Mandy's Musings

New photography blog!

2010-11-03T21:17:00.003-06:00

While my old photog blog has kept me mildly satisfied for the time being, I thought it was time to upgrade and go for something with a little more pizazz or zhush, if you will.

There's a whole new layout with lots of color (yay!) and a whole new address. But in the meantime, here's a little snippet of what's in store. Enjoy!

UPDATE: The new blog is up and ready to go so head over to www.mandalayimagesblog.com from now on to check out all that Mandalay Images has been up to!

Fake isn't always great

2010-09-04T06:58:00.000-06:00

Most people don't know that I'm not a born and bred Colorado chica. No, I was actually born in Oklahoma. Yee haw. Not a horrible place to live...if you like heat, humidity and tornadoes on a daily basis. Then yeah, it's your place! But while Oklahoma may not be my cup of tea now, we did have a pool in our backyard and we all used that thing like it was going out of style. So while I was perfecting my cannonballs and Olympic-esque backstroke (um, yeah right), I was also getting extremely tan. So tan in fact that my mom thought I was naturally darker complected than my super fair, blond haired cherubesque younger brother. This thought lasted until we moved to Colorado where there was snow of all things and no pool in the backyard. **Little note for the non-Coloradoans...pools in backyards here are very uncommon. Well, this meant that my tan started fading and my mom then realized I was truly the pasty Irish-English child I wasn't meant to be. Or as she put it, "as pale as a blade of grass that's been under a board all winter." Great.

Jump forward to summer of 2010. Prior to heading to the east coast to work with the hubs, I'd been going to a salon to get weekly spray tans. Call me vain if you want but I like to be tan. I personally feel better about myself...so there. I wish I could say that I'm confident in my pasty self but I'm not. So while Denver had a bevy of spray tan salons, northeastern Pennsylvania did not. And the one that I did hunt down had no idea what she was doing and sprayed my feet a color that was more akin to Michael Jackson pre 15 dozen surgeries. So I bit the bullet and went to an actual tanning place. I was totally breaking my own cardinal rule of no tanning beds after having a bout with skin cancer on my leg that left a scar similar to being gnawed on by a dog. But I was only going to go a few times just to get a good base and then I'd be good! Which is true. But one problem.......my legs flat out refused to get any color. They wouldn't budge from their pasty Irish-English roots. That's what I was most interested in getting tan anyhow! Sure, my stomach was pretty dark but it's not like I walk around rocking crop tops so it was a bit of a waste. I bought 2 different kinds of tanning lotions guaranteed to tan the "hard to tan" areas. Mmmm hmmm. Nada. Zilch.

What's a girl to do? It was time for plan D in the form of self tanner lotion. I wasn't expecting any miracles given my past disappointing experiences with them but this time, oh this time I found me a winner! The Banana Boat Summer Color must have changed their formula since I used it last because it rocks. My legs were "just got back from 3 months in Cabo" dark after just one application. And no streaks! Yes, it's an odd combo but I'm gonna roll with it.

In my "research" for this post, I came across some images of folks that may have abused the tanning a little bit. Maybe. Just a little bit. But hey, what do I know?!?

Please tell me they're doing a parody of Jersey Shore because otherwise I may just faint.

Hmmm, so many things in this picture deserve a comment but oh where to start!

If only she hadn't put those last 5 layers on her face, everything else would be acceptable.

I'm utterly speechless. Don't even know where to begin.

The long winter's nap is over

2010-07-26T09:54:00.000-06:00

This poor little blog has been a little neglected. Oh there's been plenty going on in my life the last 3 months but I wasn't sure how to put it all into words as I was a little ferklempt about everything. So...where to begin. Go back to mid April when things were rolling along smoothly and the hubby got a call from his (and mine too) old boss, offering us both a job doing what we used to with a pretty decent pay raise. And he needed an answer by the end of the day. Oh okay! Trying to decide if you're going to uproot your life in just a few hours kinda makes you a little stressed. But the pros did outweigh the cons and we made plans to pack up and head East. Leaving the job I had was a no-brainer as it was beyond horrible as far as working conditions go but I was sad to be leaving all the great things behind: friends, family, our church and my photography business was starting to take off. But with this job opportunity would come financial security; something the job I was leaving didn't and wouldn't offer. And financial security is pretty attractive if you ask me!

We've been out here in Pennsylvania since early May and there have been moments where I've been veeery tempted to pack my car back up and head west. It's very humid here...and I hate humidity. We are living in a motel room and are literally just at an exit off the highway in the middle of nowhere. People and drivers out here are beyond aggressive and rude. So yes, I miss home a lot. But I'm keeping the big picture in focus, have my Big Girl Pants on and am just going with the flow for now.

30 years of greatness

2010-04-29T10:07:00.001-06:00

April 15th...it's synonomous with a few not-so-great dates: Abe Lincoln's death, the Titanic sinking, and of course...Tax Day! But it also shares the day with one pretty sweet (in my not so humble opinion), my birthday! April 15, 2010 marked my 30th birthday. That's right...30. Three-zero. Wow, kinda makes me feel a little old. But at the same time, it doesn't. I've accomplished a lot in my 30 years on the ole planet and I'm at a great place in my life so who the heck cares what the number is??? I have a superbly amazing husband who I absolutely adore and admire, a wonderful family (both biological and of the in-law variety), a great group of friends, a sweet if not neurotic dog, a photography business that is building pretty quickly. Yeah, life pretty much is going swimmingly. So, here's to a great 30 years ol' girl and to the next 30...you rock!

Product review

2010-04-09T08:44:00.000-06:00

It's not very often that I buy something that leaves me compelled to really complain about it. Sure, I've bought things that I don't like but it's more of an "eh, whatever" kinda moment. However, I've made a couple purchases recently that have left me in a state of "I will never buy this again...even if it's on sale for a penny!" They're that bad.

The first thing is Cottonelle Bath Tissue. Who calls it bath tissue? It's toilet paper folks! Let's stop trying to be PC and call it what it is! I originally bought it because A) it was on super sale and B) who doesn't love the super cute Lab puppy in all the commercials? Personally I think they could get a better voice over than Zach Braff but that's neither here nor there. It says it has aloe and ripples and all over sorts of features. Can't be bad, right? Wrong. This stuff is not durable at all. Don't even try and think of blowing your nose with this stuff because it rips and you end up with nasal juices all over your hands. Yes, I blow my nose with toilet paper when I'm too lazy to search the house for the one tissue box we have. Also, it leaves those dastardly toilet paper lint balls all over. Case in point: I use toilet paper to remove mascara remnants off my eyelash curler. (Yes, I curl my lashes AFTER I put mascara on...it's the only way they stay curled) When I then go to curl me lashes, I'm left with little white clumps of toilet paper in my lashes. Not the glam look I'm going for. The hubby is a HUGE fan of Cottonelle but since I'm the one who does all the grocery/superstore shopping, we're going with Charmin. Big fan and it's nose-blowing safe.

Up next is the Neutrogena Wave face cleaner do-hickie. This little gadget is the vibrating face cleanser. One blogger I follow just bought the Clarisonic face cleaner and raves about it but at $199, that's a little out of my price range...especially for something that washes my face! I know it's supposed to do wonders for your skin but I'm not dropping a couple of Benjamins on it. So I decided to give the Wave a try after reading mainly positive reviews and it's definitely more in the Mandy price range of $13. Throw in a $4 off coupon and I was the proud owner of the blue Wave. I wanted the hot pink one but whatever. It came with 14 face cleaning pads that are filled with cleanser that are supposed to foam up when activated by water and off you go vibrating over your lil face. You may have seen the commercials and the girl's face is covered in foam! Not exactly the case with the real life version. I saw one pencil-eraser sized bubble on my face. To say I was disappointed was an understatement. I did, however, take a cue from one of the not-so-positive reviews I read on the Wave and put my own cleanser on the pad and it worked much better. I even put a little exfoliater on the pads and vibrate away. I'm not sure if I'll buy more of the pads when I run out...it just seems like a waste.

So there you have it...a couple-a products that I think are a big drop in the bucket. In the words of Reading Rainbow..."but you don't have to take my word for it."

Time well spent?

2010-03-08T15:01:00.005-07:00

I've taken a much needed and enjoyed break from blogging, aside from my photography blog, which is always going to be updated. But this personal one took a backseat for awhile. A month ago, I was dealing with some issues, if you want to call them that, and taking the time to deal with them and put the keyboard to rest was what I needed. I was blessed with meeting someone (not romantically, sheesh!) that helped put me back on track to a happier self. While I know that it isn't as easy as a snap of the fingers, I have noticed a big difference in how I'm handling things and my overall outlook on things. Basically, I'm getting back to how I was. Yeah, I still have "moments" where I get annoyed and mad but that's life. I didn't morph into Rainbow Brite...I just got rid of some demons on my back.

With that being said, I've become extremely aware of the amount of Negative Nancies running around. Good grief, were they always around or am I just noticing them now that I'm feeling happier? One blog in particular I follow (and have been for over a year now) has quite possibly the biggest bunch of haters following her blog. And they're taking it to a beyond low level: calling her a bad mother, saying she's a greedy child-exploiting monger, bringing to light domestic issues she had with her husband, and the list goes on and on. Yes, you get to "know" someone through their blog but my word, get a life! What I find funny and ironic is the nay sayers go on and on ad nauseum about how much they dislike her and call her basically a lying human being; that they don't like the way she writes things or what she posts. If you hate her so much, why are you taking the time to follow her blog and comment on her goings on? And it's HER blog...not yours folks. I think she can write whatever she wants...or I may be wrong...you do know her better! Have you nothing better to do than try and make her feel as miserable as you obviously feel? My only guess is that these people are so unhappy in their own life that they feel it's their "calling" to try and bring her down to their miserable level. Seriously, how much time do you have on your hands? I'd love some of that free time! Okay...rant over :)

Now I'm going back to my life that I feel is blessed and for which I'm extremely thankful for! Peace out Murky Dismal!

Am I there yet?

2010-02-07T18:22:00.007-07:00

They say that, that which does not kill you makes you stronger. Who is "they"? I can't remember right now but there are times I want to call they up and say, really? What did you go through? My wise mother, who has given me years of insight and advice, once told me, the Lord won't give you more than you can handle. And while I believe her, or maybe it's just want to believe her, I'm ready to throw my hands up and say 'Mercy!' I want to say, Lord, I can't take much more...I'm at my breaking point!...Please give me a break, cut me some slack, let me love life again and be happy. It hasn't been until just recently that I realized I'm just a shell of my former self. Man, I was fun, light-hearted, entertaining, always doing something dumb because it seemed fun. I even used to get complimented on my smile all the time. Wow, I can't even remember the last time that happened...mainly because I don't do it much anymore. Or that on the occasions I start laughing and smiling really hard, it doesn't take much to make my cheeks hurt because those smile muscles don't get used much lately. How sad is that? It finally came to me why I'd turned into this shell of a person who constantly suffers from chest pains because she's so stressed.

Now while this is my blog and I'm usually brutally honest, there are some things that I just can't fully divulge here. There are a very few select people who know it all and I trust them implicitly not to discuss it with anyone other than us. This post is raw and honest and I'm sorry if you're shocked at some things said but this is me and what I'm trying to fix. That being said, I'd say things started to go downhill (for lack of a better term) during the last months of 2006. I decided to move to Denver to get a "real job" and was initially stoked to get a great paying job that allowed me to travel, keep busy and also allowed me the opportunity to meet this amazing guy from Michigan. And while I was ecstatic with the new relationship I was in, I was also in a working environment that no one should ever have to deal with: blatant sexual harassment, ending up in the hospital with pneumonia because I'd worked 4 months straight with no days off and wasn't allowed to rest when sick, constantly being told I was worthless and sub-par by my boss even though the work I was doing was top-notch and executives at companies were telling me the exact opposite. Why did I stay? Well, I had bills and there weren't any jobs running around with a comparable salary and I wasn't willing to be homeless and car-less. So I stuck it out and kept my eye out for something better. During the spring of 2007, my company went bankrupt and we were all laid off. I remember crying at the time because, who likes losing a job even if your boss is the devil incarnate? But if was a blessing in disguise and I quickly found another job that paid better and for once I was in an atmosphere where I was treated decently and while I wasn't curing cancer or doing rocket science, I enjoyed my job.

Life seemed to be stabilizing a bit and my relationship with Mr. Wonderful was progressing to the point where we were making plans for him to move to Colorado to be with me. Finally. After all the phone calls and text message bills so out of control that even I'm amazed I managed to sneak them into my weekly expense report (shhhh, I know it wasn't right but I justified it by putting up with a boss who commented on my butt and chest size), we were going to be together. 2 weeks before he was supposed to arrive, I got the news that he'd been given the opportunity to work for a company that would pay really well...in Indiana. I was crushed. I don't think I had cried that hard since being dumped by my last boyfriend and that guy takes the Eternal Award for D-bag Boyfriends. I was convinced that this was the end of us and this was his way out. Hey, being in an endless series of relationships with major jerks tends to make you not believe Mr. Wonderful when he tells you he's taking the job so he can save money for our future family. I was hurt that he'd "chosen his job over me" and it made me a wee bit (read: hugely) on the bitter side. It affected our relationship greatly and I did make the decision that if when my lease was up on September of 2008 and we weren't making plans of somehow being together everyday, I couldn't do it anymore. It didn't have anything to do with my not loving him, it was the exact opposite. It literally broke my heart every time I had to drive to the airport to drop him off from his latest visit and drive back home or to work in a sobbing mess, feeling like my heart had been ripped out. I just couldn't take the heartache anymore. Call it any ultimatum if you want, I don't. I wasn't saying 'pick me or your job'. I was saying that the long-distance was too damn hard on me and I just wasn't strong enough to continue on with it with no end in sight. I don't know of any couple that would enjoy a long-distance relationship where there's no plan of being together.

Fast forward to July 2008 and arrangements had been made for me to come and work with Mr. Wonderful in Indiana. I was more than a little scared to go, to be honest. I'd uprooted my life before for boyfriends and those crashed and burned. Here I was leaving great friends, a great job that I loved, a house (albeit a rental) I loved living in, I'd have to leave my dog. And all I could think about was if I left it all behind, how did I know that things would work out with Mr. Wonderful and he wouldn't dump me in the land of the Hoosiers? I didn't. I was just scared to put myself out there again. But like my once-again wise mama said, "he isn't like D-bag Numero uno...I just know he wouldn't do that to you." And so I trusted that it would be okay, that we'd be okay. And we were. We got engaged, started planning a wedding and making plans to eventually move back to Colorado to get away from the hotel-dwelling lifestyle we were in. However, that happened a lot sooner than we were expecting when I was laid off and he 2 weeks later due to the tanking economy. We decided to go to the courthouse and get legally married, all the while still planning for the mountain ceremony in the fall. I found a job right away but I admit I took it in desperation. We'd socked away quite a pretty penny for the wedding and I didn't want to go through it all while waiting for a job. So I took a job that paid me substantially less than any job I'd had in the last 3 years. While I was excited for this new job at first for how greatly they helped those in need, it soon became clear that some of the employees felt no need to treat employees with respect. Instead, talking to you like you were a mentally challenged 5-year old was more the norm. Let me tell ya, dealing with that everyday for almost a year gets to you. While it initially seemed easy to leave your work problems at work and head home to your husband, getting that treatment all day, everyday wears on you. You become bitter. You have a very short fuse. You snap at people and are swearing waaaay more often than you should. Where you once used to take pride in your work, you now could care less because some coworkers think you're stupid and suck regardless so what's the point of trying to do a good job? And then you call in sick one day when you're really not sick but in fact you're taking a self-prescribed Mental Health Day because you know your mental health isn't doing so hot and the term "going postal" doesn't seem too far off.

Then just a short month after the actual wedding, Mr. Wonderful gets the news that his current job is going to drastically reduce his pay to what most high-schoolers make and gets a job offer from our former employer that he really couldn't pass up. The economy was getting worse and there were no good jobs to be had. So off he went to the east coast and I stayed behind. And again I was wrought with the why's. Why couldn't the job be here in Colorado? Why did he have to leave a month after our wedding? Why couldn't I just get to be with the one person I wanted to be with the most? Why do I have to be separated from my husband of a month? I was mad, mad at everything. Which turned into everyone. And I felt lost, disconnected. Call it depressed if you will but lost seemed to fit better.

Now I'm pretty sure I've realized how I've become this person. I've been dealing with constant high-stress since the summer of 2006. The things I've listed may seem trivial to you but like I said earlier, there are things that have gone on that I am not listing here and they trump all of the things I did list. Anyway, high-stress since the summer of oh-six. I'm no psychologist but dealing with such high-stress non-stop for over 3 years can change a person. It can turn you into a mess. I've finally reached the point where I can't take it anymore. No no no, I'm not talking about hopping in the bathtub with a butter knife and a handful of Prozac. I'm talking about weeding out the stresses in my life in hopes of getting Me back. Some may be easy, some could be extremely difficult but I feel I've reached my breaking point so I have to try. I want to again find joy in the things that gave me joy, to get rid of the constant anxiety and chest pains. To find who I was.

Me want now...fine, I'll settle with "before summer".

2010-01-22T11:12:00.011-07:00

I'm a girl; I have wants and needs. Thankfully I have matured enough to differentiate between what a real "need" is; unlike the 21-year old girl who thought the purple snakeskin-print pants were a need. I won't even go into how much they cost...it was obscene. I had serious buyers remorse and returned them. Now that I'm older and wiser (ha!), I can honestly say that I know when something really isn't a necessity. Even if stepping away from the shoes causes the shakes, I know they're only a want. Sniff.

With that being said, I'm a shoe girl. I'm always lusting after shoes. Ooohing and ahhhing after shoes that are usually way expensive. That's how it always works out: the shoes I like are more than a month's rent. Apartment...shoes...apartment...shoes! Yes, I'm homeless but don't my feet look hot! Living in a climate where it's arctic-like and covered in snow and slush several months out of the year doesn't exactly make for my closet being filled with heels. No, those days are usually Ugg days and there's only so much you can do with those. Oh, but with high heels, you are transformed into a waltzing vision! At least in my mind I am. So here are a few shoes I'm currently lusting after and maybe, just maybe they'll make it into my closet this year. Maybe. Or I'll do it when hubby isn't around and I'll just tell them I've had them forever!

These C'est Moi booties are just divine. They'd look oh-so-cute with some tights and a skirt. Drool.

These are probably not so work appropriate but I love the glitter. Speaking of glitter, I first saw them on Mariah Carey but we'll forgive her. And I saw them on one of Tiger's ladies too...hmmm. Who cares, I like 'em!

I'm lovin' these little beauties. I like the pointy-toe black heels; I think they're classy and look great with dress slacks AND jeans. My non-Loubie look alikes are looking a little sad...especially since I had to touch up some scratches and smudges with a Sharpie so they didn't look quite so trashy. Not that a Sharpied shoe looks less trashy...I'm just sayin'.

These. Ah. These are probably at the top of my lust list. That has a nice ring to it. Yes, they have spikes on them. And that's what I like about them. The Mary Jane style makes you think, "oh, these are respectable" but then you hit 'em with the spikes and the respect is gone! Hence their name...the Mad Mary. Oh yeah!
But for now, I will continue to be responsible and pay bills (gag) and save toward at least one pair of these honeys. Until we meet again!

It's not fat, it's muscle...

2010-01-15T08:46:00.004-07:00

We all know the oh-so-flattering words: cankles, thankles, tree-trunk legs. I could go on and on. No girl wants to have fat legs, admit it. So when I reached the age where I started wearing fashionable knee high boots, I realized I was doomed. I was a girl with thick legs. Let me just stop you before you start conjuring up a mental image of just how I look.

It was in high school that I realized something was up. I'm 5'7", have been forever it seems. In my teenage years, I had a metabolism of the freaking Energizer bunny. I was around 90 pounds. At that height, it's not an attractive look but I was eating enough to fulfill the varsity football team so it's not like I was trying to look like Kate Moss, a la the '90's. I began to realize that while I was probably the skinniest girl in my high school, my legs were not. Or rather, my calves weren't. But being the smart girl I was, I realized that because I was so freaking skinny, my legs were just all muscle...not fat. Hey, no high school girl (or woman in general) wants to think about any part of her body being fat. But while I was glad my legs were just muscular and not fat, it still posed a problem when it came to wearing the knee high boots I started coveting in college.

The problem was they wouldn't go around my calves. And it's not like you can go walking around with your knee high boots only zipped up halfway. I doubt that's a trend that will ever stick. Apparently most boots are made for girls with legs of a 10 year old. Me, I've got Gerda the Swedish Lumberjack's legs. Lucky me. But in all honesty, I don't really think about it that often. Until a couple months ago when I was in pursuit of some new riding boots to wear horseback riding. I'll tell ya right now that riding boots are made for the girls with Ethiopian legs. Let me tell ya, it's kinda embarrassing to be 5'7" tall, a size 4 and have to look for boots that are either Wide or Extra Wide. I managed to find some boots (wide, thank you) and it reminded me of the last time I bought riding boots and The Incident. Yes, there was an incident.

Back in 2002, I decided I wanted to pick up riding horses again. So off I went in search of some riding boots online. I found the same brand and style I'd worn as a kid and thought, these worked great when I was young so they must work great now! Ahem. The boots arrived and I tore into them in the middle of the living room; pulled up my pant legs and started to pull them on. As I'm pulling them on, they start getting really snug around the calves. I start seriously struggling to get them on. And by struggling, I mean grunting, groaning, yelling, and probably some swearing. As I'm burning hundreds of calories doing this, a tiny thought pops into my head: stop killing yourself dummy...they don't fit. But no, I pushed on. And finally! Finally I got them on. And they didn't fit. They were huge around the ankle and my foot was slopping around inside. Not exactly what you want when you're trying to control a horse with your legs and feet. Figures. So back on the floor I went to pull them off. It was then I realized we had a problem. They wouldn't budge. Apparently a vacuum was created because of how snug they were around my calf so the harder I pulled, the tighter they became. It was like one of those stupid Chinese finger traps you messed around with as a kid. I grab the ankle and start yanking, twisting, anything I can think of to loosen the boot's killer grip. I had my leg in an angle that usually only babies can pull off. I even considered taking a pair of scissors to the boot to get it off; that seemed the only possible option left to me. (Mind you, my roommates were gone so I was doing this alone.) After an HOUR of torture, I finally got the boot off and spent the next 10 minutes recovering on the floor.

So, while most girls don't have to worry about if a boot will fit over their well endowed legs, I do. I can't wear jeans under my Uggs, I have to pull my jeans off by the ankles first and my riding boots have to have the zipper up the back. But I guarantee these legs will give a nasty kick if messed with!

My eyes! My eyes!

2009-12-29T11:35:00.004-07:00

When Christmas rolls around, there's one thing you can count on:

Mariah Carey rolling into Aspen dressed in some seriously hoochified outfit.

She needs to stop visiting and/or stop wearing the ridiculous outfits when she's there. She's giving my state a bad name. While I'm all about trying to look somewhat cute during the long, cold, snowy winters in Colorado, there's no way I'd stoop down to the level that is Mariah.

Had yourself a Merry little Christmas!

2009-12-29T10:01:00.013-07:00

This year's Christmas was a good one, I'd say. The last couple of months have been a bit of a rollercoaster; what with the husband having to go back to work...in Pennsylvania of all freaking places (thank you crappy economy). While it is beyond sucky that he is almost 2,000 miles away from me, we are thankful that he has a job and isn't just another unemployed statistic. It's a temporary situation and I'm trying to stay upbeat about it. Yes, even behind the plasticky grin I put on at work when talking about how grateful we are for the opportunity are the moments when I want to put my fist through a wall thinking about how much I hate being separated from my husband. It really sucks.

With that little moment being said, I was excited for this year's Christmas as it would a couple of firsts: first Christmas as a little married couple and first Christmas I did some major decorating. Well, as major as you can get in a 3rd floor apartment with 2 windows and a balconey. Woo hoo! I even bought a live tree from Lowe's. While I'm all for supporting the small, local businesses, I am not all for supporting spending $60 on a tree that is taller than me that I will then have to haul up 3 flights of stairs by use of Finley in a harness. Sorry. I went to Lowe's because I know they have the smaller (read: cheaper) trees that are better suited to being thrown into the back of the Jeep and then carried by yours truly upstairs alone since the husband is in stupid PA. The 5 foot Nordic Fir (how exotic!) I wrangled home was about as heavy as I wanted to go. There was some serious huffing and puffing going on when I got it to the door. I brought it in, set it up in its stand and voila! We have tree. Made me glad the Finster is a girl so I don't have to worry about her marking her territory all over Charlie Brown's tree.

