The lives of others

Sometimes I wish that nobody ever reads my blog.

Then I could talk about things I actually want to talk about: my dislikes.

But chances are that you participate in one of my dislikes and I worry about offending you - even though in my head I might be thinking that that giant flora on your head should be reserved for babies and Karo syrup.

I don't know.

Also, I like to write stories about people that I never want them to read. I want to observe them and record it for posterity. I am certainly no good at keeping a diary of my own life but I am watching you and just waiting for you to mess up so I can tell everyone.

But it's not as diabolic as it sounds. I don't do an evil laugh and it's not to make you feel like an idiot; I just want to share your funny moment with others, without you knowing.

And also, if you are wearing a new thing they call a "collar" just stop. Don't do it.

Stop reading this.

(Although now that I've said it you aren't going to. It's the equivalent of "don't look!" Blast.)

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

Heard in the car the other day:

Ricky: "You being pregnant is going to be horrible".

Thanks. Actually, I kind of felt relieved that he maybe got the fact that I might actually be horrible if I was pregnant and that would help him to not want kids yet.

And then today we talked about how we don't have a "married blog". We just don't. Neither of us care and frankly, we just have different styles - Mine is good.

We are two ships sailing in the night side by side, but not touching.

You can do it

We were watching an episode of "This American Life" where a father was waiting for his son to get home from Iraq. And he was waiting with his wife and all sorts of other families and friends waiting for their loved ones. And that's when it hit me.

Am I going to have to do this?

I have seen scenes like this over and over on TV full of tearful reunions and even more tears of reunions that will never be. But it never hit me until the other night that my future might be just like that.

Ricky signed up for the Air Force. A decision that he pondered long and hard over and one that we fought long and hard over as well. I didn't want to have anything to do with the military and especially if it involved my husband in it. In my mind it was something necessary for our country but I wanted it to be far away from me.

But in the end when he and then subsequently me, realized what his education was going to cost we decided that no, we did NOT want to "buy" a house that we would never see. It was just too overwhelming to imagine taking on that kind of debt if we could avoid it.

So he applied and he actually got it which was an honor really because they don't give out the Air Force scholarships like candy. And it hasn't really changed our lives except for the monthly deposit which is made into our banking account to help with expenses. He doesn't have to do anything until he graduates but then we give them 3 years of our life.

With the way things are going and how they will probably continue on like this for a while it is almost guaranteed he will go somewhere (even though everyone assures us the Air Force has it better than everyone else).

Am I going to be waiting for a bus one day holding balloons and a welcome home sign?

I don't want to.

I hear you

I've been sooooo busy. So busy that I tend to get lost in thought and not listen to anyone else. I realized this about 2 weeks ago when I was sitting on the couch next to Ricky who was telling me something pretty interesting involving some process in the human body and I had this moment where I just looked at him and saw his mouth moving but I had no idea what he was saying.

I had no idea what he was saying.

And then again today as we were walking into the apt after church he was saying something to me but it was like a movie where I'm inside my own head and everything else is silent.

I've just been thinking too much lately - and not about myself which is a bummer. I have A LOT of people to think about right now. A Lot of people with bigger problems than I have.

But I feel bad because I just haven't been listening.

So I pledge here to listen better to Ricky tell me all about the vomiting reflex. Or to you and your bad dog/day/job or stupid sister/brother and how they didn't buy you a present off your approved Christmas list.

And if you come and talk to me in person I promise to make you a treat and I'll even sweep the floor before you come over. Just wear your rain boots because you CANNOT believe how much it rains now.

Everyday. That's how much it rains.

Everyday.

If the Chemistry's correct

I was coming home from work yesterday and I decided to stop at the bakery to pick up a fresh walnut baguette to go with dinner.

After I bought my small baguette I left the bakery and walked to the street light and waited for my turn to cross. In the mean time another women left the bakery, grabbed her two dogs that were waiting outside and she joined me at the stop light.

And then she turned to me and said "are you a chemist?"

"Excuse me?" I asked not sure that I had heard her right.

"Are you a chemist?" she asked again.

"No, I am not" I replied, almost laughing.

"Have you taken any chemistry classes?" she asked.

"Um....yeah. In high school" I said with a chuckle.

"Oh, I guess that won't help me" she said. "I want to take a chemistry class and I don't know if I'm going to take the right one or if I can handle it or what".

"Yup, sorry. I cannot help you there".

And with that we both proceeded to cross the street and go our separate ways. Of all the things people on the street have said to me that was by far the most interesting. I guess I'm kind of flattered that she thought I might be a chemist. After all, I am very good at producing... reactions.

Blah

I got nothin.

Except for the fact that I have tomorrow off for Veteran's day. I love getting bank holidays.

Boo-yeah.

Hair today, Gone tomorrow

I was engrossed in typing something on the computer yesterday and suddenly my ears tuned back into reality and I heard The Cure playing. It just snuck up on me and I did NOT like it. I don't think The Cure is a good band for playing out of nowhere when you are not expecting it. It is the kind of thing you play conscientiously - at least I do. We should surprise the Taliban by blasting The Cure out of nowhere and maybe they will surrender like Noriega. But luckily a song of theirs did come on that I actually like and I cooked dinner to it.

I made lemonade people, lemonade.

I also don't like it when male pattern baldness sneaks up on me. Well, not really to me but to those around me. From where I am perched everyday at work I see people coming in and out of the office next door all day. LOT'S of people. Lot's of young males and a couple hot females (real estate, go figure). And my co-worker has a thing for one of the guys next door. And today when I saw him leave the office I saw it...

BAM! Maybe a little baldness. Or maybe it's too much hair gel forming un-normal separation? I'm torn. Do I tell her?

Pants

I did something weird the other day: I wore my husbands pants to the grocery store. I came home from work and went into the bedroom contemplating what I could change into to head out to the store. And then I saw them laying all unassuming on top of the duvet. They are the perfect shade of blue-ish grey denim. And I knew that I wanted to wear them. And even though I knew they were going to be too big I put them on anyways. Sure enough they were baggy on my derriere and legs, but at least they didn't slide off when I moved.

I examined myself in the mirror: front, side, back, side, front, back, side, front, side. "Not too bad" I thought to myself. People will think that I am just dressing a little Japan-ese. But just to make sure I slipped on a pair of black ballet flats to class it up a bit.

I was really excited to get home to see the husbands reaction when he discovered that I stole his pants. We carried in the groceries. I made dinner and walked around the house A LOT. We ate dinner together and then I blurted out "don't you notice anything different about me today?". Nope. He looked me up and down and still didn't get it. So I narrowed it down to my clothing. Still nothing.

Then he asked me if I peed my pants.

"No......but if I did YOU would be really mad".

Nothing.

So he starts to get frustrated and ask me if I did all number of things in my pants, which I did not, but always answered that he would be VERY upset if I had done any of those things in my pants.

It took forever until I finally had to stand up and show him the pants. Duh.

