I am Cheap and Economic

Ha ha ha ha ha.

At some point in my life, I figured out how wrap boxes and decorate with ribbon. I became the wrapper of all packages not belonging to me in the house and I grew to hate wrapping items. Mostly because it was CONTINUES and everyone (save my mother) forgot how to wrap anything. My poor father (bless him) finds presents constantly. He buys year round and "hides" them. Only he hides them from himself. I'd have my big wrapping party, make a huge mess, clean it up and four hours later he'd appear with a pile of books.

I won't have that this year, as they are far, far, far away and I have no wrapping paper!


I HAVE NO WRAPPING PAPER?! HOW CAN THAT BE?

Well, I have wrapping paper, I just have no clue where it is. Plus, I have to ship everything. So, I was staring at the paper all the things came to me shipped in and had a brilliant idea, if I say so myself.

MAKE YOUR OWN WRAPPING PAPER!

(It also works as padding for those glass items!)


 It is so simple, its kind of funny, but here is how to make your own wrapping paper:

Find a pile of paper. I'm using the packing paper that came with the presents.

Collect some stamps. I had these from last year. The stamp pads also are left over from last year.  I am making Christmas wrapping paper if you can't tell, but if you have any other sort of stamps, you can make wrapping paper year round!

Flatten the crinkled paper out flat. Try to get it as flat as you can, but it is not that big of a deal, as you're going to wrapping it up around items. Just make sure you can stamp it. And make it look goodish.

And then stamp it in a random pattern. Or not, its up to you. I like random. I do everything randomly.

And BAM! You have a piece of wrapping paper! It is festive, it is cheap (in my case free!) and everyone will think you spent all day on it (except if you're my family, or read this, as to stamp and wait for it to dry takes like maybe 20 minutes.)

After the ink is good and dry, wrap up your presents for shipping (or giving). I am shipping mine, so they are wrapped for shipping rather than being pretty. I might add some stickers or something. Just to make them festive-i-er. I made that word up.

I am not Martha Stewart

A friend of mine for a house warming gift got me a subscription to "Martha Stewart Living." I was kind of like, "Oh, cool." She also got me a subscription to a Vegetarian magazine, as I hate raw meat. But the Martha Stewart was what got me.

I have never been a Martha fan. Mostly because everything strikes me as overly complicated and time consuming and while I might sit around and wait for Gadot to show up, I do not have the patience to play with glitter.

I hate glitter.

With a flaming passion.

I really hate flitter and gorilla glue, but we'll get to that later.

So for the past six months or so I've been getting "Martha Stewart Living." It first began showing up when there was no one around to play with raw meat for me, so I just mostly stared at it and was hungry. Also, a lot of the recipes in it have things I don't know what they are.  Or they have a small amount of something I have to buy a lot more than the recipe calls for, like cream or whipping cream. Or heavy cream. Or lamb. We can't figure out where one gets lamb in Alaska. Or a kumquat. What is a kumquat anyways?

Anyways, a couple of days ago, the December issue showed up. There was a separate holiday cookie issue you had to buy separately. I stared at the cover. I drooled over the things in the issue I had, as that is all I do with "Martha Stewart Living," I simply drool over it. I drool over the food pictures and the decor pictures. I despratly want to paint my front door dark plum, but I don't think anyone would go for that really. Anyways, I sat in bed and drooled, wishing someone would come home and handle raw meat for me so I could have steak.

The Cookie Grail

Then, a few days ago I was standing in a store buying some primer for my face. (Alaska lacks a Sephora and I lack the foresight to order it before I run out.) This little old lady was having a wonderfully detailed conversation about cold with the cashier, so I was looking at the magainzes. I usually just read all the headlines and move on with life, but then I saw it. The "Holiday Cookies." Chocolate, ginger, peppermint, sugar, cream, frosting, ice cream....I was on over load just thinking what was IN IT.

Of course I walked over and picked it up. The moment I saw biscotti in it, I was going to buy it. By the time I had begun to drool in the store, the nice old lady motored away and I walked up silently and set down the face primer and the magazine. After telling me how silent I was, the lady checked me out and I left spending about what I would have spent had I bought the primer at Sephora rather than the special store I visited. The face primer might have been discounted, but the cookie grail was still seven bucks. But I was so EXCITED.