I waited to do the decorating until the husband came home. I know, a very cute coupley activity.

We only did the front of the tree since the back was shoved into a corner, thanks to a slightly cramped apartment and oversized furniture. Finley tried to help, as she always does when it comes to any activity that involves sitting on the floor. She still thinks she is appropriately lap size...she is not.

With the tree all done, all we had to do was wait until Christmas was upon us. I took off all of Eve off to spend with the husband and do coupley things. I believe we visited Walmart...how domestically exotic...and insane of us to go on Christmas Eve. I wanted to murder someone...or myself. I suppose the one thing I do really get most excited about when it comes to Christmas, is the Christmas Eve candlelight service at church. This year would be the first year I would not be going to my parent's church, the one I'd attended for the last 11 or 12 Christmases. There were a few reasons for this, one of them being my younger brother was infected with the Swine Flu. Oh, I'm sorry...H1N1...gotta stay politically correct. And while I love my brother, I did not want to get within 3 counties of Swine Flu. My immune system is lacking most of the time and I did not want to partake in anything swine. So off we went to our church, which I'm a huge fan of and we were not disappointed. I got all gussied up (yes, I used gussied) in my finest Forever21 dress and some Louboutin's because every Colorado girl knows that they are great to wear in the snow! Great traction! Not so much. I was walking around like a 90 year old with a new hip. But you have to suffer for fashion sometimes.

The service was pretty awesome and we headed home to open some gifts but not before making a stop at the culinary experience that is Taco Bell. We roll high class 'round these parts.

After having been laid off last winter and taking a job with an, ahem, lower salary, my gifts to husband were not as extravagant or numerous as last year BUT they were all bought with love. He's pretty fashionable and I did manage to find him some pretty sweet plaid golf pants that I might steal if they were a little smaller. Lucky him. Among the sweet gifts the husband got me: skeleton key necklace from Tiffany's I mentioned months ago and new camera and lenses to kick start my photography business,

was a gift to both of us from Santa. I'm not sure what I was expecting but I think Santa made a mistake in his tag labeling. It was clearly a gift for one specific person. I did give an "I'm so shocked" look for the camera though.

We had a wonderful Christmas, just the 2 of us, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It was nice to spend time together. I mean, I married this guy...I like to be around him a lot. Go figure! We took quite a few pictures, including the obligatory arm-way-out-self-picture picture,

and a few of Finley that I'm sure are causing her to consider killing me in my sleep for putting her through the things I do. She doesn't like to model.

I hope you all had as great a Christmas as we did!

Can I recommend an anger management specialist?

2009-12-28T12:00:00.005-07:00

I enjoy my Sundays. It usually entails dressing a little snazzier than normal and hitting up the nearby Starbucks for a grande non-fat chai before heading over to church. This was all the case yesterday with a little Chipotle for lunch thrown in afterward. Now I'm wishing I'd said 'Olive Garden' instead of going with the Chipotle option. Our local burrito joint is in a strip mall type shopping center that is always packed and sometimes can be a little interesting to get into if there are multiple cars. Pulling in yesterday, this gentlemen (ha, anything but) was taking up more than his share of the lane and I couldn't get past him. And he just sat there and didn't make any attempt to move over. Fine, be that way. My only "interaction" with him, if you even want to call it that, was me telling him from inside my car to "move it over dude!" with a raised voice. He wasn't moving over and I could see him screaming at me from inside his car as I finally squeaked by. Whatever. Just another ignorant driver. We parked and headed inside and I happened to look outside and see the screamer circling back into the parking lot, quite obviously looking at my car. I pointed him out to the husband and while he turned around to continue checking out the menu, I kept my eyes on this guy. He circled the lot again and this time, pulled into a parking spot and started heading for Chipotle. Now, I like to think I'm somewhat level-headed but I also watch way too much Dateline and read too much news. All I'm thinking is: wacko, going to beat me up, probably has a gun, bad bad bad. I tried to remain calm (not happening) and hiss to the hubs that the guy is coming in to find us and probably kill us. I hear the door open behind me and he walks right up, gets all up in the hubs bizness and starts going off in what can only be described as idiotic behavior. "Yo man, what's your problem?" Um, what? That was pretty much our response too. We had no idea what the guy was talking about. Again, "you gotta problem with me man?" Again, we had the same response and my heart was seriously trying to make its way up my throat. Although this guy was my height, all I can envision is one of us getting popped in the face. Then Mr. Calm and Rational tells us what we "did" to make him come and hunt us down. "You were screaming at me and throwing gestures." First off, there was no screaming...I'm not a screamer. And props to you if you could hear screaming through 2 sets of car doors; you must be so proud of your super sonic hearing. Secondly, there were no gestures. Sorry, we're not 'gesture' people. Dude, you might want to get your vision and your hearing checked out. On second thought, get your brain checked out, you delusional wacko. I didn't have much to say, other than "what are you talking about", mainly because I was totally freaked out. I don't do well when people I know yell at me, let alone some wacko stranger in a restaurant. Finally he walks off with a super cool "whatever" and I let off with "yeah, real smart following us in here idiot." Not one of my coolest comebacks but hey, I was freaked out and was shaking and now my happy Sunday high was utterly squashed.

Now while the husband was telling me it was no big deal and not to worry, I'm envisioning future events worthy of a Dateline special. One's involving baseball bats to windshields. After we got home with our lunches, I kept peeking out the window halfway expecting to see the guy slashing my tires or leaning against the bumper with a shotgun waiting for me to come out to finish me off. Yes, I know I watch too much TV but I also have a mind that likes to run away with itself.

While I'm now pretty much over the incident, I will say that I am now terrified to even open my mouth if someone were to swerve deliberately in my direction. Maybe it will keep me from getting full on stalked and harassed in a burrito joint again.

Randomness

2009-12-23T13:23:00.003-07:00

My mind works in random thoughts. Can be kinda annoying at times as I'm always forgetting what I was thinking about but can be quite entertaining for others..."speaking of getting my tetanus shot today, I need some new clothes." See? Random and not at all connected. So earlier today (I use 'so' a lot...maybe I should stop doing that) after seeing a super cute pic of a super cute French Bulldog, I actually entertained the idea of getting a 2nd, small dog for all of 4 minutes. How cute and cuddly and tote-able they are. So off I went to the Animal Planet website's Dog Breed Selector (can you tell I've visited it before?) and waited for it to tell me what small dog we'd now be the proud parents of.

See, the hubs and I have talked about adding another furkid to the fam but we've decided (more him than me; him being the more intelligent, level headed thinker) that it needs to wait until we have a house with a yard. A 3rd story, 2 bed 2 bath apartment with lots of furniture is drawing the line when you already have a dog/wacko like Finley. All I'll say is I'm sure our downstairs neighbors hate us & her. She's exhuberant I like to say.

The results are in: it said my choices were most compatible with a miniature American Eskimo dog. Um, no in all areas. 1) it has waaaay too much hair. 2) it has waaaay too much hair. Sorry, I don't do that kind of grooming. Finley's great in that she's wash-n-wear and because she has such short hair, I hardly brush her. That makes me sound like an awesome mom. Not satisfied with Animal Planet's obviously faulty system, I decide to check out their info on the aforementioned super cute Frenchie. As I'm reading through the breed's traits, I realize that yet again, my soft spot for all things dog has clouded my mind. It doesn't like hot weather (CO can get a little toasty during the summer), it snores, it drools, it doesn't like to swim (a fave Finley activity) and it has quite a few health concerns. Add that to the fact that Finley plays pretty rough. I blame that on her upbringing of going to work with me everyday as a puppy and getting worked by all the bigger, older dogs. She likes to shoulder check and will full on tackle you. There was also the "incident" involving a baby bunny a few years ago that thankfully I was not witness to, just heard about from my mom. Finley is a hunting dog from working hunting dog parents...she has a thing for small furry creatures. And not a good thing. Okay, so maybe I should just abandon this 2nd dog idea for a bit.

It's time to give back!

2009-12-18T09:25:00.005-07:00

So I've been neglecting the ol' blog but all my mind had been able to think about when it comes to blog topics is how frustrated I was with my husband's work and how they still hadn't told him when he was coming home for Christmas as of last Friday. I doubt anyone wants to read a months worth of complaining, moody, hot mess. I get tired of it! While most people do their 'giving' around the holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas), there really is no reason why you can't do it year round. Glamour magazine puts out this pretty nifty (yes, I said nifty) list: 31 Days of Giving.

Yes, it's meant for the holiday months but since I'm such a whiny procrastinator, I'm doing it now as I'm sure we can all find some things on here that we can do for others. Heck, why not spread it out over a year so you do all of them? Ease back on those daily Starbuck visits and put it toward something....helpful.

Help get PJs to kids in shelters so they won't have to sleep in their clothes by giving just $10 at www.pajamaprogram.org.
Mentor a struggling student online at www.icouldbe.org. Studies suggest that a little boost can double a kid's chance of going to college.
Donate books you've already read to your library.
End homelessness through soccer: $10 to www.streetsoccerusa.org helps a homeless person meet challenges on and off the field.
Fight malnutrition. A $1 gift to www.vitaminangels.org will provide much-needed vitamin supplements to children in places like Honduras and Haiti.
Tend a garden. $5 to www.dinnergarden.org buys seeds for enough veggies to feed a struggling family of 7.
Do some pro bono work. Whether you're in marketing or IT, www.taprootfoundations.org can match you with a non-profit in your community that needs your skills.
Get lifesaving malaria medication to 10 children by donating $25 to www.savethechildren.org
Click and give...at www.care2.org, every click you make prompts a sponsor to make a donation that will fight breast cancer, global warming and more.
...or surf and give. Use GoodSearch to find what you're looking for online, and every search will send money to the cause of your choice.
Regift. Turn gift cards you'll never use into donations to your favorite charity at www.plasticjungle.com.
Provide solar power. $50 to www.goodgifts.org will send and African village a solar lamp, stove and water heater.
Prevent a disease. A $50 donation will allow www.doctorswithoutborders.org to vaccinate 50 people against meningitis, polio and other diseases.
Send a free holiday card to a soldier abroad via www.redcross.org/email/saf
Have a potluck with your friends instead of going out - give the $35 you save to www.strength.org to feed a child for a month.
Keep someones lights on. Even $5 at www.smallcanbebig.org makes a difference to a family who needs help with bills due to illness or domestic violence.
Inspire a leader. A donation to the Binti Pamoja Center (their center means "daughters united" in Swahili) helps a girl in a Kenyan slum pay for school and learn how to be a community leader.
Keep girls on the team. Giving to Robin Roberts GoGirlGo! Fund www.womenssportsfoundation.org will help girls displaced by Hurricane Katrina stay in sports.
Help those helping others. $150 to www.homebasedcarealliance.org will supply medicine plus sterile gloves and a bicycle to a caregiver for people living with HIV in sub-Saharan Africa.
Reach out to the new kid. $35 buys a winter coat for a resettled refugee in the US at www.theirc.org
Feed 4 children in Tanzania a healthy breakfast for just $1 at www.gocampaign.org, a non-profit run with the help of kids from the US.
Warm toes. $5 to www.hannahssocks.org buys seven pairs for a homeless person.
Play trivia. At www.freekibbles.com, every answer - right or wrong - sends 10 pieces of dog food to an animal shelter in need.
Help women recover after childbirth. www.fistulafoundation.org helps train doctors to care for the 2 to 3 million women who have injuries from prolonged or obstructed labor.
Stock a refrigerator. Just $1 to www.feedingamerica.org will provide nine pounds of groceries to a hungry family in the US.
Knit. Send squares to www.warmupamerica.org; they'll be made into afghans and given to battered women's shelters.
Give peace to survivors of sexual trauma. $47 to the International Medical Corps (www.imcworldwide.org) delivers medical and mental health care to refugees who have suffered sexual violence.
Turn your wedding into a charitable event. At www.idofoundation.org, you can link your registry to your favorite cause. Each purchase triggers a donation from a retailer.
Starve a landfill. Make this a "no wrapping paper" year.
Keep a woman safe. At www.madre.org, $30 buys a cell phone for a rural Afghan woman; if threatened by violence, she can make a lifesaving call.
Give the gift of opportunity. At www.worldvisionmicro.org, you can make a microloan to help a woman in a developing country get her own small business up and running.

Thanksgiving

2009-12-01T11:14:00.002-07:00

This year, I had plenty to be thankful for. While things may not be going just how I'd like them to, I chose to look on the bright side and count my blessings.

Originally, the plan had been for Dan and I to fly to Michigan and spend the holiday with his family and also attend our after-wedding reception that his parents so generously put together. But a little over a month ago, that changed when Dan was offered his old job back and in this economy, it wasn't something he could turn down. Now I'd be flying to Michigan by myself (already not a fan of flying) and Dan would meet me there. The Thanksgiving holiday was wonderful and spent with family and friends and you really couldn't ask for more. The things I'm thankful for this year:

My wonderful, wonderful husband. I love him more every day.
My health.
A wonderful family: those I was born with and those I married into.
Having a job, even if it's not my dream job.
Having a home.
Being able to pay all the bills every month.
Finley.
The beautiful views I have every morning on my drive to work.
Having found a truly awesome church to attend every week (when I'm home).
Dan...did I mention him already?

It's so easy to take things in life for granted (I'm guilty of this) but try and remember the little things that make life worth living everyday!

Orange is definitely not my color

2009-11-23T13:37:00.005-07:00

I'm a big fan of bright, citrusy colors: yellow, coral, pink, teal. That list used to include orange but after Saturday, I'm thinking it's definitely not my color anymore.

It's no surprise that we're not dealing with the best economy presently and my every-two-months luxury of getting my hair done at a great salon has now been drastically downgraded. We're talking months in between visits. Realizing that I could neither go to my regular salon (insert serious frown here) nor was I willing to duck into a Great Clips (many bad experiences), I decided I'd give an old salon a second shot. Many ladies have heard of Aveda and their earth friendly products and swanky salons. What you may not know is that the training center for all these stylists and aesthiticians is right here in downtown Denver: the Aveda Institute. It is in all essences, a school. All of your services (haircut, massages, pedicures, highlights, etc) are performed by students and are extremely cheap. So while you're getting a drastic reduction in the cost, the appointment times are way longer and you're also taking your chances with someone who botches what they're doing to you. Case-in-point: me on Saturday.

I went in Saturday with the intentions (or hope) that I could turn my butterscotch highlights into a more golden-to-medium brown color. Seemed easy enough to me anyway. Going darker seemed to have less margin for error in my head. I had been there earlier last month and the girl who did my hair did an awesome job, even if one section of highlights was thicker than I wanted. No biggie, it was the color I'd asked for. Upon making the appointment for Saturday, I was told that I'd be given a student that was "really good at color" since the last girl was out of town. I felt comfortable in this, especially since my last visit had been so positive. I went in Saturday, armed with a couple of pictures of the exact shade I wanted. My stylist spent about 5 minutes with me, discussing the perfect color I wanted and off she went. I wasn't concerned...she was "really good at color"!

A couple hours later, she had rinsed out the product, put the toner on to bring it to the color I wanted and she set to work styling my hair. Now, while I may not be a pro at blowing my hair dry, I know enough to know what does and doesn't work when blowing my curly hair out. Specifically, you have to use a round brush and cannot, I repeat, cannot just finger dry it. Otherwise, you got poofy frizz. Even though I told my stylist this beforehand, what did she do? Dried with just her fingers and then tried to "fix it" with the flat iron. Result: sorta straight frizz. I guess we were not speaking the same language. Despite not having the great blowout I was hoping to leave with, I liked the color of the highlights. At least what I could see, as these were on top of my head. I didn't feel the need to check every layer since what I could see looked good. Giving her a generous tip (because hey, it's the holidays), I headed home and it was then that I realized not all was well in highlights land.

I'll preface this by saying that it's kinda dark in the Institute and we all know how early it gets dark around here. So what I was looking at inside the salon and my reflection in my car's mirror was less than accurate, shall we say. Walking into the bathroom at home equipped with lights so bright they could double as a landing strip if you added one more, I realized that all was not well in highlights land. The highlights on my bangs were about an inch wide (not the fine look I asked for) and they were suspiciously tangerine-esque and there was substantial rootage showing. Getting the highlights really close to the hairline is not too much to ask for and it can be acheived. While I was unhappy with the bang portion of my 'do, I decided to sleep on it and woke Sunday morning deciding that I would just buy a box of dark brown hair dye and minimize the fruity shade of my bangs. It ddidn't seem that tragic...it was such a small portion. Or so I thought.

Come Sunday morning, with handmade highlighting foils and hair dye ready to go, I discovered the true extent of my trip to the salon. As I started pulling the strips out to color, I brushed my hair back to keep it out of the dye. And then I saw it. The screeching orange that is normally seen on produce and these creepy little beings.

Now had the orange been in super fine sections like I'd requested, it wouldn't have given me the reaction of "holy crap". No, underneath the stylist had apparently either A)gone completely insane, B)was extremely lazy or C)thought that it would be funny to send me home with inch and half wide chunks of Day-Glo orange, paired with about an inch of dark brown roots. Super attractive. I started combing through my hair and found more and more of her handiwork. None of the "highlights" (that's being quite generous...they're more like white trash calling cards) were the same width and they were all varying shades of orange and an, if this is even possible, almost translucent and glowing yellow. Much like this. I kid you not.

Again with the knock-you-over attractiveness. I definitely should've taken pictures. Some of the highlights were salvageable in that I picked a few small pieces out to save (they looked more copper when in small quantities...I could do copper) and slopped the brown dye on the rest of it. You too can have great looking highlights!!!...if you go home and cover up what the student did to you.

Laughing til you cry

2009-11-20T11:52:00.006-07:00

I laugh plenty of times during the day but when something comes along that makes me laugh until I cry, I have to take note. A couple years ago, I was sent an email forward that was images from a 70's JC Penney catalog. It also came with hilarious commentary. It wouldn't be as funny without the commentary. Being that my little mind was wandering today, I wondered if I could find it online and low and behold, I did! I found the original and its 2 just as hilarious siblings. I beg of you to take a look at each of the links but make sure you don't have a mouthfull of milk before doing so, otherwise you know where it might be coming out. I will leave you with this gem of an image and commentary to tide you over.

I'll bet these guys do ok with the ladies. If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like Bob "No-Pants" Saget has his hand in the other guys' pocket. In this case, he doesn't, although you can tell just by looking at them that it's happened - or if it hasn't happened, it will. Oh yes. It will. As soon as he puts down his color-coordianted coffee cup.

http://15minutelunch.blogspot.com/2007/10/strap-in-shut-up-and-hold-on-were-going.html

http://15minutelunch.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-once-upon-time-i-found-this-catalog.html

http://15minutelunch.blogspot.com/2008/08/electronics-and-exercise.html

Utterly priceless

2009-11-20T10:30:00.004-07:00

I'll admit it; I love the modern conveniences of suburbia. I love drive-thru Starbucks and the "Super" stores. You know the ones, Super Target and Super Walmart. I personally am more of a fan of Super Target because A)they have a better selection of better quality foods and B)I inevitably wonder into a part of the store I shouldn't be in and can always find something to toss in the cart. And while I know this next statement is going to make me sound like a total snob, I'm pushing on. I also like Super Target better due to its clientele. SNOB!!! I'm not saying I only like to shop around the middle class, Tahoe-driving soccer moms in True Religion jeans. No, that's not it at all. My point is that the chances of running into and being involved in a profanity laced scream fest while getting knocked into as 2 scrambling objects commonly known as "children" recreate Smackdown in the Dairy aisle are far greater when you enter a Walmart. SNOB!!! Sorry, but I don't enjoy listening to a 10 year old trade cuss words with his midriff-baring momma while I'm trying to pick out bread. Some sort of social atrocity is guaranteed to be witnessed whenever I enter a Walmart. I'm not saying the occasional screaming temper tantrum doesn't happen at Targets but it's far, far less and usually doesn't involve Mom retorting with a "I will beat your a** if you don't shut the f*** up." Real nice Carol Brady.

Given how I feel about Walmart, I just learned of a glorious website dedicated to the melting pot that is Walmart customers (thank you Marci!). http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/ If you're easily offended by photos of people sporting booty shorts with profanity on them, maybe you shouldn't give this site a visit. But oh, how this site has given me a laugh in the few pages I've looked at. Enjoy, and may your shopping at Walmart be filled with lovely visions such as these!

A birthday shout out

2009-11-13T09:21:00.011-07:00

Today falls on the dreaded Friday the 13th. While normally that date kinda weirds me out a little, today it fills me with happiness as it is my awesome husband's birthday. This is our 4th birthday "together", although we technically weren't even together for the first one.

On November 13, 2006, I was at a hotel in California in between ski shows, sending numerous flirty texts to you while waiting to see you and "work" with you. This was the beginning stages of our relationship. And what a relationship we've had. We met at a ski show in Ohio, at a really small ski resort (if you can even call it that) of all places. It was fate if I ever saw it. To think that 3 years from that day I'd be married to the "wow, he's pretty hot" guy is amazing to me. I liked you enough to make sure my company flew you out to Chicago to "help" me at another ski show.

I even remember having the deserted island conversation with one of my best friends after this show. The one that went, "if I were on a deserted island, I'd definitely want Dan there because he's just so funny and easy to talk to." That led to working together at another ski show in Los Angeles; spending just about every minute together, going to The Birds with one of my oldest friends and have him basically give you the "what are your intentions" spiel.

We both left LA wanting to give a relationship a try, despite my being in Colorado and you being in Michigan. It was really hard at times, I admit that, but eventually we were given the opportunity to finally work and be together after 20 months of long distance dating, even if it entailed "living" in a motel in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania.

We had talked marriage but nothing really concrete. I knew it would come along soon, at some point. When you arranged a weekend for us in New York City, I had an inkling a sparkly ring might appear that weekend but didn't expect you to do it when and how you did it. I know it wasn't the way you wanted to do it (stupid rain and fog) but it was perfect nonetheless and I remember every single detail of that night.

I began planning our wedding and a year later, we got married on the most perfectly beautiful fall day (although technically still summer). I blocked out everything around me that day (kamikaze birds, flower girls wearing baskets as hats) so that I could remember everything about that wonderful day. And I do remember everything vividly.

The last several months have been very trying for us and on us as a couple: ambulance rides, losing jobs, having not-enjoyable jobs, getting new jobs across the country. Being separated right now definitely isn't what I had in mind and I'm not strong about it all the time; I can't help it, I love you more every day and miss coming home to you. I know this separation will pass and the sun will come out shining soon.

You are such a wonderful person and I have been truly blessed to have you in my life. We can drive each other nuts sometimes but I love you more at the end of the day. Here's to many, many more birthdays together sweetie.

Plastic surgeon's business card not included

2009-11-12T12:03:00.008-07:00

No doubt about it, we're all about image. Looking good, looking hot. Whatever. Even the people I see strolling around the grocery store dressed in sweatpants that are screaming to be burned, probably enjoy looking nice too. Everywhere you look, it's ads for things that make you more beautiful/attractive/younger looking/etcetera etcetera. Some of these things can make me bug out my eyes and I tend to think that whoever uses them has gotta be a teensy bit shallow. Judgemental, yes but at least I'm honest. But yesterday I saw something that takes shallow to a whole 'nother level.

Meet Sugar Daddy Ken doll. I kid you not. Mattel has stooped to an all-time shallow level. His clothing is beyond ridiculous and I'm sorry but what is going on with his hair? But look, the included water bottle shows he's conscious about flushing toxins and staying hydrated in the Florida heat! What happened to Ken's plastic helmet hair? No, I didn't go looking for this little plastic treasure to buy but saw it as one of MSN's popular searches on its homepage yesterday. Seriously, how could you not click on a link that says Sugar Daddy Ken? Maybe someone more mature than me I guess. It took me forever and a day to find this stupid "doll" online (I spent an hour of "work" time on this) and I couldn't find it on the Barbie website. A website I never thought I'd visit at 29 but there's a first for everything. Well, come to find out, there was an uproar over this doll for supporting a non-healthy image. Apparently our uber suave friend Ken here got his name because his canine companion's name is Sugar and naturally the next step was to call him Sugar Daddy Ken. Naturally. I could only find one online site that offered him up for sale and wouldn't you know it, it's no longer available. Bummer! And for $70. Wow, Barbies have gotten pretty pricey since I was parading them around and giving them stylish 80's pixie haircuts. (Note to kids: Barbie hair doesn't do pixie. End note.)

