The best is yet to come

I just read over my last post and realized what a complete whiner I sound like. Ugh! I still hate the things I listed before, but in order to not be such a doofus I've decided to put a positive spin on each of them. So, here goes:

I hate it when people complain about something but don't make any effort to change it. I do, however, enjoy saying, "I told you so."

I hate when the weather decides to act like it's March instead of May, but I love getting the most bang for my winter-clothes-buying buck.

I hate that I can't find a job anywhere, but I love the free time, extra hobbies, and fun weekends I've been enjoying.

I hate how much I rely on coffee to wake me up, but I love savoring every sip of the dark nectar.

I hate predictable movies, but I love pointing out what should have been done to make it a better cinematic experience.

I hate my computer's inability to go online, but I love having three other computers nearby that are able to access the internet.

I hate living in Molalla, but I love my brother's house.

I hate not knowing, but I love being able to pretend.

I hate unpaid debts, but I love knowing that someday I'll get it all back.

I hate missed opportunities, but I love how much they make me think.

I hate cold feet (literally), but I love letting Craig warm them up for me.

I hate people who make lists of what they hate, but I love remembering that I can do better.

Raindrops keep falling

I hate it when people complain about something but don't make any effort to change it.

I hate when the weather decides to act like it's March instead of May.

I hate that I can't find a job anywhere.

I hate how much I rely on coffee to wake me up.

I hate predictable movies.

I hate my computer's inability to go online.

I hate living in Molalla.

I hate not knowing.

I hate unpaid debts.

I hate missed opportunities.

I hate cold feet (literally).

I hate people who make lists of what they hate.

Dumb and dumber

I encountered a problem last night/this morning while picking up supplies for the dinner Renee and I are making for our men: No money. Not to say I literally had no way to pay for my groceries, I just didn't have my beloved debit card handy (I later realized it was sitting at home in the pants I had worn earlier in the day). With my preferred mode of payment no longer an option, I was left with a few other choices: cash, credit, check. The $4 in my wallet was not enough to cover the nearly $20 worth of food I'd loaded into my cart, so obviously that wasn't going to fly. I was wary of using my credit card just then because I still hadn't informed the bank of my recent address change, which would mean days of waiting for a bill to arrive that could possibly never even show up. Granted, I could have just called the bank the next day to let them know of my move, but at this point I figured writing a check would be no problem. As I pulled out my checkbook and hurriedly began to fill in the blanks, I told myself not to sweat it, that I had plenty of time to do this without causing too much of a delay.

Except for when the address on my driver's license and on my checks didn't match up. Things really got complicated after the other register closed, leaving the line I was currently holding up as the only available way for the half-dozen shoppers to purchase their goods. Even worse was when the checker loudly informed me of the discrepancy between my information and left to go get the transaction approved by a manager, adding a solid minute to the total wait time of the people behind me.

Suck. I realize it was almost 1 a.m. at a store nowhere near my current home, but I still felt like a moron. At least I can laugh about it now.

You put my heart in motion

It's official: I'm in love. Craig and I are nearing the six-month mark, and I honestly can't imagine my life without him. He makes me laugh. He makes me smile. He makes me think. He holds my hand when I need him to. He rubs my back when it's sore. He listens. He understands me, even when most of the time I confuse myself. He gets along with my family. He holds doors for me. He knows when to give me space. He is about as close to perfection as I can stomach.

(And Babe, sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but you know it's what I do.)

This earthquake weather has got me shaking

I’m amazed at how a group of people – related or not – can suddenly morph into one big conglomerate of sharing. I’d had this idea in the back of my mind for a while before Craig volunteered his own thoughts on the subject this past weekend. “Not to sound gay,” he said, “but we’ve become quite a family.” This was after the five of us (Justin, Craig, my sisters and I) had spent the day at the beach together. The drive down consisted of us singing Rock Band songs at the top of our lungs, while on the way back the girls and I did our best to keep the sunburnt boys from getting any worse. We came home to some good ol’ fashioned beer pong with Brad, and the next night we added Keith to the mix and cooked up a fantastic barbecue dinner. Later in the weekend we roasted marshmallows and shared stories over the fire pit. We put together a swimming pool, fruitlessly attempted to patch the holes, bought a new pool, filled it, and willed the water to be just a few degrees warmer as it numbed our lower halves. We filled up dozens of water balloons for a boys vs. girls battle that was reminiscent of our junior high years. It was, to say the very least, a lot of fun.