"They look like some of your other pants" he replied.

Come to think of it they do.

OH BOY!

Oberto.

If you had any doubts about visiting me I want you to know the factory outlet is 5 min away.

Me time

Tonight Ricky was gone learning how to monitor fetuses so I decided to have a little alone time. I started by enjoying a delicious dinner of Golden Grahams straight out of the box while shopping online. When I was done checking all my usual sites and planning how to peruse my favorite designer sale early enough to still make work on time I decided to entertain my senses with the latest episode of Gossip Girl. I was not disappointed - Vanessa, how could you? Serena, will anyone ever truly love you?

And after the show I looked at nails and they were truly in need of some attention. So I removed the old polish whilst perusing netflix until I found the perfect movie. And I found a classic I had never seen before that was begging to be watched while I painted: Tootsie. You know, the one where Dustin Hoffman dresses in drag to get an acting gig? It features a bunch of famous actors when they were young; Jessica Lange, Bill Murray, Geena Davis and Punky Brewster's Dad!. Has anyone ever actually watched Tootsie? What a perfect movie for watching by yourself while you paint your nails.

And even though the movie was good I found myself truly captivated by Stephen Bishop who wrote the theme song for Tootsie. I looked him up on youtube and decided that he's alright. And I think I have a thing for his songs now. I know, what? But here is one of my favorites that I would like to share with you.

It just makes me want to fire up the stove and start sauteing in my palazzo pants. Mmmm..delish. Enjoy. (Cause I did on repeat while I wrote this).

Traaaaaaaallllllaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I have to go to bed in 10 minutes because that's when I go to bed. And I can't think of this particular opera song that keeps going through my head. So instead I'm now listening to La Boheme because it's good too.

Every time I listen to opera I feel like I need to do something grandios, like people who are bi-polar. No offense. Plus, it reminds me of my dad and I like him too.

And I think I also really like La Boheme because that is the opera Nicholas Cage takes Cher to in Moonstruck which is a really great movie in my opinion. I mean, she has bad luck and he fixes it with his wooden hand.

Oh my, 6 minutes past my bedtime.

Nighty night.

Killer Boots Man

It's true!!!!!!

The fates were on my side this Columbus day as I shopped in honor of the man who shopped for a new world, and I found them.

Supple black leather. An oh so slight wedge heel. A buckle in the back for good measure and the perfect almond shaped toe.

Miracle!

A miracle indeed.

A miracle because it has been about 10 yrs since I found a knee high pair of boots that fit over my calves. And leather to boot (zing).

Not only do they fit over my muscular calves, but I can tuck my jeans into them. If this isn't the Columbus day miracle I've been praying for for years - then I don't know what is.

And so I'd like to thank Jessica Simpson for her string of unsuccessful and often publicly embarrassing relationships for helping her gain a little weight. A little weight that probably led her to tell the people who actually design her stuff to make a boot that would fit her new calves; and thus, mine.

I was SO happy after trying them on that I didn't yell at the lady with the shopping cart who ran over my real pair of shoes right in front of me. Serenity now. They were a bit pricey, but I don't care. I don't even feel bad....not one bit.

And the next day I was still thinking about them as I rode the train home. And as the train entered the Beacon Hill tunnel I was momentarily distracted when my brain switched to the song they play on Willy Wonka as they enter the tunnel. My train was slightly rocking and the train was picking up speed and the lights were flashing by...

Eat me out of house and home

How does one person spend so much on food? I can't believe it, and I'm not even buying gushers. If I bought a lot less food then I could buy more clothes and they would fit better. Unbelievable.

Although I am not good at finances I am good at making awesome things. In fact, just the other day I was heard exclaiming "oh for cutes sakes!" after making some awesome throw pillows. And I also discovered that mature women who work at the fabric store scare me a little. They wear aprons and joke about seam widths, crazy yardage and reupholstering their whole house. I went to buy some fabric and the lady told me I didn't seem very sure about the 2 yards I asked for. And she was right. I was SO busted. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't really sew. Seriously. And I don't iron. I can't sew straight and I tend to hit the gas a little too much while stitching which contributes to the uneven lines. I just don't do it. But ever since my new couch came into my life I need to marry it to the complete opposite color scheme side chairs that were given to us. Not an easy task. So I made pillows.

Sew (ha ha) in short I buy too many grains in bulk and I feel uncomfortable in fabric stores.

Oh...also, I somehow managed to iron adhesive all over the ironing board.

....Man

Couch potato

I start my first day of work tomorrow. I always get so anxious before my first day of work/school/meeting in-laws, etc. I just hate being the new person. Smiling and meeting people and figuring out which toilet stall you like best and where to eat your lunch. SO nerve wracking. At least they are taking me out to lunch, I like food. I can't talk about this anymore because it's making me more nervous.

WE GOT A COUCH!!!! Yeah, we did it. And it has a bed inside it just like I promised so everyone come and sleep on it. I LOVE house guests. Mi 1 bedroom apt es su 1 bedroom apt. And almost better than getting the couch was getting the box it came in. It is PERFECT! It gave me the best Halloween costume idea ever, seriously. You thought my Rosie the Riveter was good, you just wait. Ooooooooo, just wait. Rich wanted to throw the box out but I threatened and put my foot down. The box stays!

I get excited in general when it comes to big boxes. I still like to sit in them and hang-out. I remember walking past the back of the library at BYU one day and discovering a stash of HUGE refrigerator boxes left back there. Oh man, it was like Christmas! First I went home and grabbed a friend and then we straight back up to the boxes and we hid in the boxes and jumped out every once in a while scaring complete strangers. Beautiful. And then we took as many boxes as we could to Rock Canyon Park and tried sledding in the snow with them which was pretty unsuccessful - they act just like a plow, FYI.

I even considered putting all my blankets in the couch box and sleeping in it. But that would be a little much, right?

Almost there

Have you ever looked in the mirror and thought "I'm a babe"? That didn't happen to me today. But I did think "Hey, I could almost be a babe today if I tried just a little bit harder this morning" when I stared at myself in the mirror. And then I left it at that. Maybe I felt like being an "almost babe" today. But I did decide to paint my nails while watching the new Melrose Place which is putting forth some effort on my part. And I think the extra effort on my part to paint those nails is what set in motion a lady name Linda to call and phone screen me for a job. She must have sensed I was ready to work.

And after she called it went a little like this:

Linda:"did you get a chance to check out our website and see what we do?".

Me:"I did actually. I'll be honest Linda, I'm not sure exactly what you do but it looks like you ...blah blah.".

Linda:"Not exactly......actually we....".

Me:"Ok, right.".

And right then and there I thought I had lost it. But she wants to meet me anyways on Monday. And between the 2 of us she told me my phone number on my resume was wrong so I checked it and it is actually correct. So I guess the two of us are meant to be. I don't exactly know what they do and she is a little number dyslexic. This I can handle.