Text picture sent to Pilot Boy

From the Cookie Grail

 I came home and began to really drool over the pictures. I began to send text messages to my husband with pictures of cookies. I was so EXCITED. I was going to become a cookie making machine! I'd make all these complicated COOKIES! Then he got mad at me, as he had no junk food and I was making him hungry and kind of cranky with all the pictures of cookies I was sending his way.

So, two days later, I was like, I'm going to make these Mexican Hot Chocolate cookies. I've got almost everything to make them right?

No. I did not. I lacked cream of tartar. So I was like, welp, I guess I won't make those. We'll do these espresso ones. They look like the Mexican Hot Chocolate ones.
 

How Cookies Should Look

So, I looked at the ingredient list and I was like, "Well, I don't have bittersweet chocolate, but I have unsweetened and I have espresso powder. I'll just put those chocolate chunks in! It'll be fine!"

And I went to work. I actually followed the instructions pretty much. I mean, I didn't use the right sort of baking chocolate and I melted it in the microwave, but I did use three freaking bowls and mix things separately, which I never do because I hate doing dishes. I even whipped the dry ingredients with a whisk like it said. (Not sure why you had to whisk them together, but whatever.) I DID EVERYTHING IT SAID. I followed the directions to a T when putting the ingredients together.

Least to say, for some unknown reason, while Martha's cookies look like round, flat cookies...while mine turned out looking like round mounds. 

How my Cookies Look

Similar things happened the year I decided to make gingerbread men with a Paula Dean recipe. I went out and bought everything (as I didn't have anything except ginger) and for some unknown reason, they were the WORST GINGERBREAD cookies known to man. They were super stiff, almost all of them burned and I had the worst time rolling the dough out to cut the little burnt buggers. This is why I usually do not try things out of magazines. This is why I also just make things up as I go along. When I make things up as I go along, things turn out better. Like the crazy dark brownies I made over the summer.

The mound cookies do taste okay. A little bitter, but at least I'm not consuming a ton of sugar, right?

Morning Bird No More

I used to get up early. I was one of those crazy college students that went to bed at a reasonable hour and got up usually before 8 am. (For awhile to go to the gym, but then just because I couldn't sleep.) My senior year of college, I'd get up at 6.30 and watch the sun rise. (Well, kinda, my window faced west...) I was always more of a morning person. I never really "slept in" as a teenager. I usually did not stay up past midnight and getting up was never that hard for me. I never used an alarm. And I grew to hate people who did. (Especially those that set it and then hit snooze a million times before getting up. It annoys me. Pilot Boy does it and I HATE IT. I just get up usually after the first buzz, even if I do not have to. Or at I used to. We'll get to that.)

I worked for a year and had to get up early to get ready and drive through traffic. I then got married and had another job where I had to get up early and go to the train. Then, I went to the dirt hole. I still tried to get up by 8 am so I could get to the gym by ten. I felt like if I didn't get my errans ran before noon, it was waste of time to do anything. I moved back to Chicago for four months and started sleeping till nine. I wouldn't get going till 11 or later, but I didn't care. Chicagoland was always in traffic, so it wasn't like in Del Rio where everyone decided to get in their cars at three pm and drive around for no reason.

Then I got to Alaska. I got up with Pilot Boy for awhile, but then he went away and I started sleeping in. I mean, really sleeping in. Till ten sometimes. Then I'd take two hours for breakfast, then shower and by the time I was ready for prime time, it was one pm. In the summer, this did not seem so bad, as it was light till midnight. But since the new "winter" light season has began, I am finding issues with it.

One, the sun doesn't rise till nine. This makes getting up early very hard, as there is no light (or reason to get up). I tell myself I will get up at a reasonable hour, but it hardly happens. Mostly because I don't look at my clock and just assume by the amount of light its two am.

The other day, I got up at seven am. I was so proud of myself. I then managed to eat and drink my tea before nine thrity and was in the shower and ready to go at what I thought was early. By the time I got into the car to go to Target, it was 11.30. I was like WTF? Where did my morning go?

