Oh the delicious horror.

McDonald's is bad for you. Yeah, I know. But there are a few things that are so full of magic and drugs that I can't help but love them.

1. Cheeseburger: This is the greatest cheeseburger ever. Yeah, you can order your gourmet frou frou burgers elsewhere, but this is just perfect. Cheese, simple bun, and ketchup that is most likely injected with uppers. Seriously. I could drink McDonald's ketchup, and don't you dare tell me it's like any other ketchup. That's a freaking lie. It's magically delicious.

2. Sausuage Egg McMuffin: Best. Breakfast. Ever. This saved another bridesmaid and myself the morning after a raucous bachelorette party, also being the morning of the wedding. P.S. Do not ever plan these events for consecutive days. Bad idea.

3. Hashbrowns: I could take or leave the fries, but this is where the deep-fried potato goodness is at.

It really is a good thing I don't have a McDonald's in my town or I would so be there tomorrow. Mmmm... Drug ketchup.

Oh, bother.

I just drank a diet soda.

I always fail at Lent. Maybe next year...

Really, I am going to give up diet soda! It's just that its filled with crack and other addictive substances, I'm pretty sure. Perhaps I just lack sufficient will power. The funny thing is that I called Shawna to tell her I was wearing actual pants yesterday, and told her I hadn't had any diet soda and felt oh so accomplished? Pants and no diet soda, all in one day! And before I knew it that day became today and here we are.

Let's start this "no diet soda" thing again, shall we?

You know what's annoying?

Spending two hours on Target's website because you want to buy a present for a baby shower.

And then realizing that, yeah, you want to add things to your cart so you can spend $50 and get free shipping. But wait! The baby's gift doesn't count towards the $50 so you need to spend even more money. And you realize you really would have been better off if you just went to the store and bought the gift there in the first place. But you've already wasted so much time online that it would hurt your pride to back down now.

That is how my coveted green jacket, black dress, stripey purple scarf, and a $2.50 purse came to be my future possessions. This was a very exhausting and purse-lightening ordeal.

Sweatpants

...are awesome. I should probably be ashamed of how often I've worn them lately.

I had a moment of worry yesterday cause I remember reading some random weight loss tip about how a person should avoid wearing stretchy things like sweatpants too often cause they don't tell you if you've packed on a few pounds. So I weighed myself, and I haven't. My sweatpants and I are free to live a life of love, affection, and comfyness.

Happy 77th birthday, Johnny.

You're sassy and full of piss and vinegar.

I like it.
Awesome expression, bt-dub.

Lent

Sometimes I like to give something up for Lent, even though I'm not religious, just cause everyone else is and I like to feel included. Also, it's intriguing to try to give something up for that long. I get the meaning behind it and such, but really I'm just a sucker for punishment.

Here are the things I should try to give up this year:

1. Diet soda.

2. Stupid teenage novels about vampires (too late, I already finished them)

3. Chocolate (ha!)

4. Sweatpants (unemployment provides way too many reasons to not wear real pants)

Here is what I probably will give up for Lent this year:

1. Diet soda... for about a week.

Roll over, Beethoven.

This is probably the best $4 I have ever spent at a thrift shop!  A mini Beethoven bust!  I totally passed over Chopin and some other composer dude for Bitty B.  My love for him may be slightly inappropriate.  Just saying.

I'm going to take him for a picnic in the spring.

Please pardon the horrible phone picture.

An "aha!" moment...

I really thought I was losing my mind for a few days. Like, lock me in a cell, don't give me sharp objects, going to be friends with Winona Ryder sort of crazy. Turns out that lack of sleep just seriously messes with your brain.

I must have looked like I felt on Monday, cause my father gave me a sleeping pill and ordered me to take it. Eight full hours of sleep later, I felt much more sane. Aha!

Last night I tried to go it alone and was back to nightmares and restlessness, but it was better than before, at least. I'm hoping that soon I'll be able to sleep like normal again.

One weird dream I had last night consisted of me running a half marathon... how is it fair that I worry about training while I'm freaking sleeping?!?!?! Not okay.

So, I guess I'm really really stupid.

After warning all of you yesterday on the perils of the "Tropical Torture," I decided to mix up another one today and replace the blueberries with a banana. Bad idea. I spent all of work today suffering from stomach cramping and heartburn. Nice. It is official: pineapple + kiwi = terrible terrible pain.

Also, today I ate my third batch of chicken fried rice made in two days. I feel very ill from all of my eating choices as of late.

Did any of you watch The Biggest Loser tonight and witness Bob's emotional soul-baring moment? What about that background music? Anyone else want to laugh at the horrifying dramatics? Me too.

This is what my life has come to.

I have just read the entire "Twilight" saga (all four books) in essentially four days.

I feel as though I should be more embarrassed by this than I truly am.

I may think I have problems, but at least I'm not a tortured, adolescent vampire, right?

Tropical Torture: Try it if you dare.

I have invented a new fruit smoothie, and I shall call it the "Tropical Torture." It is awesome and promises to melt your esophageal lining. Score! I created the recipe for this glorious item earlier this morning, and it took me two hours of slow and painful sipping to finish.

The ingredients:
Kiwi
Pineapple
Blueberries
Orange Juice
Ice

Apparently the combination of these fruits creates some super acidic weapon of death and deliciousness that burns when you gulp it down. Try it for yourself. If you can drink your whole glass, I dub thee non-weenyish.

I can be such a girl sometimes.

I keep having these nightmares, and as a result I am not sleeping very soundly lately. It's terribly unsettling. And it makes me sleepy a lot. Anyhow, I feel very silly about all of the not sleeping because I am of the opinion that I should not be affected by things and instead I should be a rock-solid force of nature who isn't ever afraid or sad or upset. It would be so convenient if that were true.