Don't you hate it when you have a great pair of dark denim jeans and the color bleeds? I'm scared to wear them with anything remotely light colored. And my hands are slightly blue from rubbing my hands on my thighs. They look really...cold.

Alright everybody, let's have golden beets and lentils for dinner, c'mon!

Floor

I used the oven 3 separate times today. Lunch: pizza. Dinner: minted oven roasted farmer's market carrots with curried apple couscous.

Dessert: chocolate chip zucchini cupcakes. And after about the second time I opened the oven door it finally kicked in that when I open the oven door I need to stand away for a second to avoid the wall of heat that comes charging out. Brutal. And I kept thinking "did I just kill a dolphin out there somewhere because I keep turning the oven off and on?". But the food was just so good that I didn't care. I do my part for the dolphins by buying dolphin safe tuna. I think that about covers it.

I was so excited to move into our place here that has bamboo flooring throughout. Finally! Chic and classy looking floors! No more industrial carpet! But then I lived in our house with wood floors for a couple of days. Not so glamorous anymore. They show everything. Dirt, dust, hair, it is all there on public display in little nests in the corners. I can't keep it clean. I CAN'T KEEP IT CLEAN!! Frustrating. And to be honest I miss the sound the vacuum makes when it sucks up dirt. It was so satisfying. And to top it off we have this after dinner ritual occasionally that has been ruined by our wood floors. When we stuff ourselves with something delicious we collapse on the floor to let our bellies rest and recover and the wood just isn't comfortable. That and I refuse to lay on it because of the aforementioned goods that congregate there. Exasperation! But I guess at least we can't get any carpet burns which is favorable.

Anyone have a miracle wood floor trapper of all things gross?

The best things in life are free

I finally felt the burden of it tonight. The BIG it - money. I've never had much of it. But I've almost always had enough to do what I please without incurring debt. But those days are over. Now I truly window shop but mostly through the internet because that way I can't touch it and try it on and see how nice it feels on my skin. And oddly enough I'm ok with that. Our closet is so full already that I wouldn't want to impose the misery of being stuffed in somewhere to a new piece. I've mostly had a problem with food. I like to buy good food, it seems to be my vice lately. So I've committed to going to the store less and eating what we have which is still pretty good. Fine, I can do that.

But the true stab in the heart was tonight while I was talking to my madre on the phone. She asked about the couch we had been planning on getting. Yeah, we can't really swing that right now I told her. I felt like it had taken a tiger claw to my nose and my eyes began to swell. I don't know why I had such a strong reaction to the couch. We could go out and buy one with a little help from our money market but we aren't stupid. It isn't worth it right now. You know, living with a love seat and two chairs isn't soo bad. You just have to decide if watching a movie with your mate by your side is worth it. And if you curl up in a ball and leave either your feet or head hanging over the edge it is pretty comfy.

It's not the couch or the money really that bothers me - ok, yes it is. We live on a fixed income, like old people. Which I can't complain about because the Air-force pays for our living and we don't do anything, yet. But have you ever woken up in the morning and the pair of jeans you wore the day before is suddenly tighter and you don't know how it happened? Its only been 8 hours! Did I eat that much last night? Only you know you've really been eating that much for a while and it finally caught up to you. It's like that.

It's finally caught up to me. Blurg.

A love letter

Dear Ricky,

It seems like my brain is swelling to capacity lately. I have so much to do and so little time and all without the help of a job. Are you in school right now? Are you looking at pictures of things oozing out of people right now? Are you typing on your computer thinking of me too?

I'm sitting at the kitchen table right now and staring out the window at the courtyard. The sun is shinning and casting a lovely golden glow on the trees and the sidewalk down below. It almost makes me forget about the building out back. I think we are getting some new neighbors. Either that or there is a man that keeps walking back and forth in front of our window with boxes and drawers for fun. Maybe he's just serious about exercise and likes to take the stairs a lot. Whatever the case I'm just glad the building is beginning to fill.

I think I'll make vegetarian chile tonight. Remember the last time we ate it? It was SO hot in Arizona but we cranked up the AC and enjoyed it anyways. It was so good we just kept smacking our lips and murmuring sounds of delight. We might not sweat as much this time around but I expect to hear contented sounds none the less.

The clock just turned 4:22pm. Only 38 more minutes until you get in your car and drive the 20 minutes home on Rainier Ave dodging the bus that blocks the right lane. Be careful when you come home, wear your seat-belt!

Can't wait to see you love, I made you peanut butter cookies with whole-wheat pastry flour for your heart.

Love mua

2 for 2

Sometimes it's great when you go 2 for 2 in your season opener. The euphoria can bring fans and players alike together in a frenzy of good cheer. But our season opener didn't go that well. We went 2 for 2 for alright. 2 for 2 in the unlucky car hall of fame.

Exhibit A: Let's put aside the fact that Ricky's car groans and vibrates likes it's relaxing on a massage chair whenever you start it up and head straight to the first win. Yesterday while driving away from the airport after dropping off our darling daughter Stasy Ricky side-swiped a Subaru while changing lanes. 1-0.

Exhibit B: Now let's put aside the fact that my car is peeling apart like sunburned flesh and makes terrible metal on metal grinding noises whenever I accelerate and concentrate on our second victory. Today while spontaneously attending my favorite grocery store, Trader Joes, I locked the keys in my car with the radio running. Awesome. So I bought some groceries while I called Ricky over and over until he got out of class and answered. 40 minutes later and a picnic lunch in a parking garage consisting of pita chips, hummus and chocolate milk

I was let into my car by a nice kid in a UW hat. That makes a 2 for 2 sweep of the September car season! We are definitely in the lead and it looks like we might make it undefeated.

Also my cashier at TJ's told me I looked "very professional". To which I said thanks of course, then told him in no uncertain terms that I was NOT in professional clothing. I was wearing a t-shirt, sweater and jeans. Where is he from?

And to top it all off the joke that I tell everyone about why i bought a reusable shopping bag came true. I kept telling everyone that I had to buy one because I didn't want anyone to punch me for using regular bags like regular people. And on my way back to my radio emitting car I was in the elevator with an old man and his reusable TJ's grocery back and he looked at my regular paper bags and made an audible sigh and said "no reusable bags, huh?". "No. I didn't know I was coming here" stupid old man who drove off in his bio-diesel VW.

And now Rich is going over our expenditures...

Desperately seeking paycheck, Laquina

Where do I begin?

After a great long weekend with the bf Stasy I wanted nothing more than to sit and stare at my computer looking at sample sales and perusing cooking sites whilst checking my email. And while I was romancing all this technology I was sampling and sampling all the various flavors of salt water taffy we picked up on the waterfront today. Mmmmm...pumpkin, banana, eggnog, rootbeer.

And then my email delivered this: blah, blah, blah "At this time, we are moving forward with other candidates who are a closer match with the skills and requirements of the position. " blah blah blah, you suck.