I have no clue. I never seem to able to get going in the mornings anymore, even when I think I am "going." I am not sure what it is. Is it the fact my hair is long? Is it the fact that what I think is "quick" makeup isn't really? I haven't timed myself getting ready in a very long time. I usually a lot an hour to do things when I do not have to take a shower. I do not have a clock I can see in the bathroom, so I'm not sure how long it takes me to shower. I do not know how long it takes to blow dry my hair and do my makeup. I ought to time in case I ever get a job....

I am still a morning person at heart, though. I like to get everything done in the morning and have the rest of the day to myself. I still think my "day" is over at three pm and I don't want to do anything after three pm. I start thinking about dinner, evening TV and bedtime at three pm. Even if I have only been up since 10. This, my people, is a problem.

This week I decided I was going to get up at seven and try to go to the gym. I never went to the gym and I think I only got up at seven twice this week. Both by complete accident. Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish Basil would get me up. But she knows better. Today, she got out of her cage and walked around and attempted to get my attention but I was like, "I'm sleeping. Go away." I rolled over and ignored her. She went back to bed. Then, I don't know how much time passed, but Pilot Boy called and was like, 'What the hell are you doing in bed still? GET UP!"

I hate getting up in the mornings. But I like getting up in the morning. Its an odd battle. I like having a new day ahead of me, but at the same time, I like my nice, cozy, warm bed. I like the bed. I don't like the sleeping part so much, mostly just being warm and cozy (says the woman sitting in a tank top while staring at snow out a frozen window....)

I would like to blame the lack of light for my problems rising in the morning. However, I know this is only part of my problem. The other half of my problem is the fact I like the bed so much. If it wasn't so nice and comfy, I'd get up. Or if there was a barking dog in my face, I'd get up. I think, starting tomorrow, I might set the alarm on my cell phone to blast the "Doctor Who" theme at me at seven am. So I'll get up. I know I will get up if I set an alarm. Then I can get up, get breakfast and do something productive with my day. Like getting the vacuum fixed. (Also, I managed to get Pilot Boy to tell me where the spare bags were!)

Well, it is almost 12.30 and my hair is still wet. I should do something about it and go about what I had planned for the day: Watching Doctor Who on BBC America. I am a geek.

The Wrath of Carpet

I hate carpet.

I am dead serious. Who ever thought carpet was a good idea should, well, be forced to vacuum it with a vacuum cleaner that 1) doesn't seem to pick up dog hair and 2) cuts out because the cord if frayed.

I think my husband has a deep mental connection to the vacuum cleaner we have. When it needs "help" he just ignores it and says its fine. When I first married him, he had an Orek vacuum cleaner. My mother has two Orek vacuums. She got one for her wedding and like it so much, she got another one. (I think after we moved into a two floor house? I don't remember. I was three.) They have lasted and I never hated using them. I thought it'd be fine with Pilot Boy's Orek.

Hell no. I couldn't PUSH THE THING. Our first apartment was all carpet. I was trying to be nice, since I had no job, and clean the joint. The vacuum and I DID NOT GET ALONG. It was very hard to push and I was pretty sure it was not picking anything up.

Pilot Boy just said I was weak. I yelled at him and said he could vacuum.

So he did. (This often happens. I announce I am no longer doing something and he can do it, and he just usually does it.)

When we lived in the Dirt Hole, my mother came to visit me. She had heard me complain about the vacuum and couldn't believe an Orek would suck. (And not in the way it should.) She took one look at it, flipped it over and proclaimed it needed a new rubber band thingy. (She used the right name.) Oddly, the vacuum cleaner came with this little slot to keep a spare, so she put it on, while chiding Pilot Boy. I think she also cleaned out the brush and said we needed a new one.

Pilot Boy said we did not need a new brush, so we never got one. I would look online, I would contemplate going to the Orek store in the Dirt Hole (so surprised there was a Orek Store in the Dirt Hole...) But I never got one. I never ordered one because the shipping cost more than the brush and most places that were not HEB or Walmart freaked me out in the Dirt Hole. (Well, actually HEB and Walmart freaked me out, but they were so big, I felt like if I vanished, someone might notice, or at least a CTV camera would catch it.)

So, then I went home and my mother yelled at me for not ordering one. She tired on several occasions to get me to order one, but I had all ready decided I was going to get a new vacuum cleaner when I got to Alaska. I dreamed of a day I would have a super sucker. I also wanted to get one that was also a hand held vacuum, as I did not have one and with Basil Bea, I figured it was time to get one to clean the couches she dearly loved.

