Apparenlty, I did good

I showed up to work today, which was actually last week, but, whatever, with my new sporty look.

The male coworker who originally gave me a hard time for wearing red on Homecoming weekend? Practically applauded. Then he asked me to name one player on Nevada's team and I had to admit that although I LOOK like I know what's going on, I really don't. He made sure that I know that the starting quarterback's name is Cody. "I think I can remember that", I said, "I dated a Cody and also had a goat named Cody. We should be good". Then he gave me crap about football-y stuff and had a good laugh. I'm okay with that, I laugh at me too. (BTW, I'm not FOOTBALL ignorant, just college football ignorant. Clearly, that will have to change.) Plus, it's fun when that coworker gets all silly and excited about stuff because ordinarily, he is quite stoic.

And our courier says I'm rockin' the look and that I did a good job.

Which means I'm super excited for HM to see what I came up with. It makes me feel all girly and stuff. Which is good. It kind of makes me wish that I had bought something in nylon with holes in it sooner.

Not really. I hate this shit. But since it's a "jersey" I can deal.

It was a rant-y couple of days, but first, a recap

I went shopping. Which should, if you have been around for any length of time tell you everything. Sine I'm a butt head, I'm going to split my adventure into a few different posts because, well, I haven't been that great about writing and to be honest, I like the whole series writing idea rather that a big long diatribe that takes forever to get through.

So lets just say, that I went shopping and had an epiphany before it was over.

Yes I am a tease.

Things have been pretty good around the Elfin Cottage lately, I have a new roommate who doesn't drive me crazy (although I did have to leave a note asking her to corral her bananas due to my extreme allergy) and things are settling down. I had a couple of weeks of crazy, which aren't quite over yet, but I'm getting there. I've been working out and eating WAY too much Top Ramen, which tastes REALLY GOOD if you leave out the flavor packet and add a little Soy Vey Teriyaki instead.

Had a GREAT birthday, even if I did end up in bed by 8:30. But, this happens when you're drunk by noon. The day was made up of many adventures and perfect parts that I wouldn't have changed. Like breakfast with HM and picnic lunch under the trees with the girls. I am blessed in the people that I know.

I googly eyed just about everything that wouldn't be destroyed in the process. Did you know I have an Instagram account? If you ever want photos of my madness, look up gracenmotion (ginamonster was taken, as was soapgirl). There are a lot of pictures of googly eyes. and my dog.

Good times.

I suck at the regular updates

Really the most of what has been going on is nothing too exciting. And Roomate. And seeing that guy I see sometimes more often so I shall refer to him as Handsome Man (HM) on the rare occasion that I mention him in passing.

BUT I did have to share this cube conversation with you...

B: MMM Raley's Pizza for dinner

Me: I think we are having Steamers (Steamers is a pizza place at King's Beach in Tahoe)

B: Cleveland Steamers?

Me: Eew. No.

and then the giggles began. because we're 12.

Why I will never be a go-go dancer

Saturday night was full of all sorts of weird little stories.

Some of the casinos in town have go-go dancers for the entertainment of the guests at night. The one we were at was one of these and while we sipped our drinks, we watched.

There are many reasons why I will never be a go-go dancer.

It isn't the outfit, although I am too fat to wear what they were wearing. I'm not fat, and the gym is helping me slim down, but no matter how fit I get, I will always be too fat to wear a bra, underwear, and fishnets in public.

It isn't the age, although I do think I'm too old. One of my cohorts pointed out that if you're over 25 you're over the hill for a go-go dancer, and I'm okay with knowing that I'm too old to go prancing around on a mini stage.

No, the reason I will never be a go-go dancer is because I just can't do those deep knee bend dance moves. Every time she did it, I pictured myself going down and failing to get back up. Struggling to stand while teetering in my heels, finally duck walking about until I find something to grab hold of... Nobody needs to see that. Good thing I'm too old and fat to try!

Another Roommate Vlog

Valentines Day crafts

Every year, I make Valentines Day cards instead of Christmas cards not because I like V-Day (not a fan, actually) but because I want to be different and it is a great excuse to tell the people that I love that I well, love them.