And then I read it word for word to Ricky and then shrugged my shoulders. He said I seemed "pretty happy" in his words and this confused him. "What do you want me to do?" I questioned. " There isn't anything I can really do about it" I finished. Should I cry? Wail and nash my teeth and pound the floor? They didn't want me and because of that I didn't want them.

And by the time I realized it the coffee table looked like this:

The picture is dark because I was too lazy to turn another light on even though I got up to grab my phone to take the picture. Do you think the interviewer figured that out about me and that is why I didn't get the job?

My computer keeps beeping at me now with all the emails Ricky is flooding me with for potential jobs. Doesn't he look dreamy when he job hunts for me?

Hillshire Farms, go meat! - NOT

We were eating dinner (quinoa, go figure) the other night and talking about getting each other surprises. I like to come home and surprise Ricky sometimes with little things I picked up here or there that I think he would like. Case in point: last week I came home from the Great Wall Market with a mango bubble tea for my man. He LOVES bubble tea and he gulped/chewed it down faster than you can say Epiglottal failure. And he likes to surprise me with things that I've picked out. It works for us.

And after our delicious and nutritious meal of quinoa inspired by this recipe from 101cookbooks he surprised me and made my life by uttering this simple phrase, "I never want to eat meat again!". No finer words were ever heard by my ears. "ah!" I gasped. "See? Now you have given me the best surprise ever and I didn't even pick it out!".

I'm not against eating meat, eat it to your hearts content. I'm not even a vegetarian, although I was for a couple of years in high school. I just don't really like meat. I don't like the taste or the texture or the idea. I don't believe that you really need it and you can have a balanced and healthy diet without it. In fact, the only type of meat I actually really like is ground beef and ground turkey. Other than that, thanks but no thanks.

Ricky still likes meat and he will eat it other places - like last night at the Italian place around the corner we had italian sausage on our slices and it was delectable. But I have made such delicious food with grains and veggies that we have no need for it in our house.

Sometimes the simplest things are the best. Come over, I'll prove it.

Yes, this is she

Have you ever just felt like crying because you were so overwhelmed with pressure, stress, nervousness, anger, anything? Sometimes I just get so full of.....of... everything that the only thing that I can manage are some watery eyes. And my throat is soo dry. I just can't get enough liquid to satiate my aching throat. Why is there an abundance of water in my eyes and none in my mouth where it is supposed to be.

I just had a phone interview which is almost worse than meeting with someone in person. You have to impress them with your voice and how sing-songy you can make yourself sound while you try to act casually about how you are a good a something you've never actually done. And I have this problem with becoming monotone when I'm nervous. And I was just so thirsty. I had a water bottle next to me that I kept taking silent gulps from to help ward off the monotone-ness and scratchy throat sounds. I made her laugh a couple of times. That's good, right? Right?

And all I can think about is Quinoa and how I want to eat it and eat it all day and everyday. I just have such a mind for quinoa right now. I want those lovely curlicues to pop in my mouth and fill me with completeness. Good thing the farmers market is today or I might go insane. I'm going to buy beets today. I already decided. I'm intimidated by fresh beets. My only previous experience with beets is fighting with my family over wether to eat pickled or non-pickled beets from the can. Non-pickled beets all the way. Did you know that blue cheese is a natural accompaniment to beets? They say their flavors just meld together beautifully.

Besides dreaming of quinoa and beets (although not together...yet) I guess I just have my head in the clouds. And truth be told sometimes I just like having my head high above my body. There is all this pressure from myself and various other individuals to get on the ball and be something. I'm trying. Truly, I am.

There are a couple movies I like to watch when wanting to escape and today feels like a

Broken English kind of day. Wish me luck with the beets.

Feliz Cumpleaños

Oh...I had SUCH a craving for chocolate chip cookies today. So I made them and of course they were delicious. So when I called my Abuela today to wish her a happy 96th birthday I told her that I made them for her and I was eating them in her honor. And in true Abuela style she turned the conversation around on me and blessed me that I would enjoy the cookies and to hug my husband for her. What just happened? I was trying to send good wishes her way but she ended up overpowering me with her wishes. Man, she is good

I was going to post something all about me, me, me but I changed my mind and decided to write a little story or two about my Abuela in her honor because hello, she is 96.

Her long-term memory is sharp as a tack. She can remember down to the exact day when certain events happened. I have heard hundreds of stories about her working in the fields, digging for clams in the river by her house, taking lunch to her family in a basket on her head miles away and being wanted by all the boys because in her words "I wasn't the prettiest, but I was hard-working and respectable", which I guess was on all the boys lists in pre-war Spain. Also, once she balled her hand into a fist there was no way you could undo her fingers...NO way. Most of those stories I have heard on repeat for the past 10 years. In fact, I remember one summer when we were together that every time we rounded a specific corner of the road I was treated to the same story over and over and over and.....over. I could silently repeat it from the back seat by heart.

But her short-term memory is a little behind and sometimes she forgets where she puts things and gets a little frustrated when she can't find them. Case in point; My parents were out of town one weekend years ago and she had made a couple of loaves of bread. Well, she was missing one loaf and couldn't find it anywhere. So naturally who would she blame? Me, I was the only other person in the house. She was convinced that I had stolen a loaf of bread from her. I mean she could NOT be dissuaded from thinking that I stole a loaf from her. I reasoned and reasoned with her. Why would I steal a loaf instead of just taking a slice? Where would I hide said stolen loaf? Well, if I hadn't stolen it for me then I had stolen it and given it to one of my friends. I wasn't really in the habit of gifting loaves of bread to my friends at that time or ever really but she didn't believe it. It could only be one of two things for her: Either I stole it for me or I stole it for a friend. She was mad at me for hours until finally I went a looking for it. I opened the oven and it was still in there. She had forgotten it in the oven. Simple mistake I guess, just why all the stealing stuff? I just have to remember that when she was growing up in Spain and going through the Spanish civil war that someone just might have stolen a loaf of bread or something even worse. So I brought her the loaf and showed her where it was and then we called it even.

I laugh about it now but I think I was pretty offended at the time that she thought I would steal from her. I reminded her of the story last time I was with her but she didn't remember any of it. So we laughed and laughed about it together over our lunch at the Chinese Buffet she loves so much. She is a great lady.

Her hearing is getting worse but she never ceases to amaze me. Be it being baptized at 92 or always changing who gets what of her jewelry based on our performances that month to lovingly breaking up her dogs hard food with a hammer everyday to hemming all my pants for me.

Te quiero Abuela.

Mine

I was eating the most delicious gala apple from my farmers market the other night and Ricky made a motion that he wanted a bite. I pondered not sharing it for a minute but then realized I was pretty much obligated to give him a bite because I eat his food all the time. "OK, just don't be juicy and just take a little bite" I pleaded. I HATE sharing apples. In fact, in the past when someone asks for a nibble of my crispy apple I politely or un-politely as it happens refuse them. In my opinion sharing apples is the grossest thing you can share with your mouths, besides herpes but that goes without saying. I would rather share my soda with someone a million times over than my apple. There is just so much saliva and biting and sucking and noises involved. There are wayward tongues, juice dribbles and double-bites. I can't do it. I JUST CAN'T DO IT!! So don't ask me for a bite of my apple.