I got to Alaska and got the old vacuum back. The first time Pilot Boy got it out and turned it on....it started on fire and blew up.

I was THRILLED. (Other than the rancid smell.)

However, after telling my mother it blew up and telling her the familiar smell of yucky vacuum had appeared, she informed me that Pilot Boy had just broken the belt or something and I could get it fixed. Unfortunatly, PIlot Boy saw this email, so he sent me to get a new brush and rubber band thing. I took the parts with me to the shop and the guy said, "Yeah, you have a dog dont' you?"

I  nodded.

"I bet you have long hair too?"

I nodded again.

"You're going to have to clean this brush out or its going to get stuck and blow up again," he told me. He then told me I should bring my vacuum in for a tune up.

Pilot Boy scoffed at the tune up. "Its a flipping vacuum cleaner."

Our whole house is carpet. I am surprised they did not carpet the kitchen, in all honesty. Our dog is a shedding wonder. I have mysterious allergies. Least to say, I am not a happy camper in this house in the winter when I can't go outside and sit there for two hours to wait out a sinus headache.

Today, I was vacuuming. Yesterday I vacuumed. It takes an hour to do the upstairs. It takes another hour to do the downstairs. It takes almost a half hour to get the stairs really done. I was doing the stairs today and realized the tiny hand held I had gotten from my grandpa for free (it had come with the new vaccum my Grandma had ordered and she had stashed it away even though she could have given it to me since she all ready had a hand held vac that worked...but I digress.) was no longer sucking up anything. I changed the bag. It was kinda full (not full, but kinda full). I put a new bag in and tried again. Still wasn't really picking up dog hair, but the stairs look clean(er). I vacuumed the downstairs and sat down to look at the floor. Still had dog hair.

I do not mess with the vacuum. Mostly because I tend to break things when I mess with them. I just sat up, looked at Basil and said, "We're getting a new one."

She still looked freaked out. She hates the vacuum, but still follows me around looking freaked out. At least she doesn't throw up in front of it any more like she used to.

But, this whole vacuum drama just makes me hate carpet a little bit more. I haven't like it since the Dirt Hole, but I knew I was in trouble when we walked into this house and it was ALL CARPET. I saw hours and hours of my life drowning in dust and hair while I fight with the vacuum. Recently, its been cutting out randomly and turning itself out because the cord is frayed at the top. I could tape it, but it just makes me mad that I have to put this stupid thing together all the time.

I just want a new one. I want one where I can just dump out the crap at the end of my time. I want one that will suck up the dog hair on the first go and I do not have to spend an hour vacuuming my home. (Well, two hours. But I never do both on the same day.)

I have dreams of Dysons. I am serious. I have dreams about vacuuming with Dysons. I also have dreams I have wood floors and just have to swiffer up the dog hair. Which would never take me an hour and I would not have a dog barking at me while I was doing it.

Confession

I've all ready started listening to Christmas music.


Mostly because my iTunes player on random, mostly plays Christmas music. Any computer or music playing devince, when set to random, always seems to play Christmas music.

Well, that is, if is owned by me. I bet your player actually plays regular music more often than not. Mine just seem to like Christmas music. I gave in and since it looks like Christmas out there and the world has given up on Thanksgiving, I decided to be British and just celebrate Christmas after Halloween.

So there.

Basil Writes a Post

Hi! I'm Basil Bea Dog. I'd just like to tell you that I LOVE SNOW. It is like the greatest thing on this earth. I am totally serious. It might be better than Yummy Chummies. Or carrots. Though, not better than Turkey. Nothing trumps Turkey.

But it snowed a lot FINALLY. To the point where I can shove my head into it. No one is sure why I do this and I think I'd like to keep it a secret.

But, Alpha Dog let me outside yesterday morning and there was SNOW! And A LOT OF IT! I ran around leaping for joy! Then to make things better, she took me out and PLAYED WITH ME!

IN THE SNOW PEOPLE! IN THE SNOW!

I think we had a lot of fun. I'll share with you some of our fun.

 I found the kong in the yard. It was full of frozen snow goodness!

 It was also fun to run around with it in my mouth. I threw it at Alpha Dog a few times, but she never picked it up and ran around with it. She just doesn't get it.

