I am pretty proud of myself for keeping up this blog for three months now. Yay me! Just a little pep talk to get myself going.
Whenever I have a extra money you can almost certainly bet I will spend it on one of my two addictions - clothes or food. These two addictions really go together badly because if you buy too much food you get too fat for your clothes, and if you buy too many clothes you starve to death. Ok, so obviously I have never wanted for food. Food always wins over clothes if I am hungry, so I have to make sure I am not hungry when I go clothes shopping. With my love of food, it is a wonder I am not extremely overweight. Just wait until I have a baby. Just wait.... If you can't tell, I am not looking forward to the weight gain from that because I have heard so many horror stories about how hard it is to loose weight after having a baby. I am also not one of those types who "loves to exercise because it makes me feel so good!" Personally, I feel like crap 9 times out of ten after I exercise. I'm sore and sweaty and tired. Who wants that? Not me. Especially the sweat part because I find it cumbersome to take more than one shower a day.
One day, when Mike and I are rich, we will travel the country or even the world in search of the best food out there. That is one of our dreams, and I am not giving it up because at this very moment, I am hungry.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Living On the Edge
In spite of being insanely tired from long hours at work, I risk personal injury and sanity to bring you this post. Appreciate it.
There may be a great many things in this world that I am somewhat good at. Mechanics is not one of them. The only reason my car has survived the four years I have had it is because I have a dad who is incredibly good at mechanics and who scolds me severely every time I forget to do something for my car. It goes something like this -
Me: "My car needs an oil change. I think it has been about 50,000 miles since the last one."
Dad: "What! You need to change your oil every 5,000 miles or blah blah blah flabbity jabbity your car will explode!"
Ok, so this is not exactly what his says, but it is what I hear because when he starts to talk "car speak" I have no idea what he is talking about. So I tune him out until he gets to the part about all the bad things that can happen to my car.
Car blowing up - Paranoia 367
Listening to my dad talk about cars for hours - Paranoia 368
You would think since I have a schedule for cleaning my bathroom, doing laundry, and vacuuming, that I would have a similar schedule for car maintenance since my life literally depends on it. Nope. Once in a great while I remember to check the tire pressure or the wiper fluid. That's about all. Half the time I even forget to put gas in it until the gas light comes on. I figure as long as it is not making any strange noises I am good to go. What can I say? I like to live on the edge.
There may be a great many things in this world that I am somewhat good at. Mechanics is not one of them. The only reason my car has survived the four years I have had it is because I have a dad who is incredibly good at mechanics and who scolds me severely every time I forget to do something for my car. It goes something like this -
Me: "My car needs an oil change. I think it has been about 50,000 miles since the last one."
Dad: "What! You need to change your oil every 5,000 miles or blah blah blah flabbity jabbity your car will explode!"
Ok, so this is not exactly what his says, but it is what I hear because when he starts to talk "car speak" I have no idea what he is talking about. So I tune him out until he gets to the part about all the bad things that can happen to my car.
Car blowing up - Paranoia 367
Listening to my dad talk about cars for hours - Paranoia 368
You would think since I have a schedule for cleaning my bathroom, doing laundry, and vacuuming, that I would have a similar schedule for car maintenance since my life literally depends on it. Nope. Once in a great while I remember to check the tire pressure or the wiper fluid. That's about all. Half the time I even forget to put gas in it until the gas light comes on. I figure as long as it is not making any strange noises I am good to go. What can I say? I like to live on the edge.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
For the Love of Reading
I sometimes wonder why God made me love reading so much, yet I am quite possibly the world's slowest reader. That is like saying, "You will have the ability to fly, but you will have to land every five feet." You just don't get the full enjoyment out of it. Mike likes to tease me that I have been reading Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy for over a year, but that is TOTALLY NOT TRUE. That book is almost 1000 pages of teeny tiny font. I have to take a few month-long breaks here and there, which really just perpetuates the problem of being a slow reader.
Come to think of it, it may not be entirely God's fault that I am a slow reader. You see, I have these small perfectionist tendencies such as making sure I do not miss ANY information while reading. My brain seems to think that the world will come to a horrible and fiery end if I miss a single detail of what I am reading. I now blame the school system for making me a slow reader because of the many hours spent reading things that I would have to remember for tests. Damn you education.
Our love of reading is something Mike and I have in common, but it almost doesn't matter because we have such completely different tastes in books. He likes to read what he refers to as "fluff", a.k.a. science fiction and fantasy. I, on the other hand, prefer to read the classics or anything that will enlighten me about life, but will also try books like Harry Potter just for fun. It has been decided that I don't read much "fluff" because I lack a strong imagination. But I disagree. I can easily imagine myself reading a sci-fi book and not liking it at all.
This post would not be complete without wishing Mike's son, Daylen, a happy birthday. He is 18-years-old today. Old enough to join the military, but not yet old enough to drink alcohol. That would be too dangerous.
