Silicone Shrapnel

Just a little thanks

2009-11-03T18:13:00.010-07:00

So, I know that my last post was all boring and sappy and ooohweee look at me now hooplah, and I know I promised that the next post would be funny and full of curse words again. Oh wait, maybe I didn't promise curse words, but I'm pretty sure that's what you expected. Well, bare with me because I've got one more post of healthy l-i-v-i-n before I get back to the sarcastic posts and pictures of random strangers sleeping in their cars...and boy do I have some of those bad boys.

I promise this one won't be nearly as long as the last. I just want to share a little secret with you guys. I mentioned before that my eating habits were changing and I was making an effort to take better care of my body. The first few weeks were a little difficult and I was craving bad foods more than I would have liked. I was focusing a lot on all of the things I could no longer have...milk, cheese, white bread, pasta...the list was getting longer and longer. I knew my success was going to be short lived if I continued to focus on all the losses. So I turned to my trusty internet in search of hope and inspiration. I read through diet and fitness blogs day and night and just got more overwhelmed in my search for better health. One site said to stop eating carbs, one said to count calories, while another told me to give myself two points for that piece of toast and to subtract a point for walking the dog. Holy hell. How was it possible that treating your body right could be so difficult!?!?! I was ready to give up.

And then I found Gina....aka http://www.fitnessista.com/. I read four or five entries and then stopped myself. I was instantly hooked and decided it would be best to start reading from the beginning. So I traveled back in time and started at her first entry in June of 2008. Oh My God!! This girl is amazing. She loves chocolate and red wine, she's married to a super hottie Air Force pilot, teaches Zumba, is a personal trainer, takes pictures of her silly adorable puppies, eats Indian food like a mofo, cooks up a storm, is drop dead gorgeous, and is pretty much amazing in every possible way.

She's taught me that food is fuel and my body desperately needs healthy whole foods to run properly. It doesn't need processed fake products that claim to be food. She taught me that it doesn't matter how much money I spend on skin care products, if I'm eating artificial ingredients and preservatives that are screwing up my skin from deep inside. I've learned to quit focusing on the list of foods I shouldn't be eating and instead focus on why I shouldn't eat those foods as well as really enjoy the much looooooonger list of great foods I should be enjoying. (Who knew veggies were so yummy??) I've learned to enjoy working out in a way I never have before. I no longer see it as a task or a chore, and instead actually look forward to waking up at 6:00 for a yoga session in my living room. (I know!! Who the hell am I!?) And for all of those days where I said "Oh I don't have time to get that done today"....ummm this chick had like 15 jobs at one time and still managed to cook her man a beautiful dinner and walk her dogs for an hour. Amazing.

I found her blog during my search for nutritional information and have walked away with so, so, so much more. I never thought a woman I've never met could inspire me so much but she has actually made me a better person. I'm healthier, happier, and wiser because of her.

I've managed to read a year's worth of blog entries in the last few weeks, and have about six months of entries before I'm all caught up. If you decide to become addicted to this girl's site (which you totally should), I recommend starting from the beginning as I did. Her healthy lifestyle is a work in progress, as it should be for all of us, and its a little easier to follow, understand, and even mimic her eating habits as they progress through time.

I hope you will take a few moments to stop by her blog and appreciate her for the amazing inspiration that she is. She's given me so much in just a few weeks and I hope she'll have the same influence on you. I'm gonna go cuddle on the couch with that gorgeous man of mine now, but before I go, I'll leave you with a few pictures of my new food discoveries to make your mouths water.

Brocolli Slaw cooked up with garlic, spinach, tomato sauce and dash of Sriracha...

Butternut Squash soup with onions, carrots, peppers, coconut milk and curry. And yeah, a bite of Shawn's jalapeno corn bread because...well it was awesome, that's why. :)

Tonight's dinner...Spaghetti Squash with Artichoke, Spinach, and Pesto Marinara (yeah that's right...squash, not pasta....amazing!!)

And finally, my latest discovery at Sprouts Farmer's Market. Dark Chocolate covered Honey Comb. I didn't actually make this, but I did eat it and Oh fuck this stuff is just insanely good...it deserved a picture too.

Oh what a change

2009-10-15T16:32:00.012-06:00

I want to apologize for a few things. I haven't really treated this blog with much care lately. Actually, I pretty much forgot all about it for a while. Granted, I have good reasons for this, that I will explain in a bit, but I'm still sorry. I am also sorry that I am finally writing a post and I don't really have any exciting pictures to entertain you with. I try to put as many pictures in my blog posts as possible because, well, I read blogs and I have the attention span of a two year old, so I personally like a lot of pictures. I just naturally assume that my readers are exactly like me and therefor only come here to look at the goofy pictures. This post is more of a 'here's whats going on, and its not really funny, but if you are curious, read on...if not, skip it...its okay with me' post. So I'm sorry for that, but I promise, my next post will be all silly again and include lots of pictures. I mean, you are spending your valuable time reading this blog...the least I could do is give you something in return.

So, what could I possibly have been up to that took my precious time away from my beloved internet? (In all honesty, I still frequent the internet...its mostly just this blog that I skipped out on). Life. Life happened. And for the first time in a long time, it was a good thing. It took some work, a lot of encouragement (thanks, Shawn), and a little percocet, but things are actually headed in the right direction. Let me start from the beginning.

For many people, there is no question what they want to be when they grow up. When you were four years old you wanted to be a teacher, and you did good in school, went to college, and became a teacher. And you've never looked back. For some, it was a little later, but in high school or college, you found your calling. You became a doctor, a social worker, a ballerina, whatever it may be. You knew what you were meant to do and your heart is honestly happy doing it every day. And those people are the people I am most, most, most jealous of.

When I was little, I wanted to be a teacher, a cop, a doctor, a lawyer, a marine biologist, and a million other things. When I was 13, I wanted to be a chef and applied to the culinary institute in Portland. I cried when I was rejected. When I got to high school, my career ambitions got even bigger and more random. I wanted to be a professional scuba diver, an archaeologist, or a journalist. I graduated and headed to college, my major 'undeclared'.