After realizing that I would not be putting him on my Christmas wish list (kidding), I saw that Ego Inflated Ken came with friends! Introducing Palm Beach Barbie Swimsuit doll, Palm Beach Barbie Coral doll ($150...are you high?), and Palm Beach Barbie Caftan doll (nice muu muu). The first thing I noticed, (besides the staggering price) was how weird Barbie looks now. Take the swimsuit girl.

She's starting to look like one of those freaky Bratz dolls. We all know Barbie doesn't exactly have realistic proportions but her eyes are the size of her hand! Not that I still have my Barbie's lying around but I do remember them looking a little more normal and not quite so snotty. Tell me this chick doesn't have a nasty "you sooo don't belong here" look on her face. This is the Barbie I remember.

This was my last Barbie doll. My mom got me the 1989 Happy Holidays Barbie and I loved her. She looks nice, looks like an approachable girl, has a smile on her face and her eyes are a little more believable in size. She doesn't look like Botox Barbie above who appears she just got done reeming the cabana boy for putting something other than organic rum in her mojito.

Going on the hunt for Sugar Daddy Ken made me a little curious to see what else Mattel is pawning off these days. The first doll to greet me upon hitting up http://www.barbiecollector.com/? The special edition Christian Louboutin doll. She comes with 4 pairs of Louboutin's and is clad in a skintight catsuit that show off the aforementioned wacky proportions. I guess we can be thankful she's sporting some fashionable shoes and not busting cleavage out everywhere. I guess.

A good combo

2009-11-09T19:32:00.006-07:00

I love food. Plain and simple. I am motivated by food. Wait, that kinda makes me sound like a dog. No, I don't bed for Snausages but man, I love me some good tasting food! If I'm hungry, my cranky level rockets way up and things can get ugly. Just ask Dan about the first time he ever came to visit me...i.e. the pizza ordering incident. I'm lucky the guy ever called me again, let's just say.

So as I'm creeping along in the heinous traffic tonight, I was anxiously awaiting what awaited me in the fridge. Walking through the door, I threw all my things down, took Finley out to do her thing and set about satisfying the tastebuds. First, it was a glass of my favorite vino.

And it's a screw top. Gasp! How tacky! After traveling through New Zealand a few years ago, one of my stops was through their wine country and while I don't consider myself a wine snob, I did become very particular about the wine I like. There is a very distinct difference in taste between California/US Sauvignon Blanc and a New Zealand Sauv. The New Zealand has a much more fruity flavor to it; not a sweet fruity, but rather a dry, almost bitter pear taste. This is why I'm not a somalier...I'm butchering how it tastes on paper. But if you were to do a taste test between a US and New Zealand Sauv, I bet you'd probably lean toward the Kiwi version. Go pick up a bottle...it's only about $10. Plus I love my stemless wine glasses...so sturdy and chic. Although not sturdy enough to withstand wrapping my laptop cord around it and dumping it into my slippers. And of course that was the last of the wine so now I'm without my drink and I have wet slippers.

Moving on! My dinner was leftovers but I like leftovers I cook. I'm a little weird about leftovers from restaurants. Don't ask me why; I just am. I never eat them. They sit in my fridge for waaay too long and become little science experiments before I do a purge and toss them into the trash without even bothering to look at them because I know it will be bad. A couple nights ago, I made one of my fave dishes. The hubs isn't a big fan of this dish and I only make it for myself so it had been awhile since I'd last had it.

This little pile of tastebud tinglers is Tomale Pie. It's such a great dish anyway and requires little work when it comes to actually eating it. It's a total shoveling food. You know what I mean, just shovel it in and barely have to chew it. Ahhh, I just love this stuff and I have my mom to thank for this recipe. I've had this stuff since way back in the day and luckily, my mom is a phenomenal cook and I was more than happy to continue the chain of this yummy dish.

Okay, now I want a second helping. Hmmm....

Is it supposed to burn like this?

2009-11-09T14:29:00.003-07:00

Last week while waiting for a prescription to get filled, I wandered around the health care aisles near the pharmacy. Stopping in the toothbrush aisle to pick up some replacement heads for Dan's power brush, I started looking at the tooth whitening products. I've used the Crest White Strips in the past and while I didn't have any real complaints (other than the bitter taste of the gel if you accidentally swallowed it), I started looking at the whiteners that came in pre-filled, pre-shaped trays. This looked so much easier and the model looked so happy to be using them! That should've been my first warning.

While they'd been sitting on the kitchen counter for a week, I finally remembered to use them yesterday. Putting them in gave me visions of being at the dentist when they take molds of your teeth. These are bad visions: putty going everywhere, gagging non-stop, yeah...I had those visions. Working through this images, I popped them in and started timing for 30 minutes out. Not 5 minutes had gone by when I realized I hated these things. My entire mouth was filled to the brim with spit and because of the "awesome" trays, I couldn't do anything about it. Determined to persevere through the spit that was now threatening to creep out of every place imaginable in my mouth, I hopped in the shower. I tried getting some of the spit out but that was near impossible and all it did was run down my chin. Attractive.

I was certain I only had a few minutes left by the time I got out of the shower but this was not the case. I had about 15 left. I didn't dare get dressed and risk drooling spit and whitening gel all over my clothes so I just stood around in my bathroom. I also learned you can't even speak with the stupid things in after my mom poked her head in to ask me something. This prompted a waterfall of foam, spit and gel dribbling down my chin like a, well um, a waterfall. It was not attractive but it certainly gave my mom a good laugh. At least someone was enjoying it. As the minute hand passed the 30 minute mark, I whipped those puppies out. Well, whipped is rather generous considering the amount of stuff that came out with them. I looked like I had rabies. I rinsed and scrubbed and spat and hacked. That was disgusting. And now my gums and the roof of my mouth were burning and tingly. Pretty sure that's not supposed to happen. And not planning on letting it happen again. I promptly walked them back to Target and got my $17.99 plus tax back. I'll stick with the strips...much less rabies-esque activity going on.

To-do list

2009-10-15T11:42:00.013-06:00

Everyone has a wish list. Whether it be what they want for Christmas or goals in life, we all have a wish list. I have a list of things I'd like to do, preferably before I die but hopefully, within the next 5 years.

Turn my photography into an actual business. Have it be my main source of income; get out of the corporate rat race, be my own boss.

Have a lovely, cozy home with Dan. Would especially love it if it were one of those big, stately old homes in Wash Park! Have a big, tree-covered backyard where Finley and future kids and dogs can play...and I can sit and enjoy having a backyard.

Swim with dolphins. I know it's an overpriced tourist activity but I've loved dolphins since I was little (I still have the inflatable dolphin from '87 to prove it) and would love to get in the water with one.

Go back to Vermont where my grandmother was from and see my relatives and reengage in the beautiful state that holds so many happy childhood memories.

Ride in a helicopter. Random but it looks like so much fun and I'm determined to get in one!

Travel to Australia. Trek out to Uluru, hold a koala, take a multi-day sailing trip in the Whitsundays, take a million pictures of the Sydney Opera House.

Travel back to New Zealand but this time with Dan. Traveling to a foreign country is so much better if you have someone wonderful by your side; not a bunch of French kids who barely speak English and don't get your attempts at humor. It's such a beautiful country with friendly people and I definitely need to go back.

What kind of allowance does this kid have?!?

2009-10-02T11:53:00.010-06:00

I consider myself somewhat informed when it comes to the world of high end designers. I know who a lot of them are, I can usually pick out what piece belongs to whom and am slowwwly adding to my designer shoe collection (2 pairs of Christian Louboutin's in da house!). However, just because I know all this "invaluable" information (ha!) doesn't mean I actually put any of it to good use. Have you seen where I work and my income? Laughable at best.

I'm not a huge fan of some of the couture designs. They're just too weird and seriously, where are you going to wear these?

Running to Walgreens to pick up foot fungus creme?

PTA meeting?

While I'm sure there are many out there who share my same sentiments, there is a 13-year old fashion "prodigy" heating up the blogging and fashion scene with her blog. I stumbled across this girl on MSN's homepage and decided to take a look, for curiosity's sake.

First off, it's obvious the girl is smart...her blog is very well-written and spoken; not something too common from people even 20 years her senior. But her "style" (if you want to call it that) is a little too off the wall for my tastes

and while she's getting whisked away to sit front row at New York's Fashion Week (lucky girl), what is she going to do at the tender age of 13? Shouldn't she be enjoying being a kid and not acting like she's 30? She already had designers using her as their muse and over 4 million hits to her blog but I don't think I'll be the first in line to pick up a Tavi Gevinson shirt.

http://specials.msn.com/A-List/Tavi-Gevinson.aspx?cp-searchtext=Tavi%20Gevinson&FORM=msnsea

And cue hysteria...

2009-10-02T10:44:00.003-06:00

For several months now, we've all been subject to the hysteria that is the Swine Flu. And that's putting it mildly. I remember reading articles about it online and just about fell out of my chair laughing from all the comments of readers. The hysterical comments. "I'm not going to any Mexican restaurants because Mexicans carry it." "I won't go to malls anymore because I could pick it up there." "Let's lock all the borders to keep the Mexicans out!" I will admit I was a little more concerned than most as I had just very recently gotten over a very nasty bout of pneumonia and my immune system was seriously compromised: it took me about 2 months to feel almost normal again. I started thinking about what I could do to prevent picking up this latest killer. But I didn't do anything more than what people should already be doing: washing my hands frequently, using hand sanitizer when I couldn't wash my hands, keeping my fingers out of my eyes and nose. Nothing wacky like wearing a mask in public or forgoing public places altogether. (On a side note, try going into a grocery store after having had pneumonia and during the beginnings of the Swine Flu hysteria. I'd try and suppress any coughs because I was sure I was going to get stoned in the frozen foods aisle the first time I did it.)

After reading all that I did on the Swine Flu and comparing notes on the pneumonia I (supposedly) had, I started to wonder if I hadn't had the Swine Flu myself. I got sick a week before the news broke world wide, when mass hysteria started basically. Due to how I felt, I was convinced I had the seasonal flu but the doctor stated that I had mycoplasma pneumonia. She didn't run any tests and my research states that this type of pneumonia had mild symptoms. That is entirely possible but folks, this was the sickest I have ever been in my life. And I'm pretty sure that trumps having Scarlet Fever as a baby...times 10. There were times I really just wanted to die. I had horrible body aches and chills (anything touching me hurt), pounding heart (to the point where my shirts would move), fever, sweating and zero energy. And then there was the breathing part of it. Yeah, it wasn't easy. It hurt to breathe and breathing itself was very difficult. I'd have coughing fits that would leave me struggling to breathe. It was about 5 days before I had enough energy to take a shower and even then, I had to sit in the shower and spent about 10 minutes afterward trying to catch my breath. Having asthma made things pretty complicated and even woke up several times gasping for air. It was not an enjoyable time in my life and wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. But it did make me wonder if I didn't in fact have the Swine Flu instead of this type of pneumonia. It wouldn't surprise me, especially from what I've heard from those that have really been hit hard with it and the time that I got it. I know that I did end up with pneumonia either way, which is proving to be a very common problem with those that get Swine Flu and um, perish.

As the summer months rolled on, the swine flu coverage was still there. It talked about how it could be the next pandemic to wipe out millions and who it could affect most. This I paid attention to because I was in one of the high risk groups: asthmatics. Blast my crappy lungs and airways! Almost immediately after the swine flu problem came to light, the CDC started talking about fast-tracking a Swine Flu vaccine and that it would first be available to those in the high risk groups: pregnant women, those with underlying health conditions like wheezy me over here. While some people were signing up for the vaccine trials faster than you can say "free TV's" on a Black Friday sale, I was a little hesitant. Did I really want to get a vaccine that had been made in a hurry? Most vaccines are made over a lengthy period of time to make sure they get the dosing and chemical compositions just so. Who knew what the side effects would or could be? So far the only side effects were the common sore arm after injection that the seasonal flu vaccine gives us. I don't take any medications unless absolutely necessary. I don't break out the antibiotics every time I have a sinus infection (way too often) or bronchitis (again, way too often). People abuse antibiotics and meds in general and this is what creates zero resistance to bacteria.

However, it brought to light the issue that arose after a similar Swine Flu outbreak in 1976. Scientists fast tracked a vaccine after an outbreak at a military base. Things were fine for a couple months and then Bam! 500 people were diagnosed with Guillian-Barre syndrome after receiving the vaccine. No it's not a large number but still. Guillian-Barre is an often reversible but sometimes fatal paralysis disease that often occurs right after another infection, such as influenza. The '76 vaccine was made in such a hurry that things may have been overlooked. Could we have the same problem with the '09 vaccine?

I haven't decided yet if I'll be getting the Swine Flu vaccine or not. I have gotten the seasonal flu vaccine but I do this every year anyway due to having asthma. If I didn't have the Swine Flu, (which I kinda hope I did because then I'd have an immunity to it) then I'm in the group that tends to not fare so well if infected. I.e. deceased. While I haven't decided what I'm going to do just yet, I will continue to keep taking my extensive combo of vitamins (thanks nutritionist Mom!) and try not to worry about it! Stress and constant worry can attribute to getting sick so why not focus on something else?

The morning routine

2009-09-25T08:45:00.005-06:00

People are creatures of habit. You can pretty much put money on someone that they have a routine. You'd make money off me because I'm pretty predictable when it comes to the things I do regularly. My work week routine: get up, take Finley out to do her business, make my lunch, have breakfast if I'm hungry and have the time, show Dan off to work, take a shower, get dressed, hair/makeup, put Finley in her crate and I'm out the door for my hour long drive to Boulder. Once I get to work, I set about catching up. While it's work I should be catching up on, it's my daily list of internet & blog sites I visit! Here they are, top to bottom:

http://www.people.com Because I like to be up on "current" events!
http://www.usmagazine.com Again, more "current" events.
http://www.jasminestarblog.com A phenomenal wedding photographer in Orange County, CA. Not only is her work awesome but she's a great writer/story teller.
http://www.julieharrisphotography.com/blog/ Gotta follow the blog of my wedding photographer and honestly (really, I'm being honest), fave photographer out there! Any photographer that can make me cry over photos of strangers gets my vote all the time!
http://scarlettlillian.net/ A Florida-based wedding/portrait photographer. Can't remember how I came across her site but I like it. It's more toward the fashion side of photography.
http://melissajill.net/ An Arizona-based wedding/portrait photographer.
http://www.jessicarstrickland.com/blog/ Indiana-based wedding photographer. Not as journalistic as I like 'em but still good.
http://blog.elysiumproductions.com/ I have a mild obsession with this awesome wedding videography company in California. They are uh-may-zing...hands down.
http://www.ladolceblog.com/ Another Florida-based wedding/portrait photography company/couple. They've commented on pics I've taken so I'm especially fond!
http://www.jessicaclaire.net/ In the world of wedding photographers, this girl is up at the top. Ranked as one of the top photographers in the world, if not numero uno, I think.
http://www.mycharmingkids.net/ The blog sensation of MckMama and her family. My sister-in-law sent me one of her postings about a year ago and I've been hooked ever since.
http://www.karapennington.net/ Another Florida wedding/portrait photographer. Lots of them in that state!
http://blog.thebecker.com/ This is another wedding photography heavy-hitter. There are several names you should know; his is one of them.
http://garyfong1.xanga.com/ All you photographers out there should know this name. Co-creater of Pictage...'nuff said. Used to be one of the top wedding photographers in the world, now he's a pretty funny and savvy business guy. And very smart.
http://www.jaredwilsonphotography.com/ A Colorado wedding/portrait photographer.
http://realphotography.com/blog/ Another Colorado wedding/portrait photographer. Kinda considered booking them for our wedding but my love for our photographer's work won over. (No, I don't get paid to say that!)
http://www.jameschristianson.net/ A great Colorado wedding photographer. Actually came across his work when I was doing a search on weddings held at our ceremony site. He'd done one there and I started following his blog. Just wish he'd update it more.
http://www.pinkcoffeephoto.com/blog/index.php/ A fun Florida-based wedding/portrait photographer. She loves pink...part of why I like her.
http://dellafiora.com/blog/ Cool wedding/portrait photographer out of Louisiana. She does awesome boudoir shoots.
http://gabrielryan.blogspot.com/ A relatively new-to-the-game wedding photographer couple. They have a great, edgy style.
http://blog.beckyyoungphotography.com/blog/ Another Colorado wedding photographer. Hey, gotta support the local talent!
http://laurenharrisphotography.com/ This wedding/portrait photographer is from Arkansas and while the reason I came across her blog wasn't the best (she supposedly blatantly copied another photographer's blog style verbatim), I like her style.
http://www.ahpphotos.com/blog/ A great Colorado-based wedding/portrait photography couple. And they do awesome boudoir shoots.
And finally...http://www.msnbc.com. Because I really do like to keep up on current events that don't involve Speidi or the Kardashians.

What do you read?

Suffering for cuteness

2009-09-24T16:18:00.006-06:00

Lately, the last few days in Denver have been nice and fall-like: cold nights and mornings, cool days. Which means it's time to start pulling out the cold weather outfits. This usually involves my putting away flip flops and sandals (I'd wear them year round if it didn't snow here) in favor of boots and ballet flats. Today, I just so happened to wear a shirt that just so happened to perfectly match a pair of shoes I have.

Now, these shoes are pretty cute but they are almost too painful to wear. Length wise, they're fine. But they're super tight around the base of each big toe. To the point where that toe starts to get, oh I don't know, numb? And it doesn't help that shoes like this really aggravate my left foot. Why just my left foot, you ask? Well, sit back and lemme explain.

Back in 2004, while on a solo backpacking trip around New Zealand, I signed up to do horseback riding in the ocean. Totally cliche but who wouldn't want to gallop a horse on the beach and in the ocean?!? Ok, maybe you don't but I was seriously stoked about it. Cue the scene of having horses assigned to us based on our experience level. I told them I was advanced. I wasn't lying; I am. I've been riding since I was about 7, competing since 9, and trained our 2 horses in high school. I know my stuff. However, saying I was advanced meant getting a horse that probably carried Satan around in her free time. This horse was crazy. Her name: Shady. 'Nuff said. This horse spooked at the slightest thing, would alternate from taking off at a gallop and over a fence to refusing to move. The leisurely, idyllic romp through the surf I'd envisioned was now turning into a white-knuckle ride at break neck speed. To give you a mental image: picture horses coming down the homestretch at the Kentucky Derby. Flat-out, ears pinned back=Shady. The ride moved us out of the ocean and up over the hills and back toward the farm. The ride back included going back via dirt road. I didn't think anything of it until (that's right, there's always an 'until') another rider loped by at a leisurely pace and this was apparently a challenge for Shady to take off down this road at break neck speed. And the road had a decent decline.

About 2 microseconds after passing the calm steed and its rider, the worst happened. My foot slipped through the stirrup iron. My foot had slipped through and the stirrup was now hanging out around my ankle. This, for those not in the know, is not good. Not good at all. Reason being: in the event you fall off/get thrown from the horse while said foot is not firmly ensconced on the stirrup iron, you're not just going to fall to the ground. No, you're going to be dragged upside-down by the horse. I was trying not to panic (ha!) and attempting to slow this maniac beast down; even pulling the reins so far back that my hands were back at my chest. Nothing was slowing this stupid horse down. So on we go, winding down off the hills and back toward the farm. My legs were clamped so tightly around her sides to try and prevent the imminent death I felt was coming. About a half mile from the farm, the road leveled out and Shady kicked it up a notch. Wasn't she tired?!? The entrance to the farm was through a gate and we'd be taking a serious 90 degree turn into it...at about 90 miles an hour. Okay, maybe not that fast. At least 85. My balance was fine, as long as the horse was going straight. But considering we were going to be turning right and I only had 1 side bearing weight, I figured this was where impending death appeared. Somehow we made it through the gate without my falling and being mutilated by the horse.

Needless to say, I was ready to hand her back to the farm hand and off I went to take a shower. It was then I discovered I hadn't walked away unscathed. On my left ankle, the foot that had slipped the stirrup, was a hole where the iron had rubbed. Yes, a hole. Rubbed all the skin and "stuff" away to the point where you could see, well, things. Things you really don't want to see. We were in the middle of nowhere New Zealand and I highly doubted an urgent care, let alone a hospital, was anywhere nearby. I slapped a few band aids on it and continued on my trip, thinking that it would scab over and heal. Nope. I'll spare you the details of how it looked but it wasn't good and I honestly thought I'd go back to the States with no left foot. Funny enough, it scabbed over and started to heal the instant I hit US soil. Not so funny was the soon-to-be-discovered fact that I'd apparently suffered some nerve damage in that foot and now it swells easily.

Do I let the swelling slow me down? Not if the shoes are really cute!

Over in the blink of an eye

2009-09-23T10:45:00.005-06:00

For 12 months and 5 days, I spent basically every waking minute thinking about my/our wedding. What kind of favors did I want for the guests, what kind of centerpieces, what kind of flowers for my bouquet, what kind of food to serve. It consumed most of the day; yes, even when I should have been working. I was always coming up with ideas and trying to think of how to make them work. Not to sit here and toot my own horn (but I will because this is my blog and we all deserve a little horn tooting sometimes!), but I have a creative, artistic side. Always have. Took art as much as I could throughout high school (Art V and Independent Study in Art my senior year), art in college, majored in an art (photography). So I have ideas about what I want. I wasn't one to just buy something out of a catalog; no, I was designing things myself and making them myself. That and I can't justify spending $1,000 for someone to make my invitations and centerpieces when I did them for under $300.

So come Friday, September 18th, all of my butt-busting work was put to the test. Everything was as done as it was gonna be. Now it was time to focus on the most important matter at hand: the ceremony itself! I remember standing outside in my dress with the photographer and felt nervous. Not nervous of the ceremony itself but nervous that I would turn into a big, blubbering baby. I wanted to have some decent pictures of myself saying my vows; not mascara running and a snotty nose! It's funny to hear some brides say they don't remember much of the day; that it was all a blur. But I still remember almost every detail. At least the ones that were important to me. Walking down the path to go see Dan and his face when he saw me for the first time, walking down the aisle and seeing only him, the beautiful scenery around us, The Kiss. I don't remember if the flower girls were behaving or throwing tantrums (they weren't...they were quiet). I remember taking a moment to just take in the scenery around us. Afterward I thought that people were probably thinking I wasn't paying attention but I was; I was just trying to soak in everything and just loving the beautiful mountains. Everything I'd hoped for in a wedding was here: the perfect guy, the perfect location, the perfect weather.

It's amazing how quickly it was all over and before I knew it, we were driving back down to Vail and to our condo. I'm still stuck with the feeling of, "what do I do now?". It will take me some time to get over that feeling. In the meantime, I have photos that friends took and I'm waiting with bated breath until our photographer has our photos ready.

My new online friend

2009-09-09T16:05:00.006-06:00

I came across this fun website today and have been thoroughly entertained for at least an hour! Check out http://www.wordle.net/. You enter a bunch of words and it will arrange them randomly and you can change the font, color and layout and voila! You've got a soup of cool words!

Likes and dislikes

2009-08-27T15:23:00.004-06:00

Getting to know each other is fun, isn't it? Below is a list of things about me: 40 things I like and 20 things that bug me! What do you like and what bugs you???

LIKES

Chick Fil-A
The early morning, right before the sun comes up.
The way Finley will curl up into a little ball and peek up at you without moving.
Shoes! I really need a shoe closet.
Forever21
Super Target...love their grocery section!
Cooking. I should specify: cooking for other people.
Riding up a chair lift.
Snowboarding; especially on a powder day. Oh my, love that feeling!
Ptarmigan Lake.
Taco Bell. Yes, I like but I always order the same thing: 2 Double Decker tacos with Fire sauce.
Laughing so hard my cheeks hurt.
Taking Finley swimming.
Hugs from Dan.
Dark chocolate covered cranberries from Whole Foods.
Whole Foods itself!
The sound of running water.
The mountains.
The Container Store!
Fireworks.
Reading outside.
A fresh blowout. My hair never looks that good when I do it!
Pedicures, especially with a massaging chair. Heaven!
Going to bed with the windows open in winter. Pair that with a down comforter and a feather bed and you've got magic!
Comfy, plush socks.
Beanies.
Walking in the forest when it snows. Deafening silence.
Animals. Pretty much all of them. I almost went to vet school at CSU.
Dancing. Girl got rhythm!
Sushi.
Hammocks.
The east coast during fall. Colorado doesn't get those beautiful colors.
My mom's lasagna.
My insanely smart/crazy/hyper/loving/funny pup, Finley.
Sappy, romantic movies that make me cry.
Fall weather. Crisp and cold mornings, just enough warmth.
Photography. Doing it, looking at it, all of it.
My new "hobby" of painting.
Hot pink anything.
Dan. He's pretty great overall.