I’m not sure if it’s the weather that has brought us so close together or if it’s just the fact that we spend most weekends in the same house in Milwaukie, but whatever the reason I do enjoy it.

Hello, lover

My girls are back, and I couldn't be more excited! They may be a little older, a little more responsible, but by golly they are certainly the same Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte I fell in love with just a few years ago. For me, May 30 cannot come quickly enough.

I became hooked on Sex and the City during what was probably the most difficult period of my life. For close to an entire month I went to work, came home to my lonely apartment, popped in a DVD and did my very best not to think about him. Yes, him. I got lost in the ups and downs of Carrie and Big's tumultuous romance, ignoring how it oftentimes mirrored the relationship I had just walked away from. I laughed at Samantha's sex life, cried with Charlotte during her baby struggles, and cheered on Miranda's pursuit of Steve. I was as shocked as any of them with Berger's breakup post-it note. It sounds pathetic, but when the four of them met up for lunch I wanted more than anything to be sitting at the table too.

The feelings I have for these four characters goes beyond mere admiration. I want a fabulous closet full of clothes and shoes. I want friendships that last a lifetime. I want to be able to withstand heartbreak. I want to write a weekly column, and later land a fantastic book deal. I, like so many other women out there, want to be Carrie Bradshaw. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days I will.

Close your eyes and hope for the best

I hate when I have a list of this many things to do and I only get this much done. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it... And yet for some reason it keeps happening. Today wasn't so bad - not like yesterday - but I still feel like a waste of space the majority of the time.

No matter, at least I'm not as dumb as this guy at the Mariners game last week:

So tell me, what exactly is a "strick"? How did he not notice the discrepancy between the spelling on his sign and the scoreboard, the jumbotron during "Take Me Out To The Ballgame," and every other place it was correctly written throughout Safeco Field?
By the way, an old guy brought the sign - he just happened to pass it off to a little kid right before I took the photo. Moron.

Another fine example of grammar misuse appeared on a pole between Joe's and Best Buy. I know, I know, people who deface public property are generally of lower intelligence anyway, but a part of me still hopes for the best. Hint: There are two mistakes in this pic.


This is fun! Maybe I'll make it my life goal to point out the flaws of others. Ha, as if I really need more of a reason to be judgmental...

A ghost of you?

I think this house is haunted. I'd say it was just me being paranoid if Renee hadn't voiced her own suspicions earlier this afternoon.

That sure makes things more interesting.

Life will go on, right?

I'm broke. There's no way around it. I'm as terrified right now as I was that first day I realized the financial burden that would come with losing my job, yet now I feel like I have more to be ashamed of. It probably looks like I've just pissed the last couple months away but I've written a good number of articles and hopefully been laying the foundation for my next career. Too bad it hasn't been a very monetarily-rewarding endeavor.

And even though the money has dried up, the bills have not. I never would have had a problem driving somewhere before when I had a job. Now that it costs me $50 to fill up (about as much as I make writing an article), I cringe at the thought of going anywhere. Those Pumas I've been wanting for months? Keep dreaming. Summer clothes are pretty much out of the question now too. Whenever I do buy something I immediately feel guilty about it and want to return it. I'm going to hide my debit card when I get home to prevent these lapses of judgment, but for now I'll sit here silently hating all the money I just spent.

It seems like almost every day I ask myself why I don't just get a regular job. And why not? Part of it is because jobs these days are not easy to find, even for college graduates, and until recently I didn't want to get involved in something that wasn't going anywhere and consequently lose sight of my ultimate goals. Now I'll settle for anything. I'm even considering looking for work in other states. I know if my biggest debtor would ever pay me back I would not have to worry so much, but that will probably never happen.

