Just a shower

This morning I sent the following text message to Jeff:

"Remind me to rant tonight about how we need a new showering routine for me."

It was followed by several fire breathing emoticons.

Unless I leap out of bed at 6:00 in the morning when Jude wakes up and comes to snuggle, and before Grahamykins is awake, it rarely ends up happening until after everyone's eaten brek, and Jeff is out the door on his way to his office.  Jude would probably be content to stay downstairs and watch tv while I cleansed, but I don't trust a) him alone with Graham, because he tends to lay down quite an axe for minor infractions like toy stealing, and b) Graham likes to climb onto the couch and lean over the arm to try to play with the back yard light switch, which resulted in a goose egg a few weeks ago. 


So they all have to come upstairs with me.  I shut the bedroom door, shut the closet door, shut the door to the toilet room so G won't try to splash (which he adores for some reason -- Jude never did so this is new to me), and I have child locks on the cabinets with cleaning supplies.  I set up Jude with the iPad and Graham with some toys.


This is what happened this morning while I took a 5 minute shower (and essentially what happens every single time they come with me):


I hop in the shower.
I can hear Graham yelling for joy and banging on the sliding closet doors (which he has knocked off its rollers plenty of times).
Jude yells, "No yelling, Graham!!!"  (eye roll)
Graham comes into the bathroom, turns on the bath water.
Jude follows 30 seconds behind, starts to squish a squealing Graham away from the faucet because he knows I don't want to waste water.  I say, "It's ok, Jude, I'd rather have the water on than you hurting him!"
After a few more nudges, Jude stops squishing (I get the sneaking suspicion it has nothing to do with my scolding, he is just bored of it and knows he'll have ample opportunities later for additional squishing/body slamming). 
I realize I left my face wash at the sink and dart out of the shower to grab it.  Water is spilt on the floor.
Graham starts wiping the water all around.
Jude pretends he's a dog and starts crawl-hopping all around, growl/biting at and chasing G who thinks it's a lovely game.
As they travel back toward the bedroom they come across a snag in the carpet and start to pull on it.
"STOP!!!!"  They only stop when they hear me turn the water off.
As soon as I step out of the shower they think it's about time I pick them up, so before I can even reach for my moisturizer I have 4 little hands tugging on my towel, my tangled hair is dripping all over them and the floor, I'm freezing, AND I keep thinking, "JUDE IS TOO OLD TO BE IN HERE!!!"  HMPHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As I go to pick out clothes they continue to find ways to destroy our room.  The internet wiring in the closet looks fun.  My tub of maternity clothes has a broken lid that is fun to open.  They found a cufflink on the floor.  Oh -- look at that!  The sock drawer!!

And all the while I'm fuming and thinking, "I'M JUST TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE!"

Now I have to go rant to Jeff about this.

The END

Downton Abbey, you blew it.

Or someone behind the scenes of that monstrous estate blew it.

Downton Abbey had joined the ranks of many audio visual programmes that had my heart.  Some others that had previously attained such status are:

Sense and Sensibility
Pride and Prejudice
Anne of Green Gables
While You Were Sleeping
The Office
Dan in Real Life
Singing in the Rain
The Sound of Music
Moonstruck
Gilmore Girls

Anyway, these shows have all winkled their way into VIP status, dripping with good memories (surely enhanced by the people I love who joined in watching these movies/shows with me).  As I've said before, I watched Downton Abbey during chronic Jude nursing times, watched them with my mom, watched them with Jeff, watched them alllll the time.  I loved it.  I loved the chemistry betwixt Matthew and Mary, Mary reminds me of my cousin Erin, kindnesses shown by and to Mr. Bates gave me warm fuzzies, Robert's squeamishness was funny and his close relationship with Cora was sweet.  I loved the 3 sisters thing, as I obviously also come from a family with 3 girls (now 4 with our amazing SIL Kacie).  And duh, it's a period piece series, and I'm a girl, so I was destined to love it.

