Remember When We Used to Get Drunk Together?

   
Yeah, me neither. But damn! Those hangovers were a bitch, weren't they?

On my way home from work today I was thinking hard about potential blog posts. Usually driving is a great time for me to brainstorm, but lately? Not so much. I've got nothing. Nothing at all. In fact, It's time to take an official hiatus.

So... I'm officially taking a break. I realize I've been on a break for awhile now, but at least by making it "official" I'll no longer feel guilty about not posting. I'm too distracted by all the great things happening in my life right now to give this blog proper attention.

(Yes, this is my actual baby-to-be. Yes, baby-to-be is a girl.)

Do I intend on returning? Who knows? I've got some events and get togethers and time off coming up in the near future, so... maybe. In the meantime, you can still find me writing about the "joys" of teaching art to snot-nosed brats at Art Teachers Hate Glitter, or you can find me and all my new found gushy soft spots for pretty girly things at The Bittersweet Blonde (If you're the kind of person who's interested in baby updates and style and design, this is the place for you). 

'Till next time! Or not.

I (finally) explain myself. Or something like that.

    

You may find yourself making a trip to the grocery store for butter and sour cream.

And you may find yourself purchasing pickles as well.

And you may find yourself also buying chocolate chip cookies.

You may find yourself in the candy aisle, with a bag of Starbursts in your hand.

You may ask yourself, "Well, how did I get here?"*

And your answer to the above question will probably be one of the following:

1. "I'm stoned, again."
2. "I'm shopping while hungry, again."
3. "I'm shopping while pregnant, again." -or-
4. "I'm shopping while frustrated with work, again."

If you're like me though, your answer to the above question will be

5. All of the above except for #1 (that sort of thing is generally frowned upon while being #3).

Yup, that's right folks, you read that correctly. I... am... (drum-roll please) HUNGRY! Oh, and I'm pregnant too. Thought I should just throw that out there. It's already "Facebook official," so might as well tell the rest of the world. Here, I'll even share my "making it Facebook official" photo with you:

(Well, technically I am, but by default the G-man is too. Or something like that.)

So, that's been my deal for the past so-and-so many weeks/months. Which is another way of saying I totally blame the person growing inside of me for why I haven't blogged in forever. This being pregnant shit can be rough. But I survived the milestones of the first trimester and am now honeymooning in the second. I didn't realize how bad I was feeling during the first three months until I started feeling good again. Like my stepfather always says, "The best part about pain is when it's over." Amen.

In case you're wondering, "Oh hey, OBG, if you're feeling so great now, how come you're still not back to blogging regularly?" Well, now it seems, despite my return of energy and easing up of nausea, I'm suffering from frequent migraines, and if you know anything about migraines, they make looking at a computer screen feel like there are shards of broken glass being driven through your eyeballs.

(You aren't really affected by this, but I had to share that I needed to take two days off from this post in order to nurse a migraine. I'm back now. Again, I doubt you even noticed.)

You're probably wondering,  "What does this all mean", right? Well, it means my life is in the process of changing significantly, and therefore so will my blog. In fact, I think I touched upon that once or twice before. Don't panic yet though. I have no intention of becoming a "Mommy blogger," not that there's anything wrong with that. There are plenty of Mommy and Daddy bloggers out there that I enjoy and who do a pretty damn good job of writing some pretty gosh darn entertaining shit. I would be lying though if I didn't admit that being a brand new shiny mommy (or mommy-to-be) won't seep it's way into this blog. I'm sure it will. I'll try to keep it to a minimum though.

In the meantime, while I'm still trying (and can find the time) to sort out the direction of this blog, let me answer some FAQs before you ask them. When I'm finished, if you still have questions, you may find the comment section to be a suitable place to ask (that's the teacher in me speaking right there).

OBG Prego FAQs (in no particular order)

When are you due?
In August. About mid-August. August 19th, to be more specific. If you're not any good at pregnancy math (and who is?), that puts me at 15 weeks.