I make them partially because I am cheap, partially because I think that the greeting card industry is a little silly, and a lot because I feel like it means more that way.

This year, plan A didn't work out. I don't remember what it was, but it was a fail. Now I remember. Equipment fail, not crafter fail.

Plan... next was a GREAT idea, I just needed to commit to actually carving the linoleum block I've been hanging onto for at least  a year.

I learned to carve printing blocks in 8th grade art class. It might have even been 7th grade. My teacher was all sorts of awesome and a couple of the projects she introduced to us were so amazing, I still want to do them. Seriously, best art teacher ever.

About 10 years ago, I decided I was going to try it again, bought all the stuff, never did, and amazingly, purged all the stuff.

About 1 year ago, I decided I was going to try it again, bought all the stuff, and did NOT purge it in the last purging.

Now, I have commitment issues. this is why I cut that guy I see sometimes a lot of slack. This is also why I have a lot of project IDEAS, but not a lot of completed projects. I am trying to change that.

Tonight, I drew out my design, made sure the block was the right size for the paper, and started carving.

I stabbed myself in the finger. Those cutters are sharp.

I accidentally carved what appears to be a vagina in the corner. It's not supposed to be a hoo ha. I took a deep breath and kept on going even though I know that my family will happily point it out.

Then, I headed to the gym because I needed to go. While on the evil yellow thing that I secretly love because it kicks my butt, I realized something important.

I carved my design portrait instead of landscape. I need a new block.

It's no wonder I have commitment issues.

I'm still going to finish it because it can be used for other projects. And no, you can't see a picture right now because I want the card to be a SURPRISE. If I get my shit together, I'll post it on Valentines Day. Until then, I think I'll start another hat. I've yet to draw blood with my knitting needles.

As promised, A Roomate Video Blog

My search for more things to do

I figured that if I am going to start posting crafts for the single and childless, I should probably research some to try. So I entered "Crafts for the Single and Childless" into my favorite search engine and landed in my own blog.

Then I saw some articles that discussed all the thigs that were wrong with women who choose to remain childless, some of which probably ended with something to effect of "there's nothing wrong with us, asshole"

It seems to me that I've hit upon a niche market, but I don't know where to start. After all, most of the things that I do can be done with children around, the trouble is that sometimes those children (and the men that I date) simply make it difficult to execute said craft. Kind of like how my cats used to like to play in the fabric after I carefully laid it down on the floor for measuring and cutting.

Children ALWAYS want to try treadling the spinning wheel (and sometimes I let them) and the guy that I see sometimes has been known to pull my knitting needle out of my knitting. Kind of like my cat used to. I can't decide if he wants my undivided attention while he watches TV or if he's just a brat. I'm going for the second there. It's not animal cruelty if I stab him with said needle, however, and is only a crime if I break the skin or leave a bruise so, retribution does occasionally occur. And by occasionally, since I only see him occasionally, I mean rare indeed.

So think I should start brainstorming crafts that involve things that kids just should not have access to. Like drugs and hard alcohol.

I kid. That stuff is expensive. I just don't have the funds for clever cocaine sculptures. (that ought to bring in some interesting search hits) AND, I wouldn't know where to get that sort of thing anyway. AND blog fodder simply isn't worth a felony. Can I blog from prison? Who would take care of Chango and Baby? I would have to make soap out of... oh my goodness, lets not go there today.

NORMAL stuff you really aren't supposed to let your kids handle generally means something sharp, and chemical-y, and hot. I'm pretty sure I have all that stuff so as soon as I finish knitting that hat I'm making out of yarn that I spun (gee, I hope I have enough of it!) I'll get on that. Meanwhile, I think the hat should count since its sitting out in the open and is not in any danger of dropped stitches, cookie drool, or boogers.

The other moral of this story is that cats and men can be buttheads. But since they are cute and furry and snuggly, they are forgiven.

Crafts for the single and childless

I am a maker. This is not news.

I love pinterest. This is also (probably) not news.

Pinterest helps me in many ways. It provides an easy reference for inspiration and easy to find instructions (mostly) and allows me a virtual place where I can save all those neat things I find on the internet which USED to get printed out but now get pinned. So there is less paperwork and random napkins with websites jotted down.