DISLIKES

People who can't put their grocery carts in the cart corral and either leave them next to their car, in the empty space next to them (so no one can park in it), or spend 1,000 calories hauling it up on the median.
Laziness.
Humidity. It's suffocating and does bad things to my curly hair.
Flying. I really don't enjoy it the older I get.
Having asthma. It really sucks although I count my blessings that I don't have to use an inhaler daily.
People who can't park: take up 2 spots, crookedly, rightnextomydoorsoIcan'tgetout.
Rudeness. It's not necessary.
Olives. The 1 thing I will. Not. Eat. Period.
Those that are judgemental, with or without knowing me.
Those that are fake. Just don't talk to me if you can't be nice to my face.
My neighbors; never have anything positive to say when I ask how they are everyday.
Snarky comments.
Kids that run around public places acting like hoodlums: screaming, knocking over displays, swearing, knocking into people, etc.
When my toaster decides to char something when it made it golden brown the day before.
Aggressive drivers. I don't enjoy the near heart attacks you give me.
A messy kitchen.
Being talked down to. I'm not an idiot, I wasn't born yesterday, and I did manage to get to work all by myself!
Rush hour traffic...ugh.
Know it alls. You don't.
Those that look down on people who have different views than theirs. Respect that people are different.

The "C" word...

2009-08-27T09:14:00.009-06:00

No, not the extremely offensive "c" word. I'm talking about cancer. Yeah, that one. You hear about someone who is diagnosed with cancer, you may or may not know them, and your heart does go out to them. But unless you've dealt with it personally, it doesn't really hold the same meaning. I've been touched by it twice: once with my grandmother and once with myself.

Let's jump back a few years to November 2001. I was going to college in Las Vegas at the time and had made the trek back to Colorado for Thanksgiving. Sometime during the holiday break, the fam managed to catch and trade a cold. Nothing too serious; just overall feeling of poo and sore throats. My glands were all swollen as they usually did when I got sick; no biggie I thought. My break ended and back I went to school. But something wasn't right. I didn't bounce back to feeling good and I noticed that one of the swollen glands was pretty freaking big and not tender to the touch. That's a bad sign right there: you want lumps to be tender to the touch. But to be honest, I wasn't too concerned about the gland because ever since entering college, I'd been getting strep throat like there was no tomorrow and I chalked it up to this lymph node not being able to fully recover since I was constantly getting strep. I continued on with school and work until it was getting to the point where I would be exhausted with the simplest task. Going to the bathroom was sometimes prolonged for hours because I just couldn't muster the energy to get off the couch to go. A particularly alarming moment was the night my good friend, Steve, dragged me to the mall to get out. He had to help me put my coat on because it actually hurt to have clothes on. My body was just throbbing from the inside out. You'd think I would've been concerned enough to, I don't know, go to the hospital?!? But now, I soldiered on with life. Although after this episode, I mentioned it all to my mom. She was of course concerned but I told her I wanted to wait until Christmas break to come home and see our family doctor whom I trusted. I knew he would be able to figure things out and he had such a wonderful bedside manner that he could seriously tell you that you had 1 day left and you'd leave smiling. He was wonderful.

Finally Christmas break rolled around and I packed up the car and drove back to Colorado. It's about a 12 hour drive from Las Vegas to my parents house in the mountains and it just about did me in. The next day, I was in the doctor's office with my sleeves rolled up and giving blood for a variety of tests: iron count, thryoid levels, mono, and a slew of others I can't remember now. During the days of waiting for the results to come back, I was still struggling to find any energy to function. I hate being sick and am so used to being active that I just kept moving; couldn't stop, couldn't let myself think about how seriously sick I was. The test results came back and everything was negative. While some people may take this as good news, I started crying. Something was wrong they hadn't tested for. I mean, why else would I feel so awful? My doctor was concerned enough by my symptoms, and especially the lump in my neck, that he referred me to another doctor.

This next doctor was the antithesis of my family doctor: a moron and zero bedside manner. My mom came with me to the appointment and I had picked up yet another weird symptom: my tongue was now swelling. I have no idea if it was just a coincidence or linked to everything else but this doctor took it upon himself to start throwing out diagnosis after diagnosis without doing what any decent doctor should do first: run tests. I told him everything about the past few weeks: the symptoms, how I'd been feeling, the recent tests that had been run, everything. We weren't even there 5 minutes and he delivered this blow: "well it sounds like you've got Hodgkins Lymphoma." Oh. My. God. I can't even remember what I was thinking when he said that but thinking back now, this moron should've kept his mouth shut. He hadn't done any tests on me and he's telling me this?!? The rest of the appointment was a blur and the only thing I remember was walking out with my mom and completely losing it. I was sobbing. No matter how out of line this quack was, I knew I was sick and hearing that I "had" Hodgkins just brought me to my knees.

Once again I'd been referred to yet another doctor. This time it was an ear, nose and throat doctor. Ironically the same doctor who'd taken my tonsils out 2 years prior. (FYI, having tonsils out as an adult is not an enjoyable experience.) By this point, I was sort of on auto pilot. Dr. Sensitivity had already told me I was basically going to die so I'd lost any sort of personality myself. This new doctor (whom I will not mention by name due to legal reasons but if you ask nicely, I'll tell you his name) immediately wanted to run a needle biopsy on this lump in my neck. To give you an idea of its size, imagine a walnut along the side of your windpipe with just a little bit missing. Yeah, kinda big. I kept my eyes closed for this dandy little procedure. While I don't mind getting shots and such, I don't like watching it done. From what my mom tells me, the needle was quite, um, large. It was so large because it was going to be pushed into this lump and cells would be taken out for testing. I felt the prick of the needle going in but after that, only felt the sensation of it moving in and out. Yet another not-so-awesome sign. The doc seemed concerned by the lump and decided that surgery needed to be scheduled for 5 days out. Whatever this lump was, we needed to go in and see what was going on. In the meantime, he scheduled me for a CT scan. Auto pilot continued.

The CT scan was a couple days later and this was yet another appointment I won't ever forget. My mom stayed out in the waiting room of the hospital while they took me back to run the CT. It's noteworthy that a lab TECH was doing the procedures. TECHS, legally, are not supposed to say anything about what they see/find. That is the radiologists or doctors job. Just keep that little tidbit in mind. So I hop up on the table, IV full of dye in hand (literally) and wait as the lovely little machine comes back with an image of what is going on in my neck. Just a few minutes later, the tech calls me off the table and brings me back behind the wall to where she, and the computer screens, is waiting. She points out what she just scanned and while I wasn't sure what I was looking at at first, she soon made it quite clear. She pointed out the major arteries in my neck. And the large grey mass between them. And dropped this little comment: "Because of where that mass is (between the arteries), they're gonna have to be really careful taking that out or you're gonna have brain damage!" I kid you not, she said it like it was supposed to be funny. I just turned around and walked back out to where my mom was. I'm guessing the look on my face was a dead giveaway that things had not gone well in there. I don't even remember if I cried this time but I will tell you that the prospect of walking out into oncoming traffic seemed kinda good at the moment. I mean, come on! Hodgkins and brain dead?!? The odds were not stacked in my favor.

I can't say I remember much of what happened between then and heading to the hospital in Denver for the surgery. We'd been told that it would be a 45-minute, out-patient procedure. They were going to go in and remove, what I'd been told was, a necrotic lymph node. Seemed simple enough. 45 minutes is less than an episode of Grey's! While I was getting ready for the surgery: having my IV line put in, changing into a hospital gown, and signing those papers, I got this feeling. The feeling that something was not going to go well. Of course I didn't tell my mom this until long after the surgery because she was already worried enough about me and who wants to hear that right before surgery?!? I told her I loved her as they wheeled me off to the operating room. I remember a lot about it, unfortunately. It was insanely bright and white and the nurses were all talking and chipper, gearing up to hack me open. And apparently the good doctor liked to listen to music while operating. Really? Shouldn't you be paying attention to what you're doing? And the last thing I hear before I went under was a song that was topping the charts that I hated: Toby Keith's I wanna talk about me. Just my luck.

I will preface this by saying, my body doesn't do too well with anesthesia. I'm fine (as far as I know) while I'm under but once they bring me out, my body revolts. Cue violent vomiting. That was my first memory of coming out of the anesthesia after the surgery. Not the best way to wake up. I heard people telling me I needed to stop throwing up. Oh okay, you got it! I wasn't doing it because I wanted to people. Finally the retching stopped and I heard someone in the recovery bay ask what time it was. It was 4:45pm. Even though I was totally groggy and out of it, I knew something wasn't right. The surgery was supposed to have been 45 minutes and it was now 4 and a half hours later. And my mom was supposed to have been there with me while I recovered enough to be discharged. She wasn't there. Then I heard the doctor say, "we got all of the tumor out." Whoa. My brain was hearing this but my body was certainly not ready to have a real discussion. I was too busy trying to get the puke out of my ear. As I became more aware, I realized that the nurses were prepping all the tubes and cords in me like they were moving me somewhere. Again, I wasn't really able to ask what the heck what was going on. They start wheeling my bed toward the elevator and all of a sudden, I couldn't breathe. My throat decided it was a fine time to not allow any air in. Sweet! I panicked, of course. I noticed the nurses were talking to me calmly, telling me I was okay but were sprinting my bed back into the recovery bay to check my oxygen. Definitely didn't help to keep me calm. I just wanted to know what the &*$% was going on and no one had done so yet. After I was able to breathe again, back to the elevator I went and up to a room. This was not part of the plan. They wheeled me into a private room where my mom was waiting. I was terrified to say the least. I didn't say anything because I was on the verge of puking and didn't want to go through the not breathing thing again. They moved me from the tiny operating bed to the "roomier" bed...ha! The nurses went to work hooking all my tubes and wires back up to whatever they were hooked up to. I then realized I had a massive tube coming out of my neck. Lovely! After they left, it was then that my mom told me what had happened.

She'd been in the waiting room, watching the clock until my supposed 45-minute procedure was up. Somewhere between an hour and two had gone by when a doctor/nurse/not sure who came out and told her that they had found something they weren't expecting. They'd found a tumor the size of a lemon in my neck. It was attached to a nerve but was wrapped up in other nerves and my vocal chords. They were trying to minimize any nerve damage but weren't sure if I'd be able to talk afterward. He told her I was doing good during the surgery and then he left. All I know is that long after the surgery my mom told her she'd totally lost it in the waiting room. No one was there to help her through this. My dad was working in California at the time and was waiting to hear how I was doing but there was basically zero cell phone reception where he was. Needless to say, it was not a good time for her.

So now I was on an in-patient status for who knew how long, had a tube coming out of my neck that was attached to a drain machine and I was not allowed to get out of bed to use the bathroom. That meant I had to use the dreaded bed pan. For anyone that has never had to use one, try and keep it that way. For all the years that you've been using a toilet and resisting the urge to pull a Dumb & Dumber and just go in your pants, using a bed pan was seriously hard. First off, I was flat on my back and I just couldn't get rid of the urge NOT to pee in bed! That and the bed pan handler was a male nurse. Not hot or anything but young and while I'm sure he dealt with it all the time, I did not. It took me an hour to finally "relax" enough to go. I was not happy. The tube in my neck was to drain out the area from which they removed the tumor. It had left a pretty big space behind and bodily fluids were collecting there so the vaccuous tube was necessary to keep it from building up.

I ended up staying in the hospital for 4 days. During this time, we realized that I didn't have any damage to my vocal cords but it was clear that some nerve damage had been done to the left side of my face: my jaw was numb to the touch and my left eyebrow was drooping quite a bit. The doctor said that some nerves had probably been damaged in surgery but it was looking like I would have a pretty good recovery. Or so we thought. Come the time for me to be discharged, it also meant the time for the gargantuan tube to be taken out of my neck. I kid you not, it was about a 1/2 inch in diameter with what looked like a flattened rectangular Leggo on the end to you know, soak up stuff. I was already freaked out from this whole experience and the thought of having a Leggo pulled through a pinhole in my neck didn't help. I ended up having a panic attack and subsequently, couldn't breathe for a bit. Didn't help with the fear. And of course I got myself all worked up for nothing; it was more uncomfortable than painful when they took it out.

Of course I was drained, physically and emotionally, but was starting to feel better and it wasn't until after I'd been at home for a couple days that I discovered the big problem. I'd just sat down to have some breakfast and when I took the first bite, I was met with the most searing, excruciating pain in the left side of my jaw. I can't truly describe it but it honestly felt like someone was stabbing me repeatedly in the jaw. My mom called the doctor right away to explain what was happening and this was the beginning of things getting weird with this guy. Thinking back on the whole thing, he never asked me to come in for a follow up. Now come one, I'd just had major surgery and most decent doctors would have you come back to see how you're healing and such. Not this guy. My mom spoke with his nurse that first day, telling her exactly what was happening and was told the doctor would call back. From that point on, every time I ate something, I got the same searing pain again. It not only brought tears to my eyes, but full on tears streaming down my cheeks. It was bad. A couple days had gone by and we had not heard from the doctor. My mom called and spoke with the nurse yet again. This time her tone was a little...weird. Almost like she didn't want to pass the message along. And if she did, the doctor never returned our calls. All 7 of them. I find it extremely weird that when after a major surgery, the doctor doesn't schedule a follow-up or return calls when the patient has some troubling after-effects.

And so, the time had come to return back to school. I was already going back 2 weeks late because of the surgery and the issues with my jaw were getting worse. Any food I ate produced massive pain and lots of tears. I then began the process of going to doctor after doctor in the Las Vegas metro area, trying to figure out what was causing the pain. I had 1 doctor tell me the nerves were "coming back to life" and the pain was to be expected. Another one said that I had a blocked salivary gland and to suck on hard candy to unblock it; Jolly Rancher stock had to have shot up that month. When it was clear that none of these wacky suggestions was doing anything, I finally got hooked up with an orthodontist. He was truly a blessing as he was the only doctor in a long line to figure out the problem. He figured that when the breathing tube was put down my throat, my jaw was dislocated and instead of trying to fix it properly, the doctor continued on his way and my jaw didn't heal properly. This orthodontist gave me a couple of options: one being a sort of mouth guard to wear at night to try and alleviate the pain I was having while eating or have surgery to go in, break my jaw, remove the scar tissue, reset it and have my jaw wired shut for 8 weeks. And there was no guarantee that would work. No thanks. I would learn to deal with the pain. And I have.

Over the years since the surgery, other problems have come to light. I also have Horner's Syndrome as a result of the surgery. It is a clinical syndrome caused by damage to the sympathetic nervous system and it's symptoms include: ptosis (drooping upper eyelid), myosis (constricted pupil...seriously, my left pupil does not dilate anymore and I get wicked infections in that eye) and anhidrosis (lack of sweating). Unfortunately, I got the reverse of anhydrosis: hyperhidrosis (excessive sweating). Lucky me, I have a spot on my forehead (we nicknamed it Fred) that is a little overactive in the sweating department. The mornings are worse, as are when I get nervous and upset, and it seemed to be getting worse as time went on. I couldn't really wear foundation makeup anymore as it would be gone in a matter of minutes from the sweating and after relocating to humid as all get out Indiana for work, I was really tired of dealing with it. I started doing my research on cures for hyperhidrosis and there were a few; some of which included putting deodorant on the area (no way am I putting Secret on my forehead) and Endoscopic Thoracic Sympathectomy (ETS) surgery. In ETS surgery, they go in through your chest, sometimes deflating a lung (um, no thank you) and clamp specific nerves. I'm just about done with the elective surgeries, especially ones that include deflating my lungs. I was desperate to fix this issue but I wasn't that desperate. It was then that I remembered something I'd seen on tv; on an episode of Dr. 90210 to be exact. A guy had excessively sweaty palms and underarms and went to a dermatologist friend who remedied these problems with something we all have heard of: Botox. Yes, Botox is used for hyperhidrosis! I called a well-known doctor in Denver to discuss this with him and it seemed that I could take great benefit from this.

Many people scoff at those that use Botox, that they're trying to stop the aging clock and end up looking frozen. But for those that do make fun, please don't. You don't always know why someone is getting it and I get tired of having to explain why I do get it. The doctor uses a much smaller, more diluted amount than used to correct wrinkles and it has been an absolute Godsend to help with the problem I have because of the surgery. And even if I was getting it for cosmetic reasons, who cares! There's nothing wrong with trying to make yourself feel good.

I have accepted the problems I have due to the surgery. And while filing a malpractice lawsuit was seriously considered and even started, I realized that I wouldn't have more surgeries to correct the problems. I'm done with the elective surgeries. Yes, it really sucks that it still hurts like mad whenever I eat, that I get really painful infections in my left eye, that I have to shell out money to have a cosmetic procedure done to alleviate the sweating in my forehead; but I certainly appreciate the little things in life more. Sometime I tended to forget before I went through all of this.

The best part was that about a month after surgery, I got the opportunity to watch my mom carry the torch for the 2002 Winter Olympics. Something I wasn't sure I'd be around to witness when I started feeling sick.

You'd think...

2009-08-27T08:50:00.004-06:00

...that the invitations for a seriously pricey wedding with one of the top wedding photographers in the world would have the forsight to make sure that correct grammar is used in the wording.

Yes, I'm really anal about improper grammar use. It's one of my biggest pet peeves. You're, your, there, they're, their, to and too...please use them accordingly!

Okay, I'm done. :)

Seriously?

2009-08-19T14:48:00.007-06:00

Throughout my day (when I'm not busy, of course), I peruse through several newsworthy websites: CNN, MSNBC, Newsweek, etcetera. Earlier today I saw one of the headlines on MSNBC, "Michelle Obama's Shorts Controversy" and just had to click on it.

Well, apparently the powers that be (not sure who "they" are) feel that her wearing shorts is inappropriate. Inappropriate for what, I wondered. The photo was taken as she was getting off of Air Force One. For a hiking trip to the Grand Canyon. In August. Hello people!!! Have any of you ever been to the Grand Canyon in August! It's a freaking oven in a sandbox! I'm sorry, should she be wearing a polyester power suit with enough shoulder pads to withstand a nuclear blast? The woman is going on an outdoorsy trip with her family to the desert, not a political luncheon. I have yet to figure out what the problem is exactly: the shorts are not too short, she's wearing all-terain shoes and is wearing a button-up over what is probably a tank top. Oh the horror! Gimme a break people...she's dressed quite appropriately for what she's doing - hiking with her family in the summer. Put her in a sports bra and micro running shorts and then we can talk but let's find something else to put on the front page of a major internet website and stop dumbing ourselves down.

And countdown...

2009-08-18T11:43:00.005-06:00

It's amazing how time flies the older I get. I remember being in school, whether it be elementary or high school, and the days just seemed to drag. But lately, things just rush by. While at the doctor's office this morning discussing my asthma and my last attacks, it was then I realized how time has really just buzzed right on by. I had 2 major asthma attacks in September of last year and in telling her it was only a few months ago, it hit me that no, it wasn't a few months ago...it was 11 months ago and hey dummy, you're getting married in exactly 1 month from today! Cue mild hyperventilating.

I can't believe it's been 11 months and 5 days (to be exact) since Dan and I spent the weekend in New York City and he proposed in Central Park. I remember every single detail of that trip, especially that night. I've spent the last 11 months planning out detail after detail of the wedding. Where would we have it? Who would photograph it? What would I wear? What shoes would I wear? When I stop thinking about the details of the day and how to make everything go smoothly, I think about the real reason for the perfect details: the ceremony itself. I've been looking forward to the hand holding, the ring exchanging, the promising to love you forevers in front of our friends and family. And I know I'm going to cry. I'm a cryer. I cry at sentimental movies all the time.

Yes, I'm legally already Mrs. Daniel Brown and no, the thrill of the wedding hasn't been lost on the fact that we're already married. I really wish people would stop calling it "just a party"; it's not "just a party"...it's my wedding people so stop trying to make it less special thanks!

I waited a looong time and went through some pretty crappy relationships prior to finding Dan. It was well worth the wait. So at 3PM on Friday, September 18th...I'm saying "I Do" to the person I can't imagine life without. 31 days baby...

Ahhh, the smell of curiculae...

2009-08-14T14:45:00.006-06:00

It's been a long time since I really paid much thought to the month of August. For several years, it meant working at the rafting company and working on my tan as often as I could, which was every day. (And by the way, was awesome and you just can't get that from a bottle!) But for 4 years, August meant packing up and going back to college. I haven't thought about it too much until a couple days ago while I was in Target, picking up the latest Glamour magazine to read during lunch, and the store was filled to the brim with college kids stocking up on Target's goods to head back to class shortly. Working in a town with a major university, you'd think I'd think about it a lot but in truth, I hardly venture near the campus...way too many pedestrians! But as I was driving in to work this morning, I saw more college kids. Some looking around, trying to get their bearings. Others headed in a surefire path to their destination. Boulder could not have a more beautiful backdrop for a campus.

The center of the campus looks like it was plucked off some East coast Ivy League college; what with the Flatirons, big trees and flagstone buildings. Not too shabby.

Then it got me thinking about where I went to college. The University of Nevada, Las Vegas. UNLV. Sin City. Not exactly what you equate with "college town". Nothing about it screams academia. Most people come to Las Vegas and probably don't even think about a major college being there. The campus is 2 miles from The Strip and right across the street from the international airport. Um yeah, try sleeping in when the flight patterns have the planes taking off over the dorms instead of over The Strip. Time off from class was spent in a variety of ways that seemed to resemble those of someone that lived in LaLa Land: hanging out at the Mandalay Bay pool (of course we didn't sneak in), knowing The People and getting into The Places, doing your clothes shopping at Caesars Palace, watching one of a dozen reality shows on Vegas and knowing half the people on them, going to hot nightclubs and having breakfast at Lenny's afterward at 3AM (I so can't do that anymore). Oh yeah, and the roommate I had in the dorms for half a semester that was, you guessed it, a stripper. Awesome.

Don't get me wrong, I worked my butt off at school. I was an Interior Architect major for 2 years before I switched majors to Photography. Albeit they were 2 sleep deprived, zero social life years at times. I also worked full time. Architecture is commonly known as "Architorture" by those in the same major. It's not easy. I spent hours, and I mean hours, in the Architecture building. Designing buildings, making models, trying not to go insane from being up for 4 days in a row, having chair races up and down the long hallways due to lack of sleep. And while most kids are walking to classes in September, bundled up against the encroaching chill of fall; I was walking to class looking like I'd just run a 50K I was so drenched in sweat from the 100+ degree heat. Vegas is a little toasty.

While I got accepted to CU and UNLV at the same time, I decided to throw away the security of going to a school close to home and went for one that was in a sandbox on the sun. No, I didn't have your typical college experience but I certainly don't regret it. I have many fond memories of college. And really, how many people do you know spent their formative years in Sin City!

It's not just me!

2009-08-13T16:16:00.002-06:00

There are a few words that totally creep me out and whenever I tell people what they are (moist and panties...eww), they look at me like I've just sprouted a third eye. Until today! I just read this article that proves I'm not alone...ha ha! So please, check out this link to see the least favorite word around.

http://www.visualthesaurus.com/cm/wordroutes/1857/

Why can't I be like the doll?

2009-08-13T15:21:00.003-06:00

Last year while back in Colorado for a few days to pack up my belongings, I decided to really go wild and chop off 12 inches of my super long and super thick hair and go for the Posh Spice cut that everyone and their brother were getting at the time. I really loved it! Until we got back to Pennsylvania and the humidity reared its ugly head and reminded me why I keep my hair long...hello afro! Now I know for a fact that my hair can be blown out pretty straight and look as smooth as silk but I am no wizard with the blow-dryer and it ends up being a little more voluminous than I'd like. So after cursing my stupid idea to get all trendy, I vowed to grow my hair back out and wouldn't cut it like that again. What was I thinking?!?

Last night while watching an old episode of Friends, I found myself loving the cut Jennifer Aniston had. You know the one, the short 'do she rocked in, I believe, Season 6. It got me thinking about how much I liked the cute cut...and how much I hated that my hair is curly and I don't have a $500 an hour stylist to make mine cute like Jen's! No no no...definitely cannot get my hair cut again. But then I had another thought and started perusing ebay for Posh Spice type wigs and lookey what I found! Exactly how I would like it if I were to cut it again. It's not like I can afford the decent extensions that celebs are known for. But is it weird to go from long hair to short hair all in a 24 hour period? Not sure yet...

