You were a great year:
retarded everyone is. I'm also not saying this because I'm smarter than everyone. More so, this feeling comes from the inability to say what I really feel. And what I really feel, at least in the beginning, is only a mild sort of impatience with someone's actions. It has nothing to do with their intelligence (or lack thereof) but rather with situational (i.e. diplomatic) requirements which deem me dumb. Then, as the forced silence grows, so does the frustration and it eventually turns to thoughts of "everyone's an idiot but me" despite the original "offense" of the anonymous other being slight. I hate feeling like this.
I really hate dejavu.
day. Or, at least, they should. It's no wonder that marriages fall apart; that lovers leave; the feelings fade. Who can constantly decide that they want to breathe air or drink water? After being together for a while, for some people "a while" could be two days or two lifetimes, but whenever that period comes, people get comfortable. They get lazy. Somewhere along the way the love can turn to familial love, which is not to say that it doesn't work or that people can't be happy that way. 
Ring ring.
But any zit is a pain in the ass (er face). Lately I've been getting one huge zit on my chin. Then, as soon as that one is gone, I grow another one. Only one at a time. Red and angry. Personally, I blame all the holiday stress. Oh, and I blame the cold weather for chapping my lips which requires me to wear chapstick to bed which then gets on my chin which clogs pores and causes pimples. The worst part is that I can't stop picking at them. I peel off a layer of skin and then try to leave it alone, but the next day I'll be peeling off another layer. I think that the one zit is more obvious because it is all by itself. I smile, it smiles. I talk, it talks. Like a friend...that I hate.
wonder of childish fantasies, the spirit continues. After all, Christmas is all about being childlike: giving selflessly, accepting graciously, becoming excited about silly things.
I fake moved to China which caused me to give away my Christmas tree. I moved into a new apartment and wanted to have a tree. I borrowed an extra one from my parents.
It sits in a box.
Every day I plan on putting up the tree. Every day I plan on decorating it. Every day goes by without tree or decorations.
Christmas is coming soon. I hope I get it up before Christmas or I will hate myself.
time of year of excess? The time when we all celebrate our good fortune for the past year and indulge in treats and presents and give gifts and spend lots of money? And what better way to show our collective success than to gain weight? It's like in 'Fiddler on the Roof' when Topal wants a wife with 3 double chins to show how rich he is. We are all working towards our figurative (or actual) double chin during the holidays. Look at us - we can eat whatever we want! We're so prosperous! Look at all the excess! 
So, at my work Christmas is the busiest time of year. Many people have to work extra days and extra hours and it's pretty sucky for them...and us. We supervisors try to make it more fun by doing the "12 Days Before Christmas" which is where each day has a theme and we dress up or something fun. See list:Because I'm working 6 days I will be there for all of them - with the exception of Dessert Day (thank God I'm missing that one) - and I'm planning out my wardrobe. It's a fun (albeit busy) time, but I love it!
This is it. The last day off before the craziness of "Christmas" strikes. The last day off when I do not have anything "to do." Nowhere to run, no chores, no obligations. Only an obligation to laziness and relaxation. I am going to lay in bed all day. Sometimes I will go down to the kitchen for food, but I will eat in bed, read in bed, sleep in bed.
Our life is decidedly "techish" but I'm not one to complain because I'm not dying at the age of 30 and I'm not bored. I don't mind being semi-dependent on technology because I'm also semi-dependent on oxygen - and to me, there is little difference. A contestant on "Survivor" said that they enjoyed their time because they were able to "detox from technology." Okay, what? Technology is in our lives to better it. It does not control us. We control IT. It is a tool for us to use and use to excess if that is what we choose. Sometimes people tell me that they don't like having a cell phone because they hate the feeling that they can always be contacted, bugged, pestered, and so on. And to those people I say: don't answer your phone. It's that simple. We can use tech stuff to make our lives better and when we don't want to use it, we can put it away. I don't feel that it controls our lives, it simply takes us far and away from cavemen. We've evolved and it's fabulous.
Please help me find the following items for my household:
Ahhhh!
The bed is supposed to be a haven; beautiful bedding complete with piled pillows, blankets, and a comfy mattress. It also helps to have a comfy sleeper next to you. Currently, our box springs and mattress are on the floor. I hate this for many reasons, one being that, while I'm sure there is no difference, I feel like I'm not sleeping as well as I usually do. My neck feels quirky, my back stiff, my shoulders squishy. But the main problem is a twofold problem: I can't put up the bedframe because it is so old we can't move it once it's up and I don't yet know where I want to bed to go so I guess we'll just keep sleeping on the floor until I make up my mind. Hopefully my mind won't get a crick in it...
Dear Body: 
photos reads "Harold + Johanna Rose 1983" in his swirling left handed cursive..jpg)
I'm a weird procrastinator. I will wait until the specified time I've designated in my own mind and then at that point, everything must be done. Of course, the designated point is generally the day/hour/minute before absolute breakdown. For example: shopping for Thanksgiving. I'm making all the side dishes and my mom is making the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. So, I have a lot of cooking to do and that means I have a lot of shopping to do because Tom and I don't have random Thanksgivingy foods lying about. I don't like to go this close to "the day" because it is usually a mad house with lots of women out for blood for the last cube of butter and then it's a race to a long line at the checkout stand but my procrastination told me to go today...and I have no say in the matter. To my joy - my local grocer had each and every checkout line open! Yay! Go team!
want to ruin my own festive season, so may I simply (and un-soapboxily) suggest reading some literature?
perhaps if we are going through a nasty divorce and we want to cut the other one off from all the funds. But this is not us. We are stable. We are like a semi-single unit of thought. We make decisions together - but we don't need to actually BE together when the deed needs to be done.
