Falling For Autumn

Variety is the spice of life. I thoroughly believe that, even when it comes to the seasons. Some people only want warm weather all the time. Some people love the winter cold. The one season I love enough to ALMOST want all year round is Autumn. Don't call it Fall, either. Fall is what you do when you trip over a rock. Autumn is the most glorious season ever created. The funny thing is, I can't really put into words why I like Autumn so much. Yes I love the cool in the air, the harvest time, and Halloween. But, for me, there is this feeling in the air during Autumn that I can't even describe. It is like family and happiness and warmth and cool and love and togetherness and fun all wrapped into one. Needless to say, now that August is almost upon us, I am counting down the days until Autumn.

I will be the first to tell you that I have an extreme love for all things Autumn. This includes but is not limited to: pumpkins, Autumn leaves, caramel apples, corn mazes, Halloween decorations, skulls and skeletons, and Halloween costumes. I am not a dark or morbid person in general, but I love the idea of decorating that way for a month or two. I just like to try different ways of living. I am fascinated by all the different ways that people live, and if I can't live each and every one of those ways for a lifetime, at least I can try as many as I can for a short time. But I must admit, some lifestyles I enjoy more than others, and the Autumn lifestyle is definitely one of those.

Arms Of Steal, Ears Of Tissue

Tonight I am looking forward to another free swim day at the local pool. Our community has had these free swim days throughout the summer for residents of the city, and me and Mike LOVE going. It's not so much that either one of us are very graceful in the pool. It's just that the weather has been so ungodly hot that we are willing to risk public ridicule to get into those cool waters. Being unflattering in a bathing suit is not my only problem in the water. I don't know if it's just that I am not as spry as I used to be in the water, but it seems to find every way possible to irritate my senses. It burns my eyes, it goes up my nose, and it gets stuck in my ears. That last one has actually always been a problem for me. Punch me in the arm and I might cry for a few minutes, but get water stuck in my ears and I will cry for days until I can get it out. I can't think of a single more frustrating and irritating thing, and if you have no idea what I am talking about right now count yourself VERY LUCKY. My whole family is plagued by ear problems. Ear infections, wax clogging, punctured ear drums. Yep, my dad, in all his wisdom, actually punctured my brother's ear drum once by spraying water in there to get out some wax. Don't look at me. It wasn't my idea. Anyway, my brother later had to get surgery to repair his eardrum and none us us ever trusted our dad to come near our ears again. That said, I am very protective of my ears. So at the pool I make sure not to swim too deep so the pressure won't be too strong for my poor ears to take. Also, I don't do any crazy moves in the water such as somersaults or handstands, to minimize the chance that I might get water stuck in my ear. I am seriously thinking of investing in some good ear plugs, nose plugs, and goggles so that if I didn't already look like a huge dork in the water, I will for sure.

Unnecessarily Complicated

Once again I come to you from my humble abode to complain about the ways of the world. Today's topic: paperwork. I will be one of the first to admit that paperwork is a necessary evil, HOWEVER, I also think it has gotten somewhat out of control in recent years. For example, a few days ago I had to get a name changed on the title to my car. Seems simple enough? Think again. I had to make several trips between my credit union, where I have my auto loan, and the DMV before I accomplished my task. The problem? NO ONE seemed to understand the paperwork. Not the guy at the credit union, not the lady at the DMV, not me. Point #1: if most people of average intelligence can't understand the paperwork, it has gone too far. Point #2: If everyone involved is jumping through hoops for no apparent reason to finish the paperwork, it has gone too far.

I have also noticed how manuals for electronics, such as cell phones, have grown from a small pamphlet to a five-volume encyclopedia. Maybe this is because electronics have become more complicated, but think about it. Does anyone really read that entire manual? NO! Do they even look up how to perform certain functions on their phones? NO! If they can't figure out something on their phone most people call the customer support or look it up on the internet. All those manuals are just wasted trees. Point #3: Any paperwork that is longer than ten pages is likely to never be read and could and SHOULD be simplified for the sake of EVERYONE.

So there is my rant. It started off as 27 pages long, but I condensed and simplified it to only include the most vital points just for you. Don't you feel special?

Fascinated By Paper

Today I got some scrapbook stickers! I know the use of an exclamation mark is not usual here, but it feels right for me. Even when I was a young child I remember going to craft stores and just being in awe. Not much has changed. I still find tiny and glittery things irresistible. I could browse the sticker isle for hours and I am fascinated by paper. Yes paper. Don't blame me. I have no idea how I got this way.