It's like I'm exhausted when I'm awake and trying to be productive, and can hardly keep my eyes open, but as soon as my head hits the pillow I'm wide awake again. If I do manage to fall asleep, I promptly have crazy dreams and wake up in a panic. Clearly, I am mentally unbalanced or something. I feel like people think I should be over this, that I'm silly to have quit my job and moved away, that it isn't something that should still be stressing me out. I don't feel that I'm in imminent danger anymore, but I can't seem to get these experiences out of my mind. Even when I go running I start thinking too much. Runs used to be my time to zone out, let my mind wander, clear my thoughts. Lately I've been running and thinking so much that I almost start to panic. Why, oh why, do I have to be such a girl about this?

I've always been the "funny, fat friend" to a lot of people in my life, I think. I'm used to being the one who cracks jokes, who cheers other people up, who doesn't take life too seriously. But for some reason, I can't seem to deal with my stupid emotions right now and I have no idea what to do about it. I met up with a friend last night who also recently left her job (she was laid off, though) and we were discussing how unsettling it is to not know what direction your life is going to take. I told her I was glad that I knew someone else in exactly the same spot, even if I do feel horrible for her situation. At least I have company for my pity party!

The stupidest things are still making me jump, and I feel so ridiculous. Nothing truly bad happened to me--so many people in the world have dealt with way worse situations, and I feel like I should just be over this already. My sister, who was not yet aware of the whole "I can't sleep and am having nightmares because I'm a freak who overreacts" thing, was visiting me in my cozy RV setup and said, "Does it freak you out at night when you can see cars going by and the shadows make it look like someone is walking up to your trailer?" Well it sure as heck does now. I was halfway through "New Moon" last night (damn you, addictive adolescent novels) and froze in terror because it looked like a very large man (or werewolf) was approaching.

They weren't though. And my grumpy dog looked pissed when I woke her up to protect me, and just rolled over and went back to sleep. Some help she is. I feel silly and dramatic. And I'm writing this because I hope a year from now I can read this entry and realize that I have moved on and am a stronger person because of all of this.

I worry though, that I'm not.

I really should do a proper post one day soon, but...

There's no better feeling right now than my head squishing down into the pillow and my body melting into the mattress, all while pulling the warm comforter up near my face and breathing in the fabric softener smell that I love so much. I became an auntie again today to a new squishy little baby boy. This is a pretty nice way to spend a Sunday.

My new career plan...

I was just mentioning to Shawna that I've spent the past couple days doing awesome things like watching all three High School Musical films and reading "Twilight" obsessively... yep, both my maturity level and social life are really thriving with this whole situation. Anyway, for some reason the writing in "Twilight" kind of irritates me cause the author uses very similar sentence structure on all of her sentences. I probably do that too and sound really stupid right now. Anyway, I told Shawna that clearly this is a sign that I should write young adult novels and profit from them.

As a result, we came up with the brilliant plan to write a series of novels featuring tortured, adolescent half-human/half-unicorn creatures. They won't fit in with the other unicorns, see, and they won't fit in with human teenagers either. It's brilliant.

For some reason I feel I should also mention that my foot injury was due to excessive hill training. I mean, I do sometimes pretend this is a fitness/healthiness blog, right? I thought that was interesting, cause I honestly didn't put two and two together when it kept flaring up when I'd run up the big hill in my old town. Gosh, I'm bright.

Look for my novels someday people. I'm going to make millions.

A-W-E... S-O-M-E...

Awesome awesome is what we are. We're the traveling superstars!

My pal and I booked our flights to NYC today, and we are going for a week at the beginning of June! I'm so unbelievably stoked! I can promise you that I'm going to be pretty much the nerdiest tourist ever wearing an I heart NY t-shirt while eating a hot dog. So, look out for that. Also, why must Conan O'Brien be leaving NYC before I go there? WHY?! We could make sweet sweet French and British children if we only met. But alas, it seems as if that's not meant to be.

I guess I'll just have to make out with Jimmy Fallon instead. I think I can deal with that.

Jazzercise!

I spent my morning working out with my mother... to a Jazzercise tape from 1982. I clearly remember many of the songs and moves from my childhood, watching my mother Jazzercise. Wake me up before you go-go, indeed.

Turns out my lack of hand eye coordination is not ideal for such exercise endeavors. I spent quality time doing something that mostly resembled a football shuffle. My mother got a lovely workout in just from laughing at me, I'm pretty sure.

Really, all I needed were some leg warmers.

Oh bother.

I'm tangled up with worry for my jobless friends, the economy, growing older, lack of direction, confusion with men, etc. I don't know what to say. Life is difficult, and I just want everyone I love to be happy and not weighed down with worry like me, but I hate not being able to fix the world for them. I think we should all just become hippies and create a commune where we can escape the rest of the world and create our own happiness instead of being dragged under with the wreckage of what we see on the news day after day.

Sorry for the whining. It may have been spurred on by the two mimosas I drank while watching a friend cut another friend's hair tonight. I was rather impressed by her skills.

She's not wrong...

My younger sister is home from college for the weekend, and when I saw her as I came in the door from a run today I exclaimed, "Lance Armstrong just talked to me! He congratulated me on my longest workout yet. And he startled the shit out of me."

She looked amused, and several minutes later said, "So, have you ever seen the episode of 'How I Met Your Mother' where they join a gym?"

I knew where she was going with it. I look like scary no-makeup-bad-hair-weird-headband Gym Robin. This should give you an idea:

Bad dog.

I'm currently being mean to Beesly which is making me feel rotten. Somehow that little stinker found my new iPod and decided to chew on it and ruin the armband. It still works, but the screen is pushing in and the metal is all scratched up to heck. He is seriously so, so naughty and I just don't know what to do with him. He's always ruining some possession or another, and so I'm going to try out the squirt bottle method to teach him how to behave.

Whenever I find him chewing up something he's not meant to chew on or going potty in the house, I'm going to squirt him with the water and tell him no. I just tested this method out and it seems pretty effective, but I feel terrible and all I want to do is give him kisses and apologize. I'm bad at being the dealer of punishment.

Oh so tempting...