Come to think of it, it may not be entirely God's fault that I am a slow reader. You see, I have these small perfectionist tendencies such as making sure I do not miss ANY information while reading. My brain seems to think that the world will come to a horrible and fiery end if I miss a single detail of what I am reading. I now blame the school system for making me a slow reader because of the many hours spent reading things that I would have to remember for tests. Damn you education.
Our love of reading is something Mike and I have in common, but it almost doesn't matter because we have such completely different tastes in books. He likes to read what he refers to as "fluff", a.k.a. science fiction and fantasy. I, on the other hand, prefer to read the classics or anything that will enlighten me about life, but will also try books like Harry Potter just for fun. It has been decided that I don't read much "fluff" because I lack a strong imagination. But I disagree. I can easily imagine myself reading a sci-fi book and not liking it at all.
This post would not be complete without wishing Mike's son, Daylen, a happy birthday. He is 18-years-old today. Old enough to join the military, but not yet old enough to drink alcohol. That would be too dangerous.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Let's Go Fly A Kite
It's a good thing I don't write this blog for a living because I already stress about what to write about. I feel an obligation to write every other day and if I can't think of something to write about I feel like a am slacking. Silly, I know. It's just that when I commit to something I don't want to do it half-assed. Why oh why did I have to start this blog? Oh I know, because I like to write. I just don't want it to turn into a burden of something I have to do verses something I want to do because only I would feel obligated to do something that I don't have to do.
On to the blog...
We have been having some windy weather were we live, and so Mike and I decided to go fly kites a few days ago. Well it turns out that Mike has this obsession with not flying a wimpy kite so he bought this -
Notice it is not in the air. That is because HE NEVER GOT IT TO FLY. That's right. The cheap little kite that my brother bought for half the price practically flew itself, but Mike's two-handled fancy shmancy kite never left the ground for more than a few seconds. Here is my 3-year-old nephew, Holden, showing how easy it is to fly a kite -
Here is Mike flying the self-flying kite that my brother got and wishing he bought the same thing. It's ok honey, I will let you borrow my $1 kite.
On to the blog...
We have been having some windy weather were we live, and so Mike and I decided to go fly kites a few days ago. Well it turns out that Mike has this obsession with not flying a wimpy kite so he bought this -
Notice it is not in the air. That is because HE NEVER GOT IT TO FLY. That's right. The cheap little kite that my brother bought for half the price practically flew itself, but Mike's two-handled fancy shmancy kite never left the ground for more than a few seconds. Here is my 3-year-old nephew, Holden, showing how easy it is to fly a kite -
Here is Mike flying the self-flying kite that my brother got and wishing he bought the same thing. It's ok honey, I will let you borrow my $1 kite.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunlight Paranoia
A couple of days ago I got my first sunburn of the year, not because I spent a huge amount of time in the sun, but because my skin has an aversion to the sunlight. Every time I go into the sun I hiss and cover my face and run for the darkness. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but what can you do? Sunscreen you say? That would be too obvious.
I clearly remember the worst sunburn of my life, and I never want to experience that again. I was 15, and thus naive enough to think it would be a good experience to go on a church pioneer trek. Oh boy was I wrong. Three days of being exclusively outside gave me a sunburn that PEELED UNTIL IT BLED. There was sunscreen available, which is more than the actual pioneers had, but I didn't use any because it was so windy the whole time that all of the dust would have stuck to my face and made me look like a sand monster. Another defense against the sun was my beautiful bonnet, because we had to not only act like pioneers, but dress like pioneers. No good. The wind also constantly blew my bonnet off so after a while I gave up putting it back on and just let it flap around my neck. Factor in walking non-stop for three days while pulling a handcart, sleeping on the ground with NO PILLOW, and the mysterious fat lip that I woke up with on the third day, and you can see why I enjoyed myself so much. I have to hand it to the pioneers....they were crazy.
I promised myself I would use sunscreen religiously this year and not get burned a single time. Well we all see how that turned out. Now I have to add skin cancer to my long list of paranoias. Believe me, that list DOESN'T NEED TO BE ANY LONGER. The only way I function in society is by forgetting all my paranoias for a period of time. Then something will happen to remind me of them and I feel like yelling, "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" At least I will die with a tan.
I clearly remember the worst sunburn of my life, and I never want to experience that again. I was 15, and thus naive enough to think it would be a good experience to go on a church pioneer trek. Oh boy was I wrong. Three days of being exclusively outside gave me a sunburn that PEELED UNTIL IT BLED. There was sunscreen available, which is more than the actual pioneers had, but I didn't use any because it was so windy the whole time that all of the dust would have stuck to my face and made me look like a sand monster. Another defense against the sun was my beautiful bonnet, because we had to not only act like pioneers, but dress like pioneers. No good. The wind also constantly blew my bonnet off so after a while I gave up putting it back on and just let it flap around my neck. Factor in walking non-stop for three days while pulling a handcart, sleeping on the ground with NO PILLOW, and the mysterious fat lip that I woke up with on the third day, and you can see why I enjoyed myself so much. I have to hand it to the pioneers....they were crazy.
