knew him. This is how the conversation went:

Creeper (7:43:29 PM): hey

Me (7:44:11 PM): hi...

Creeper (7:44:22 PM): how r ya

Me (7:44:28 PM): i forget your first name.

Me (7:44:32 PM): i'm fine. happy easter.

Me (7:44:34 PM): how are you?

Creeper (7:44:42 PM): same jason urs?

Me (7:44:52 PM): T13C trumpet, right?

Me (7:44:56 PM): Alison.

Creeper (7:45:14 PM): ahhhhhh hey

Me (7:45:43 PM): oh hello. what are you up to these days?

Creeper (7:45:57 PM): nadda ne pics or cam?

Me (7:46:08 PM): what?

Me (7:46:11 PM): definitely not.

Creeper (7:46:22 PM): dont remember what u look like

Me (7:46:30 PM): oh geesh.

Me (7:46:54 PM): i have pictures on my facebook and that's about it.

Me (7:47:24 PM): i'm not high tech enough to do much with pictures and definitely don't care about webcams.

Me (7:56:42 PM): Yep, good talking to you too.

2. The dad of a friend of mine told me recently that if he were available he'd marry me. That came after he told me I "sure [was] beautiful." Barf.

And the winner is...

1. Last night I went to Common Grounds (I'll get to blogging about that later, after I've come off the high of seeing Against Me!), I sat at the bar on the Porch, drinking my PBR. When it was about half gone I got up and went inside, scanned the crowd, texted a couple people, and finished off my beer.

I went back outside, got another beer, and texted the same couple people again. I made friends with some guys and went back inside. Those guys and I parted ways. I was standing, again with my beer in one hand and my phone in the other and these two guys walk up to me.

I wish I had recorded this conversation. I obviously didn't, but it went something like this.

Dude: hi there.

Me: hi.

Dude: You must be really smart. Genius maybe?

Me: I guess that'd be a fact. How could you tell? Was it my ratty flannel and jeans with paint on them, or was it my side-swept hair and librarian glasses?

Dude: No, no. I spotted you from across the room and could tell by the way you carried yourself that you must be really damn smart. I bet you scored real high on your SATs.

(this is when I look around the room and realize there're about 80 teen girls and boys standing around. what is this guy's deal?!)

Me: I did ... several years ago.

Dude: This is my friend Jonathan.

Eventually Against Me! starts and Dude jumps into the pit. I'm standing there, I've finished my beer and Jonathan is sort of ... hovering to my right. I'm in a state of euphoria I haven't felt in years; I have my hands on my head and I'm singing as loud as I fucking can while grinning from ear to ear. As I bring my arms down to my sides, my right arm collides with Jonathan's left arm, which is heading directly for my side. And he goes for it. He puts his fucking hand on my goddamn hip. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

I turned to my right and said, "excuse me," as I pivoted on my heel and walked right the fuck away. I found the boys from outside and spent the rest of the night not too terribly far from them. Then I feel a tap on the inside of my right arm, between my shoulder and elbow. I turn, and surprise surprise, it's Jonathan. He motions for me to come with him. uh... hellfuckno. And so he just stood there. He just stood there while I ignored him. I went so far as to put my arms around the necks of the friendly, normal guys (the ones that didn't touch me inappropriately), and they put their arms around me -- but kept their hands on my shoulders (which is totally acceptable in this environment). I hate people touching me when it's uninvited ... or fucking sneaky.

BARF.

Top Five Things on My Mind

2009-04-09T10:12:00.000-07:00

1. I need a hair cut.

Not so much for a change of style, but to improve the condition of my hair. It's getting kind of ratty on ends. For the new friends I've made, it's important to clarify that I damage the shit out of my hair on a regular basis. From the beginning of high school (nine years ago), I've dyed and bleached my hair countless times. And generally I'd grow it out, cut it off, donate it, and start all over again. I'm at the start all over again stage now. It's longer than it's been in awhile, and I like that, but the ends are getting kinda shitty. Time for a trim. "Hello, Hair Cuttery? Can you squeeze me in today?" HAHA. Scratch that, I'll get Angela or Susan to trim it up for me.

2. I went for a run last night. And it sounds so cool to say that.

I went to the gym and warmed up on the stationary bike while reading a magazine. I was doing near 140 rpms, but I'm pretty sure that's mild for me. So stationary bike for 10 and then I got on the treadmill. One thing I forgot to do was stretch, but maybe the stationary bike helped that. Here's the embarrassing part... I got on the treadmill and put on Big & Rich's song Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy (because what other songs do they even have?!) and started warming up with a little less than a power walk at around a 3.5 pace. I picked up the pace a bit (to a 4.0), but before I knew it, my power walking wasn't quick enough for me. I kept inching the pace up a notch until before I knew it, I was running at a 7.0 clip. Pretty damn cool.

3. My favorite mechanic is celebrating a birthday tomorrow.

And I'm going to bake something for him. I'm thinking ... well, actually I may not bake, that depends ... I'm thinking peanut butter pie, because I know he loves peanut butter. Those don't require baking. And boys like to eat; whenever we have sweets here at our office, or when we make a big lunch, they come over (the machanic, by the way, is next door to my office). It'll be a combination 'happy birthday' and 'I'm sure glad you're alive' cake. The 'I'm sure glad you're alive part' is because 1.) he takes care of my car for next to nothing and 2.) he just met eye to eye with a fast-moving 18-wheeler last week and is here to tell about it.

4. Against Me!

In a couple days I'm going to be standing in Common Grounds with quite possibly no one I know (yet! I'm optimistic I'll make a new friend), a beer in hand (because a PBR goes so deliciously well with Against Me!), listening to a band I so epicly love blow my mind the same way they did the last time I saw them (which was a few Fests -- and years -- ago.). It's going to be incredible. I'll probably walk out of Common Grounds in a half-glazed state of euphoria.

5. My Co-worker is ... well, you decide.

She got back from lunch today and, out of courtesy -- not because I really give a shit, I asked her how it was. Instead of telling me it was savory, or terrible, or whatever the hell word she thought would have described it, she burped for what seemed like an entire, continuous minute.

School: The Plan.

2009-04-08T07:12:00.000-07:00

I'm going back to school.

I'm telling you all this because I feel like if I say it out loud, I'm more likely to actually accomplish it.

I know that with planning a bridal shower and a bachelorette party, making arrangements to fly to New Hampshire twice in two weeks for weddings, still doing Habitat, still visiting NCL every couple weekends, working on being a better person overall, and still not finding time for the gym is really more than enough for me to think about, but I really want to go back to school.

I requested some information from the University Center at my local community college regarding UCF's Elementary Education degree. There are three pre-requisites I'd need to take before I could even get started on my degree I think. But I want this.

I want this with the ultimate goal of traveling to Prague, or Vienna, or Viana do Castelo, or Milan, or Belgium to teach English. I've been vocal about this for a couple months now, but vocalizing it so far hasn't gotten me anywhere significant -- other than to get advice from several sources.

The way I see it, and the way some adults in my life see it (my eye doctor, my co-workers, friends of my co-worker), I have several options with this goal of mine.

1. I could get my teaching degree, teach in public schools in America to get experience, get my TESOL certification, and the cross the pond headed for Europe.

or 2. I could get my teaching degree, get into a career path with the US Government (via USAJOBS.gov), and start teaching English on military bases (which would probably be safer, but could potentially mean less traveling).

or 3. I could get my teaching degree, get my TESOL certification, and then ask a friend of a co-worker to pull some strings with a principal who coordinates teaching overseas to just toss me right into the mix with the least amount of rigamaroll. (this was actually the friend of the co-worker's idea, not mine. She's cool like that. And has done things like this multiple times in her life.)

Those are the three best options. And out of the three, I feel most safe with number two. I think getting a start with the government would probably make most sense for me. I'd feel safer, be guaranteed a decent salary (probably way above my standards for 'decent') and hopefully even a place to sleep, still have options to travel, and still be tied to the US (even if I'm in Belgium). Not to mention, military guys and I ... we go way back. (Hi Patrick.)

So step one: get my pre-requisites out of the way. They're things like Intro to Ed. Ooooooh intimidating. I don't mind taking classes like this because I'm pretty damn sure they'll be cake for me. I just sort of resent that I even have to take the time on them.

Actually, step one would be getting my financial aid cleared, getting signed up with UCF (through the UC), and getting enrolled in some classes. So first and foremost, I need to talk to a counselor. Perhaps I'll call on my lunch break today. =]

So, dear readers, this is my plan. I think it will make my life more meaningful and I pretty much need that. Keep me in check.