 She fails to realize the fun you can have carrying things around in ones mouth. I mean, that is how I carry everything. She never carries things in her mouth. Except pins. I'm not sure why she does that.

Alpha dog likes to throw snow at me. She threw a snow ball at me there. I kinda wish I could throw a snow ball at her, but all I can do is jump on her with my snowy paws and make her wet. She doesn't seem to like that, but oh well.

Well, all, that was our play session in the snow. Today she only came outside for a few minutes and followed me around for a while till I went potty. She then went back inside, after telling me she didn't have any socks on. She had boots on. I hate boots. She told me I might have to wear my boots again if I didn't let her wipe my feet off. I let her wipe my feet off. I hate those boots.

And those dumb coats. I hate those too. I haven't seen those yet...I hope they do not make an appearance. Maybe I should stop shedding so much?

Love you!
Basil Bea Dog. (BARK BARK BARK)

Why You Should Not Buy a 2010 or new 4Runner if you plan to drive in Weather.

I drove up to Eagle River the other day. It wasn't snowing, raining, or anything, but the highway was wet, so there was junk flying at the windshield and I had to use the wipers to see.

During my 20 minute trip, I remembered another reason to hate my 4Runner. Never mind that it is huge, bulky and drop dead ugly, you cannot for the life of you DRIVE THE THING IN THE WINTER. Why? Because, you cannot see out any pertinate windows except the front and passenger side. The back windshiled wipers only clears a TINY portion of the window and not even where YOU NEED TO LOOK. The dumb ass spoiler on the back also adds insult to injury because it just adds to amount of junk that gathers on the window. Currently, I cannot see anything worth while out the window and if the cars refuse to use their lights, there is no hope of me seeing them at any given point. And not just because the back window is so caked with grime, no, that isn't just the issues any more.

When we traveled up here, we learned that when traveling at speeds of 50 or higher while using the wipers, kicks back grime onto the driver side window. Since the back window has been uselsess since any rain/snow/sleet/dirt/wind has been going on, I've taken to using the mirror to see what's behind me and make sure I'm not going to run anyone over in the Monstrosity. Well, during my 20 minute highway drive, this became almost impossible to do because the window was caked in grime from the front windshield. This occurred on our drive up here and I had forgotten. This isn't an issue when it rains. Just snow and ice and grime. In the lower 48, where they salt the living daylights out of things, this is a BIG PROBLEM, as the salt just sticks and is hard to get off the window. So, basically, when we drove up here, daily cleaning of the window took place because we couldn't even SEE the back window due to our belongings. Once we got here, and cleared the car out, we were like, Dear God. There is like five inches of grime on the back window. More than the rest of the car.

So, Mr. Toyota Car Maker, you SUCK. And I HATE YOU. HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE A CAR "BETTER" AND NOT TEST DRIVE IT IN WINTER CONDITIONS? YOUR REDESIGN OF THE 4RUNNER SUCKS AND YOU SHOULD ALL...WELL, BE FORCED TO DRIVE THE 4RUNNER IN ALASKA ALL WINTER AND NOT ALLOWED TO WASH IT. I GARANTEE YOU WILL CRASH AND DIE.

In other news, till I get a window washer thingy, I will have to risk my life in the Subaru, which has no winter tires (we thinks studded tires are lame and do not understand why the people of Alaska are holding on so hard to studded tires, they just ruin the roads. They make winter tires. The 4Runner has those. They work brilliantly).

That is all.

::steps off soap box ::

Total Winter Wonderland

It snowed on my birthday. I don't think its ever snowed on my birth date before in the location I have been located to celebrate it. But it snowed, like a real good snow fall.

And I shoveled it.

And then it snowed again.

And again.

Today, while waiting for the sun to show itself in the cloudy sky, i realized my back yard tree (the one I hate almost with as much flaming passion as the tree in the front), looks like it needs to be on the front of a Christmas card. The trees in other people's back yards look similar. The tree looked like this when we first moved in (granted it was burried in at least two feet of snow), but I loved the tree then. It was not till I began mowing the lawn in the spring did I grow to hate the tree.