Shawna mentioned that the domain name "leslieisawesome.com" is currently available for purchase. I would totally buy it and make a super awesome website that people could find and use to hire me, but I think potential employers would find it nearly so entertaining.

Do you think if I wrote a top ten list of reasons why people should hire me, it would work?

Also, apparently the cure to my social life is mentioning the horrible date I went on in conversation. Last night a friend's parents decided to try to set me up with someone they know, all because I said, "Oh, so I went on a date with a guy who is on probation for cocaine charges and really like cheese."

Ha.

I am a nerd.

I've spent the last couple of hours watching Lost and working on an online writing portfolio for myself. This activity sprung from Leslie doing the same thing earlier, and I felt that my portfolio needed some updating, too.

I tend to get wrapped up in techy things like website and blog layouts, and I have absolutely no idea how to deal with those things so it takes me a lot of time to figure out. Currently I'm tring to learn how to transfer our blog from Blogger to Wordpress, but I'm at a loss. Maybe I'll just donate some more time searching the internet for cool layouts, because I do love pretty things to look at.

I'm a computer nerd without the requisite skills. That's a rather sad thing to admit.

Setbacks

My foot injury made me slower. The sudden upheaval of my entire life made me cranky and provided a good excuse for wallowing for far too long. The winter got in my way and made it too cold to run regularly for a couple months.

But I'm still a runner. I ran about 4 miles today and remembered why I like running. Apparently that was just what I needed. Throughout the winter I often found myself wishing I had an extra day off to run during the day light hours, or a fun new path to run on, or time to go running at all. Now I have all of those things, times ten! Basically I think the universe wants me to take advantage of that.

Let the half marathon training commence! The only problem is I'm not sure I'll actually be able to run the half marathon on my run-iversary, due to financial/employment/location contraints... but I might as well train for it in case I can!

I'm thinking about the quote

"Fake it till you make it."

Thanks, Bob Harper.

Old habits

Today I ate my feelings. There were many of them, and they all tasted delicious.

I'm sad to report that it didn't have the same effect as it once did... instead I feel kind of dirty. Darn it.

My mother said last week that I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Yes, Mom, I am. And I plan to do so with ice cream by my side.

Tomorrow I plan to stop wallowing, don't worry. Hey, remember when I was down 75 pounds, religiously training for a half marathon, and was super motivated and hardcore? Yeah, so do I. That was fun.

An Alanis Morissette moment.

Have you ever used the internet as the cyber-stalking tool that it's meant to be in order to find out more about some guy you are interested in? And then, after exhausting all of the major social networks, you managed to find a blog with photos of that person and his family? And you also managed to find that his address and phone number are available for the whole world to see? Then did you feel so incredibly creepy that you swore off re-visiting these resources ever again, because it reminds you of that one time in college when you and some friends did a drive-by the house of a crush and he caught you with your face pressed against the car window? And did you ever swear that you'd never be that pathetic and stalkerish again?

Yeah, me neither.

Tummy troubles

After the day I tried to run 10 miles after eating spinach-artichoke tip, tortilla chips and beer for dinner the night before, you would think I had learned my lesson. But that event was followed by an attempt to run after drinking some weird frozen coffee beverage and eating a cupcake. I'm so silly sometimes.

I read awhile back that to be a runner you have to eat like a runner... sometimes I still forget, however. Just yesterday I made some funny comment about having eaten chilli dogs and grocery store sushi with Shawna, and then this morning I set out to run five miles.

I made it about 2.5, with a few walking breaks (which is not normal for me, I'd rather just slow my pace than walk, as I tend to not want to start running again). The reason Mini Leslie is in the sidebar saying I ran less than a mile during my last workout is because I kept pausing her and/or accidentally ending my workout. I was fine when I first set out, but then I started getting horrible stomach cramps and felt like dying. Silly, silly me.

The irony of the situation is that on one part of my little adventure I found myself thinking, "I wish someone I know would drive by and say hi so that I could jump in their car and get a ride home." When I got back home, my father mentioned that he had driven by me, but I didn't see him. My response? "Why the heck didn't you circle back by and let me stop running?" He said I seemed like I was having a lovely time. Nothing could be further from the truth.

He also made me a grilled cheese sandwich. Sometimes there are perks to moving back in with your parents.

Advice from dearest Gala Darling

One of my very favorite blogs is that of Gala Darling.  Gala writes all sorts of articles and lists about how to create a more beautiful and productive life for yourself, and I think she is just wonderful.  Here are a few of the posts I've been perusing for the past hour:

How To Let Someone Know That You Like Them

How To Be Charming

How To Ace a Job Interview

How To Be More Assertive

Being Happy

I hope you'll love her blog, too, and find her advice as helpful as I do.  If you find something especially helpful on her site, please let me know so I can check it out!

I'm such a slacker lately.

In my defense, my entire life was uprooted within a few days. Also, I spent the weekend going to restraining order hearings and not sleeping and such. Shawna and I consumed a large variety of strange items like chilli dogs and grocery store sushi this weekend. Try not to be jealous. It was a gloriously fun weekend, but it just made me that much sadder to be leaving this morning to come back to my parent's house in Eastern Oregon. I hope I find a job back in Central Oregon soon!

Anyhow, after the waiter's random first date question about cheese, Shawna and I found ourselves discussing what our favorite types of cheeses actually are. This is clearly important information in any friendship. Imagine our surprise when we went to the grocery store and found the biggest cheese display EVER...please note Shawna's excitement:



We bought a tiny chunk of applewood smoked cheddar and gave part of it to a friend for Valentine's Day. Cheese... it's the new cool gift. Also, we went to a winter festival. Note the ice sculptures:



Tomorrow I'm going running so Mini Leslie doesn't slack off and play video games. And then I'm going to tell you all about it. What up?

The perfect man: a Valentine's Day edition

Shawna and Leslie's list of criteria for the ideal man:

Mandatory requirements:
1. Must drive a pickup truck...preferably a dirty, old, manly one. Not like a dirty old man, but you know, a dirty pickup truck with tools in the back, shredded up tires from mudding, and an aura of manliness.