What are you having?
Um, I'm not well learned in the matters of biology, but I'm pretty sure we'll be having a baby. Oh, you meant what is the sex of the baby? Don't know yet. Ask me again in about a month, and if I'm in a good mood, I might decide to tell you. Or not.

Will you and the G-Man be getting married?
Geez folks! We've only been together for 10 years. We should probably give it some time to see if we even like each other before we rush into any hasty decisions like marriage.

How are you feeling?
Like there's a human being growing inside of me, and I no longer have control of my body.
Like there's a massive water balloon that has taken up residency in my gut.
But otherwise, not bad. My back's starting to hurt, and I get horrendous headaches, and I have horrible... Oh. You were just asking to be polite? You didn't really want a list of my woes? No problem. I feel great! Thanks for asking!

Do you have any cravings?
Fruit and candy. And pickles, but that's nothing new.

Will you be returning to work after wards?
Uh, yeah! Did you not read this post? Although, I'll admit, I have fantasized about being a SAHM (look! I know the lingo already!) for at least the first six months, while embarking on some creative endeavor that would allow me to do so and still bring in some dough. But I'm realistic. I'll have to go back to work.

Can we see pictures?
Um... if you're family and/or close friends you can. I'm not sure how I feel yet about posting prego pics of me on the internet yet.

But what if we promise not to laugh?
Fine. I'll give you one picture:

(The dreaded "pregnancy mask")**

Alright, well that's enough with FAQs. And that's enough from me. I've got big important stuff to do. Or something like that. 

Wait! One more thing. If you're so inclined, pop back and reread my New Year's Resolutions. I promise you you'll see them in a whole new light.

* Swiped from Talking Heads.

** FYI this was at 13 weeks. There's a bump there, but mostly this will serve as a basis for comparison for all the future bump pictures I'll be taking for close friends and family.

One Blonde Girl 101

When I started this blog, it began as a place for me to reflect on "my journey through life". At the time, I was at a much different place in life (read: happier). My blog was not meant to be humorous nor was it meant to be bitter nor was it meant to be what it has become. It has since evolved into what you see before you. A place for me to rant and rave, bitch and moan, tell funny (hopefully) stories and bond with other bloggers about the woes of life. 

One such blogger is The Naked Writer over at The Writing Womb. I find her ability to be open and honest with the world about the trials and tribulations of her life admirable. She recently wrote a post, The Naked Writer 101, which was both informative and inspiring. Influenced by her frankness, and her "utter disregard for couthness" (yeah, I quoted myself. What of it?) I present to you...

One Blonde Girl 101

       

Because what's a post without a pic? And yes, that is me. (Source)

1. I love pickles. The tangier the better. I love pickles so much that if you leave a pickle on your plate unaccompanied, I will totally eat it on you and then pretend I have no idea what happened to it. True story. Your pickles are not safe with me.

2. I buy clothes with pockets because I never know what to do with my arms in social situations. Pockets are safe and comforting. In a perfect world, every article of clothing would have pockets.

3. When I was in high school I hated being blonde and wanted to dye my hair black but then a friend of mine told me that if I did, my hair would be black permanently, and that scared me, so I didn't.

4. I once hit a flock of birds with my mom's car and killed at least three of them. I've also caused the deaths of a bat and a cat via vehicular manslaughter.

5. I'm a night owl. I'm most productive and energetic after 7 pm. Some nights it will last until 4 am. This makes it very hard for me to be productive in the real world.

6. I function the best on 6 hours of sleep. Any more or less and I'm useless.

7. I dream of being a tattoo artist. Unfortunately, I have a thing against needles.

8. I can't stand to watch any scene in a movie that involves cutting a person. Any other kind of violence is fine, but not cutting.

9. I love horror movies. Especially haunted house and zombie movies. I hate Sci-Fi though. Hate it.

10. I'm constantly changing my mind. Which probably explains why my blog goes through so many transformations. And why I can't decide what to call myself. "April"? "One Pea"? "One Blonde Girl"?