My first class at a real university was a freshmen seminar course called "The Evolution of Male Aggression". I learned about chimpanzees and ancient tribes and Africa and people that were so much more interesting than me. I was hooked. I decided to be an anthropologist. I wanted to move to South America and study ways of living that were polar opposite of mine. I was happy and interested and felt like I had found my calling. Then I had a meeting with my guidance counselor who explained that most anthropologists don't really get paid. She explained that if I liked having a car and decent clothes and food on the table, I might want to head in a different direction.

That day, I sold out and changed my major to pre-nursing. My mom was the most excited person in the world when she found out I was going to be a nurse. I took two years of pre-requisite classes before I could start the nursing program. In those two years, the only class I truly, truly enjoyed was my elective art class....photography. It was the only class that I never skipped. I looked forward to every single project and couldn't wait to spend hours in the dark room. That class made me realize I had no desire to be a nurse. I quit nursing school.

By that point, I wasn't sure if I could support myself being a photographer so I continued working odd jobs to pay the bills while I figured my life out. I stepped away from school, in hopes of straightening my head out, and instead, fell into a pit. I entered a three year relationship with an amazing man who was most definitely not my soul mate. I, once again, tried to make something work against my better judgement and got even more lost in the mean time. I put my camera in the closet and didn't take it out until I had forgotten how to use it. I went to real estate school simply because it would only take a few months and I could make good money. I had no real desire to be a realtor. Because of this, I made it 2/3 of the way through school before quitting.

I realized (after a long talk with my much smarter sister) that I needed to straighten things up a bit so i broke up with my fiance, got my own apartment, and met Shawn. He encouraged me to go back to real estate school and finish what I had started. A year and a half after I had originally signed up, I returned, passed my tests, and became a licensed Realtor. Not long after, we bought our first place. Things were going so great with Shawn but I just wasn't happy with my career choice. I felt that success in real estate meant I had to change who I was. Realtors are always smiley, with shoulder pads and brief cases. They have big hair and talk to everyone and anyone. I am anti-social and fairly blunt. I don't like speaking to strangers. It didn't seem like a great fit.

Then a few months ago, things changed. Shawn enrolled in school. Here's a guy who had everything against him. He came from a very broken family, dropped out of high school, intended to spend the rest of his life as a bartender. It wasn't until our relationship got really serious that he decided he needed to better his life, and working in a bar wasn't going to do it. He finally started to realize that he had all of this potential and he was wasting it away. He got his GED and enrolled in school. His passion in life has always been cars. He is going to school and plans to become a shop manager at an Audi dealership. He's been in school for 10 weeks, has perfect attendance, a 4.0 GPA, and is thrilled to get up at 5:30 every morning to go to class. It amazes me every day.

His decision to change his life lit some crazy light in my heart. I've had a million career dreams and a ridiculous amount of shitty jobs. I've waited tables, cleaned hospitals, driven shuttle buses, you name it I've done it. I've taken THE MOST random classes in every possible subject. None of these things shed even the slightest light on what I wanted to be when I grew up. And here I was, 26 years old...grown up.

And then it hit me. Throughout my life and all my changes of mind, there was one constant. One thing that was always a given. One thing that sparked a raging fire in my heart. I've known since I was a little girl that when I grew up I wanted to be a mom. I've always known that was the one thing I was MEANT to do, but I was always searching for my dream career...as if those two things weren't one and the same. In the last few months, I have finally realized that I was in fact one of those people who knew, from day one, what they wanted to be when they grew up. It just happened to be a passion that many people disregard as something less. While you may want to be a doctor or a lawyer, all I really want to be is a mom.

And so we get to the present. This little realization of mine has changed my life. I've had a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I realize that my life is a little too messy and I have far too much stress, not to mention debt, right now to raise a child the way I want, so I'm working on fixing these things. I went back to my real estate company and told my mentor that I was going to give it everything I have for the next two years. By that point, I will have all of my debt paid off, and more importantly, I will know if real estate is something I want to continue doing. Its not a life long commitment, its just a commitment to well, commitment. I commit to this for two years and that's awesome. It takes away the stress. I don't have to sell out. I don't have to change who I am. I've stayed true to myself, just with a little more drive, and in no time, I had my first client, and am heading to my first closing in a few weeks. Today, my client asked for a stack of business cards because he is recommending me to all of his friends. And I didn't even have to wear shoulder pads.

On the health side, I took a good look at myself and realize that the odds are against me physically having children and living long enough to see them grow into amazing adults. No matter how many times I've tried to hide or deny it, I've got numerous cancers looming over my head, not to mention other reproductive issues, oh and did I mention I'm still waiting tables part time...in a smoking lounge? Yeah that's not good for me either. So I've revamped the way I treat my body. I'm eating a ton of food...that is super good for me. I gave up the fast food, the red meat, the white bread, and pretty much all dairy. I've lost 12.5 lbs in 6 weeks. I feel a ton better about myself and I really feel like I'm giving myself a fighting chance. I've spent my whole life trying to find a path, a purpose, and now that I've found it, I refuse to be defeated by some genetic bull shit. I'm gonna kick the shit out of those crappy odds.

So here I am, 26 years old. Truly happy for the first time in a long, long time. I have a great man by my side encouraging me every single day. I have a new career path that surprisingly allows me to be me, with the hours and clients I choose, and good money....that part is nice too. And I have a future, a good one. One that will someday be filled with an adorable baby and a wonderful husband and ridiculous amounts of joy. I've dusted off my old camera and remembered why I loved it so much. I plan on taking more photography classes because now I realize you can take classes simply for fun, and not always for a future job. And I'm already planning the amazing trips to South America and Africa, where I can meet amazing people, simply because I want to.

And that's that. Quite possibly the most ridiculously cheesy post I have ever written and I am so, so okay with that. Thanks to the very few of you who actually read through this entire long ass thing. It means more to me than you could know.

A Trip to Missouri and We Only Got Shot Once

2009-08-01T15:18:00.041-06:00

You guys should be so proud of me. I went on a road trip and it only took me three weeks to write about it. That's got to be some kind of record. Here goes....

