pinz

i have an idea.

i'm going to trick silly girls on pinterest who click on the "5 ways to make your marriage work" or "25 things all married couples should do" lists and exhange them with a mean-face emoticon that says "STOP PINNING AND PIN YOUR HUSBAND DOWN".

lol.

christmas is coming. the goose is getting fat. please put a penny in the old mans hat. because i am getting fat too, and will use your pennies to buy myself another sports bra so i can work out in comfort.

i pinned a couple that looked cute and functional.

06angeline

I don't know what possessed me to make an online dating profile for someone named "angeline". What is more, I don't know why I chose "our time"--a site for seniors, to be my platform of trickery. 

I'm not trying to trick people at all...I just wanted to look at the kind of people who signed up for this. I was crying looking at some of the older men's profiles. The longing for love seems to never go away. 

Here is what I've gathered from my time at our time:

choose a honest, yet flattering photo of yourself. angeline is not interested in headshots, or extreme editing

if you have "a few extra pounds" make sure to choose "i have a few extra pounds" in your bio. this is especially important if your photo shows the truth. i don't wanna date no liars!

while we're on the topic of photos, don't use your old wedding photo as your profile picture. cropping the bride out halfway only makes it half as worse.

if you're on "our time", a site aimed to bring senior citizens together, do not say your ideal woman is younger--25-30. unless you're hoping for there to be other weird young adults like me scopin' you out...that's just plain rude. 

while we're on the topic of frauds and liars, i guess i should go to bed. 

others, they twitter like birds

the best thing in life is laying in bed, laughing about things that happened during the day. things people said, or interactions. or christmas karaoke cds you make with your friend.

i've always wanted to make a christmas album. i wanted something festive and cheery, but also a little funny. i liked the idea of a midi file. i liked the idea of midwestern accents. i like peas and carrots.

my bff and i have a "routine" we like to do when we're feeling silly. we have these horrible overweight midwestern personas called trace and shirl. we like to talk about our failing diets, our husbands sex drives and celebrity gossip.

we put our characters to use with some 69 cent itunes downloads. i have never laughed harder in my life about something that wasn't that funny. those unfunny funnies, are usually the funniest.

we'll replay the songs, over and over...laughing hysterically, breathlessly and almost peeing our pants about the tiniest detail. honest to goodness hysterics...over a karaoke song?

these are the highlights of my life. complete joy about a little detail. shoving cheetos in my mouth, or the way an arby's sign looks late at night or a PT cruiser. prank calling family in an indian accent or making fun of pj salvage pajamas or choreographing dance routines to amy grant. the things that make me laugh like a maniac, breathe life into my often anxious and seasonally depressed self.


when people ask what i want in a spouse, maniac laughing is at the top of my list (i've actually been joking about the money and health insurance thing!). i don't know a lot about marriage, but it seems to me people who can roll around on the ground with their heads throbbing from laughing could probably figure out how to navigate through the hard parts, too. I have seen my parents laugh like that once or twice, and it was like seeing a glorious angel descend to earth.

that weird floating uncle albert from mary poppins got it right. i love to laugh...and it really is getting worse every year.

championship round

being frugal vs being disgusting: you be the judge.

i bought a sweater and have worn it everyday since. i bought it the day after thanksgiving.

i shower sparingly. last visit, 4 days ago. last interaction with a razor? can't recall. (warmth > smoothness. time spent standing still under hot water > time spent awkwardly hunched over shaving legs)

i make large quantities of food to last me weeks. my favorite dish is cans of beans and corn mixed with rice. every. day. if you put a random spice in it, it seems like a different meal.

i reuse my dishes. oatmeal in a mug for breakfast? one quick rinse and it becomes my bowl for rice and beans. coffee break? just scrape the residue off with my spoon and pour da java in. less time washing = more time eating.

home remedies & concoctions trump store bought alternatives. my sister discovered my kombucha brewing den in our bathroom closet and was permanently scarred by the "mother" mushroom. i once sanitized a toe nail clipper and snipped off an enlarged taste bud (i do not recommend doing that. bled for hours).

some of these habits i will continue on throughout my life, no doubt, but i promise if i ever have to share a bed with someone i will consider eliminating some. maybe the dishes one. we'll see.


ps: i know getting rid of a taste bud with a toenail clipper is really disgusting. i am ashamed. but i also think it was very inventive. my embarrassment outweighs my pride though. i'm sorry if i grossed you out.

sob story of my life is a bowl of cherries.

as of recent, my car has been having extreme issues. violent shaking, rattling, etc. usually i can figure out a fix to get me through. i brought my car to a shop and they told me what was wrong and said it wasn't imminent...but that eventually something would have to happen. eventually? i'll take my chances. 

well today i discovered i have a leak in my transmission. i didn't figure that out until after i attempted to drive my car faster than 30mph. hazards flashing, white knuckles gripping my wheel,  i somehow made it to my destination. there i stood in the snow in my skirt and spilled transmission fluid all over my red hands because my makeshift paper funnel wasn't properly constructed. 

there i was, feeling bad for myself, cold and pouty and covered in pink fluid. i was getting pissed at the droves of businessmen just walking by. why aren't they helping me? they should help me!  if i had a bf i could just call him and he could come help me! if had money in the bank i could get a nicer car! poor me! this is unfair!

the trans fluid did the trick and i was able to bring my baby to a steady 50. that was until some semi blasted its brown snow my way. when i tried to wipe it away, my wipers stuck and suddenly i couldn't see anything. i "calmly" pulled to the side...which turned more into a slipped down the side as it was covered in ice. i said a few naughty words and started to tear up as i violently got out of my car on the busy highway to wipe my wipers. 

cars were passing like bullets. lexus, bmw, fancy things, left and right. not even bothering to move over to the center lane. just like i do whenever i see that unlucky driver. 

just as i got the situation under control, and unlikely hero, a rough looking man in a beat up junker had stopped to see if i needed help. 

to say the least, i was taken off guard. my natural prejudice normally tells me to steer clear of men like this. he was obviously poor. his car was barely running. but there he was, helping a stranger in need, despite his obvious need. i was just able to say give him my thanks before i broke down into a pathetic happy/sad sob on the side of the road. i was so embarrassed of my attitude and i was so thankful for a kind person. 

what a perfect reminder this day has been to me. i have been privileged my whole life. i've been safeguarded from harm and need. i have a deep feeling of entitlement to these simple things. to a running car. to heat in my house. to food in my stomach. i say i am thankful, but what i'm really saying is "i expect nothing less."so often, i can't give because "i don't have enough to give". i can't help because first i need to help my self. before i can be aware of others needs, i need more. 

well, it has been a season of "less" for me. of course, i have much more than many, but for me, it has been a running lesson on thanksgiving and awareness of excess. wondering how i will pay a bill, or pay for gas has become part of my life--it won't be forever, but it's lessons i hope will last a life time. i am seeing "poor" people in a new light. i am understanding something i could only look at with pity before. i'm still entitled and selfish, but i am learning. 

today i am thinking of all the people who don't have a community of support like me. people who don't have friends and family to call when they can't get their car to start. people who don't have a flexible job that will let them be late. today i am thankful for people who care. who are looking out for others, despite the fact their own situation isn't perfect. i'm thankful for that rusty buick that reminded me that i don't have to have it all together to be able to care for others...and to always carry a funnel. 

username does not exist.

my dad got on his hands and knees and begged the ticket taker at the movies to let him back in without his stub. he called her "your majesty". I asked him if anyone saw. "don't know, don't care." was his response. who is this man? where is the chuck I once knew? this one can stay.

holidays are funny in my family. there is always an "issue". this year it was no heat, a rash and a dental emergency. but we had blankets, soaking tubs and vicodin to help us. we were very thankful.

speaking of emergency situations, I went to the mall. this doesn't happen often and now I am reminded why. the lights. the people. the hot flashes. I finally get why people subject themselves to the public embarrassment and germs of the Chinese chair massages in the middle of the hallways. No one really wants one...but needs one after the torture that is Abercrombie perfume wafting through the vents and pubescent boys picking out bath & bodyworks for their girlfriends. yuck.

it started snowing today, coincidentally my seasonal depression made it's way into my life, too. someone get me one of them happy lights, stat!

update: I retract my recommendation to look at old acquaintance's' linkedins. apparently, it shows them that you looked. I promptly started sweating and deleted my account when AJ told me so. living on the wild side.

In memoriam/there is still time

Sister christer just discovered that our beloved and celebrated xanga site was no longer accessible. Rather than paying the $48/month fee for access, she downloaded the content and was able to preserve a national treasure. To honor days gone by and my first attempts at humorous writing, I leave with you one of my favorite pieces. Not my best work, but I fear it could be slightly prophetic.