Season 2 -- also good.  I didn't like the Branson/Sybil thing; he diminished her work as a nurse as "handing hot drinks to a bunch of randy officers" when she brought it up as a road block to them being together (RUDE).  I didn't like Robert's almost-affair with Jane.  I didn't like a few other things, but hey, nothing's perfect.

Then Season 3 crashed and burned, and someone poured horseradish and cubed bites of Spam all over it.  And then left it out in the Vegas summer sunshine for 3 days.  And now (sigh) I don't see how I can go on.

Ways that it ruined itself:

- The biggest reason, is the 2, possibly 3 major character deaths.  I read that Maggie Smith, the backbone of Downton humor, would not be returning for a 4th season.  That would be a pity but it would be easy to pull off -- she's no spring chicken and life expectancy was not incredibly long back in them days.  I could've let that loss go with an understanding heart.  But when Sybil, AND Matthew both want out of the series to pursue other roles, you don't kill them off and carry on with a crap show.  You END THE SERIES.  Downton Abbey, like the show LOST, was only expected to go a season or 2.  Then it became a smash hit, and so they kept going because, hey, aren't we all here to make money?  But without Matthew, Sybil, OR Lady Violet, the show just CAN NOT be any good.  You can't have them all move to America, you can't kill them, you just look at the glorious 3 seasons of critical acclaim and cash that came in hand over fist, and you say, "Hey, it's been a good run.  Let's call it a day."  END SERIES.  But I'm assuming the powers that be wanted to squeeze some more money out of Downton fans, and thus kept going.  Understandable in a way, but the minute Sybil died, a huge part of the show's lovability died too.  I sat with my jaw dropped all the way down to the floor when blood trickled from Matthew's non-functioning ear.  Horrible, horrible, horrible.  The show just could not recover from that.

Just to be a little more specific, as if Sybil desperately passing away as her loving family watched helplessly was not heart wrenching enough, hearing her newborn daughter cry from down the hall, that was "just beyond" (as a drunk Reese Witherspoon is known to say).  No more trio of sisters, a big hole was left.

And they decided killing new parents is awesome, because watching Matthew hold his new precious baby and then in his excited state drive recklessly to meet his doom -- i just can't even handle it.

"They" must have sensed the uproar this would cause, but decided the uproar and compromised path of the show was the better choice.  Why, I will never know.

I did read an article that talked about how Mary was getting boring as a happy housewife, which could be true, but it would be impossible to watch her as the widowed mother trying to find love again.  Nope, there will never be another besides Matthew.  They were MFEO.  If Mary was getting boring, again, END THE SERIES WHILE IT'S STILL GOOD.

- The new characters are obnoxious.  Especially the niece that is a bit of a trouble maker.

- Bates and Anna as a married couple were totally impossible to wrap my mind around and made me dry heave.

- Lady Edith -- come on, guys.  You were EXCESSIVELY cruel to her.  Being left at the altar?!?!?!  Then being loved by a MARRIED MAN????  You gave her not one muscle for her to hold her head up.  And I didn't even like her very much, but still felt that it was over-the-top-unkind.

- There were some responses to different issues that were in no way culturally accurate of the time.

- The general classiness of the show just started to deteriorate.  I felt like it was getting a little too close to Grey's Anatomy, even before all the death.

In sum, you lost me, Julian Fellows.  I'm sorry, but it's true.  And since Jeff would have only watched it at my urging, you lost him too.  Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it.  The Police and Jerry Seinfeld had it right -- stop while you're at the top of your game.

The End.

One last thing:

I forgot the crowning glory of that bad day in the ENT office.  After Jude's nap we went to the mall so I could finally get the shamefully overdue birthday gift for a nephew.  We got that crossed off the list, I loaded up Jude in the car, and as I was plugging Graham's car seat in, Jude nonchalantly blows chunks ALLLLLL over.  Jude has had the stomach flu twice, and both times he barely seems to care or notice as he projectile vomits so much stuff I don't know how it ever all fit into his body in the first place.

Jeff brought home Gatorade, after the boys went down I scrubbed out my entire car, and that was the end of that day.

