Today I....

Today, I:

**burnt the bottoms of our cinnamon rolls. I knew I shouldn't have sprayed the pan with Pam.

**used public transportation as a means to get to work ... for the first time ever. (and, as a result, was 15ish minutes late for work).

**began to understand why Mr. Man always talks about "women drivers." The bus driver lady gave me whiplash at every stop sign.

**wore men's deodorant. When you forget to pack your own, ya gotta do somethin'.

**missed the home Marshall game. I hear it was sucky anyway.

**drove the streets of Huntington while the Gang War is in progress. It was like a real-live video game or something.

**told a lot of people a lot of clothes were "super cute" when, in reality, I wouldn't buy it for someone I hated. Commission changes people.

**realized how much I love my own pillows. All 4,600 of them. You really understand how much you take things for granted when they're gone. I miss you, pillows. We'll reunite tomorrow.

**tweeted "please come to WV" to Heidi and Spencer. Not sure if I'd be able to have a conversation with either one of them if they did, in fact, come to WV. But I just want to see Spencer's blonde beard in person. And maybe laugh a little.

**had a lot of interesting tidbits for my "Today I..." blog, but now I can't remember any of them.

That's pretty much my day. Boring. I need sleep, and more blog topics. And a bigger following. Ugh.

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Currently

I suck at consistently posting. I really wish I could be a serial blogger, but it seems that life gets in the way a little too often. My November resolution is to write more. We'll see how long that lasts.


Sings the Magpie (my friend from J-school) introduced me to Lauren from Texas, whose blog I have fallen head over heels for. And yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition. A lot of good those 5 years of J-school did me.


Anyway. Lauren from Texas periodically posts a blog about everything she is "currently" about. And, because I love the idea, I'm borrowing it. But mosey on over to her site (after you read mine, of course) and check out her ramblings. You'll loves.


So, here's my currents for November 12, 2009. (p.s. - my answers are not necessarily what is happening at this exact moment ... its a general idea of my life)



Wearing
BKE Starlites. Every. Single. Day. It's the only pair of Buckle (where I work) jeans that I own. And although I do get a 40% discount, I'm still too poor to buy a new wardrobe. Sad, I know.

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Reading
Blogs, mostly. Magazines. And text messages, of course. But I'm also trying to find time to finish the two Jodi Picoult books I started - but I honestly can't even remember the titles. Again, sad.

Listening to
Love, love, loving the Glee soundtrack I just downloaded. It makes me want to choreograph all of my in-shower performances.

Eating
Lots and lots of bad stuff. Chick-Fil-A has become a staple since working at the mall. I really need to be more healthy - but how?

Drinking
Water, FINALLY! I am weaning myself off soda again. I once went an entire 364 days without drinking a sip of soda. But on New Year's Eve day that year, Mr. Man talked me into giving up my whole year's hiatus and I purchased and gulped down a Mt. Dew. It tasted so, so weird. I should try again next year, and maybe make it that extra day. Doubtful.

Celebrity Crush
Taylor Swift. By. Far. I feel like she could be my BFF. And I'd love to sit around and harmonize with her for a day. Is that weird?

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Obsession
America's Next Top Model. This is the first season I've even followed religiously, but I'm so addicted. I was hoping Jennifer would win, and not just because we share a ridiculously wonderful name. But, she was eliminated tonight, so now I'm rootin' for country gal Laura all the way. Who will be named Americas ..... next ...... top ..... model. The suspense.

Pet Peeve
Control freaks. Yeah, sure, I'm kind of one, myself. But - that's okay.

Coveting
Kim Kardashian's body. We have a love/hate relationship. I love to watch her TV shows on E!, but I hate her for having the body I want. Ah, to dream.

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Saving for
A car. A clunker. An engine with four wheels. Also, a place of my own. Pathetic, I know.

Hoping to
Find a new job. The Buckle ain't cuttin' it. Not only am I making pennies, but I'm completely exhausted at the end of the day - and that just isn't spectacular in my book. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind hard work and being worn out from it - I would just like to get paid accordingly. I need a big girl job ... pronto.

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What if?

We make decisions every minute, every day of our lives. Some are of much greater importance than others, but all indicative of the future.

Today, for example, I chose to look for apartments in Huntington, to which my efforts availed no positive outcome. I chose to take lemonade and crackers to work on my 4-hour shift, which resulted in me saving $5 on a drink and snack for the evening. I chose to accept my manager's request for me to work 8 am - 5 pm instead of my scheduled 3 pm - 10ish pm, which will inevitably result in my feet throbbing uncontrollably and me being so tired I'll want to come home and crash.