SkooterGrrlz Wed, 06 Jul 2005 02:21:43 -04:00 to our future husbands:

my beloved, i think of often. i know it sounds crazy, but i picture your butt crack as you squat down to pick up your doughnut. I can hear your laugh resounding in my ear, like a nasty congested dog. the way your burly woodchooper fingers gently try to make their way through my snarly, unwashed hair just makes me tingle in anticipation. my pulse races and my palms sweat at just the thought of us "becomming one." Ive been with lots of guys, but there always seems to be somthing...missing. I look forward to the day when we have Movie cuddle nights, watching those romantic old black and white films. (i appologize in advance for the "accidental popcorn fight i will start) I long to eat our cereal together everymorning (i like cornflakes, how about you?) Ive waited for the guy who calls me stupid, instead of pretty, and who honestly tells me i look fat in my jeans...and i am so happy ive waited. Cause what we will experiance, will be far greater than any instant gratification i have ever known. ever. maybe i know you. maybe i dont. maybe we're friends. maybe we have yet to cross paths. maybe we're related. all i know, is that i love you, whoever you are. with all my heart, soul, and most importantly, my body. i will rejoice in the day you decide my body is a wonderland. and i too will be your alice, and you will be my wonderland. i picture what our children will look like. yes, probally nasty...but we will love them anyways. in the perfect love we have discovered between us. please wait for me. cause im waitying. waiting for you darling. wait for me to....cause i wait for you.( thanks rebecaka st. james)
all my love, your future wife.
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momzRcute

some boots were NOT meant for walking. specifically, uggs. i am still feeling the burn from an unexpected 2 mile brisk "walk" yesterday. beyond the extreme calf fatigue, i also looked like i was having an allergic reaction to something. the bright side? my physical activity is done for the month!

just kidding. i am also participating in the "turkey trot" this thanksgiving. at first i was hesitant, but then my mom told my my dog was doing it too. i'll do anything to be with my dog.

i'm not quite certain what trotting is, but i have a feeling i won't like it. maybe instead of engaging my body, i will engage my brain and draft a master plan for a dog sleigh for my dog to drag me in behind his energetic little body. that is, if my dad hasn't already.

my friend just sent me a text simply saying "omg". i knew that meant he had just seen catching fire. i asked him if i'm going to die when i see it. he said "maybe" just thought i should let someone know what has happened if i don't resurface monday afternoon. someone just make sure to shoot off a canon and raise three fingers for me.

today i had about a ten minute conversation with a man named cliff. that's my grandpa's name...but this man talked to me more than my grandpa ever has. i'm not being snarky, just truthful. anyways, cliff was a real weirdo, but i liked him. he told me if i ever get married and have children to take a train ride from redwing to st.paul. he told me where i could ballroom dance or listen to "authentic blues". i probably will never do any of those things, but i appreciated the suggestions.

talking to strangers used to mortify me. well, my dad talking to strangers would. sometimes it still makes me cringe when he does, but it's pretty cute...and it helped instill a basic understanding of polite conversation...something i unfortunately think is expired with the youth of today. but don't get me started on that.

speaking of talking to strangers, the thought of running into almost anyone from highschool while home for the holiday gives me absolute shivers up and down my spine. to celebrate certain impending doom, i decided to look at fellow classmates linkedin pages. i'm telling you now...if you ever want a good giggle...do that. do that now. i just couldn't get enough of the headshots, and resume-like info.

i started following a thing called "tiny house blog" and i am truly obsessed with the idea of making a tiny little house and living off the grid. mostly so i can subscribe to the lifestyle free of going to the doctor and driving cars...uh, but...um, mostly to be environmentally responsible! and those tiny little houses are so dang cute! little things are so cute!

my mom used to always pack my lunch full of mini things and i'd get so annoyed! mini pops, mini yogurts, mini, mini, mini. looking back, i wish i could have appreciated the cuteness of those mini products more. moms are always right when it comes to cute.

macaroni day

today i made cinnamon bun pancakes and danced like a hip hop ballerina in anticipation for their entry into my mouth. they got a standing ovation...and a quick run to the stove to make another batch and shove them down my grateful pie hole.

speaking of food, today was a macaroni day. these are the days that are gloomy and tired. where you have a headache or don't want to do any work. you want to eat macaroni and cheese and watch mister rogers. today was a macaroni day, but i didn't eat any macaroni.

instead i listened to voice mails over 2 months old, did laundry only to put it back on my floor and watch an episode of sister wives. when i found myself crying an embarassing amount during the homebirth of one of the sister wive's child, i realized my macaroni day had gone awol.

tonight, i met myself as a high schooler. it wasn't really me, but she reminded me of myself. it was both frightening and beautiful at the same time. within minutes of meeting, she was preforming a song from les mis, talking about peeing on an animal carcuss and stopping mid-sentance to dance to her "jam" (in case you were wondering, the song was wake me up, by avacci.) I really liked her, but also felt like calling my mom and saying "sorry".

i could spend a lot of time imagining what my future children could be like. a lot depends on my Y chromosome, but i'm pretty sure the child will be wild, naked and have stringy hair that doesn't get combed often. i hope they have a inch worm circus like me and take toads for walks on shoe strings...but i also hope they don't spend hours and hours talking to themselves and staying up crying about going to heaven. as long as they're dressed in the finest children's clothing, popular and are the best in their sports teams, i guess it doesn't matter.

gatekeeper.

perhaps i am late to the party, but i just found out that they are making an Independence Day II. whatttt? on a scale of 1 to a 13 year old boy in 1996, i am a starter jacket wearing, surge drinking, gameboy playing, michael jordan loving, young man! boy oh boy!

if there is one thing i love more than candy and corgis, it is jeff goldblum mid-90's. don't get me started. while i do love his antics in jurassic park, the neurosis of ID really strikes a chord in me.

i've often considered a career in mid-90's film review.the humor, the special effects, the great costuming. as a gift to you, i will now give my favorite 90's films.

1. home alone. obvz at the top of the list. the zany antics! the one liners! kevin!

2. the net. im sorry, im not sorry. the use of dial up during the climax is one of the greatest scenes in cinematic history. (and who doesn't remember the frantic need for dial up to hurry up so you can chat with your buddies!?)

3. breaking free. a lesser known classic in my book.  after a freak gymnastics injury, lydsay is sent to horse camp where rick, a troubled boy must confront his past while helping her towards her new sightless future. you can borrow my vhs.

4. camp nowhere. oh, the scandal. oh, the romance. oh, the chrisopher lloyd.

5. air force one. i still rewind the chubby lady parachuting out the back. "get off my plane!"

now, if you don't mind i'm gonna go get some dunkaroos and find some clear pepsi.

Actually, I shouldn't say that because I'm your teacher.

oops. i accidentally ate 4 pieces of toast and 3 sweet and salty nut bars in the past hour. it was an accident!

kinda like when  teacher sam falls for josie geller. that was an accident. but it was supposed to happen. just like the excessive carbs.

i think the emotional eating was brought on by a very touching NOVA program about odd animal couples. it was either the old goat who befriended a blind horse or the gabon who was left out from all other other monkeys in monkeyland that did me in. dang it, lonley monkey. why you gotta be so cute?

what is it about a lonely monkey that makes me want bread? what is it about a 30 something in disguise as a high school student that makes a teacher go bananas? somethings, are just imponderable.

hooverville

my friends are trying to set me up. i am breaking down.

of course i often comment on how much i would like to be in love...but that doesn't mean i want to talk to a boy!!!!! boyz r scary and smell like mcdonalds wrappers.

to lure me towards love, my anonymous friend has done the following:
-send 2 far away pictures of potential suitor riding a giant tricycle.
-investigate his hobbies aka ju jitsu
-take screen shot of his dog (this really is the only info i need)
-"accidentally" find his salary listed online

besides the fact that i can't see his face in the far away tricycle pictures, i'd consider my friend a genuine herbert hoover. i feel like i know everything i need to know that he and i are a perfect match!

its funny to write about boys and being chubby and things like that because they're my insecurities, and somewhere in my weird brain, bringing them out into the open range and being the first one to make fun of the situations will prevent any sort of embarrassment. unfortunately, my brain must be controlled by some mean geek squad team member, as i can't seem to choose which thoughts and words stream in and out. i shouldn't make fun of myself so much, but somewhere up there there is a man named todd with a pet tarantula crossing the red wires with the green ones. there are lots of job postings for geek squad team members, so i'm pretty sure i'm not the only one with an unwanted techie living upstairs.

because i am a sport, i've crafted a master plan. i'll meet this professor man, make fun of myself and then ask him which disney character i remind him of. when he says something i don't like, i'll use it as an excuse to excuse myself from possible rejection. or i will stuff him in my trunk and steal his dog. whatever happens, happens.