11. I'm not a cat person. There. I said it. I don't like cats. I'll take a dog over a cat any day. The bigger, the better. (I once had a cat that I loved with all my heart. He had six toes on each foot and the funniest looking face. But then he up and died. One minute he was frolicking outside, and the next, he was dead. I don't think I ever got over that.)

12. I've never (knowingly) been involved with or pursued a guy who was already in a relationship. That's the biggest no-no ever. In my opinion. In fact, discovering that a guy was already involved was an instant turn-off for me. He could have been my soul mate and looked like Clive Owen, but as soon as I found out he was married or had a girlfriend, he turned into Steve Buscemi.

13. I've never had stitches. Thank god, because I don't know how I could handle that (see #7).

14. The first time (and unfortunately, not the last) I ever felt violated by a boy was in the first grade when a classmate who liked to look up the girls' skirts hugged me during nap time. It took me many years to get over that.

15. I've never finished a piece of art work. Never. Ever. It's a mental thing. I just can't do it.

16. I'm envious of people who have close relationships with their parents. I don't.

17. I don't do makeup. Possibly because no one ever showed me how. Or possibly because I can think of better, more important things to spend money on.

18. My knees are always hairy. Always. I can't seem to figure out how to work a razor around the knobbiness of my knees.

19. The most traumatic years of my life seem to end with 5s.
1985- I started Kindergarten and hated it and my teacher so much. I cried and cried and cried. The only way they could get me to go peacefully was bribing me with reading time with the other Kindergarten teacher.
1995- Well, in a nutshell, it began with the development of an eating disorder and accumulated with my dad booting me from his house. And a little bit of everything else thrown in for good measure.
2005- Well, I'm not quite ready to talk about this time of my life yet.
Needless to say, I dread 2015.

20. I have a twin sister.

21. I hate Lima beans. Hate 'em.

22. I hate housework. If I ever have a house (and a job), I'm totally hiring a housekeeper. I don't care. I'm doing it.

23. I don't watch ANTM on a regular basis, but anytime there's a marathon on, I'm glued to the TV.

24. I can't really pin down what makes me happy. Not specifically, but when I am happy, you'll know instantly because I make up little songs and dances and I spin.

25. I can't remember the last time in my life I was really, truly happy with my life.

26. I'm a really good multitasker, except when it comes to the big things, like education and relationships and career, then I have to choose one to focus on.

27. Most of the decisions I've made in my life were based on what other people wanted, not what I wanted myself. It's made for a very miserable life, but I'm working on living life for me now.

28. I live in constant fear of settling.

29. I don't trust words. I trust actions.

30. My favorite life advice comes from Magic Hat beer caps.

31.  I can't figure out if I'm more afraid of succeeding or of failing. I pick the middle road by not even trying.

32. My dad used to be the captain of a cargo ship. I was a world traveler until about age 8.

33. My dad's family owns a button factory in Iowa and were innovators in the pearl button industry. I think that's awesome.

34. I hate shopping. Any kind of shopping. Hate it.

35. I love helping people and making their lives easier. It makes me feel good, productive and accomplished.

36. My first real boyfriend was abusive and cheated on me frequently. That was the first and the last time I ever allowed a guy to treat me that way.

37. I love my feet, my knees, my hips, and my collar bones. Basically all the bony parts of my body.

38. Mind-altering substances scare me a little. Not that I'm afraid of their effects, but that I would enjoy them too much and would end up on an episode of Intervention.

39. I hate stuff. I don't understand why people insist on having so much stuff. Every time I move I purge more and more useless stuff and it makes me feel so good.

40. I feel guilty over my grandfather's death. It's totally irrational and illogical, but I often wonder if he would have still fallen down the stairs if I had chosen not to move away.