2. Handy: we don't want no stinkin' sissy man who can't fix stuff. That doesn't help us at all. Also, he must be able to open jars and reach things from tall shelves.

3. Chivalrous: apparently we are both very old-fashioned and enjoy having doors opened. He should be protective but not in the creepy, lock a girl in a tower sort of way--more in the protect-a-girl-from-a-creepy-cheese-loving-waiter type of way.

4. No girly hands allowed.

5. Sense of humor required, and ability to understand sarcasm is a must. Clearly, he should be able to hold a conversation so that we don't get bored.

6. Smells like a meadow of manliness on a rainy day full of showers of masculinity. That sounds disgusting, but you'd be surprised at the appeal.

7. He must carry a pocketknife because those are always useful--for cutting bitches (oh, but he shouldn't be violent) and for whittling things and opening hot dog packages. That's really important...we hate when you can't open hot dogs.

8. Outdoorsy: he doesn't necessarily have to skin a deer with his bare hands, but should be able to tear down a tree with his powerful thighs in a single bound.

9. Deep voice: much like that of Josh Turner, sex god.

10. Good with children, but not in a pedophile way... more like in a fatherly sort of way.

Suggestions:
1. Willing to learn to make delicious cupcakes, and able to dance so that he may teach us...yet still secure in his sexuality.

2. Should not be on probation for cocaine charges, still living with his parents at the age of 30, or use the words "styling" and "jangled" on a regular basis... we're looking at you, creepy waiter of yesterday.

3. Good speller.

4. Political tendencies should not veer to the extreme in either direction. He should not be racist or make inappropriate jokes toward others because that is obviously unfriendly and lame.

Bonus qualities:
1. Rock star tendencies.

2. Loves green olives and mustard.

3. Can produce Shawna's ideal children: a French daughter and a British son. This, of course, does not apply to Leslie's ideal man because that would be odd and a little creepy if he were producing children with Shawna.

4. Both of our ideal men can be friends and/or related so that we can hang out together a lot.

5. Can chug a beer without stopping. It's just impressive. Oh, and faster than Shawna... that is a feat in itself.

6. Shawna likes boys with glasses...but not Dwight Schrute-esque.

7. Dog person. A single man with a cat is just a little too weird for us. Also, men with tiny, girly dogs need not apply.

8. Shawna's man must build her a treehouse and then propose to her in it...and getting on one knee is a requirement.

Through our list making adventure we have discovered that we are both rather rural and old-fashioned. Ironically, Leslie's feminist and exceptionally liberal ways are sort of contradicted by her list of criteria. Oops! Now if only we could find a couple men to fulfill this requirements, we could do fun things like play Edward 40 Hands and take ballroom dancing classes.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Top 6 Favorite Cheeses.

1. Parmesan

2. Pepperjack

3. Provolone

4. Gouda

5. Cheddar

6. Easy Cheez

Chuck would be very impressed if she took a gander at my cheese box.

Luckily I have Shawna as my Valentine...

So, remember how I gave my number to a waiter in a random act of boldness? And how he called me and seemed normal and we made plans to meet up at this winter festival shindig and such?

Worst. decision. ever.

The evening progressed as I found out information like the fact that he is 30, lives with his parents, is on probation for cocaine charges, has done a lot of drugs, was arrested four times so far (once for drunken bicycling), and apparently is "a frickin' ninja." He kept asking me about my "styling" and told me every two seconds that my eyes were "just crazy dude." I can sure pick them, now can't I?

I ended up kind of ignoring him (I didn't know what to do, and apparently I fail at blowing off guys) and chatting with other people in hopes that he would see I wasn't interested and just go away. But he didn't. Oh, how he didn't. In fact, he followed me around like a puppy and told all my girl friends how much he liked me all evening (and began talking to one of them about love... having hung out with me for AN HOUR). Luckily, the friend told him to play hard to get. I wish he had listened. He finally decided to take off, and I thought I was safe for the evening. And then he came back. It was an unpleasant experience, and I'm probably going to declare another four-year moratorium on dating because I fail at it so badly.

I'm staying with Shawna for another night so that we can go be single and lonely together for Valentine's Day. This time I do not plan to bring along random men who are quite possibly high. I should just make that a rule for everyday life, actually.

(Insert evil laugh here.)

So, apparently I laugh in a really creepy manner as I sleep. Go figure. I dreamt about Leslie having a scary small child and about my dog and I swimming in a pool full of ipods and snakes. These dreams were very disturbing. Also, a married guy tried to murder me in a raft-like contraption. Why don't I dream of happy things like bunnies and puppies and unicorns?

Well, anyway, as Leslie said, we will be attending a Winter celebration event filled with food and music tonight so I'm pretty excited about that. And beforehand we are going to BLEED! Muhahahha.... For the Red Cross, of course!

Friday

Today I will be facing a certain d-bag in court...the same man who prompted me to quit my job and move halfway across the state. Oh joy. I couldn't sleep all night and my stomach hurts at the thought of this. Luckily I'm staying with Shawna and was entertained in my sleeplessness by her creepy laughing in her sleep.

Gosh. It's probably inappropriate to punch him in the face, huh?

Lucky for me, that event will be followed up by things like hanging out with Shawna and a festival in celebration of winter. I hate winter. But I like Shawna and all the other fun people I'll be seeing, so I'm okay with this.

Longer post and probably photos to follow tomorrow...

No Muggles allowed!

I have decided that it would be extremely awesome to have a Harry Potter themed 25th birthday party next month! I found a bounty of $1 HP party goodies at a store today, and I felt an unexplainable desire to snatch it all up. But I didn't. And I'm kind of sad.

Blah.

I haven't run all week. I swear I'm busier as an unemployed person than I was as an employed person.

I have about a month and a half till my run-iversary, which I would really like to celebrate, but I have no idea if I'm going to be able to run the race I signed up for due to financial/employment constraints. Plus, unless I get my booty in gear, who knows if I'll be prepared to run a half marathon!

