Wednesday Photo Spam

Just a few recent photos off my phone to brighten up an otherwise dull Wednesday. 

Chihuahua Nonsense

Huge moth by the front door

Me and my friend Drea enjoying her pool

I've seen this truck a couple times on my way to work and it never fails to make me laugh. The tailgate says "South Cali Grown". 

And finally, my little pet mouse Marty.

Hope everyone has an awesome Wednesday! 

Irrational Annoyances

     The older I get, the longer the list of things that irrationally annoy me gets. Now, irrational annoyances are different than things that you think need to be changed for the world to move forward. I hate sexism, racism, animal cruelty, poverty, and the deplorable way America cares for veterans and the homeless. Those don't make this list because they are so incredibly important. No, irrational annoyances are things that you find annoying that other people may love or do or just be ambivalent about. 
     Like anything else of this nature, irrational annoyances tend to cause some difference of opinion between people, but since this is my blog, and only about three people actually ever look at it, I figure I can list them here without causing too much offense. Here they are, in no particular order:

1. The Red Hot Chili Peppers 
2. America's obsession with bacon
3. People who don't use their turn signals
4. Television shows where a schlumpy dumb creep is married to a smart babe (that's not a real thing guys)
5. Health food nuts who are so fervent they can't relax and eat a candy bar once in awhile
6. Raw onions in breakfast foods
7. People who eat gluten-free but don't have Celiac's disease
8. Advertisements that are simply a mostly naked woman holding/eating/using the product (I know sex sells, but come on. At least have a little more imagination than that)
9. People who text back one word answers when you just sent them a paragraph about something
10. People who don't like Christmas music (Scrooges!) 
11. People who take longer than a minute or so to order in a drive-thru line
12. The Foo Fighters
13. Little kids who run around loose in a restaurant (control your spawn!)
14. Creamy peanut butter (what is the point??)
15. Cars with bumper stickers that I disagree with (I know, I know, I know. This is SO irrational. Obviously your bumper stickers can say whatever you want. I just get SO annoyed when I see one that I blatantly disagree with)
16. People who don't floss
17. People who say "go down to LA" when LA is totally north of where we are
18. People who don't cover their mouths/noses when they sneeze
19. Oreos 
20. Commercials where kids talk to the camera like adults
21. People who are proud of how they "don't read much"

Anybody disagree? Anybody have any irrational annoyances that I missed? 

You know you have some...

Exciting News!

     It's been a long time, but I have some exciting news. It's been a busy past couple months. I applied for grad school at my alma mater, Northern Arizona University, and got in. I also applied for a graduate teaching position and was selected. This means that in addition to going to classes, I'll be teaching a class of undergrad freshman English 105 (a basic English class required for all freshman). For this, I'm getting paid, and I'm also getting 100% of my tuition waived which is the greatest part of all! So, in late July, I'll be moving back up back to my beloved Flagstaff, taking my fur child with me, of course.

     Life is good.

Thankfulness

A woman and her son were in line in front of me at CVS. Her total ended up being $20.09. She only had $20 with her but told the lady that she was sure she had change in her car. I was in a bit of a hurry so I handed her a dime. She looked at me like she couldn't believe it. She said "Thank you! God bless you. Happy Thanksgiving." I've never seen someone so grateful for 10 cents in my life. 

I complain a lot. I never feel like I have enough money for all the traveling I want to do and all the fun I want to have. But by the grace of life, fate, God, or what have you, I have never been grateful to the point of tears for 10 cents. I am so blessed. I have been given such a beautiful, wonderful, easy life, even if it doesn't always feel that way. I'm a lucky lucky girl.

Excuses, excuses

     It's been a long time since I wrote anything here, but frankly it's been a long time since I wrote anything at all. My grandma passed away just over a month ago now, and then two weeks ago, my beloved pet rat Johnny Winter passed away. In case, those two things weren't enough, I've been having a lot of issues at work with my boss which are too upsetting to even talk about here, and I've been sick. So excuses, excuses, excuses, but they all feel pretty valid to me.
     It already feels like summer here in Southern California, even if spring isn't officially over yet. I'm definitely crossing my fingers that it'll be a better summer than this spring was. In the interest of trying to be proactive, I'm setting a few summer goals:

1. Blog: I'm going to try and get back to blogging regularly, well, as regularly as I ever blog.
2. Exercise: I need to start doing something physically active everyday, even if it's just walking the dog after dinner.
3. Longboard: My beloved boyfriend bought me a longboard (his passion is downhill speed boarding) and I am going to teach myself to ride, so we can cruise around the beach or the neighborhood together.
4. Read: I have to read more. I spend far too much time watching Netflix or screwing around on the Internet.
5. Diet: Not a diet to lose weight, but a diet to be healthier. I eat pretty well already, but I know I'll feel better if I start eating a little less processed crap and a little more fruit and veggies.
   
     Happy Summer (or end of Spring)!