The Dedication

2009-04-06T11:25:00.000-07:00

In June of last year I ventured onto the foundation of my first Habitat for Humanity project. Without going into ridiculous amounts of detail or telling stories that span the last nine months of my life, I'm going to tell you what has happened.

I mean, shit. I could have had a baby. . .

Since June 2008, I've been working along side some of the most selfless women (and a handful of men) I know. I've made some incredible, life-long friends. And I built a freaking house. Like, I literally raised framing walls, installed hurricane straps, stood on scaffolding and raised entire sheets of plywood up to the second story exterior walls, hung drywall, installed insulation, you name it, I did it. I built a house.

And I kept saying that -- I kept calling it a house, day in and day out. Until the day I realized (and this was a ridiculous story) that one of the friends I'd made and had been working side-by-side with was actually the recipient of the house I was building! Knowing her, knowing her story, and knowing how great of a person she is, made me realize I wasn't building a house -- I was building a HOME!

It was after I realized the home was hers that it really became a project of heart. This was something that was going to change her life -- the lives of her three beautiful kids -- forever. And I had a hand in it! TWO hands!

Here are some of the photos:

After a celebratory lunch with some of the ladies who helped build Angelica's home.

Back row: Jane, Angelica, her son Corey, Elizabeth, Maria V, Barb, and Maryann

Front row: Jo, John, Christina, and me.

This is the house. What do you think?

Angelica, her kids, her pastor, and the director of Habitat. =]

I've never wanted Friday over so badly.

2009-04-03T12:40:00.001-07:00

More stuff for this terribly slow Friday afternoon.

This is for you guys who read/comment on my blog these days,

... got it from Shoebox Blog,

... who hooked me up with LOTD way back in the day,

... who coincidentally is the person I owe thanks for hooking me up with the majority of the people who comment on my blog now.

Anyway, here's the stuff I wanted to share. Since I'm working out and realizing I love exercise for fun, not just the goal, I can get a good laugh out of the ridiculous and absurd fads that actually become acceptable to society in the world of wellness, fitness, and mostly weight loss. Here's SBB's funny list.

The Next Fitness Craze

10:20 am

* Twittercize
* Wall Street CEO kicking
* Pinatas!
* Pills n’ lattes
* Smooth Jazzercise
* Chasing down food. On foot. Because you can’t afford to go to a
fancy grocery store.
* Being hunted by Dick Cheney
* Lifting a few things from the store
* Speed undressing
* Hemp sickles
* Grapefruit and brownie diet, but without the grapefruit
* Barhopping where you actually hop

And then ...

The Next Fitness Craze, Part 2

10:26 am

* Only eat what you find in mustache
* Becoming a Nachoterian
* Squat thrusts in the unemployment line
* Spinny Step Climber Tastics!
* Watching the Wall Street ticker for 20 minutes a day
* Climbing to the back row of a stadium seating theater
* Ducking and weaving while talking with Chris Brown
* Blogging to the Oldies
* Drink ups
* Sagging economy lifts
* Eat whatever you can lick off a burning grill
* Scream yourself thin
* Rocky Montage, but with you instead of Rocky
* Vodkarobics

Music Maestro, please...

2009-04-03T10:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder how I find the things I find...

I honestly can't retrace my steps for today's happy discovery.

Her name is Victoria Lee (aka Vickiilee) and she plays acoustic guitar beautifully.

Watch this video for me, tell me I'm wrong.

I think it's funny that she records most of her videos in the bathroom. I know girl who wrote a song about singing in the bathroom because the acoustics are better. Everyone sounds good in the shower. We all know that. But this time she's in her bedroom and she still sounds good.

That's it, I just inspired myself... I'm putting the stereo in the bathroom today when I get home. Loud shower time music for me. YAY!

So ... some might say I picked this song due to my recent relationshit. Not that I care what some may say, but that's not fact. I watched all of her videos (hello, I'm a creeper!) and truly prefer this one most. Her guitar talent seems more individual in this one. The song was coincidental. Fitting, but coincidental.

Sharon sips her coffee in the mornings.

2009-04-03T10:00:00.000-07:00

There's a house that sits not far from mine. It's adorable and always seems so inviting -- like something you see in a fairytale or a mystical story. There're always countless squirrels and birds in the shade of several grand oak trees.

One time I was walking by to go to the park and there was a band in the front yard. A band, as in ... an upright bass (!!) player, a keyboardist, a guitarist, and a guy with a drum like the one in the front of this image. I walked by one direction and paused to watch them for a minute or two. They seemed to not notice I was standing there. I walked back by on my way home and, again, they didn't notice me. Later that night there was no sign of a band ever being there. . . of anyone ever being there really, come to me.

I was walking L&B this morning, like I do every morning. I wasn't paying any attention to the cute little house with all the squirrels and mystical feeling because never, in the whole month I've been there, have I seen someone there other than the mystery band.

But then I looked up, and she waved. The pretty lady sitting on the front porch, sipping a hot coffee on a windy morning was just watching me walk L&B along the trees on the other side of her street. And she waved. And I wasn't going to make a big deal out of it or anything, but she walked to the end of her driveway to talk to me.

By far the nicest person to "welcome" me to the neighborhood. But I didn't dare ask her about the band I saw in her front yard . . . I didn't want to look crazy, you know?

603.

2009-04-02T05:58:00.000-07:00

I never told you this story, but when I was a three, I had to have physical therapy for a broken femur. Every single day we drove to PT, we went over a small, fairly insignificant overpass with had a shopping plaza below it. The address for the shopping plaza was just barely visible over the bridge. And it was 603.

And every single day as we went over, I would excitedly blurt out the numbers to show my mom I recognized them. This turned into a game for us. And eventually, a tradition.

Fast forward into my "more grown up" ages ... like ... high school. And, if you could be a fly in my truck, you would have without a doubt witnessed me driving over the overpass by myself and, sure enough, I'd just say it ... "six oh three."

Shortly after high school is when I met Seth, Tommy, Leif, Troy, and Jonesy in Gainesville. Still, there was no connection. Their friends and families came to visit, we then bonded, they returned home, and still, nothing. It wasn't until the boys moved home and gave me their NH phone numbers that I realized fate is a sneaky bitch.

From the time I was three years old, I've considered 603 to be a favorite number of mine -- one that holds substantial and significant value. That hasn't changed. Twenty-one years later, I still believe it's one of few continuous threads in my life.

A very large part of who I am is directly related to the core group of my friends living in New Hampshire -- all living in the 603. A number, to them, seemingly unimportant. But to me, 603 has now been present for two very key periods on my life: rehabilitating a broken femur and meeting the friends who would eventually help define me.

603 -- this one's for you.

The heat is on...

2009-04-01T05:50:00.000-07:00

I've got to admit, now that people are actively involved with following and commenting on this blog, I feel pressured to write legitimately interesting stuff.

Some things that peeve me:

1. I typically don't complain about misspellings of my name, but after three years, my co-worker still doesn't know my name is spelled with one L. Whenever he writes a message for me, he directs it to "All-" ugh. Initially I thought, maybe this message is for ALL of us. Wrong. It's specifically for me, he just doesn't know it only has one L. And I bet a million pesos he also doesn't finish spelling it out because he doesn't know it ends in i-s-o-n. I mean, it is a tricky name after all.

2. I went grocery shopping yesterday. I had a list of five things to get in Publix: dog food, dog treats, Gatorade, wine, toilet paper. I came out with 15 things (I counted because I wondered if I could squeeze into the express check-out... nope). I came out with 15 things -- NONE of which was the most important thing on the list -- fucking toilet paper. It always goddamn happens to me -- I always forget something.

3. I studied architectural drafting for four years straight. Hardcore too, not just pussyfooted studying -- like I did the replans and fire escape routes for a spansive local high school (my high school at the time). Yet despite this, I am deemed incapable of having a legitimately reasonable two cents to offer to the design of our new office building. Not to mention I'm a freak for ergonomics and interior design. I set the bitches straight when I found one incredibly significant flaw in the plans a professional had drawn up, another professional had proofed, and our entire office staff had approved before me. And what do I get for this? The joy of picking colors -- which, don't get me wrong, I'm excited, see -- Yay! But knowing the taste of stuffy old fuddy duddies I work with, my opinions on colors will be overruled anyway. So really they're just placating me. Fuck, I hate placating.

That's about it. Any more complaining and I'd be nit-picking.

Remember what I said being pressured to write something interesting? Yeah ... that comes later.

The War on Drugs according to Cafferty.

2009-03-31T12:10:00.000-07:00

I love this man. Most days his opinion is dead on with mine. Most days.

This time is no different. And because of that, I don't really have much to add.

