Merry Christmas...to me...

The other day, James said this..."I feel bad. I don't think I really got you much for Christmas."

To which my response was this..."I took care of it."

I enjoy shopping. Year-round. For myself. I'm very good at picking out things that I like. SO, as I "shop for others" during the holiday season, if I see something I can't live without, I buy it, wrap it, put it under the Christmas tree To: Me, From: either James, Santa, or Me. I like to mix it up a little. Am I selfish? Probably...okay, yes. However, I like to think of my shopping habits as having the spirit of Christmas year-round (definitions may vary)...and around Christmas-time, I know James would rather have me get something that I want than waste money on something that I would maybe only sort-of want. Right? We have an understanding...I think...

On Saturday, James and I decided to go to Billings "for fun." Note to self: shopping on the Saturday before Christmas = wanting to commit suicide while standing in line for 3 hours or trying to squeeze my way through the mall. Not fun. Anyway, we declared it "shopping for ourselves" day. Or maybe I did. Either way, James really wanted to buy me stocking stuffers. So, we were wandering around the mall and I happened to see a down vest that I really liked...I was pretty sure that I could stuff that sucker into my stocking...it was $100, on sale for 25% off.

Lady checking us out: "That will be $85.00."

James: (Starts handing over credit card).

Me: "Isn't it 25% off?"

Lady: "Yep."

Me: ...(remember there is no sales tax in Billings...)

Me: "Then shouldn't it be $75.00?"

Lady: ........

Me: "Am I frickin' losing it?" (You know how you're so certain of something, but when someone else acts like they are just as certain, you start doubting your mad math skills that you learned in 3rd grade? I mean, come on. It was a percentage off of $100).

Lady: (Takes out calculator...Seriously???)

Me, after seeing her take out the calculator: "Yeah, I'm not losing it."

Lady, after some serious calculations: "Oh, you're right! Thank you so much for telling me. I must have used the wrong code...I wonder how many other people I did that to today?"

James: (still holding out credit card)...

Moral of the story: If you bought something at Eddie Bauer on Saturday, check your receipt.

On a more serious note...I want everyone to know that, despite what I just said, I actually do know the "true" meaning of Christmas...I even got a fortune cookie at Chinatown the other night that said, "In this world it is not what we take up, but what we give up, that makes us rich." That's right, I live my life according to fortune cookies. (I'd also like to note that I did give up a lot of other things that I could have bought myself...just sayin')... But yes. I am grateful for the spirit of Christmas - for the chance we have to celebrate Christ's birth - and to remember the way He lived His life: in service to those around Him...and that He did "give up" everything. I know that if we, too, lose ourselves in service that we will receive greater satisfaction and happiness in life than any sweater, scarf, or pair of shoes could ever give us! :) So Merry Christmas, everyone!!!

Slackers and Crazies

So I'm a slacker. I know, I know, this may come as a shock to many of you, but, alas, it is true. I've just been so busy...skipping my art class in Cody...not turning in my application to substitute teach...getting out of bed at 9 am...painting PAINTING! Yay! I did finish something. I painted my house, and I will post pictures if I can somehow figure out how to do a slide show on here. I now feel a little bit better about myself (actually I'm not done painting yet - but I did get a lot done...I don't want to talk about it). Ahem.

Actually, I am slightly exaggerating. I feel like I'm really busy but when I look back at the end of the week or if someone asks me what I did all day, I have a hard time coming up with stuff. Does anyone else have this problem? James said that I'm the only one he knows who can turn a 3 credit art class and a 2 hour a week job (I teach yoga) into a full-time job. Whatever. Anyway, the point is...I am a slacker. Which brings me to my next point: Don't smoke crack (WaterBoy, anyone?) Moving on.

Here is a slideshow of my summer - starting with Graduation in May - consisting of many hikes - and painting - and, well, just look at the stupid pictures:

There is something else that I've been thinking about lately...

They're everywhere.

In our closets, cars, bathrooms. On our bedside tables, in our kitchens, on our own bodies. In our workplaces, classrooms, and even, *gasp*, in the great outdoors.

