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Month: March 2010 (Page 1 of 4)

Maybe I should be a receptionist

I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately, being jobless will do that to you. Anyway, today I started taking steps to get myself out of the funk. I joined a book club and we had our first meeting this evening. It seems like a really neat bunch of girls. It’s really hard to meet 20something women and I’m really excited to see how this is going to pan out. The first book we’re reading is A Reliable Wife. It seems like it could be an interesting book, kind of a murder mystery. I’ll let you know how I like it. I’m not really worried about what book we’re reading at this point though. As much as I love Joel, I need some girl friends.

By the way, one of the girls said I look like Erin from The Office:

I guess I can see it. What do you think?

I’m awesome

Last week I started Phoebe in agility class. If you’ve never seen dogs compete in agility this is what we’re working up to:

The first dog competing is a papillon. *grin*

We’ve only taken three classes but so far she’s doing really well and I think we’re both having a lot of fun. I know I am anyway. It’s actually quite a lot of work physically, not just for the dog but for the human too. A lot of running and of course I have to be high energy all the time to encourage her. It’s a blast though.

Anyway, all of that does not explain the title of my post. Don’t worry, I’m getting there. When I take her to class I like to wear shirts that have a front pocket on them (like a hoodie) so that it’s easy to access her treats. Today we got to class early and I visited and talked with the teacher and other dog owners. Ya know, like normal. As we were walking into the ring to start class (approximately 15 minutes and five people later) I tried to put her baggy of treats into the front pocket of my shirt. I couldn’t seem to find the opening so I looked down and there was no opening because… I had my shirt on inside out. That, ladies and gentlemen is why I am awesome.

Bag Lady

Ok, I think I may have a problem.

This is really too many for two people to have, right? I mean, there’s no way we’re ever going to buy this many groceries at once. There are only two of us for heaven’s sake. Even with this many I still see ones I want to buy every once in awhile. I think it might be a sickness. Anyone else out there have an excessive amount of reusable bags? Or am I just a freaky bag lady?

Why I don’t go to Church

I used to be very involved with church. From birth to 18 I loved going to church, and some of my best and closest friends were there. I have since stopped going to church and some people wonder why.

Here is what Church has done for me:

Church used the people I loved the most and then told them they weren’t important. It drove them away because they couldn’t commit several more days a week to being there.

Church enslaved my husband for years by giving him false promise after false promise that eventually he would be paid a living wage. You would be shocked how little you can live on. It kept him from going to college by having him take their “college” classes only to find out later those classes were completely worthless in the real world, leaving him with no higher education.

Church hurt my family members when they made mistakes. It rejected them and made them outcasts because there was a visible reminder of their mistakes. They did not hold the same standard for the people the mistakes were made with.

Church made me feel like less than a person because I had a life and couldn’t commit most of my time to them.

Church brought me in, only to reject me later when I had questions and disagreed about certain theological points.

Church made me walk on eggshells because doing or saying the slightest “wrong” thing would offend someone.

Church made me feel guilty because I could never do enough. I never witnessed enough, I never fasted enough, I never read my Bible enough. Nothing was ever enough.

Church told people I love that they were doing something wrong when they were being abused. They downplayed everything and sent them into dangerous situations and it almost cost lives several times.

Church made a husband discourage his wife from having contact with her father because her father made a lifestyle choice that goes against the Bible. When we stood up for the father, wanting to love him and have him be a part of our lives anyway, we were in turn rejected.

Church took away my chance to meet my biological grandfather. He married a catholic girl after divorcing my grandmother and since there is a stigma about divorce chose to completely cut off all contact with my mom. He pretended he didn’t have a daughter and left my mom questioning who her biological father was for 50 years. My mom has a stepfather who is amazing and we all love very much but even as a child I could tell how hard it was for her that she didn’t know where she came from. She met him last year and he was apparently a really neat man. He wasn’t ready to meet any of his grandkids yet though. He just died. I will never meet him.