I wonder if everyone dares follow the links in blogs these days. I do. But I'm a baller. Some people won't click a link no matter the reason.

In case you're considering NOT opening the link, here's a blurb from the Cafferty's column:

"What do you suppose the total price tag is for this failed war on drugs? One senior Harvard economist estimates we spend $44 billion a year fighting the war on drugs. He says if they were legal, governments would realize about $33 billion a year in tax revenue. Net swing of $77 billion. Could we use that money today for something else? You bet your ass we could. Plus the cartels would be out of business. Instantly. Goodbye crime and violence."

Here's the link, I hope you click it.

It never gets old...

2009-03-30T12:49:00.001-07:00

My all time favorite SNL skit. I search for it every so often and have a hell of a time finding it online. But Cary, my pal over at LOTD found it and posted it today, so I stole it.

enjoy.

SNL - Suspected Terrorists mit DeNiro - MyVideo

Things That Make Me Happy.

2009-03-30T11:38:00.000-07:00

My girliefriend Laura got this idea from her girliefriend Laura. I'm not a Laura, but I feel I'm still allowed to follow suit.

Here's a list of things that make me happy.

1. six dollar bottles of Cabernet.
2. friends who offer junk punches, but only when they're deserved.
3. blazing hot showers.
4. Lucy and Blondie.
5. Olive and Charley.
6. and Morty.
7. living in my own house.
8. laying in my comfortable ass bed. seriously, if you were in it, you wouldn't want to get up either.
9. that brief bit of time when you're driving to the beach and you cross the Inter-coastal. That moment when you know the ocean's only a stone's throw away and you'll be there in a blink. That minute, when coupled with the perfect song (a personal preference, of course) is serene.
10. Punk Rock Beach Party Volume 1.
11. The officially discontinued Crisper's Cobb Salad. (and now I recognize a brief moment of silence for the Cobb......)
12. JCFS
13. My friends on SparkPeople who support me unabashedly.
14. riding my bike and jogging.
15. planning vacations to new places.
16. spoiling myself with some light shopping.
17. naps in the car on sunny days.
18. "one more minute . . ."
19. making things with my hands -- pottery. jewelry. cards.
20. hugs made with love.

I did better drunk on a six dollar bottle of Cabernet.

2009-03-30T10:23:00.000-07:00

So ... okay. Lemme set the scene for all my beloved readers.

I work in a small office, which is fully staffed at five people. I pack a lunch. This means many things: I save myself ten dollars a day; can eat much, much healthier; and always have time for perhaps a midday walk or a nap.

Today it was a nap. On some days I do this in the conference room with all the lights off. On really beautiful days, I nap in my car with the windows down and occasionally the door open. Today was a car day. It's probably mid seventies outside right now, with beautifully crisp blue skies, and breezy. AKA it's perfect napping weather.

Ever wake up suddenly, in a slight state of panic?

It happened to me this morning -- after getting literally 2 hours of sleep, I woke up in a frenzy and was halfway dialing my work number to call in late when I realized I only live 15 minutes away now and could definitely still make it on time (I ended up being 25 minutes early to work, by the way).

So ... nap time. I parked my car in a mildly sunny spot because the warmth makes me fall asleep faster. I kept the door open to prop my feet on it and get a little cross breeze. About 45 minutes later, the hunting dogs on the property next to ours began barking as if someone was systematically killing them off one by one. Then a loud ass utility truck pulled into the driveway and decided to idle. And then it happened again.

I woke up in a frenzy. These things -- the dogs and the truck startled me awake. Still laying down, my eyes flew open, my right arm uncrossed from my left, I grabbed my keys and phone, and jumped out of the car . . .

and collapsed flat on my ass in the parking lot. Both my legs were asleep.

I couldn't even pull myself up off the burning ass hot asphalt. I was disoriented, overheated, and temporarily paralyzed from the waste down (thanks to propping my feet on the door, I assume). Once I finally managed to get myself off the ground, my heart was racing and I felt lightheaded. I sat on the edge of my driver's seat for a second and, still thinking about how I was mega late back from lunch, tried to get up and walk to the office. Bad idea.

I struggled to not fall again while trying to regain control of my facilities (I'm just grateful I didn't shit myself) for probably an entire minute next to my car -- never our of arm's reach of the open door -- and never successful. I gave up on waking my legs and attempted to make a mad, paraplegic-esque attempt to make it to the side of the building so I could support myself against the wall.

Mind you, I'm damn certain the men in the loud-ass truck that caused all of this to begin with were surely watching me bumble around like a drunk bastard in the parking lot. None of those men offered to help me get my seemingly crippled ass off the ground when I collapsed.

Speaking of collapsing, I don't really remember hitting the ground. I think I might have been partially unconscious when that happened. I know I landed on my left foot though, because it's torn ass up from the asphalt and my ankle hurts something fierce when I sit on it (which is how I love to sit at work).

Back to the real story. Somehow -- brain power, I guess -- I manage to make my legs work just long enough to make it to the front of the office and ... low and behold NO ONE is back. I started to look for my office key on the ring (there are only four keys on this ring and the office key is by far the largest), but when I stop focusing on making my legs function, they stop functioning and I nearly collapse again. I grabbed the door handle leaned into the glass, stuck the key in and made it happen.

I got inside and to my desk, put my keys down and pulled my ass down the hall to get some much needed goddamn water. I sat in a chair in the conference room, put away 30 ounces of Culligan, and thought I was feeling better.

When I walked into the bathroom, I realized the absurdity of this entire situation had just then reached it's climax . . .

Remember the arm crossing? And the bright sunshiney day? Apparently it's just bright and sunshiney enough and I'm just Irish enough that my fair maiden skin darkened around the areas that were crossed. I now have a tan line of the four fingers of my right hand on my left arm and I have a diagonal tan line of my left arm's edge across my right forearm. Fantastic.

But hey, at least I can walk again.

mindless in overdrive.

2009-03-30T08:24:00.000-07:00

1. So apparently part of the stimulus package is to let me keep a little more of my income. I got paid today and it had appeared I got a raise. We'll say I did, because shit, I'm getting paid more, but really it's no reflection of my own personal job-well-done.

2. Saturday I went to the beach. It was awesome. I hardly went in the water, as that wasn't my plan when I headed that way. I wanted to soak up some sun. (I'm a freakishly white Irish girl and I use half a bottle of sunblock in one visit, but there isn't another feeling in the world that simulates the feeling of soaking up warm, life-giving sun rays on a breezy day at lands' end.

3. My friend and fellow blogger, Laura posted a list of things that made her happy. I think I'm going to do that later today. It'd probably be a good exercise in positivity; although I think I'm retaining a great deal of that through all the shit that went down Saturday night.

4. Sunday I wanted too much. Go see the Vagina Monologues with my aptly named friend Twinkle and Ariane. Celebrate with Angela's family. Visit Jeff, Kelly, Todd, and Susan. Ride the shit out of my bike. I ended celebrating with Angela's family, but really that only happened because their celebrating happened to happen at my house. Don't get me wrong, I love people, but I'd have rather ridden my bike all day. Or stayed in the bathtub so long I turned into a fish.

5. Tomorrow ends the first month of my living in the Magnolia House -- and yes, I named my house. And I can honestly say I don't know how it could be any better. I outdoors so much more often. I'm in a better mood most days, and I love the convenience of being no more than ten minutes from anything.

6. Speaking of the Magnolia House, I assure all who are interested, I'll take the pictures that are long overdue and post them here soon. I'd sort of been waiting to finalize everything, but then I realized rooms like my office and the art 'studio' probably won't ever be looking straight out of Good Housekeeping . . .

7. I've lost 13 pounds since January. It's not remarkable, but it shows my commitment and dedication. I want to lose weight and I'm half way to 25lbs down! How cool is that!? Again, I really want to get back out on my bike soon. Maybe today if I'm not too tired.

8 and last. Speaking of tired. I drank all but one glass (Angela had that one) of a bottle of a hearty cabernet yesterday -- starting with breakfast, honestly. As I sat down last night to finally tinker on my own computer with our new wireless network, I sipped down the last three glasses. And then when bedtime came, I wasn't feeling sleepy. Staying up until 330 and waking up at 530 because you have to pee doesn't suck as bad as I thought it would.

more later. (see: happiness list.)

Sometimes a girl just needs something. (journal, NSFW, language)

2009-03-27T07:23:00.000-07:00

I don't typically feed off of the positive reinforcement of my peers. I've never been one who looks to others for approval. I just do what I do and don't ask for much. Now, do I have expectations or needs? Sure. But that doesn't make me selfish or needy. That just means I'm human -- with emotions, and sensitivity. The expectations and needs I do have are simple things -- things any mildly advanced primate could do.