This picture cracks me up.

Izze drink, sick us, and routines

So once Jude got his tummy coated in antibiotics he was back to his old tricks.  He has been such a love bug this week.  Please enjoy photos taken of him experiencing his first Izze drink tonight.

Back to the health issue: the only thing is, Jeff and I have been sick as dogs since last weekend.  I have a doctor's appointment for this week, and I thought what I have is probably viral anyway, but since the gunk in my chest is actually making it hard to breathe and Jeff came home from the doc's today with antibiotics, I have resigned myself to seeing a professional tomorrow.  I have been reading up on antibiotics during pregnancy and apparently I will most likely have some options.

However, it is because of this illness that I can't sleep, and am here blogging away at 2:51 in the morning.  

Christmas is over, and the only thing that has gotten me through that fact is nesting for this baby boy.  I am so excited to get him here safe and sound, see his little face, pick a name, etc.  I can't remember what life was like before pregnancy.  I regret taking for granted every time I lifted Jude before I had a bulge in my mid-section.  Last time, 2 months after Jude was born I couldn't remember what it was like to be pregnant.  I told my friend and her mother-in-law this one Sabbath while we waited for Sunday School to start, and mother-in-law said, "That's how Heavenly Father gets us to have more babies."  It's got to be true!  

However, I would just like to say that an extraordinary thing has happened.  I'm not wishing away these last 4 weeks of pregnancy.  YES EVEN!  I am looking at my To-Do list, and I need these remaining weeks.  During our Christmas holiday I went to Kneaders/Heaven with some cousins one night, and Kate asked me, "Isn't your heart just breaking for Jude?  Your one on one is coming to an end!"  I instantly said, "No!  I'm giving him a buddy -- that's like the best gift I could give him!"  It's true, and it feels like time to have our family expand.  I don't know how else to say it.  

But then, a few days ago I looked at Jude as we were bopping around and I realized this has been all he's known of life, and this has been such a great ride and bond we've had, just we two.  Bringing home a brother for him will change that forever.  I don't know how much and how hard it'll be on him, but it won't be the same, and it'll take strategizing and extra effort to make one-on-one happen.  So I don't know if my heart is quite breaking for the end of this era, but I want to make sure I soaked up each moment I could while it was there.

Also, our routine is about to be flipped upside down a little bit.  For a long time it's been:

Jude wakes up around 7.  One of us gets him and usually brings him back into bed with us for anywhere from 4 seconds to 2 minutes.  He's usually very anxious to get breakfast going.  I take him downstairs while Jeff starts getting ready for work.  Jude eats, and then shares some of Jeff's smoothie with him (no matter what Jude's breakfast has been) before family prayer and waving goodbye to Dad from the doorway as he leaves for the office.

Jude and I go to the gym, which is perfect for both of us.  He runs around getting out some of his limitless wiggles, plays with other kids, and toys that I didn't have to buy for about 50 minutes.  I get to watch the news or Kelly and Michael (or whatever Regis' replacement is named) and exercise.  Since we haven't had cable in a couple of years, TV watching at the gym has revealed something to me: a huge chunk of the ads shown during the 9-10:00 morning hour are targeting seniors.  Mesothelioma law suit commercials, retirement commercials, investing in gold or silver late in the game commercials, etc.  

After the gym we go home and get ready, and while I shower Jude takes it upon himself to terrorize our  poor bedroom and bathroom.  He pulls a lot of shoes out, and brings them to me to put on.  He turns on and off the bath water.  He tries to break into the baby proofed cupboards and drawers.  He tries to reach for the toothpaste on the counter and sometimes gets it, which means I have to make a wet, premature exit and get it back from him before he squirts a glob into his mouth or onto his hands.  This whole thing drives me crazy.  I don't know what else to do with him though; we don't have a TV in our bedroom to distract, and that distraction wouldn't last at this age anyway. I don't want to put him in his crib because that would be added motivation for him to learn to climb out, and/or I don't want his crib to feel like a punishment.  One thing that's really sweet, when I'm all done showering he brings me towel after towel off the hooks with this proud look on his face.  Anyway, an alternative showering MO is something I'm trying to find.