We sleep on them at night, we put them together, we communicate through them, we cannot live without them!

They cause husbands to scream and fathers to go cross-eyed.

Inanimate Objects (may or may not be technological): Creating rage and insanity in the male species since, well, forever.

Let me explain.

I'm on the phone a lot. That's one of my jobs. I pay bills. I call 800,000 companies to get our &%$# phone number/address switched. I used to have to call and check insurance plans when I worked at the front desk of a PT office. In other words, I have a lot of experience talking THROUGH inanimate objects TO non-living computer generated voices...

James does not.

In an event that began with one of DirecTV's channels not working and me telling James that if he wanted to watch it, HE could call them for once in his life, James used the telephone. And got a fake person. The event concluded with me walking out the door, telling him to meet me at my parents' for dinner because I was not about to sit around and listen to a crazy person yelling at the top of his lungs at a recording that he "frickin just want(s) to talk to somebody!"...as he subsequently took it out on the phone.  I'm not sure it survived.

I go to my parents' where my dad is insisting that the new HD receiver and remote isn't working. I'm pretty sure there were a few choice words being thrown around, with my mom talking under her breath in the kitchen that "he is an idiot" and that "I showed him how to use it yesterday" or something to that effect.

Moral of the story: You can't argue with stupid. Or crazy. Just walk away, and be glad the phone or remote or rock or screwdriver or hat or whatever it may be has no feelings.

Too much information...

As most of you know, James and I are moving to Lovell...next week, to be exact. While I'm excited to "get the hell out of dodge" since it's been all talk forever, I will definitely miss Denver. I have grown to love it here and will miss all of the friends that I have made...not to mention all of the malls that are within a 10 mile radius of my apartment (James will not miss that part...)

Tuesday was my final day at work - I have been working the past 2 years for my bro-in-law, Bart (that's Dr. Bart, DDS you anti-dentite b@$t@rd (Seinfeld reference)). I LOVED this job. It is definitely numero uno on my, well, very lengthy list of jobs...which is what I was thinking about when I started this post. I thought back to all of the jobs I've had since I was about 13...

1) The Lovell Chronicle - Let's not lie. Not a fun job. But definitely fun to hang out with friends while sort-of working. 5-6 years.

2) Lifeguard at Lovell Rec - I love you, Gail! I loved being a lifeguard, even though I have the attention span of a 2 year old. I think this job may have helped me to focus, somewhat. 4 years.

3) Recycling Center - UW Recycling - Worst job ever. 'Nuff said. Actually, this is the only job I've ever almost been fired from. My boss was going through a rough time and accused me of stealing recycling signs. Really. What the crap am I going to do with signs that say paper and plastic? 5 months. 5 months too long.

4) Coe Library - Acquisitions - I had a great boss that laughed at me when she found me sleeping sitting up (give me a break - I had just left my night job 11-7am shift from another job - sheesh). 3 years.

5) Motel 8 - Not a nice motel, but cheap. I worked the midnight shift and definitely got a lot of crazies. I also got to sleep since not a whole lot happened...for real. They told me I could. Summer job - 3 months.

6) Coe Library - Processing - I followed my boss across the hall when she took another job at the library. Had some awesome co-workers!

7) UW Fieldhouse - Circuit training - I took people through a circuit training program - lifting weights and such. Worked with Melissa. Lots 'o fun. 1 or 2 years-ish.

8) Walmart - I seem to remember most of Lovell working at the Laramie Walmart when I was there. I was a checker for 6 months. A lady yelled at me and called me an effing moron. Not nice.

9) PhoneBase Research - Yes. I called people at their homes. I asked them to take surveys. I hated myself. 3 months.

10) Mary Kary - Hee. Yes, I attempted to sell Mary Kay...I felt bad that the prices were so high, and offered the product at 1/2 price. Obviously I didn't make any money. I am not a saleswoman. 3 months.