Seriously, I don't ask for much. Love me? Care about my feelings? Put in some effort from time to time? By no standards are any of those things too much to ask.

But for fuck's sake. I lost ten pounds. TEN fucking POUNDS and there are more perfect strangers happy for me than there are close friends. Susan, my sister, is the ONLY person who's said she's noticed the difference. And even if she's lying (and I'm not saying she is), at least she's fucking encouraging me.

I've been trying so damn hard to lose weight, to maintain a healthier diet, and to weave more physical activity into my lifestyle. And every day I'm doing that all by myself, save for the encouragement of a group of strangers all clustered together in one tiny corner of the world wide web -- SparkPeople. But this is one area of my life where I could use a little encouragement from the people who know me best. I'm struggling to change 24 years worth of grazing and inactivity habits and you people (my friends) don't seem to understand the complexity of it (excluding a very select few -- of which, none are my best friends . . . puzzling.).

How often do I need you? How often do I really ask for something? And how simply manageable is my request when I do have one?

In a time when I could use you more than ever, you're all falling short. Every last one of you.

And I need the fucking ocean and there's nothing else to say about that.

I'm going.

2009-03-25T05:38:00.000-07:00

And we rock,
Because it's us against them.
We found our own reasons to sing,
And it's so much less confusing
when lines are drawn like that,
When people are either consumers or revolutionaries,
Enemies or friends hanging on the fringes
Of the cogs in the system.
It's just about knowing where everyone stands.
All of a sudden,
People start talking 'bout guns,
Talking like they're going to war,
'Cause they found something to die for,
Start taking back what they stole-
sure beats every other option,
But does it make a difference how we get it?

Well do you really fucking get it?
No, no, no, no,
No, no, no, no....

I bought my ticket today.

I'm going to Against Me!'s show in Gainesville on April 11th.

It's a Saturday, where else would I have to be?

And I decided I was going with little concern for what's happening with anyone around me because . . . well, shit. I was selfish.

But I missed their Gainesville show last year and I'll be damned if that's going to happen again.

Barring death or severe maiming, I'm going to be listening to and looking at Against Me! with a beer in one hand and my camera in the other in just three Saturdays.

If you want to go, I strongly suggest getting a ticket now.

Give 'em a listen here.

Buddy Cat, Buddy Cat.

2009-03-24T16:10:00.000-07:00

Today, immediately following work, I took Olive to the vet. One hundred fifty five dollars later (which will go unnoticed thanks to my tax return!), he's fine. For half the afternoon I worried myself sick thinking something serious may be wrong.

See, I recently moved into a big house with my best friend. We have a small, domestic zoo of pets -- most of which are mine, and all of which I consider my children (I'm 24, unmarried, and hopelessly devoted to the unconditional love of animals, so sue me).

Some time last year, Angela adopted one from a family here in town. For the first few weeks of owning him (name: Wednesday), I reminded her about taking him to the vet, but eventually even I forgot.

Fast forward through us moving in together. I wake up one morning and notice Olive is quite clearly losing the delicate fur around his eyes, lips, and the brim of his precious, button nose. I start to worry. Stress? Rough housing with Wednesday (whom he treats like his baby)? Some kind of allergy to the house? A flea allergy?

It gets worse. While I'm at work, I take the liberty of looking up causes for facial hair loss in cats -- the results were horrifying. There were pages, and pages of diseases I can't even pronounce all with symptoms just like Olive was exhibiting. Aaaand, naturally, I panic myself. What if, in exposing him to an unvaccinated cat, I've also exposed him to diseases like Feline Lukemia, or potentially worse diseases?

My heart starts to race and, in that panic, I text my mom and ask her to get on AIM (I can't leave my desk at this time of day for any extended period, so AIM has to work). She gets on and I explain to her what's happening. She, along with two or three other friends, and Susan, all assure me everything will be fine.

I duck out of work at a quarter to five, zip home, grab Olive and stuff him in his carrier, and take him to the vet -- not even five minutes from home! The doc comes in -- who is a vet I've known and loved my entire life as a pet owner -- takes one look at Olive, goes over him with a flea comb and says, "no need to worry anymore, he's just allergic to fleas."

So . . . expose him to something is just what I did, but ... and THANK GOD ... it's not Feline Lukemia of FIV. So Dr. Lee gave him some fast-acting shot of antihistamine and a prescription of more Advantage (and importantly, some for Wednesday) and we were all set. And since treating two out of four animals is like scratching half an itch, I bought medicine to treat Lucy and Blondie too. It might seem pricy to pay $155 for flea treatments, a shot, and a visit, but considering the alternative -- and what I was expecting -- I gladly flipped my debit card onto the table and tossed out my worries for Olive.

Thank my lucky stars! Now... let's get these pets under control!

wow factor.

2009-03-24T13:09:00.000-07:00

how about this? Does it get the wow factor, honey?

... I wrote it.

And I love you pieces. I wanted to say smithereens because they're smaller than pieces and thus would imply my love was more powerful, but the term 'smithereens' carries such a negative connotation. Anyway, you get my point... my love is like whoa.

Phillie Phanatics.

2009-03-24T06:38:00.000-07:00

Jon-Michael took me to a Phillies Spring Training game on Saturday. This photo is he and I at the ball park after the Seventh Inning Stretch. J.M.'s holding our blanket under his arm.

We sat on the berm off left field. And were right next to the bull pen where all those studly major leaguers were throwing practice pitches. (and signing autographs for adorable little leaguers with sharpies.)

It was a first for me. And a thoroughly enjoyable one.

I met J.M. at his house around 9:30 and we left for the park shortly after a quick, home-made breakfast.

In the truck I applied about a half a bottle of sunblock to my arms and legs. And when we arrived at the park, I applied more to my face and hands. I don't like the oily feeling of it on my face, so I hold off putting it on as long as possible. And thankfully, despite sitting in the direct afternoon sun for several hours, not an inch of my skin was crisp, tender, or red.

We took a stroll around the park before we left and I got some pretty neat pictures (I think).

After the ball game, we were planning on heading to the beach. I am in desperate need of a relaxing beach retreat. So we set off in the direction of the coast and just a few minutes into our journey, we were faced with three lanes of bumper to bumper, Hellish, beach-bound traffic. I said screw it. We made a last minute turn to the right and followed the coast line awhile. We pulled off the road and walked along the sea wall. As nice as the ocean breeze was, it wasn't what I needed. I did, however, enjoy what I could get.

So we left the sea-wall and headed back -- just in time to catch the post-game traffic from Hell. So we stopped at TGI Friday's and ate a really delicious and reasonably priced lunch. And our waiter was fantastic. And we missed all the traffic. What a win-win-win!

By the time we were on the road again, I was so fatigued from the sun I fell asleep within minutes of being back in the car. I napped for a solid half hour while J.M. drove. He's such a loving boyfriend. Car rides make me sleepy and he doesn't mind if I pass out and let him do all the responsible stuff like drive and navigate and DJ.

After arriving at his house, showering, and relaxing for literally . . . a minute, I headed home. Since I've moved, I've been testing L&B to see how long they could go without being taken for a walk. Not because I want to neglect them, but because I want to know what their threshold is in the event I can't get home at my usual time. Saturday night, they were teetering on their threshold when I got home.

All in all, the day was brilliant. We got to spend time together, share something new, and enjoy one of the most beautiful days Florida's seen this year! We did, however, realize that more than anything Jon-Michael and I need the kind of vacation where we "lay in each other's ever-loving arms and watch sunsets while drinking mojitos."

Call us selfish, but we really don't get enough quality time together alone. It's a shitty situation sometimes, but we make the best of it.

There's something that I can't quite explain.

2009-03-18T07:44:00.000-07:00

I wrote someone off once. I was young; he was my heart’s first pain. I wrote him out of my life’s story. He grew up, joined the military, and about once a year for the next several, attempted to reach me.

In August of 2005, I met the man I now know I’ll marry. He was older, well-spoken, intelligent, and seemed to have zero unreasonable negativity. My life became complete when he came into it. And with the inexplicable amount of happiness flourishing in my life now, I had no room, nor desire, to harbor hatred.

Jon-Michael opened a window for me – he let the light in. When I realized I was in love with him, I realized all that time I thought I’d been heartbroken, I was really just bitter because Tommy had moved on.

In October of 2005 he tried to reach me again, this time I let him tell me his story. He had messed up. He ruined things with me all those years ago, and for all the years in between struggled to find a way to fix it. The more time went on, the worse time he had of contacting me, and I certainly didn’t make things easier. He had a reason; I just never gave him the opportunity to explain to me.