We packed the truck before the sun came up. Blankets, pillows, cooler, backpacks, and a million cds. We loaded the beast into the back, filled up with gas, and left the Rockies behind. The trip from my house to my parents' is about 13 hours. One time it took me 15 because I was moving a truck full of belongings. And one time it took me 9 hours because, well...I drove 110 miles an hour. This trip was moving right along schedule though. We hit our half way point near Salida, Kansas and then...the truck began to shake. Shawn was driving and said something about the strong Kansas winds. We pulled over for gas a few minutes later and I noticed that the strong Kansas winds had blown the air right out of our rear tire.

It was well over a hundred degrees without a cloud in sight. Shawn, my little mechanic in the making, changed the tire while Rosco and I talked about the meaning of life, the Broncos, and drooling. We have deep conversations like that.

After an hour of figuring out Nissan's super easy tire changing system (that if you are not aware of, becomes Nissan's super giant pain in my fuckin ass tire changing system) we were back on the road. I had stocked the cooler with cucumber and sea salt, peaches, salami, french bread, and cherries.

There were crackers and granola galore. This was the first road trip that did not involve fast food of any sort. Although there were still plenty of coffee and energy drink detours, but I mean, it is Kansas. That shit will put you to sleep in a heart beat if you aren't artificially causing that heart to beat a gazillion times per minute thanks to Monsters and espressos.

So we made it through the hell that is Kansas, left I70 in the dust, and headed into the oddness that is Missouri. Odd, you ask? Yes, odd. Now don't get mad. I'm not knocking Missouri for its incestual ways. Or even for its lack of dental hygiene. I'm not even bringing up the hillbilly southern accents (in a state that is no farther south than Colorado). They have their gun toting toothless rednecks who live in trailers cooking meth with their cousin/wives and that's just fine by me.

What strikes me as odd are the town names. Peculiar, Climax Springs, Success (I disagree), Competition, Pumpkin Center. Granted, most of these towns have less than 100 people living in them, but still..its just weird. I mean...

Who wants to be the Pumpkin Center sheriff? Or the Peculiar proctologist? Ok, you got me, there aren't proctologists in Peculiar. There are plenty of folks who will stick somethin up your ass for the simple price of a Bud Light, but none of them can spell proctologist so...

We made it through the endless Missouri towns, turned down a small street entering the woods, passed what my dad calls "Deliverance Road" and were soon at the rents' house. The next few days were spent relaxing. Lots of relaxing. It was so nice. My parents have an amazing house in the woods with an even more amazing deck. Their house is surrounded by trees that touch the sky and butterflies landing on your legs. There's a hammock in the yard that swings for days.
Mom has a feeder in the woods to feed corn and seeds to the deer. They come around every evening to eat while you sit on the deck watching.

If watching the deer eat isn't your cup of tea...the feeder has other entertainment values. It has a timer on it, and at the same time every day, it releases a ton of food onto the ground below. Squirrels eat the majority of the food, but they are greedy little bitches and they are determined to figure out how to get inside the feeder to the Mecca of corn. One squirrel was hanging upside down from the opening at the bottom of the feeder, trying to claw his way inside, when the timer went off, and about four pounds of corn came flying out into his face knocking his thieving ass into the ground. This sounds cruel, but don't worry, he got up and ran away just fine, but it was quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever seen happen to a squirrel.

Aside from watching squirrels get their asses kicked by Miss Karma, we also did a little Missouri site seeing. We went to the water park in Branson, checked out the lakes at the Ozarks, and saw fireworks with the soldiers. If you don't know me, fourth of July is my favorite holiday. I cry for the troops every year during the grand finale and sing dumb patriotic songs on the top of my shaky lungs. Its just my thing. My mom understands...

Shawn, maybe not so much...

One of the things we wanted to do while home was tour some caves. We went to the Meramec Caverns because they are notorious for being a crucial hideout for Jesse James and his gang.

If the signs outside were any indication, we were going to learn a lot about Jesse and his gang.

Ummm....perhaps if you go to this cave, and get a tour guide who has worked their longer than 6 days, you will indeed learn about Jesse James. Perhaps you will even learn about the cave. Stalagmites, mineral deposits...anything about the caves. Unfortunately for us, we got the new tour guide who chose to teach us absolutely nothing, but instead spent the better part of our hour and a half tour attempting to beat box. He was not good at this. He basically just spit a lot and repeatedly asked us if he was a great tour guide. Apparently he took my answer to be a joke. It was not.

Dad was not amused. If you do not know my dad, this face means "I am not currently amused".
I didn't learn a single thing about caves on the tour, but I did learn that Shawn and my Dad like to stand in similar positions.

I also learned that these cave thingies are called "hanging mushroom coral reefs".

Okay, I didn't really learn that. But if I were a tour guide who didn't know anything about the cave through which I was guiding people, I would make some shit up like that so I didn't look like a moron. I'm just sayin.

After leaving the shit-tastic caves, we went on an adventure to find our own caves. Shawn and Dad succeeded. Well sort of. It involved climbing and sweating and darkness. You'll have to ask them about that adventure though. I was too busy looking at turtles with Mom.

The last day of our trip was my birthday. I wanted to throw a kegger, but my mom said no...so instead, we went tubing. Dad stayed home because, well, floating down a river doesn't tickle his fancy. Mom, being the little adventure taker she is, was super excited to tube. She found a rafting company online that offers tubing trips for pretty cheap.

The place seemed....interesting. They had a nice little van to drive you to your drop off point in the river.
In case you can't read that....FDIC stands for Fun Down In the Country. And we were definately down in the country. The neighbors looked real nice.

I was afraid to inquire about the lonely school bus.
When we finally got all ready to go, we quickly realized that nice van and even that nice school bus, were not for us. No, we were put into the back of an old pick up truck and told to hold the floats down so they wouldn't blow away.

Mom's face pretty acurately describes the "what the fuck" going through my head.
He could have at least put the tailgate up.

At first it wasn't so bad, nice and slow, quite scenic.
Then he started going faster. Much, much faster. And the beautiful scenery turned into hillbilly tent town.