How can I hate a tree? Easy, it attacks me. I am serious. I always looked horrible after mowing the lawn due to my battle with the trees. The tree in the front always bashed me in the head with its branches as I tried to mow under it. The tree in the back yard pulled my hair, threw bugs on me, threw leaves and other things on me and scratched me numerous times. Thus, I hate the tree. Both of them actually. Then, after beating me up all summer, they lost their leaves. SLOWLY. But they had so many leaves. I was not sure where the tree in the front got so many fracking leaves. Two WEEKS. TWO FREAKING WEEKS of raking and FOUR TRASH BAGS EACH WEEK. SERIOUSLY.

WE never raked the back yard. By the time we did the first week of raking, we gave up on the back yard. Pilot Boy mowed it, but then the next week, we just stared at the pile and told Basil Bea to go have fun.

Basil refuses to use the yard for fun unless it is covered in snow. She is my snow puppy and I love her. She ran at least a mile in the yard yesterday while I was out trying to clear the deck. Round and round Basil Bea flew, snow flying everywhere. She loves snow. What this poor snow loving dog was doing in Texas is beyond me. She hated Texas. She loves snow and cold.

Businessy Post

I've been working to re-write the copy on some of my gift bags and card sets. I'm not getting many hits on the site. I keep telling myself I am going to "advertise" and "market" myself, but then I do nothing because, well, I have no clue where to start. It is one of those drive things again.

Last holiday season, I had a "rush" of sorts. I actually was steadily selling a purse a week from late November till December. I think I sold one more purse before I closed up shop to move to Alaska. I felt "busy" during this time and I spent a lot of time driving my little Volvo to the post office. I never had to really stand in line when mailing off purses, because the boxes fit into the drop box.


This years I got my holiday items up early. I thought maybe I would have done more sales if I had gotten going on my holiday bags before November. I actually made holiday bags as an afterthought in all honesty. I was walking through Hancock Fabrics and they had a 50% sale on their holiday prints. I was like, "OMG! Christmas BAGS!"

And that was when I began making the bags. I think I bought most of the material a few weeks before Thanksgiving. I do remember I was working on them before the actual "holiday" season began, so my mother didn't want to hear Christmas music while I was working on my holiday stuff.

This year, I have a stock pile of stuff. I have the bags I had left over from last year and the paper items I made in...late September - early October. I will tell you this: Christmas stuff is hard to come by in September. Or early October. Most of the paper stuff was geared at Halloween and the fall. I remember when I wanted that sort of thing (when I made my wedding scrapbook) I was hard pressed to find ANYTHING like that. I was in the dirt hole and only had Wally Martinos to shop at, but still. Last fall I desprately wanted to re-do the scarpbook with the fall theme colors I wanted.

I never redid it. Because I realized how much it'd cost me. Paper is expensive.

Which bring me to another issue I have had with my card sets: price.

The stickers I use on them are EXPENSIVE. Like four bucks a set for most of them. The paper I used all came in a set or cost 75 cents a sheet. I wanted to faint when I bought the supplies. Last year when I made the gift bags for my family, everything I got was on sale. Also, things are cheaper in the lower 48. So, I priced them a little higher than I wanted.

I didn't sell a thing. They even had low hits. I mean, the cards and bags never did get many hits (except the Love Bird Bag, which I didn't want to post because I felt it was kinda lame). I have actually only sold one gift bag. I don't know if the person got it because they were an international customer and they never left feedback. But the convo response I got after I sent out the notice I had mailed it, it sounded like the person was excited. But the cards and gift bags kind of seem to be a small bust.

Which I expected. If I needed that sort of thing, I'd just make it myself. I just like making those sort of things a lot. And, well, I had planned to make my own holiday cards, but one of Pilot Boy's relaitves got us cards to send out this year. Kinda of like last year when my mom appeared with Christmas cards last year. But god, those were cute. They had a picture of Basil Bea with a big red nose and hat. Well, the dog looked a lot like Basil Bea. Basil Bea wrote the holiday letter too. I think I'll do something like that again this year for our holiday cards. I guess I should be working on that too...

Well, that is all.

I brace myself, I know it will hurt...

I turned 27 yesterday. Serious.

I kind of dreaded turning 27, as it seemed like such a large and old number to turn. I then began thinking what my 17 year old self would think of me....I'm pretty sure she'd be rather unimpressed by me for various reasons.

