Who knows...

January?  Really?  Apparently I've had nothing of worth to say in 2012.  Actually, I'm pretty sure nothing I ever have to say is really that important, but still...

Heh. 

Ugh.  What's new?  Welp, I live in Denver now...there are lots of malls...yada yada yada...I no longer have any money. 

(I still somehow haven't gotten any Christmas shopping done yet...)

Hmm...oh!  I'm starting my externships in January for my masters' program...I'd say I'm excited, but that would be silly.  I have a bad case o' senioritis, my friends.  For example, I have a final next week that I have yet to study for.  So what am I doing?  I'll give you one guess...

I pulled a Michael Scott the other day when I was trying to find the hotel Jill and Charlie Marchant were staying in... 

Okay, it wasn't quite this bad, but I fully trusted the blasted application to get me to my destination and made James turn down a sketchy alley in the ghetto to find the Hyatt Hotel, because, well, Maps told me that's where it was, and Maps knows all.  Was there a Hyatt at the end of said alley?  No.  No, there was not.  Did I still trust the app when in the SAME DAY it told me where my nephew's high school basketball game was?  Yes.  Yes, I did.  Sigh.  We made it by half-time.  

I recently tried to grow my eyebrows out so my co-worker could reshape them for me.  I happened to glance in a mirror at work today and saw this...

 

It was terrifying.  Operation Unibrow has been aborted. 

I went to a nerd convention a couple of weeks ago in Atlanta (aka American Speech-Language and Hearing Association).  There were hundreds of booths set up as part of the convention, and all of them were giving away free stuff.  It was like Christmas! (Never you mind the $210 it cost to actually get into the convention...)  At least, it was like Christmas until I got home and realized it was all crap.  What is it about the prospect of getting free stuff that would compel me to sign up for the chance to "win an ipad" via giving out my email address and phone number?!?  And then proceed to take pens and educational flyers that I will never remove from the free grocery bag I got at the booth next door??  I've now hit "unsubscribe" more times than I can count in response to the staggering amount of email I have received as a result.  Sigh.

I have a new love.  It's called Blue Bell Ice Cream.  Don't get me wrong - I don't discriminate against any brands/flavors/etc. of ice cream - it's all good (I'm not the biggest fan of chocolate, but hey - if it's in front of me, I'll eat it).  But there is something truly special about Blue Bell...I think it's called fat.  Straight up lard is inserted into the carton, I'm sure of it.  Why can't I have a love of carrots?  Apples?  Celery?  Because they're good for you and aren't delicious, that's why.  I also keep seeing these people on Facebook that are not eating any "added sugar" or whatever...I tried it on Tuesday.  The gummy bears won about 3 minutes later.  I've heard that if I were to stop eating candy, I wouldn't crave it anymore, but how could anyone possibly get to that point?  I don't understand.  Does someone throw you in a torture chamber?  A padded cell?  Plus, it's good.  Why would I want to stop?  Besides the fact that I may, actually, be turning into a gummy bear...

I think I've rambled on enough.  I'm actually supposed to be paying attention in class right now...I think this blog post may be suffering from my divided attention.  If there is anything ridiculous or just plain silly on here, now you know why.  Farewell, friends.  Have a great Christmas/New Year's/Valentine's Day/St. Patrick's Day/Easter/etc!  I think you get the point...until next time! 

Thirty, Flirty and Thriving

I initially entitled this post "Dirty Thirty," just because it rhymes and someone said it to me the other day.  Then I looked it up.  I changed my mind.  You probably shouldn't look it up.  Ahem.

Welp, it's all over, folks...sigh.  Next Friday, the 13th, my youth is officially over.  Actually, I must say that I've been feeling the affects of my geriatric state over the past few months.  I mean, I suppose I am already in my 30th year, right?  Well, whatever the case may be, the fact remains: it's all downhill from here.

It all started with the gray hair I spotted earlier this year.  I had relentlessly made fun of two gray hairs I found on James about a month prior to my own shocking discovery...one might say I even brought it upon myself.  One would probably be right, but one should also shut their face...

Anyway, where was I?  Oh yeah.  Then my shoulder started aching during volleyball because apparently I didn't warm up.  Who warms up?  Have you ever warmed up?  I don't warm up.  I didn't warm up.  And now my shoulder hurts.  What was once okay in my youth, is no longer.

I think I hit my mid-life crisis when I decided to do the workout, Insanity, about 3 1/2 weeks ago...it is as it's title states: Insane.  Seriously.  I thought I was going to puke at one point.  Then I realized it was just the freaking warm-up.  Anyway, during the second week of hell, I strained my lower back during some stupid jump-knee-slap things.  Don't you worry - I kept going.  Subsequently, I had to ice my back and take lots of ibuprofen.  Repeatedly.

Monday I was playing basketball against the high schoolers, when, during the first play of the scrimmage, I expertly missed a shot from 3 feet away, tried to correct my mistake by jumping and reaching over Jodi Walker's back, and landed on her foot.  This is the end result:

There.  It's true, isn't it?  My life is officially over.  Anything good that was ever going to happen, has already happened.  It's shades of grey from here on out.  I don't sleep as well as I used to.  I have permanent creases (CREASES!!!) between my eyebrows and in my forehead (no more facial expressions, ever).  I have no boobs (still - not sure what this has to do with anything, but just thought I'd throw that out there).  My back, shoulder, and ankle hurt.  Things that didn't used to affect me, now affect me.  Negatively.  Bleacher seats are torture.  I wear polyester.  I think my earlobes have gotten longer.  I have sun spots.  I have the desire to own many, many cats.  I have to squint to see my 58" TV from 5 feet away.  I desire sweets.  I have cankles.  I am constantly saying, "what?" because I can't hear a darn thing.  Maybe it's too much wax?  I might as well go check into the nursing home and call it a day.  Sigh.  I think I'll go sit in my recliner with my bifocals and watch MASH.  Or I Love Lucy.  (Those are the oldest shows I can think of...)

* It must be noted that while author of post may truly believe her life is over, she is mostly kidding.  She actually even thinks 30!! will be much better than 20...(Man I was a moron back then (was being the operative word, here).  Here's to the many kick @$$ years yet to come!!!  :)