41. I don't know how to want things. In my mind, wanting something is wrong and a sign of weakness. I can't explain this. Well, I can, but we don't have the time to get into it.

42. I have to have a million and one things going on at once in order to not be bored.

43. I love strawberries.

44. I love music.

45. I love driving a stick shift. It makes me feel strong and powerful.

46. I'm terrified of having kids.

47. I hate spending other peoples money.

48. I often wish I could see myself through other people's eyes. I'm sure they don't see me the way I think they do.

49. I don't regret breaking up with any of my exes.

50. When it comes to intimate relationships, I think bodily functions should always remain private. Always. There are some things I just don't ever want to hear, see or smell. Ever.

51. I have scars on my body that make me severely insecure, force me to be extremely conscious of the way I do things at all times and make me fear the moment someone notices them and asks me about them.

52. I love getting dirty (you can interpret that any way you want).

53. I hate making small chitchat and will avoid encounters with people just to avoid meaningless chitchat.

54. I don't like day-hikes. If I'm going to put in the effort required to go hiking there better be a tent and a cozy sleeping bag at the end of the trail. And a campfire with S'mores.

55. I don't see the point in watching sports on TV. Unless it's the Super Bowl and I'm at a party with lots of alcohol and pizza. Otherwise, what's the point? I do enjoy the excitement of watching them in person. Except for baseball. And golf. And probably curling too.

56. I hate red roses. Hate them. I once got red roses for my birthday from a boyfriend. In November. My birthday is in January. Epic failure. I once received a bouquet of daisies from a guy I was dating. For no reason other than he thought I would like them. Epic success.

57. I'm severely indecisive and can never make up my mind about what I want or like. My brain literally becomes paralyzed whenever anyone asks me what I want or like. I'm trying to work on this. It's not going so well.

58. I have a hard time not judging people for their choice in music, reading material and other entertainment choices (like TV). Sorry.

59. I have sacrificed more of my life for relationships than I would like to admit. I'm trying to work on this.

60. I miss the friendships I had in high school.

61. I have an irrational fear of getting my haircut. Which is why I only get it cut once or twice a year. I've had so many bad experiences. Some day I would like to leave the hair salon with the hair cut I went in there expecting to get. Some day.

62. I have an irrational fear of birds.

63. It's easier for me to be friends with men than with women. I don't get the drama that comes along with having female friends. And I have a hard time relating to women. I'm not sure why.

64. I'm a chronic procrastinator.

65. I love sushi. I never thought I would, but I do.

66. I often wish I could get rid of all my stuff, jump in my car and drive away. Far, far away and start a brand new life where no one knows me. Kind of like Delia Grinstead in Ladder of Years by Ann Tyler. Tyler's books always give me perspective on my life.

67. I love the cartoon, Chowder.

68. I once dated a musician. He wrote a song about me. His band broke up not long after, before they even had a chance to perform the song in public. I was more bothered by that fact than the fact that we broke up as well not long after.

69. I've never had a successful one-night stand. And by successful, I mean, one in which the guy didn't want more. Some of my longest relationships were the result of failed one-night stands.

70. I love gumballs. I've never met a gumball I didn't love. Even the stale ones that have been sitting in the machine for 6 years.

71. I've become more spontaneous and less controlled as the years go by. And here I was afraid it would go the opposite way.

72. In college, I once allowed others to believe that I had slept with someone because I would have felt bad for the guy if his friends had found out the truth. (The truth was, I refused to sleep with him after discovering how small his penis was. I lied and told him I was having my period. And then I slept in my roommate's bed. He had a rep to maintain, and I didn't want to become the source of any suffering for him.)

73. I rarely ever give a shit about what others think about me in any given situation (see #72 above) because I know the truth, and in my mind, that's all that matters.

74. I hate it when I'm forced to justify my actions to someone else. I would love it if I could just act of my own accord and only have to answer to myself.