Grandma Katie

     So this past weekend, I went to my grandma's funeral. She was my last living grandparent and that made it all the more of a bitter pill to swallow. We've never had what could be described as a great relationship, but I loved her dearly, and I know she felt the same about me. I was surprised how upset I was at her actual funeral. I had written an homage to her, but was crying so hard I couldn't even talk. Needless to say, I didn't stand up to read it. I think more than anything, I felt like part of my childhood died too. Whenever we went back to Minnesota to visit, we always stayed in her basement. Now, not only is she not around, but her house is being emptied, her possessions sold, and we will never again spend two weeks ever summer in the same house I've been coming to for 23 years.
     So here it is, my final homage to my last grandparent and what I see as the closing lines of the chapter of my childhood:

For C.C.N. From A.C.N.

Stephen S. Wise wrote “An unshared life is not living. He who shares does not lessen, but greaten his life.” My Grandma Katie always knew how to share her life with the people around her. She wrote letters, played piano in nursing homes, went to church, was a substitute teacher, travelled all over, made friends with her neighbors, and sent Christmas cards out by the dozens.
As one of her grandchildren, I was often portrayed on these cards when I was young, usually in snowy day clothes and always in the company of my cousins Christine and Emily, multiple cats, and the words of whatever song or poem caught Grandma’s eye that year. Being rendered in pen and ink and having it mailed out in a card thrilled me at that age. Consequently, Grandma’s cards made a big impression on me from the time I was very young and became an integral part of the holiday season for me. It’s strange and sad to think that we won’t be getting a Christmas card from St. Louis Park this year, but the last time I saw Grandma, about a month ago, she shared something with me that’ll make this Christmas a little easier.
Sitting in her living room, she told me, “I like the song “Forever Young” by Bob Dylan. I don’t like the music and I don’t really like him, but I like how it rhymes and I like the sentiment. I was going to put it in this year’s Christmas card, with at least two cats, maybe three. So if I don’t do a Christmas card this year, well then you’ll know what it was going to be.” 
Now I don’t know what part of that song she was planning on including, but the last verse is what has always given me the most comfort when times get tough.

May your hands always be busy 
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation 
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful 
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
May you stay forever young.

The Truth Comes Out

     I feel like most people had their roughest patch in middle school, or junior high, or high school. Not me. My roughest patch started my second semester of college and guys, it's STILL going on. I'm 23 years old, I'll be 24 in July, and I'm still waking up most mornings feeling like complete shit.
     I feel like there's two big factors in my rough patch. The first is major depression and anxiety. I've tried most medications out there in different doses and different combinations and the only thing they all had in common was making me feel like a hollow, unemotional shell. Yeah, the utterly hopeless feeling and crippling anxiety were gone, but they left me feeling like someone else entirely. In my opinion, it wasn't worth the tradeoff. If you have never been depressed, and I mean really depressed not just a case of the blues, consider yourself incredibly lucky. We all have a cross or two to bear and while it's an aspect of the human condition to think that the burden we bear is heavier than someone else's, I know that there is worse baggage to drag around. So yes, while depression and anxiety are my burdens and they aren't something I'd wish on my worst enemy, I recognize that they aren't the worst things out there. Even more importantly perhaps, I know that these issues will be with me for the rest of my life and that they are something I'm going to have to learn to deal with and accept and until I do, I won't be truly happy. The second factor? The factor that is making it so difficult for me to accept my anxiety and depression? The factor that is making my daily case of the "mean reds"* so utterly unbearable?
     I don't love myself. Hell, I don't even like me.
     Even seeing it written there seems silly and immature. That's how deep this goes. I can't even admit an honest truth about myself without putting myself down about it, about the validity of what I'm feeling. My best friend in the entire world told me the other day that she thinks she's "a total badass" and that even though she has moments of self-doubt, they are tempered with moments of total acceptance and love for herself. She is truly a complete and total badass through and through, so I can see how she feels that way, but I can't help but wonder where she found that acceptance of herself? There are a lot of redeeming qualities to me and there are things that I've done that I'm really proud of and aspects of my personality that I find charming in other people, so why is it that I can't even like myself? How did my friend manage to turn her accomplishments and personality traits into self-love?
    I don't know. I don't think it's something that can be explained, certainly not explained by someone who possesses no self-love of their own. All I know is, that I won't get over my rough patch and into the next stage of my life until I learn to love me. All my life, I've looked for self-validation from others, from my parents, teachers, grades, and men. Mostly men. I've had some rotten relationships. I've been cheated on and, physically, emotionally, and verbally abused more times than I can count. I rely on men to tell me I'm pretty or smart or funny or that they can't live without me because I can't live with me.
     My new boyfriend is really great. He is the kindest man I've been with and he treats me so well. We have fun together and even though it's early in the relationship, I see potential for something more there. That something more? It's never going to happen with him or anyone else until I learn to love myself, or at least like myself. I wrote some resolutions down at the beginning of the year. Most of them, I haven't stuck to very well but that's okay. That's okay, because my biggest resolution for the month, for the year, for the rest of my life is to learn to love me.