1. When I was 17, I was still under the delusion I was going to "be some one important."
2. I thought I'd be a writer by the time I was out of college. Or sooner.
3. I figured I'd be married.
4. I thought I'd gotten over my fear of giving birth.
5. I figured I'd be rich and have nice things by now, like a Prada purse.

At 27 I have....
1. Given up on my delusions of gradure.
2. Am not a writer and have nothing published passed what I had published in high school. In its own literary journal, both pieces which I was never that crazy about. I have no clue where to even start. And I have looked.
3. I am married. But not to who I figured at 17. I had no self esteem at 17. None. I might have been 105 pounds at 17, but I had no self esteem in the least. I might secretly wish I was 105 pounds again, but I do not wish I was anyway my 17 year old self. She had issues.
4. I am terrified of pushing another living being out of me. It actually makes me want to puke and clutch my legs shut. Clear sign: not ready for baby.
5. I do not have a Prada purse. I do not have designer shoes or clothing. I realized yesterday, most of my clothing comes from Old Navy of all places. My 17 year old self has nicer clothing. She at least wore Abercrombie and Guess?

The world keeps turning and I will continue to get gold. At some point my ten year views for myself and what I am will match up. (Like when I turn 33, my 23 year old self knew what I'd be, so by that point it won't be such a gap...lol.)

For my brithday, I did the following:

1. I got the oil changed in the Monstrosity. It took an hour and a half. Because it snowed.
2. I voted. Whoo hooo! My mother will talk to me!
3. I went shopping at Old Navy. (I am serious.)
4. I ate three cupcakes.
5. I shoveled the driveway in a sweater (from Old Navy) and no gloves. (I haven't found any at Old Navy I like.)
6. I shoved the deck and threw snow at Basil. (Does Old Navy make dog clothes?)
7. I watched True Blood.
8. I got mad I couldn't watch Indecision 2010 live. So I watched MSNBC and annoying CNN. Till ten.
9. I watched Indecision 2010 and then I watched Buffy. And then I went to bed.
10. I forgot to eat dinner. I had crabnerry sause and then I realized I hadn't eaten dinner, so I had crackers and lunch meat. And some organic cheese.
11. I was awake this A.M. by a phone call from some spanish speaking robot from West Virgina at 8 am. And I was 27.
12. As a new 27 year old, I will go to the gym and hopefully remember my gym shoes.

I tried to get my butt in gear....

We had no door bell ringing at our house. So either the not turning on any lights for two hours worked or no one was trick or treating around here because of the secret hours. Basil Bea was quiet for most of the night, her only barking fest taking place when I let her outside at four. She really doesn't light our neighbor in his own backyard. I usually have to physically go get her when he's out there. She then runs into the house with her tail between her legs because she knows she's a bad puppy dog.

So, Halloween is over. And I have no candy to eat, which might be a good thing. I am currently dressed to go to the gym, I have just yet to actually go.

I really ought to go to the gym more. When we lived in the dirt hole, I went at least three days a week to the gym. I always felt better after I went. It was easier to get to the gym in the dirt hole because it was just a few blocks away. I could walk to it. I usually did, till the summer and then I drove and felt silly.

Since arriving here, going to the gym has been a hard habit to pick up. I usually go one or twice in a week, then don't go for a few days and then I just stop going all together. I also don't like the gym here too much, as there is no nice, quiet place to stretch and do crunches. The dirt hole gym had nice quiet places for stretching out of the main area. This gym just seems to be all main area. Everything is located in a central area. There is no hiding. Personally, I like hiding. I spent at least an hour hiding in the gym in the dirt hole doing weights, stretches and crunches. Usually all alone by myself. Sometimes there were people in the area I used, but mostly it was just me. The area where the mats are here are out in the open and I hate using them. I don't like people watching me stretch if I am honest with myself. That was the issue I had with yoga classes. It was okay when it was just me, the teacher and R, but when other people started showing up (and R stopped), I stopped going. I told myself it was to save the 4 bucks the class cost, but that was a lie. I just hated being in the room with all those people who could see me stretch. I am lame, I know.

But, I am dressed to go to the gym. I should find my gym ID and just buck up and go. Also, the morning rush should be winding down now, so it won't be crowded. I hate crowded gyms (another reason I loved the dirt hole gym....it was never crowded).

Man, I am hard to please.