HOORAY!

However, Pinterest, very early on, was overtaken by Mommy Bloggers and super moms who homeschool their children and, from what I hear from many moms, create an unrealistic expectation on how you should be raising your kid.

I don't know, I don't have kids. But if I did, and I thought I was supposed to be making them homemade play dough and sprinkling their dreams with fairy dust every night, I might feel a little guilty about using cake mix instead of doing everything by scratch and organically. With fantastic pictures. Because we are all professional photographers and with the advent of the digital camera, there is no excuse not to take perfect pictures. (sarcasm. I'm better at it than photography)

ANYHOW!

I digress. I'm good at that too. (digression?)

Since plan A for my yearly homemade Valentines Day cards didn't work out due to faulty rubber stamps (damnit), I went to Pinterest to find fresh inspiration. What I found was that unless I have some little baby feet to stamp onto my cards and decorate to appear like animals, I may as well take my pathetic barren uterus and find a depressing closet to curl up in. I'm thinking the coat closet since in addition to the vacuum, dog hair tends to gather there.

I'm kidding about my uterus. I like it empty. Can you imagine if I had accidentally gotten knocked up at some point over the years? My poor warped children would be stuck with me as a mom and well, we know I'm not really very good at picking out men for myself. Good guys, remember, just not generally good for me.

I guess the point is that I'd better start making some inspirational stuff for those of us who don't have a plethora of baby feet to paint and press on stuff. I'll get right on that. I should probably dust off the digital camera first...

My Epiphany

As you know from my last post, after reading about an Epiphany cake, I decided I needed to make one. Then I remembered that I don't have money to put in said Epiphany cake. Which is probably good because I'm not actually Christian, do not celebrate Epiphany, and would likely make a mockery of this occasion.

The universe in all it's wiseassery, still answered my Epiphany prayer. I'm still giggling.

I spent most of my weekend cleaning out and reorganizing my Studio (which really needs a more creative name. I'm open for suggestions. G Rated ones. I can't go around on the Bubbly Creations blog and Twitter talking about my Sadomasochistic Sex Dungeon, which, I have friends that swear existed in my last house. I never found it).

About halfway through yesterday, I decided I needed a cookie. After all, I CLEANED OUT THE STUDIO. It's so clean that I can roll my chair at high speeds from one corner to the other. I even took a video of it. The chair rolling.

I stopped the madness for a few minutes (BEFORE I threw up from all that chair rolling) and made some chocolate chip cookies.

I use the term "chocolate chip" loosely because it turns out that before he went off to his new home, Oliver ate all but about 10 of my delicious 60% cocoa dark chocolate chips without telling me JUST TO SPITE ME one last time.

I mixed them in anyway. The cookies are delicious. And, maybe, just MAYBE, you'll get one with a prize inside! One tasty melty molten chocolate chip surprise. Happy Epiphany to me!

To use the alternate definition of epiphany, I had one. Then I forgot what it was. But since I want to upload said video, I might remember before you even knew I forgot.

30 seconds later... Oh yeah! I should probably check stock on my chocolate chips more often now that Oliver has a new home and won't be eating them all when I am not paying attention...

The video. Watch at your own risk.

It's a new year. Again.

I don't really make resolutions. Or at least, not ones that I intend to keep. I'd rather act on bettering myself NOW as opposed to saving it for the end of the calendar when I might have forgotten how I wanted to better myself AND when there is so much expectation. This is why I started organizing my life back in July. And why I started exercising more in June, with a step up in August. It's why I took my finances by the horns in November even though we were THIS CLOSE to the traditional period of goal setting.

Somehow that went a lot more in a serious direction than I intended, but I'm also going though a more serious period.

Which is why it was really good that I decided to pretend for a little bit that I couldn't afford it and head over the hill to Six Flags for New Year's Eve.

When the clock struck twelve, I was on a roller coaster. The fireworks were going off and my wifey was by my side. There were no new year kisses, no boys (Holger doesn't count), and for a rare occasion, I was okay with that. As I rode that coaster twice more (all together 4x in a row) I thought about how my life is going right now and how good it feels to be putting it all together and heading in a positive direction. I also thought about how a fifth round would likely make me puke.