Luckily the drive was pretty short, and our driver even carried our tubes to the shore for us. For a hillbilly, he was pretty nice.
We got into our tubes and started heading down the river. Not two minutes into our trip, I happened to look over at Mom as something splashed in the water. A second later, pop, another splash. We all instantly knew. As I turned my tube around to look up the shore, I saw two kids sitting in rocking chairs.....shooting at us!
Shawn says they were pellet guns which is apparantly something like a bb gun. I don't know what the hell they were....they looked like rifles and two children were shooting us with them. Mom screamed something about calling the sheriff but they didn't stop. Pop, pop, pop....one shot after another until Shawn got off his tube and began chasing them. They weren't afraid of the sheriff but they were damn scared of Shawn.

Now, I know what you are thinking. A little pellet here and there won't kill anyone, but a pellet will definately pop a tube and we were two minutes into a four hour tubing trip in the middle of God knows where with no communication device and Fuck! We were getting shot at!! Trust me, it was scary!!!

It took a good twenty minutes for me to calm the hell down and stop looking frantically into the woods for the children of the corn to pop out and kill me. Once I finally got my breathing under control, I was actually able to sit back and enjoy the ride. I make fun of Missouri quite a bit, but one thing I can't argue with is its beauty. I mean, its no Rocky Mountains but damn its gorgeous.

We finished the four hour trip an hour early because Mom wouldn't stop paddling and we were afraid if we split up we'd get shot.We made it back safe and sound. Cleaned up, ordered pizza, and ate WAY too much of the most amazing birthday cake I have ever put in my mouth. Seriously rediculous. Oh and there were two of them. Oh yeah! If you are ever in central Missouri, call up Gretchen Barnes and have her make you a cake. She charges a fraction of what she should and they are just insane. So anyway...

The next morning, Shawn, Rosco, and I hopped back in the truck and headed home. I don't think I've ever been quite so sad to leave Missouri. The trip home was uneventful in terms of flat tires and hillbillies, but it was rich in terms of eye opening conversations. Thanks for going on a great trip with me babe. And thanks for not letting me get shot.

And if you don't know my mom already, you should go meet her. She's seriously one of the greatest people you will ever meet and she is always down for some fun. She will outlive us all, and have a blast doing it...guaranteed.
Love you Mom!! Umm...if somehow you have actually found this blog and are reading it right at this very moment....please disregard most of the other shit that I write. Because its all fake. I totally never smoked with Moses. I swear. Shit.

A Bit of Advice

2009-05-28T20:00:00.011-06:00

I think its time I used this blog to better the world. I need to put my selfish ways aside and help my fellow citizens make the right choices in their lives. So, from now on, I will be adding an occasional entry full of "worldly advice that will make you a more awesome person, and possibly keep you out of jail".

Today's advice:
If you move into a new home, and then go to a local liquor store for a bottle of wine, and the cashier gives you a free bottle of Crown Royal to welcome you to the neighborhood....say thank you and leave....and don't go back.

If you do happen to go back one night, a few weeks later, with your slightly intoxicated boyfriend, you could get into a sticky situation. It is possible that the same generous cashier will engage you in an angry conversation about the bastard that is 'Total Beverage' when you ask why he doesn't carry any wonderful local Colorado beer. He then may somehow convince you to help him turn off all of the neon signs in his store, teach you how to use his high tech register, and convince you to give him a ride to his home...which is a basement apartment half a block away. He may then tell you that his name is Moses and he is a convicted felon with six bachelor degrees. He may not explain why a man with six degrees is a liquor store cashier. Perhaps he will even invite you into his apartment for some herbal therapy, which you may agree to because the situation is so awkward that your and your boyfriend's curiosity simply gets the best of you. As you enter his apartment, he may explain that the two small children sleeping on the couch do not look remotely familiar. You may recall that he is a felon. A teenage girl checking her myspace on a computer might remind him that one child is his neice...and the other child is a mystery to her as well. He may invite you to his bedroom where you may smoke something from a certain device while Moses tells you that the country is owned by a bank which may be owned by aliens. He might even introduce you to his wife....Sugar. She might not appreciate your laughter when you learn that her name is Sugar. She may inform you that she was given that name at birth but now prefers to go as "Shug Dizzle Izzle". She may not appreciate when your drunk, stoned boyfriend quickly responds with "for shizzle my nizzle". You might feel the need to leave at this point. It may be a good idea. You will probably not be able to stop laughing or calling your boyfriend "Shug" for at least three days. You will both agree that you are far too old to ever again engage in such activities. You will also probably have a heightened level of love and appreciation for your boyfriend for experiencing such a night with you...and later regretting such a night.
Probably. Maybe. Perhaps.

Rosco's New Hat

2009-05-16T16:38:00.015-06:00

Its almost summer...the sun is shining...the economy is crumbling...rich people are starting to get nervous. Do you know what all of this means? Garage sales baby! I got up early today and headed to the richest, trendiest neighborhoods in Denver and I scored a few good deals.

I picked up these four prints for $2.00. Afterword, I headed to Hobby Lobby for frames. These ones were $12.00 a piece but it was 50% off day...so the whole project totalled $26.00. My hallway is no longer sad and lonely.

This print is about 13" by 16" and was fifty cents. The frame cost $10. Its in our bedroom until Shawn gets home and reminds me that I don't live alone and butterflies cross the "is this too girly?" line...but its soooo pretty.

This purse was $2.00. It is brand new and adorable. When I got it home I realized its from Saks Fifth Avenue. I don't shop there, because I'm poor, so I don't know exactly how much it would cost but I think its more than $2.00.

These little dishes were a dollar a piece.

My first thought was to use them for jewelry. They are the perfect size for organizing rings.

But when I bought them, the previous owner explained that they are for food, such as relish. I didn't know they made dishes for relish. The thought of these little dishes being so versatile got my creative juices flowing.

Perhaps they could hold hair clips.

Maybe used as a hat?

Even a fruit display..er.

Rosco has requested that I stick to my original idea. He's a smart boy.

Now, these baskets don't technically qualify as "garage sale finds" but I got a good deal. I found them at Hobby Lobby when I was looking for frames and they were just over $2 a piece.