Then the rest of the morning and early afternoon are filled with errands, parks (often more than one a day), books, a play date a few times a week, lunch, and then it's nap time.

Nap time is almost always 90 minutes on the button.  As tired as I've been, I almost never nap because I need Merzy Time.

The afternoon is the witching hour and he's usually cranky.  Why?  I don't know.  It seems to be a common issue -- I just can't believe no one ever told me about it before I had Jude.  It's a bust, but we try to cure the funk with more park time and/or a show, and somewhere in there I try to make dinner. Very little of this happens before he's on my hip or crying and feeling hurt when I put him down because I must have both hands for whatever step of cooking I'm taking.  He loves to watch me cook and be involved in any way he can, which can be the cutest thing on earth or dangerous.

If Jeff makes it home before 7, they rough house and play, and then it's bedtime.  He's very big on this part being fulfilled in its entirety.  We brush teeth (the only part he's not always in love with), read The Going to Bed Book, some of The Book of Mormon (kids' version), family prayer, and then he gets some lullabyes all snuggled up. He must be clutching me (or Jeff) and his monkey, covered in a blanket. When I come to the last lines of a song he'll tighten his grip on me as if to say, "I'm not done here, so let's get another melody going fast."  Then we trade kisses and I put him in his crib.

I crash on the couch.  Jeff will bring up no fewer than 5 times how great Jude is.  

And that is the 2012-early 2013 Mom & Jude Routine.  

Who knows what it'll be in 5 weeks ;).

Last Day of my 20s

In an hour and 19 minutes, my 20s are no more.  I thought I would feel weird about this, but no, it feels like time.

I'd just like to record here and now that I am satisfied with the decade that is marching its way out the door.  A lot of it was filled with college, a mission, travel, dating, introspection, figuring out what to do with my life, wishing a heavenly host would come down from the sky to tell me what to do,  etc. etc. etc.  There was angst, there was sorrow, there was joy, there were nostril-flared laughing spells, see what I'm saying?  It's about what I think it should be.  And I was very lucky to fall in love with the right guy about 70% of the way through my 20s, and because of that I have good reason to be excited about what's going happen in my 30s (and 40s, 50s, etc.).  I'm sure there will also be bouts of sorrow, and joy, and nostril-flared laughing spells, but a healthy and loving companionship enhances all the good and makes the bad easier to swallow.

I'd also like to record I spent a good chunk of the last day of my 20s at your favorite place and mine, 

Hours of my life (and Jude's), but I thought I'd better get my license renewed.  It's just one of the many lessons of responsibility that were solidified in my brain during my 20s.  

Survival of the DMV with a wild man was made possible by stroller straps and buckle, lots of food, my iPhone and a miracle.  Jude took some artistic photos of the glory that surrounded us.

And here I am with one of my all-time favorite products of my 20s.  

Welcome, 30, welcome.

Friday Night

* we are watching midnight in Paris AGAIN. It might be one of my all time favorites.
* Instagram is my new favorite thing. So much more positive than Facebook and 100% pictures of things my friends are up to. I'm staying faaaar, far away from Facebook. This is mainly because the political rants are driving me up the wall.
* Last Sunday we were sitting in church minding our own biz and Jude was standing on the bench making eyes at our friends sitting behind us, and then without warning, "Bleeeeereccchhchhxjchchjxhh". Jude regurgitated more than I ever knew he could fit into his tummy. Poor baby, poor callisters who also got barfed on, poor church pew. Then Jeff and I got the stomach flu Monday. I cannot even begin to say how worthless I am when I have the stomach flu. It turns me into a depressed banshee. It was actually sort of sweet in the end, though, the 3 of us flopped on the couch, and floor, guzzling Gatorade, Jude took extra naps snuggled with his dad, when he was up we let him play with my phone to keep him happy while we were heaving, and when we felt better we had French toast and watched the debate. Jeff gets a high 5 and a pat on the bum for reminding me about life's blessings while I was wishing I were dead on the bathroom floor :).
* anyway tonight we rented a carpet cleaner and shampooed the pew at the church so that the fine folk sitting on it in church Sunday don't have to wonder what that smell is....
And we had a grand old time so we shampooed our carpet at home. Don't be jealous, your time will come to shampoo your Friday night away.
* happy anniversary to us on Monday!