To me, my New Year holiday was perfect. A little bit of adventure, and a bright outlook for the future. Good company, and a unique way to hurtle into 2013.

Color me... Colorful

Today, I run. Maybe. I've been spending enough time at the gym that I think I might run some of it. Color Me Rad. I've been looking forward to it for months. It's going to be awesome.

At this time last year, I was taking a deep breath before I did Tough Mudder. If you're nice, I'll show you my headband.

There is no comparing the two. I expected tough Mudder to be a little bit more difficult than the Pendleton Mud Run which is the race that got me into obsacle races. I did it twice.

They can't be compared. Mudder was ALL TERRAIN and the PMR NEVER made me dive into a construction dumpster full of ice. And Mudder was about 11(+) miles (it would have been more but we got truncated for time) with the PMR at 6.2.

Color Me Rad will be WAY easier!

My cousin is going. Dana never did the PMR because she's been living in Nor Cal for a really long time. But she joined Team Fluffy Ninja Monkey for the Mudder and for someone who was not feeling well, was a trooper. We lost two members of TFNM during the Mudder - One was not at all prepared and was puking by the time we reached the top of Squaw Peak, and the other broke his foot as we started the trek down. Sgt. Sinister tried to keep going but his foot went numb and he couldn't walk on it anymore. Dana and I crossed the finish line together. Which was good because her husband was nearby to take video of me on the second to last obstacle.

Because I was being an idiot, I did not register us under TFNM, but I'm going to make us Tee Shirts anyway. In preparation for her arrival, I asked her if there was anything she wanted to eat while she is here. She replied that she will eat what I eat. The following... well, followed:

"You don’t want to eat what I eat… Except the zucchini bread. It’s delicious. And homemade. Not by me, by my ex's mom who still loves me and Wifey so much that she makes sure we get plenty of zucchini bread. Which makes the ex stabby. Not because he dislikes me, but because the bread is so good, he doesn’t like to share. But I might make cookies tonight. We’ll NEED those for fuel tomorrow. I’ll put them in my fanny pack*. I suspect we will be the envy of all the other run walkers.
I’ll pick up some basics tonight so that we don’t starve. My refrigerator currently consists of fruit (which needs canning) and soy sauce. And beer.

Consequently, Wifey IS doing the Tough Mudder (again) tomorrow. I would do it again, but I injured my shoulder last year and I still have trouble with it. Maybe next year I will think about trying again.

*I don't actually have a fanny pack, I have one of those cash belts you are supposed to carry when you travel to other countries. I tend to stuff it so full that it may as well BE a fanny pack, but I just can't bring myself to use a real one. The shot blocks in my little belt of wonders sustained our entire team during Mudder because I brought WAY more than I would have needed. It has been agreed that after 7+ hours of running and obstacles, we might have passed out without them.

It's a Monty Python Day

There are some days when all things revolve around a certain theme. Like Sunday when there were references to the Goonies all day long. Two different friends in two different states watched it which spawned ME watching it, and the beat goes on. This happens a lot with the Goonies. Because it's awesome. Now I want a Baby Ruth. I'm kidding, I don't actually think I like Baby Ruth, they are a little too sweet. Like my coffee this morning. But the Stevia is covering up the terrible coffee so I am not complaining too loudly.

This morning, I woke up to the sound of NPR discussing sea snails off the coast of Baja, CA and to introduce the segment, they played the Monty Python Gastropod skit from, I believe, The Meaning of Life. Then, Passive Aggressive Notes referenced The Life of Brian. and THEN Liv Lane brought it all back to The Meaning of Life again and I had to say something.

I just hope that this doesn't mean that I will come home to a dead parrot.

Vegas Notations

One thing I noticed while I was in Las Vegas is that I am skinny. In the swimming pool. Seriously. Normally, in my bathing suit, I look something like this:

Only I'm pretty sure I have hands and I hope my crotch isn't square. My head really is that small though. So, yeah. I look like a normal middle aged woman with giant thighs. and one razor sharp tibia. I stand like that too. Really. I've been working on standing with my feet parallel because I think it will take pressure off my knees.