I cleaned the bathroom today. I don't know what came over me, it is only Friday. I clean on Saturdays. It may have been the soft light coming through the frosted window in the bathroom or maybe I just feel so accomplished already today that I wanted to add to it.

And now off to meet Ricky for our first Sushi in Seattle post move. Arigato.

Yipee!

GOOD NEWS!!! Our friends Mike and Whitney are coming to Seattle to visit AND my bf Stasy!!! I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. And sadly we do not have our sofa sleeper couch yet because of the Swine flu. Who knew the flu could stop furniture manufacturing?

And to keep the good news going I've decided to do something with my life AND I actually have a plan. But I'm not telling you because a watched pot never boils.

Ricky and I were driving home tonight and he asked me which turn was our street because it's really hard to see it and I told him to just look for all the people. And then we laughed about how we would describe which street to turn on to someone coming over, "Just look for all the loiterers and then turn right". It might seriously work. Our guests will soon find this out for themselves. Muah-ha-ha.

And just look at this beauty I got at the Salvation Army for $5.

Things are lookin up for 'ole Laquina.

You go up there and get me a toddler

Am I missing something? Am I supposed to have children already? I was perusing through facebook last night and it seems that 90% of the girls I know from high school are all at LEAST on their second kid. Well, except the ones that aren't married and frankly, I applaud them for not having kids yet (two feet on the floor ladies).

I just don't feel it, you know? Not one part of me wants to have kids right now. Not. One. Part. I love other peoples kids but I have no desire to birth one of my own.

In fact, Ricky and I had a conversation about just this topic the other night. I can't remember what he said for the millioneth time that led me to reply exasperatedly "you are SO baby hungry". To which he replied something else and I finished with "well go eat somebody's else's baby, we aren't having any yet".

For now I'll leave the baby making to the expert:

Shh...you'll wake the neighbors

I know I said I'd post pictures of the new place but maybe I don't want to. I'm still wrestling with the fact that I live in... the hood. And learning how to use my "outside voice" all the time like my neighbors is tiring. But not as tiring as spying through my blinds and watching all the "activity" on the street below. I feel like I'm living out the real life version of Spike Lee's "Do the right thing" movie except that I've only seen clips of it on VH1's I love the 80's.

If I wanted to watch a movie with positive moral values then I would just pop in "Superstar". But switching my judgement over to dairy products, I accidentally bought whole milk at the store yesterday. It was the best accident I've had all year (except for getting married). I had some for breakfast with my cereal this morning not knowing it was whole milk and I just kept thinking to myself "man, this milk is sooo creamy. I've got to get this brand again". It wasn't until I went for cereal/milk round 2 tonight that I read the label. "Ah-ha, this makes more sense" I told myself.

*I should have been...

And opera singer. I can really belt it out and I appreciate the merits of the song "Ave maria". With a little training I think I could have filled lesser known opera houses or starred in off-broadway productions.

Today is a good day!

I couldn't sleep anymore this morning partly because I had an awesome dream about seeing Gwen Stefani in her garage (she looked AWESOME) and mostly because we are moving in our place today!!!!! And so far, I love it. Bamboo floors? Yes please! So last night in celebration of the move we went and picked blackberries from the bushes that grow wild all over the island we are staying on

And made homemade blackberry ice cream. Mmmmm delicious! I can't wait to clean it up and bring all our stuff in and then buy a couch. That's right, no more lounging on just a love seat. I'll post pics after I take them and we get the internet.

Hooray!

They actually let me in

I'm blogging from my airport shuttle on the way to downtown Toronto. How cool is that? Free wi-fi on the bus!

Happy Canada Day everyone! Gotta go because I'm starting to get a little car sick.

Let's fly away

Well...I'm headed to Toronto tomorrow for 6 days! See you later suckers.

My thoughts in 3 parts

Part 1:

I've had to completely retrain my brain when I go to my closet to get dressed. I'm so used to carting a jacket or a light sweater out with me when I go out at night that I literally have to stop and think and remind myself that it is still 97 degrees when I step out the door at 8pm. It is the weirdest feeling to be out at night and still suffocating in the thick heat. I can't get used to it and I don't want to get used to it. I can't wait to get out of this hair dryer in the face place.

Part 2:

I think I want to start a series on my blog entitled "I should have been..." detailing the many occupations that I think I could have been good at if I only applied myself. Make sure you look out for those at the end of each post.

Part 3:

I discovered something last night that might have just changed my whole food world forever: green bananas. Last night we were celebrating our 6th month anniversary (already feels like forever) and went to a Jamaican place in downtown Phoenix called The bread fruit that was absolutely delicious. That's were I had green banana for the first time.

It came on the side of my plate next to the wheat dumpling and chicken curry with a side of vegetables steamed over coconut milk (heavenly by the way). It looked like a grey cooked banana, interesting. But you mash it up and eat it like potatoes. It was just like a baked potato, only better! I couldn't believe this whole other use for the banana was under my nose all my life and I didn't know it. I barraged our server with questions about how the cook it, etc and then went home and did a little more research. You just use a regular supermarket banana, not a plantain, and boil it in water for about 20 min, take the skin off and mash it up. It has a very mild flavor and can be used for all sorts of things! In fact, I read a recipe for banana fries. Just peel the green banana, cut into small slices and fry in the oil of your choice, then salt for a healthy alternative to french fries. They recommend smaller bananas for this. Kids and most adults will never know the difference! Also, Ricky did a little looking too and apparently green bananas help you absorb calcium which is good because I don't think any of us ladies wants to take Sally Field up on her offer to find out more about osteoporosis meds. I don't know about you but potato who? I'm over the spud now.

Don't bug me

I was reminded of a funny story tonight while I was battling with a bunch of cauliflower in the sink. I am SUPER paranoid about bugs in my produce so I rinse EVERY corner of every piece of lettuce, etc. And tonight while I bathed the cauliflowers every bunch I was taken back to a night in college during my junior year when just a situation had given me the upmost pleasure that one could ever get at the expense of another person.

Her name was Suzy. She had lived in the "loft" of the big barn on 7th E and 620 N for who knows how many years. All I know is she thought she owned that place. And I get it Suzy, you were my age now and 4 young phillies in their junior year invaded your space. But I don't think you needed to go all passive aggressive on us and take down any and ALL decorations we had put up and leave them in a pile on the floor to be discovered when we returned home. It's called communication and we had to start it with an 'apartment meeting' after your episode. C'mon, and "apartment meeting"? You made us do it. Didn't really help.