If this doesn't put a smile on your face...

2009-08-13T11:14:00.002-06:00

I've been having kind of a blah day today but when I found this link, it definitely helped put a smile on my face...and probably yours too!

http://www.peoplepets.com/photos/funny/perfect-pairs-animals-who-should-date/1

A great read

2009-08-12T11:42:00.005-06:00

I'm a big reader, always have been for as long as I can remember. And I'm a bit of a speed reader too: I can easily finish a big book in 2-3 days. When I was younger, I was going through books at such a rapid pace that it got to the point where my mom wouldn't allow me to start reading the book until we got home from the mall because I would be 3/4 of the way done with it between the mall and our house about 20 miles away and then I'd be bored and have nothing to do. So yes, I love to read.

These days, I head to the public library and check books out instead of spending upwards of $20 per book when I'll have it finished in a weekend. It kinda seems like a waste to me, especially if I'm only going to read it once.

Just yesterday I finished my latest book. Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Piccoult. She's the author of the book recently in theaters, My Sister's Keeper. I read that book as well and was shedding a few years while reading it over my lunch break at work. Nineteen Minutes is just as good; she's a phenomenal author. It has sort of a Columbine-esque feel to it. It's about a small town in New Hampshire and follows the lives of a few residents, among them 2 high schoolers who have known each other since childhood. One of the kids goes on to be extremely popular and part of the "in" crowd while the other takes the opposite route - he becomes the school whipping boy and is teased - emotionally and physically for years on end. It then gets to the point where he just snaps and ends up killing several of his classmates. While this happens at the beginning of the book, you start by thinking this kid is an absolute monster incapable of having any normal feelings. But by the end of the book, you realize why the kid did it: the escape the endless torment and torture by his peers and I admit, I felt really sorry for him.

Kids in school, whether it be elementary or high school, can be mean. Picking out the "weaklings" to booster their own self esteems and turning these kids' lives into a living Hell for their formative years. I speak from experience, although not as badly. I moved to a very small town for my 8th grade year and was teased endlessly by a few select people because I was marked: glasses, quiet, no boobs to speak of whatsoever...the perfect target. There was many a day I left class in tears. My brother dealt with the same thing...in elementary school! He was small for his age and quiet, just like I was. Most of the time, the teasing happened on the playground and he was punched and beaten...all while the teachers were watching and doing nothing. It got to the point where I wanted to go to the schoolyard and beat these kids to a pulp. Yes, they were 8 and I was 15...I didn't care. These kids were just vicious and mean and nobody deserves that.

Anyway, I digressed as usual. Of course I'm not advocating going on a kamikaze mission against the bullies by any means! Having been through a smaller degree of what the character went through, you can start to understand why it can happen. This is a great great book that I highly recommend reading that once again, left me a little teary-eyed.

I think I'm getting too old...

2009-08-11T13:52:00.005-06:00

Last Friday night, I spent the better part of an hour loading up the trusty Jeep with camping gear: sleeping bag, tent, camping chairs, head lamp, s'mores supplies...you get the idea. I was really excited at the very thought of going up to my beloved mountains and getting in some R&R. After a couple hours on the road, a pee break and a near collision with a moron in a Toyota Camry, we reached the camping spot we wanted. And were disappointed. The parks service folks had it closed to restore the area after years of camping and tromping through the grassy area had left it pretty barren. So onward we went up the road until we found a pretty good sized spot, even if it was not on the creek like we were hoping. I hadn't used my tent in 3 years but managed to remember how to put it up and 10 minutes later, we had a portable home. I went about blowing up the air mattress, putting the sleeping bag and blankets on it and bringing Miss Fin's dog bed in as well. It was a little cramped. My tent is supposed to be a 4 person tent. I'd like to meet the people who decide how many people sleep in a tent. You better really like the 3 other people in the tent with you because you're going to be getting ultra comfortable with them.

After a lovely lunch of hot dogs over the campfire (they taste so much better cooked over a real fire...all burned and crunchy...yum!), we headed down to the creek to do a little fishing. Dan and our friends started up with a little fishing and I headed upstream to keep Finley away from them. Little Finley's don't understand fishing lines, lures and keeping out of the water to avoid scaring the fish. Finley=water. The water in Cottonwood Creek is pretty freaking cold to say the least. This time of year it's semi tolerable but in May and June (when it's warm outside), the water will literally leave any limb that touches the water numb in about 30 seconds. It's so cold it hurts. But ole Finley was running through it like it was 80 degrees and apparently gashed her paw on a rock we discovered after we were back at the car. At the time, it was a pretty good sized cut but sometime over the next 12 hours, it became a dime sized hole. Trying to keep her penned up in the tent after she was limping was a chore. Finley does not like to be penned up. Period.

We started another fire and started up a simple but yummy dinner of beef stew and cornbread made the night before. And what else is a camping staple? None other than a little s'mores action of course! Just the simple act of trying to get the marshmallow the perfect golden color, or in my case, a flaming ball of fire, was soothing in and of itself. About the time the s'mores action started, my allergies decided to rear their ugly heads in full force. And no amount of Claritin was going to help. It seriously sucked and turned into a major sinus headache. Yay, my favorite kind! I love when it feels like my eyes are going to pop out if I press on my cheeks. Feeling like a total lame-o, I decided to go to bed and crawled into "bed". Lucky Dan got the side of the mattress closest to the door (and a certain furry pup's bed) and ended up sharing the already small mattress with Finley as the temperatures dropped during the night. After waking up multiple times during the night due to the neighboring campers generator (seriously, how high maintenance are you if you bring a generator camping? Can you not live without electricity for the weekend?), I finally woke up to sunlight around 7:30. Stepping outside I realized how cold it was. You could see your breath. Washing my hands off with the water in the jug left them numb. I found out later that it was 28 degrees that morning at my parent's house a few miles away...and they were at a lower elevation than us. Yeah, cold!

We packed up camp and had a seriously scrumptious breakfast and headed back to Denver. It wasn't until about halfway there that I realized how exhausted I was. I am not the world's best sleeper. It doesn't take much in my feather bed and down blanket covered king sized bed to give me a restless night's sleep so you might be able to imagine how well I did in an air mattress that would not fully inflate for the life of me, cold tootsies, and Finley jockeying for position on the mattress and under the covers. Not too well. Is this truly a sign that I'm getting to old to sleep under the stars? Hopefully it's not but maybe I'll stick to day trips to the mountains for a little while.

Mental break much needed

2009-08-07T15:37:00.003-06:00

I hit a roadblock at about 1pm today. I just didn't have the desire to do anything other than immerse myself in the book I was reading. It seemed like all of the things that I've been dealing with over the last couple of months were enough for my brain to stop and say, 'hey, give your brain a break and read the last couple chapters of this book.' Yes, I realize I was doing this on company time but I just needed a break.

Tomorrow morning, we're packing up the car and heading up to the mountains for some camping and much needed R&R. It's sad that this is the first time I've been camping this year, especially when I spent the summers of '98 through '06 up there; taking in the beautiful scenery and enjoying all the great outdoorsy things Colorado has to offer. I have a camping spot all picked out; it's in a meadow with a creek running through it. I have spent many an hour there - as an adult and as a 4 year old trying to dislodge my dad's fishing lures from my curious fingers.

Everyone needs a mental break here and there. We're not meant to go non-stop at a million miles an hour. This trip is coming at a great time as the next few weeks are going to be just that: non-stop. So for this weekend, I'm going to soak in the quiet, relax in my camp chair, sleep with the tent screens open, maybe cast out a line or two and watch Finley dive into the bone-chilling 35 degree water. Here's hoping I come back a little recharged!

Tact is not born into each of us

2009-08-04T10:17:00.004-06:00

Last week, I had my annual exam with my doctor. You know, The Exam. Sadly, I would rather do that than go to the dentist. I hate going to the dentist and have someone rooting around in my mouth for an hour. And if you know about my trip(s) last year, you'll understand why I'm not a fan.

I made the appointment 6 weeks out with my fave doctor. She's very thorough and is very informed and interested in what I have to say or ask. I got the call 2 days before that she was taking a last minute vacation (somehow I doubt that...I think it was more along the lines of the receptionist forgot to inform me until 2 days before) and would I like to keep the appointment or reschedule. After whining about how long ago I'd made the appointment, I kept the appointment with the now scheduled nurse practioner.

Jump forward to being "covered" in a paper dinner napkin and my liver and spleen getting a "how do you do" from aforementioned NP. "Being that you're single, you really need to be careful about STD's," she said. Wait, what? Did you not read my chart at all or I don't know, notice the rings on THAT finger? Oh yeah, and thank you for assuming I'm loose. "I'm not single, I'm married," was my reply, thinking that would be the end of that. "Oh, well just because you're married doesn't mean you can't still get an STD. Men," she replied with a wink wink. OMG. You have got to be kidding me. She basically just implied that my darling other half will be cheating on me and passing on Lord only knows what kind of disease. How does one respond to that insinuation, especially when you're flat on your back and covered with a single-ply Brawny?!?

Tact. Something that not everyone has apparently.

The world really is coming to an end

2009-07-31T15:37:00.004-06:00

I heard news on the radio this morning that had me doing which of the following: A)gasping. B)crying out 'What?!?' at a loud decibel; C)wanting to drop to my knees in prayer had it not been for driving 65mph down the highway; or D)all of the above. D would be the winner. Now, what news had me wanting to run for my life? This particular headline: Are Spencer and Heidi pregnant?! Sweet mother of God; it really is the end of the world. Being the ever-doubtful person I am, I went to the always truthful internet (wink wink) and found this pic:

The cheesy genuine (ha!) smiles and the what-in-the-name-of-God-is-he-wearing-on-his-head hat were much more than my stomach could handle at the moment. Please let it be a publicity stunt...I just can't bear a Spencer/Heidi procreation.

Whiny Wednesday

2009-07-28T13:38:00.007-06:00

Due to recent "developments", I've edited this post a little and deleted some things. Um, yeah.

The Medical Imaging Center. In an attempt to be proactive, not paranoid, I tried to make an appointment to get a mammogram. Yes, I'm only 29 and it is "young" to get one without being predisposed to the BRCA1 (breast cancer) gene, but with the statistics showing that women younger and younger are getting breast cancer, I thought I'd get the ball rolling. I called my health insurance company to see if I needed a referral from my doctor and after being told 'no', I dialed up the place my mom goes to. After giving the usual stats of name and birthday, the receptionist wanted to know why I was getting one so young. I didn't think she wanted to hear about the statistics and my effort to be proactive so I just told her that my mom got her first one done at 30 and I wanted to be conscientious about my boob health. They're small but I'd kinda like to keep them around if I can. I guess you can't be young and proactive without a note from your mama. Well, a note from your doctor at least. After I told her (3 times) that my insurance company told me I didn't need a referral, she finally told me I was too young to get one without a note from the doctor. Seriously? Apparently it's a legal issue. I'll show you a legal issue. Not that I have anything to worry about in regards to the ole ta-ta's but what's the big deal peeps! In telling her that, fine, I will get a note from my doctor and send it in to you but let's keep the original appointment you were going to give me and if I can't get a note, I'll call and cancel. Not so much. Guess the person she kept putting me on hold to talk to said, "nuh uh, not happening." So, off I go to the doctor's to get a note.
Xcel Energy. For the most part, this company and its services never get a second thought from me. Except when I get my latest utility bill today and it has jumped $40 from last month. What could we have possibly been doing to make it rise that much?!? We're gone from 7:30AM until 6PM and even then it's not like we're running every possibly electronic device or keeping the A/C at a steady 50 degrees. I scanned the bill for any serious discrepancies but then remembered the last time I called Xcel to "discuss" a ridiculously high bill: I was basically told to bend over and deal with it. Meaning, Xcel does nothing and doesn't care.
My Blackberry battery. For a phone that is used for more than just dialing somebody up, you'd think they'd include a battery that can go longer than 24 hours without being charged. It died during the day yesterday after little use to it other than checking emails and a 5 minute phone call to the Man. Last night, it had 3 1/2 battery bars left when I went to bed. This morning: completely dead. And as I write this, my phone is now turned off to save the 1/2 bar of juice I have after charging it AGAIN this morning. Stupid Blackberry Storm in your cute hot pink case...you are inconveniencing me greatly!

Happy Wednesday...ugh.

Stomach virus anyone?

2009-07-27T13:26:00.009-06:00

If you were to pick one thing that a future bride puts the most emphasis on for her wedding day, it will more than likely be The Dress. Most girls don't get to dress up like a real life princess very often so the opportunity to fulfill this vision is not met with light intentions. I came across a picture of my dress and actually laughed at it the first time I saw it. It was so big and cupcakey; totally unlike anything I thought I'd want in a wedding dress. But something in it kept pulling me back and soon it became the Be-All-and-End-All. I was so convinced that it was the dress that I never even tried on a sample before placing the order. Call it insanity or crazy, I just had a feeling this was The Dress.

When it came time to really start planning the wedding, I soon realized that while I loved my dress choice, it became clear that dancing in this organza concoction was going to be a challenge. That's when it hit me: must get a separate dress just for the reception that will allow for boogieing down. So I began the search. I quickly came across a dress that was not only dancing friendly, it was also snazzy and sexy. Bingo. Not so bingo was the price tag as it was almost the same price as the wedding dress itself. A bride in search of the statement dress is not exactly in her right mind and even a $4,000 Jim Hjelm stunner seems reasonable. Reality (and Dan) told me this was not the best idea and so I continued on my search.

I decided I'd give ole Ebay a try and see if they had anything. I didn't really have a particular style in mind, other than it being less voluminous than the wedding dress so off I went to thumb through the 30,000+ wedding dresses currently for sale on Ebay. A little intimidating to say the least and who wants to spend hours looking through them all! A tiny thumbnail pic of aforementioned Jim Hjelm dress (and jaw droppingly low price) piqued my interest and I clicked on it. Upon scrolling through, I realized that the dress is a designer knockoff of the oh-so-lovely Jim Hjelm dress but is much cheaper...and made in China. Cue furrowed brow and lip wrinkling. I was taking a serious gamble here: they had no pictures of what the dress would actually look like and there appeared to be a bit of a language barrier between the seller and previous buyers. But, this was going to be custom made to my measurements, the seller had all good feedback, and it was only $150. I decided to take a shot and see what happened.

What happened is the dress arrived in 4 weeks (as promised) and completely shocked me in regards to its excellent craftsmanship. It was not identical to the designer dress but it looked awesome. I was sold. My idea of having a less fluffy dress to dance in had come true. However, there was one small detail I failed to think about until 3 months after I had the dress in hand: sitting down. It seems like such an insignificant detail and didn't need any thought. And in truth, I hadn't thought about it. I stumbled upon this by accident.

While trying on the dress and all of the accessories I had purchased just for this dress, I knelt down to grab my camera from the couch. Or should I say, attempted to grab my camera. An uneasy feeling came over me as I realized that it was impossible to bend at the knees in the dress. I pulled the dress up a little and this only made things tighter than before. Suddenly a thought popped into my head and I had my mom haul a chair out for me to sit in. Now, you probably don't put any thought into sitting down in a chair. You just do it. I tried to sit down like any normal person does and was met with a seriously tight feeling in the derriere. Visions of stitches popping everywhere came to mind and I continued my plight of sitting in the chair...like a woman who is 9 months pregnant. You got it...no bending at the waist, hand behind me on the chair back, falling into the chair and definitely not sitting upright. While I was now sitting in the chair, I was also extremely aware of every thread and stitch holding on for dear life. And my legs were straight out in front of me. I looked like a mannequin that had been leaned up against the chair. It was not good. Major freaking out ensued: high pitched yelling, lots of gesturing, some explicit words. Yes, freaking out. My mom was doing her best to calm me down out of my state and we decided I'd just change my diet and lose a few pounds to make it work. Now it's not like I eat poorly. In fact, it's the exact opposite...I eat very healthy. Yes, I do have a weakness for the Boulder Canyon Hickory Barbecue kettle chips but I'm good other than that! Mom the Nutritionist whipped up a list of what I should and shouldn't be eating and off I started on my "make this dress wearable" diet.

A couple weeks went by and I'd lost 4 pounds. Nothing huge but enough to make things work, I thought. I logged onto The Knot and was met with a picture of a bee-you-tee-ful Reem Acra dress: all loose and flowing with tiny pleats...tres' cute. It was then I realized how dumb I'd been. My current dress is a mermaid style in that it is body hugging down to about the knees and then flairs out. It's a beautiful style and is figure flattering, hugging all your curves. It is the kind of dress made for girls who just sway and bob their heads to the music. It is not the style of dress for a girl who wants to break it down and boogie at her reception (and sit too)! Losing a few pounds was not going to make the kind of difference I was looking for. I'd have to contract Dengue Fever and lose about 25 pounds to get this dress loose enough to my liking. I don't have 25 pounds to lose. Trust me. Look at my high school pictures when I was right at 100 pounds and it looks like you've got a poster child for an anorexic recovery group. Seeing the Reem Acra dress made me realize that this style was what I needed. While I wanted to have the sexy, curve-hugging dress, I needed to be realistic that I needed something I could move in! Again began my search to "see what was out there" and 10 minutes into my search on trusty Ebay, I found this stunner. This is exactly what I needed. And I was in luck as it was yet another custom made dress from China, and cheaper than my first dress. Fingers crossed, it will arrive in about 3 weeks and I'll be set.

That white blur you see at the reception? That will be me, seriously working the dance floor in my dress!

Apparently we cannot all get along

2009-07-21T09:39:00.004-06:00

I usually switch between a local radio station and Sirius satellite radio on my drive to work in the morning. Today I decided on the local station and the dj's started discussing a topic that has come up in the news recently: local state parks wanting to close the designated dog park areas. This should be interesting, I thought and listened as the dj's and callers gave their input. Apparently 2 local state parks, Chatfield and Cherry Creek, want to close off the designated dog areas due to "vegetation being trampled, local birds and mammals leaving the area, and water being contaminated". This I can believe. It doesn't take a rocket scientist (or a grossly overpaid government employee) to "study" that when you have multiple dogs running around, plants will get crushed, birds will high-tail it out of there, and dogs will do things they shouldn't do in the water. However, these are small areas of land that are fenced in and I think that these problems can be dealt with.

One caller in particular irked me to no end. It was quite obvious she was not a dog lover, or even liked animals to begin with, and her "suggestions" were laughable. "People who live in the city should not own dogs as they cannot care for them properly and dogs should only be owned by people who live on acreage where they're away from the general public. They're running rampant all over this city and should be eradicated ." Umm, what? 'Running rampant' to me means they're like an infestation. Yes, Colorado is an outdoorsy state with the majority of its residents owning dogs to go along with their outdoorsy activities. But putting down all the dogs because she doesn't like them? Wacko! And people who live in the city can and do properly care for their dogs.

She went on to say that if people want the companionship a dog offers, they should get a hamster. Yes, nothing makes me feel better than when I cuddle my hamster. But in all her rambling, she did make one statement that I actually agreed with: "dogs should be well behaved, they should be kept from jumping up on people and not be allowed to bomb bard people without being invited to do so." I couldn't agree more. These are the same issues that I have with a majority of the dog owners in general. I spent a lot of time training Finley to be obedient and it worked. She's an extremely smart dog and the time I spent on her training shows: she doesn't attack dogs or their owners (clothes-lining the Jack Russell Terrier a couple months ago doesn't count as she didn't see the microscopically thin leash he was on...I didn't either), she behaves just as well off leash as she does on, she is fully aware of what "drop it" and "leave it" are and does each when they're said. Basically, she's not an annoyance and the compliments I get on how well behaved she is are well worth the effort.

I love dogs immensely but it drives me absolutely insane when people get a dog and don't do anything with it! Just because it's a dog and not a human doesn't mean you just slap a collar on it and say, "ok, my work is done!" Dogs need to be trained. Period. And the excuse of, "I can't afford to take her to obedience school," is just an excuse. I didn't pay for obedience training; I did it myself. Don't know how? Go to the library and read up on books about obedience training. People by and large are lazy and full of excuses. I flat out refuse to go to dog parks anymore. It's been about 2 years since I set foot in one. They're a hot bed of untrained, unruly dogs and their equally ignorant owners. It's the place to go to let your dog run wild and chat on your cell phone. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm the Messiah of dog owners, nor is Finley the perfect dog. But when I have Sparky repeatedly trying to molest my dog and Fluffy jumping all over me with muddy paws, I lose any patience I had. So I stopped going. Now we go to an area of north Boulder that has a lake and trails surrounding it. She's allowed to be off leash and can run and swim to her heart's delight. The majority of the dog owners here are respectful of other people and their dogs are behaved for the most part.

I think part of this problem could be rectified quite simply: hire a full-time person to patrol these areas and police the dog owners. Make sure people are cleaning up after their dog (another huge pet peeve of mine...scoop their poop people! And get fashionable hot pink poop bags like me!), make sure the dogs aren't harassing other people and dogs. The state parks have rangers that pass through on occasion but that's all they do...pass through. It's not like it would waste any more money than the dollars spent on repeatedly doing surveys of what to do about the problems. I would gladly welcome a park patrol person to make sure we're all behaving. I have no worries about Finley. Maybe people would actually take owning their dogs seriously if they were to start getting fines for violating the rules that are already in place but never followed.

Apparently the recession does not apply to all of us

2009-07-17T16:41:00.004-06:00

The wedding industry is a serious rip-off I've learned in my 10 months of planning. For example, a dozen roses for your kitchen counter probably runs you around $20. Mention it's for a wedding and the florist sees the opportunity to bend you over and make a serious profit. Your twenty dollar vase is now costing you close to $100 and you "ooo" and "ahhh" over it. Even if I were in the position to be spending $1,000 on invitations (yes, they do exist...I see them in magazines all the time), I so would not do it! Me? I did them myself and spent about $40. I love cool stationary and cards as much as the next girl, but it is a piece of paper that is going to be slapped on someones bulletin board or fridge for a few months and then tossed in with little Timmy's Play-doh versus Cheerios creation. Things can look awesome without spending a fortune.

Back when I had satellite (and actually before I was even engaged), I watched a show called Platinum Weddings. They should really call it, "Things Rich Brides Have At Their Wedding That You Never Will." These girls basically have no budget. Meaning, Daddy Warbucks has a bottomless wallet and is letting his little princess spend $80,000 on flowers that are literally, "if I don't get these Cymbidium orchids to match my dress I will just die!" Who knew it was a life or death situation! Gasp!

So while my wedding budget may seem at times unattainable, I cannot fathom the amounts that these brides spent. Here's a little rundown for you:

Amy (real life Barbie doll) and Ryan: 400 guests; Budget: $300,000+. I don't even know 200 people, let alone 400 I'd want to invite anywhere!
Another Amy and Vince: 220 guests; Budget: $550,000. The guest list is slightly more manageable but again, what is with the budget!
Lauren and Kristopher: 600 guests; Budget: $1,000,500. Who are these people inviting...their UPS and Fedex guys? I can't even go into the budget...
Varuni and Minesh: 1,100 guests; Budget: $1,600,000. Seriously, where do you get that many people and what do you spend that on??? Did they buy the space they held the reception?

So while at times I wish I had a bottomless wallet for this wedding, at least I know that every. single. thing. at this wedding (besides the food and photography) was done.by.me. I am now a Do-It-Yourself queen and damn proud of it. Just because it's cheaper doesn't mean it looks cheap.

Whiny Wednesday...2 days late

2009-07-17T12:35:00.003-06:00

Wednesday was a little busy for me, to say the least. So busy I didn't have time to complain about it until after the fact! So here we go...

The Red Cross seriously needs to reevaluate the personalities of the instructors they send out to do recertifications. One would think they would be super helpful and willing to answer questions. One would be wrong if they think that's what we got at work on Wednesday. While I'm sure the helpful and friendly instructors do exist at Red Cross, we sure didn't get them. No, we had Mr. Sarcastic and Patronizing and Mrs. I'm Going to Complain About Every Last Little Thing instead. Instead of answering our questions about what to do in a friendly way, we got eye rolling and "uh, hello!" and "good luck with that". Isn't it better we're asking questions instead of trying to perform CPR through someone's stomach??? And is it really necessary to spend 7 agonizing hours getting recertified in CPR and AED??? It's enough we had the Bad Attitude Twins in there, but throw in a boss who's trying to pull the infant dummy's legs off and then hanging it upside down by its legs and I was ready to go play in traffic.
A few certain coworkers who felt the need to whine and moan about the amount of pizza I ordered for our lunch on CPR day. I'm so terribly sorry you didn't get to have 3 or 4 slices. Get over it. Try saying 'thank you' for providing lunch for you instead of complaining about the quantity and 'what was I thinking.' Deep sighing and acting like a complete a-hole only brands you as such; I think you're a complete a-hole now and really have no use for you. Just see how fast I answer your emails and requests now bud!
The heat and humidity of late. Seriously, what is up with this climate change! I'm always saying how great Colorado is because the summers are tolerable because it's so dry. Um, not this year. No, apparently we're India now with the monsoons and serious humidity. Doing anything outside between the hours of 11am and 8pm turns you into a dripping puddle of sweat and dirt. I didn't even want to get in my car after volunteering Wednesday night for fear of my car smelling like a sweaty, dank manure pile afterward. Yum!