Seventy-two hours ago (as I write this, not as you read it), I was sitting across a table at Chili’s from him – listening to his laugh for the first time in six years. He is taller, stronger, and still blonde-haired with blue eyes. Next to him was Susan, across from her and on my right was his beautiful wife, Abby. And on her right, was his precious daughter, Eliza Lyn.

I can’t honestly say sitting at Chili’s for three hours was satisfying enough to patch the last six years of disconnect between us. But I can say, just as he is a different man, I am a different woman than the girl he knew before he enlisted.

If I could have him here in town just a bit longer, there’s only one person I’d care about him seeing – and that’s the person who taught me to live and let go, to not waste time with anger when I should be cherishing time with friends. If I could have Tommy in town for one more moment, the only thing I’d want to do with that moment is watch him shake hands with my future husband and the man who taught me that sometimes people do something they regret, but is able to be overlooked for the greater gift of love or friendship.

Everyone messes up, but not everyone rights their wrongs. He spent six years trying to right his while he could have much more easily written me off.

I never imagined I’d be the woman who let a rift destroy a friendship as close as his and mine once was. And I’ll never let it happen again. My only hope is that our friendship is strong enough to overcome it and that my endless love for Jon-Michael continues to teach me.

ily

People want me. At odd hours.

2009-03-13T05:59:00.000-07:00

I haven't really officially informed people to no longer try calling the 5307 number to reach me. However, I guess it's catching on.

I went to bed around 11 on Tuesday night and, with my phone on silent, I missed two calls --- one minute apart --- from this phone number: 352-821-2317.

Then, this is my favorite part, at 4 AM today, I missed a phone call from this phone number: 352-317-9445.

Who are you people?

** I got a text from the number that called me at 4AM that said:

"wh0 da hell y0u is I get money ho'"

I called her, she answered and when she heard my voice say "hello," she hung up. So I called her right back and got her voice mail, naturally. And I left her a message ripping her the nicest new one I could.

"Right, I didn't complain when you called my number at FOUR this morning. I didn't even try calling you back at a ridiculous hour as retaliation. I just let it go. But when you text me something as ridiculous as what you just sent, I had to step in. You had to have known when you got my voice mail that you'd called the wrong number. But you clearly decided that wasn't enough, and you texted me this afternoon anyway. When you hung up, that was the last straw. You called the wrong number, Weirsdale -- yeah, I looked you up. Don't be a dick about it. You know you did. Don't continue calling the wrong number. Don't apologize or anything -- just don't continue. Have a fantastic afternoon."

Why you wanna go against me like that?

2009-03-10T06:37:00.000-07:00

Went home last night from work, relaxed, and then went up to Gainesville to hit Monday Night Karaoke with Susan.

I walked up to the Porch and handed the girlie my ID, and instantly -- and this is why I miss Gainesville -- hear someone blurt out, "ALISON!!"

"Ahhhhhh. It's good to be back," I thought.

But I swear, karaoke doesn't want me to experience it this year. The first time I trekked to G-Rock for it, my friend got food poisoning and we called it a night before anyone sang. And this, the second time, there was no karaoke -- and subsequently, no free beer -- because it was spring break for all the UFers.

But what there was, however, was a free concert, so Susan met me there and we watched for awhile. And the band, luckily enough, was Gaslight Anthem. And they're damn good live. I would have bought their stuff had I been prepared with a cash flow (recall, I came up for a free night of fun).

And to top it all off, while I was standing talking to a handful of people who went to the same middle school I did, I spotted a flier on the wall of the Porch advertising a concert I've been itching to experience since last year. For me to miss this show, the world better fucking end.

And, I'm not disclosing ANY information about it -- no location, date, cost, bands, venue, nothing -- to protect myself from sabotage. If you're cool enough to know about it, I'll tell you in person.

Today has been a super-fantastic day and it's just now 12:15.

I love some of the people who read this blog. (I say 'some' because I don't know who the hell reads it.)

No Pictures!

2009-03-09T11:19:00.000-07:00

I cannot believe we threw our very first party at my house and NO ONE, not even myself, thought to take any freaking pictures.

What the hell?!

What party, you ask?

Once upon a time, Angela and I needed help moving all our shit into our new house and nine people -- count 'em NINE, stepped up to the plate. It was an overwhelming response to an otherwise meek plea for help in this endeavor. And we so greatly appreciated it, there wasn't any other legitimate expression of our gratitude than to throw a party and invite only those people back over. So we did. And we had a blast. And everyone loved the house. And it was an all-around excellent time.

And no pictures were taken. Not one single picture. It just seems strange to me. How did that happen?

Anyway. Continued gratitude goes out to the nine people (Mom and Dad, Susan, Jon-Michael baby, Carol, Perry, Karen, Cody, and Hollie) who helped us move. I've never experienced such a large group effort go so well.

I love you all.

A few things have been rolling around my head lately.

2009-03-04T13:15:00.000-08:00

Projects for the house.
1. varnish the top of the table.
2. paint the laundry room.
3. paint the miscellaneous room.
4. situate my work space upstairs.
5. decorate the walls upstairs and in the stairwell

Things I need to do in other aspects of my life.
1. get a gym routine down pat.
2. wash my car, finally.
3. sweep out the dog kennel, ensure it's security, put L&B in it, see how they do.
4. find a bedspread I'm actually 100 % pleased with.
5. find a spot for my television for the time being.
6. pick up the litter around our yard.
7. get groceries for our family appreciation BBQ on Sunday.
8. give myself a very basic manicure.
9. snuggle up on the couch in my living room, watch a movie, and drink some cocoa with my lion slippers on.
10. scrapbook some stuff that's very important to me.

I think living in town is going to be pretty awesome.

I miss my parents, though. I know that's normal. But I do miss them. It's sort of strange for me. When they're traveling, I don't miss them nearly as much as I'm missing them now. And they do a lot of traveling. But when that would happen, they'd go, not me. I'd always be home. Living.

And they'd come back and we'd fall into our old routines -- for instance, the one involving my dad and I watching the morning news together while I drank cocoa and he sipped coffee at the breakfast bar, or him walking me out and us standing in the front yard talking about the day ahead for an extra five minutes, or all three of us sitting down with dinner in the living room to watch Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune together, or enjoying our snacks during the English shows on PBS.

I lived a long time with my parents. And this new life is a strange one. But I'm welcoming the opportunities I am discovering I do have now. For instance, I ran "into town" last night at about 9 to go to K-Mart and the gym. I was back within a half an hour. And had finished all my errands. It was fantastic.

I'm also embracing the new responsibilities I have with Lucy and Blondie. They're my best friends and I am their mom and caretaker. And we need each other. Since Saturday night, Lucy and Blondie have been going out for walks on leashes, and they're getting comfortable finally. They're very private dogs and very set in their ways, so transitioning from free-roaming on six acres to restricted exploration on a six foot leash has been a struggle. But we're adjusting. And we've established a bit of a routine.

Right now, I come back to the house on my lunch break to walk them in the middle of the day, BUT I'd really love not to have to do that forever. Frankly, I don't know if I'll be able to afford driving to and from home twice a day, every day, in the long run. We'll see. Blondie seems to have a smaller bladder than Lucy, so there's a concern for her having an accident in the house if I don't come home on my lunch break.

I think my plan for testing her 'holding power' will be to wake up and walk them at 7 am on a Saturday and not take them out again until 5, when I would typically get home from work and see if she can make it. Kaye's dogs can do this. I imagine mine can too; they're just not used to all this.

Tonight I believe I'm going to get home, walk L&B, change clothes, and get to more decorating. We have all the stairway and upstairs to decorate still. I also want to varnish the table top, and venture to target to find a bedspread. I don't know about that last part, maybe I should wait for my next pay check. Although I'd like to have it by the time the family appreciation BBQ happens.

Speaking of which . . . Angela and I invited everyone who helped us move back over to the house on Sunday so we could properly thank them for all their hard work in moving all our furniture and belongings. We're going to throw a bunch of burgers and hotdogs on the grill, make up some pasta and potato salad, probably a real salad, some chips and salsa, and give a very heartfelt thanks to everyone who's done so much for us these past several weeks.

The guest list (and list of people who helped) tops off at 11 people. So we're looking at our first full house of visitors. (Perry and Carol Adams, the kids -- Karen, Cody, and Hollie, Susan, Jon-Michael, and Ralph and Sheila Scott (and gratuitously included family - Jeff and Kelly))

I'm very stoked about this BBQ because I anticipate the house being completely (or almost completely) arranged as we'd like it by then. I also intend to print some before pictures so our family can see all the hard work we've put into the house. Angela and I might have poured serious heart and soul into the house, but none of it would be of any good at all if our families didn't help us officially move.