this whole thing has sounded like a terribly depressing and pathetic AIM away message circa 2001. my goal is to make things equal parts funny and vulnerable...but i've never been good at math.

herbert's friends are really neat (they come from lots of places)

my friend and i were standing in an elevator holding small pumpkins. "that's a nice set of pumpkins you got there!" was our greeting from a middle age construction worker. he made sure to clarify "you know i was talkin about those actual pumpkins, right?" you never know.

that was my fall segway. i just love fall. when i was small and video recorded my own children's show called "herberts friends" i wrote a song and preformed it with my sister called "i love fall". they lyrics were simple, but poignant

i love fall (i love fall) yes i do (yes i do) i love fall (i love fall) and i love you.

and ladies and gents, that's really how i feel.

i've had the luxury's of living in many fabulous spots. southern california, centeral oregon, the pacific northwest and beautiful B.C canada. but let me tell you something. there is nothing quite like the beauty of a crisp fall day, trees the colors of pumkins and lemons and gourds. you get to wear scarves and boots and not freeze or sweat to death. we justify daily lattes, because their seasonal...and we can still operate like normal human beings without fear of death by elements.

fall is the reason so many of us midwesterners accept the abuse of our otherwise miserable climate. when its -30 and our car doesn't start, we just remind ourselves "summer is almost here. summer is so nice". when it's summer and hotter than a banshee and your thighs stick together and you get tiny forehead pimples we say "i can't wait for winter!". what we really mean both those times is that we can't wait for fall. that middle child of the seasons. not too extreme. just right.

today i was driving home from a meeting and had to compose myself after seeing a father and daughter practicing their free throws. i don't know why, but my crazy levels, otherwise known as hormones are off the charts. my friend says it's because my body want to have a baby. i don't think she knows my body very well. my body wants a massage and another bowl of cookies and cream .

ps: moonface: do you remember any other songs?

there must be more than this provincial life

i like beards. so what? the thing is, liking beards in the midwest is like...liking pollution and hot weather in the PNW. it's just different here.

my friends love me despite my "weird lifestyle choices"and are trying to help me quench my thirst for facial hair.

"sonia! i just saw your dream man--he had a beard AND was driving a mini van."

"sonia! there is a boy i want you to meet. you don't have to be attracted to him, but he has a beard, and i know you like those."

"sonia! there is this boy i know...only thing is, he might not be able to grow a beard. are you ok with that?"

"sonia! i met a man downstairs. i think his son is with him. he has a beard...you should go talk to him."

it sounds like i have a problem, doesn't it? maybe it's my friends who have the problem. or maybe it's guys problem. i mean, it's their fault for being magically able to grow beautiful, luscious HAIR ON THEIR FACE LIKE A MYSTICAL WOODLAND CREATURE!!!!  i hate guys! i love beards!

let's go deeper.

when i really think about it, i think it must be because i am compared to a boy a lot. i think god tried to help me by giving me a bountiful bosom, so as not to confuse the male gender...but sometimes people are stupid. what i am trying to say is (mostly) only boys can grow beards and since i can't that must mean i am a girl and that must mean that i am not la fou from beauty and the beast, and even if i am not belle, i am most likely a pleasant townsperson just trying to get on with her day and buy a loaf of bread.

aren't disney movies great for life analogies? that one was a stretch...but you get the point. i will keep making jokes about beards until i get one. well, not on my own face. preferably on someone elses...but i could also make due with one in a decorative box...next to my precious moments figurines and tiny shot glasses from all my travels.

not nice lady

writing so many blogs in such a short amount of time must mean one thing. unemployment. my dad giving me a book about blogging means i should stop.

i looked for jobs all day. by jobs i mean husbands. by look i mean browsed match.com

im kidding. of course i am.

i wish i was kidding when i tell you minnesota lice lady is hiring. she tricked me by saying it was a "fun" and "unique" work environment. hey lady, i've had lice. nothing about stuffing your stuffed animals into garbage bags and your mother combing your hair with chemicals and a stainless steel comb is fun. a unique childhood memory, maybe...but not fun.

i've had a lot of jobs. of course i'd like to have stability, money and health insurance. but when it comes down to it, i would have rather had a lot of jobs than a lot of boyfriends.

the great thing about all my work experience is that i keep gaining skills to make me a great mother. i can clean potties in 30 seconds flat. vomit, poop and other bodily fluids don't stand a chance against me. i can make beautiful bows on presents and fold a fitted sheet like a pro. commanding the attention of 35 high schoolers and making them do what i say is as easy as 1 2 3. i know what herbal remedies can help with colds and know the right temperature to heat milk for a baby. i'm still trying to figure out what my stint as a collating machine operator and ice cream vendor have taught me, but i'm sure it will become more clear as i mature. moms do a lot, you know.

i really hope i get to be a mom. i can't wait to dress my kids up like albert einstein and have them "walk on my back"(give me a back rub).   if i dont have kids though, it'll be ok. i hear the mn lice lady is hiring.

humpback hypocondriac

i have spent way too much time in the past couple days working on my monkey and chewbacca impressions...it's time i focused on what really matters--working out, taking mirror selfies and putting together cute outfits from forever 21.

i'm living with one of my best friends. a dream i never thought would be reality. now it's come true, and i don't know what to do next. pursue my dreams of stardom? fearless highway driving? maybe just having an actual dream (via actually falling asleep instead of staying up all night thinking about working out, mirror selfies and putting together cute outfits from forever 21.)

it's so fun to dream with my friend(s). we dream about our fall goals. we dream about loving our future families, delicious foods, and a world where we don't feel the pressure to dream about certain things in a certain way. it's nice to feel understood--even if our dreams don't align. being understood is one of the best feelings in the whole world. it doesn't happen often--grab onto those people who do. actually grab them. when they come out of the bathroom and don't know you're behind the corner. (it's really fun!)

in other news, my obsession with the wind in the willows has ended. i am now addicted to all things the secret garden. i asked my sister if we could listen to it on our drive to MN. she thought i said the sound of music soundtrack. she was wrong. she was not happy. i have watched 2 versions of the classic film and can't wait to get my mitts on the others. i want to pretend i am the boy who thinks he has a "hump" and lay in my bed and moan and groan all night because i think i am dying. i guess i already do that, but the way he talks about his imaginary hump just strikes me way too silly. i'll start adding that into my hypocondriac  lineup.

joey sadstone

5 people have asked me write a blog. that is pretty much someone begging garth brooks to put out a new album. or grow his hair back. seems impossible, but it can be done.

today i had the realization that i am turning into uncle joey from full house. i wish i could say i was more the uncle jesse type, but let's be honest. my hair will never be that great. my Bullwinkle impression, on the other hand, is impeccable.

uncle joey was stupid. even when i was little i knew he was. who was that weirdo who lived in their basement? he was old! he should have his own house, wife and kids. who does he think he is, leeching off of the tanners!? oops. there i go again, drawing similarities.

i really am ok with living with married people. it totally gives me a glimpse into the unknown--a world unseen--atlantis, if you will. i mostly like what i see, and anything i don't i just tell myself there's nothing money can't fix! and if money can't fix it, just turn on maury and count your blessings.

gentlemanly jerk.

i accidentally squirted sugar free vanilla syrup down my shirt, and now i have my first bout of "chestne". it's as gross looking as it sounds.

my friend told me that if i didn't write a blog a few weeks ago, she would punish me by eating a bowl of ice cream. I waited this long because i am a good friend. she deserves a lot of ice cream.

my grandpa punched a nurse in the eye.

my dad was feeling sick. i texted him and asked how he was doing. he told me "the male nurse is taking care of me." i was scared that meant he went to the hospital. don't worry. he was talking about my dog.

there are 5 really old men that come into my coffee shop every day. the other day, one asked me "why aren't you married?" i told him the truth- "i don't know!" with his wisdom, i know now the true reason..."not rich enough." and all this time, i thought i was looking for a rich man. i gotta cut out some frozen yogurt and get my bank account bumpin!

i've been friends with a certain boy for a very long time. i thought enough time had passed in our friendship for him to know that i used to have a very big crush on him. "most girls do" was his response. what a gentleman.

minimizer

i had to buy a bra. i didn't want to...but i had to. can we discuss how a single piece of fabric and wire and fasteners can cost SIXTY DOLLARS??? yes we can. and this is why we go the bargain route.

the problem with the bargain route is that you usually buy them where there is no secret. and there are men operating the cash register.

sometimes, it's funny. like when it's a 16 year old boy who has probably never seen a bra. surprise! you just got your mitts on the mother load, kiddo.

sometimes, it's not funny. like today. when it is a nice attractive young man who just wants to check out your home good items, your discounted tennis shoes and maybe your michael kors bag. instead he gets the pleasure of a unmentionable sized nude colored, there is nothing sexy about it, giant bra.