I can’t step foot in a church now without thinking about all these things and more. I know that if they truly knew me, what I think and believe, I would be rejected. I feel like I know the end of the story before it even starts.  It’s not a happy ending.

I’ll take Jesus, you can keep Church.

This is what happens when I’m unemployed

I currently have a lot of free time on my hands. This has led me to taking up hobbies like cutting up magazines, raising a puppy…

and now baking cupcakes for no reason whatsoever.

I actually have always enjoyed baking. When I was younger I would joke about how fat my family would be because that’s the only thing I was good at in the kitchen. I’ve gotten away from baking because I don’t feel like having to buy a bigger pants size every other month but the other day I saw a recipe that I just had to make.

It all started when Martha Stewart followed me on Twitter. Don’t tell Martha (although I’m sure she reads this blog because, you know, we’re totally Twitter BFFs and all.) but I’ve never really been a fan. Not that I disliked her, I didn’t have strong feelings one way or another. Well, she had to go and follow me which led me to checking out her blog and all of the sudden I’m all “Oooh! That’s so cute!” and “Ah! Those look delicious.” When I stumbled upon these cupcakes I just had to make them. I’m a huge sucker for toasted marshmallows in any form.

Lots of chocolate, layering, mixing and beating….

Broil for a couple minutes to get a nice toasted marshmallow look and voilà:

It may not be as pretty as Martha’s but it tastes like a little bite of heaven. It’s probably one of the most delicious cupcakes I’ve ever put into my mouth. No joke. Yum.

So, you want to date a flight attendant?

This isn’t exactly a new video and it doesn’t really apply to me because no matter how nicely you dress or what fancy restaurant you put on a business card I’m not going to go out with you. However, if I were single these things would definitely make you stand out from the usual skeezes who fly. Also, I like that they point out that being a flight attendant is the third sexiest profession. I mean, obviously. Enjoy.

Shopping FAIL

The other day the Dominick’s near us had a promotion. For every $50 worth of groceries you bought you got $10 worth of Kohl’s cash. Seemed like a pretty good deal and luckily our fridge was pretty much empty. Plus, we were out of toilet paper and cleaning products. When everything was said and done we got what is basically a $30 gift card to Kohl’s. The only difference is, it has to be spent at certain Kohl’s stores and it expires. Seemed like a pretty good deal…

Until I got to Kohl’s, that is. My first clue was when I had trouble determining when the girl’s section ended and the junior’s section began. It was full of clothes that looked like something I wore in middle school and that my almost 15 year old sister would wear now. Cute(ish) but not really my style. Or at least not my style anymore. I thought maybe I’d just outgrown junior’s so I wandered into misses. Yeeeah… That was full of stuff my mother would wear. Again, cute but not at all me. I didn’t even bother looking at women’s.

I decided to give junior’s another chance and after a lot of searching and rifling through crap like this:

I mean, seriously? Seriously?! Who wears this? I didn’t realize I went shopping in an 80’s costume store. Also notice that lovely, brightly colored, leopard print shirt in the right corner? Put those together and one glance could send someone into a shock induced coma. I’m just saying.

Anyway, I found a few things that I thought might be cute. Once I got into the dressing room however it was one FAIL after another. A medium shirt was skin tight while an extra small in a different style was huge on me. Nothing looked right. It was seriously frustrating.

It was the complete opposite of the experience that I was expecting. It just pissed me off. So, now I’m home and, instead of eating my weight in chocolate like I want, I’m stuffing myself with berries. I’m eating them with whipped cream so they’re not too super healthy though, don’t worry.

Moral of the story, don’t buy $150 worth of groceries until you’re certain the store you’re getting the bonus cash to has stuff worth buying.

The Invaders

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have been invaded by the enemy. They may look fairly harmless, they’re even beautiful from afar.

But underneath that pretty exterior beats a heart of pure evil.