When I was a kid I would collect things that I liked. Some of these things included pencils with little designs on them, erasers in the different shapes like sunglasses, tiny toys like bouncy balls and slinkys, and stickers. I think stickers were my very first collection. Mind you, I didn't do anything with these collections except periodically take them out and look through them with loving affection. The one time I took a collection out of the house was when I brought my pencil collection to school for show-and-tell. The whole collection, except for one, promptly got stolen out of my desk during recess. Thus ended any sharing of any of my collections.

These days I try to keep my collecting in check by only keeping things that have sentimental value or that will have some future use. Every once in a while I will get the urge to go through everything and weed out stuff to donate or throw away. In this way I avoid being on the the show "Hoarding: Buried Alive".

Dream On

I thought it was about time for a change of blog background even though I became emotionally attached to the last one. I do that sometimes, become emotionally attached. When Mike and I went on vacation to Las Vegas I left my comb there, and to this day I still morn the loss of my comb even though I have a new one. You may think I am joking, but I'm not. Ask Mike. Ever since I was a child I have been slightly possessive of my things. I took good care of them all and loved them like my children. So if anyone messed with my things (for example: half-whit, dirty brothers) I would generally freak out. I am mostly over the freaking out part, except for today when I found out Mike had used my tiny microfiber cloth that I use to clean my glasses and had gotten a very little black mark on it. I didn't so much freak out as I glared at him with my laser-beam eyes. He quickly promised to get me a new one which was probably in his best interest if he didn't want me to come at him like a spider monkey.

What I really wanted to write about before I got distracted by my possessions was dreams. I believe, for the most part, that dreams have no real significance and this is the reason why - When I am sleeping and I have to pee I always have a dream about being in a very crowded, very large restroom. I wander around for hours trying to find an acceptable place to pee since all of the toilets and stalls are either broken, missing a door, or disgustingly dirty. Even if I do manage to find a place to pee in my dream, I never get any relief. I still have to pee again, and the cycle starts all over. Obviously this means I have to pee in real life and I don't get relief because my brain is too stupid to wake me up to go to the real bathroom. I think that all dreams have a similar cause whether they are about peeing or not. They are usually based on something I was thinking about, worrying about, or watching on t.v. previously. Sure I have entertained the idea that dreams have some mystical meaning about what will happen in your life. But I have come to the conclusion that dreams (at least my dreams) are nothing but nighttime entertainment.

Why I Love My Husband

When a friend of my husband's who had never met me before asked what Mike and I had in common, we were both dumbfounded. "Well we both like.......What we have in common is......You see.......Ummmmm......." Neither one of us could come up with a good answer. Then the friend tried to help by listing geeky things that Mike likes to see if I like them also.

Do you like Star Trek?
No.
How about World of Warcraft?
No.
Dungeons and Dragons?
No.
Anime?
No.
I know! Football!
No.

He finally gave up, but I continued thinking, "Why do I love my husband?" The answer is hard to put into words, but I will try for the sake of this medium.

Mike is like the other half of me who can do everything that I can't.
He is the silly when I am serious and the loud when I am quiet.
He is the only person who can look at me and I know exactly what he is thinking.
He is the only person I can dance in front of and with.
He has a caring heart that is bigger than most people could imagine.
He takes care of me when I need it and makes me laugh when I am sad.
He tells me I am beautiful every day.
He does everything in his power to make me happy.
He is a good friend, no only to me, but to all his friends.
He tries to always make himself a better person.
When he hugs me I feel like I belong in his arms.
He loves me and I love him.

Girly Girl

Growing up, I never learned the ways of beautification that usually come with being a girl. My mom wasn't bad looking, but she was more nerd than model. So, for whatever reason, I was on my own when it came to learning about make-up and hairstyles. It also didn't help that I had no sisters. Only a few times did I experiment upon my brothers with less and desirable results.

My mom's idea of make-up was pouring a little glob of Cover Girl liquid foundation in her hand and then rubbing it over her entire face like sunscreen. Then she finished off the look with a very bright lipstick. She usually only did this on Sunday or if she was going out to a party or something of the sort. I didn't understand it at the time, because I thought she looked great without make-up. I now know that most woman feel a security in make-up whether it makes them look better or not. Even though I loved my mom dearly, I am glad this tradition didn't catch on with me, except for my preference for Cover Girl.