The decisions we make, important or irrelevant, can result in positive or negative reactions. Unfortunately for me, my terrible, irrational decision-making skills have placed me in a position today that I never thought I would be. And I wonder, what if.

So, decisions I have made that I may or may not want to change should I be given the option:

1. Cheerleading in high school. I mean, why not? Flying in the air and doing body-wrenching twists just seems uber-cool.
2. Never finishing all of my summer reading. Both of my Honors and AP English teachers in high school were killer, but I wish I would have let them challenge me instead of intimidate me. Actually reading the assigned books and 86ing the use of SparkNotes would have been ideal.
3. Getting married at 18 years old. I mean, that's a no-brainer, right?
4. Getting divorced at 20 years old. Again, a no-brainer. But, had I changed decision #3, decision #4 would be irrelevant. So much goes into these two decisions, though, that would make much more sense to a reader on the outside - but those are my problems that I have and will deal with myself.
5. Credit cards. My, my, my. How it would have changed my life not having credit cards. Debt is a four-letter word that I find appalling and sickening, but something we only get ourselves into and can only get ourselves out of. If I have any advice for young people, it's stay away from credit. What did I buy? I really have no idea.
6. Forget Journalism - something, anything else. Unless you're the editor-in-chief for National Geographic or The New York Times, print journalism is not the way to go in the 21st century. It's going digital. Unfortunately, my professors and advisor did not let me in on this little tidbit of info until I was over halfway finished with my degree - and I wasn't turning back then. Now, I can't get a job (other than in retail or food service ... which blows) and I'm basically forced to go back to school. Crappy.

I could go on and on and on and on about crappy decisions I have made, but that would just be really depressing, and I've had enough of that lately. But I can't change the past. All I can do is make the right decisions in the future, and hopefully I'll be competent and intelligent enough to discern from right and wrong, and what is good, bad, best and worst for me. If not, at least I'll have something to blog about in the years to come.

And, for the record, I hate thinking about "what if." It's pointless, discouraging and unproductive. But every now and then I like to dream. You know, about "what if" I decided to run away at 16, hitchhike to California, starve myself and become a model or actress. I'm skinny, rich, and wearing Manolos. A girl can dream.

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Reflections from the life of a great man, and hopes for MY great man

Today, I attended the funeral of a man who made an incredible impact on my life. His name is Keith, and he's walking down streets of gold, talking to my Jesus.

The first time I went out of the country, I was on a mission trip to Grenada and Anguilla (West Indies) with Keith and his wife Roberta and 9 other girls (poor Keith). On that trip, I realized a few things.

1. People in other countries do not live as freely, luxuriously as we do in America.
2. Keith and Roberta love each other more than any couple I have EVER met.
3. Some other things that didn't hold true in the following years.

We traveled within three countries for 14 days, during which Keith preached at least once daily, and had to put up with 10 females constantly.

One night during the trip, Keith and Roberta sat all nine of us chit-chatty, giddy, silly girls down to tell us about true love and what makes a relationship last a lifetime. I will never, never forget that night and what they taught us.

Love is certainly not a Cinderella story and is never a happily ever after. It takes work and dedication. It takes two people who care enough about one another to put their partner above all else, but under God. It takes looking past imperfections and loving unconditionally - even if he eats his eggs with ketchup and it grosses you out (one of Roberta's pet peeves about Keith ... which we all thought was just adorable).

Sitting in the church this afternoon watching the family nod in agreement with the preacher and occasionally wipe a tear (they were all incredibly and admirably strong), I couldn't help but be thankful it wasn't me sitting in the front row listening to funny stories about my dad who had gone to be with Jesus. Don't get me wrong - my heart breaks for Roberta and her boys, and I wish we had Keith back in full silly-guy form, with a guitar strapped over his shoulder and a goofy grin on his face.

But when things like this happen to other people, it always makes me stop and realize how easily it could be me. I can't help but be thankful that my family is healthy and happy for now. And it makes me feel incredibly guilty for how upset I have been tonight over seemingly ridiculous things.

I've cried hysterically (no joke) from making myself upset over all the things "wrong" in my life: no car, no money, no job, no apartment, and other things that make me sad to the core. I cried even harder because I can't fall asleep and Mr. Man could not make it to my house to comfort me ... and I made him mad by being upset.

 It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth getting myself so upset I'm nearly sick. It wasn't worth ticking Mr. Man off so much that he never wants to come over again. It wasn't worth being so involved in my own ridiculous problems that I forgot what Keith's family is going through tonight. The things of this world are not worth it. And in the past few years, I have forgotten what IS important.