* This is from Breakfast at Tiffany's. If you haven't seen it or don't remember what the "mean reds" are, go here: http://movieclips.com/AEsN-breakfast-at-tiffanys-movie-the-mean-reds/ and watch immediately.

Rape, rape, rape

    I spend some effort on this blog, trying to be funny or at least witty in most of my posts. I have one small slice of humor today and then I have some serious shit to discuss. Everyone's heard the saying "get off your high horse"? I actually have named my high horse that I frequently get up on. Until recently, his name was Silver, it's been changed to Branson because... Downton Abbey. Yup. End humor here.
     Today, I'm getting up on Branson and riding until I am blue in the face. Why? The Steubenville rape trial. You should know all about this. If you don't, inform yourself. Seriously.
     What is almost as terrible as all the horrifying, terrifying, monstrous things that were done to this girl? Branson and I have a few ideas... How about the way that 21st century media still views rape? How about the way Fox News actually blurted the name of the rape victim out on TV? How about the way CNN called the rapists "promising young students"? How about the way NBC News laments the boys "promising football careers? How about the way USA Today (that flaming rag) stresses that the victim was drunk? How about the way ABC News makes excuses for their behavior?  You want some personal experience, some anecdotes from my own life? How about the way that when I went off to college at 18, I was told "how not to get raped"? How about one night, out at the bars, when I wore low cut shirt, I had someone tell me I was "asking to get fucked"? How about how one of my closest friends in college woke up with her car in a ditch and no memory of the night because she let a guy buy her a drink and got drugged?
     Just when did people stop seeing women as the victims and start blaming the women themselves for being raped? When did we stop teaching our men not to rape women and start teaching our women not to get raped? Something is seriously wrong here. Rape is never okay. Ever. A woman should be able to be passed out in the corner of a bar totally naked with no friends and no one should touch her in that way. No one. Is this type of behavior totally stupid? Oh hell yes. But does stupidity justify rape? Never. Never ever. NEVER EVER EVER.
     Telling women not to get passed out drunk in public, not to take their eyes off their drinks, not to go home with someone you don't know is all probably good life advice. Even if every parent teaches their son that rape is wrong, no matter the circumstances, there's always going to be a loony or two out there and the usual slew of truly evil people. These boys in Ohio weren't the criminal element, they played football on their high school team. So why did they rape this girl? People's motivations are hard to figure out. We may never know why. Honestly, it was probably just a bad decision compounded by alcohol and peer pressure.
     The even bigger, more important question in my mind though, is why is the media and society as a whole excusing rape by blaming the behavior of the victim? When someone's house is broken into, no one says, "well they shouldn't have had anything worth taking". When someone's car is stolen, no one says "that's what you get for owning a nice car". When a person is murdered, no one says "they should have known better". Why is rape different? Why is everyone feeling sorry for these sad, stupid assholes? They raped a girl. Her life will never be the same and they did it.
     I know I'm putting my foot in my mouth here, but I feel like it has a lot to do with society's willingness to "let boys be boys"and forgive all manner of sins "because they can't help themselves". How is this even an excuse? Scientifically, does testosterone make you want to have more sex, more often? Yes. But is that an excuse for rape? No! Not to be too crude or indelicate here, but there's probably a girl at your school who wouldn't mind sleeping with you, or there's always a prostitute, or YOUR HAND. Why does a man's inability to control himself make raping a woman okay? WHY?
     Women, we need to fix this. We're being let down by everyone. Let down by poor parenting, let down by the media, let down by society, but more than anything, let down by the men who are committing this kind of act because they've been brought up in this society of rape apologists and they know that there will always be some asshole around trying to blame a girl instead of her rapist.
     Rant over. Alex and Branson out.

Grad School

     I've been looking at going back to school sometime soon, maybe even as soon as the fall semester. In addition to figuring out where the heck I want to go, I'm trying to figure out what the heck I want my Master's in which is more important right now than figuring out where I want to get it from. I'm considering Creative Writing, but I'm also looking at Museum Studies, English Literature, History (probably sometime in the European Renaissance), and maybe even Art History. So many choices! I just can't seem to narrow down what I really want to do with my life. It all sounds like so much fun to me. I'd love to spend my days writing short stories or novels, or reading classic literature, or examining Van Gogh paintings for symbolism, or reading about the inner workings of the Catholic Church during the Italian Renaissance. How can I decide which one to pursue? Is there any way to know which one will make me the happiest in the long run? I know that I can always be a lifelong student and continue to get degrees, but grad school is a hefty chunk of cash and if I'm going to invest that kind of money at this stage of my life, I have to seriously consider what it is that I want to do with at least this first part of my life. 

     I feel like lately everything has been one big life decision after another. However, I have to remember:

Damn you iPhone!