75. After years and years and years of being in relationships, I feel like I'm all used up.

76. It's easier for me to tell this stuff to strangers than it is for me to tell this stuff to the people who love and care about me. I can't say I'm really trying to work on this.

77. I rarely wash my hands. Not properly at least.

78. I can't stand Molly Ringwald.

79. I can't stand anything really sugary sweet. Like girly drinks. And fancy pastries (egg issue aside). And frosting. And sweet tea. And sweet coffee. (Chocolate is the exception. As long as it isn't gag-me sweet)

80. I have four sisters and a brother. My stepfather always complained about being outnumbered when we were growing up. Now he has four grandsons (officially. Six unofficially, as in, not belonging to my siblings but to their significant others) and a granddaughter. Coincidence? I think not.

81. Only one of my siblings is married. But he's currently going through a divorce, so I guess it no longer counts.

82. Life just won't let me forget the person I'm trying to forget. Stupid life.

83. My mom bought me and my twin the Betty Crocker Cookbook: Bridal Edition years ago, claiming that we'd never get married, so she might as well just buy it for us while it was still available. (Thanks Mom. Your faith in us is so uplifting and inspiring. And don't think I don't know what you're getting at when you hint that you'll never have anymore grandchildren. I get it. I'm an epic failure. I've accepted it. You should too.)

84. I often feel like the black sheep of the family.

85. I once had a student removed from an elective art class I was teaching because he was sexually harassing me. True story.

86. I hate it when people ask me for advice or expect me to comment on a predicament they've gotten themselves into. People rarely want the truth in these situations, and that's usually all I'm willing to dish out because I hate blowing smoke up people's asses.

87. My sexuality often scares me and sometimes feels like more than I can handle (see #88 below).

88. I have a hard time remaining faithful in relationships. I'm trying to work on this.

89. I have a hard time letting people down/disappointing them/breaking their hearts/and so on and so on. It's a guilt thing. I blame my childhood. More specifically, my parents. I'm trying to work on this. (It's not going so well)

90. I believe that dying is like sleeping, but without the dreams.

91. I have a hard time believing in anything that isn't tangible.

92. I love to bake. And plan parties (but not necessarily attend them. I prefer to be behind the scenes. Unless it's of the beer-drinking variety. And especially if there's a bonfire.).

93. I once played a nerd in my class' senior play. I loved it. It fed the acting bug I had been harboring since the eighth grade, but I was realistic, and I knew that where I grew up, the opportunity would never present itself.

94.  I love to cook but I only think it's worth the effort when I cook for someone(s) other than myself.

95. I have a bladder the size of a walnut. This isn't backed by any medical evidence, just by the fact that I have to pee ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME.

96. I have a heart-shaped uterus. This is backed by medical evidence. You would think this would make for a more loving uterine environment. This is not the case. Apparently it makes for a more inhospitable one. Whatever. We'll cross that bridge if we ever get there.

97. I once had dreams of becoming a soccer superstar. But then I hurt my knee and lost all confidence in myself (FYI, this was just one of the many downfalls that occurred in 1995).

98. I love my sisters. We're not all that close, so I often fear that they don't know this, but I do.

99. I prefer to make my own wrapping paper.

100. I don't eat fast food nor do I drink soda. I have no regrets about this.

101. I used to hate my first name, but now I kind of like it. I just wish it were easier for people to remember it (Seriously, it's a month. What's so hard about remembering a month?).

This post has been very therapeutic for me. It won't even bother me if you didn't read through all 101 items because it meant more for me to write it than it did to have anyone read it (quite possibly related to #73?).

And that is that.

I am a Lady of Laziness -er- Leisure

So technically, this is my last day of work as a grad assistant at the school I'll be graduating from tomorrow. However, there ain't shit for me to do at work, therefore, my days are pretty uneventful, boring and, quite frankly, lazy.

Let me illustrate for you...