And after months of icy glares and barely a word shared between the 5 of us it happened. You were sitting in the kitchen having just devoured one of your spectacular vegetarian fares, just a big pile of broccoli, and I came in to make my meal and noticed a big wet spot on the counter. Ahh...you had washed your broccoli and forgotten to wipe up the excess water. But it didn't look just like water. It looked...occupied. So I scooped in for a better look and AH-HA!!!!! It was full of bugs! Little black bugs everywhere. There is no way they all made it out of that pile of broccoli - she had eaten bugs!!! So I casually said, "hey Suzy, you might want to come take a look at this". She did. The look on her face was priceless. I think she wanted to toss her vegetables if you catch my drift. It made all the awkward silences worth it.

She had eaten bugs.

And tonight as I remembered this while I washed my vegetables it made me smile just as big as it did the day Suzy ate bugs.

To Denver with love

Ricky and I have a problem deciding on where to live one day.  We pretty much differ in all our wants for an eventual home.  He loves rain and boat shoes and I have curly hair that frizzes in the rain and ankles that aren't built for boat shoes.  He loves the east coast and all the green and pretentiousness, I love the west coast and all the sunshine and laid-backness.  Basically we can't decide on anywhere because there is nowhere that I love.  He would love plenty of places but I just don't feel attached to anywhere yet.  And then I went to Denver.

Look, I'm not saying that Denver is perfect but have you smelled the air there yet?  Delicious.  It smells like mountains and it is crisp and tangible and intoxicating.  Everywhere you look is green and there are white-tailed bunnies hopping everywhere amidst the prairie dog hills with cute prairie dogs perched outside their holes just looking all cute with their hands held close to their chests.  I know if I lived there I would probably curse the prairie dogs for tearing up my yard but right now from far away they are so adorable.  

Also, they have a great light rail into the city which is actually why I liked Denver so much.  The suburbs were just suburbs but I LOVED the down town.  You end up at the station right next to the smallest six flags I've ever seen perfectly situated in walking distance to the baseball stadium.

Then you walk right into down town on a street where they don't allow cars  and you can just wander around and eat great food and and relax amongst the buildings.  I saw a side street full of christmas lights so we wandered down and came upon a whole street closed off full of chalk drawings and found this:

It is a Lechtenstein just for Ricky since that is one thing we agree on, we love the Lichtenstein.  I just loved it.  I'm not saying it is perfect and more than likely we won't end up there because I just hate snow and I know it snows there but it was so nice.  Also, the children there were very unremarkable.  None of my co-workers could come up with a better word than that for them.  They were just...blah.  But other than that - Bravo Denver, you made me want to come back again and again.  And even though the airport was a little nuts 

how can you be mad at something that looks like it is covered in merengue?

Maybe "the mile high city" needs a new slogan: "Just a mile below heaven".

Would you like them in your closet? Would you like them on your faucet?

"Oh no!" I said as I slapped myself on the forehead this morning.  "No, NO!  NOT AGAIN!" I screeched frantically.  "No, no, NO!!!!!"  I howled again and again as I rifled through my entire closet - and my husbands too.  "Where are they?" I wondered aloud.  

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhh, ughhhhhhhhhhh" I slowly stammered to myself.  "I've done it again" I said to myself out loud.  "Apparently I just have soo many clothes that I just throw things away without even wearing them once" I scolded.  

What is wrong with me?  This is the second time I've thrown away a new article of clothing that I love...into the garbage.  It is SO unbelievable that it has to be believable.  

The first time was in Tyson's Corner, Virginia 2 summers ago.  I had just scored the most unbelievable dress at my favorite store Zara for $20 on clearance.  Picture this:  black, knee-length frock with embroidered bright flowers just like a Mexican dress except from mid-chest up and onto the shoulders was covered in black sequins.  A sequined Mexican dress!  Is there anything more perfect?  And I was rushing to the airport but stopped to get my hair extensions (it was a nice experiment until I got dread locks underneath, nasty) fixed and in a rush to throw out garbage and extra bags from my friends car I threw away the bag containing my new dress.  Not only did I throw it away but it was a garbage in front of a Panera eatery.  No offense, they have some decent grub but it was no place to lay to rest the mother of all cocktail dresses..  I didn't realize it until I was already miles high in the sky.  I just hope that someone, somewhere emptying the garbage found it and wore it like I never could.

And today, more of the same.  I think I blogged a bit ago about finding the perfect pair of white pants - which never happens, btw.  It is like getting a new haircut and being able to perfectly recreate it the first time you have to do it by yourself: impossible.  But I found them and I was excited to wear them but as is the usual with all pants I buy they needed to be hemmed.  So I put them aside to await the sewing machine.  And today as I picked my wardrobe for my trip to Denver and Utah I went to find them and bam!  Not there.  Not anywhere.  I searched high and low and really low (under the bed) but again, nothing.  Then I remembered the pile of shopping bags I had outside my closet and how I wanted to be proactive and take out all the garbage - ok, and how I added more shopping bags to the pile and didn't want Ricky to notice - and they must of been in there, still in their bag.

Another wasted piece of perfect clothing.  Sure, the wide leg khakis I had to buy two summers ago for my summer camp keep showing up in my closet, but the good pants go to an early grave.  Maybe I should hire a garbage sifter to catch such things.  I would just feel bad because 99% of our refuse involves bits of food.  Yuck.  

My name is Laquina and I throw away brand new clothes.  Help.

MAY-DAY! MAY-DAY!

Probably one of the worst things that could happen to me happened today.  About 5 min. ago.  I came home with a load of groceries and as I approached my door I saw a small dark lump in front of my door.  And as is customary for me here in Arizona I crept a little closer to inspect what kind of creature it could be.  And of course, what was it?  A GIANT MOTH.  It was was sitting there perched in front of my door like a guard dog for hire.  I had no idea what to do.  I had all these groceries and it was soo hot outside and I couldn't get in my house.  I put my groceries down and just stared at it for about 5 min. willing it to want to leave.  I didn't have anything good to throw at it really so first I chucked my empty horchata cup at it and barely missed and nothing.  So I looked for the next best thing and all I had were my receipts.  I crumpled one up and it landed right next to it and still nothing.  I tried my last receipt and it too had no effect.  I literally had nothing decent left to throw at it except a watermelon, yogurt or some eggs and those aren't things you ideally want to hurl at cement.  

All I had left besides my gorgeous blue leather purse which I was not going to sacrifice, people please!, was my new Instyle.  I remember looking at it at the grocery check stand and I thought no, I shouldn't.  But inspiration told me to do it and boy was inspiration right - that magazine saved my and my perishables life.  I hurled it and splat!  It landed right on top and I shuffled all the groceries in the house safely and successfully.  Only, what now?  I had my brand new magazine brimming full of beautiful things and it was the gatekeeper for the newly obliterated intruder.  So I got my broom and tried to flip it over from a distance.  After shuffling a bit around the hallway outside my door I finally succeeded in getting it flip and as it did little moth body parts began to fall everywhere.  It's not my fault, it had its chance to live.  And then I had no choice but to rip off the back cover and throw it away, RIP Gucci ad.  