Next week I'm going to run like its my job. I swear. Things should be settled down by next week, so let's hope the weather agrees with me and it stops snowing. That would be nice. I have such fond memories of the days when I was gainfully employed and secure enough in my future that I signed up for races super far in advance...

Soon Mini Leslie is going to be in the sidebar playing video games again. I hate feeling like a slacker. On a plus note, I got some orthotics for my shoes, so if I ever find time to run again it should help me feet out.

I'm off to spend all day in the car!

I'm too tired and too lazy to think.

Here are kittens! Inspired by kittens!



I want pie! I want beef jerky!

Canine therapy

It's really difficult to be sad when surrounded by my crazy beagle and my parents' two cuddly basset hounds. For instance, last night I slept in the house (rather than my super awesome trailer) cause the heat isn't working quite right yet and it's snowy and cold out there. I had a dog on either side of me, and this morning I opened my eyes to this:



In a little while I'm road tripping it with the three dogs to the next town over to buy some sort of electrical cord. Sounds like an adventure, right?

Highlights from a moving adventure

I swear moving is the best workout ever--I'm still sore! I'm also still a little downtrodden, but not nearly so much as I was. In fact, the crowd of people I surrounded myself with over the course of my moving adventure helped to make the experience pretty amusing. I did lots of laughing and not nearly as much crying as I expected.

First of all, here is what I look like after several days without sleeping and lots of carrying heavy items:



Sexy, I know. Also, I hate that couch. Which led to the following:

Dad: Where are we going to store this?
Me: Upstairs in your house. I hate this stupid thing. It cost $10. Let's get rid of it.
Dad: We can't do that, then you'd have to find a new couch!
Me: I don't care. I'll sit on the floor! I don't even have a house for it; I'm living in your trailer.
Dad: It's not a trailer, it's a motor home.
Me: I don't care, let's just get rid of this stupid thing so I never have to move it again.

My father and a couple of his work buddies drove over to help me move my stuff, and that led to me buying their help with a case of beer. Later that also led to me taking them to dinner at a Mexican restaurant, and designated driving their drunk asses home. We stopped at a gas station and it led to me saying things to the attendant such as, "I'm so sorry. I'm the designated driver and I forgot to put the child locks on!" He thought it was funny.

Also, I did in fact give my phone number to the cute waiter by writing it on the receipt, and he did in fact call me the next day. Why, oh why, does a cute boy have to call me on the very day when I'm completely sleep deprived, insane, and helping load a U-Haul with all of my stuff? I probably sounded like a lunatic. I told him I'd call him later in the week, so today I decided to suck it up and call back... we chatted for awhile and made plans to hang out on Friday night. WOO! This is only unfortunate due to the fact that I no longer live in the town where we will be hanging out (I am going back this weekend for a restraining order hearing/job hunt/to hang with Shawna), but whatever--the cute waiter totally called me!

I feel very bold and scandalous. I should probably start writing my number on all my receipts.

Stupid boobies.

Is there anything worse than to put on your shirt in the morning only to realize that the underwire has busted out of your bra and is impaling you in the side? And that this is the second bra in two weeks that this has happened to? All I demand from a bra is that it shut-up and support me, but these two seem to have rebelled, and I am forced into a dire situation to purchase a couple more.

And I'm once again reminded how unfair it is that women spend oh-so-much money on bras and tampons while men don't. I think that it would be nice for all women to have a designated "Girly Check" mailed to them from some magical faraway land to pay for such things. How much more expensive do you suppose it is to be a woman than a man (based on necessities)? Because it surely is.

Joss Whedon is my hero.

I've spent the past two days rescuing myself from my perpetual disease of procrastination. I think I mentioned before that I signed up for a Joss Whedon craft swap on craftster.org, and on Sunday I realized that I hadn't even started the larger projects and everything needed to be sent out by Tuesday! Blast. So, I've been in a crazy panic, and after a day of fun-filled babysitting, I've finally finished everything and my package will be out on time!

Here are my crafty endeavors accomplished with the help my sewing machine operating mother.

Firefly items:

River Tam wall hanging.


Jayne Cobb felt heart brooch. It says Jane + Vera = Love if you can't see that. Vera is Jayne's favorite gun.


Wash's dinosaur scene tote bag.


Buffy items:

Crocheted stake. It looks like poo.


Nerdy Willow doll. Anyone remember her horrific fuzzy pink sweater with flowers and a smiley face on it? She even has her own little MacBook!


My swap partner was much more responsible than I was, and I received my package a week ago! Here are my goodies. Dr. Horrible themed everything! A doll (my favorite), a shiny new Australia key chain, Penny inspired scarf, and lyric cross stitch. Awesome!

Careers I am considering now that I am unemployed and homeless

1. Bounty hunter. I really think this would be a very logical decision.

2. Plumber. Everyone needs a plumber at some point, providing me with job security!

3. Elephant trainer. I mean, why not?

4. Game show host. The dudes who host "Jeopardy" and "Wheel of Fortune" are getting pretty old, am I right?

5. Nomadic, unemployed writer... oh wait, that's what I'm already doing!

Tomorrow I'm going to do awesome things like discover new favorite running paths to replace the ones I left behind. Today I unpacked my belongings and tried to get settled... I must say, I think I have been handling this situation remarkably well, and even have a sense of humor about it most of the time--until this morning when my dog decided to make a break for it. That left me crying and saying, "Even the dog doesn't want to be around me! She's going to go find a new family that doesn't live in a trailer!"

This situation is probably not remedied by the fact that a few minutes ago I accidentally dropped her on her face on a hardwood floor. That almost made me cry again. She seems to have forgiven me because I bribed her with a dog treat. I'm all about buying love when I can.

So... tired...

I may fall over asleep at this very moment.

...

Okay, I didn't. Anyway, moving is hard, but I am done and that makes me happy. I am officially living trailer fabulous--unemployed and all! I just have to unpack. Ugh.