In elementary I went through my god-awful experimental hair phase. Why no one ever stopped me I will never know. Most of my friends at the time had their hair done for them every morning by their mothers. Not me. I was left to my own devices. There were no style magazines laying around our house, so my only frame of reference was the hairstyles I saw on my friends at school. Sadly, I had no idea how to recreate what I saw. This resulted in such styles as -

the ponytail sticking directly out of the side of my head

the candy cane I wore as a hair decoration for Christmas

the mile-high hair-spray-encrusted bangs

And my personal favorite -

the frozen hair and resulting headache from waking to school in the winter with wet hair

I like to think I turned out pretty well after all that hideousness. I can now French braid my hair on my own, make a decent-looking ponytail, and I never use food items for hair accessories. It took a lot of magazine-reading and beauty show-watching, but I can finally say a am a bit of a girly girl.

Go Easy On Me

Let me tell you, I have so much to write about. Wait, that was a lie. The whole summer is basically flying by in blur. When you are a kid you look forward to the summer because you get a break from school and homework and all those annoying things. But when you are an adult, there are no such things as breaks. NEVER. NEVER EVER. If someone had told me when I was a kid that being a grown-up was like endless school, I would have never grown up. But here I am, grown up, so there is no going back now. I guess I could act like a kid if I wanted, but then I run the risk of going to jail, becoming homeless, or, worst of all, having people think I am seriously mentally handicapped. Think about it. If you are 3-years-old and you throw yourself on the floor in a store and start crying because your mom won't get you a candy bar, it is considered fairly normal if not annoying. If I did the same thing today, I'm sure I would get more than a few stares. The world can be a very harsh place when you are an adult. Things that were nothing when you were a kid suddenly carry a very severe punishment. Don't want to pay your taxes? Jail! Can't get a job? Go hungry! Need medical insurance? Too bad! It's not all bad being an adult. I can stay up as late as I want, eat whatever I want, and basically do whatever I want within the law. But when it comes to responsibility, go easy on me once in a while.

The Blog With Pictures

Today Mike and I went to the farmer's market in downtown Ogden. I sure love that place. If it went on every day I would be there, preferably with money. I just love the idea of buying local produce. Not only do they have produce, but other locally-produced items such as salsa, bread, fish, jam, and baked potatoes. Mike and I also ate the most amazing three-berry pie I have ever had. Notice I am concentrating on the food. The food is what I love about the farmer's market, but they also have lots of other things like clothing, lotion, artwork, and jewelry. I was especially intrigued by the henna tattoo stand. I wanted to get one just to maybe ease me into the idea of getting a real tattoo, but I also didn't want to bake in the sun while waiting to get one. Maybe next Saturday.

I realize I have been seriously slacking on the photo portion of my blog. The only excuse I have is laziness. I also thought maybe, just maybe my words would be powerful enough to stand on their own, but that is just silly talk. Everyone knows that any good blog has pictures. So here is a tomato plant!



Random enough for you? So it is not just any tomato plant, but MY tomato plant that is finally bearing delicious, succulent tomatoes. I could probably eat these tomatoes all day every day if there were enough of them. The only problem I have with it is that a few of the leaves at the bottom are shriveling and dying. I'm not sure if that is a sign of things to come or just a natural part of being a tomato plant. I wouldn't know, having never been a tomato plant myself. At least it is doing better than my herbs.



Here is what they used to look like:



The chives completely died and had to be replanted. The others are on life support. I have fought tooth and nail for those herbs, but obviously I don't have the herb-growing touch. I only water them now because I feel sorry for how pathetic they look. Poor poor little herbs.

Here is one more picture just for the heck of it:



Bear loves to cuddle with Mike and if she can do it on the bed it is even better because we don't allow her up there very often. Let me rephrase that - I don't allow her up there very often. Mike would let her sleep with us every night if he could. I don't allow it because I don't enjoy waking up with dog hair plastered all over my face. Also, Bear doesn't bathe often.....It had to be said. Sorry Bear.

Staying Positive

Do you ever feel like you just can't get ahead in life? Like you take one step forward and two steps back? That's how I feel sometimes. I'm not saying I don't control my own destiny, but there are also a lot of factors that are out of my control. The people who control those factors can be the most horrible people in the world. It doesn't matter because LIFE ISN'T FAIR. I know everyone has heard that before, but no one seems to think about it until life isn't going how you would like. When everything is going great in your life, you think life is fair. Tricky, tricky life. Life fooled you. But that is fine as long as life is always good to you. I think most people who have a good life only want to see that side of life. They don't want to think about the people who suffer and have suffered throughout history. Do we have to forget those who suffer to have a clear conscience and a enjoyable life?