as i stood in line i said "please god, please god let me get the girl worker" but the automated "register 3, please" voice was as if god spoke directly to me saying "you are being punished." i don't know what i was being punished for..but it must have been something really bad. or maybe the man was being punished. either way we both were uncomfortable as he asked if i wanted a bag. i said no, but then instantly regretted it, having to gently take my undergarment out of his sweaty little hands.

pee pad positivity

can a person survive on only coffee and expired pastries? the answer is two-fold: yes and barely.

i only have myself to blame for this lethargy, achy bonez and generalized BLAH...but i'm going to blame the old bagels anyways.

about midnight last night, 3 hours into my slumber, i awoke to vacuums  loud voices and just a sense of emergency. apparently our bathroom flooded due to still unknown reasons. we're lucky my roommates keep a dog pee pad in there. i'm guessing it absorbed a lot of the overflow.

in college my room flooded because someone left a baby sock in the reserve water recycling sink. it was frightening, but i sure did learn a lot about water softening treatments.

when i was about 10 my family went camping. apparently it rained all night and i woke up alone, and in a puddle in my tent. i emerged cold and confused--where was everyone? why did they let me keep sleeping in a puddle? "your mom and sisters went to a laudr-o-mat to get dry." said warm and toasty chuck, sippin a coffee by the fire. it was worse than being forgotten at play practice...but not worse than being forgotten at church. it's important to be positive.

weird and awkward and funny.

in 2 weeks my first and only love is getting married. that's a little weird to know. actually, it is more than weird. it is highly uncomfortable. it's also a little funny. mostly awkward.

 it's funny how much life goes on even when you don't want it to and even when you resist the changes. it's weird that i knew everything about him and now i don't know anything. it's awkward because for awhile, i thought i was going to marry him.  weird and awkward and funny.

weird and awkward and funny are three things i know about, so i can say that.

i hope on june 1st that tiny little weight that still sits on my heart magically disappears. but if it doesn't i'm prepared. if people use little ankle weights to become stronger, i'm pretty sure the same goes for your insides.

the past week, i have been sleeping horribly. do you hear me? horribly. tossing, turning restlessness.  last night i thought to myself "maybe you should try sleeping on more than the top right corner." so i moved my books and 10,000 pillows and discovered that it is surprisingly comfortable to sleep right in the middle of your bed in a starfish position.

i have used the starfish position before. it was in slow motion, backwards off of a BLOB while wearing a life vest three sizes too large. there were witnesses, but thankfully the camera stopped recording right before it happened. it was an out of body experience for me. while i was slowly rolling, i knew what i looked like. once i hit the water, i had to choose to come back to the surface and face my shame. it was weird, awkward and funny. mostly funny.

such a big imagination on such a little pup

i choreographed a dance to beyonce's "love on top". i'll teach it to you, but you can only dance it while siting in your car...and mostly while you sit at stop signs, lights or make unnecessary pauses in the middle of the road to hit the arrow button back to the start. above everything else, you must have that sasha fierce attitude. check, check, check, check, check! someone write me a check for my sexy performance.

i wrote that and i laughed, but i'm almost sure that it isn't funny. sometimes i'm concerned that what happens in my brain does not connect with the masses. sometimes i'm not funny.

a regular customer came through the drive through. the girl on the headseat wanted to say something funny, but didn't know what to say. she told the guy that and he said to think of something for when he got up there. they all voted me to say something cause "you're funny, sonia". i walked up to the window and said "i have a wooden leg". i hope that proves my point.

i'm a criminal.

in high school, i wasn't allowed to leave for lunch because i failed my math class. i spent hours on the computer crafting a fake release card. when i got caught, i was too scared to show it and i got a detention. well, i got twelve detentions, but cried my way down to one. that fake id sat in my backpack, haunting me for years. in college i wasn't allowed to have my car on campus. i was upset about this, so i remember my youth's folly and once again, crafted a forged packing permit. my car sat happily without being ticketed or towed my entire junior year. take that systems!

it's really funny that i did those things because i thought i hated breaking the rules. i wait for the pedistrian crossings, follow the speed limit and put my trash in the designated bins. on the other hand, i do make photo copies of books from the library so i don't have to buy them, steal people's wifi and eat expired food...jeykll and hyde, baby. jekyll and hyde.

one of my favorite episodes of wishbone was jekyll and hyde. if you don't know what wishbone is, you are dumb, stupid and i feel sorry for you. take my advice and look it up on youtube. when you find a tiny dog acting out scenes from literary masterpieces, you've found the right clips. these things make me laugh more than almost anything else. i mean, c'mon! a little dog acting out the story of cyrano de begerac? funnier than wooden legs! 

video home system

i love a modern day mystery! this weeks case involved urine and fecal matter found on my bed. i've been putting together lots of clues, and so far i THINK it might be from the dog who lives here. can't be certain. i still need to question my housemates and take some forensic samples while manically playing my violin.

i found a recording of me + 20 pounds singing show tunes on the washington family ranch stage. i have never been more amused/embarrassed of myself. even watching alone, i would look around to make sure some secret viewer wasn't hiding behind me, snickering at my rendition of edelweiss. my friend threatened to send it to a "talent agency" but i was more scared of her sending it to the biggest looser. thankfully, i snuck it into my expansive collection of mid 90's sci-fi movies and it flew under the radar...just like the movies.

i love movies. what is more, i like movies on VHS. i would rather watch vhs than some sort of fancy HD any day...no matter what the film is. HD always seems like a mexican soap opera. i love the soft glow, the tracking lines and putting the cassette in the car shaped "rewinder" too much to buy into these new technology scams. i also buy all my technology from thrift stores...so until they get a better selection, i'm stickin with what i know!

ole, au lait

i always laugh when i wear my "boyfriend" jeans. partially because they're horrifically unflattering, but mostly because it would be really funny if i had a boyfriend who was size 4short. funny and unfortunate.

today was beautiful. the sun was shining, birds were chirping, kids were playing in the streets. i sat on the side of the road and read a book about murder.

i have to take my barista bar test next week. sometimes i excel under pressure, but most times i faint. i've always been scared of milk, but i'll be terrified of steaming it next friday.

my fear of milk runs deep. i guess it started when i bit my mother while nursing. (sorry. it's one of the only stories i know from when i was a little baby.) in elementary school i had to stay in the lunch room until i finished my lukewarm milk. i cried and cried and cried until they finally released me from my misery. i ran into my older sister in the hallway, who saw my pain. she could relate. she doesn't like milk either. safe to say, clayton elementary made a BIG mistake. i transferred to FVCA the next year...they didn't have the hot lunch option. or milk.

thoughts of thom yorke

a friend sent me a message saying that my blogs get her through her work day. that's too bad. excessive amounts of coffee and expired pastries get me through mine.

i got to spend 4 days with my family in sunny california when my sister graduated law school. best part of the trip was the choreographed dance my sister and i preformed to 90's christian hits. we forgot about amy grant. dang it!

if i'm being honest, i'm a little self conscious that i don't have extended degrees like my sisters. that's why im still holdin' on to my homecoming queen title. nothin' says intelligence like winning a competition because you dressed up like an oompa loompa and preformed a song from fiddler on the roof.

i miss my dog. no excuses. no appologiez. he loves me all the time and is always happy to see me and like treatz and will do whatever i tell him. where do i find a boy like dat?


i really like the idea of a coozy, but i don't drink anything in a can. can i have one without the other? i'll ask jesus when i get to heaven.

today i thought about working out. but then i thought about puppies, salsa, yogurt covered pretzels and radiohead's hail to the thief. so i didn't.

how do we feel about men in trench coats? if your answer is equal parts haunting and handsome, we're on the same page. i also feel the same way about christian bale.

i like watching movies from the early 2000's because their phones are worse than mine. comparison is the thief of joy, but also the bringer of technological self esteem.

i like old men.

i did something bad. real bad. big ass coffee after 7 pm. i know what happens when i do this, and yet i do it anyways.

maybe i like how my heart races. maybe i like how my eyes bulge wide like an anime character. maybe i like being hyper and reading 'the magician's nephew' to myself in horrible, yet amusing accents. maybe i just had a horrible headache and still think my liver is shot from many vicodins so i went the natural pain relieving route. or...maybe it's for all these reasons, and more.

i make a lot of foolish choices, but i think that's ok, as long as they don't harm anyone else. irrational decisions usually lead to some sort of fun adventure. sometimes, they lead to lack of money and no personal belongings. other times they lead to the middle of nowhere oregon, or canada. most every time they lead to new friends and experiences and stories to tell your grandchildren. tonight, they lead to funny voices and wide eyes and upper body dancing to carol king while hunched over in my bed.