The Wanderlust.

2009-03-03T05:47:00.000-08:00

Traveling.

Thanks to Leslie, I'm itching for it. I keep looking at her pictures (she's spending time in Hawaii right now and living it up) and I'm thinking, holy crap I need to be some place other than Ocala right now.

But I can't. It's not feasible yet. I literally just moved into a new place. My housemate and I are still living out of boxes. But I'm itching to travel. Itching for some kind of new experience. Does moving into my very first "own place" not count as a new experience? Why am I not satisfied?

The good news is Jon-Michael is taking me to a Phillies spring training game in Clearwater this month. That'll be a new experience -- and one I'm quite thrilled about having. I'm giddy over the idea that he and I will be laying (or sitting) on a blanket in the outfield (maybe with a bag full of snacks and drinks) watching the Phillies play in the beautiful Florida sun. I just hope it's warm that day.

About a week ago I mentioned to Jon-Michael that I needed to get to the beach to decompress. I needed to -- it was, and still is, imperative. So this month, when we go to the Phillies spring training game, we're going to also attempt to go to the beach in Clearwater. This was all his idea.

The truth of the matter is, this year isn't looking too good for me as far as new vacations go. I will be taking a few days off for Traci's wedding in July, then another two days off for Cassie and Isiac's wedding in New hampshire in August, and another couple days for Amanda and Dan's wedding in New Hampshire in September. That's roughly five or six of my ten vacation days already spent. Leaving me four or five to spend some other time . . .

I guess I could make a vacation out of four or five days if I planned it right. Four or five work days, plus a weekend, that's makes six or seven days if I arrange the days the right way. Hah! I can definitely make a vacation out of that.

Now, where to go. . .

Puerto Rico?

The Island of Enchantment. "... combining over 300 miles of the most beautiful beaches in the Caribbean, a large Tropical Rain forest, a Cave System millions of years old, Mountains, and a Dry Forest filled with Cactus ..."

There are pros to traveling to Puerto Rico. For starters, it's wicked cheap. Just for daydreaming, I searched through American Airlines and found a flight there for $99 and a return flight for $129 that both totally fit my schedule.

I have an adopted brother named Jorge who has family in Puerto Rico who might be a great asset to a vacation. And, of course, you don't need a passport, nor do you need to worry about customs.

And, I mean shit, who wouldn't want to go here:

Getting Married.

2009-02-25T06:42:00.000-08:00

Five.

Five weddings. I'm already, to some degree, involved with five weddings this year.

I'm a guest at two, the Maid of Honor for one, and a photographer for another two. And, hopefully this won't jinx it, but a close friend of mine put in a good word for me with a sixth couple that is getting married on the beach this year and is in need of a photographer.

If this isn't the year for wedded bliss, I don't know what is.

Let's hope none ends in divorce and let's keep our fingers crossed I get the sixth couple to commit to me as their photographer. I love photographing weddings.

Things I'm giving up for "Lent"

2009-02-25T05:57:00.000-08:00

I'm not Catholic, but I do love me some personal challenges.

Here's a list of things I'm cutting myself off from for the next forty days and forty nights . . . or at least trying to cut myself off from.

1. Myspace.
2. Chocolate. (yikes!)
3. Texting!!
4. Fast food (sit down, given a menu, have a waiter restaurants don't count. neither does Subway)
5. Staying up past midnight.

Are you giving anything up for Lent?

If you're not first, you're last.

2009-02-24T11:32:00.000-08:00

For the first time ever, I submitted a web design for approval from my bosses.

That was Friday. The lesser significant of the two men immediately responded with "it looks great. Nice upgrade." The more significant of the two didn't even look at the design until yesterday.

All weekend I was nervous -- wondering if he'd like it. If he even cared. Then, as I walked passed his office on the way back to my desk yesterday afternoon, he beckoned me, looked me dead in the eyes and said, "excellent work. When can we see this up and running?"

If I told you I didn't jump just the slightest bit off the ground, I'd be lying.

Once it's on the world wide web, I'll post a link for those interested in looking at it.

Special thanks to everyone who helped me along the way:

Patrick -- whenever I needed help on any of my assignments, you were just a phone call away and always knew how to fix things.

Ryan -- you've been a guiding light through this learning process for a long time now. I'm so grateful for you and your infinite expertise.

8 people from my life I miss most.

2009-02-24T06:54:00.000-08:00

Eight people I miss.

Miss –verb (used with object)

1.	to notice the absence or loss of

2.	to regret the absence or loss of

3. loss; want; felt absence

1. Aunt Terry - She moved to Citra when I was in high school and when I was finally old enough to appreciate her particular demeanor, she was far more tame than I recalled her being. She still had it, but -- maybe because of my age -- it seemed more reigned in than I recall. She passed away in August of 2002, just after Susan's birthday, and several months before my graduation. She didn't miss Jeff's or Susan's graduations and for mine, not even death could keep her away -- she was still with me that day in the form of the rain that fell. To this day, I wonder if she knew she had cancer before she moved up here. If I could cross the barrier between this world and the afterlife, she's the first person I'd want to talk to again.

2. Grandma Scott (Eloise) - Who wouldn't miss their grandma after she passed away? There isn't ever going to be another Eloise Scott in this world. There just isn't. She was a remarkable woman and, growing up, I feel like I knew her only as well as a child could. There are certain things I wish for in this world, and one of them relates to the death of the only grandfather I ever knew and one of my grandmas. I resent the way life works. I hate that the most intriguing and beautiful and wise people of my life all passed away before I was old enough to appreciate them and value their wealth of knowledge, experience, and stories. If there's one thing I've learned from the deaths of Grandma Scott and Aunt Terry (and my grandpa), it's that before I'm much older I will record stories my parents tell me, scan pictures of our heritage, and try to make something for their grandkids to keep and know our family history. My dad urged me a couple years ago to do this with Grandma, and I never got around to it. I regret that immensely now. But I won't make the same mistake twice.

3. Seth Fernandes - If I had to name one specific thing I miss about Seth, I would fail. I miss times like the one Susan and I drove to a house the whole band was living in, bearing cookies and milk for snack, to find Seth had cooked dinner for a house of about six people, plus us. I miss the time I flew to New Hampshire and he and Heather invited me to stay on their couch, then he and I spent an entire day doing mindless things just to spend the day together. I miss the way he'd excitedly tell me about whatever was new with him -- usually truck or hunting related. I miss the way he'd sit down and strum away on an acoustic and let me listen and smile. For the longest time I secretly held out hope he would move back to Gainesville with Heather and Isabelle. He's such a good friend to me.

4. Collin and Shannon - I miss them because they're ridiculously important to me. I photographed their wedding and took almost 1500 pictures -- that's how important they are. I used to drive to Gainesville every Thursday after class, go out with Susan to the local bar where Collin worked (and got free drinks), then drive Collin home at night and listen to him while he played any of several musical instruments he had in his apartment. I miss Shannon because she's one of most genuine and non-confrontational girls I know. She is so perfect, yet so humble and caring and considerate. (And she's tall like me.) When I met her, I knew there was something fantastic about her.

5. Gary - I miss him. I don't know what else to say. I feel like I end up writing about him a lot, but it's all founded material. We've known each other, and been friends, for 18 years now. I don't get to see him much these days, and it's starting to wear on me. It was just a few short months ago, I was stopping in the hardware store every afternoon after work to catch up with him, discuss our lives, and listen to some really good music. I want to go to the beach again soon . . . sort of in honor of him. I'll have to pick a day scheduled for beautiful waves.

6. Leslie - Of my peers, Leslie is the most inspiring. She is an artist - to the bone. She is creative in the physical arts, like sculpting and ceramics. But moreso, she is a phenomenon in the visual arts realm. She photographs like no other I know. Yet as at home as she is behind her various lenses and cameras, she is absolutely stunning in front of the camera and this quality is such a beautiful rarity. She encompasses everything I strive to be -- in touch with Earth, enveloped by happiness and optimism, living a more full life than I thought possible at our young age, and aiming to make changes in our world. And the last two times we sat together over food and drink, both our lives changed. The first of the last two times, we went through hundreds of photos to pick a select few to get her accepted into Ringling College of Art (I was honored she asked for my opinion). She got accepted. The second time we sat together at Harry's and, I don't know about her, but I walked away feeling like I'd never been more in touch with my goals, more spot on with my plans, and more certain about where I am in this world. And who I am. She draws passion and recognition of mortality, responsibility, and purpose out of me -- she inspires me to keep working toward what I want, even if what I want changes. Man, I miss her.