11) Boys & Girls Club of Park County - Learned a lot. Can't stand kids (well, 80 kids all at once, that is...) Summer job, 3 months.

12) Gem City Bone & Joint, Medical Records - I filed papers and charts. Lots of busy work, but better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. 2 years.

13) Gem City Bone & Joint, Physical Therapy Aide - I took people through exercises. I liked it, except for the time the therapist played a dirty joke on me and had me hand-wash one of her patient's feet (completely nasty, rancid, sickening, smelly feet)...

14) Waitress at Village Inn - Not that I don't love old people, but $0.25 is not a good tip. 6 months.

15) Denver Physical Therapy, Physical Therapy Aide - Loved, loved, loved this job! I loved the therapists I worked for - they cracked me up and I still go and visit all of them to this day. They never made me wash anyone's feet. 2 years.

16) Douglas Co. School District, Speech Pathology Assistant - They failed to mention I didn't get any benefits with this job. I actually really enjoyed it (except for the little boy that poo-ed his pants every day), but couldn't afford it. 2 months.

17) Denver Physical Therapy, Administrative Assistant (fancy schmancy name for secretary) - They hired me back for a different position. Like I said, they rocked.

18) Bart Christiansen, DDS, Dental Assistant - I found I actually DO like sucking up spit. The only thing that bothers me are lugies...sick. Makes me want to vomit. 2 years.

Um. Wow. I knew it would be long, but I actually didn't know how long until just now. As you can see, I am a very "well-rounded" individual. Or something. Seriously, who has had 18 jobs by the time they are 27? Me, that's who. Perhaps I shouldn't post this for fear of future employers discovering my secrets... ;) I'm excited to finally take a small break once we move to Lovell, although I know I will get bored fairly quickly since I'm used to having 2 or 3 jobs at a time. However, I am planning on teaching yoga a couple days a week, so spread the word!

*I tag anyone who wants to list their jobs! See if you can outnumber me...

Choose the...

I just have to know...

is it wrong that I went to Good Times today, got a Teriyaki Chicken sandwich and a Spoon Bender, and ate the Spoon Bender first? (for those of you who do not know what a spoon bender is, it's like a blizzard from DQ)  Not to mention that I only ate half of my sandwich after I ate the entire spoon bender...

is it wrong that I am eating a bowl of Lucky Charms at approximately 1:18 a.m.?  Not to mention that I picked out a lot more of the marshmallows out of the box because apparently I didn't get enough in my bowl?

is it wrong that I bought a pair of shoes yesterday, only to discover that they wouldn't stay on my feet once I started walking in them...took them back, got a smaller pair...they now stay on my feet, but give me huge blisters?  And I am going to keep them???  Because they are cute??

is it wrong that I played Bejeweled Blitz for like, and hour and a half tonight on the computer???  (KB, you're dead to me...)

is it  wrong that my new pair of glasses are pink?

is it wrong that I could tell you everything you need to know about vampires, werewolves, faeries, wizards, and anything else that goes bump in the night?  and that my knowledge increases daily?  (they're not real, they're not real, it's make believe, it's just a book...)  and that I really do truly wish I was a wizard?

is it wrong that I can basically beat any song on expert on Guitar Hero?  and that I secretly think that's pretty frickin' sweet?

is it wrong that I can't remember the last time I cooked dinner? (so sorry James, but you have been gone a lot lately...)

is it wrong that I have the TV on the infomercial channel?

is it wrong that I have 3 different types of salon shampoo & conditioner in my shower because I think my hair works better when I have a variety to choose from?

...or just stupid.

Wash your hands!

I am an idiot.

Tonight I went to Ft Collins to play city league volleyball with my dear friend, Terrance Jillian (aka Teri).  One of the girls on our team has two cute little kids that she sometimes brings with her.  They are so sweet...occasionally, we have to take a time out so that Sherri can take her little girl to the potty.  Tonight was one such occasion.  Sherri raced back in, put her daughter on the bleachers, and ran back out on the court.  "We didn't wash her hands," she says, as we all laugh (they only give us 30 second time outs, so we had already started playing without her).  