I promised myself I would use sunscreen religiously this year and not get burned a single time. Well we all see how that turned out. Now I have to add skin cancer to my long list of paranoias. Believe me, that list DOESN'T NEED TO BE ANY LONGER. The only way I function in society is by forgetting all my paranoias for a period of time. Then something will happen to remind me of them and I feel like yelling, "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" At least I will die with a tan.
Friday, April 16, 2010
DENIED!
Is it just me or has credit gotten way out of control in America? Just saying. Why are we BILLIONS or even TRILLIONS of dollars in debt? (I lost count long ago.) The reason is, we need to buy EVERYTHING on credit. I don't mean necessities like toilet paper and milk. I mean designer handbags, electronics, jewelry, and clothes. MY GOD THE TONS AND TONS OF NEEDLESS CLOTHING! And what is it all for? To keep up with the Joneses. Everyone else is doing it. We are all like a bunch of spend-happy high-schoolers, yet the worst part is, WE NEVER GROW OUT OF IT. Americans seem to be unable to deny themselves anything. As long as they really want, they will find a way to get it, meaning credit.
I will admit that not everyone uses credit for excess. Some people have to use it just to get buy. We are a society based on money. Without money, you die. Think about it. If you didn't have any money, how would you get food, clothing, shelter? Grow it? Make it? Beg for it? Begging seems to be the only option since most people in America don't know how to grow food or build a house or sew clothing. So you are now begging and living off the generosity of other people. What if other people aren't feeling so generous?
Mike and I recently watched a show called Meet The Natives where members of a "primitive" island tribe came to America to find out what it is like here. While here, they met a homeless man. They commented about how no money in America means death. In their tribe, everyone works together for the good of the community, and if someone can't take care of themselves, everyone else helps to take care of that person. I wish we could be more like that in America. I'm not talking about communism, or social security, or welfare. I'm talking about just having more concern and compassion for our fellow men and women. Not just throwing money at them, but helping them with our own two hands. I know we can't completely rid our country of being money-based, but I think credit is something to use very sparingly. Until we realize that, I think we are in big trouble.
I will admit that not everyone uses credit for excess. Some people have to use it just to get buy. We are a society based on money. Without money, you die. Think about it. If you didn't have any money, how would you get food, clothing, shelter? Grow it? Make it? Beg for it? Begging seems to be the only option since most people in America don't know how to grow food or build a house or sew clothing. So you are now begging and living off the generosity of other people. What if other people aren't feeling so generous?
Mike and I recently watched a show called Meet The Natives where members of a "primitive" island tribe came to America to find out what it is like here. While here, they met a homeless man. They commented about how no money in America means death. In their tribe, everyone works together for the good of the community, and if someone can't take care of themselves, everyone else helps to take care of that person. I wish we could be more like that in America. I'm not talking about communism, or social security, or welfare. I'm talking about just having more concern and compassion for our fellow men and women. Not just throwing money at them, but helping them with our own two hands. I know we can't completely rid our country of being money-based, but I think credit is something to use very sparingly. Until we realize that, I think we are in big trouble.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
It's All About the Music
Can you possibly tell these two are related? If it wasn't for the different color hair, they could be the same kid. I had to put up these pictures of my brother and his his son at around the same age because I think it is so funny how the look of surprised bewilderment was inherited. In fact, my brother's son, Kyle, is practically a mini-version of my brother, Brian. I don't mean Kyle is the same as Brian was as a kid. I mean Kyle is a mini current-day Brian. I say this because Kyle has probably loved music since he was in the womb. Brian, on the other hand, never seemed to be into music much until high school. Well, now he loves music, and he has certainly passed it on to his son. I remember babysitting Kyle when he was about two or three and all he wanted to do THE ENTIRE TIME was watch a certain Red Hot Chili Pepper DVD that I have. THAT'S ALL. Did he want to play outside? No. Did he want to watch TV? No. Did he want to play video games? No. Did he want to play with toys? No. Did he want to do anything that a typical preschooler would want to do? No. He only wanted to watch music videos or listen to my I-pod. I am also informed that he falls asleep most nights while listening to music on headphones or on the speaker-pillow that his awesome aunt gave him.
Being a mini-Brian may have it's advantage in music knowledge, but it also has it's difficulties, like having to act tough. Kyle acts tough because he wants to be big and strong like his dad, but I know deep down he is a softy who loves to be cuddled. Don't worry Kyle, I won't tell your secret.
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