7. Cindy - I saw Cindy at Hobby Lobby a few months ago by now. We were supposed to get together over coffee or dinner and fill each other in on what's been happening in our respective lives all this time we've been out of touch. We never did. I miss her because sometimes I need her in my life and I think she doesn't realize that. And neither of us are gifted in the ways of keeping in touch or taking the initiative when it comes to getting together. Just the other day, she wrote me and invited me to lunch this week, but I can't do it because I'm moving and I'm overwhelmed. It seems to always be something. We live very, very different lives. And I'm not sure that we're able to be the incredibly inseperable friends we once were, and that's something I'm okay with as long as it doesn't mean we can't be friends at all. I miss the way we used to be continually on the same wavelength.

8. And, of course, Jon-Michael - I miss him because until the day comes that I get to fall asleep in our bed every night, wake up in our house, and live our life, I won't be as contented as I know I can be.

"If I could talk to my 8-year-old self, I'd say ...

2009-02-23T12:04:00.000-08:00

don't rush it, kid."

I sat here with a blank slate of a blog post window for 20 minutes reflecting on my childhood. There are events in my life that I do wish I could change, but none so poignant as my overall childhood wish to 'just grow up already.'

Today, at 24-years-old, I can still smell the scent of my elementary gifted teacher's aftershave. I can feel the texture of the rubber mats underneath our kindergarten playground. I don't feel like 24 years have gone by. But then, oh then, I could only dream of driving a car, getting a paycheck for designing dream houses for the rich, and traveling the world. What I would give to have back the days of the kindergarten playground and my Fisher Price town sets.

What would you say?

And as a side note:

Things I'd like to say to my co-worker.

2009-02-20T10:34:00.000-08:00

My dad joined the I.B.E.W. (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, Labor Union) when he was 19-years-old. He started at the beginning. Working his way up through the rankings, he earned several certifications in various trades within the Union. He has been able to travel to far and fascinating parts of the world and has met and worked with the most eclectic collection of people.

In my childhood there were people, famous and legendary people, I thought obtained experiences that I could never fathom knowing. But as I grew older, I learned my own father had more, and better, stories to tell than I could ever get from following the lives of the famous.

I grew up with the ideals of brotherhood and unions instilled in me. These ideals are in my blood. There are certain things I've been raised to understand. And I am grateful for those things; they make me a more humble and grateful person.

My co-worker, on the other hand, has been working for the I.B.E.W. for perhaps 7 years, but she is just an employee. She wasn't born into this industry. I certainly don't shun her for it, but I do wonder why she hasn't been more willing to learn the ideals. Or just plain be considerate. . .

With all that being said, I'd like to compile a list of things I want to say to her. And all of these things have come up directly as a result of behaviors of hers I have personally witnessed.

1. The members of this union pay your paycheck.

2. The next time you want rip someone a new one because they have 'tude on the phone, refer to reminder # 1.

3. The next time you cuss or hang up on a member of our union because they tell you they don't like your attitude, refer to reminder # 1.

4. The next time a member drives 2.5 hours to get to our office and sign the books, and you were planning on leaving earlier than our usual and official closing time of 5 PM, refer to reminder # 1.

5. The next time a member of our union gives you what you consider a "sob story," give him the benefit of the doubt, and refer to reminder # 1.

6. The next time someone doesn't understand what you're saying, don't TELL them they're not listening, help them by explaining it in a different way. . . and also, refer to reminder # 1.

For the time being, life couldn't be any better.

2009-02-19T08:35:00.000-08:00

This past weekend. Holy cow, this past weekend. My life was perfect this past weekend.

Saturday I took some things over to my house. I set up my television, DVD player and VCR. I unpacked all my books onto their shelves, put sheets on my bed because I really can’t stand a naked mattress (something I picked up from my better half), and brought over my bottle and camera collections.

Then shortly after I arrived, Jon-Michael showed up. As we hugged in the doorway, I felt something stuffed in the back of his shirt. I laughed and said something along the lines of “it appears you have a growth back here.” He pulled out a Frisbee – a gift he knew I would absolutely love.

I showed him how I’d arranged my room, we stood around for awhile talking about the house, and then we rode over to Wendy’s to grab so much. We brought it back and ate a meal on the floor in my future house – a house I will soon be eating all my meals in (can you tell I’m excited?).

After we ate, we watched Cool Runnings, a movie Jon-Michael had never seen in full and one of my all time favorite movies from my youth. Originally we were going to watch Made of Honor, but apparently something happened in the move and my DVD player is now broken.

After lunch, Jon-Michael went to work, I finished up some things at the house, and then drove to Angela’s to give her and Karen their Valentine’s Day gifts. I stayed for dinner, which was delicious, and watched part of Step Brothers and all of Hancock and then drove home.

I picked up some things at my future house, early Sunday afternoon, ran a couple errands in town and drove to Inverness to be with Jon-Michael. When I arrived at his house, Kenneth was there. The three of us threw a Frisbee in the back yard and a football, too. There’s something about being athletic and active with J.M. and Kenneth that makes me feel good. Kenneth is good at teaching me how to throw the football. And I’m already fairly skilled with the Frisbee (Jon-Michael would say when I paid attention to what I was doing, I was good). After maybe thirty minutes of light sports activities, Kenneth went home and Jon-Michael and I got ready to go out to dinner.

I got dressed and he cleaned up and he drove me to a seafood restaurant on the river in Hommosassa. Riverside Crab Shack, I think. The restaurant hangs out over the river, and in the river, maybe fifty feet out into the water is a small, partially man-made island with monkeys on it. Monkey Island it’s called. The monkeys were brought here to America to help perfect the Polio vaccine. After being brought here, they had to be sequestered on an island to keep them from thieving and ransacking residents and their homes.

After dinner, he and I returned home (but not before stopping for some mint chocolate chip ice cream), got into our pajamas, snuggled up on the couch and watched Made of Honor. When the movie was over, we played about three or four songs on Rock Band and then we laid down together for awhile and talked. By midnight thirty I was too tired to keep my eyes open, but J.M. had just gotten his second wind, as with his schedule, he typically does. So I stayed in bed while he got up and entertained himself with video games and other things I have no interest in.

When six A.M. Monday came around, Jon-Michael woke me up gently, put together a sweet and delicious breakfast for me, and saw me off to work. Just the kind of ideal morning I hope to have when we finally live together.

It’s Thursday now; the day after Jon-Michael’s birthday, and I have had the invaluable opportunity to see Jon-Michael six out of the last seven days. Last night I drove to his house after work, cooking him his first home-cooked meal in his new house (baked, herb-crusted chicken with potatoes au gratin and broccoli and baby carrots), visited with his family and watched part of (because I’m notorious for not being able to stay away through a movie) Vicky Christina Barcelona.

I have a toothbrush at Jon-Michael’s house now and a pair of shorts to sleep in. He bought me body wash and a poof for the shower. And is even considering letting me put a bed for Lucy and Blondie on the lanai, so I can bring them with me when I visit once I move (March 1st).

For the time being, life couldn’t be any better.

Eating is not a social activity.

2009-02-12T09:21:00.000-08:00

As I've mentioned a million gazillion times on here, I joined Sparkpeople.com in January.

Since joining, I've lost about four pounds simply by consciously deciding whether I'm hungry or not. When I quit going out to eat with my co-workers every day, I half expected the pounds to fall off. But they didn't, and that's fair. When I joined SP and started tracking what I eat, I realized it was never really what I ate, but more the portions that packed the pounds on.

I think part of America's issue with obesity is that we dine together as a social outing versus throwing a frisbee in the local park or going to the beach, or even a museum.

When I started eating predominantly for purpose rather than pleasure, I realized not only was I beginning to feel more satisfied with my meals, they were more savory, and they resulted in an uplifted energy level when looked at in comparison to my old ways.

It's amazing how a simple change like listening to your body and knowing the difference between feeling hungry and feeling thirsty. . . or worse, the difference between feeling hungry and feeling bored.

I haven't cut any foods out of my eating style. In fact, I had Moe's and Zaxby's in one day. Granted, that's obscene regardless of dieting, but I had been working all day long (and had a salad at Zaxby's).

I eat ice cream, but just half a cup.
I eat Hershey Kisses, but only a couple.

Nothing is suffering, especially myself. I've never been happier. I've found a way to consciously maintain a healthy eating style and not miss out on anything. It's fantastic.