After the game (yes, we won, of course...) I told Teri to wait for me because I had to use the potty.  As I was sitting there, Sherri walks in with her little girl again into the stall next to me.  

Sherri: "Okay, let's hurry.  Let's get this unbuttoned."

Me: (imagine it as if I'm talking to a little child x 10)  "Okay!  Here I go!"

Sherri:  Laughs.  Sort of.  

Sherri:  "Remember like last time..." blah blah blah, whatever mothers say to their kids when they take them to the bathroom.

Moron (that would be me, still in mock parent's voice):  "And let's remember to wash our hands!"  Laughing at my funny joke.

Girl in next stall with child:  ....

Me:  .....

Suddenly, I wonder why it is that Sherri's daughter would have to pee again so quickly when she just went minutes before.  Suddenly, I realize as I look briefly at the little girl's shoe under the stall, that it's much larger than Sherri's little girl's shoe.  Suddenly, that doesn't sound much like Sherri...

I pull up my pants, flush, race to the sink, wash my hands, grab my keys & chapstick, drop my chapstick, curse under my breath as I grab for my chapstick (meanwhile the toilet was flushing from the little girl...they would be out in seconds...) and run - no, SPRINT to the bathroom door and flee to the gym where, that's right, you guessed it, Teri, Sherri, and children are all still there.  

I tell them my humiliating story as the pseudo Sherri & child enter the gymnasium.  We all laugh hysterically as I'm SURE she is telling her story to her teammates about the crazy lady in the adjacent stall (I'm pretty confident she could spot me).  Teri pointed out that instead of waiting and saying, "Oh!  I'm sorry, I thought you were my friend!" and making it all better and laughing, I decided to duck and run.  Yes, folks, I panicked.  Let this be a lesson to us all to not speak to others while we're taking care of business.   Or to take a friend with us at that very moment so that we know they are, indeed, the person we are talking to.  Maybe that's why girl's always go in groups???  

Car Trouble...

So a couple weekends ago, Mom and Pops let KB, Devan and I take their car.  Ahem.  So, we get in the car, I turn it on, and it's beeping madly at me.  I put on my stinking seatbelt so it will shut up.  It doesn't.  The headlights aren't turning on, either.  AND, I can't find the stinking light on the inside of the car so that I can see where to turn on the headlights.  Oh yeah, and the car is still beeping at me.  I yell at KB to put on her (insert expletive here) seatbelt, only she already has it on.  I yell at Devan in the back seat.  The madness is beginning to take hold because I can't see, the stinking car won't quit beeping at me, and I can't find out how to turn on the headlights...and I'm still in the driveway. Oh yeah, and I'm wrapped up in a blanket I stole from my brother since my coat was in MY car.  

So I call Daddio to the rescue on his phone inside the house...which is 15 feet away...  

The knight in shining armor comes out 

and asks what in the H-E-double hockey sticks I did to not let the headlights come on (they are automatic, apparently). He leans in the car, pulls out the knob, and turns on the headlights.  At this point, I had put it back in park so the beeping had stopped.  We applaud, hoot n holla as Dad walks back inside...I put it in reverse...and the beeping continues.  I scream.  I try to put it in drive, but it won't go.  It finally dawns on me that there is a bright red light on the dash that says "BREAK" all lit up like a Christmas tree...yadda yadda yadda, the beeping stops, and we laugh our faces off. Apparently Dad had too much faith in me and had assumed I'd already released the emergency break.  He should know better. 

This reminded me of another time Dad had to help me out...(one of many, mind you...)

Let me take you back to 1997...ish...

I was either 15 or 16 (let's not lie, I drove when I didn't have a license...shhh...) and was driving the Ford Aerostar with Becky Walker. Yes, I said Ford Aerostar...an '88, to be exact. It was super sweet.  Since I was new to the whole driving thing, I nearly had a conniption when the "check engine" light came on. I thought I had done something wrong...(I mean, not that I killed it multiple times or anything...Becky do you remember when I kept killing it at the stoplight? I was half-way out in the intersection when the light turned red and everyone had to wait for Becky and I to switch places...) Yeeaaah. So. Back to my story. The check engine light was on, I didn't know what to do, so we pulled over to Becky's house and called mi padre.