my friend told me i had to have a crush on a human who is younger than a hundred, seeing as all my crushes are in the 65-70 age range. i don't know why i like these old men. they do say that you are attracted to a man like your father. maybe if my dad wasn't so old, i would have a bigger appreciation for people my own age. nah. they'd still be dumb to me.

why? i'll tell you why. boys smell bad and are stupid. if i were to reference prairie home companion, or charlie rose, jackson browne  or anything that happened between 1949-1989, they would still be thinking about fantasy football, video games or that girl who was wearing leggings so tight it looked like she was part seal.

i'm not saying it's their fault i don't like them. it's my fault. but it's their fault for making it mine. jk. i love boys... older boys. ok, men. old men. WHATS WRONG WITH ME??!?!?!

nothing.

things i learned spending easter by myself

i have always enjoyed doing things by myself. i like the time and space to think. i like the freedom to talk to myself. i like the ability to do whatever i want whenever and forever long i wish. i'm 18! i do what i want! on easter, that was my mindset. maybe because i didn't have any other choice, or maybe it was my choice. choices, choices, choices.

i spent all of the day alone, which isn't that rare. but, it was a first for me to go to church all by my lonesome. i walked in right on time and sat smack dab in the center of an empty row. that was weird.

it was a great service. the music was touching, the sermon exciting and everyone there seemed to be full of joy.

i walked out of church alone and didn't quite know what to do next. i awkwardly called all my family members. no answers, but no matter. i do what i want.

i walked downtown and got an iced tea and read some more of 'a moveable feast'. i watched a lot of people pass. lots of smiles, lots of laughs. i wanted to join them...or maybe i wanted them to join me. i was feeling awkward.

the weather was beautiful. i was wearing shorts and i'm pretty sure my forehead got tan. maybe the shorts are what made me feel awkward.  i bought a ginger beer and walked to a bench that looked over the water. the flowers and sun and water reflections were so pretty i cried. i sang for the beauty of the earth alone on that bench and wasn't even worried someone would hear. i said out loud "THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL, GOD!" and i thought about all the people i wished could see it with me. i was happy/sad.

and that's just it. my day was beautiful--filled with all good things, but even with all the beauty, and sun and hemmingway and ginger beer, it was lackluster. for as much as i love to do things by myself, there are moments and events and days that are meant to be shared with others.

i have spent a good couple years reinforcing to the world and to myself that i like independence. that i am happy sojourning from place to place without the need to be grounded. without the need of a home. without the need of a partner. i guess i am figuring out that i do need those things. i need a place to call home and grounding and partnership--whether it's romantic or not. i can do my life without them, but with them i could do life with joy and excitement to share.

not quite a nugget

i'm laying in my bed watching thumbelina on youtube. life is so good.

did you know barry mannilow lends his vocal talents to this screen gem? or is it rod stewart? well, i guess it doesn't matter because THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON. if there is one thing i am certain about in this life, it is this fact. cereal. google it and get on my team.

speaking of legendary vocalists, my first concert was Steven Tyler's aerosmith. i did more than hear good music at this concert. i learned about sex via middle aged strangers sitting below me, and saw steven tyler awkwardly fly across the stage on a trapeze via the help of a not so behind the scenes techie. i'll let you guess which event was more traumatizing. (the second one!)

speaking of traumatizing, i had part 2 of 3 or 4 of a root canal today. for the first time in my life i did not fear loss of consciousness during injections. i found singing a line of a backyard bible school song over and over in my head really calmed my nerves/brought be back to a time before PTSD. i also think i stored up all the nervousness and that it came out in a manic fit of laughter when the slightly masculine dental assistant began describing the "not quite a nugget" of gold she found in her mail order gold panning kit. something about the word nugget mixed with what i imagined myself to look like with a giant dental dam and protective glasses on made for a embarrassing/but not as embarrassing as fainting from a shot moment in the dental chair.

i think the dentist gave me a discount. maybe it's because i made him laugh from my laughing. maybe he feels bad for my root canal that wont stop bleeding, even after a month. maybe it's because i was accidentally touching his thigh the whole time today and didn't realize until the end of the procedure. maybe the price was correct, but i always like to put my faith in humanity. i'll pay it forward. most likely to aflac when they bill me for the remaining charges.

just in case, i am looking to fall in love with someone who has excellent health and dental benefits in the next 5 months. please don't think im shallow. benefits aren't the only thing i am looking for!  they also have to be hot.

i wear lipstick

ok. it's not actually lipstick. it's lip stain. i heard people who wear lip gloss get tipped more. based on the dollah dollah billz in the jar today, i'd say those statz are accurate.

i've always been on the fence with my femininity. growing up, i liked to play with frogs and wild animals. i liked to wrestle with my best friend justin. i liked to play football with the boys at recess. secretly though, i had a doll house. i would put dresses on in the privacy of my closet and look at myself in the mirror and imagine myself as one of the pretty girls in my class. i would decorate my room with flowers and lace and musical record sleeves (ok, that part is just plain weird). i liked girly things, but was embarrassed... so i had a middle part and wore over sized goofy shirts and soccer shorts and watched rudy and star wars and the pistol: the pete maravich story.

i'm not embarrassed anymore. i'm just lazy. i like shaving my legs and doing my hair and wearing lip tint... but no 'body got time for dat. i like cute outfits and decorating...but no 'body got monay for dat. i like boyz and kissing and flirting...but no 'body got patience for dat. i wish i still had that goofy shirt.

goofy is annoying, but i can let it slide because i am more concerned about all my unanswered questions about beauty and the beast. there are many. so so many.

silver ampersand gold

im coughing so hard im afraid i might pee in my pants... or worse. this is a serious problem without an apparent remedy.

i taught my dad to talk in an asian accent. well, i didn't teach him, but i've encouraged him. the other day i called him and he said "your dog got long nail. it hurt me real bad. scratch me in my knuckle". i laughed. he said "it not funny. dat hurt real bad in my knuckle". then i figured out he was saying nipple. i laughed so hard i almost peed in my pants.

laughing is fun, isn't it? losing your mind with happiness is one of the greatest feelings in the world. except for the raging headache you get afterwards. i imagine it's like drugs.

this early morning on my way to work, the moon was so big and bright and beautiful, i almost died. i tried to take a picture on my iphone, but we all know how pictures like that turn out. i only take selfies. and artistic photos of my food.

i think i'm growing up. i made a budget and want to be back in MN. these are both signs of adulthood. and dysfunction. and disillusion. mostly daydreaming.

good friends are hard to find, and when you find a lot of them it's hard to reason as to why you keep moving further and further away from them. some days, as i try to create a new experience and community here, i can't help but think i am a crazy fool. yes, it's true, make new friends and keep the old--one is silver and the other's gold. but isn't gold worth more than silver? based on the amount of gold buying stores in strip malls, i think the answer is yes.

shauna niequist captures my feelings more superbly than i could ever relay --here. isn't she right? i think she is. maybe all my friends could come here? i have plenty of blankets and starburst jellybeans!

i smell bad

i'm writing to you from the sick ward, which also doubles as my bedroom/home theatre/office/everything else. luckily for me, it doesn't smell like the sterile hospital environments i've grown to fear, but of coffee. lots and lots of old coffee.

i work at a coffee shop. i do love coffee. i love how it feels like a hug in the morning. i love the way it smells when the beans are freshly ground. i like talking about life and love over a little cup of brown. i do not love the lingering bitter odor that now follows me wherever i go.

i've never really been much of a shower lover. sure, it feels great if you are really dirty, to jump in that rain locker and wash away the grime. but, if your sweat has been minimal and your proximity to humans is limited, what's the point?

my lack of interest in showers has only increased since smelling excessively like coffee. every 3 days has turned into every 5. you might disagree with my logic, but you're probably stupid. you probably smell better. it's embarrassing, but not enough to make me change my ways. i just apologize to the strangers around me and hope they have a cold like me.

i feel like little gremlins are living in my head, scratching my throat with dirty acrylic nails and shooting very spicy salsa into my sinus cavities. in a stroke of coincidence, my friend broke his pelvis and  i picked up a hospital mask the other day. i'll start wearing it whenever i take public transportation, to protect the masses and look cool at the same time.

accidental hand touch

i saw a man who looked almost exactly like my ex-boyfriend from the back. shiver me timbers! it was a thrilling 30 seconds.

i also saw a man through a window who i thought was my friend adam. adam is goofy, so naturally, i gave him a goofy through-the-window greeting. the man who turned out not to be adam only seemed mildly amused. whoopsies.

mistaken identities are funny. when i was 12 a girl asked me if i was zak hanson from the the critically acclaimed brother band, hanson. i wish i was. he had beautiful hair and could play those drums like no one else.

my friend told me to join christian mingle. i told her i'd rather die sad and alone. she said "it's your funeral". ok, she didn't. but it would have been the perfect time to say it.  instead of joining, i browse the men's sweatshirt section of value village. no luck yet, but next week i may check out the over sized t-shirts. you never know whose hand you might accidentally touch, rifling through over washed cottons.