At one point this evening I found myself attempting to carry an arm chair up a set of stairs (all by my lonesome) with my mother laughing at me. That made me laugh, which made me lose all of my strength and yell, "Tell me something serious! Talk about dead babies!" I nearly fell backwards and landed with a chair on me, but I made it.

I'm so tired that I may not remember this post later. Ha. Pictures of U-Haul goodness to follow... and oh yeah, an explanation about this giving my phone number to a waiter thing.

Sorry for the short post, but holy sleepytime, I am exhausted.

How I love glorious sales.

I spent many an hour today cleaning and dancing around to Ashlee Simpson music, and then browsing the internet looking at some of my favorite sites to see what kinds of things were on sale.

Target pretty much always has crazy wonderful sales, and here are a few gems I found.

Taffeta Dress: $12.49 (was $49.99)









Corduroy Jacket: $9.99 (was $39.99)

I've wanted this one for awhile! Great deal.





Gap is awesome, too.

Pleated Dress: $22.99 (was $98)










Pleated Skirt: $14.99 (was $58)










Striped Cardigan: $10.97 (was $58)

I've also wanted this for awhile, but Gap doesn't have my size available! I'll have to check in-store on Tuesday.





Crocheted Scarf: $9.99 (was $39.50)

I just really want to make this for myself! I love the red and white together.






Forever 21 also has some un-crappy things sometimes.


Satin Boyshort: $4.80

Aren't these super cute?






As you can see this has been a rather productive day for me and I'm rather tuckered out. I think I'll go make a cup of tea and relax before I pass out from exhaustion.

Beer, salad, and mango martinis.

Last night Leslie spent her farewell dinner with me and a few other friends. Leslie and I split a pitcher of raspberry beer and a chicken salad to top off the delicious martinis we downed earlier before watching "He's Just Not That Into You." It was a rather glorious (though bittersweet) way to spend an evening.

At the end of our dinner Leslie was coaxed into writing her number at the top of her bill with a sly "Call me!" meant for the dreamy waiter we had all evening. And today he called her! It's very exciting for us to discover that this method of capturing boys actually works so I'm sure we will be adopting it in the future as well. Apparently we are hanging out with said waiter next weekend when Leslie comes back into town. Maybe I'll try the bill method when we go out that night. Why the heck not?

Last night we also came up with the brilliant idea of selling cupcakes filled with liquor. Situation: It's closing time, and you are kicked out of your favorite bar hungering for a tasty snack and a bit more booze. Where do you go? Drunkcakes! Or some other fabulously named bakery. Awesome, huh? Actually, after searching google I have discovered that boozy cupcakes are actually already a thing that people make, but I'm still totally going to jump on the bandwagon. I want to make some Irish car bomb cupcakes. Oh my gosh. St. Paddy's Day is coming up soon.

Moving Day!

Nearly three years ago I graduated college and moved to the middle of nowhere. I accepted a job on an Indian Reservation because it sounded like an adventure. Several of my best friends and I had just ended our friendship due to stupid feuding and I felt like it was the end of the world. I felt lost, unsure of what to do with the rest of my life, and hopeful that I would figure out what to do with myself. I also couldn't run for even a minute without stopping, weighed 220 pounds, and was unhappier than I realized.

I took this photo on the day that I moved into my house, and I was so excited to finally be living in a house rather than a college apartment. Sure, the house was ghetto fabulous, but it was my own space with a yard and a lovely mountain view.



Now, years later, I'm healthier and happier than I've been in a long time. I don't have a job, and I don't have a place to live (other than a trailer in my parent's driveway, hells yeah) but I'm hopeful that I'll figure out what to do with myself. I've learned to appreciate the friends I do have, and am happy for the time I spent here even though it ended under such unfortunate circumstances. Really, not much has changed, but depending on how you look at it, nearly everything has. Here's to future endeavors, and joy at being alive! I'm sad to be leaving, but it is what it is.

Wait wait... Don't tell me!

A couple of weeks ago I was listening to the radio on the way to work, and I believe "Wait wait... Don't tell me!" was on the air. The guests were talking about the inauguration and how cold it was in DC, but President Obama managed to appear as if it didn't bother him. Then someone said the reason for this is that the President is heated by the furnace of righteousness. Isn't that the most awesome thing you've ever heard? I'm totally getting t-shirts made.

President Obama: Heated by the furnace of righteousness since 2009.

The final countdown...

I went for my final run in this town today. Tomorrow I'll be loading a U-Haul and moving back to my hometown to live in an RV in my parent's driveway and explore the world of unemployment. Sidenote: the guy who caused me to make this decision (when he tried to break my office door down to kill me) got arrested again and is currently in jail, so I feel much safer. By the time he gets out I'll be far away. This makes me happy.

What makes me sad is the thought of never running in this town again. I started running here a year ago and since then I've found my favorite paths, discovered where the mean dogs live, and know the mileage of certain routes by heart. It makes me sad to think of starting all over. I decided to go on a run this morning that combined all my favorite routes--a little of one road, a hill on another road. I wanted it to be a combination of all my favorite runs. I wanted it to be like my best memories of running: picking up speed on a lazy summer night, children and dogs scampering through the streets, elderly men sitting on a porch and drinking beer while they waved and cheered me on, finding a stray sprinkler to run through and enjoy the mist of cool water, reaching the crest of a hill and shooting down the other side just as the sun set and the sky turned twelve different shades of pink and amber. I wanted it to be one of the good memories, so I could leave on a happy note rather than a bittersweet one.