Is this a test?

2009-07-10T10:34:00.002-06:00

Do you ever feel like you're being tested? Tested to see just how much you can take before you snap? So frustrated that you just want to pop a couple Tylenol PM's, crawl under the covers, and start over in 24 hours? Yeah, that was me yesterday afternoon.

As the day of the wedding draws even closer, the more prone I am to freaking out about small things. Yesterday, it happened to be about finding someone to do my hair the day of the wedding. For 90% of the wedding, I have done it all myself: invitations, favors, place cards, music, makeup, jewelry...you get the picture. But when it comes to my hair, I fully admit I am not super skilled in the art of making my hair look like the glowing bride. Were I left to my own devices, I would end up in tears and trying to make stray hairs stay up with a staple gun. So when I was given a recommendation for an "awesome" hair stylist who was super affordable, I jumped on it and gave her a call with what I was looking for. She called me back yesterday with her quote and I about croaked. Apparently I have Sucker written on my forehead because her prices were the farthest thing from affordable. Back to square one of finding someone to give me a red carpet worth 'do.

After telling the non-recession friendly stylist I'd call her back (I so will not), I left work for the day and walked up the street to where my car was parked. And was met by the ghastly sight of paint missing in large quantities from my rear bumper. I'm sure my eyes bugged out as I ran up to the car and inspected the damage of what was so obviously a "crap-I-just-hit-this-car-and-have-no-intentions-of-paying-for-this-so-I'd-better-nail-it!" Yeah, some person hit my car and left me with a serious eyesore and I am beyond mad at this point. While I try to keep my swearing to a minimum (and I rarely do anymore), a few colorful words popped out while I looked at the damage and with wishful thinking, checked to see if someone had left a note on the windshield. They had not. I wasn't shocked but in some small way was hoping that whoever hit my car, had the decency to leave a note. A note with what you may wonder? An "I'm sorry I don't know how to drive and creamed your car", a name and phone number or credit card information would have been helpful. No, none of the above. Instead, I continue to fume and get into the sweltering car and start my drive home; hoping for the sake of all other motorists and pedestrians that they don't get in my way as I was really in no mood to "share the road" and brake for pedestrians.

Don't worry...no one was hurt in my wrath.

Proper attire

2009-07-09T09:59:00.003-06:00

Wow, and here I was thinking that my flip flops and orange running shorts were cool enough to wear en route to the pool. Clearly I was mistaken...hooker heels, ankle boots and a fedora are the way to go!

Common sense is not as common as you'd think

2009-07-08T11:54:00.006-06:00

Yesterday I heard of 2 people who drowned while rafting on the Arkansas River near my old summer stomping grounds. You never like to hear about these tragic stories but for me, it's even harder to hear when rafting was my life from May-September for several years. Details started to be released and it was learned that the accident happened on a Class V run, Pine Creek. I wasn't too surprised to hear it happened in this section of the river as it is considered an expert run. I've rafted it myself and have watched numerous boats flip and dump passengers there. That being said, it was also discovered that the victims had no previous rafting experience and were not wearing helmets. Sigh. Again, I never want to hear about these kinds of stories but when common sense is not used, it's hard not to think, "what were ya thinking?"

I am by no means the most experienced rafter in the world. I rode along with friends who were guides for years before I trained to be a guide myself and even then, still ended up getting tossed in the drink a few times. I've rafted everything from flat, Mississippi River style rivers to dropping 14' waterfalls,

drop-to-your-knees-and-kiss-the-ground-when-you're-done rivers. But the one thing that has remained unwavering is my healthy respect (possibly fear) of the river. I've backed out of trips for not feeling confident enough in my abilities and that can cause problems for not only you, but for your fellow rafters.

Also, you should never raft above your ability. That means if you are 350 pounds and have a heart condition, it may not be a wise decision to try an advanced run your first go round. Sure, who doesn't love an adrenaline rush? I sure enjoyed the thrill of going through a rapid and looking back at what I'd just paddled through but I also accept the fact that rafting may not be a great activity for me anymore since my asthma became more of an issue. It's just not a risk I'm willing to take anymore.

I always wore my ridiculous looking helmet on anything Class IV and up. And I mean ridiculous looking: think 12 year old boy in a bright red skateboard-slash-rock climbing looking helmet. And while the victims were wearing their life jackets, I hear of so many river deaths where life jackets were not used. What?!? You should never never ever get into any body of water without wearing a life jacket. I don't care if you're Michael freaking Phelps, you should never get into the river/lake/creek/etcetera without a life jacket on. That includes the scores of people tubing down the South Platte lately. It. Is. Not. Smart.

I'm praying for the families of the victims, and also for the other 2 rafters involved. No one ever wants or expects these things to happen when they're going out for what is thought to be a fun day on the river. I just wish people would use a little common sense when it comes to the river and then maybe these things wouldn't happen as often.

Channeling the dead?

2009-07-07T13:57:00.002-06:00

I'm not usually into watching tennis but somehow we got sucked into watching the last men's Wimbledon match on Sunday afternoon. I was bummed for Andy Roddick that he lost to Rico Sauve' Roger Federer but was even more bummed that he lost to a guy that looked like he was trying to dress like Michael Jackson.

Seriously. What was he thinking?

4th Fun and Festivities

2009-07-06T09:40:00.002-06:00

Holiday weekends are simply divine. It usually means an extra day off of work, which I will not argue with at all. Sometimes it includes doing nothing, other times it includes flying flame balls in the sky!

Saturday was the 4th and it was wonderfully relaxing and fun. We spent most of the day at our friends' house - barbecuing (well, I didn't actually man the grill but I did partake in what came from it!), playing cards, watching the dogs run around, and just having fun overall. It was so nice to sit outside, in a yard, and just chill out. We brought Finley with us in hopes that she and Slainte could now be friends and play. They did get along pretty well but Finley was more concerned with the tennis ball she found than playing tag with Slainte. That's Finley. However, she was a seriously pooped pup all of Sunday so we were thankful.

We climbed up on the roof to watch the fireworks. I wore extremely sensible flip flops, which had I not changed into tennis shoes, would probably have sent me rolling off into the bushes. We had good views of several fireworks shows going off around the city but it wasn't until I spotted a suspicious glowing light that I really paid attention. There was a glowing orange ball in the sky and it wasn't moving. It moved very slowly, disappeared and then appeared again. This was not a plane people. Then, 5 more of these orange balls appeared but they started moving around the sky. I could not make this up if I tried and all of us were seeing the same thing. And no, I was not intoxicated. The first light disappeared but the other 5 started following each other around the sky. I don't believe in UFO's but I have no idea or explanation for what those were...it was seriously weird.

Flying orange balls o' light aside, we had a great time. No one fell off the roof, Finley did freak out with all of the fireworks going off but spent the remainder of the evening in the car to freak out privately, and we were in bed by 11. What rebels!

It may rot my brain but at least it's entertained!

2009-07-01T08:59:00.003-06:00

Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Girl accepts proposal from boy. Girl and boy get married and live happily ever after. That's usually how the story of love goes right? Well, at least for most people that's how it happens. Not so when it comes to the television icon, The Bachelorette. The current season (for those of you not in the know) is following Jillian on her "quest" for love. She's probably the most normal, down-to-earth girl that's been on this series of shows but certainly not the brightest when it comes to picking a great guy to spend forever after with. Or at least a few weeks with until girl and boy decide they are not made for each other and go their separate ways after getting their 15 minutes of fame.

Jillian made it to the top 3 of the previous season's, The Bachelor, and was swiftly dumped on her butt by Mr. Arent't-I-Hot-Especially-Because-I'm-A-Single-Dad, Jason. She was then recruited to be the next Bachelorette. After each season ends, I make a vow to never watch the ridiculous car crash that is the Bachelor/Bachelorette. And yet again, I got sucked in. Right away, the good guys and the morons were easy to spot. One moron in particular has me yelling and wanting to chuck objects at the TV every time his smug face comes on: Wes. This guy is from Texas and is a "country singer". I say singer loosely because his voice drives me up the wall. It's too twangy, whiny and sounds like way too many country singers. There's nothing original about it, nothing that catches my ear and leaves me thinking, "he's good." No, it usually leaves me dry heaving. And from Day 1, this moron has been honest (only to the cameras and other guys) about his intentions of being on the show: to get his "music" out there and get a record deal. Okay slime ball, good luck!

Monday's episode had one of Jillian's cast offs, and my personal fave contender, Jake come back to lay a bombshell on her lap. Wes had apparently told him that he had a girlfriend at home. Big shocker. After getting all weepy, she seemed like she was going to give Wes the boot once and far all. Especially considering it wasn't the first time the girlfriend rumors had come up. But what does she do? She keeps Wes' conniving ass and gets rid of 2 guys who don't have ulterior motives!

All the tears and heartbreak she may get due to Wes from here on out are totally her fault. But yes, I will be watching.

No, I am not lazy...I don't want to die

2009-06-24T10:55:00.005-06:00

Coloradoans are way into bicycling. The roads are inundated with spandex-clad peddlers on their tiny road bikes that probably set them back a couple thousand dollars. No joke. Me, I have a pretty nice mountain bike that I do like to take out but definitely would not consider myself an avid biker.

Today happens to be Bike to Work Day in Denver. Last year, 35,000 people traded their car keys for their bikes and rode to work. Last year, I worked only 7 miles from work and seriously considered biking to work that day (and others) but thought better of it when I considered the roads I had to take home: 2-lane road with NO shoulder to ride on, busy highway with tons of traffic and serious hill on the way home. I hear too many of the "vehicle versus bicycle" stories on the news and knowing my luck, would've joined those ranks. While there are tons of people in Colorado that love to bike, there are just as many who cannot stand them. This is due in part to a couple of things: some people just hate anything in their way on their daily rage-filled commute to work; and there are numerous bicyclists who don't understand/practice the "Share the Road" motto...it is their road and you damn well better get outta their way.

So, when I heard that yet another Bike to Work Day had rolled around, I prepared myself for the onslaught I was sure to get for driving to work. I was given a tongue lashing a couple months ago when there was a local BTW Day going on. My response was this, "No, I did not bike to work today. I live 31 miles from work...one way! I did not feel like getting up at 2AM to dodge numerous attempts on my life so I hopped in my gas guzzling SUV and drove today."

'Nuff said.

Know it alls need not apply

2009-06-19T13:40:00.007-06:00

Growing up, I would find a topic of interest and become mildly obsessed with it. I'd read everything about it I could get my hands on and spout off various factoids about said topic. Whether it be dinosaurs (3rd grade) or dogs and horses (way too many years to count), I was a wealth of knowledge on them. Thankfully, the dino obsession only lasted the one school year or I could've turned into a female Ross Gellar. I even entertained the idea of going to vet school but after a not-so-enjoyable experience doing a job shadow with the local vet (I passed out watching a cat get spayed), decided to scrap that idea. However, I'm still a little animal obsessed to this day and can play "Name that Breed" based off a description. Surprisingly this is not a popular party game. Go figure. I don't like to think I'm a know-it-all because I don't announce my breed savvy knowledge willingly. Ask and I'll tell; otherwise you'd have no idea.

I have owned several breeds of dogs in my lifetime: Sophie the Shetland Sheepdog (awesome soccer player), Munich the Doberman (awesome, beautiful dog...can't wait til we're out of the apartment so we can get one), Pagosa the Great Pyrenees (hello drool!), Bella #1 the Vizla (serious separation anxiety issues), Bella #2 (complete wacko), Lucy the German Shorthaired Pointer (super sweet) and now Finley the GSP.

Ahhh Finley. How does one describe her? She's definitely a character and I've never met a dog with such a personality. She's entertaining to say the least. She was the runt of the litter and is therefore, a little small for her breed. Weight-wise she's fine but her height is a little stunted. German Shorthairs actually come in a variety of colors: liver (solid chocolate brown color), white with liver patches,and liver and white ticked with liver patches like my girl, Fin.Technically, they can also be any combination of the above but with black instead of liver but the American Kennel Club doesn't accept black as a color in AKC sanctioned shows. GSP's that are black are out there, just not as common.

The last time I took Finley to the dog park (and by last time, I mean last time ever we set foot in one because I detest them), I had a run-in with a "supremely informed" gentlemen. Ha. He came up to me and started asking me questions about Finley. "What kinda dog is she?" I get that a lot. Not many people know what a GSP is. "She's a German Shorthaired Pointer," I replied and got a Look. "Are you sure? I've never seen a German Shorthair that color." Remember me saying I know a lot about dog breeds? Um, yeah. "Yes, she's a German Shorthair and this is one of the colors they come in. It's the most common color seen in the breed." Again, I get a Look from this guy. "I don't think she is actually because I've never seen the color before. But my dog, he's a German Shorthair." His dog was the furthest thing from a German Shorthair. Okay, not the furthest but it was quite obvious he was not. He was a mutt of some sort and seriously in need of some Canine Weight Watchers. It was possibly some GSP got slipped into his pedigree many moons back but he was fo' sho' not a GSP through and through; more like a few hounds mixed together. But I wasn't going to tell this guy he was annoying and wrong so I just nodded, trying to get away from the conversation with the self-proclaimed Dog Guru. He, however, wasn't ready to give it up. "No really, she just doesn't look like one. She's weird looking." Okay, that was my limit. Insulting my dog is like insulting someones kid. You just don't do it. Finley is actually a beautiful dog, aside from her height issues and the fact her breeder docked her tail too short (it's a nubbin' instead of a few inches long); I've gotten compliments on her looks. Not like she popped out of my loins but I still say 'thank you' when I get them. She is definitely not, "weird looking."

I should've asked the guy what his lineage was and told him he was wrong and weird looking to boot.

I think I'll be a pop star!

2009-06-19T10:40:00.004-06:00

I have satellite radio in my Jeep and I usually listen to it on my commute to work in the morning. Afternoon drive home is saved for my fave dj's, Slacker and Steve, who regularly have me trying not to pee my pants or ram the guy in front of me because I'm laughing so hard. Anyway, I digress. I do that regularly. I'm driving along through Boulder, keeping my eye out for some overpaid yahoo in an overpriced sports car to cut me off when I actually listen to the song playing. I thought it was Britney Spears at first. Yes, I know Britney Spears when I hear her. You do too, don't lie. And you've probably owned at least one of her albums at some point in her wacky career. I hit the Info button on my stereo and I learn that this particularly tarty sounding chica is Kaci and the song is Crazy Possessive. Seriously? Then I start listening to the lyrics and I'm literally dropping my jaw. The title really says it all but it's about a girl whose friend is flirting with her man. And how she's going to basically lay the smack down on her friend. But the lyrics are ridiculous! "Touch my man again and I'm gon' ***k you up, I'm gon' ***k you up, I'm gon' ***k you up!" Yes, the little asterisks actually were not said in the song but you knew exactly what was being said because the last letter of the word was said.

I can't believe this chick got a record deal and who the heck wrote this crap? Hell, I could do that! Although I don't think people would want to hear about grocery shopping, annoying apartment life, and cleaning up my dog's poop. Probably wouldn't make it on the top 40...

Suburban Squatters

2009-06-16T10:35:00.004-06:00

Apartment living. I mutter how much I hate it at least once a week. Yes yes, I'm thankful that we're not like the majority of people out there today who can't even afford a place to live and are in their cars. Trust me, for that I am thankful. Can you imagine living in my car with Finley? Ha! But apartments are just so, I don't know, confining in every possible way. No yard, no painting, no remodeling. Well, you could probably remodel but I'm sure you could kiss your deposit goodbye if that were the case.

A little over a week ago, a massive RV coach arrived and was parked on the curb right outside our building. Picture one of these in an apartment parking lot and you'll realize that the two do not mix well. This thing was huge and was taking up several precious paved spots. Not drilling into this thing while backing out proved to be a challenge but I tried to let it go, thinking that this motor coach maven was visiting someone in our building. Several days and life rolled on and the thing was still there. I'll admit I was worried some geriatric had passed on inside and not a soul would know but I was definitely leaning more toward the irritated, "get your stupid behemoth out of my complex" side of things.

Monday rolled around and I inevitably had a mildly annoying day at work. Meaning: I was in a foul mood and I was on the war path. So help me if the RV was still there when I got home. He was. But not only was it parked in its usual spot along the curb, RV Ronald had cranked open the awning, put his grill out on the grass and had rolled some serious extension cords across the lot, grass and into my building. The guy was skimming my electricity! While I did not go postal, I was beyond annoyed at this point. It was totally obvious what was going on: the guy was living in our parking lot for free and using my highly coveted electricity. I was extremely tempted to "trip" over the cord and yank it out of the outlet but was worried the guy would see it was me and slash the tires on my Jeep. Yes, I have visions of grandeur. So instead of taking matters into my own hands (literally), I did the next best thing: I called the cops to complain. Needless to say, I was apparently not the first in my building to complain about this squatter.

I kept peeping out the window, stealthily, to see if the cops had shown up. By stealthily, I mean casually bringing recyclables out to the deck...20 times. When the cops did show up, it seems our new neighbor had some totally transparent story about how he was renting from a friend there. Um, if you're renting an apartment, why are you living in the parking lot? Sorry pal, not buying it. The cop gave me the option of telling this guy to heave ho pronto or letting me call the office in the morning and letting them deal with it. I decided to ignore my inner cries of "hit the road Bozo" and said I'd wait until the morning. However, it seems some of my legitimate neighbors had other ideas: a rather heated discussion was held out by the RV and not long after, the extension cords were rolled up and RV Ronald cruised outta Dodge.

Now I can back out of my spot with as much space as I want...not that I really needed it in the first place.

Thankful, for lack of a better word

2009-06-10T11:21:00.005-06:00

**I meant to post this last week but life got in the way and it's a week behind!

Lately, things have been a little too crazy for my liking. First, the phone call I got 3 weeks ago about my brother being shot in the ankle. Those 4 words, "Josh has been shot," definitely got the heart pumping. And not in a good way. On Saturday, I called my mom to say 'hey' and she sounded horrible when she picked up. She'd had a toenail removed earlier in the week and unbeknownst to her, had picked up an infection in it that had gone from minor to epic proportions quickly. It had spread from her toenail, all the way up to her knee. Considering how serious this was, she went to the ER and was given intravenous antibiotics and sent home with a prescription for oral antibiotics. Knowing what an out of this world worrier I am, she didn't call me to tell me she was in the hospital; I found out this way. I was concerned but knowing that she'd been at the hospital and had received an IV of antibiotics put me at ease a little.

The next morning, I waited until about 10am before calling to check on how she was doing. No one answered. I figured my dad and brother were at church and my mom was either still sleeping or in the shower. I called again a few minutes later and still, no answer. Fear began rising in my throat and I tried not to let it take over as I tried calling my mom's cell phone: straight to voicemail. I decided to give my dad a try. He picked up, his voice a little weird and said, "have you talked to mom?" No, I hadn't. Apparently she was in the hospital as we spoke; her leg had gotten worse. I waited until we got off the phone and then turned into a blubbering mess. Dan and I had just gotten in his truck to head to church and I told him where she was. Plans for church were obviously cancelled as we headed back to throw Finley in with us as we had no idea how long we'd be gone.

Driving from north Denver to the hospital in Salida took us about 3 hours, thanks to the scads of drivers either driving 15 under the speed limit or Mr. Suburbanite driving the rented Cruise America RV and keeping CDOT employees busy with the plastic roadside markers he was taking out. Needless to say, it gave me plenty of time to think about my mom and of course, freak out and let my mind wander to places that it totally shouldn't have. You know, places that involved her not "being around". Ugh. I'm a champion worrier.

We spent a few hours at the hospital; most of the time was spent with me obsessively checking my mom's leg for signs of improvement or worsening. And no words of "she's going to be fine" from the nurses made me feel any better. I was flat out, scared to death, terrified of the infection taking over and losing my mom. Call it needless worrying but when your mom is your confidante, your personal medical dictionary and consultant and you're as close to your mom as I am, you worry.

Now that I've gotten all my worrying, crying and gray-hair-sprouting out of the way, she's on the mend and back at home. But I do ask her 2-3 times a day if she's still keeping her leg up. I'm going to drive my future children crazy; I can already tell!

Count to 10 and breathe

2009-06-09T15:25:00.001-06:00

God grant me the serenity not to drive to Salida and beat a certain negligant/ignorant/moronic nurse to a pulp.

This sign should be portable

2009-06-05T14:03:00.002-06:00

Pet peeve

2009-06-04T14:26:00.011-06:00

I missed my Whiny Wednesday post. Well, skipped it because I didn't really have anything to whine about. But today, I thought of something although it's just more of a pet peeve. What is it exactly that gets me all riled up? I peruse through Craigslist on occasion and cruised over to the Pet section where I was met with ad upon ad of people "having to move and have to get rid of the dog", "I just don't have the money for a dog". Or, "having a baby and must get rid of dog". Um, what? I'm sorry, but these are just excuses to get rid of the dog that they don't want to deal with anymore. Plain and simple. Yes, there are cases of people where they have to move in with ailing relatives and dog would complicate things, or they're relocating for work and will be living out of motels. But the majority of people are just tired of dealing with the dog. I counted and have moved 7 times since I've had Finley and not once have I ever thought of getting rid of her. I've heard the excuse, "it's too expensive to live in a pet friendly apartment!" Actually smart guy, apartments that allow pets are usually cheaper than apartments that don't allow pets. A lot of the trendy downtown lofts and apartments that don't allow pets cost you a screaming arm and leg in rent.

I've heard of a lot of people getting rid of their pets because "they cost too much money". Dogs really don't cost that much to take care of. I have been at both ends of the income spectrum and never once had problems taking care of my dog or fathomed the thought of getting rid of her to give me a little more cash flow. Yes, the Finster gets some of the best food on the market(mainly because the cheaper stuff will drive you out of a room with her, ahem, digestion issues), I prefer the holistic/natureopathic approach when she needs it, and she gets all her necessary shots and vaccines each year. If it came down to it and money was really tight, I'd put her on a cheaper food and take her to the low-cost vaccine clinics. Yes, you too can be low income and have a dog too! Try laying off the McDonald's drive-thru everyday and you'd be surprised what it does to your cash flow, genius.

And for those getting rid of their pets because a baby is coming into the household....this irritates me too. I've heard a litany of reasons: cat will smother the baby (yes, they're that sadistic!), the dog could attack the baby (if you have any visions of having a baby, do not get a dog that doesn't like kids), I don't have the time (how much time are you spending on your dog to begin with?). Dogs really don't take up that much of your time. Trust me. I have one of the most hyperactive, energetic, in-your-face, playwithmeplaywithmeplaywithme dogs on the planet and taking care of her doesn't leave me strapped for time. Imagine the thought of walking your dog and pushing your baby in the stroller. At the same time. Oh the horror! Yes, there are some dogs who just don't like kids and I don't suggest getting a non-kid friendly pooch if you envision procreating. But by and large, dogs love babies and kids. They're gentle with them, they consider them another member of the pack, and they become their personal body guards.

If you're still not swayed, I'll leave you with these "horrendous" images of how the two just don't mix.

Where has the time gone?

2009-06-02T11:41:00.002-06:00

If I stop and think about what day it really happens to be at the time, I then trip over the thought of, "what have I been doing for the last week/month since I last had this thought!" They say 'time flies when you're having fun'. I say, 'time flies when you're living life'.

I have 10 months until I hit the big 3-0. Holy moley, I don't think I'm prepared for this! I just found my first gray hair the other day and now I'm being hit with that milestone??? I have 3 and a half months until the wedding and while I have the majority of it done and taken care of, there's the little things that will probably creep out of the woodwork the last week that will cause me to hyperventilate, freak out, have Dan give me the look he gives when I'm doing just that. It's been a year since I decided to pack up my life, hand over custody of the Finster to my parents, fill the Jeep up and head out to live the motel lifestyle with Dan. It was a hard decision and has thrown many many "items" our way but my life is already mapped out for me and I'm just along for the ride. I just hope "taken out by bus" is not on the map!