can't and won't

i put wilson grip tape on my prince racket. i'm a traitor.

i like tennis. i'm not good enough to not be embarrassed if i play you, but not bad enough to not be allowed to use my boyfriends $400 racket. ouch. it still stings.

i usually only like to do things that i know i am really good at. moderate ability makes me feel uncomfortable. i have sat out of many fun things because i am comme-ci comme-ci at them. what's with that? let's blame the scandinavian heritage.

i like to sing, but i won't let you hear it because 2 of my friends in high school are better than me. one time mr. oxly had every single person in choir sing a line and i thought i was going to die.  i said "i can't" when it was my turn. he asked "you cant...or you won't? i said both.


he got back at me. i don't tell a lot of people this, but he made me dress up in a puppet costume for our madrigal dinner. i had to dance around like a marionette doll while derek ledoux stood behind me on a box and was my puppeteer. all because i was the only one "small enough to fit in the costume". there is one picture of this. it is hidden in a box wayyyyyy under my bed.

i love my dad more than horses

today is my dad's birthday. he is probably older than your grandparents, but he is 100x cooler than them.

sometimes i think about how much i love my dad and i cry. I cry because the feelings are overwhelming and i cry because i don't think i could ever love a man more... and that really throws my falling in love plans for a loop. we've got time. we shall see.

this morning i ate a well-balanced breakfast of sour patch kids, cookies and cream ice cream and some fake caramel delights (or as the PNW calls them Samoas? hello, politically incorrect name!). Don't worry-- I brushed my teeth for 4 minutes afterwards.

i saw a mini-pony today and almost drove into the ditch. i love mini-ponies.

one time my family went camping and i pretended my dad was a pony as we went on a hike. i thought it was really funny to hit his butt with a "switch" aka branch. he didn't like it, but i wouldn't stop. finally, he mooned me to show the terror i caused his backside. unfortunately he did so right when another family turned around the corner. i was 5, but i remember it like it was yesterday.

i have always loved horses. when my dad traveled for business, i would always ask him to bring back a pony. 5 years into my request, he brought back a postcard with a horse on it. good enough for me.

my friend growing up lived on a horse farm. is it a farm? or is it a ranch? whatever it was, i would ride a horse named Kitchie without a saddle or harness or any of that business. there was nothing more exciting or frightening than flying through the fields with nothing to hold onto but some coarse horse hair. one time Kitchie bent over to eat and i fell off, but that didn't stop me from loving her.

don't even get me started on horse movies. is there anything better? i've never met a horse movie i didn't like...even the low budget "the rogue stallion" got me all misty eyed and excited for life. a horse movie to me is the equivalent of the father pushing his adult son in marathons to everyone else. SO EMOTIONAL.

seeking an abel magwitch, but no dramatic ending.

i asked a woman if she wanted a cup of ass instead of ice. freud must be snickering in his grave.

today is beautiful. i saw an old man with a beard riding his bike with the biggest smile on my face--it made me cry with happiness. there is nothing better than a genuine smile.

today something really odd happened. i flirted! flirtation is not easy for me, so much so that i usually do just the opposite if there is any sort of interest. something about this man's ponytail made me loose control of my inhibitions. i twirled my hair, batted my lashes and touched his muscles. or maybe i didn't? it's all a hazy ponytail love blurr.

i started looking at grad school programs. this is something i've always wanted to do, but never did thanks to undergrad student loans. i figure if i go back, i at least don't have to pay this little loan right now. i'm not good at math, but that seems like it works. please let me know if you know of any wealthy people lookin' to throw some dollahs at a gurl...you know where to find me.

string bikini

i had a really nice conversation with a 74 year old woman today. she was naked. it was wonderful. i would tell you more, but don't we all like a little mystery?

a corgi came through the coffee shop's drive thru today. stars aligned and time stood still as i just about jumped through the window. someone needs to tell my future special someone that renting a corgi for a few hours on every single birthday, christmas and other holiday needing gifts will do just fine. more than fine--it would be the most romantic thing possible. some girls like rose petals and chocolate. some girls like short legs and big ears. (ok, and chocolate, too! and gummies! and popcorn! and backrubs! and love notes! and cartoon drawings of each other! but mostly corgis...)

im glad it rained today. i didn't have to run. yesterday i terrorized the neighborhood with out of breath singing/screaming/panting to brittany spear's womanizer and uncontrollable "upper body dancing" as i ran through the neighborhood. i figure i am more embarrassed trying to act like a seasoned cardiovascular athlete. might as well enjoy myself.

i take back the word enjoy. i am going to go with be true to myself and not look at myself in my running shoes and think "you traitor".

i love being active. except when i'm chubby. then it's embarrassing, uncomfortable and just plain unnatural. kind of like a first kiss.

in my high school drama class i made a a fake commercial for lap-ban surgery. i wore a giant sweatsuit and stuffed it full of throw pillows. . the movie was hysterical. the class loved it. at the end of it, my teacher turned on the lights and told us that  he had that surgery. he still gave me an A.

i made so many movies in highschool. the best one was called 360 degrees of sk8rboyz. i played Hony Tawk. i brought a scooter to the skate park and asked 12 year old boys if they wanted to join my sk8 team called blink 182. my friend adam dressed up as a sexy latino girl and i tried to pick him/her off the ave. i ended up peeing my pants all over my friend rachel's mini-van. i made adam go to wal-greens to buy upholstery cleaner and new underwear. he came out with bleach and giant blue leopard and rose printed string bikini. boyz r so dumb!

no more pants

i went to a movie by myself...but i wasn't alone.

if you ask me there is nothing better than going to a movie by yourself...as far as activities you do alone go.

you don't have to worry about finding an entire row of seats for your friends. you don't have to wait for someone to go potty at the end. you just sit right down, open your smuggled plastic bag of bulk gummies and enjoy the show.

i looked around the theatre to see who was joining me. couples. couples. couples. and then a couple women in their 40's and 50's who were also enjoying the show alone. i was in good company.


i like being in good company but i also like being alone. i need to be alone a lot because my brain has a lot happening. i like to talk to myself and sometimes i do 10th grade show choir routines in front of the mirror. i like to not wear pants. that's the biggest reason i like to be alone.

pants are really a hassle sometimes. and please--people who sleep in pants? you are insane. you are like people who watch the nurses take the blood from your arm. crazy pant wearing lunatics.  don't your legs get hot? don't you feel trapped?

i tried to wear pants to sleep a few times. never worked. my friend aj would come and wake me up on the weekends and i would have him wait at the door to see if my pants somehow stayed on during the night. it wouldn't have mattered, i guess ,because aj did accidently see me without pants on once before. he also saw me dancing and singing to the little house on the prairie theme song. the latter was more embarrassing.

College Ruled (or the post that is uncomfortably uncharacteristic for this blog))

i have a spiral notebook in which i keep stories and notes that i would never post on here. there are letters to friends that i'll never send, poems i would die from embarrassment if you read, and lists.

lists of things to do. lists of things i love. there is even a list of 100 reasons i like one of my friends.

there is one list that was easy to write. it is long and ugly and if i read it over i cry. a list i wrote in a fit of hurt and sadness and confusion.

we all have a list like this, but mostly it is written on our heart and not in a notebook. its a list of all the things wrong with us. all of things that make us not good enough.

not good enough for him to like me.
not good enough for that job.
not good enough to have the life i dreamed of.
not good enough to be the person i was made to be.
not. good. enough.

i've been having a lot of not good enough days. transferring my notebook list to my heart. allowing these  little words to engulf my heart and mind, bogging my spirit down with self-loathing and feelings of unworthiness.

i tried to remedy this by making a list of all the reasons i was good enough. forced humility didn't get me too far.

i'm funny.
i'm smart.
i'm moderatly attractive.
i'm nice.

naturally, i scribbled them out. it was so much easier to name all the "bad" things.

i sat in my car crying today. wishing i was someone else. wishing i had a different life. wishing i looked different. wishing i could be all the things i wasn't.

then i would be worthy of his affection.
then i would be worthy of that job.
then i would be worthy of a happy life.
then i would be worthy to be the person i was made to be. the person i should have been.
then i would be worthy of god's love.

as i sat there, crying, contemplating, confusing other drivers with my poofy eyes and elephant tears god  told me something i already knew. something i think have always known but tell myself not to believe.

i am already worthy of all those things. that my list of all the reasons i am good enough is complete with just one phrase--god adores me.

i was created worthy of these things because i was created by god who reveled in design and creativity as he crafted humanity to resemble him, in all of his perfection and splendor.