I have also forgotten this:

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. - Romans 8:28

That's good stuff.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I am so self-centered and selfish, but I am. I hate it. There is so much more I want to be, and maybe - just maybe - if I were a little more selfLESS, a little more caring, a little more compassionate, a little less dramatic, a little less psychotic, a little more loving, a little less annoying ... I would be lovable.

The Lord loves me. I just hope someone else can, too.

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Random Thoughts for the Day

It rarely pays to be the one nice person out of the bunch.

People should be required to retake the written AND physical driving tests upon each license renewal. Too many ignorant drivers on the road.

Barbie's full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts, and I feel that it doesn't suit her at all.

I should have the new Michael Buble CD.

It's funny and actually quite intriguing how many old people are now texters-while-driving. Scary. Refer to thought No. 2.

I don't understand why my 3-year-old dog who sleeps on the floor every night is crying endlessly to get in the bed with me while my 10-month-old dog that sleeps in the bed with me every night is curled up on a blanket on the floor passing out.

I keep hearing the heat kick on, but I'm still freezing underneath these blankets. This is why I prefer summer. Heat. Warmth. All things wonderful.

Five years of my life were spent going to college for an education that would help me get a better-than-normal job and make better-than-normal money. I graduated and it's the first time in my life I can't get a job. SallieMae still expects me to pay them back for the loans. Crazy.

It is pointless and a waste of time to help someone who doesn't want to be helped.

My iPhone arrives tomorrow. And I am .... so .... excited!

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David Letterman. Why?

David Letterman. We've all heard about the scandal. Why are we still talking about it?

I get it - he's technically a celebrity, and with the job comes the invasion of privacy. It's what all the stars complain about. But, he's still human and, although it doesn't excuse his behavior, its his life.

But what really gets me is this: As I sit here watching Entertainment Tonight, which is dedicated to the Letterman do-dah and the endless Jon & Kate debate, I'm floored by the number of celebs who commend Dave for stepping out and explaining the situation.

One. Commending him? Really? He's brave for going on air to tell about his scandal? Give me a break.

Two. Why should he have to go on his show and tell the world? It's no one's business. Granted, the rumor is that his wife made him apologize multiple times on TV - probably to cause him as much embarrassment as it has her. Regardless, there is no reason he should be expected to talk publicly about his private life.

I'm celebrity-obsessed, and I'll be the first to admit it. But I do realize these people are human and have just as crazy lives (crazier, actually) as I do. I wouldn't want my business splattered all over the Internet, and they don't need theirs to be either.

Then again, I'm posting a blog about it. Hmm... maybe I'm my own opponent.

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Crying over Puffy Pretzels

Piece of advice: before you begin putting medication into your body, recommended by your trusted family doctor, do your research. Know all side effects, not only from taking the medicine, but from not taking the medicine, as well. 

As I've come to find out, it is the withdrawal that physically hurts the most. It's quite ironic that side effects from the medicine that is supposed to make me feel better are actually worse than the original symptoms. How does that work?

So, now I am crying. Constantly. Over anything and everything. If I see a baby - I cry. If I see a picture of a happy couple - I cry. If I see someone else cry - I cry. I'm watching reruns of an old season of America's Next Top Model, episodes I've seen so many times I could probably quote them. Someone gave Shandi a compliment - I cried.

Why?

This, as could be imagined, is very annoying. Not only for me, but Mr. Man, too - although I'm trying to save the tears for when he is not present.

 

However, last night, I failed. I decided to make some homemade pretzels, recipe courtesy of mi madre. When she made them - oh man, SO good. Mr. Man was in love.

Although I knew before I started that my rendition of homemade pretzels wouldn't hold a candle to momma's, I wanted to try anyway.

After letting the dough set up and double in size for almost an hour, I plunge my hands in to start forming the pretzels. 

It was like cake batter. Not a baker? Let me give you a hint: it's not supposed to look or feel like cake batter.

So, go figure, I cried ... and cried ... and cried. Mr. Man came in when he heard me sniffling. And, of course, we laughed at the dough-batter as it schlopped from my hands to the cookie sheet like poo. Yes. Very disgusting.

But, after some guidance from my mom, I added some serious flour to the dough-batter to not only keep it from conforming to my hands, but to allow me to twist it into a shape other than a blob.

In the end, I only had to throw away one batch of pretzels because they were as big as pillows. Ew. The remaining thousand that did work out weren't so bad after all. Mr. Man ate 8 of them for breakfast, so they couldn't have been too disgusting. Or maybe he was just being nice...

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