If it was just the honking and the wing flapping noise it wouldn’t be so bad. I grew up in a house with six kids, I can ignore noise. It’s the pooping. Oh the pooping. The entire back lawn is covered, absolutely covered in goose poop every time these jerks come along. Seriously, they’re not that big, how the heck do they poop so much? Ugh!

It’s impossible to walk without stepping in it. A nice stroll around the lake is ruined when your shoes are coated in goose poop at the end. Plus Phoebe, being a dog and all, thinks goose poop is the tastiest of delicacies. So, not only am I scraping poop off my shoes but I’m having to pull it out of my puppy’s mouth all the time. Sometimes she’ll drop it when I tell her to but she’s not perfect and sometimes it’s so yummy that she just doesn’t want to. I have fished so much slobbery goose poop out of that dog’s mouth… *gag*

Luckily Phoebe seems to hate the geese as much, if not more, than I do. Of course she’s a fraction of their size and if I just set her loose I’m betting they could totally take her. On top of being poop machines, geese are mean. With me on her side however we are a great geese chasing duo. Phoebe loves to sit by the porch door. She can enjoy the spring breeze through the screen and she’s in a perfect lookout position in case any geese dare to land on our side of the pond. She knows the drill. She tells me they’re there. I grab her leash, throw some shoes on and we take off out the door after them.

The neighbors probably think I’m a complete lunatic. It’s probably pretty comical to see me and my tiny dog suddenly fly out of the door and run, yelling and barking at the flock of geese that just landed (I’m yelling, Phoebe’s barking… because if I was barking that would be crazy).

I don’t really care what the neighbors think though. We never hurt the geese, we just let them know that this side of the lake is our territory and those devils and their poop are not welcome.

Omg

I just opened my e-mail to find this:

That’s right. Verified account too. I might have squeeed just a tiny bit.

The one with(out) the butter

I am an extremely passionate person. Whatever I do, I throw myself into 130%. I also feel emotions passionately. If I’m happy, I’m ecstatic. If I’m sad, I’m devastated. If I’m angry, I’m furious. I love fiercely and am deeply loyal.

You can imagine how interesting living with me can be sometimes. I very rarely occasionally tend to over react to things. I’m not a let-my-feelings-simmer-under-the-surface kind of person. Because that’s not healthy right? I mean, if you bottle your feelings that stresses you out, causes wrinkles, heart disease, cancer etc. No seriously, blowing up saves lives! Sure. That’s it.

Anyway, Joel and I don’t fight very often. Really we don’t. We’re probably one of the most loving couples I know. When we do fight it’s usually about something ridiculous. For example, today it was about butter. Unsalted butter. I’m palm smacking my forehead as I type this. It was just as absurd as it sounds. I won’t bore you with the details. Basically, I needed unsalted butter for a baking project. We had some in the freezer and it was mysteriously gone. I’m positive I didn’t throw it away however Joel swore he didn’t throw it away either. So either it A) grew legs B) Phoebe sprouted wings and thumbs and opened the freezer and ate it or C) Joel forgot that he threw it away.

A sane person would’ve maybe gotten a little annoyed then got new butter. I, on the other hand, was irate. You would’ve thought he had thrown away diamond encrusted butter. It’s pretty embarrassing. Luckily, as quickly as my temper flares up it calms down and I forgive just as easily as I get upset. In fact, I can’t tell you how many times we’ve had huge fights and I can’t even remember why mere hours later.

Perhaps a marriage expert would disagree but I think fights like these keep our marriage solid. We get upset, talk it out (sometimes to exhaustion…) and then move on. Joel understands when I lose it over something as dumb as butter that he doesn’t need to take it personally. I mean, technically it was his fault because he lost the butter, but my reaction was just a little over the top. He understands me. In the same way, while I get frustrated, I understand that he has a lot on his mind and he loses things a lot. At the end of the day we love each other more than ever, faults and all, and that’s what counts.

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