i know my theology will be disputed, but i believe with all my heart that god adores me as is. he has created me perfectly. that i am not some despicable creature who's sins make me so unlovable that only an infinite being, who using all his strength, could love me, despite my backsliding. nor do i think that he loves me because of my sinning ways and his heroic grace. i think he just loves me.

as with many disillusioned evangelicals,  there is a deep seed to dismiss the goodness in myself. to not acknowledge the beautiful parts of humanity. we are, of course, retched sinners who are lucky to be loved, right? or wrong?...i've come to believe in the idea that we are as a whole not inherently bad. i think we're inherently good--but that we have a broken relationship with god that needs repair (think beautiful painting that must must be carefully restored to it's original glory via careful handiwork and gentle processes. is that a good cheesy analogy?). whoops. don't tell my theology professor.

what am i saying? do i make sense? it doesn't matter. most of the time i don't even understand myself. but it doesn't matter what i think. what matters  mostly is how i feel.

what i am feeling is relief. realization. reconnection.

i'm awesome. more than just smart and funny and nice and moderately attractive. i am a whole lot of wonderful things that were knit up all together to create me. a perfect amalgamation of colorful characteristics and unique qualities and beauty that stems from divine love. i'm a masterpiece created by a more talented artist than van gough, monet or degas.

and so are you. in all your hopelessly flawed moments, you're beautiful. god delights in your life as you really live. as you laugh and cry and wonder what the hell is happening, he is adoring the fragility and strength of your humanity.  

someone very wise once told me that the highest form of worship is to enjoy living. in all of its hardships and heartaches...to celebrate ourselves and others and really love each other and who we are too. to see each other as worthy of our time, energy and attention, because we are worthy of the lamb/love/life/happiness/sadness/ in all of our moments. in our triumphs and mess ups and all those awkward times in between, . etc. etc. etc.  blah blah blah. good reminder to me as i struggle to find my bearings in a new place. as i am feeling alone and exposed and wondering where to plant my feet and with whom to celebrate and cry with.

it is going to take a lot of confidence to push "publish" on this weird little note i've written in my bed next to an old banana peel and the spiral notebook.  it's awkward and strange and written in 15 minutes with furious fingers and tears and laughter and some john mayer music. it probably didn't make you laugh, but i did because it is outrageously vunerable for me to share--thoughts and feelings my usual "total depravity" tells me to go without sharing...pretty much straight from my spiral notebook... but they're important to me, and maybe to you too.

15 dollar ikea blanket cocoon

today was a bad day, but the great news is that tomorrow will be better! how do i know? because i was on the dean's list.

bad days are a dime a dozen. for me, they're usually caused by lack of sleep... which is surprising, because the best days of my life were spent in the edgren study lounge until 5 in the morning. i guess christer casem did find me catchin' some zzz's with my arms behind my head and one knee propped up when i shouldda been in creative writing. i didnt need it. i gotz good grammar and sentence structure.

my mom said when i was a baby, i never slept more than 10 minutes. sorry, mom. i'm making up for it now. i love me a good nap. cocooning myself in blanket happiness, putting on my pretty little fan and loosing myself in partially lucid dreams. add a dog in that mix and i am in 7th heaven. barry watson, jessica beil and i are on very good terms these days. don't awake me until i am ready though, or a beast will be awakened. this beast makes very strange noises and contorts her body in awkward positions until joints pop to perfection. an ipod alarm slowly introducing a soft james taylor song is the best way to go about it...but even that can be dangerous.

i wear an apron at work. that came in really handy today when i had no choice but to wear a pair of pants a size too small. aprons protect your clothing from spills, but also your customers from seeing that you didn't zip or button your pants.

no look ball

for the rest of my life, i have to have a job. that is, of course, if i don't become permanently disabled. the rest of my life could be a pretty long time. i should start to figure out what i should do. i figure by the time i figure it out, i will only have about half my life left. that doesn't seem quite as long.

one of my best friends in the whole world is coming to visit me soon. we're not quite certain how we became such kindred spirits, but it had something to do with being the only two chubby people in our group of friends. and our love of spicy chips and top the tater. in the heyday of our friendship and at our heaviest weights, we thought of a fun game to play outside of our leadership class in college. we called it "no look ball". you basically played catch while using only your peripheral vision. it doesn't sound too fantastic, but believe you me, it brings the lolz. one day we got a little to into the game and didn't notice our class had started. when we realized this we made a run for the door and as we both tried to enter at the same time, we got stuck. i am not joking. WE GOT STUCK IN A DOORWAY. we attempted 3 times to shove our portly little bods through that frame until we fell to the ground laughing. can this get better? yes-- the class was praying. katie realized and ran away. i did not and continued to lay on the carpet laughing hysterically. i looked up, and saw everyone else looking down. teacher asked me if i'd like to join the class. i didn't, but i did.

we once entered a speaking competition. we had no idea what to expect. i found some weird duo monologue about overweight women and their plight. we added really great midwestern accents to give it a special flair. when we showed up to the competition, everyone was very serious. the speeches before us were about, and i am not joking-- rape, death and patriotism. our number was called and we could only look at each other with fear and amusement. we finished to a silent and stunned crowd. somehow, we were just a point away from going to the finals.

we went through a season of life that whenever we'd see and old truck we'd do a double take. usually old trucks have old men in them...but sometimes they would have an attractive young man wearing an old baseball hat. distracted driving at its finest.

katie and i always wanted to travel europe together. when we realized we were too poor for that, we settled for a cross country road trip. we taped a construction paper queen named "dawn" to our GPS and laughed like maniacs, highway to highway. we bought matching fake tattoo tankinis from a kmart in montana and had an indoor water park to ourselves. we slid down the slide together, the back of our thighs making squeaky noises to an audience of men and children watching from their respective balconies. we went potty in a biff on the top of a mountian and felt the ice cold air give our bums a thrill. we made fools of ourselves from state to state and i have never had a better time.

when katie got engaged i cried for a week. maybe more. i was scared to loose my fellow dreamer and laugher. the great news is, she is still both those things and more. i can't wait to have her in my new home and feel at home in her friendship. if i am anne she is my dianna. if i am jo she is my laurie. if i am a spicy chip, she's my top the tater.

PTL, sexy glasses

PTL PTL PTL PTL PTL PTL PTL

ptl for needles and drills and big bibs and x-ray machines.

for the first time in many moons i can think straight. i can smile without wincing. i can do what i wanna do (except eat hard candy or chew bubble gum.)

i feel like a million bucks. well, whatever a million minus $1500 is...but i don't even care at this point. it could have been the sleep deprivation, intense consumption of vicodin or general helplessness...but i have never wanted to kiss someone more than my dentist. i owe him my life...$750 and naturally some french kisses. or maybe just a lingering hug. i begin my life all over (great book/new mantra.)

even with these glad tidings, i am nervie. nervie that i will no longer have anything funny to write about. i guess i can always fall back on making fun of my job, body, life

i'm "watching" the oscar's right now. when i was little i wanted to be an actress so i would pretend to make acceptance speeches in the mirror. i got pretty good at them--forced tears, witty jokes, "i told you so's" to the 5th grade boy who called me Pumba. i'm not sure when that dream died...but i think it was sometime during my NHS production of flower's for algernon. specifically backstage when a boy named Alex touched my lower back and told me i looked sexy in glasses.

i have a pair of glasses i am supposed to wear when i drive at night time. i don't wear them because someone told me i looked like a lesbian in them... which is better than being called sexy, i guess...but nevertheless...i don't want to be associated with them (the glasses or terms) anymore. i also lost the glasses for about a year, but that is irregardless.

oprah's bra

i've had a toothache for 7 days. no. it must be much longer than that. when you have a toothache, time stands still.

i don't think ache accurately describes the torment this little piece of dentin is causing me. my knee aches when it rains. my back aches when i sit for too long. this is not an ache. this is terror. i feel like someone is living inside my tooth, thinking of all the mean things he can do to make me break. i've only cried once, but he is winning.

i have layed awake at night, head throbbing, thinking of creative ways to pull my tooth out without too much blood. i wish i could make a time machine and go back to the old west where a swig of whiskey and a prayer were the precursor to a man name hank, pulling the bad boy out with a rusty pair of pliers. i would let him. i would.

to forget my pain, i decided to go running. running is something i hate...nay, that i loathe. what pain could be worse than that of a infected root? running. the heavy breathing. the heavy breasts. the mental boredom. the burning sensation in nose. the inability to keep earbuds in. the public shame. i decided i could no longer withstand tooth death and went for a more participatory torture.