ANYHOW, I noticed that when I was in the pool, all of the sudden, my fat was evenly distributed. I felt firm and skinny and normal and not at all buoyant. I'm a sinker. bloop. right down too the bottom unless I maintain a whole lot of air in my lungs.

So now that I have returned from Vegas, I am going to build myself a water tank and live in it. So I can be skinny all the time. And you know, all that treading of water might just make that dream come true.

Or I could stop drinking booze. But I think the water tank is a much better idea.

I am orange because I am tan. notice that I magically don't lose any boobage. That's some talent right there.

Happy Places

It's odd, how my brain works. Or doesn't work, depending on the moment and whether I am properly fed. You know, with good nutrition and plenty of it. I'm blaming my current extreme inability to focus on anything I am supposed to be doing on the fact that last night my dinner consisted of Vodka, Chocolate Chip Cookies, and Taco Bell.

It must be the Taco Bell that is causing problems because we all know I exist quite well on a diet of vodka and chocolate chip cookies.

Not the point. again.

The point is, that as distracted as I appear on a normal basis, I am often hiding additional distractions that are going on in my head.

My brain, brilliant though it can be, takes random vacations to far off places at strange times. I call it going to my happy place.

Here's the thing. My happy place? Totally not a verdant meadow full of unicorns.

No. In my early twenties, it was a hillside in San Diego County covered in prickly pear cactus. Lately, my brain transports me to Placerville.

I've only been to Placerville once. I was passing through. It looked like an interesting town to spend an hour. Maybe there are thrift stores or antiques or something. I do know there is history and I sure do like that.

Sometimes I consider why my brain sends me to these places. Perhaps there is buried treasure on that hillside of prickly pear. Maybe there's something special for me lurking in Placerville. I do know that I need to go get the soap that I have on consignment in Quincy. But Quincy and Placerville are in different directions.

No, I think my brain is just wired funny. Because running reports triggers a mind trip to Placerville and I'm not even going to tell you what triggered the prickly hillside...

In which I fall madly in love...

... With Louise.

Every year, Kings Beach Tahoe hosts fireworks on the third of July. This is the first year I have been able to attend them. I have to say, it was pretty nice.

By far, though, the best part of the evening happened something like this:

We were driving a bit looking for a parking spot when we saw our friends Grant and Louise walking on the side of the road. Like any good friend, I stuck my head out the window and started hooting and hollering.

"Wooo! OW! Nice Bootie!" (yes, I really did say bootie)

Some strange reasonably young man replied, "Dude, lady, calm down" the rest was lost, but it was obvious that he thought I was hitting on him.

to which Louise replied, "She was talking to me."

apparently this shut down his attitude.

I love Louise.

The moral of the story is, don't assume its for you.

Horrifying photos

We have already discovered that I have a lot of weird fears.

I discussed at some point last week that I will not willingly put my hand somewhere I can't see into.

I just remembered something else that gives me the heebie jeebies.

Before I begin, let me explain to you that I love swimming pools. They are all clean and nice and there are no water plants. Typically, you can see the bottom.

But I hate the skimmer. I don't mind taking the lid off to look in there, but I will not reach in from poolside.

So you can imagine my horror when I found this picture:

(Photo compliments of Liberty Pool & Spa)

THERE'S A BABY IN THE SKIMMER!!!

I'll be curled up under my desk if you need me. Maybe not. Its dark under there. There could be things lurking.

We're still funny from Friday

Bratty tends to get the music from Super Mario Brothers stuck in her head. Which means that she will sing it thorughout the day. Which means that one or both of us is singing along to the Super Mario Brothers game playing on our heads.

Original NES style.

So I played "Super Mario Brothers Ghost". You know, Boo? Who I always think should be called Boo Radley but everyone knows that's the guy from "To Kill a Mockingbird", which is what I think about when I talk about putting stuff in the knotholes of trees. Depositrees.

I was nearly biting Bratty's head when I realized that the guy accross the way (who tends to be amused by our antics far more than he is crankypants, BTW) could SEE me making scary hands and fangy face at Bratty so I retreated the two feet back to my chair, embarassed and giggly.