It wasn't. It kind of sucked, actually. It's cold out today, and raining in the sort of way that isn't really rain. Rather than actual drops the air is just turned to mist and rain sort of drizzles in a miserable, gray manner. No one was outside to wave and cheer me on because they're all smart enough to be inside. The biggest hill in town, the one that I used to shoot up like nobody's business, kind of kicked my ass because I've let my running slide in recent weeks due to injuries and near death experiences that left me afraid to be alone. I had to stop to re-lace a shoe and walk up the very top of the hill because my stupid foot started hurting, and I'd rather not re-injure it as badly as I did the first time. I felt really slow and sluggish, and had side stitches several times because I drank way too much water before I left to go on a run. But when I got back after 5.75 miles, I felt good. I'm happy that I can still run that far, happy that I am finally starting to realize that I can't let this one man make me afraid to live my life, happy at the thought of impending adventures.

So I might not remember my final run in this tiny town as my best run ever, but it is one more run that I've completed. That's good enough for me.

Organ-asmic!

I watched Private Practice tonight and was once again mesmerized by the dreaminess of Chris Lowell, so much so that I have been searching for clips of him on YouTube for the past 45 minutes. Yeah, I'm a nerd. I was reminded of his Veronica Mars days, and I thought all of you might enjoy this little jewel of awesomeness.



Kristen Bell: Who is in better shape: you or me?
Chris Lowell: It depends on how you describe “shape.” I am in the shape of perhaps a bodybuilder, whereas you are in the shape of perhaps a pear. That being said, you are in better shape, Kristen Bell.

Silver linings

Rather than being productive and actually finishing up my packing and cleaning, I just took a few moments to wonder how many calories I'm really burning with all of this activity.

Before unemployment (I haven't even been unemployed for a week, I realize, but it sounds dramatic to say it that way) I sat at a desk every day for eight hours. Granted there were moments where I was moving around or walking somewhere, but basically my job involved a lot of office work. For the past few days I've been doing a lot of box lifting, cleaning, and other activity.

So I decided to google "calories burned while moving." According to calorielab.com, on Saturday when I'm carrying boxes and furniture I'll burn roughly 340 calories per hour! Not bad. I'm all about the silver linings in this situation.

As such, I've compiled a list of other good things to come out of this:

1. I know exactly what I should do when someone is trying to kill me. Also, I can start conversations with, "This one time a guy tried to kill me, so I quit my job and became unemployed and homeless..." Not many people can do that, I'm guessing.

2. I'm crazy organized because I chose to throw out all kinds of junk rather than move it. I've been meaning to become more organized for a long time, so this is definitely a bonus.

3. A friend gave me two plastic pink flamingos for my birthday a couple years ago, and they will look soooo much better stationed outside a trailer than they do outside my little cottage.

4. I'll have plenty of spare time to play with my new Nike+ after I'm all moved. Also, the town I'm moving to has an awesome running trail right by the river that I'll be able to enjoy.

5. While I'll be farther away from some friends (I'm going to miss Shawna so much!) I'll be closer to others that I haven't seen in awhile.

6. My rent and utilities will be so much cheaper while living in my parent's RV in their driveway. My ego might take a beating, but my bank account will be happy... as happy as it can be without any income.

7. I might find a new job that I love even more than the one I just quit!

8. My parents have two adorable basset hounds, providing playmates for Suzy and quality puppy cuddling time for me.

9. I've always wondered what it would be like to live in an RV for an extended period of time. Plus, now when I say I'm trailer trash I won't just be referring to the past!

10. I've learned how many people I have that love and support me. The phone keeps ringing because people are worried about me, and it makes me happy to know that people care about me. I even have people coming to help me move on Saturday that I haven't seen in years! A few years ago while on summer break from college I worked in a mill with my father, and a couple of his co-workers offered to come help us move my stuff without even being asked. That rocks.

So I'm almost done feeling sorry for myself, and I'm starting to realize that this might not all be bad. And no matter what, I'm still alive! And that is the greatest silver lining of all.

Yay! Mini Shawna isn't lame anymore!

No longer is Mini Shawna addicted to video games and paddle ball! She has embraced leaping over hurdles, getting jiggy with it, and punching her invisible nemeses, all do to my completion of a 5k walk this afternoon! I mapped out a route that would take me the distance and past a lovely, squishy meadow and ventured off with my iPod in hand.

The ground was wet and puddle-muddled, but I felt such a sense of accomplishment as the kilometers were counted down in my ears. I even gave little bursty sprints at several points, but you can't really see that in the graph. It just seems like I got really slow at points! Maybe that was the case, and it just felt like I was going fast when I got back to normal.



So, there's my excitement of the day. I'm so proud of my 5k! At one point I gave an 11'17" mile which makes me feel awesome, but that time may be just because I haven't calibrated my Nike+ yet.

In other news, I had an interview for a higher position at my work today. It would be good if I got it, but I'm pretty sure I would have to work nights and weekends if I got the position. And that stinks, because I'm pretty spoiled by my lazy layabout lifestyle. Woo, check out that sweet alliteration! Anyway, I like weekends and nights for me, but I guess I'm selfish like that. I'll find out if I get the job in a couple of days.

Awesome solution

I totally know how I am going to find a new job... I just need to create something as hilariously great as Barney's Video Resume.

I mean, who wouldn't hire me then?

I'm off to burn tumbleweeds (stupid yard work) and finish packing. I swear I am going running this afternoon even if my to-do list is still freakishly long. Pretty much, I need something to keep me sane.

Good timing...

"Nobody should have to go to work thinking, 'Oh this is the place that I might die today.' That's what a hospital is for. An office is for not dying." --Michael Scott, The Office, "Stress Relief"

I didn't watch the episode of "The Office" that aired after the Superbowl because I got distracted, so today when I took a break from packing I decided to check it out. In the first few moments, Michael Scott gave me a necessary moment of clarity. Unexpected, but pretty cool.

I had been packing up my belongings and wondering if I'm making the right decision. Should I run away from the problem, should I worry so much about protecting myself, should I throw away everything I've worked for because I'm scared? I know the answer to all of those things is yes--I may be homeless and unemployed, but at least I'm alive. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, but at least I wouldn't be living in fear of that happening.

Michael Scott is correct. I shouldn't work in a place where I go into work thinking I might die there. As a result, I'm quite happy with my decision to quit and move away from this dangerous situation.