I think it has a lot to do with actually considering my meals before I eat them. I get the impression that is something a lot of Americans (people in general), including my old self, do. We don't consider what we're eating. And how much. And that, coupled with a sedentary lifestyle, is precisely leads to overweightness.

And starting soon, I'll be hitting the gym again on a regular basis. I'm happy with the way and rate at which I've already started losing weight, but I honestly can't wait to kick start a serious exercise regimen to see the inches come off too!

Nothing to write home about...

2009-02-04T12:13:00.000-08:00

It's time to list things.

1. I called and ordered my Maid of Honor dress today. I've already tried it on, I just didn't have the money for it at the time. It's beautiful really. And it's something that I'll be able to wear more than once, luckily. When I go pick it up, I'm taking my shoes with me, wearing make-up, and having my hair pulled up nicely. That way I can get the full effect. I'm planning on having lost weight by then -- if I have, from what I understand, DB (David's Bridal) will swap the dress size free of charge. Sweet deal.

Another thing, the bride's maids are all going to be trying on dresses that day. It'll be the first time I get to meet all of them.

2. I'm losing weight. I joined an online weight-loss/wellness community where I track my meals and my fitness. I can get exercise strategies and suggestions on everything from working out, to eating, to make up and skin care. It's fantastic. I've even gotten coupons for groceries off the site.

Tomorrow morning is the first time I'll have stepped on a scale since about a week before I joined. I'm anxious to know if a week of counting calories and doing some light exercising will make any difference. Even if it doesn't, I know that I'm making healthy changes to my life. If the scale doesn't see them yet, I still know they're beneficial changes.

3. This weekend I'm going to do a substantial amount of preparing to move into my new place. I realize the official move is still about a month away, but I can afford to move things now because many things I'm taking over there are things I don't currently use daily -- like a queen sized bed.

I have to finish painting. But early next week, once the paint is dry, I would like to hang up my curtains and maybe some artwork in my room. Point being, I'm stoked about moving. Nervous, but stoked.

4. Christina Mayrhofer sent me a birthday package . . . FROM AUSTRIA. She's my Austrian pen pal and she's quickly become a fantastic friend. She's also involved on the 365 Photography Project. I'm really fond of her. She's taught me a lot... like how to say the Austrian equivalent of 'Bon Appetite' -- it's Mahlzeit!

5. My cat, Olive, got attacked by something. I'm sure, because he's a fucking bad ass, that he put up a good fight, but he did have two massive puncture wounds in his neck. The day before my birthday we took him to the vet, the vet lanced the wound (which was swollen to the size of a ping pong ball) and let it drain -- leaving a gaping hole in his neck the size of a dime. (this was necessary)

It then became my job to give Olive antibiotics (which he actually likes to eat) nightly, hold hot compresses on his neck for the first four nights, and .... prepare to barf .... stick a Q-tip in the giant gaping* hole in his neck to ensure that the wound heals from the inside out -- preventing internal infections.

*slight exaggeration

I don't have any inspiration to write anything worthy of reading lately. Maybe that'll change in the coming weeks, when I start to see a beautiful new me emerge from my current cocoon. =] LAME!

Parting Words.

2009-02-04T05:38:00.003-08:00

Shortly after a palliative care nurse suggested Preparation H as a treatment for my weeping induced under-eye bags, my mother, who was dying of cancer, opened her eyes and left me with these parting words of wisdom to sustain me after she died: "Whatever you do, Petunia, do NOT put ass cream on your face."

... makes me wonder what mine will be. Will I say something so profound?

Today has been a learning experience.

2009-01-28T09:30:00.001-08:00

I've realized:

cheese cake can be had for breakfast from time to time.
even when your c0-workers have been in foul moods, let it be. They might be fouly mooded because they were up all night trying to make you a red velvet cake from scratch.
there are few unexpected experiences in life. When a good one comes around (like a perfect stranger wishing you happy birthday before anyone you actually know), embrace it.
---- "Hey Alison! Sounds like today is a special day for you! We don't know each other (yet) but I sincerely hope that all your projects come true, that you’re very happy, that you may celebrate many, many birthdays! Happy birthday from Morocco " I received this on my wall on my penpaling site (interpals.net), from a young guy named Naoufal.
being involved with programs like Postcrossing and Interpals is more like being a member of a really large, but close family. You make relationships you'd never know if not for the site, you create bonds, write letters, and even get birthday wishes from friends you haven't met yet.
no matter which way the cleaning lady puts the toilet paper on the dispenser, I can still use it.
even the least selfish of people would still like to be lavishly smothered in a varying array of affections on special occasions. It's just nice to be reminded that someone loves you.
rainy day activities like long, luxurious showers and napping in a house with a tin roof eventually grow fewer. cherish the ones you have.
no where does it say that celebrating your life has to be done on the day of your birth. Throw a "we're grateful to be alive" party. And have all the attendees write down why -- and really put thought into it.

I'm not one for birthdays. . .

2009-01-28T06:34:00.001-08:00

Today, 24 years ago, I was born to two happy parents and a hopefully eager big brother and big sister.

As I've gotten older, the parties have gotten less important. While spending time with the people I care about has become my primary birthday wish. Last year's birthday celebration consisted of dinner at Golden Corral and bowling with my friends and siblings. But I couldn't even recall that until I searched for pictures. By the end of this year, I won't remember today's celebration either. But that doesn't mean it's not important to me. I just like low-key, close-knit friends, food, and laughter. That's all I ask for.

And I decided I'm terribly unkeen on surprises.

I can think of two times in my life that I was genuinely surprised. One was the morning of my 16th birthday when I opened my present from my dad. It was a matching sterling silver necklace and bracelet and I cried. a lot.

The only other time I can currently think of being genuinely surprised was for another landmark birthday (21) -- I flew to New Hampshire. My mom and I had lunch with Jon-Michael and Angela at Cracker Barrel. Jon-Michael gave me a card and told me to promise him I wouldn't open it until I got to the airport. Sitting on my duffel bag in line at my gate, I pulled his card out of the envelope, opened it, and started crying. a lot.

I don't like the idea of planning a celebration for my own birthday -- that's why I like getting together and doing something equally enjoyable for everyone (which means I don't need to open presents), coincidently, on or near my birthday.

And I don't secretly long for the day that someone throws me a surprise party. If it were to happen, I'd be overjoyed. But I wouldn't want it to be one of those awkward situations where people gradually leak niblets of information that eventually lead to me knowing in advance that when I arrive at my home, mysteriously, every single light in the house will be off -- even the nightlight. And when I walk through the door, there will be people in party hats hiding behind my couch -- all the points on all their hats, sticking up as incospicuously as possible.

I have the innate ability to dream big. This is a great and valuable trait. However, there are times that I get wind of the possibilities, and that trait I possess takes off like a whipped mule and before I know it, I've got expectations higher than Everest. I'm working on this, but it's difficult to reign in a quality that under most circumstances is fuel for a particular passion, like photography.

One ZERO TOLERANCE Policy: Racism.

2009-01-28T05:41:00.000-08:00

I wrote this for Myspace (on Monday, Jan 26), but it works here too.

After last Tuesday -- the inauguration day of the best chance of a better country we've been given in 8 years -- I witnessed more racism than I care to ever be affiliated with. And it's even more sad considering the only people with access to this profile are the people I consider my friends.

But I am no friend to a racist.

It's one thing to think Barack Obama will not do well for America because "he lacks experience." You're entitled to that opinion, and as much as I strongly disagree with it, I will still respect it.

But it's a completely different thing to say "he's going to destroy America" because his skin is darker than yours might be.

It blew my mind to read the names some of my "friends" were calling our newly elected President -- names I won't even repeat because such disgustingly malicious and unprecedented judgments don't come from my mouth and because the simple minded idiots who said them to begin with would most likely think, at the sight of those words, that I was agreeing with them.

It's after almost a week's consideration and deliberation with logical, respectable, anti-racism friends of mine that I have decided to delete any affiliation with any of the "friends" who publicly expressed their racism after the election of Barack Obama.

Slice it any way you like, but making derogatory statements about his skin pigment is racism. And implying because of his skin, he will make a terrible president is flat out, blatant racism.

And either way you slice it, I for one won't be tolerating it.

What makes you think because you're lighter in skin tone, you're more worthy of accomplishments or intelligence, or leadership? Slavery and white power both ended generations ago. Move on.

Get with the rest of us.

ONE world -- OUR world.

ONE race -- the HUMAN race.

We are all one entity.

With that being said, marking a full week President Obama has been rectifying some serious damages, tomorrow I'll be washing my hands of the racists I know -- and rectifying the damages made by having them in my life.

peace and good luck to you,
Alison.