I don't even think he noticed. But he was cranky pants that day. (which was Friday but I'm posting to the future again)

Amusing ourselves.

I know that you have noticed that I tend to have a lot of typos. And it tends to create all sorts of giggling in the cube. (which just got me snapped at by the guy accross the way, but what he doesn't know is that I need to be giggling right now. weepy, snotty monsters are no fun to work with. I'm okay with him not knowing that. Home drama does not belong at work.)

That is not the point. The point is, that I tend to misspell the word "Depository" mostly because it is not pronounced that way in common conversation. Instead, I spell it "Depositry" which is probably why Hooked on Phonics went out of business.

I forget to use Spell Check. Always. Except when I send an email since outlook is awesome and I set it up to be automatic.

That is also not the point.

The point is, that I explained to Bratty that it IS a Depositry when you are depositing your money or precious things into the knothole of the tree in your yard.

Which I have never done. Because the only tree with a knothole in my yard when I was a kid had bees in it. (The tree in my yard now is too little to have knotholes. It's not going to get any bigger because it is dead.someday I will chop it down. With an axe. More on that later) That may be a bit of an exaggeration, we had a lot of trees. but I only remember one having a hole in it.

The knothole story brought up the fact that I will not willingly stick my hand or fingers into holes I can't see into. I'm afraid there will be bugs in there. or dead things. Or leaves. Or really anything that might go TSSS or crunch when I touch it.

This is why I will not go rock climbing. I have reoccurring thoughts of what it would be like to reach into a crack, halfway up a mountain, find something scary, let go and fall off.

No thank you.

This conversation reminded me of the fact that I can't see under my desk and that there might be scary things lurking under there. It took awhile before I stopped being afraid of the underneath of my desk, although now that I mention it, it's creepy under there.

Lost without you

I really dislike our society's current misuse of the terms "obsessed" and "addicted" because I tend to feel like these terms describe something far more serious than you really like tuna sammiches and that's all you want to eat right now or gee, I sure do like roses and like to have them on my dining room table. (I do like roses but I no longer have a dining room table)

No, in my world an obsession is something you can't stop thinking about. It's something dark and clinical and can be dangerous. It can go hand in hand with an addiction which to me means your body has become so accustomed to a substance be it made by your body (Adrenalin and endorphins) or something you ingest like cocaine or caffeine. Sugar.

I also am very very careful with the term "Love". I love my mom. And my siblings. and their children. There are a few men from my past that I will admit (in my head) to having loved. I know I loved them because part of me still does and always will even though I know now that we are better off not together. I love my critters. The very sight of them brings me an unbelievable amount of joy from the very depths of my soul.

I try not to love things.

But I can't help it. I love my Striiv. It's all I talk about. I check it all day. It's not the same kind of love I feel for the living things in my life, but when I dropped it yesterday and it wouldn't turn back on, I didn't know what to do with myself.

When I woke up this morning, I thought, OH BOY! Another day of reaching goals! And then I remembered.

I feel nakid without it by my side.

I don't want to get up off my lazy butt to go get things off the printer because, why? Walking just isn't fun anymore.

I want my centaurs to wave at me. I want to get more fairies and tigers and what else will come up that I don't know about? It's fun. It's exciting.

I'm pretty sure that I have completed another marathon since I last logged in. Earned more water for needy children. Maybe even a polio vaccine. How far up Mt Everest have I climbed?

I may never know! And now that I know that I CAN know, I WANT to know!

I contacted customer service. They got right back to me! They even gave me a link to a squishy cover for clumsy people like me. He told me how to fix it (we hope!) but I left it at home today. I'm still trying to decide if I should take my lunch break to go get it. Silly? Yes. But I have never said that I am not. If it is really really broken for ever, he gave me a coupon code for a discount on a new one. I hope I don't have to use it, but it's totally worth every penny. The customer service has been great. I want to send them cupcakes. Or cookies.

I'm totally not getting paid for any of this gushing. And since the Striiv is all I seem to be able to talk about lately, I'm sure that I will be letting you know how it all pans out.