So that was it for today. I didn't actually make it to too many sales. Quality vs. Quantity people. Next week, I will be dragging my sister along, so the pictures might be a little more entertaining.
Before I go...I wanted to update everyone on my herb garden. My lil buds done sprouted y'all.

Well, most of them. The oregano and thyme are on their own little timeline apparently. Ass holes.

Also, this little fucker sprouted up in the middle of my chives. The pictures are from my phone so I couldn't get a very clear shot, but its definitely not a chive. The leaves don't look familiar, but there is definitely some sort of nug....I showed Shawn and he thinks we should just smoke it. I'll let you know how that turns out.

When I was loading the pictures of my plants, I found this pic from last week in Boulder. Anyone have any clue what kind of dog this is? Aside from Horseadoodle. I want one. And I want to ride it to work.

Peace out bitches.

Happy Momma Day

2009-05-14T15:13:00.013-06:00

So last weekend, my sister and I attempted to be good daughters and surprise our mom for Mother's Day. We started making plans a few months ago and everything seemed to be going smoothly. We should have known better.

Our plane tickets were coming courtesy of Frontier Airlines. They have a deal set up with the restaurant I work at that allows me to get standby tickets for pretty cheap.

I've used these tickets in the past and haven't had any serious problems...except for that one time I went to Mexico and almost didn't come home...and then ended up in the hospital. But that is an entirely different blog. Considering the wonderful internets were saying that our flight had plenty of seats available, we weren't too worried about our standby status. Unfortunately by the time we got to the airport, our 7 pm flight was sold out and we were bumped to a flight at 6 oclock the next morning. For some reason, we thought it would be better to forget our flight to St Louis and go to Kansas City instead. We switched our rental car reservation to our new destination and headed to Kansas. The plane ride was...interesting. I don't know which part was actually the worst. I'd say its a three way tie between the drunk pilot, the ridiculous man in front of us yelling about alien investors funding 9-11, or the off duty pilot sitting behind me repeatedly telling his wife that the plane shouldn't be making those noises unless its about to crash.

When we finally landed in the wonderful Kansas City, we were informed that not only did our rental car reservation vanish, but so did all of the available cars. We had to switch to a new company, pay about double our quoted rate, but we finally got a car. After getting lost in Kansas City, a quick stop at Walmart to buy Mother's Day flowers, and a midnight trip to Wendy's, we were finally began our 4 hour trip to the rents' house. At about 1 in the morning, I started getting really tired and worried that I might have to pull over for a nap. About the time I told my plan to Casey, the universes aligned and did what they felt necessary to wake me up. Perhaps it was the full moon. Perhaps it was the thick forest. Perhaps it was the fact that Missouri is a scary ass place full of critters with a death wish....whatever it was, I quickly woke up when I realized there were thousands of animals waiting to be hit by our car. In the 4 hours it took to drive home, we passed at least 50 deer, dozens of opossums, about 6 skunks, 3 armadillos, and a few rabid dogs.

Somehow, we managed to stay awake, not hit any creatures on the road, and made it to the house just after 5 in the morning. Casey and I grabbed the balloons and flowers, smacked a couple bows on our heads, and creeped up the driveway.

Mom came out on the porch and screamed, cried, screamed some more, cried a lot more, and was generally pretty damn happy. Dad came out and there were a few congratulatory high fives for pulling off a completely secret trip without Mom having even a clue.

We spent Saturday just hanging out with our parents, went to the Ozarks for dinner, played some cards (which Casey and I dominate at of course) and enjoyed our short trip. Unfortunately, Sundays flights were even more booked than Fridays. We were pretty much guaranteed to never get back to Denver if we relied on our standby tickets. Mom and Dad ended up buying us tickets through United to get us home Sunday afternoon. In the end, our cheap plan to get to Missouri and back, ended up costing our parents around $600. For some unknown reason, they seemed to think Casey and I visiting for one day was worth that much. I think they are crazy. The trip home wasn't as eventful as the trip there. We drove back to Kansas City midday Sunday so there weren't as many animals darting in front of our car. Oh except for this horse.

He hung out in the middle of the road for a while until a man with overalls and no teeth came out yelling something about mangy horse glue. The horse listened to our advice and ran away as fast as possible.

We got to the airport two hours early as advised by every travel advisor in the world. Unfortunately these advisers have never been to Kansas City International Airport. I work at Denver International Airport, so perhaps I'm a bit spoiled when it comes to expectations when traveling. I am used to, well, people at the airport...security at the airport...running water at the airport. Ok, maybe Kansas has running water but...

Denver International:

Kansas City International:

We definitely didn't need two hours. Five minutes was plenty to get to our gate.

The airport may not have many passengers, but they do have a gift shop.

I didn't buy anything.

I have a feeling this man would have liked that shirt though. Twilight anyone?

We made it home, safe and sound. Mom loves us, and more importantly knows that we love her. And I have no desire to ever visit Kansas City again. Happy Mother's Day Mom. Sorry, Dad, Father's Day won't be this exciting. I may buy you a golf club though.

Dear Ridiculous Woman Walking Her Ugly Dog,

2009-04-30T15:30:00.009-06:00

Please don't give me dirty looks when I walk by you. My dog and I were simply trying to enjoy the sunshine on our little walk. You saw us a half a mile away. You stopped walking, turned around, and watched us coming toward you and that tangled rat you call a dog.

You refused to move. For absolutely no reason, you chose to discontinue your walk, stand right there in the middle of the trail and wait the ten minutes it took us to catch up to you. You had a horrified look in your eye. You saw my beast walking toward you and you were petrified but you did not move. I could tell five hundred feet away that you were convinced he was going to attack you. You saw his razor sharp teeth, and you waited for them!

You glared at me as we approached. You pulled your dogs leash, called him closer, and never broke eye contact with my ferocious killer. The closer you got, the more your hands trembled, the bigger the sweat drops on your forehead.

As we passed you, you mumbled something in a shaky voice and glared at me with lasers shooting out your eyes. My dog eyeing yours. Your dog smelling his own ass.