I recently watched a documentary about a self-help guru who conducted retreats for people who paid a large sum of money to be taught by him. He basically taught that if you use positive thinking, the things you want will happen in real life. Kind of like, you think it and it becomes reality. The problem with that idea is - BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE. I'm sure there is some value in positive thinking. I think it makes you less stressed and overall happier with your life no matter how well your life may be going. But it is not everything. Case is point - At the guru's last retreat, three people died in a sweat lodge because they "thought" they could withstand the pain of breathing steam for an extended period of time. Positive thinking can't overcome physical limitations, so why would you believe it can overcome ALL limitations? I guess the moral of the story is - Be positive, but know your limitations. Life may not be fair, but don't let it get you down.

Proud To Be An American

Yet again I am behind on my posts, but you would be too if you had to water your lawn CONSTANTLY to keep it from dying a slow and terrible death. There is no rest for the wicked or for people who don't have a sprinkler system. I have also been a little out of sorts since finishing Beatrice and Virgil. It sounds like an innocent enough title, right? Wrong. I'm sorry if you want to read this book, but am about to tell the ending. Turns out the main character gets stabbed by an evil Nazi taxidermist who wrote a play about Beatrice and Virgil (a donkey and a howler monkey) who die a gruesome death at the hands of a teenage boy. The main character survives, but he is never the same after the stabbing. Also, his beloved dog somehow contracts rabies and mangles his cat, so both animals have to be put to sleep. Needless to say, I don't recommend this book unless you have a strong stomach and an urge to be depressed.

Let's concentrate on the happy, shall we? Yesterday Mike and I celebrated the 4th of July. It was actually the 3rd of July, but since the holiday falls on a Sunday this year, most people celebrated yesterday. There seems to be some controversy as to what day to celebrate, but personally I don't care much what day we celebrate as long as we can celebrate. The only bad thing about the 4th of July is that Bear is terrified of fireworks. I mean TERRIFIED, as in she looks like she fears serious bodily harm. She has tired every hiding spot in the house including the bath tub which she will usually go nowhere near. But she never seems to find a satisfactory place to hide because she never stays in one spot for more than five seconds. When she is not hiding she follows me and Mike EVERYWHERE with a look of, "Let's get out while we still can!" I feel so bad for her, but I don't know what to do short drugging her into unconsciousness.

Mike and I celebrated at a nearby park with family and friends. We played Frisbee, had ice cream and snow cones, lit sparklers, had a picnic, and watched fireworks. Basically, we did all of the traditional stuff, and I must say it was pretty fun. I am not a especially patriotic person and I don't love setting off fireworks all the time, but I am very happy to have been born in this country. I love having the freedoms that we enjoy, and I am thankful for all the people that died for that. As for fireworks, they seem like a pretty good way to celebrate all that we have.

Who Wouldn't Want To Be In The Sun?

Is it that time again? Time for another blog. My how the time flies by between blogs. Not in a good way. It's just work, work, work, laundry, dishes, sleep, work again. Maybe there is also some t.v. time or reading time thrown in there, but nothing to call home about. I know you are all jealous of my life. That was sarcasm if you couldn't tell, but maybe some people really are jealous. Jealous because they have screaming kids all the time or bad health or any number of demands on their time, strength, or money. I live a simple and happy life for the most part. The only thing that keeps it from being perfect, however, is the thought that things can always go from perfect to horrible in a split second. How ironic that the thought of losing perfection destroys perfection. That reminds me of a quote from a book I am reading called Beatrice and Virgil -

"Virgil says,"To my mind, faith is like being in the sun. When you are in the sun, can you avoid creating a shadow? Can you shake that area of darkness that clings to you, always shaped like you, as if constantly to remind you of yourself? You can't. This shadow is doubt. And it goes wherever you go as long as you stay in the sun. And who wouldn't want to be in the sun?"

We all want to 'be in the sun', meaning we want to have faith that we will have a happy life, or faith in a happiness after death if we suffer in life. But as long as we are in the sun there is always that shadow of doubt reminding you of your mortality and making you wonder,"Will this happiness last?"