Daddio seemed to think that I needed to check the oil, and told me to call him back after I did so. Piece of cake, right? So, we go and check the oil. However, I was having issues with the dip stick thingy...I called my dad and told him that I couldn't get the dip stick to go down the hole to check the oil. I was told to wiggle it around a bit, and that sometimes it just gets stuck. So, I wiggled it around a bit, but the piece of crap wouldn't move another inch. I called my dad two more times before I told him that it was stupid and that I was coming home so that he could check the stinking oil.

Daddy dearest: "What, exactly, are you doing? Tell me exactly what you did."
Me, in exasperated irritation and mocking tones (I'm very good at this...): "I took the dip-stick out of the holder, I opened the lid that said "OIL," and I put the dip stick in. What the crap do you think I did."
Daddy dearest: (Laughing hysterically)....(still laughing hysterically)...

Pretty much, he called me an idiot and informed me of the proper way to check the oil. Just for the record, Becky didn't know either. And doesn't it seem logical to check it that way??? (please humor me...)

Almost...

Over the last couple of weeks, I ALMOST...

...wet myself.  I will always be forever grateful to the outhouses located on the south side of Pena Blvd on the way to the airport.  Grody they may be, but they sure beat relieving myself in the backseat of my bro-in-law's car.  Thank you, founder of the portable toilet service.

...died of starvation.  I was sent to bed with no dinner upon arriving in Dallas for a training for work.  Okay, not really, but apparently no one else was hungry.  I, on the other hand, could not stop thinking about food, mainly because all I'd had to eat earlier that day was lettuce wraps.  I was also in a room by myself, and was oddly scared to leave it.  I finally got up enough courage at around 10 pm to go down to the lobby of the hotel, and lo-and-behold, a beacon of light shone down upon the freezer filled with frozen goodies and the fridge filled with Diet Pepsi.  It was the best $8.50 I ever spent.  A pint of ice cream (I really didn't eat the whole thing...) and a Diet Pepsi later, I was fat and happy.  

...got suckered into buying something off an infomercial.  So there I was, eating my pint and watching infomercials...  Have you heard of P90x?  Not a good idea to watch infomercials late at night.  I think they do that on purpose.  I finally came to the realization that I will never be that disciplined or motivated, nor do I want to be.  Maybe.

...lost my head.  Note to self, when sitting in aisle seat on airplane, do not fall asleep with head leaning out in aisle.  Flight attendants will show no regard for parts of body in aisle when pushing carts full of peanuts and pop.  

...saw what the guy next to me on the plane looked like.  I'm anti-social on planes.  I either bury my face in a book or fall asleep.  No exceptions.  

...cried.  Have you ever watched Extreme Makeover: House Edition???  What's the deal?  Is that their main goal, because I'm pretty sure it is.  Who knew I would cry over an old lady and her rose garden?  

...got outsmarted by a cheerleader...not that there's anything wrong with that...ahem.  Um, I don't want to talk about it, but it involved me, a cheerleader from CSU, and a paper towel dispenser...

...laughed my face off.  I'm pretty sure it was the same cheerleader (see above) at the CSU vs. WY Cowgirls game last weekend...she was cheering along with the others, throwing t-shirts to those in the crowd who were "cheering the loudest."  She chose the fan, wound up for an underhand throw, released the t-shirt...and threw it straight up in the air - to herself.  Not on purpose, mind you.  Attempt #2:  here she goes....Oh!  This time, the powerful underhand throw rocketed the t-shirt BEHIND her.  Yes, that's right, behind.  And no, that was not the location of the loudest fan.  Attempt #3.  Not making that mistake again!  She overhand throws it by stepping with the same foot as the hand that throws it, and finally launches it to, well, someone in the crowd.  Who knows who she was aiming for???