I guess I might as well kiss that money goodbye, along with my self-esteem. Dang.

Somehow I dozed off and woke up in a pile of garbage

I don't know what to say about this weather except "bleh." It sucks, we all hate it, move on, right? Only, summer is and has always been my favorite season. I live for the sunshine, the longer days, the sports, and just the relaxed way of life that comes into play during these warmer months. Last year we really didn't have a summer, and I'm afraid this year might turn out to be a bummer too. I really hope I'm wrong.

As I type this I reek of campfire smoke and have a belly full of s'mores. I'm watching The Food Network. I can hear Miranda, Justin, Craig and Brad playing Rock Band downstairs. Renee is sleeping on The Love Sack. I'm going to Seattle to watch a Mariners game tomorrow.

Summer or not, life is good.

Follow your heart? Riiiight

Who the heck does Jewel think she is? She begins her career playing up the folksy/hippie angle, which earned her a handful of Top 10 singles and critical acclaim, and then for her fifth CD she goes and tries to market herself as some sort of sex kitten. Why? Because Mooooom, everybody else is doing it! Her influences at the time were clearly the popsters with canned beats and phony vocals (see Britney and Christina). After dropping out of the biz for a few years she came back in 2006 sounding more like herself, but for some reason (I wonder why?) she no longer had any credibility. Nobody bought it, and nobody bought her CD.

Now here it is a few years later, which means it's time for yet another Jewel career facelift. The direction she has decided to pursue is (surprise, surprise) the suddenly-popular country field. Annnnd her first single just happens to feature the themes of being a strong woman and staying true to yourself. Right, just like you obviously are, Miss Identity Crisis. Even better is the fact that Jessica Simpson is reportedly not far behind with that country disc. Ugggggg...

With that said, I'll probably end up thinking her CD is amazing and regretting this whole rant.

I'm a hick, I'm a hick

Some of what I witnessed during a walk through Molalla this sunny Sunday morning:

A man drinking Sparks. Before noon. While getting ready to drive a car.

A garage sale with the sign: "No price to low." To low what? To low where? To low who?! Ohhh, you mean too low. Got it.

A large woman squeezed into (and busting out of) a teal shorts and tank set that would have barely fit Miranda.

Co-stanza

I'd be willing to bet - and I'm sure there are plenty out there who'd agree - that my cat takes some of the stinkiest dumps in the world. Just a minute ago I walked by the laundry room and ran smack into a cloud of stench that was wafting from his most recent achievement. I almost gagged.

I know it's possible to teach cats how to use a toilet, but I just want Luke to learn how to turn on the exhaust fan.

Mission accomplished

There was only one night in the past week where I got more than six hours of sleep, and that was because I was recovering from some heavy drinking. Exhaustion, however, is a small price to pay for the memories I made in Michigan. Memories of Uncle Wayne and Aunt Joyce taking us out for breakfast. Of Aunt Penny's gracious hospitality. Of my cousin David talking candidly about some of the mistakes he made as a teenager. Of those pool players in Paisano's. Of huffing and puffing to the top of that giant sand dune - and then finding out Miranda barfed halfway up. Of zipping around in a golf cart with my cousin Crystal. Of seeing the farm where my mom grew up. Of fake mustaches.

Miranda and I snapped a combined 1,400 pictures on our digital cameras, so the photographic evidence of our vacation will soon be available for all to see.

On top of all that, my siblings and I bonded in a way we haven't come close to in years, ever since those days we all lived at home and found a joint activity to annoy Mom with. I'll never forget the four of us driving down the back roads of Michigan, the windows letting in the chilly afternoon air and Keith Urban blasting through the speakers while we all took turns sticking our heads out the moonroof. Renee even took the wheel of the Jeep so Joseph could have a chance to experience the wind in his face. Dangerous? Yes. Fun? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely. You can't buy moments like that.