     Guys, I have a problem. I am a self-admitted over-communicator when it comes to friends and even more so, boyfriends. My iPhone has only made the problem 1000% worse because I have instant access to Facebook and other social media like that. Friends either ignore a lot of it or laugh it off, but it's usually a different story with boyfriends. That's why I always try and police how much I text (my communication drug of choice) boyfriends, especially new ones which is when the urge is the strongest. While I'm really good at policing how much I actually send, I'm not good at policing how much I check my own phone or even more, how much I wish there was something on that phone when I check it. It doesn't help that at work all day, I need to have my phone close by me so that I can talk to my boss and the other employees. If I didn't, I'd just leave it on silent in my bag for a few hours during the day.
     It's always a challenge to feel out a new relationship, and as good as this one is, there's still a transition period. I've been doing really well in this one about not texting too often, and better than normal with how much I check my phone. In some ways, I'm enjoying fewer texts, as they leave more time for me in my own day where I can focus on what I'm doing. The key for me is stop second-guessing the reasons behind the fewer texts and take them at face value. I'm still having leftover trust issues from the last relationship and in my mind, lots of messages has always equaled thinking of only you. That's just not the case and that's something I need to remind myself of every day. I've had cheating exes who texted me constantly, including while they were with the other girl! If your guy isn't texting you, it's because he's sleeping or working or eating or playing with his dogs or skating (usually this is what my guy is up to) or with his friends or cooking food or just not checking his phone every 2.5 seconds like you.
    I just have to remind myself of this and put the phone down. It'll be better for the relationship and ultimately better for myself and my own self-reliance, not to mention sanity. Just put the iPhone down Alex.

Changing Plans

     Life's a funny thing. You think you've got it all figured out and all your plans made when suddenly, everything changes. In this case, it's something really good, but it doesn't make my life any easier. You see, I met this guy, the guy I've previously gushed about. This guy, he's just great and things are just easy. He's handsome and funny and smart and he thinks I'm something special. You guys, I had my plans made, my boxes packed, and my heart set aside until I got to Minnesota. And now, here's this guy, upsetting everything, making me like him with his kindness and his humor and his lopsided smile. My heart is reeling with confusion and delight and worry.
     You see, we're good together. We just work in spite of all our differences in politics, and religion, and past experiences. He doesn't see me as broken, or damaged, or screwed up. I don't see him for the mistakes he's made. We both have our pasts but they don't matter, not at all. There's a lightness of being when we're together and I feel like I'm holding onto it with both hands.
     So what do I do? Do I go to Minnesota like I planned or do I keep holding on to this great relationship, even if it's just starting out? I know that Minnesota isn't going anywhere, and I can always go at a later date, but I feel like I'm at a crossroads of sorts. I'm sick of living in limbo. I need to make a decision and get busy living with it whether it be here or halfway across the country. I feel like I already  know what I'm going to do, but I don't know if it's the right thing. I don't want to throw this new relationship away in spite of all the things that could go wrong. But is this the right call? Should I give up one dream, living in Minnesota, for another, a wonderful, happy, healthy relationship?

     I really wish I had the answer to this one guys.

Little Things

     Guys, I have horrible anxiety, like just awful. My anxiety attacks start with nausea, follow up with an insatiable urge to scratch different parts of my bare skin until they bleed (attractive I know), then proceed to hyperventilation and often tears. The worst part is that it doesn't take much to set them off. More often then not, I wake up with a kind of sick feeling and by the time I'm driving to work, I'm in full on anxiety attack mode.

     So, the point of this post was not to tell you about my screwiness, but about my favorite thing to do when I'm post-anxiety attack and looking for a way to calm myself down (nothing helps during). This is also a good thing to do if you're having an especially crummy day or just need a pick me up. I make myself a cup of tea, grab a piece of candy (usually chocolate) and make a list in my head of all the little things in my life that make me happy. Here's my list for today:

1. Flirty text messages with this fellow I'm crushing on

2. Teaching myself something new without bragging to the whole world about it (I'd tell you what I'm currently learning to do, but that would defeat the whole purpose)

3. Puppy kisses

4. Ex-boyfriends growing truly hideous facial hair (I'm talking pedophile status mustache here) that makes me laugh

5. Spaghetti marinara with extra parmesan cheese for lunch

6. Solving a problem at work that was really weighing me down 

     It's a little list and it's a simple list, but these are the 6 things that are making my day a little bit brighter in spite of my anxiety. 

Trust

Note: This all comes from the perspective of someone who was lied to and cheated on by their significant other, NOT the point of view of liar/cheater. There's a different story to be told there.