Bullets

• I remember reading an Albert Schweitzer quote once, "Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory."  I am actually lucky to have good health so Albert, I'm half way there.  Except for a few pockets of life when I was getting the stomach flu all the time, my immune system could beat up your immune system.  Then last night while sitting in the family room chatting up my siblings that are home for Christmas, I could feel the aches coming on.  5 minutes after they left I was bundled up on the couch with a blanket pulled up to my chin, shivering.  The flu whacked me on the head and it's still throbbing.  I never appreciate how healthy I am until I'm not.  Just for added fun, Jude got a skin infection called Folliculitis.  Please don't google image-es it, it's gross and Jude's version is not that bad.  But he is on a couple of antibiotics and for this Jeff and I are sad.  Jeff is starting to feel poorly (because how could he escape at this point?), so maybe DayQuil will be seeing us through this Christmas.
• This is why Newt would not get my vote:

Just as Huckabee, look-alike of devious President Logan on 24, did not make the cut, Newt/Mr. Henry F. Potter, "the richest, meanest man in the county" will not either.  Am I the only one seeing this resemblance?

• My mom's Christmas Caramels are legend.  Everyone wants them, no one can make them successfully except her.  Once Jeff and I even made them WITH her standing right there, and they were a crap batch.  Tonight I had her over to really show me how it's done.  To guide me and my silicone scraper, give me all her tricks and bounties of caramel knowledge.  I still don't know how to do it.  Like the English language, there was no consistency with the rules.  The varying temperature, the whisking, the dripping of the cream/condensed milk blend, it's all coded into her wrist and doesn't translate.
• I'm so out of the music scene I didn't even listen to one second of a new Coldplay song until a few days ago.  I used to be so obsessed with them I could tell you how many days remained until their next album released.  I pre-ordered X&Y and waited up until midnight to begin the download.  My how things have changed.
• Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!

Dustbuster

This morning I was talking to my dad on the phone and noticed a big black spider nestled in one of the TV cabinet crevices.  Sometimes I don't mind a spider in the house because, assuming it's not lazy, it will eat a more meddlesome bug.  But this one had a big, juicy body and those are freaky.  I thought to myself it must be done away with when I was off the phone.

When that happened, I returned to the spider spot but it had fled.

A few minutes later, Jude was taking interest in the nothing-spot to the left of the fireplace.  I whipped myself over and YES -- the spider had migrated.  I gasped, slid Jude out of the way (the nice thing about soft cotton pants on wood floors), grabbed the dustbuster, aimed, and ignited.  When I looked, the spider was gone.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I headed for the side door to empty the dustbuster into the garbage bins waiting for pick-up, when I glanced at the nose of the dustbuster.  There sat the angry spider an arm's length away.

Shrieking, I did the only appropriate thing and chucked the dustbuster onto the driveway.

The End.

Driver Gripes

I am not a perfect driver. Take that statement as far or near as you want to.

But just on the off-chance that some of the people who are really smokin my patience read this blog (of late: you Silver 4-Runner and Black BMW, CA plates), I will now give some tips the DMV driver could be proud of:

1. I do NOT love it when all ye who are making right hand turns in the midst of a nice, long stretch of road just stay in it and slow down to what I would like to call a near-complete stop, and then while completely in the lane, make your turn. Please, get you and your bumper over into the broken bike lane; just because YOU need to pull into the Vons shopping center, it should not mean the rest of us need to lose all our momentum.

Ooh I feel better already. Continuing on....