I make sure to take the time to enjoy life, as cheesy as it sounds. So many people don't do it; they're so caught up in their 90-mph lifestyle and blow past anything meaningful. It's listening to the Red wing Blackbirds' song when I take Finley out to do her thing; sitting on our cramped balcony and enjoying the sun and mountains in the distance; the smell of grass; the sound of rain bouncing off Finley's head this morning, even though I was not happy with her for taking forever to do her thing and then decide she didn't want to!

While I may not lead a luxurious lifestyle, I can sit back and say at least I lived.

Do you remember the time?

2009-05-22T09:16:00.004-06:00

I stumbled across the best time-wasting website today. It's called Awkward Family Photos and its filled with, you guessed it, seriously strange family photos. Please, check it out http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/ and take a look at this photo and take yourself back to the early 80's........................

Aqua Net made a killing off these people!

Heart-stopper

2009-05-15T12:50:00.003-06:00

Call it my worriers nature or a sixth sense but when my phone rang last night and saw it was my mom's cell phone, I felt nervous answering the phone. My mom proceeds to tell me that she and my dad are on the way to the hospital as my brother, Josh, had been shot. Not exactly something you expect to hear...ever, so it sent my head reeling. Where? Is he OK? How did this happen? I didn't get much information out of my mom initially and had to wait another hour before I heard from her again. He'd been camping in the mountains with friends and he and another guy were shooting targets when the "friend" dropped his rifle and it went off...into Josh's ankle. His ankle is shattered and the bullet is still inside, due to being in small pieces and too troublesome to remove. Josh will be okay but will be on crutches for 6 weeks and they'll need to watch for infection. My mom, on the other hand, is not doing as well. I can't imagine what it's like to get that phone call and wonder what's going on as you make the 45-minute trek to the hospital. The emotions a mother has for her child, especially when someone maims them with a gun, run extremely high. It's not helping that people are telling her not to be upset with the kid who shot my brother. Yes, it was an accident and I'm sure he feels horribly but for a mother, it's a little different when being irresponsible meets firearms. I can't say I wouldn't feel the same way in her shoes. I wish people would stop giving her such a hard time and put themselves in her shoes as a parent. I'm just praising God for it only being his ankle and not something much worse. I'm extremely grateful but still extremely shaken up to have gotten that call.

Whiny Wednesday

2009-05-14T10:09:00.002-06:00

While today is Thursday, I'm posting the Whiny Wednesday today. Only 1 thing on the docket for today:

Staff "retreat" that lasted 7 hours and was filled to the brim with yelling over each other and insults. I don't do well in that kind of environment. I was exhausted when I got home; and mildly cranky.

'Nuff said.

Me

2009-05-12T11:15:00.004-06:00

I AM … always working on bettering myself.
I WANT… a shoe closet! Hey, we all have the 'want list'!
I HAVE … to stop thinking about purchasing the uber-cute Betsey Johnson dress I found online...it's not meant to be (it's a size too big)
I KEEP … clothes too long that I rarely wear.
I WISH I COULD … buy the house with the beautiful kitchen I saw online :(
I HATE … gossipping and back-stabbing
I FEAR … my asthma.
I HEAR … the birds when I'm outside and know a few of them by their song.
I DON’T THINK … I will always be dragged down by my asthma.
I REGRET … when my temper appears.
I LOVE … Dan more than anything; I'm truly blessed.
I AM NOT … ready to be a mom yet but will throw myself 110% into it when I am.
I DANCE … like I should be on Dancing with the Stars...the good stars!
I SING … very well and on key but am shy to belt it out in front of others.
I NEVER … let my dog lick my mouth...eww, gross!
I RARELY … leave Target for under $50.
I CRY WHEN I WATCH … anything sad or sappy...proposals, weddings, deaths, pets dying...I'm a mess.
I AM NOT ALWAYS … patient.
I HATE THAT … I get more worked up about people blatantly cutting me off in traffic than I should.
I’M CONFUSED ABOUT … how my old health insurance company thinks I'm in the wrong regarding several bills.
I NEED … my alone time reading magazines at the book store.
I SHOULD … relax about all my medical bills and know that everything will work out...it always does.

Annie git yur gun!

2009-05-12T11:10:00.003-06:00

Seriously, there are no words. Actually there are: hideous, ridiculous, oh-my-gosh, holy crap, etcetera etcetera. I saw this gem on ebay and just couldn't tear my eyes away. What you wear this to, I'm not sure but I guarantee driving yourself there will be quite a chore in this pink puppy!

I'm dreaming of a kitchen!

2009-05-11T14:37:00.004-06:00

Living in an apartment makes you realize a few things: the designers suck at incorporating anything resembling storage into the floor plan, living on the top floor is not all it's cracked up to be, and you really could learn to love mowing a lawn. If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: living in an apartment is not my cup o' tea. However, don't think I'm not thankful for having a nice place with affordable rent because Lord knows, I certainly am in these current economic times! But man, what I would do to have a kitchen that can fit Dan, Finley and I in it. At the same time! And seriously, what is with the cabinets? They are designed so poorly in terms of space. And there's not enough of them! It's like they were made for people living in a dollhouse. And then there's the cabinets over the stove. You have to do a "crack it open an inch and slowly open" maneuver or you risk getting cracked in the dome with the hand mixer. Yes, I will be a happy, happy girl when I have a kitchen that allows me to put things away neatly as opposed to doing a toss-and-slam move.

Missing you tears

2009-05-10T17:35:00.003-06:00

Today at church, while waiting for Dan to talk with the pastor, I noticed some family dynamics that brought tears to my eyes. There were 2 girls, probably in their early 20's, and their grandmother. They were holding hands and swinging them back and forth. Then, each holding a hand as they walked back outside. It was all I could do not to start gushing tears as I watched them and I'm sure they thought I was crazy if they happened to notice this.

My grandmother passed away from cancer, right before Christmas of 2003. It was 6 short weeks from diagnosis to her passing and it was extremely difficult for all of us. She was so incredibly smart, witty and had a great sense of humor; even til the end. I was reminded of her so much in seeing this lady with her granddaughters and was saddened by the fact that my own grandmother will not be there to witness Dan and I get married in September. At least not in person anyway. She will be there, watching over us, I'm sure.

Wow

2009-05-06T13:06:00.006-06:00

I am a blogaholic. Yes I have my own blog but what I mean is, I love reading other people's blogs. Maybe "blog stalker" is a better term. I especially love looking at wedding photographers blogs. Being that photography is my biggest passion in life, I love seeing others work: the love, the passion, the different techniques. I came across yet another stalk-worthy blog recently and while going through his posts, saw that one of his weddings was held where Dan and I will be getting hitched in 4 short months. We have yet to actually see the venue in person so all I've had to go off of has been photos on the internet. And they've been the same ones...until now. This place is breath-taking in photos...I can't imagine what it will look like person..

Whiny Wednesday

2009-05-06T10:17:00.004-06:00

Time for my weekly rant 'n rave! So here they are:

The fact that just as I finished typing this entire post and selected all the text to change the color as I normally do, the cursor gets to the top of the page and all of my witty remarks are gone! Deleted! Things are never as funny when you have to rewrite them...
My poorly functioning immune system. While I was on my way to feeling normal again a week and a half ago, some minuscule germ I either ingested or stuck in my eye while rubbing it, I got sick again! Since I was still technically recovering from pneumonia, my immune system (poor at best) hadn't had a chance to get going again and of course, I came down with something that left me feeling awful and struggling to breathe. Again. As I type though, I'm feeling mild improvements over yesterday and the day before. Baby steps.
The guy in the Dodge Ram pickup truck who gave me a near heart attack and deliberately tried to maim me. It started with me merging in front of him as 2 lanes changed to 1, complete with blinker and room to do so. Guess this isn't what Mr. Rageaholic wanted to see and proceeded to get so close to my bumper I could only see the top portion of his windshield and keep trying to pass me on the right shoulder. This went on for 7 miles until we came to a stop light and he pulled up next to me where he proceeded to swerve into my car...twice. As if the first one didn't get his point across. I narrowly missed a couple cars and everything in my car went flying. While my heart is hemming and hawing about whether to work, I managed to get the license plate number and called the Highway Patrol. A few people gave me weird looks when I told them this but seriously, this guy has some serious anger issues and deliberately tried to hit me. If not for my cat-like reflexes, I would've been toast under his uber white-trash, lifted Dodge Ram. Now it's one thing to lay on the horn and give the finger when someone cuts you off (not that I'm condoning that behavior) but to try and run someone over for 7 miles when they merged in front of you legally??? You need therapy and a wake-up call. Although I am a little worried that I'll have another encounter with the wacko as this was on my regular route to work during rush hour.

Some interesting things in the news...

2009-05-05T10:55:00.002-06:00

I like watching the news as it keeps me informed and usually, entertained. There were a couple things I saw in the news today that I found worthy of a good eye-roll.

The first one are these racy photos that "surfaced" of Miss California. It's not the photos that bother me or even the fact that she's still in the media. Although, why is she still getting her 15 minutes when the pageant was weeks ago? Anyway, what bugs me is she says the photos are from her "modeling" and aren't recent...they're from when she was a teenager. I'm sorry but what parent allows their teenage daughter to have partially nude and suggestive photos taken of them? Fine if you're over 18 and out of the house but underage and you look like a hussy and I certainly would not be bringing up they were from when I was a teenager. Especially when you're teaming up with a family values campaign. Hypocricy annoys me. Again, it's not the photos that bug me, it's the whole underage Lolita thing she's got going on.

Next bit o' news is local. A woman was arrested here in Colorado for taping her boyfriend's dog to the fridge. Yes, taped. To the fridge. Apparently she was mad that he wouldn't get rid of the dog so clearly introducing Fluffy to Mr. Packing Tape was the next viable way to get back at him?!? So not only did she wrap up his muzzle and legs, but she then stuck him upside down to the fridge, a la Spiderman! Ahh, an animal lover after my own heart...

Is the end really near?

2009-04-30T11:15:00.002-06:00

Well, it appears that the swine flu has arrived in Colorado and as you can assume, pandemonium has struck. 2 people have been diagnosed and both are at home recovering. People are freaking out to say the least. I'll admit, I got sucked into the live webcast regarding the diagnosis' and next to the video was a chat screen. I got a serious laugh out of it. Some of the best comments were:

"I babysit a Mexican kid!!! I'm going to have to cancel and stop sitting him!"
"OMG, I had Mexican food last night!"
"Someone needs to find the woman who wasn't hospitalized and quarantine her!"
"I'm not going to go anywhere Spanish is spoken."

Wow. Really people? It baffles me the amount of ignorant people that are out there. I really hope I don't run into any of them. Yeah, it would be great if I didn't get swine flu but they're saying people are recovering from it just fine so let's ease up on the mass hysteria.

There are no words...

2009-04-29T13:16:00.003-06:00

Please don't think I would want anyone to become infected with the Swine Flu but if there were ever 2 people who "should"....wow

Whiny Wednesdays

2009-04-29T10:52:00.004-06:00

I missed a couple of Whiny Wednesdays due to my having pneumonia and secretly hoping a Mack truck would drive over me. Not likely to have happened as I was holed up on the couch...on our 3rd floor apartment. Two Wednesdays ago was my 29th birthday. What a way to spend your birthday! Wow, one year away from being 30. It does cause my eyes to bug out on occasion when I stop to think about it but I think I'll handle it okay. If I were single with no Mr. Perfect's in sight and living with 5 cats in a basement apartment, then yeah, I might really freak out. Last Wednesday was my first day back at work and it was a rough one. Luckily I have recovered and (knock on wood), am feeling much better.

So here it is...this week's Whiny Wednesday!

People who don't return their carts to the cart corral. I may have mentioned this one before but this drives me absolutely batty! This is the ultimate display of laziness. You somehow managed to push this 500-pound plastic wheeled beast around a grocery store for an hour yet you can't wheel its empty carcass 10 feet to a corral to keep it from taking out other vehicles and parking spots??? The one I really love is where people will drag it UP onto a rocky median so it won't roll into a car. I appreciate the thought on that but you just spent triple the calories in hauling that thing up a hill as opposed to pushing it on a zero incline to the corral. Can you tell this is probably my biggest pet peeve?
People traveling TO Mexico. Now I'm trying not to get all Boy in the Bubble regarding the Swine Flu but I will tell you one thing, you will not catch me going to or near Mexico anytime soon. They've discovered that the majority of the people who traveled to Mexico are coming back with it! It's one thing if you didn't know about it and unknowingly picked it up but when you're Mikey Machismo who says "ain't no swine flu gonna get me" before hopping a plane for Cabo, you're an idiot and you're only spreading the disease further when you get back, you moron.
Apartment living. I'm lucky to be living in a nice complex with cheap rent but when the warm weather and springy vibes start popping up, I yearn for a home with a yard. To sit in the back yard after work with something cold to drink, look up through the trees, watch Finley be terrorized by squirrels, run my bare feet through the grass. Yes, I really want a home with a yard.

Ok everyone...on your mark, get set, panic!

2009-04-27T10:11:00.002-06:00

I remember a few years ago, we were all supposed to grab our ankles and hold on because SARS and the Bird Flu were comin' to town! This was supposed to be the next 'big one' and it was supposed to eradicate millions. There were a few people in Asia (around 250 I believe) that died but it never reached the epic proportions it was "supposed to". You just saw photos of people in Asia running around with masks on.

Now we've got another one on our hands. This time in the form of the Swine Flu. I know it's an actual disease but seriously, who thinks these names up! "Ok guys, this one looks like it originated in an area where there's lots of office supply factories. We'll call this one the Stapler Flu." Seriously. I have yet to figure out how it gets from pigs to people. Although maybe I don't want to spend too much time visualizing that little miracle.

Now the President is telling us to "be concerned" but not panic. Riiight...good one! You know how the public is; they'll stampede right over the edge of this preverbial cliff. I'm really trying not to worry about it but it does have me a little nervous as I'm just getting over pneumonia and am not up to fighting form again yet. That and I get sick a little too frequently. I will admit it is nice to know that there is a vaccine available that can help someone if they do in fact get the Miss Piggy Flu. As for me? I'm a little skeptical that this will reach the biblical proportions they're expecting it to but just in case, I've got a canister of Lysol germ wipes next to my computer. Is it offensive to wipe some one's hand with it before you shake it?

1 ticket to Miseryville...

2009-04-21T12:21:00.003-06:00

Last Sunday, I awoke with a slight cough. Knowing how my body is and what would probably happen, I took some Zycam to try and thwart the cold I was sure was coming on. Fast forward to that evening, and I was feeling more like the flu was coming on: chills, extreme body aches, headache. My darling husband ran a bath for me, complete with bubbles and a Glamour magazine. And while that seemed to help, I was still feeling somewhat miserable. Monday morning came and I was feeling even more bedraggled. After calling in sick to work and sleeping another couple hours, Dan suggested we haul my sorry self in to the doctor. And boy am I glad we did! After spending most of the visit flat out on the table and a rapid flu test, it was decided I had pneumonia. You've gotta be kidding me! It's an old person illness! But thanks to my asthma, I'm especially susceptible to getting it. Super. Lucky me.

The doc prescribed an antibiotic that is normally given via IV in hospitals...it's fast acting and super strong. It's also used to kill anthrax. No joke. Any bacteria in my body had no chance of surviving after I started taking this stuff. It gave me some serious headaches and I had to drink a ton of water to help keep the ole body running as the medication tended to mess with the body's ability to hydrate.

Monday and Tuesday were pretty miserable for me. I had a pretty good fever going which of course switched between sweats and chills, body aches, coughing up all sorts of lovely things from my lungs and an overall feeling of "I've been run over repeatedly by a Mack truck." Thankfully, I've been feeling much closer to normal that last couple days and will try going back to work on Wednesday. Kinda need to as I used up my sick days already and money is certainly not growing on trees these days! I will, however, be heading to the doctor's in a month or so to get the pneumonia vaccine as I have no intention of getting this crud again...ever!

Giving back

2009-04-09T10:58:00.002-06:00

64 miles round trip. That is my commute every day, to and from work. It is not ideal and I swore I would never have a commute like that. Ever. But the economy being what it is, this is the commute I'm stuck with. I started a new route about a month ago on the suggestion of my boss after I told him how much I hated my current route home: half of it was stop and go traffic where you were constantly glued to your rear view mirror to see who next was going to come within inches of slamming into your back end, the other half was stop and go stoplights and Granny riding the brakes. So while this new route added an extra 6 miles to my drive, I decided to give it a try. It's a beautiful drive: ranch land, oil derricks, goats, horses and the view of the mountains driving west is just amazing. I always seem to notice something new each day and a couple weeks ago, noticed a vinyl "Volunteer Here" sign on a fence. Right next to it was the entrance to the Colorado Therapeutic Riding Center. I kept the name in my mind until I could get home and do a search for them online.

Over that weekend, I found CTRC's website and started reading their all the information they had to offer. Not only on their organization but also on their volunteering. They offer therapy in the form of horseback riding to people with mental and physical disabilities. I decided right then I wanted to see what I could do to become a volunteer. After a few emails and phone calls, I was signed up for my orientation day.

Last night I pulled into the parking lot and met with the volunteer coordinator and began my training, so to speak. It was then on to meet with my "instructor" for the evening, as well as the horse and rider we'd be assisting. While I won't go into specifics on the rider (other than she was so enthusiastic), our horse was Lou...a high-energy, nippy mare who reminded me of my old horse, Baylor. Not exactly a good reminder as she kicked me in the hip at one point during our time together!

I will admit I was extremely nervous. I didn't want to say or do the wrong thing; didn't want to accidentally offend anyone. I do tend to stick my foot in my mouth at times and certainly did not want to do that here, of all places. Trying to quell the nervousness, I focused on the horse and my surroundings. I love the barn environment. I love the smell of it-all of it. I love the sounds-the horses snorting, the sound of saddle leather. It brings back memories of riding as a kid and that definitely made me happy.

While I was more of a "shadower" yesterday, I will be starting class on my own as a volunteer on Saturday. And while I'm still a little nervous, the thought of being able to be a part of something so awesome is overriding that and I'll just have to get over my fears!

The heart of a volunteer is not measured in size, but by the depth of the commitment to make a difference in the lives of others.-- DeAnn Hollis

Whiny Wednesdays

2009-04-08T15:12:00.002-06:00

Yes, it's time for my weekly complain-fest...Whiny Wednesdays! Actually not too much to whine about this week as it has been a good one.

People in my apartment complex who do not clean up after their dogs. This is right up there on my list of pet peeves...no pun intended. It's simple really: you own a dog, you pick up its poop. If this is beneath you, then don't own a dog. No it's not the most glamorous activity but I do it and so should you!
The crazy lady at the bus station. My work is giving me a free RTD pass so I can ride the bus to and from work and the Light Rail if I so desire to get downtown Denver. Driving 64 miles roundtrip 5 days a week is a little taxing so having someone else drive for me will be divine. And the people on the bus during the week are usually commuters like me. I digress! I'm picking up my pass and a woman in front of me pitches a full-on hissy fit because she doesn't like the photo on her replacement pass. Will not accept it. Wants another photo taken. States that she took 20 minutes putting her makeup on that morning so that she could get a new photo taken. After seeing her application job, not something I would brag about.
The insanely crazy drivers on my drive to and from work. I'm talking swerving across 3 lanes of traffic, doing 85, and almost taking off bumpers of everyone you pass. My drive is very scenic and I cannot enjoy it due to the fact that I have to constantly watch out for Road Rage Ronny in his Hyundai.

Wow, only 3 and they weren't that major! Happy Wednesday all!

Let's hear it...awww!

2009-04-06T16:01:00.002-06:00

Last Friday, I came home to find an envelope on the kitchen counter with my name in Sharpie. The handwriting looked surprisingly like Dan's. I asked him what he was and offering me no help, I shredded it in a jiffy. It was the first of several clues leading me to an early birthday present. A little treasure hunt if you will. I followed all of the well thought out clues to find 2 pretty sweet (in many ways) gifts: Marley & Me on DVD and a package of pink bunny Peeps! I love Peeps...no nutritional value and no real taste but an Easter-time staple. And we watched M&M last night...I cried yet again.

Yet another reason why Dan is just wonderfully amazing! Awwww!

Those with dignity need not apply

2009-04-06T09:44:00.003-06:00

There is nothing like stumbling downstairs with the dog at 6:30 on a Monday morning with hair seriously resembling Albert Einstein and having to help her remove a rather stubborn, ahem, BM (please do not make me spell it out), to make you lose any dignity you had previously. Yep, I just checked...none left...I will have to accumulate more.

And for those of you wondering, yes I used a plastic doggie-doo bag to help the process along! Geez guys, what do you take me for?!?

Goodbye to a favorite

2009-04-02T13:27:00.004-06:00

I am nothing if not a creature of habit. I find something I like and I stick with it for who knows how long. Usually when its discontinued or several years down the road, which ever comes first. A year or so ago, I become a devout lover of the Simply Orange juice. This stuff rocks...so great tasting! They also make a Simply Grapefruit and my favorite, Simply Apple.

Lately, my breakfast has switched between cereal (Cheerios or something by Kashi...I'm wild) and an english muffin with a glass of the Simply Apple nectar of the gods. Until today. Over the last week or so, my stomach was none too happy after having the english muffin and juice. Nothing major, just a smidge upset. Then Monday arrived. I'd woken up late, it was snowing...already I was a little frazzled. Why shouldn't something else set me over the edge! Literally about 2 minutes after I finished my muffin and juice, I'm heading into the bedroom to pick out some outfit for work worthy of Vogue (yeah right), I get "the feeling." You know the one. The "ooo, my stomach is not feeling good and oh crap, I think I'm gonna puke!" I fly into the bathroom and while I'll spare you the gory details, Simply Apple made an encore appearance. Twice. I instantly felt better and was a-ok for the rest of the day. I decided to take a break from the normal breakfast routine for a couple days...until today. I figured Monday's bodily physics was a fluke and I was just having one of those days. I'd felt fine every other day after, so down goes the english muffin with a Simply Apple chaser. Ha, who's boss now juice! Apparently it is. Walking around taking deep breaths and trying to convince your body that it is fine and does not need to expell anything was the approach I was trying for. "Trying" being the opperative word here. This time I barely made it into the bathroom and my bangs and glasses got in the way. So it looks like that Simply Apple will now be Dan's juice of choice and I'll go with something boring like o.j. from here on out.

Mandy: 0
Simply Apple: 2

The elusive lunch break

2009-04-02T12:39:00.003-06:00

I have been working at my current job for almost 2 months now. I have my own office, complete with a real door and window...imagine that! Hey...I've never had an actual office before...it's always been cubes of some size and sort. During my lunch, I like to have "me" time: read a book or magazine, peruse the Internet for some useless piece of info, or make phone calls to fix things; like calling Chase to see if they can try and get a 3rd debit card to me...this time with the right name on it.

However, in these almost 2 months, I have yet to enjoy the full 30 minutes I'm allotted. No joke, I'm lucky if I get 10. Someone is always barging in when I have a mouthful of food or have my cell phone to my ear in what is obviously a personal call. This irritates me to no end honestly. Instead of barging (and I mean barging without knocking) in my office while I'm quite obviously trying to enjoy any semblance of a lunch, knock, poke your head in and tell me you'll come back when I'm done eating. Please do not hand me a stack of papers while I'm shoveling in salad and tell me you need it done soon. Please do not march yourself into my office when I'm discussing somewhat important personal matters on my cell phone and proceed to start talking to me about what you need me to do. I seriously wonder about the lack of manners in some people. I see people on the phone and I go back to my office to wait until they're done; I see people eating and I don't pick this opportunity to ask you to do something for me.

Next time, I'm going to come into the bathroom and ask you about the upcoming Board meeting.

Whiny Wednesdays

2009-04-01T09:20:00.005-06:00

I really don't like to complain out loud. Yes we all have our moments of "you've got to be kidding me's!" but maybe if I write them down once a week, I'll be less inclined to voice them aloud. So here it goes, I'm starting the Whiny Wednesday! I know, I'm so clever it leaves you speechless.

