REF: The Hills Marathon

This is just too funny to not post. THANK YOU STACY SO MUCH!! This made my freakin' night!!!



(expand the video to full screen so you can read the notes at the bottom of the screen)

handwriting meme (blog game)

Thanks Sami!!

Write down the following, take a photo of it, and post it - The Handwriting Meme!

1. Name & blog name
2. Right handed, left handed or both
3. Favorite letters to write
4. Least favorite letters to write
5. Write 'The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.'
6. Write the following words in all caps.
CRAB HUMOR KALEIDOSCOPE PAJAMAS GAZILLION
7. Favorite song lyrics
8. A special note or drawing

my bike got stolen

F*ck you thief!! I woke up this morning to find my fantastic neon yellow mountain bike had been stolen off my patio. My patio is surrounded by a cement wall (I live in a basement apartment) so that means this person (or persons) jumped over the wall and hoisted my bike out.

Ah, I hope it wasn't while I was home!! That is so creepy!!

What makes this really upsetting is this bike was a gift from Andrew... and now I'll never get it back. I've filed a police report and made a claim to my renter's insurance but anyone from Portland knows that if your bike is stolen, you'll never get it back. I'm really upset. I hope I find whomever did this and I can sucker punch them in the throat!!

The Hills marathon

I've had a ton of math and writing homework today and "The Hills" have been playing NON-STOP!!! MTV is having a marathon leading up to the premier. I on a few occasions watched this show. I just couldn't ever get into it. And I like reality tv (as reality as this show can be). It's pretty odd to watch Heidi's transformation (hair, tan, weight, boobs, face, wardrobe, etc) over the years crammed into a days worth of viewing.

Well, time to eat then back to half watching bad tv and doing homework.

~xoxo

Two Weeks

I've been living on my own for two weeks. I still have pictures to hang, boxes to sort and unpack but I'm here. Much like me, the dogs are still adjusting. Sophie has bursts of energy - she's used to having Serena around all day, also my long days of school and work, Andrew was the first home and did much entertaining in the evenings. I feel sadness and guilt when I come home at 8:30pm and I still need to eat dinner and do homework and all she wants is 20 minutes outside this tiny apartment... it will take some adjusting.

Buddy had a fit of anxiety last week. He licks himself (and possibly chews) his hind legs until they bleed. Very sad and stressful for both of us. He ate his legs raw last week. I spray bitter apple on him; he'll lick through it or wipe it off on the sofa (then I'm stuck with a stained and smelly sofa). I feel horrible, but my only choice is to cone him. He's blind, going deaf and now coned.
Alas!

Last night was movie night at Audrey's. Graham made dinner and we watched Identity (John Cusack). Had a wonderful time with my friends, but driving home felt the pang of reality - I was the third wheel and I'm going home to no one. I allow myself to be sad with this. No use denying it or trying to fight it. It passes. I cry, feel awful but remind myself that I deserve someone honest and kind; qualities that were not bestowed upon me the past several months.

I had a math test this morning, think I did well. I'm home now and have two papers to work on; WR122 and PSY201. The weather is pretty but chilly. It should be a productive day in front of the computer.

I was very proud of myself yesterday - I finally put the Bowflex together!! It sat in pieces in the garage for a year and half because it was too tall to fit in our older apartment.

You can't be sad when you're Bowflexing.
There's no crying in Bowflexing!!!

Happy Sunday everyone.

they said what?

(While you read this, please keep in mind this is an actual conversation that happened in the office I work at less then 10 minutes ago...)

Woman #1: The end of the world is coming, it just won't be that obvious.
Woman #2: So true.
Woman #1: My son thinks Obama is the anti-Christ. He thinks it's a sign.
Woman #2: Oh I know!! That's what my mother calls him.
Woman #1: Who?
Woman #2: Obama - she calls him the anti-Christ.
Woman #1: Good. I'm so tired of that Muslim. It makes me and my husband sick! Thank God my son has more sense then most of his friends, ya know?
Woman #2: Good for him.

I know you'll face diverse opinions in any working environment in America but sometimes I feel like screaming and crying here. This can't be the "norm" for a business office, right??!?!! It will be my 7 year anniversary in June, so I don't know any other working environment.

Ahhh... this makes it even more clear that I need to go to school, graduate and get a new job.

A Blank Canvas Says More

(I know exactly what she's singing about.)

My living room is a homemade fort of unpacked boxes. I'm unmotivated to unpack and exhausted with facing them every moment I'm in this room.

I was told, by more then one woman who has been jilted by an ex live-in boyfriend, that there will come a moment in my new boyfriendless apartment when I will exhale the sadness and inhale the peace.

...

Maybe I'm not breathing right. I'm not sad, I'm not anything. I'm mostly tired.

If I had to paint a picture of what I was feeling it would be a gray square on a white canvas. Dull. Means nothing. Expresses nothing. Not particularly depressing; unable to convey.

I'm relieved that most of my daily tasks are simple - I don't feel terribly burdened by anything nor enthusiastic about anything. I don't feel like myself. But at least I'm not lying in bed, covers up to my chin with a straw in a vodka glass and "The Notebook" on reply in the DVD player.

I think it's this way because for the last 8 weeks I lived with Andrew we did not live as a couple. I'm very much used to sleeping alone. I'm very much used to eating dinner alone.

I'm still figuring everything out. My gray square really wants to evolve into something bright and powerful. My goal is to paint an orange smile. A yellow and blue paw print. Or paint nothing and just get past all of this.

I own a neon, yellow bicycle for Christ's sake!!

Somebody told me when things seem really foreign and you can't classify what the hell you're feeling because it's so crappy and achy and you're just so god-damned tired of feeling it; tell yourself this is a memory you'll look back on and say, "Thank God that time in my life is over."

It's only temporary. This blue-gray rainbow that only blends in with the sky; this bullshit that makes no sense - is only temporary.

What would you paint on your canvas?

Gentle Yoga

At an attempt to bring some Zen into my life, I'm taking a yoga class this term. The instructor, Sarah, is fantastic. Soothing voice, explains the poses and doesn't make it too much about spirituality. Today was my second session.

I'm not finding the poses challenging, I'm finding my reaction to some of the poses surprising. I can really relax and focus on my breathing and my body; this triggers something within me and I want to let go of everything and cry a little. I don't know what it is, it's not a huge deal it's just bizarre to me that something about doing the child's pose or Locust pose gets me choked up.

I'm indifferent about the class. I've only gone twice. I'm not leaving feeling better or well worked, just a bit disconnected. Or plugged in. I don't know. Perhaps it's a good thing. I do feel rested.

I'm still without some mindless tv to watch and surprise, surprise, NO HOT WATER IN MY SHOWER - I shall be bumming the couch with Audrey (and bumming her shower). Tomorrow is Friday - thank goodness.

Work, clean the old apartment and prepare for officially saying goodbye to my bad relationship. We're turning in the keys Saturday, (after the carpets are cleaned). I'm looking forward to next week - I'm determined to unlock my potential and that is what some say is the key to happiness.