I completely understand if you are afraid of large dogs, sharp teeth, being eaten alive. I understand that not everyone will find my dog cute and cuddly. I also understand that if you had half a brain, you would not stand and wait for the creature of your nightmares to approach you. You chose to stand there and wait TEN MINUTES for us to catch up to you and then you had the nerve to give ME dirty looks!?!? My dog is fairly well behaved and honestly couldn't have cared less about you. He was slightly intrigued by your dog, but he also finds piles of shit quite entertaining, so I wouldn't be too proud of your pooch. He didn't, however, try to eat your face. So get over it. You have every right to dislike my dog's breed, or hair length, or drool. But if you are not fond of him, please don't stand there and wait for us, only to give me the death stare....just keep walkin!

Sincerely,
The lady who's dog is much much more handsome

Disclaimer.... None of the photographs used in this blog actually depict my dog, or the other dog in said situation. After many failed attempts to get Rosco to make a "fierce" face to the camera, I decided it was best to use stunt doubles for dramatic effect. He does not really look like a bear or a monster. In the future, I will leave the "fierceness" to Tyra.

Rosco wants you all to know that he is in fact a very sweet, very mellow young man who has never once in his life shown his teeth to anyone but the dentist. He's also wishing that his mom would quit blogging. Right now.

Dr. 80260

2009-04-30T09:59:00.004-06:00

Yesterday, Shawn and I went to the Salvation Army for 50% off day. (which is the best day ever, by the way) We were pretty disappointed in the selection though. In the past, this particular store has been quite promising when it comes to amazing deals. If you don't believe me, ask the $3000 armoir holding my television...that cost me $108. Yesterday, however, was not as impressive. There were no designer clothes, no high end night stands, no diamonds in coat pockets. Very sad. There were however some interesting shirts. Now, let me just preface by saying, I absolutely loath people who wear those cheesy hats and leather jackets that display which outrageous gas guzzling sports car they drive. The girls that stroll through the airport with their pastel pink Ferrari caps make me want to puke. But, I understand that they feel their car is a status symbol, and they are trying to let everyone, who may not be lucky enough to see them pull into valet, know that they are rich. Tacky, yes, but I suppose it serves their purpose.

I don't, however, understand these declarations...

I don't know if you can tell by the low quality photos here, but these shirts were quite worn. I'm so confused.

While I was photographing ridiculous bedazzling, Shawn was off making a discovery of his own.

He now lives in our home. Shawn couldn't be happier.

Deo for his BO

2009-04-23T13:06:00.007-06:00

So, my dog is kinda stinky. Not like over the top, smellin like poop, nasty ass dog smell. Just like a slight hint of dry mud. I suppose dry mud is actually just dirt. But if I said he smelled like dirt, you might think he smells like potting soil or something, and I don't want you to be confused and think my dog smells like he's been sprayed with fertilizer....because he doesn't. He just smells like he went for a stroll through a field that was comprised mostly of a substance that was once mud.

Now, I know what you are thinking. "Give him a bath!" But its not that easy. My little puppy weighs a hundred pounds. He knows this. He also knows that he is stronger, and sometimes smarter than myself. Further more, he knows that in order for me to give him a bath, I need his cooperation. And this dog is not a fan of taking a bath. Its nearly impossible for me to pick him up and put him in the tub. When I try, he wiggles and squirms his way out of my arms. If I get a good grip and he can't break free, he begins to scream. "A dog screaming?", you say?? Yes, screaming. A full on, high pitched, someone just hit this woman in the face with a pot of boiling water, screaming. I try to block it out and continue the battle. I try to hurry and get his big ass into the tub before the neighbors call the police in an attempt to save the poor woman being slaughtered in the bathroom. On the rare occasion that I actually win the fight and get him in the bathtub, he completely submits. We will have the fight of all fights inches away from the edge of the tub, but once he's in the tub, he totally chills out and says "Shit this ain't so bad! Bring on the bubbles." (I apologize for my dog's poor grammar. He does it to rebel.) After his bath, he parades around the house, showing everyone just how amazingly beautiful he is and how wonderful he smells.

Now, as hard and stressful and ridiculous and tear inducing the entire bathing process is...it is much worse when Rosco decides to be an obnoxious smart ass. The day after I went through the awfully painful process of giving this man a bath, he decides to remind me that the pain was all his doing. He reminded me that bathing him would be simple as pie if it weren't for him and his immense strength and power. He likes to rub it in my face that he controls the show. "How does he possibly do this?", you ask? By entering the bathroom while I put on my makeup, walking right past me, and calmly climbing into the tub. He turns around to face me, stares me down for a few moments while wagging his tail, and then hops out of the tub and exits the room. Like "Bitch please, I take baths when I want to take baths. Period."

So, if you come over, and pet my dog, and a small dust cloud floats off his back, please don't judge. Sympathise. Understand. Appreciate the pain I go through. And if you still think he smells, please, please take that ass hole to your house and give him a bath. Please.

Blue Nips

2009-04-21T00:36:00.012-06:00

About a month ago, I heard that the Virgin records store downtown is going out of business and will soon be closing their doors. Shawn and I headed over immediately to buy cds for a nickle, t-shirts for a piece of gum....you know, typical sales when a store goes out of business. When we got there, we quickly realized that stores won't actually trade a t-shirt for a piece of gum. Well, at least Virgin records won't. Instead, they had a small bin of cds near the door listed for the low, low price of ten dollars. Everything else was just as overpriced and annoying as always. Honestly, you couldn't even tell the store would be closing anytime soon....until you walked to the very, very back. There, behind the rack of cheesy rockstar messenger bags and spikey metal wristbands, was a graveyard of manequins. Row after row of jutting collar bones and oddly missing penises.

And leading these naked torsos, were two lovely ladies, who appeared to be quite smitten with one another. Judging by her blue nipple, I would guess one of these ladies might not be a Virgin manequin afterall. I'd be willing to bet there's a Hot Topic in the Denver area missing this lass.

I just thought I would let you know that the closing of this store will most likely not benefit your music collection. It may, however, get you a good deal on some naked folks.