My windshield...it cracked again. In 2 places. They seem to have started as one chip and went in two different directions but now one of them seems to be arcing back toward the other. I worry they'll create a circle and my windshield will bust out a 6" circle while I'm driving. Probably during one of these storms we're supposed to have this week.
My fellow apartment dwellers. There are several residents in the complex that use their balconies as a storage unit/dumpster. It's so beyond trashy and this complex is anything but. However, they are turning it into a low-class ghetto. Okay, not really but I totally hate it and it bugs me to no end. I'm talking kids bicycles, empty boxes, plastic play centers (you know, the kitchens we all had in the 80's), rugs; you name it, it's there.
The 5 day work week. I'm seriously all for the 4-day work week. I will totally work 10 hour days so I can get a 3 day weekend. 2 days is not enough to do all my errands and then actually enjoy the not working.
My hair. I had the awesomely amazing idea to cut my hair all off last summer a la Victoria Beckham. Which I loved for awhile and then realized how much I love long hair. And being able to pull it back. It is not growing at the rate I prefer...i.e. an inch a day. Also, I tend to look at girls with long hair wistfully and they tend to think I'm checking them out. I'm not...I'm looking at their long hair and thinking, "why oh why did I cut my hair and why won't you grow back now?!?". I am not thinking, "how you doin' "
My right foot. I dropped a glass lid on my bare foot last night, causing me to scream out, maybe utter an inappropriate word or two. Now I have needle like pains in my big toe when I put weight on it. Not normal or feeling good.

That's enough whining for now. I feel better.

How hard is it...

2009-03-31T14:32:00.003-06:00

...to get my name printed correctly on my debit card? Changing my name has been an otherwise painless process as far as the paperwork and leg-work go but Chase is being difficult. They cannot seem to get my business checking account card right. Oh, they have the right name in the system and my personal and savings account cards are right on the money but for whatever reason, I am not meant to get a correct business card anytime soon! Let's hope the 3rd one is right!

Apparently the customer is not always right

2009-03-31T12:24:00.005-06:00

Last night, Dan and I met up with our uber-awesome wedding photographer, Julie, so they could finally meet, and also to discuss the timeline for the day of the wedding. I'm super excited for the wedding for so many reasons: to share our love for each other with our family and friends (cue awww-ing and eye rolling), to see all the hard work of crafty time in its finalized form, to get to dress up like a total girl, and to see what awesome photos we get at the end of it. I'll admit it...I'm probably most excited for that. I won't lie. Anyway, I digress...big shocker.

We headed over to this newish restaurant in the Highlands called Root Down. It's an old tire & lube center converted into a restaurant. It had a hip, trendy vibe inside with cool decor. Although the lighting left a little to be desired. I'm near blind anyway so throw in some low lighting and light colored font on the menu and who knows what I'll end up ordering! Julie only stayed for a drink and some wedding discussion and we stayed for dinner. Both choosing the smaller (and cheaper) portion of the beef tenderloin, our waiter took the order and so we waited and waited for the food. It arrived and was beyond delicious, obviously a good choice. A good choice until the bill came. Mr. not-attentive-to-his-customers-at-all-while-they-were-eating had given us the larger portion and charged us accordingly. No biggie I thought, we'll just tell him he charged us the wrong price, he'll correct it and off we go. Not so much. There is nothing worse than someone telling you you're wrong and flat out lying to save their rear. The conversation went something like this, "I asked for the smaller portion." "No, you didn't. If you don't say what size, we automatically give you the bigger portion." "I did ask for the smaller portion and you said okay." "No, you didn't. Don't know what to tell you." You don't know what to tell me? How about "Really? I don't recall that but I'll fix it for you." Okay, I know I'm forgetful at times but I know I asked for the smaller portion...specifically remember it and remember him saying 'okay'! And even if I hadn't asked for the smaller portion, wouldn't you as a wait-person ask what size you wanted if that dish was offered in 2 sizes??? However, I wasn't going to make a scene with this guy...even if it would've saved us $30 on our bill. I'm not a scene maker. Please stop rolling your eyes...I'm really not. Yes, I make comments to people when they cut in line, totally knock into me, or drop an F-bomb in the line at Target (said dropper was a 10 year old punk in training...he needed to hear he was a punk and had no class). But I don't make scenes...not worth the sky-rocketing blood pressure I get afterward.

But the free drink coupon we got on our way out made me feel soooo much better for paying extra on something I didn't want...not.

Count to ten and try not to punch the steering wheel...

2009-03-30T15:23:00.003-06:00

Have you ever noticed no one ever has a "Wednesday" or a "Thursday"? Mondays are the day when things go noticeably wrong. Today was totally one of those days. Stumbling into the living room to see that it was snowing profusely instantly brought a groan and a hauling out of the snow boots, which had been put away a couple days ago after the monumental storm that came through. There's nothing like walking the dog at 6:30 in the morning, with snow pellets whipping at your face. At least Finley seemed to realize that Mom did not want to stand around while she found the perfect "spot".

Back inside after starting the dishwasher and making a breakfast of English muffin and apple juice, I head into the bedroom to get ready. And realize that all is not well in the ole tummy. Cue the reproduction of my breakfast. Twice. I hate barfing, hate it. But then again, who does enjoy it? It's been at least 2 or 3 years since I last did it...haven't missed it. I did feel better instantly but was worried I'd be doing it on the drive to work. Visualizing what would happen if I tried to a)pull over quickly while doing 60mph or b)open the window and barf while doing 60mph had me freaked out. Wouldn't that be a pretty picture?

Feeling better and trudging into the biting snow in my oh-so-snazzy snow boots with my mug of freshly made (but overflowing and boiling into the burner earlier because I forgot about it while putting on makeup) chai in hand, I set the mug on my center console and toss bag (filled with lunch and shoes) and purse into the passenger seat. Getting into the drivers seat, I reach back to grab something and knock the mug backwards. Out goes the chai onto the freshly cleaned seats and carpet. Out come the one or two colorful words. Reaching for the box of tissues to start sopping up the mess, I realize that a lot of the chai was absorbed by the tissues as it went into the box. So now I can't even clean up the mess as the tissues are now all drippy, light-brown globs. I found 1 good tissue and attempted to clean up a floor mat but just threw it down as it was doing next to no good. Fine, I'll just start driving to work and pray it gets better from here on out.

Last week, my windshield cracked 12 inches...right down my line of vision. Followed by a 4 inch snake to the right. About 20 minutes into the drive today, I realize that there are 2 6-inch cracks making their appearance on the right side of the windshield. Seriously, what is the deal with the windshield?!? I had no idea there were any chips over there! Knowing how the day was going, there probably weren't. I'm guessing my windshield was like, "watch this...she's totally going to lose it! Crack crack crack! Wait, one more...crack!" And while it may not seem like a huge deal, just get it replaced with your insurance company, you may be thinking; Progressive does not offer glass coverage in Colorado. Period. Glass companies make a killing here due to the windshields that are constantly getting replaced. No glass coverage means I could be shelling out anywhere from $800 to $1,000. Not a chance when I'm saving for a taxes AND a wedding in 5 months. I'm just hoping it decides to stay put until I can either change insurance companies or after the wedding. And if it decides to go, please don't happen on a Monday...I don't think I could take it.

Sham-wow you're an idiot!

2009-03-30T09:03:00.004-06:00

It amazes me the dumb things people do. Case in point. We all know the Sham-Wow commercials right? This amazing cloth that soaks up the North Dakota floods in seconds...and it's equally "amazing" host. Well, recently the annoying host from Jersey was arrested in Miami. For hiring a prostitute. Who decided his tongue was tasty and wouldn't let go. And beating her to a bloody pulp. The guy's name is Vince...why am I not shocked? Looks like our lady of the evening got a couple hits in as well. Looks like Sham-Wow fame has not been kind to Vince...

Fun times at the zoo

2009-03-15T18:54:00.003-06:00

Yesterday we decided to venture out to the Denver Zoo as Dan had never been and it's been awhile since I'd visited myself. The Denver Zoo is not of the San Diego Zoo quality but it's still better than some I've been to. Yesterday was a beautiful day in the low 60's and I had an epiphany: going to the zoo in winter is waaaay better than going in summer. Sweltering heat, pushy-elbowing people, and the elephant house in July...mmm mmm, sign me up!

The crowds were definitely not as big but the usual suspects were still there. Kids, and their parents, acting like they'd never been out in public. It drives me berserk when people bang on the glass enclosures or yell at the animals. That and the map that someone threw into the kangaroo pen that they were so lovingly digesting. Rage ensued. I understand the animals are on display for us yahoos to look at but it's this ridiculous behavior that makes the animals snap and drag little Tommy through the cage bars. And Mommy Dearest, the fences are there for a reason: keep your kid from crawling over them into the tiger pit.....it will only end up as a headline on the MSN homepage.

We happened to go at a good time as most of the animals were being fed and that proved to be entertaining; especially the gorillas. It's so weird to see how people like they are in what they do: grabbing at things, climbing up things, and totally hiding away and hoarding lunch! When we reached the elephant pen, it was empty so we strolled into the pachyderm house where not only Dumbo and his homies were (getting some sort of weird elephant pedicure), but also the hippos, rhinos and this lovely little creature called a Tapir. Kind of a crazy looking and later as I learned, crazy acting.

He/she/it was munching on gourmet hay with its back-end toward us. I was standing a few feet away, animal and people watching, when the little girl next to me screamed. I turn to look at her to see what the deal was, since most of the kids we'd encountered to that point were screaming in some fashion, and was met with the worst sight ever. This thing was shooting pee out at a rate and force comparable to a fire hose. And it landed on people. It landed about an inch from my shoes. I've never back-pedaled so quick. Although, I can't say I've ever been put in a situation where bodily fluids were being shot at me like a cannon.

I think I've had my fill of the zoo for awhile.

Something blue...

2009-03-10T13:21:00.002-06:00

There's the old adage that goes with the bride: "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." I don't have the something old or borrowed yet. I have several something news: dress, veil, shoes (which I'm ordering soon) and I just found my something blue!

While purusing the blog of one of my favorite photographers, I saw a photo she'd taken of the bride's shoes. On the bottom were the cutest/coolest/neatest things ever! They were blue rhinestone words, with "I" on 1 shoe and "Do" on the other. I forgot about them until I saw them again in a bridal magazine recently and it showed where you could pick some up. So $10 later, and very well spent if you ask me, I purchased those puppies. Now I'm waiting for them to arrive and also waiting to find the perfect pair of shoes to pair them with!

Total tearjerker

2009-03-10T10:24:00.004-06:00

I'm a total emotional sap and am very willing to admit it. I cry easily. Especially when it comes to losing a pet. I've lost a few throughout my 28 (gasp) years and each time it's incredibly hard. My family has always viewed our pets (minus the stint we had in the accidental hamster breeding factory) as members of the family. We lost our soccer-playing Sheltie, Sophie, to cancer at 7. My German Shorthair, Lucy, was killed at 9 months by someone giving her rat poison. Each time was devastating.

While catching up on my wedding photographer's blog this weekend, I saw her latest post and knew it was going to be a rough one. A family had asked her (I believe) to photograph their last times with their golden retriever. He had suffered a spinal cord injury while playing ball and it had left him paralyzed; they were going to have him put down. Julie took some of the most emotional, beautiful pictures of this family spending time with this equally beautiful dog one last time. Her work is just awesome. Here is the link to the blog post and make sure you have Kleenex handy if the photo below that she took gets you going. http://www.julieharrisphotography.com/blog/2009/03/maddox/

Oh the things we do for our pets!

2009-03-06T09:44:00.004-07:00

I'm an animal lover, through and through. I tend to take better care of my pets than I do myself. They have good food, nice beds, are driven 25 miles to their "favorite" place so they can run and swim. You get the idea.

Finley is no exception. She lives the good life. About a year and a half ago, she started losing her hair along her sides. Not completely bald but enough so that she looked kinda naked if she was wet. I tried a slew of at-home remedies: switching to sensitive skin food, fish oil pills, and a ton of things recommended by those at Whole Foods. Nothing worked. Finally I took her to the vet and they were 99% sure that she had a thyroid problem as the thinning hair on the sides was indicative of a thyroid issue. Several blood tests and a lighter wallet later, it was not a thyroid problem. In fact, they couldn't find anything in her results. They gave me some prescription shampoo and conditioner that was not only expensive but also wouldn't let me return when it did nothing. The vets were perplexed and wanted to start trying out whatever test they could think of on her. I decided against it. Not only had her hair loss stabilized but I'm not going to shovel out hundreds of dollars at my expense because you have no idea what to test her for. However, around August of last year, her hair started filling back in and I thought the problem had fixed itself.

Recently, she's started losing the hair again and you can tell it's bugging her because she's constantly scratching her back. Hesitant to take her to the vet again: they still have no idea and want to "try" her on steroids to see what happens. No thanks! You're not pumping her full of steroids which are beyond harmful and do serious liver damage. I went back to Whole Foods instead. The lady in the supplements area was super knowledgeable and handed me a vial of Neem Oil, explaining what I needed to do.

So last night, yellow kitchen gloves on and vial in hand, I start working on the Finster. She didn't mind the doggie massage she was getting. They forgot to mention this stuff reeks to high heaven. Kind of a cross between peanut butter and garlic. Not real appetizing. And I have to rub it into her fur which makes Finley stink like a garlicky peanut butter sandwich.

I hope she appreciates this.

Sad but overboard?

2009-03-06T08:32:00.003-07:00

I frequently have the news on while getting ready for work in the morning, which then changes to the Today show at 7AM. A story came on that made me stop and listen. A girl in Ohio sent nude pictures of herself to her boyfriend's cell phone, who then decided to broadcast them to everyone at their high school once they broke up. The girl was then repeatedly harassed and eventually hung herself, apparently due to the harassment. Her mother was on the show on a vendetta to make someone pay. She wanted the school to be responsible for her daughter's suicide. Apparently sending explicit texts - photos and texts themselves - is a broadening thing in young kids. It's called "sexting".

Now I don't have kids of my own but I like to think of myself as able to see both sides of a situation. I agree that the school should have done something about the harassment the girl was getting from classmates but at the same time, what if they didn't know it was going on? If the girl didn't say anything to officials, how are they to know about it and how is it the school's fault she then hung herself? The mother also wants to charge those involved in the harassment with "distributing child pornography" since her daughter was 17 at the time. If that charge sticks in court, the kids (some under 18 already) could then have to register as sexual offenders! A 16 year old girl has to register as a sexual offender for life because she passed along a photo of a classmate. Hmmm. Losing a child, I'm sure, is probably the worst thing a parent can go through. You want someone to pay for taking away your offspring, for making them suffer. But is suing a school and turning underage kids into sexual offenders really going to make her feel better and make the situation right?

Kids can be absolute monsters, I can attest to this. I was teased a lot in middle and high school because I had glasses, was quiet and had no boobs...jackpot for bullies. I was in tears on more than one occasion. My mom knew about the teasing but I dealt with it on my own; I stopped reacting to the teasing and my tormenters soon realized I wasn't fun to tease anymore because they didn't get a reaction out of me.

I even had a good friend commit suicide a couple years ago so it's not like I'm insensitive to the suicide issue. It was hard to deal with and all of us were wondering if we missed signs or could've done something.

I just wonder if this country has gotten a little sue happy and too quick to point fingers.

A trainwreck for national television!

2009-03-03T10:08:00.002-07:00

Last night, I tuned in to the finale of The Bachelor. Let me preface this by saying I am not a devout watcher of the show. I saw the first episode and the last two. I can only take about thirty seconds of the poppy, saccharine-sweet, catty girls on the show and I'm done. I was convinced he was going to bring Jillian back and pop the question to her but certainly was not prepared for him dumping Fiance' Du Jour #1 on national television, only to turn around and suck face with Option #2 five minutes later! The original girl, Melissa, was a little too perky for me but she seemed sincere. She did seem to show amazing composure when he dropped the doozie. "I know I said I love you and all that other heart warming crap but I'm really just not that into you!" I think she was totally right by calling him a bastard. I'm guessing she probably had a whole other slew of choice four-letter words for him but being that America was sitting on their edge of their seats watching this trainwreck, she had to show some class and keep it at that. Everyone already feels bad for you...don't go psycho on us and justify Jason's reasons for kicking your rear to the curb.

Then to bring Molly out (aka Plan B), totally bait her by asking if she still has feelings for him and would she take him back. Cruel but you gotta keep the ratings up! I have no idea how the host kept it together. I would be picking my jaw off the floor, gasping, slapping hand over mouth, "oh no he didn't-ing", etcetera etcetera. But that is why I'm not a TV host. She did look like she was caught in the middle of the world's worst joke when Jason dropped the tidbit of the night. But what kills me is she was soooo quick to take him back! Argh! Seriously, have a little dignity girl! At least take him back off camera. You're only showing us that it's okay to be the sloppy seconds.

It totally could've turned Springer...especially if they'd brought Molly out at the same time! Apparently there's a Part 2 on tonight and I'm curious to see how they can outdo themselves this time. Sadly, I will be tuning in.

Moving...again

2009-02-21T19:43:00.002-07:00

The day has finally come. The one I've both been looking forward to and dreading equally. That's right: moving day. Well, at least the first day of 2 days of moving. This involved driving up to Buena Vista to put everything from storage into the back of one of my favorite moving company vehicles: Uhaul. The trip was uneventful (thank you God) but the brakes were definitely on the sketchy side and I wasn't sure the transmission was going to stay where it belonged. With me at the helm, I had my trusty sidekick back in her shotgun position. Miss Finley is back with her mom. I'm not sure Dan's as excited as I am about her being back in the family but it's nice to have her wreaking havoc everywhere she goes again.

Tomorrow we head over to our much bigger, top floor, corner unit apartment and not a moment too soon. The upstairs neighbor has decided taking his dog outside is too much work and is back to letting Fluffy do his thing on the balconey.

More to follow...

I will kick you in the...

2009-02-08T19:10:00.003-07:00

I am always on the lookout for new shoes to add to my always growing collection. Lately, I've been looking for shoes to wear with my wedding dress. I've already got the shoes for the reception picked out but just can't find something worthy of gliding down the aisle in my gorgeous dress. Until I saw these puppies! They're by the oh-so-fab Christian Louboutin, who is always coming out with amazing works of shoe art.

If you were to trip or accidentally kick someone's shins, you'd be calling up the local EMT's to come and remove the fabulous Louby's from your skin. Needless to say, I think I will be passing on these. Maybe for a later date...

The joys of apartment living

2009-02-07T22:59:00.005-07:00

The last few weeks have been a bit of a strain for not only myself, but for Dan as well. While waiting for our flight from Denver back to Philadelphia after Christmas, we got the call that there was no more work for me and I basically needed to pack my crap and go back to Colorado. Not only was I not happy about the prospect of not having a job and income anymore, I was equally unthrilled with the prospect of the torturous drive from northeastern Pennsylvania back to Denver. Have you ever driven through Kansas? Booor-rring! So I made arrangements to stay with some good friends (bless them) and arrived after 3 days of endless gas stations and signs for the World's Largest Prairie Dog. (I so wanted to stop and see but was too tired of staring at the same flat landscape to prolong my journey anymore.)

I've been back about a month and am having a hard time finding employment. This is not the best time to be looking for a job, needless to say. While the original plan was for me to find a good job and Dan would be joining me soon thereafter, we all know plans change. The economy wasn't good to his job either and he was out in Denver a couple weeks after me. We stayed with another good friend of ours and while we were beyond thankful for the gesture, we were dying to get into a space of our own. Living in motel rooms for the last 7 months (longer for him) makes you a little wacko at the possibility of having a HOME of your own that doesn't have someone knocking on your door every morning yelling, "Housekeeping!"

So I found a nice apartment complex for us: decent neighborhood, accepted pets (I finally get Finley back!), very affordable and in-unit washer and dryer! This was especially thrilling for me as I'd been doing my laundry in coin-operated junk for several months so this was going to be a serious luxury.

The apartment people made a minor error (actually pretty big and seriously annoying) in our living arrangements. I was originally slated to move into our 2 bedroom spread the last weekend in January. 2 days before move-in, they call with the words no one wants to hear, "we have a problem." The current tenant was staying an extra 3 weeks which no place for Mandy and her belongings to live. They offered the solutions of a temporary 1-bedroom til ours was ready or their biggest 2 bedroom unit for an additional $200 a month. No thanks. We decided to go with temporary housing so that we could at least stop couch surfing and have our own space.

While we haven't really unpacked anything, it is nice to be somewhat domestic again. The apartment complex is pretty quiet and our apartment is treating us well. Except for one thing: the neighbor above us. It was bound to happen. Irritating neighbors and apartments go hand in hand. But this one takes the cake.

While doing the move-in checklist the office gave me, I noticed some large stains on the concrete patio. I noted them and moved on, not thinking much of it. That night, I hear someone doing the Mattress Mambo above me and I'm certainly not happy about it as I had to deal with a previous neighbor's "activities" in the past and was hoping this wasn't a repeat. Finally falling back to sleep, I'm awakened by the sound of neighbor's dog walking on the balcony above the window. I sleep with the window open because I like a slightly arctic temperature to sleep and the city sounds don't bother me. Soon, I hear what sounds suspiciously like doggy neighbor peeing on the balcony...onto my patio below. Awesome. Just what I want to hear. Over the next couple days, I hear this a few more times and also notice pieces of 'doo on the patio as well. Guess where they came from? It now smells like a stock yard on the patio. Being a fellow dog owner, I'm fastidious about cleaning up after my dog wherever she goes because I do not like to step in a steaming pile someone left behind because they were too lazy to pick it up. That's a huge pet peeve of mine: you own a dog, you clean up after it...period.

While we'll only be in this apartment for another couple weeks, it wasn't a huge deal for us but I made sure the office knew that the stains and piles were not from us but from the lazy reject above us. No way am I going to clean up that mess. Needless to say, they were not happy and said they'd take care of it. But wouldn't you know, I'm now seeing lazy reject neighbor take his dog outside on a leash! Not trying to stereotype, but he (and his equally sketchy-looking dog) looks like the type who thinks it's cool to let Fido crap onto his neighbors below. Taking your dog outside to go to the bathroom: what a novel idea!

Emotional much?

2009-02-03T18:39:00.003-07:00

Anyone that knows me well, knows that I am a total crier. I cried through Marley & Me (dogs dying is a total weak point for me), I cried when Chandler proposed to Monica on Friends (every time I watch it too), I cry thinking about the father/daughter dance I'll be doing at my wedding, I cry thinking about my upcoming wedding. I believe you're noticing a trend here. I'm a crier and I have no need to apologize for it. I see the emotional side in everything.

This morning, I was checking the blog of a fave photographer of mine, Jenna Walker Photography, as I knew they had just had a baby girl and was hoping to see some posted pics. They named her Story Rose...what a cool name! Anyway, her sister is a fellow photographer and documented little Story's arrival and while I didn't cry through the slideshow, I certainly got the warm fuzzies. I challenge you to watch the slideshow at the bottom of the posted link and not have a big smile on your face after watching. Make sure you have your volume on when watching (if you do)...the song with the pictures is perfect!

http://www.jennawalkerphotography.com/blog/index.php?link=98&cat=2

OxyClean to the rescue!

2009-01-29T14:35:00.004-07:00

There are times when I find a product on the market, whether it be amazingly good or bad, I tend to rave about it to anyone who will listen. After reading some very interesting information on what I like to call the "Sweet Killer"...aka aspertame, I would tout these facts to all those with ears. Now I've found another product that I'm raving about this time. OxyClean.

About a year ago is when I first started my relationship with OxyClean. I'm sure we can all remember when OxyClean first came on the market. It was through the wonder of infomercials, hosted by Billy Mays the infomercial genius. Every commercial makes the product look like it can do anything magically but this stuff seemed too good to be true. However, I wasn't moved enough to buy it.

Fast foward a couple years and I'm cutting Finley's nails. I got one too short and it bled a little. No biggie I thought, as she seemed fine after a few minutes. I left to run some errands and when I came back, I soon realized it was a biggie. Finley had gotten on the couch and I'm only guessing her injured nail started up again. On 2 of the couch cushions. Which are cream microfiber suede. I started panicking as not only did it look like someone had been maimed on the sofa but the cushion covers wouldn't come off to wash and you couldn't flip the cushions. I did what every normal girl freaking out does...called my mom. She suggested the miracle cure, OxyClean. I was seriously skeptical but raced over to Target and started mixing this potion. Following the directions so as not to have this powder melt its way through my cushions, I start my work. And 10 minutes later, I became a devout follower of OxyClean. It removed absolutely every spot of blood from the cushions and even got them cleaner! Seriously, what else do you know of that does that?!?! I have had to use it again (bloody nose on once again, white sheet) and yet again, OxyClean to the rescue!

I could be a customer testimonial on their commercials. I'm telling you...put this stuff in your laundry room!