     With time comes clarity and with clarity comes some uncomfortable truths about previous relationships. Probably the most uncomfortable truth of all comes in the form of trust. You had a relationship with someone to whom you gave your heart and soul, you presumed they did the same, and hell maybe they actually did. At some point, they cheated. They cheated, they lied, and you and your heart got screwed. The relationship ended. Now, you're trying to forge ahead with your life and you're left facing one cold hard fact: you didn't know this person as well as you thought.
     Whether it took 5 months or 5 years, at some point in the relationship you were sure you had the other person all figured out, backwards and forwards, left and right, up and down. You started to take things for granted, like faithfulness and honesty, not because you didn't appreciate these qualities in your lover, but because you assumed they would always be there because you thought you knew them. Oh he'd never cheat on me, he's too good of a person for that. She'd never lie about that, she respects me more than that. Then of course, it all goes to hell, and the person reveals themselves to be not what you thought.
     How do you move on, not from the relationship itself, but from the idea that this person you thought you knew so well, did things you could never conceive of them doing? Even more importantly, how do you trust someone new? You thought you knew this lover so well and it turns out you didn't. Who's to say that the next one will be any different?
     Want to know a secret? I don't have a good answer. The only way to trust someone new, is to let yourself... to believe that this person will be different and remind yourself not to lug your towering pile of trust issues through the front door with you every time you see them. As they say, "don't blame a new love for things an old one did" or as Will Smith so poetically puts it "ain't no pain like from the opposite sex, just remember son, don't take it out on the next".
     It's hard to trust again after heartbreak. It's immensely hard, but it's something that you have to do. Being open to heartbreak means being open to love and if you've chosen the new person with care and good sense, maybe this time, they won't let you down.

Baggage

     I had a date last night, and man, what a great date it was. In the interest of privacy, I won't go into much more detail but suffice it to say it was one of the best first dates I've ever been on. What made it so great (in addition of course to his amazing personality, good looks, humor, and the rampant chemistry)? NO BAGGAGE. I feel like the past year and a half was just a constant rehashing of drama and baggage and old news that I'd been through before so many times.
     This guy and I knew each other in high school, but we weren't friends at all really, more like friendly acquaintances. I can be honest with him about my past, but there's nothing in it having to do with him. He's a totally blank page and our "history" with each other is basically a blank page too with a few minor bullet points that only make for something to talk about. No one is hurting or holding grudges or remembering past mistakes.
     Obviously all of this is a big duh for people who never go back to exes and never date friends of ex-lovers or any of that. Sadly, I've always been one of those people who goes back to exes and dates groups of friends. This is different for me. This is such a great different for me. Driving to work today, I had the biggest grin on my face. The grin came from two places, first, the excitement of meeting and spending time with someone who makes you happy, and second, the happiness that comes from knowing that you aren't your past and you aren't the mistakes you've made.

Big Changes

     I had a feeling that 2013 would be a year of big changes, and it hasn't proven me wrong yet. In the 21 days since the new year started, I have:

- broken up with my boyfriend

- moved out of the apartment we shared

- moved back home with my parents

- decided I am moving to Minnesota in June

That's a lot of moving on, moving out, and moving away.

     The boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now, and I broke up for a hundred different reasons. The main ones? He told me for a year and 3 months that he would move to Minnesota with me. He told me 4 days before Christmas, that he had changed his mind and that if we wanted to stay together, I would have to stay in my teeny-tiny hometown. A week into the new year, after I told him that I would stay with him in our hometown, he told me that he was moving into his Grandma's old (crappy, crummy, disgusting, with NO HEAT) house and that if I wanted to live with him, I had to move in to. Or we could live separately and "still date". I countered that by telling him if I agreed to move in there, I wanted to do it as his fiancee. 

     Long story short, there is no ring on my finger. The sad truth is, he didn't want to marry me. Hell, he didn't want to date me anymore, which must be blatantly obvious to you after reading all of the above, but was sadly not so obvious to me. The thing is, he was just not that into me. Oof. It hurts me still, just to read that sentence. And the thing is, I really miss him. Not the lover side of him, which frankly wasn't that great to start with, but the friend side of him. In the past 21 days, I've lost my lover and my best friend. 

     The other decisions come from that one. I'm moving out and moving home because I obviously am not going to live with him, and I'd like to save some money before I make the big move to MN, which I'm apparently making alone. Alone. ALONE.

     It's still sinking in.

Remembrances and Resolutions

So today I'm both reflecting on the notable highlights from my past year, and compiling a list of resolutions for 2013. First, the fun of 2012:

1. GISHWHES.
     If you don't know who Misha Collins is, please google him immediately then fall deeply in love with those bluest of blue eyes. Ahem. Allow me to interrupt your drooling for a second. In addition to be an incredible looking fellow and a good actor, he is also a decent human being. He created a charity called Random Acts of Kindness which encourages people to commit random acts of kindness in their own communities. The charity at large, raises money so they can go commit larger acts of kindness, like building houses for people in Haiti, still dealing with the fallout from the hurricane several years ago. He also is Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. And that's where we get to GISHWHES. GISHWHES stands for Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen, and this year, along with the boyfriend, one of my closest girl friends, her husband and extended family, and some random Scots and a Spaniard, I partook. GISHWHES' motto is "Death to Normalcy!" with a second emphasis on finding art in everyday life, and a third emphasis on random acts of kindness. A selection of the random things I did: made a pledge to commit a random act of kindness before the end of 2012, made a Jello snow angel on my kitchen floor, made an outfit made out of 21 different pieces of material and stood at "attention" outside the local post office, dressed up in only kitchen items and had a mock kitchen gear battle with my girl friend Drea, and perhaps my favorite, wore a dress made entirely of cheese and posed in front of a 1979 Lotus.
     GISHWHES was an utterly fabulous experience. It brought me out of my shell to a greater extent than I have been in a long time, and reminded me just how little I care what people think. I highly recommend participating in GISHWHES to everyone. And oh yeah, did I mention that the winning team gets a 3 night trip to Scotland to stay in a haunted castle with the inestimable Misha? My team didn't win (grrr...) but I have high hopes for next year.

2. The Tinsel Triathlon.
     I ran cross country and track in high school. My dad is a outside sales rep for a major bike company. When I was little I took swimming lessons, and was on the local swim team in middle school. So how is it that I never did a triathlon before this year? I finally changed that this month. I ran 3.1 miles, then biked 12 miles, then swam 150 meters. It only took me an hour and 21 minutes, and I was tenth in my age group and 383rd overall (out of about 800).
     Will I ever do another one? Hell yes! I have caught the tri bug now. I got such a sense of accomplishment from finishing this one, that I can't wait for my next one!

3. No Car Accidents.
     Yes indeed, this year there were ZERO car accidents for Alex which is a marked improvement over previous years. Perhaps I've finally become the sort of driver that my parents always dreamed I would be.

4. Formula Ford Race.
     The boyfriend races Formula Ford race cars and this year, November actually, marked the first time that he's raced since we've been together. I have a lot of misgivings about the whole racing thing, mostly because of the danger involved (shudder) but also because of the pile of money that he drops every time he goes to the track. However, I sucked those up and rode out with his family to Desert Center, CA (we stayed in Palm Desert, near Palm Springs) and watched my fellow race. Well, he's pretty good. Pretty damn good. He won both days and set a new track record for his type of car. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would, partially because of the people he pits with and partially because it's always fun to see someone you love kick some serious butt.

5. My Family.
     I have the greatest family ever, both extended (see experience 6) and immediate. It's just my mom, my dad, and me in my immediate family but I can't imagine anything different. My mom is my best friend on the planet and my dad couldn't be a better father. They make every year awesome, and 2012 was no exception.

6. The Annual Minnesota Vacation.
     In 2011, we didn't go back to see our extended family in Minnesota, mostly because I couldn't get the time off work. I took 10 days off in late August/early September and we escaped to the beloved homeland. My cousins kick butt, you guys. Especially my cousin who is a year or so younger than me. She absolutely rocks. I have no siblings, so having a cousin that's almost a sister is bliss.
     Minnesota itself? Brilliant. Make all the jokes you want (and don't you dare say Minn-e-soo-ta in that hateful way), but it's a pretty forward thinking place. Just this past year, they struck down two laws, one of which would make same-sex marriage illegal and one that would require I.D. when voting. They are way into progressive thinking out there. It's also gorgeous x10,000 and Minneapolis/St. Paul has a pretty fly music/art/theatre scene.

7. Supernatural Con.
     My best girl friend, her sister-in-law, and her nieces, all of whom I also did GISHWHES with, and I went to Dallas for a Supernatural Convention. Yup, the show Supernatural. I'm a little bit obsessed, especially with the older seasons, and we had an awesome weekend full of booze and dishy men. I got to put my arm around Mark Sheppard (Firefly, Warehouse 13, Doctor Who, and of course Supernatural) and Sebastian Roche (yum yum!). I met Mark Pellegrino (who told me I was "really pretty") and had a drink with Richard Speight Jr. (Band of Brothers anyone?). Misha Collins couldn't make it because his wife was having a baby (pssshhh...) but other than that, the weekend was pure perfection.

8. Learning to Sew.
     So for Christmas, my mom got me a sewing machine. You guys, I'm already sewing up a storm. It may make me sound like Ma Ingalls (Little House book series anyone?) but I can't wait to start making clothes for myself.


Resolutions for 2013:
1. Take more photos.
     I don't have nearly enough photos of 2012.
2. Run a half-marathon.
     I already signed up for one on May 5th.
3. Get healthier.
     Yeah, yeah, yeah. I don't have a real issue with how much I weigh, but I do need to start eating less crap food. You get out of your body what you put in.
4. Blog more.
5. Write more.
     I want to finish my novel that I've started and I want to submit some of my writing for publication.

Happy New Year (almost) everyone!