Life

2009-04-16T15:51:00.016-06:00

It's an unusually cloudy, rainy day in Denver. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a huge fan of the Colorado sunshine, but occasionally, even I need a gloomy day to crank up the heat and snuggle under a blanket. I've already checked all my daily sites, filled up on news, gossip, and blogs. I've watched four episodes of Cash Cab, in which I learned that Geraldo has a hand tattoo, and went to Pho for some hot chicken and noodle soup happiness. Now, I'm back under the blanket, with nothing to do but brag about my latest creation. I went to Walmart the other day (I know, it only happens like twice a year and I prayed before and after) and found the cutest indoor herb garden kits. I was totally skeptical as to whether or not they would actually produce plants, but honestly, the little pots were so cute that I didn't care. And they were on sale for $8.00 so I bought two.

The packaging stated that the soil and seeds were included, but the containers felt pretty empty so I assumed they were just joking. I really thought they were joking, when I opened the package and saw these small brown hockey pucks described as "soil".

I followed the instructions......added water....

and more water....

fluffed with a fork... (and if you were wondering, yes, that is the fork I stole from Toby Keith)

and holy shit! It actually turned into soil. I don't have a clue how it worked, but those little pucks of umm whatever they were...grew before my eyes into a full pot of fluffy soil!!!

I put the little seeds in and covered the pots with saran wrap as instructed and placed them in the window sills in the guest room. Two days later, I was convinced that the saran wrap was not creating a greenhouse for my little herbs, but was instead just growing mold, so I took it off. The very next day I realized the little purple fuzzy specs of mold were actually plants!! Look at those little bitches!!!

Yeah that's right. I gots basil. And I even have three tiny little chive sprouts, although they were too small to photograph with my iphone. I am so oddly excited about this. I went to Walmart, poured water on a hockey puck, and will soon have enough herbs to season the neighborhood...or at least my pasta sauce. That's just crazy. I have a new appreciation for life. God help my future children and their first poops. And God help you dear readers because you know I will be posting pictures of that shit online.

I need more vitamin c

2009-02-27T20:42:00.004-07:00

Have you seen the commercial for that cold/flu medicine with vitamin c? There's a lady in her office all sniffly and sneezy and her coworkers are talking smack about how she's addicted to vitamin c and won't take conventional medicine because the good ole c is far superior. So they trick her into taking their medicine because it says 'vitamin c' on the box. I hate that commercial. Don't those bitches know that there was once a time when Dayquil didn't exist and your only hope of beating your cold is chowing down on every orange in sight? Yeah, so maybe back in those days it was a bit more common for folks to straight up die from a wee little cough, but whatever. Some people can't take cold/flu medicine. Some people made bad choices in high school, took a few too many dayquils, got really high, blurred their vision for three days and forgot their own name, and now their bodies freak the hell out when a gel cap comes into the room. Some people might take a cold pill and end up violently shaking, throwing up, and spewing obscenities to the heavens. So maybe those bitches shouldn't talk shit about oranges because maybe, just maybe, that's some peoples' only hope, ok!? Back off my 'c' bitch. Yeah, I'm stuffy and achy and cranky and sneezy. Yeah I feel like a dump truck is doing donuts in my skull. But you can't trick me with your cleverly disguised medicine. I know whats really in that box. That's no vitamin c mister. Now, if someone feels like doing a good deed, please go buy me some oranges because I am all out and I think its effecting my thought process.

So I get some awesome tax breaks this year...

2009-02-26T18:06:00.009-07:00

Yes, thats right, I am officially a home owner. Well, Shawn and I are home owners. After many battles, many contracts, and many sleepless nights, we stumbled upon a condo that we couldn't walk away from. We originally wanted an old house overflowing with character and squeeky hard wood floors, but finally realized we couldn't afford to make those homes liveable. Some day we will have our bungalow, but until then, we have an awesome new pad that fits us perfectly. Its only a few years old so it didn't require much more than some paint. Let me rephrase...it didn't require much more than lots and lots and lots of paint. I still have one room left, but considering that its the guest room and the only ones looking at the wall color are the turtles, I'm putting that job off to another day...or month. I still have some more unpacking to do, some more decorating to tackle, and a dining room table to purchase, but for the most part, it is coming together quite nicely. I took a bunch of beautiful pictures but cannot seem to find the cable to connect my camera to my computer...so until I do, I only have a few camera phone shots of our gorgeously bright bedroom, my wall of jewelry, and the blinds that I almost threw out the window while installing. Enjoy.

I've missed you

2008-10-28T17:38:00.005-06:00

Damn, I completely suck at this whole blog business. I get all excited about it and then I forget it exists. I hope when I have children, I will be better than I am now. Because otherwise there is a chance those diapers will go months without changing and I will totally get hauled off by the bad parenting police. Eek. Ok, I suppose those diapers will smell really bad and that will be a reminder that I have children and then I won't forget them like I did about this blog. We can hope.

So, since we last talked, I've made some big moves. We put an offer in on a house last night. The house is adorable. Built in 1930 and full of 30's charm. Hardwood floors, giant base boards, shady electricity, beautiful mature landscaping and possibly no plumbing. We have so much to look forward to. Just for future reference, if this deal goes through, this blog will become a "what not to do when attempting to remodel a home" blog. I will most definately be posting pictures of holes in walls, failed attempts at drywalling, possible fires, and my cheeks drenched in tears. I mean, you, as a reader, have so much to look forward to. In the meantime, here is a picture to hold you over....

In case you were wondering, I too think the house may be leaning to the left. But I think its intentional. It does the Roc-a-way....lean back....lean back. Don't hate on my house. :(

Angry Beavers and Coors Light

2008-08-01T19:29:00.029-06:00

Last night, the boy and I made a trip to the Adam's County Fair. Growing up in Germany, I have high hopes for a fair. I imagine great beer, juicy brats, loud music, beautiful soldiers, and scary rides. Apparently, stateside festivals are a little different. They attract a type of person that I did not think resided in Colorado. I was wrong. So very wrong. I learned a lot about people, culture, and farm animals yesterday and I'd like to share this awakening with you.