I know this all sound highly unrational but it's my cross to bear.  As I wrote this I was getting sickening waves of painful goose-bumps cascading up and down my arms and legs.  I think I need a break from all the excitement this afternoon.  

The emperor's new clothes

It is too hot to do anything.  It is too hot to wear anything, eat anything, or clean anything.  Sometimes I just lay on my bed under the whirring ceiling fan and do a mental checklist of my closet offerings.  Denim, merino wool, tweed, hounds-tooth, acrylic, cotton-poly blend.  No, no, no!  I can't bear to put any of them on.  My wardrobe is the result of living pretty much my entire life in Utah where there are four seasons and although the summers may get hot they are child's play compared to the Arizona melt-down starting to occur now.  

Most days the only thing I can bear to wear is one of my Mexican dresses.  They are the most comfortable and cool and all the colors are an instant shot of valium for the eyes.  I just...love them.  The only problem is that sometimes I'm surrounded by large groups of Mexicans.  Don't get twisted, I LOVE the Mexicans.  I love the culture, the food and hello, have you seen a Telenovela yet?  

For all you gringos they are translated as follows from top to bottom: "Fire in the blood", "Sins of others", "When you're mine", and finally "Don Juan and his beautiful dame".

Young and the what?  They totally trump our soaps.  But back to the Mexican dress.  It's not like anyone else is wearing them - and I mean ANY one else.  I'm the lone wolf sporting my cotton hand-embroidered frock.  And it just so happens that the last time I was wearing my dress I found myself in just the predicament I mentioned above: surrounded by crowds of Mexican people.  I can't remember why but we took an impromptu trip to one of my favorite places ever: The Ranch Market on Southern and Stapley.  It is this HUGE Mexican grocery store/eatery.  They had a really famous one in Phoenix for years and they just opened this one 5 min. from us.  It is pure heaven once you enter the doors that say Bienvenidos (welcome).  

So there we were in the parking lot about to enter and I looked down.  "Oh no, I'm wearing my dress" I said to Ricky.  There wasn't much I could about it at that point so I sucked it up and went in anyway.  But for those who are a little confused it would be kind of like you entering a grocery store in Germany wearing lederhosen and ordering a bratwurst and a beer.  Silly.  They don't wear lederhosen and Mexicans don't wear those dresses.  Oh well, I guess I just showed exactly how much I like them.  Although I felt a little sheepish I went about my business eating my huaraches, drinking my agua fresca and ordering queso fresco from the deli.  

Now I'm just trying to get other clothes into the rotation, as much as I hate it, to avoid this happening again.  Man I love that dress.

*editors note: If you haven't tried queso fresco you really should.  It is mild and soft almost like cottage cheese pressed into a mold.  It is slightly salty and totally refreshing, and compared to most others cheeses it is really good for you.  Trust me, you are going to love it.

Badges? We don't need no stinking badges.

I have been thinking A LOT lately about what to do with my life.  Do I go back to school, and if so, for what?  Do I get a Master's degree in something I kind of like, become a dental hygienist or certify to be the teacher everyone wants me to be that I don't want to be.  And as I was talking to Ricky about it tonight I remembered a little something my oldest sister at the Jet set gave me a couple of years back:

I think she was on to something.  I think it was part joke, part what I think about my style of life and a big part true.  I repeat, I think she was on to something.  Sure, to some people I have lived a crazy life traveling every couple of years and hardly studying just to get through college, but to other people who have fancy degrees and bajillions more frequent flier miles than me I am just a regular person.  Voila! Mediocre!  

I don't want to be mediocre anymore!  But I'm stuck between getting into school loan debt, my ticking uterus clock and taking the GRE (that alone makes me ill).  And as I searched for the Mediocrity poster to share with you all I found this:

Something to look forward to as I begin this journey.  I relate to this one quite well right now.  Does your job or lack thereof define you?  I need an answer.

Let's eat!

I did something I never do: I clicked on a link advertised above my gmail inbox because it said vegetarian chili and hey, I love a good vegetarian chili.  It sounded so good at the moment and it was the best thing I ever did.  I came upon the most delicious website of some nice lady named Heidi.  It has the MOST delicious things posted.  I just sat there clicking on recipe after recipe and drooling.  I started taking a mental note of everything in my kitchen and started an actual list of ingredients to go out and buy immediately tomorrow.  The recipes are all mostly vegetarian but don't worry all you tofu haters you can leave out the tofu (which is only in some recipes) and add in whatever you want but they are just good, healthy, fresh meals for anyone.  I'll take mine with tofu please.  Just look at the chili:

 Previous Post

Grilled Fava Beans

Mmmmm....I want it even though I hesitate to make it in the pleasant 102 degree weather here.  Also, the nice thing is the ingredients aren't too crazy so you get them wherever you are.  You can get the recipe here and start searching through the site and let's get cooking!!!  Cousin E - I thought of you this whole post, enjoy!  Bon appetit.

*update: Check out these cookies - no butter, no flour, no egg, no sugar, no way!!  Yummmm

Oh my "H"

"Mother....lover".  "Son  of a .....bisquit".  Stupid piece of.....shi".  "Unbe....freakingleivable".  And my favorite, "how the haetch is this happening to me"?  

All are things either being mumbled or screamed in my apartment tonight.

My stupid mother - loving sewing machine is a piece of shat that I can't take anymore.  

Now to those who harp with the utmost virtue that substituting swear words is still bad or even worse, to those who think you just sound stupid when you substitute like-sounding words for the real ones: FU.   I would so much rather yell "you MOTHER LOVING PIECE OF PISS" while around others then use the real deal.   It is just not very lady like and to be honest I'd rather save up me swears for a truly deserving bar brawl - should it ever come along. 

I just don't know what else to say.  I'm not a sewer, I don't particularly gain any real glee from throwing something together other than the wind sock I made in Junior high because that thing truly danced in the wind.  But I decided that since I no longer have a grandma to exploit I have to do the darning and mending myself.   I pulled out the sewing machine my mom gifted me 2 years ago and I just can't do anything right.  It is dirty inside and making all the thread gray and greasy so I opened it and took it apart and cleaned it.  Verdict:  thread still dirty.  It was sewing all fine and dandy and dirty until I decided to sew an actual garment and the bottom thread keeps getting clogged.  Verdict: immovable needle due to thread tangle below.  I cleaned out the bottom thread and reset the two threads.  Verdict:  thread clogged again.

I'm at my wits end.  I know a lot of this is human error on my part but c'mon.  I gave up and walked away tonight and left everything where it was.  

And now I'm afraid to open my mouth because the only thing ready and willing to come out is fake swear words.  Humiliation.

Thus I have tried blog therapy and I'm hoping this will work or I may never sew again.  At the very least, not around children.  I just can't clean up this fake potty mouth.