i pulled my stripped socks up to my calves. my black shoes that give the illusion of Velcro were fastened tight. a bright blue pair of 100%  cotton shorts, from some awkward 1980's gym uniform accompanied 3 sports bras and a shirt with a pig on it as i braved the elements. dimly lit streets welcomed my embarrassment as i fumbled with the electronic contraption i gave up on 20 seconds into my 13 minute escape. i found myself hoping someone would try to chase me, but quickly realized my outfit would most likely act as a repellent. each step i took i thought about how horribly out of shape i was. when i felt like crying i made myself imagine myself so fat i had to be sponge bathed by an unlucky relative. that thought got me back home.

my plan worked for 13 minutes. i didn't think about my tooth. i thought a lot about sports bras and death, but not about my tooth. i came back to my room and lifted by shirt up and saw my tummy in the mirror. "better luck next time" i told him. next time? maybe. considering the dentist won't be my friend for another week, this may continue.

i am preparing for that by ordering a sports bra recommended by oprah and that girl from mad men with giant knockers. it looks like a pair of shiny grandma underwear reconstructed to be a middle ages shield... and i am pretty sure i'd rather have this toothache for the rest of my life than anyone ever seeing me wear it.

i like dogs and chili

i got a big tip and a wink today, but could only keep the wink because my apron isn't monogrammed yet. as long as i have a pin with my name on it, i can't keep those dollar bills. i should give the wink to my sister. she can't wink.

i'm serious. deanna can't wink! it's bizarre and unnerving. of all my talents, i might value winking the highest. just a bat of some eyelashes and you can communicate so many things--flirtation, admiration, but mostly creepiness.  what a shame that such an accomplished young lady can't close one eye at a time. luckily for her her sister is the secretary of hugs, kisses and winks, too.

i feel my sister dee doesn't get much screen time here. i have pleanty of stories, i just fear i might tarnish her future in public law. oh well, i've waited long enough and now it's time to dish.

dee is wonderful. she's cute and has more clothes than your average girl...but she mostly gets them by swindling her local consignment shop.

dee has a long history with creepy guys. maybe that's why we relate so well.

the first time i fainted, dee was there to comfort and console me. sarah was in the garden.

dee has been present in many of my most bizarre experiences. i'm glad she has been because when people accuse me of making things up, i can put her on speakerphone and have my name cleared. she would never lie. she's going to be a lawyer.

one time in our mid twenties dee and i cowered in the back of a tent because a girl was mad at us for not eating her chili-dogs. sorry, not sorry. i like dogs and i like chili, but only patrons of foodbourn illnesses go for the combo.

that same night dee would politely ask to put her cold hands on my tummy to warm them up. my above average body temp was the least i could do for the girl who has come to my rescue many times.

one time dee and i spent the entire 5 hour trip from our college to home prank calling people with an Indian accent. we also spent a whole summer working at a school supply factory. I fainted, due to heat, but dee was my number one supporter as i fought for workers rights and left a frightening complaint in the "comments" box. one week later, each station had a fan.

i haven't really told any embarrassing stories yet, but that just means i'm saving them for later. we'll call this an appetizer...or perhaps an h'orderve if you wanna get real fansay like.

have you ever seen anything grosser than a fancy feast commercial? it's like the feline version of a chili dog.

dontcryoverspiltalmondmilk

i'm laying in my bed eating jelly-flops. ok i am not, but i wish i was.

i am sitting on the floor eating cereal with almond milk. almond milk is a new adventure as i despise milk of all forms. so far so good. that is after i spilled my entire bowl onto my orange carpet. can't see it, but i'm sure i'll smell it soon.

i guess it used to be a thing for when a woman got married, she would take her breakfast in bed. married women have all luck! they get to eat in bed AND get their backs washed.

there are about 7 boys in my living room. i had to sneak into the main room to get some almond milk, and i said "i feel like i should wear a boy disguise to fit in". one of them said i didn't need one--i was already one of the guys. boom boom boom. i'm guessing he meant a really feminine gay man...

maybe it has to to with the sweatsuit or carhart hat. maybe its my boy like lower body. all i can say is there comes a time in every young woman who has ever been compared to a boy multiple time's life to start wearing mini skirts and cleavage exposing leopard print shirts. look out bellingham!

geodesic dome art

I love popcorn. I really really do. When I was little my family would watch lawerence welk and eat popcorn for dinner on Sundays. My dad had this big wooden bowl that said "chucks popcorn" and the deliciousness inside soon became chucks famous popcorn. I could eat popcorn everyday, and when I'm home I think I do. This year for Christmas, my gift was the whirley pop. Bittersweet,man.

When I have a family I hope to institute such fabulous traditions as lawerence welk popcorn Sundays.   I love traditions. Traditions are like socially acceptable compulsions. Anytime mental illness is mainstreamed, I'm on board.

I've been a little melancholy lately. Nothing to be worried about. I mostly wanted to use that word. It's a good one.

I love words, but I'm a horrible speller. Surprisingly though, I'm great at wheel of fortune. Spelling isn't important. Either is math. Mrs. Mott of 10th grade geometry will disagree. She told me I'd never make it in life without it. I've really showed her! Maybe I can work some geodesic dome art into my lattes.

I love geodesic domes! More than lawerence, but less than popcorn. I know what I like.

i'm not as young as i used to be.

there are now valentine day displays out. to be really accurate they should also include pizza hut coupons and boxes of chocolates that students give to their professor who then gives it to their son who then gives it to his girlfriend. just sayin'.

i miss my dog so much that my tummy hurts. sometimes i'm frightened by how much i love my dog because i think if i ever have a human child, my heart might explode. my heart might also explode due to the fact that i ate an entire package of fudge sticks and 2 pieces of pizza at 10pm. that also might be the reason for the tummy ache. who knows.

i start my job on monday. i thought of having a celebration/bon voyage to laziness party, but as it turns out i'm just bringing some beans and peppers to some boy's house. could get hot with the peppers. we'll see.

the great thing about my new job is that it requires a black on black outfit. second only to jean on jean, black on black is flattering, easy and doesn't require a gold vest. i once had to wear a gold vest and have never felt so disgusting...or like a native american blackjack dealer. at least i know god looks at my heart.

IM OUTTA HERE.

before and after: buttered popcorn bucket

if you're interested in delighting your nostrils with the delicious scents of jelly bellies, you're in luck. a $1 air freshener smelling of "very cherry" has been discovered at Bellingham's finest: BigLots. While I would prefer Buttered Popcorn, I can't say I am disappointed with the affordable and adorable jellybean hanging from my rear view mirror.

i fainted again. luckily for me, the last two times i've fainted, i'm already laying down. dentist chair. bed. nothing like loosing consciousness in comfort.

i got a job. congratz, sonia. i don't know what i'll do when i don't have whole days to accomplish simple tasks such as laundry or making a bed. i don't know what i'll do when i don't go to bed at 2 in the morning thanks to cool runnings, little women, anne or martha inc-the story of martha stewart. i don't know what i'll do when i shower more than twice a week. i don't know what i'll do when i make new friends and have an income. i don't know and i don't wanna.

something i do not like: sleep number bed commercials. excuse me? only gross murderers sleep on mattresses without sheets or blankets.

something i do like: the convenience of spraying fabreeze fabric refresher in the pits of my dressy jacket before an interview. dry clean only? i'll show you.

i have to get a membership at costco so i can buy razors in bulk. one day i'll have to shave my legs, and i'm sure i'll need multiple blades. that is gross, but i figured its the least of all the embarrassing things i've shared in this web 2.0 forum.

a long overdue acknowledgement / lifelong offering of thanks:

edwina cuttwater- you've changed my life. While i love the novelty of my $10 walmart phone, nothing makes a woman feel more refined, sexy and smart than a smart phone. your generosity to a stranger, while absolutely unexpected,  is not surprising considering you helped create the most considerate young man on the planet. when i heard about the popcorn bucket, i knew you were special. thank you from the bottom of my heart  and from my outstretched fingers on this tiny little screen. i'm already on the look out for tickets when no doubt goes back on tour...on me. you just get the popcorn.

righterz block sugz

i am at starbucks looking for jobs...but mostly looking at people. i got a $25 gift card thanks to a generous soul and now i have at least 20 opportunities to creepily watch people. (as long as i don't get any flavor shots. then we're looking at 10 opportunities.)

you can see some weird people do weird things when you're secretly watching. one lady has been discreetly eating pickles. one man has a legitimate brittany spears microphone on. a lady dumped out most of her coffee and filled her cup with half and half. i love people, but i mostly love watching weird people.

a man just winked at me. unfortunately, he's not weird, so i'm not interested.

normal people make me feel uncomfortable. of course i know that no one is normal...but those who have enough self control to appear so intimidate me. how do they do it? how do they silence the voices?

update: he has begun some groin stretches with a come hither look over the shoulder. this is my chance.  whoops. missed it.

one time i went sledding and pulled my groin so baldy i peed in my pants. snow pants, that is. thank goodness jonathan banfield was there to pull me back to my dorm in the sled. i should have stretched beforehand.