2. All ye who are turning and ahead of you a yielding car awaits your passing: If you're going to turn away before you get to me, USE that blinker -- you paid for its faculties! Then the yielder (ME) won't sit and wait for naught. What if the last drizzles of my diet coke buzz were quickly evaporating and I needed to get to the nearest soda fountain, STAT??

3. This last one applies to those who frequent the Main/Jamboree 405 Freeway entrance: READ the sign. 2 cars are allowed to peel out from each of the 3 lanes PER green light. 2. 2. I know -- CA does have its moments of generosity! Imagine! But really, there's a reason that entrance is so backed up. READ the sign. Please.

Can you tell it's Friday tomorrow?

Whew.

Something to Miss:

Living in Huntington Beach

Irvine just feels so far away.

Something NOT to miss:

Working at Veg Prep for BYU Catering. I worked from 6am to 10am and then smelled like mayonnaise all day. No wonder I graduated a spinster.

I want this outfit.

I want some other things too. I want a job that pays what I used to make with weekends off, I want an apartment in HB again, I want America to pick someone that doesn't grind my nerves on American Idol, I want to eat chocolate and not get fat, I want a phone that works and doesn't send people straight to voicemail when they call (preferably an iPhone?), I want to have all my family close by, I want a bookshelf so I can put my books on it and not in an ugly olive green rubber bin from Target clearance circa 2004, and I want world peace.

There. Done. I want a lot of things. I shouldn't be blogging when I'm sick and foggy and grumpy. I really do dig my life. I'm just feeling in a bit of a funk today -- it's my funk and I'll relish in it till the very end, or whenever the NyQuil kicks in.

Good News/Bad News

Good news: When you go out of town for a weekend and don't spend any of your time by a computer, you get back to work on Monday and your Google Reader has 91 articles for you to read. I felt like it was Thanksgiving dinner!

Bad News: Due to the piglet flu, my cruise is officially re-routed for Oregon, Washington, and Canada. I checked the weather averages for May in the 3 stops: 60 degrees. It's ok, I'm happy to trade in my swim suit for a scarf, but I'm thinking the contest for "Most Times Down the Water Slide in a Single Afternoon" will be greeted less enthusiastically.

Those cute little piglets are threatening my cruise.

Do you want to know what you can do to make yourself feel AWESOME??

Ok. Go to a party on a Friday night, and then find out that a girl you babysat when she was 3 years old is also there as a guest. It's totally amazing.

I was going to go over say hi, hear about her Freshman year of college, but then I realized the last time we had a chat of such length and enthusiasm I was changing her diaper. Nice.

this might just show how selfish my life is, but something has been really stressing me out, and if you read on, you'll find out what.

i'm going on a cruise in less than 6 weeks. i've never been on a cruise before, but what they tell me is we're going to glide along the mexican riviera, basking in the UVs for 7 days and 7 nights. the problem just comes in at the part where i'm in my bathing suit probably all day (again, what "they" tell me), for the duration of that time.  oh the exposure of it all.  gasp. wheeze. cough. choke. when we bought the tickets it was in a moment of, "shall we do it???? we have 2.4 seconds to decide!!!!! ok!!! yeah!!!!" and i think deep down i imagined may 17th would never come. it was just a moment when i could be spontaneous or safe, and i chose spontaneity (pat pat on the back) but then didn't have to do anything but pay some money.  the rest lay in a horizon too distant to contemplate.

if you read my blog you probably correctly assume it's so entitled because of a great affinity for turtlenecks that would be mine.  i have strong opinions about my garb, and the consistency lies in the covering up of my mortal casing. i think it just looks better. it feels better. i love tights, coats, sweaters, pants, closed toed shoes, etc. i love going to the beach, the pool, the JACUZI (oh how i love the jacuzi!) but after an hour or so I can't wait to be swaddled in some heavy duty clothing.  exposure = bad.  