Since this is supposedly a health/fitness/awesomeness blog, I should tell you all that rather than a conventional workout I have spent my day lifting heavy boxes and packing like a madwoman. Hey, at least I'm burning calories! Also, I've eaten far too many fast food salads lately. But that's better than fast food burgers, I'm sure.

Back to my boxes and tape...

Whine whine whine.

Begin whining.

I feel icky and overwhelmed by life today. I just feel like a wreck, and I'm worried about turning 25 at the end of next month. When is it that I will finally be complete and able to be happy with who I am, where I am at, what I have? There's always this unease within me, and I'm not sure how to shake that and find peace. I'm afraid of change. I'm afraid of not changing. I have this perpetual need to compare myself to others my age, and I notice that I'm not yet to the places where many of them are. That scares me. I just want to be able to proud of myself, who I am, and what I stand for. But sometimes this just feels like an impossible game of catch-up, and my legs won't move fast enough.

End whining.

Armed (and fabulous)

Disclaimer: If you are very anti-gun you may want to stop reading right here, as my very rural/white trash/country side comes out in full force in this post. End disclaimer.

It's not a secret that I'm scared out of my mind to be alone in my house till I move at the end of the week. I mean, I quit my job because of this situation, so clearly I'm pretty freaked out. I'm also ashamed, and feel like people will view me as weak because I am leaving the situation behind and choosing to remove myself from danger rather than fight back. In the past I always thought of myself as feisty, strong, and willing to take on anything. That was stupid, because when faced with a situation where I thought my life was going to end I found that I am just as human as the next person. I should probably be done feeling sorry for myself, but it is taking me awhile to deal with the fact that I'm giving up the entire life I've built for myself because of the actions of another individual.

It might not be the right decision for some, but I chose to arm myself and borrow my father's gun while I'm alone in my house for the week. If this person comes to find me, I would like to be prepared. I grew up in a rural area, so I'm used to guns and I learned to shoot when I was about 12. I know the statistics say that people are more likely to be killed with their own guns, etc, etc, etc, but I just know that it makes me sleep better at night to have a gun on my nightstand. I know how to handle one and feel I can adequately save my own life with one if that happens to be necessary. This is a temporary fix, and I highly doubt I'll have to shoot anyone, but I also never thought I would be quitting my job and moving into a trailer in my parent's driveway. Life happens. I'd like to be prepared for it.

Strangely enough, arming myself has provided a few moments of humor in what shall otherwise be remembered as a dark period in my life. For instance, via text messages my sister and I had the following conversation:

Me: I'm driving to Mom and Dad's to borrow Dad's gun for the week.
Sister: Why?
Me: To bust a cap on any potential intruders, obviously.
Sister. Cool.

My father made me demonstrate my gun loading/unloading/handling skills about 50 times last night, and we had the following conversation:

Dad: Now, if he comes into your house, where are you going to shoot him?
Me: (solemnly) In the balls.
Dad: No. Where are you going to shoot him?
Me: In the face. Wait, why can't I shoot him in the balls? That would stop a guy in his tracks.
Dad: (exasperated) Come on, where are you going to shoot him?
Me: (distracted by my adorable, senile dog walking up to me) Hi honey! Do you want to help me shoot people in the balls?
Dad: Aim for the part of the body with the largest surface area! You'll have a better chance of actually hitting him!
Me: Oh come on now, I have good aim; you saw the gingerbread house.

So now I'm armed (and fabulous), and cleaned out my desk at work today and only have to return tomorrow to pick up a check. I'm unemployed and homeless, but I'd like to see somebody try to break in and murder me now. Their balls would definitely be in jeopardy. I feel like I might offend people with this little anecdote, but hey, I am who I am. Part of who I am is very white trash and rural, and good with a handgun.

Today after dealing with the court/police/work situations all day, I went for a short run! It may seem like I dramatically slowed down, and that is in fact only because I finally calibrated my Nike+. Oh how I miss the days when it told me I could run a 9:19 mile... I did take it slow today because I was contemplating what the f I am going to do, and as such was just going on a short-ish run in order to relax and de-stress. It turned out to be a 5k! Woo!

A+ for Nike

So, I finally have my iPod and Nike+, and I tested them out today by going for a stroll with my dad and Beesly! Dad didn't want to walk very far because his knees are bothering him these days, so Beesly and I were zigzagging across the road to make the most of the walk and tack on some extra distance. We looked pretty cool. I also already dropped my iPod when I had to grab Beesly to keep a large dog from eating him. Nice.

This little gadget is totally awesome and motivational, and I already want to get back out there and put in a longer walk! But, alas, I shall not because I have other responsibilities and plans to tend to. This thing rocks!

Beesly, the wondrous athletic dog

My dog is freaking amazing. He can run faster, jump higher, and leap farther than your pet for sure. I want him to join some sort of puppy olympics, because he would seriously excel and provide me with a bounty of fame and fortune. Beesly is so amazing that his playpen (aka his prison) can no longer hold him, and several times today he proved that he can escape easily. BEHOLD!



What will this little stinker do next?

Also, I watched the Super Bowl and The Office today, ate nachos and drank beer, devoured 4 snickerdoodles, and beat a young child at checkers. Overall, it was a good day.

I hate moving!

I wrote out my "to do" list last night for the upcoming week, and it kind of made me want to crawl in bed and just stay there until someone does all of this for me. Yes, I'm whining. I hate moving with undying passion. I hate that I have to worry about things like signing termination papers at work, getting restraining order papers, and figuring out what the heck I'm going to do with my life. What are the odds that I can just bribe someone to do all of this for me?

Everyone else in the world is watching football and eating junk food today, but I will be spending my day cleaning out closets and dropping off some recycling. I hope to go calibrate my Nike+ and go for a run because at this point I clearly need something to help me maintain my sanity. I wish I could quit being such a girl and just be over this whole thing already.

Why can't boxes just magically appear and pack themselves?