A Typical Day in the Life of the OBG (otherwise known as yesterday):

8:58 am- Get jolted awake by... something. What was that? An alarm? A text? Angels heralding in the new day? Decide that since I'm up, I might as well get up and take care of some errands and head into work, but decide not to shower but figure that clean clothes would be a good idea.

9:32 am- On the road, heading to the post office, a place I haven't been to in about three weeks. Once at the post office wonder what the purpose is of my mailbox if all I ever get is junk mail. Sort through the grocery store fliers and discover an Urban Outfitters catalog and a notice from my Student Loan Big Wigs. Realize I forgot to contact the Student Loan Big Wigs last month when they notified me that my in-school deferment (or was it a forbearance?) would be expiring. Make a mental note to call the SLBW later. Head to work.

10:03 am- Arrive at the office where people are perplexed as to why I'm there since they have no work for me to do. Receive a graduation gift from the secretary and fight back tears that are struggling their way out because it's touching to think that she will miss me. Fill out last (bogus) time sheet. Make plans to officially say goodbye to everyone on Friday. Leave.

10:25 am- Pick up tickets for graduation that I will not be using because I am a loser and instead will be giving to one of my friends so her entire family can attend the ceremonies. Feel slightly depressed about the nonevent that graduating grad school has become.

10:37 am- Head home.

10:40 am- Arrive at home. Make coffee and cinnamon toast. Crack open the laptop and proceed to apply for a student loan deferment because of unemployment, and become slightly shocked over how easy it is. Decide to (finally) schedule an eye exam before I lose my insurance. 

11:18 am- Try job searching but give up when a) I can't find any jobs and b) I can't apply for the jobs that I can find because the online application process isn't functioning properly. Curse technology because it's keeping me from getting a job. Curse school districts for only accepting online applications and not paper ones.

11:52 am- Check email, facebook, local newspaper sites, blogger, and a variety of other internet sites for news, updates and random information.

12:38 pm- Clean room up a little bit. Make popcorn. Have a brief conversation with the mail lady.

1:00 pm- Eat popcorn, try watching a Netflix movie online.

1:30 pm- Quit watching Netflix because the connection sucks so much. Have brief conversation in kitchen with a housemate about school being over.

2:06 pm- Blog for awhile. Have a few texting conversations. Catch up on reading blogs. Develop blogger girl crush on Katie at Date me, D.C.! because the tales of her dating woes are just too much. Spend WAY too much time reading her archived posts.

3:28 pm- Become only slightly concerned that the 'M' of the 'PMS' has yet to show itself, especially since my insides tend to run like clockwork, but decide to worry about this later because I prefer to ignore potential problems in the hopes that by doing so they will go away. Return to hiding away in the internet.

4:48 pm- Participate in phone call that makes me want to pull my hair out because of the whole PMS thing and the fact that I hate talking on the phone. Become secretly relieved when the call gets dropped.

5:00 pm- Cave to a chocolate craving that results in me bustin' out some mad MacGyver skills which also results in me having a slight microwave mishap (you'll hear about this next week)

5:20 pm- Pre-blog about microwave mishap. 

5:25 pm- Answer phone and continue phone call that was dropped earlier while continuing to pre-blog. Restrain from pulling my hair out, again. Get slightly freaked out by conversation when gangrene is mentioned. It was brought to my attention that I may require supervision, something that I have been saying for awhile now. I decide that I need to purchase some real first-aid products, toot-sweet.

6:26 pm- Check self in the mirror to make sure I'm appropriately dressed to be seen in public. Decide that it doesn't matter since I don't really know anyone in town any ways. Walk out of the house looking like this:

6:28 pm- Proceed to the grocery store with fears of rotting appendages and other medical nightmares. Purchase hydrogen peroxide, Neosporin, bruschetta, tortilla chips, mozzarella cheese and ginger ale. Contribute $1 to some cancer charity that I didn't quite catch because the cashier was talking too fast.