Anti-dentite

I'm so mad at my Dentist (may he R.I.P.), but not really.  I love my dentist.  Sometimes I feel like the deranged girlfriend of my dentist and I hate it.  In my head I still picture us together on center st. in Orem just looking out the window and rinsing with fluoride just like he taught me.  I miss the small talk we used to have throughout the years about what year in school I was and we both couldn't believe how big I was getting.  I was there through the boring years when you just had to stare at the ceiling and rejoiced for my dentist when he had televisions installed in each cube and you could watch pictures of people's before and after smiles.  Sure, we had our ugly moments involving cavities and lectures on flossing more, but he always left me with a goodie bag to let me know he cared.  

Then one day I fell off the insurance wagon and suddenly he wanted to charge me money to let me see him.  Money to let me see him!  We had been together for soo long.  Didn't he care if I got gingivitis suddenly?  Or what about a root canal?  Would he only care if I payed him everything in my savings bank?  I wanted to counter with "but we have your daughters wedding announcement on our refrigerator!!!  How many patients can you say that about?  Huh?  Huh?!".  But I couldn't do it.  I was forced to wait behind a desk and communicate second hand through the receptionist. 

And the worst part was that I could still see a peek of the world I had been tossed out of without so much of a glance.  There they were, all the blessed patients happily being buffed and flossed in their cubicles of light never knowing that I had ever been there.  We used to be a family my dentist and I.  We never had doors and he kept all the pictures we ever took together.  I couldn't bear it any longer so I skipped town...permanently. 

And today I was reminded of the insurance restraining order I had back in Utah as I waited 2 1/2 hours to see a Dental student at the free clinic at Ricky's school.   Oh the fall from grace.  The indignity!  I used to get right in.  They expected me.  This time I had to wait until I was finally admitted and then they took my blood pressure and weighed me and finally poked my sensitive tooth with an ice pick to make sure it was still alive.  It was and it... hurt.  It hurt almost as bad as missing my dentist.  But it is I who will have the last laugh when I show up next month on center st. in Orem and demand that he fix me up for free - or at the very least for very, very cheap because this whole mess was his fault.  

I guess he figured if he couldn't clean my teeth then no one else could, so he messed up on purpose just to see me again.  

Oh Mr. Dentist...you shouldn't have (giggle).

Summer love

I'm currently obsessed with bathing suits.  Ever since I discovered the a one piece can be flattering that is all I want to wear.  I have spent so many years feeling kind of comfortable in my bathing suits and now I feel like I have a new lease on life!  It sounds so silly but now I want to be in my swim suit all the time.  And thanks once again to my trusty TJ Maxx I have recently acquired a new piece to add to the line up.  Finally I can look the part of the pin-up girls I have always wanted to be:

  

It's the glamorous, the flossy, flossy.  I'm still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that my dearly beloved tankinis will probably be laid to rest this summer and maybe every summer thereafter.  But they've had their day in the sun...pun intended.  I've done a complete 180 from the low rise jeans and tank tops of my first youth and now during my second youth I am purposely shopping at stores I NEVER would have gone in because they were "mom stores".  In fact, I went into New York and Co. the other day for the first time and walked out with the best fitting pair of white pants I have ever tried on.  No kidding!  White pants!!  I feel completely changed and electrified and it seems my future is so bright I've gotta wear shades (big Armani ones with gold sides).

  

Bird flu

I don't get it.  If you wouldn't put it on your shirt, why would you put it somewhere else?

And if you would wear it on your shirt then I know where you can get it.

Yo voutre un nap

I think I need to call my mom and ask her if she used to put me on the washing machine to get me to fall asleep.  I have problems falling asleep in my own bed but I cannot resist the lull of the airplane.  Just like a cobra being seduced by the haunting notes of the flute I too am seduced by the oxygen being pumped in and all the white noise.  I absolutely cannot stay awake.  I literally mean I cannot stay awake.  

BTW, does anyone think the pillow in this picture is ridiculous?  That is a ginormous pillow to carry-on.  Just wear a shirt that says "hey, I'm really old and only concerned about comfort at the expense of looking like a du-fuss".

  It has just gotten worse over the years.  I used to sleep a little here and there and it has gradually slipped into falling asleep before the plane even leaves it's dock.  I have woken up before and been confused that we were already cruising high above the clouds because I don't remember taking off.  And today we flew from Chicago to Phoenix and I fell asleep right on schedule before the take-off and besides a few position changes I woke up to the captain telling us we were beginning our final descent into Phoenix.  I could not believe I slept the whole time.  I slept about 3 hours on the plane without even knowing.  

What is to become of me?  If my rate of falling asleep continues to rise and the trips don't get any longer then the numbers say I am in trouble.  Will I fall asleep now before I even buckle my seat belt?  Will I drool on the business man next to me?  What if I sleep walk on the plane?  Someone could rob me so easily.  I mean, I was sleeping on Ricky's shoulder while he was furiously playing DDR on his phone and I didn't know it.  In my own bed if so much as his toe wanders over I wake up and yell until he moves it.  

I think I must have aviation narcolepsy.  And I'm sure there are a number of other people in German parliament who suffer from this as well.  Am I alone here?

Editors note:  Be aware that when I googled "sleeping on a plane" in the images there were TONS of pictures that people had taken of random strangers sleeping on the plane.  We could ALL be out there somewhere with our mouths open.....

Take this job and shove-it

I forgot what working is like.  After I moved here and didn't have a job I thought "how am I ever going to fill up all of this time?  I'm SO bored".  Well, I filled it up.  I just filled up all my time with lots of stuff and now that I'm strapped for time again I don't like it.  Not one bit.  

I see the value in hard work and I fully intend to teach my children all about it as they weed the garden at 7am every sat morning.  I just don't know how much value it has for me anymore.  I've worked long hours as a waitress, called people to survey them, folded and re-folded clothes in retail, filed and ran excel sheets, wrangled other people's kids and stamped and stamped books in the back of the library.  I've had a wide variety of jobs but maybe I've peeked.  Who says you have to wait until your 50's to top-out?  

I was sooo good at keeping up the house and making sure the kitchen was fully stocked.  I mean, I was REALLY good at it.  Service with a smile I like to say.  And I penciled in time for a bike ride and some quality time at the pool occasionally.  It most certainly is a crime to keep me away from what I excel at, right?

You know they say that we never use our full brain capacity and that is probably true...for people who work.  You get focused on and really good at only a couple of things like payroll and time cards or mergers and acquisitions.   But when I wasn't working I think I was operating at 98% brain capacity.  I was reading all sorts of interesting books - some of them science related - and listening to NPR and watching videos of string theory and extraordinary people with super-human brains.  I cooked new food all the time and started sewing and watched 4 seasons of Friends.  

Tell me I'm not a better, stronger, faster human after that.  Now I sit down 8 hrs a day staring at a computer and all the super awesome knowledge I had obtained the past couple of months is draining.  

"I don't wanna work, I just wanna bang on this mug all day..."