I throw in the noodles (only spiral or character shaped - NO elbows for us) and turn down the heat. After soft to the bite, the water gets drained and in go milk (an extra splash for good measure), faux margarine (the extra healthy, no trans-fat, no hydrogenated, plus omega 3s, plus flax seed crap), and cheese packet. Mix it up and then comes the best part: my test bite. Every time I make Tom's m and c I get one spoonful of cheesy, milky, piping hot noodles. You know, to make sure I made it right.
I have a bad habit of starting projects - or sometimes not even starting them - and then not finishing. I have no follow through. This is one of my worst qualities and I try not to become discouraged and start hate-ing myself. After all, I am an Aries (not that I believe in that crap) and inability to finish projects and birth in April apparently go hand in hand. Maybe someone can help me? Yeah, no. Another Aries trait (again, I claim disbelief) is independence. I will get around to these projects, finish them on my own, and they will be just as fabulous as if they were timely.
Many days I consider myself quite fortunate to be a girl. Most particularly, when Tom is running around looking for items like keys, wallet, badge, etc., when I can simply pick up my purse and be out the door. Not only are purses a fashion statement that is incredibly functional and versatile, but they are, let's face it, a dumping ground for all the little things that make life run smoothly.See? A man could never have this type of convenience - unless he carried a fanny pack - and then he would be shunned by society.
Of course, there are various downsides to having a purse. Namely: you have a bag all the time. You are never as free as "man with wallet" because you are toting on your shoulder "responsibility." My husband likes to use my purse when we go to the movies; as soon as we sit and the lights dim his wallet and keys and receipts and various bits of paper in his pockets become lost in the depths of my purse. And after the movie comes the inevitable digging about for his lost articles. But women don't have the luxury of putting things in their pockets because societal fashion deems women's pants be "hugging" and anything other than a stick of gum will be totally obvious. Also, when you have a purse you keep adding to your load. You think to yourself, "Oh, this will fit, I will just throw this or that in" and next thing you know, lifting your purse causes tennis elbow, engorged biceps, and defined triceps. Another annoyance connected with purses is when the damn thing tips over. My purse does not zip so a tip-over spills the contents all about. It's dreadful.
These negatives associated with purses are small problems that are easily overlooked when you take into account all the freedom purses allow for. When you have a purse you need never worry, as long as it is well stocked and fashionable.
Yum.
We have to read this book. 
Went to yoga yesterday and apparently something we did made my hamstrings super sore. Now, not only do sore hamstrings make walking/running/sitting/moving in general pretty slow and painful, but the toilet seat is a killer.
8 Favorite Movies
8 Pet Peeves
8 Favorite TV Shows
8 Favorite Restaurants
8 Things That Happened Yesterday
8 Things to Look Forward to
8 Things On My Wish List
Done.
These people are wrong. 
God, I was so bored today, despite having accomplished quite a bit:So to save myself I went to Target and shopped around. I bought some discount shirts. Yay. Sometimes I hate my days off because I get incredibly bored even if I have plenty of things to do. Does this happen to anyone else?
"cocoon" to envelope, so he thrashes his legs about until the sheets pull free and uses them to create a cocoon of bedding.
Doesn't that sound lovely? Yeah, not so much. I really hate the class, but it does what it's supposed to - that is, kick ass - so we keep going. Twice a week. Bleh.
I think snow is beautiful and everything, but only when you're inside, or perhaps when you're bundled up warm. When you're on your way to work, however, snow is not okay. It sticks to the car. So you have to wipe off the car. And you're on your way to work so you're wearing a dress or perhaps thin dress pants. And your shoes aren't the best for trekking through the snow. And maybe, even worse, you have to scrape the ice off of the windshield. The roads are thick with traffic because the snow is sticking to the ground and everyone is driving pathetically slow to prevent sliding into other vehicles. So your drive to work is a stress filled 30 minutes. And then you're late.
Ta da! I did it. I have, for 8 consecutive weeks, lost 1.5 lbs every week - equaling a grand total of 12 lbs. Yay! And, the best part, I am now the proud owner of $33 that I didn't have before. It's like someone paid me to lose weight and look better. Who can beat that? I love this weekly weigh-in thing. And I guess it's a good thing because I'm doing another 8 week-long contest with my work friends.
I am fucking starving. 
rhyme, rhythm, and so on. Perhaps it is because as a child I wrote pages of poems - silly rhymes and nonsense streams of words with similar sounds, gifts given to family members were poems about their name or their traits - but it pleases me to write outside of the proverbial prose box. I like to wrap my mind up in the sound of words. I like to read poetry and analyze how the words work together, and I also like to simply listen to the way they sound - leaving behind all my poetic theory. 
Yeah. Mine are incredibly short and stocky.See - rather than try to hide my stumpy legs, I try to show them off in cutesy ways. This makes people associate them with "little" or "child-like" or "adorable" rather than seeing them as "unremarkable." Perhaps in a future life I will have the legs to be a model or a ballerina, but in the meantime I will settle for using what I've got to the best of my ability.
I can't wait for you to move into the White House because you and your family are adorable and I love the 4 of you so much. You have restored my faith in the American family and the American public and the American ideal that a person can DO what they want and BE what they want no matter what.