6:50 pm- Back at home, make bruschetta nachos and let some guy use my phone to call his friend (aka my landlord) who he was suppose to meet at our house. Rack my brain to try and remember the dude's name because I know I've met him before but resign myself to the fact that I suck at that sort of thing. Curse the house because the ice cube tray is empty and I want a drink. Stat. Refill ice cube tray.

7:15 pm- Have brief conversation with housemate in the kitchen. Let the same guy from earlier into the house to use the bathroom because he's been hanging outside this whole time because the landlord has yet to show up.

7:35 pm- Turn on Ghost Whisperer and respond to facebook messages. Realize that I missed a call from my dad but also realize that I'm totally okay with that. Notice that I missed a call this morning for subbing which totally explains the noise that woke me up.

8:07 pm- Get impatient with the whole liquid turning to solid process and mix a drink up, neat. Watch some more Ghost Whisperer.

8:30 pm- Watch newly discovered funny Wednesday night TV on ABC. Realize that I have yet to resolve the toe issue and should probably do something about that since it's really starting to become painful and of course, it still smells bad.

8:38 pm- Finish drink and remember that there is a tray full of Jell-O shots in the fridge, leftover from a house mate's acapella party this past weekend*. Wish that I liked Jell-O. Wish that I could tolerate vodka. Recall how terrible vodka is. Wish I had some pudding shots which I had for the first and only time during my trip back to the mountains when we partied in the woods, sort of. Decide to just go make another drink, with or without ice.

8:40 pm- Get distracted from life by the appearance of Betty White on "The Middle." Laugh out loud when they talk about how cross-country has no-cuts and all you have to do is just show-up and remember a post by The Sassy Curmudgeon that talked about the same thing.

8:43 pm- Realize that I haven't gotten anywhere on that drink. Or with that toe. Realize that you are all probably realizing now that I'm writing this post Wednesday night and not on Thrusday as I would like you to believe.

8:44 pm- Feel so seriously bad about myself because I truly have no life now that grad school is over and kind-of sort-of want to disappear from the world. Wonder what the purpose of my life is. Can't come up with an answer.

8:46 pm- Decide to make a very, very strong drink. And make a mental note to fix that toe thing but secretly wonder if I wouldn't be better off developing gangrene and turning into a scary werewolf/zombie monster. 

8:48 pm- Imagine that Sue Heck is really the middle school version of the Sassy C, reincarnated, or something like that. Die laughing.

9:13 pm- Enjoying my drink and decide that I beat this post to death.

Catch you all later!

10:05 pm- Notice that I neglected to publish this post. Wonder what the hell happened to "Happy Town". I mean, I know I wasn't entirely on board with it yet, but I was giving it a chance. Wonder what the hell "What Would You Do?" is and decide it looks stupid. Mix another drink, because really, what else have I got to do, and proceed to channel search.

10:08 pm- Decide that I really have beaten this to death and publish post, for tomorrow.

* There is nothing in the world more entertaining than being awakened at 2:00 am to a basement full of partiers busting out in song, in perfect harmony. Seriously. Most partiers are drunkenly yelling, shouting, fighting, tearing through the house at this point in time. These folks? They sing.

What's a bored girl to do?

    

Now that I'm done with my thesis, I'm trying to figure out what the hell to do with my time. (Yeah, I know. I just finished yesterday but I get bored very, very quickly.) This led me to wonder what the hell it was I used to do with my time before I had a thesis to write. Before I was in graduate school. 

Let's see... That would have been two years ago...

Well, for one, I was employed. I was working as an elementary art teacher, so that occupied most of my time. What with all the lesson planning and art show organizing and what not.

I was living in Northern New York in a house with three four five guys. In case you're no good at math, that means there were a total of six of us living in a four bedroom house. Only four of us paid rent.

The fifth frequently put in money for the utilities, which was cool. He often bought food for the house too, which was also cool. Probably because we allowed him to "conduct business" out of our house.