Legends in Our Own Minds

We all think we’re the heroes of our own stories. Some of us even think we’re the heroes of everyone else’s too. Regardless, we inherently see things from our own perspective. It’s like the age old joke about the actor who is cast as the gravedigger in Hamlet. He tells his wife that he got the role and she asks “What’s it about?”. He replies, “It’s about a gravedigger who meets a prince.” 

It’s human nature to focus on oneself, there’s no denying that. But what if we aren’t the hero of our own story at all? What if we’re the villain? What if the reader sees us, not as the plucky, though morally loose heroine, but instead as the scheming slut who seduces men, uses, then discards them? What if instead of the still hopelessly, sweetly lovelorn ex-fiancé, we’re the psychotic stalker, set on ruining life for the poor new lover? What if we aren’t the bold, brave hero striking off into the wilderness, hoping to “connect” with nature, but the dummy who gets lost in the woods and needs a rescue team to get him out? 

You shouldn’t ever worry about how others may see you or your actions, and that’s certainly not the point I’m trying to make with the post. With that being said, however, perhaps if we do or say something that gives us pause and makes us wonder what others might think, there might be a reason for that momentary hesitation. While the opinions of others shouldn’t consume us, when it comes to decision making, the reactions we expect from others can often be a good gauge of whether we ourselves are making a decision that may or may not come back to bite us! Hopefully this quick skip in our confidence can make us stop, even just for a second, and reevaluate what exactly we’re doing, and either reconsider our course of action or forge boldly ahead!

Warning: the next paragraph is somewhat of a rant about fiction writing and should be taken with a grain of salt and a sense of humor, or otherwise ignored.

On another totally related note, this consideration should also be used in creative writing. I’ve read far too many amateur pieces where you are expected to feel camaraderie or sympathy with a main character who is utterly unlovable. Just because the experiences and reactions may have been true to life does not mean they need to be recreated verbatim in your creative fiction. Those hookups that may have seemed so cool when you were in them? Well, they really make your leading lady look a *ahem* eager to please. Keep them in if that’s what your going for, but if not, use that handy pause that our consideration of the opinions of society gives us, and maybe consider a rewrite. 

Imagination vs. Real Life

For Jim Longworth, Don Epps, Fox Mulder, and Seeley Booth

I’ve never been very good at living in the real world. I mean, I am a productive member of society. I work, I pay my taxes, I shop for groceries, I have a stable adult relationship… but I get lost in my own head, in my own little world. I have a lot of down time at work and in that down time I read or watch Netflix. I get so into those shows, or movies, or novels, that I have a lot of trouble separating myself from them. For instance, I cried throughout the last half of the 7^th Harry Potter book. Not a big shocker really, but it affected me so deeply that I felt really quite depressed for a week or so afterwards. I have recently gotten into the TV show “Numbers” and if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. Last night, I had a dream about Don Epps, who, for those of you who aren’t obsessed like me, is a FBI agent. It was a full on fantasy about him and I being in a relationship and working out some problems we’d been having lately. Weird right? The sad part is, that I felt so much happier in that dream than I’ve felt lately in real life. And yes, this does mean that I’m watching way too much “Numbers” recently and it’s time to get into something else, but I’ve had this happen before (see the dedication at the top of this post). I keep crushing on these men who are real in body, but whose characters and lives are totally made up for the boob tube.

I was feeling really low and embarrassed about this realization, until I started to consider my reasons behind these crushes. These men are not perfect (though they all have perfect looks), but their lives are exciting and complex and so much less “real” than my own. They don’t fight with me about doing dishes, or complain about cleaning out the cat box, or have bad breath when they kiss you in the middle of the night. That’s why these men are so appealing! They are hunky, successful, smart, bad-boys who defeat bad guys, and above all a mere creation of someone’s mind! If I were to go out with Fox Mulder (assuming he was real), he would be so obsessed with aliens and his sister’s disappearance that he wouldn’t care about what weird come-ons a guy tried on my today or how my knee is feeling after I twisted it last week. If Seeley Booth or Jim Longworth were my guys, I’d never see them because they’d always be off working with some gorgeous babe who I would be incredibly jealous of. If Don Epps was my boyfriend, he would probably compare my cooking to his mother’s and leave his shoes everywhere. My point is that these crushes are harmless and totally understandable, but I do have to be careful to keep things in perspective and not let my imagination run too far from real life. These crushes bring a smile to my face, and good dreams to my nights and that makes them important, but I have to remember to not let them become so important or desirable that they interfere with my reality. If they were real guys, they would have just as many annoying quirks as anybody else, and probably more.

Hm… on second thought, I could probably deal with Don’s messy habits and mother comparisons if I got to make out with that gorgeous face every night.  

Lemmings...