We got to the fairgrounds around 4:30, which it seems was far too early. The rides were not running, the games were not playing, and the food was just hitting the grill.

We wandered around for a bit, got some bbq on a stick and crappy beer, and talked to a vendor about how my moisturizer is giving me cancer. After that enlightening conversation, we discovered the farmer's mecca at the fair. There were giant tents filled with animals, and people hustling about everywhere. After a few confused moments, we realized these animals were engaging in some sort of beauty contests.

The first animal I met was this horse. I took his picture because he reminded me of Matthew McConaughey.

Next, I discovered Olivia Newton John's fan club. I'm still not sure why these sheep were wearing spandex, but it was entertaining.

They weren't getting physical, physical...but they were looking fly and that's all that mattered.

Next, I met a pig who's either narcoleptic, or a lush. Or perhaps both.

About two minutes after taking that last picture, I was attacked by his cousin. Okay, maybe attacked is a slight exaggeration, but there was a large pig, running in my direction, and a boy chasing it with a stick. It was traumatizing.

Next, we moved on to the "Small caged animals" pageant. There were quite a few interesting rabbits. Did you even know there were multiple kinds of rabbits? There are actually rabbits who are small, and not just because they are babies, and there are also rabbits that are almost as big as my dog. Well, maybe as big as your dog.

This rabbit used his double chin as a pillow, which I thought was genius.

This bunny's hair was so crazy that you couldn't even find his face. Unless that's his butt. I'm pretty sure its his face.

This one was just cool.

He was for sale. I considered bringing him home, but then I remembered that rabbits eat your face while you sleep. So I changed my mind.

Next, I learned that if you kneel down and attempt to take a picture of a caged turkey, he instantly think you are going to pluck all his feathers out, stuff an onion up his butt, and throw him in the oven. This turkey was trying to make this process easier by fluffing himself up to make his feathers more accessible for the plucking. That was nice of him. Then he tried to bite my face.

It was about this time that I realized there was poo on my shoe. That's when we headed to the Monster Truck show. At the Miss Adam's County Piggy show, there were lots of wranglers, big belt buckles, and cowboy boots. At the monster truck show, there were many tank tops, receding hair lines, and not so many teeth. There was however this rebellious little girl who seemed to like beaded bracelets. The boy made jokes about raving skanks and Ecstasy. Who knows. Oh, there were also trucks. Big ones. Monsters, if you will.

After the show, I ran into this guy, twice. I took the second encounter as fate, and a reason to take his picture.

Before we went home, the boy won a prize for me...well more for our dog.

He was quite proud. He informed me that the stuffed animal was from the show "Angry Beavers". I made the angry beaver ride a tractor.

When we got home, Rosco was quite please with his beaver. Then he ripped its nose off and spilled his insides all over my living room. The angry beaver made me angry, so he now lives in the dumpster.

Well, that was my night. I learned a lot about animals, and poo, and trucks, and overalls. I learned that the boy likes to tell baby cows about his love of veal. I don't think he even eats veal, he just likes to tell stories to animals. And I learned that its perfectly ok to go to the fair in overalls and no shirt. G'night.

I fought the law...and the beer won.

2008-07-26T14:12:00.012-06:00

So if you know me at all, you probably know that I have a ghetto entrepreneurial urge living inside me. More often than not, this leaves me broke and disappointed. Today, it leaves me drunk at a bar.

So I did a little research and discovered that Colorado, as a state, has no scalping laws. Within about four minutes of this discovery, I owed ticketmaster around a thousand dollars. I bought the maximum allowed tickets to the shows I was sure would sell out. My first venture was for a band I'd never heard, but after a little research I discovered are quite popular with the tweens. Little did I know that grown men would sell a testicle to get their daughters a ticket to see these Jonas boys. I still have my doubts about their supposed sibling..ry. Crazy marketing if you ask me. So anyway, those boys bought me a tank of gas which I was very grateful for. And they also convinced me that I could make more than just gas money in this business.

However, I quickly learned that there is a reason the guys selling tickets on the corner always have holes in their shirts. Being a professional ticket scalper ain't no easy task. Long story short, if a show doesn't sell out, and instead decides to drop ticket prices by ten dollars, you end up alone, broke, and drunk at CB&Potts. It's a sad life. Thank god my iPhone has typing correction. If it weren't for that, this blog would look more like this...

Jffokxwnbshducnsbgajbvsumxnjao.

That's right bitches, be grateful.

Update...

I just logged in to see what sort of mess I'd typed up yesterday, and its a bit of a doozy. I arrived at the concert three hours before my boyfriend, and (after selling my extra tickets for a painfully low price) instead of waiting outside in the heat, I chose to go to a bar. Seemed like a good idea at the time...

Also, thank you to the 14 year old boys who bought my tickets, you saved me some tears.

And for anyone that may be curious...Both the Flobots and Offspring rocked the fuckin house. Go see them. Twice. (Just don't ask me for tickets, cause I won't be buying extras)

Crisp and fresh

2008-07-22T22:38:00.004-06:00

Every once in a while, I look around my apartment and realize I'm completely bored with it. When I moved in, it was beautiful and open and exciting. I loved knowing where everything was and knowing that everything was mine. I could walk from one end to the other in pitch black and know exactly when to dodge the table leg, when to step over the dog toys, and when to avoid the stray shoe by the door. I liked the comfort that this brought. But I think, with everything, you need to switch it up now and then to keep that appreciation. Once in a while, you need to stub your toe on the couch.

And so, I have a new blog. Its been brought to my attention, by a few, that my blog has been missing the fierceness it once had. It seems to correlate with my view on life. The more bitter I am at the world, the more creative my silly little posts would be. Now, I'm not willing to trade my happiness for the sake of a good post, but I am willing to try a new approach. Maybe, my old blog bred bitterness. After all, that's what it was born into. It only makes since, that as my attitude changes, my environment will need tweaking as well. So here is my fresh start. I can only promise that I will give it attention, care, and effort. I will be honest and genuine. And, as always, I will not censor myself or my opinions. Feel free to enjoy and stub your toe.