don't think me ungrateful or unenthusiastic. TRUST me, i am thrilled about the cruise group, the passport stamp, the free room service, the time off work, the snuggle time, etc., i just keep coming back to the scantily cladiness of it all.  i have looked on line for bathing suits probably twice a day for the last month, stopped into any store i'm able.  bathing suit shopping has got to be the most demoralizing activity known to femme fatale humanity, and on so many miserable levels.  and after all this, i've only found 1 that seems to be suitable. i bought another but returned it because i felt sure it would change everything i stand for as a human being ;).  so i can't spend any more time looking for a bathing suit, because i finally realized i'm not even earnestly seeking.  i just want cruise attire to suddenly be my wide leg jeans and black and grey striped turtleneck.  holding out for a miracle? i decided instead i'm going to stock up on some of these beauties:

a cuter compromise i've never seen.

No Fair

1. Last Monday as I was exiting my parked car in the employee section of the South Coast Plaza garage, a then-secretly demonic Chloe employee zoomed into a U-turn to park on my left (I was parked at the end of the row), and swiped my open car door (which she didn't have time to see, what with her speedy mcspeeding and all).  Notice the ugly pouty lip on my once-upon-a-time cute-ish Scion xA driver's side door.  I filed a claim, she LIED a RIDICULOUS LIE to the insurance company, and (sssshocking!) her insurance company isn't accepting liability.  Oh, Miss Evil Chloe girl, we are so not through here.  When the insurance guy called to report, it felt like when someone stole $7 out of my wallet in jr. high.  Sort of like, "Hey, I don't do that to anyone else, what makes you think you can do it to me???"  I'm not one of those people that goes around saying, "The world has gone to pot!" but her cheap lie (she said that I hit her car with my door while opening it. ????) made me dishearteningly disappointed in humanity.  Shake it off, Merzy, shake it off.

2. About 10 of my friends are going to Europe tomorrow with airfare and board they purchased at a screamin rate.  (So maybe that's completely fair, I'm just insanely jealous.)

3. Despite his blood-curdling performance tonight, Adam Lambert will probably still be in the running tomorrow on American Idol.

4. This little muffin niece of mine is pulling full on belly laughs, and she lives too far away for me to hear them in person.  It's such a cheap shot for Elizabeth to email pictures like these.  Sheesh.  FINE, I will come and visit as soon as I am able!!  You got me!

Sometimes a little bit of venting on a blog really does feel better.

kind of depressing.

i'll probably never have my own room again.  unless my trust fund kicks in early, or rent in california stops being around $700 for your own sector, or unless i move to some cheapy mccheaper state like utah or south dakota.  i love my roommate, she's, as we'd say at irvine high school, "the coolness," but i miss having mine own room.  

if mrs. jennings were here she'd offer me olives for my misfortune.

Deep, elongated, almost hissing exhale

roses are red,

violets are blue,

i hope the economy gets better,

or i'm moving to monaco like i planned when i was 13.

It all started with a wish to be more heart and lung healthy,

so I went to do a little of this:

and then the Huntington Beach skies dropped a little and then a lot of this:

and so I came home like this:

And I discovered a hole in a most inopportune location on my 11 year old running shorts.

you know you're obsessed with blogging when:

because i'm paranoid that i'll lose my spanish, often i'll translate in my head sentences that i say, are said to me, or things i think. or movie lines.

i realized yesterday that somewhere along the lines, out of deep necessity due to frequent use, i invented a verb, and have conjugations in all tenses.

blogar: to blog

yo - blogo
tu - blogas
el/ella/usted - bloga

nosotros - blogamos

ellos/ellas/ustedes - blogan

preterit

yo - blogue

tu - blogaste

el/ella/usted - blogo

nosotros - blogamos

ellos/ellas/ustedes - blogaron

imperfect

yo - blogaba

tu - blogabas

el/ella/usted - blogaba

nosotros - blogabamos

ellos/ellas/ustedes - blogaban

and so forth. of course these could already exist in the espanish version of google. but the point is when i realized i talk about blogs and the act of blogging enough to merit my own creation in my other language, i didn't know which adjective was more appropriate: pathetic or passionate?

and a lovely monday to you!