So my dear friend Karen recently wrote on her blog about how loathe she is to follow the crowd (check out her blog! http://karen-christina.blogspot.com/). I totally agree with her! She used the term "sheeple", which I love, though I also think of lemmings. So often we are lemmings in so many ways... just look at Twilight, Avatar, Pintrest, Hunger Games, moccasins, and Louis Vuitton. Being a lemming is rarely admirable, but I have a HUGE exception. KONY 2012. Yup. All over the Internet, blowing up youtube. Be a lemming. Seriously. Watch the video and make Joseph Kony the most famous man in the world. The more famous he is, the more people will care and cry out for justice. You watching this video, and sharing this video, and signing the pledge, and above all calling/writing/facebooking/tweeting your leaders and your celebrities will help take him down. The contingent of men and women the United States sent over in 2011, can't remain their without the support of the American people. This force is vital in training and helping the Ugandan military find Kony.

Brad Pitt who? Kim Kardashian who? I want the name on everyone's lips to be Joseph Kony. Here's the link to the youtube video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4MnpzG5Sqc

Here's the link to the website:

http://s3.amazonaws.com/kony2012/kony-4.html

C'mon... be a lemming with me. As Margaret Mead said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."

wedding bells!

         The wedding bells have been ringing all around me lately! One friend was married in the fall, another is getting married later this week, and two more are getting married in the next two months! I'm trying to be in the wedding spirit, but I must admit to being a little shocked that they're all getting married so young! I'm twenty-two and I while the fellow and I have discussed marriage, engagements, etc., I'm not so sure I'm ready yet, particularly since we already live together. About a year ago, before the fellow and I reconnected, I wrote a short essay for my writing group entitled "The ONE". I'm putting it up here. It's very tongue in cheek so it should be read with a sense of humor!

The ONE

It seems like everyONE finds the ONE at the same time. So when is it my turn to find the ONE with everyONE else? What if there is no ONE? No ONE person for me, literally no ONE to be my ONE. EveryONE and their ONE are out looking at engagement rings and picking out colors. If not this, then merely delighting in being with the ONE they love. People who said they never cared about finding the ONE, much less marrying the ONE if he/she could be found are tasting cakes and sending me gushing text messages about bridesmaid dresses. Even those ONES who stick to their scruples and are opting for the increasingly traditional, non-legally binding commitment of living together forever have found the ONE and are sure that no ONE will ever separate them from their ONE. The ONE person they are supposed to spend forever with.

How is it that I feel like an old maid at twenty-two?

ONE friend who recently found the ONE told me that I should request the ONE from the universe, as if I am in a restaurant and the universe is the short order cook. “Hello. I’d like ONE vegan with blue eyes and a dazzling smile, extra brains, hold the immaturity, with a side of commitment please.” Yeah right. I’ve tried it. I’ve lain there at night in bed and said, “Please. I am ready to find the ONE. You know what I want. Please send him now.” When the ONE did not magically arrive, I lamented to the friend. The friend insisted that I was not being specific enough.

Patty Stanger is the Millionaire Matchmaker. She insists that she has an eye for the right chemistry and is an expert at helping people find the ONE. She gives advice to her clients telling them to make a list of five non-negotiables. Alright Patty, you’re on.

1. Brains. I am a snob. I admit it. I want the ONE to have brains out the you-know-what. The ONE would be college-educated in both something that makes a lot of money and something that interests me. The ONE would be an engineer who makes piles of cash by day, but who has his masters in art as well. The ONE would have the cash to fly me to the Lourve and then be able to wax poetic about all the Italian Renaissance paintings in the place.
2. Babies. I hate babies. I hate what babies turn into (toddlers). I hate the idea of pushing a baby out of my body. I hate the idea of what a baby would do to my body. Not every woman needs or wants to pop a baby out every two years. The ONE would understand this. And when or if my biological clock did kick in, the ONE would change a diaper.
3. Sex. The sex has to be good. EveryONE tells you that sex is not the most important thing, that sex can always get better, that you can work on your sexual relationship as a couple. Not true. If the sex sucks from day ONE, nothing will save the relationship. The ONE would do it right. (He would also make me a snack afterwards.)
4. Looks. In order to have good sex, the ONE would have to look good. The two are not mutually exclusive. The ONE would not have to possess bulging muscles and movie star looks, but he would have to meet certain standards. The ONE is never fat. When you are a little girl, dreaming of your wedding, the ONE walking down the aisle does not have a beer gut, nor does the ONE have a receding hairline, nor does the ONE have a face that startles (other people’s) babies. The ONE cannot be unattractive.
5. Commitment. The ONE better be able to make a goddamned commitment. I do not want any wishy-washy dithering from the ONE about how he feels. After six or so dates, the ONE and I would become monogamous. After a year, the ONE would ask me to move in. After a year and a half, the ONE would propose. After two and a half years, the ONE would meet me at the end of the aisle for a wedding with all the trimmings.

I have done the math. If I meet the ONE tomorrow, I will be married just before my twenty-sixth birthday. The ONE had better get his ass in gear.

All kidding aside, I am so so so happy for my friends who are getting married and I wish them nothing but happiness, beauty, and wonderful, love-filled lives and marriages.