The sixth was always the DD and would drive our drunk asses around at all hours of the night, which was awesome and very convenient. He often bought food for the house as well, which was also awesome and very convenient.

We played a lot of beer bong in the basement and Three Man in the second living room rec room fifth bedroom. There were parties at our house quite frequently, which wasn't always cool. There were also cops showing up at our house quite frequently, which wasn't awesome or convenient. It was funny though, the neighbors would call the cops to our house when there were only two or three of us at the house, and we weren't doing anything wrong, which made our neighbors look like real assholes. The cops hated them. This amused us.

Our lease wasn't renewed, which had less to do with the parties and the cops and more to do with ridiculous zoning codes that forbid more than three non-blood relatives to live in the same housing unit. The neighbors reported our landlords for this violation the day we moved in. Our neighbors were all doctors and college professors. Apparently we weren't welcome in the neighborhood. We stayed for almost a year and then parted ways. 

After that, I moved in with four guys and one two girls. For you math challenged individuals, that would be a total of seven of us in a four bedroom house. A couple of months after that I started graduate school and then all hell broke loose. But that's a story for another day.

So, what was it that I did in my free time? 

I guess a drank a lot. I lounged around on the weekends, hungover, with friends, watching movies and eating greasy food.

Now that I think about it, I guess I didn't really do a whole lot of anything. At least nothing constructive nor productive. I suppose that's why I eventually extricated myself from that way of life.

Now that I live on my own (well, aside from the six other people that live in my house, but they don't count since none of us actually socialize together), I have all this free time to myself. What on earth am I going to do with all this time?

Maybe I'll work on some art. Maybe I'll do some job hunting. Maybe I'll go road tripping and visit far away family and friends. Maybe I'll try making local friends.

Who knows? I guess the possibilities are endless, huh?

What I lack in maturity, I make up for in experience.

   

I've been quite discouraged about my life recently. I was super cool about turning 30 in January, but lately... I'm feeling... less... accomplished than I feel I should be at this point in my life. I can't explain why I feel this way, but I do. It's irrational, I know, but I didn't expect to find myself unemployed and living with 5 girls that I could have had as students in a house that could be foreclosed on any day now. And I was hoping to have a dog.

My instability in life has resulted in me feeling, on numerous occasions, obligated to defend not only my abilities but my knowledge and my right to voice my opinion. Let me explain... I have been told I don't look a day over 23. Fantastic. No, really, this is great. HOWEVER, I feel like others treat me like I'm 23, and I'm not. Whenever I'm with a group of people who matter I often feel like whenever I speak, people are thinking, "What is this naive 23 year-old talking about it? How can she possibly know?" I'm then placed in the position where I have to defend my right to speak. I'm not 23! I have experience! No, I'm not employed right now... and no, I don't have a family... and no, I don't actually have anywhere to call home... but, dammit! I'VE LIVED!! Which is more than I can say for most people my age.

I recently had someone tell me I had an interesting life. Honestly, this shocked me. What? Me? An interesting life? How do you figure? I know one or two people who have expressed envious feelings about me and my life, but I've never thought of it as interesting! This perplexed me. Then this got me thinking... and damn! You're right! I DO have an interesting life! In an attempt to make myself feel accomplished and successful despite my lack of accomplishment and success at life's milestones, I made this handy-dandy list of all the things I can think of that make my life interesting (in exact order of how I thought of em'). Enjoy!

* I once got paid to spend a week in Sun Valley, Idaho in a gorgeous house with catered meals. Oh, and we drove through the town that Bruce and Demi own (okay, they don't actually own it, but they might as well. It's called Hailey, by the way, and if you click on the link, you can see that Blaine County Idaho has a dick. Go check it out. Tell me what you think.)

* I've been on a private, fully catered plane. It was awesome. Rich people who can afford private planes get to bypass all security measures. For real! The only thing I had to do was show them my ID.

* I once ate meatballs made out of walnuts. They were nasty, but I didn't feel I had the right to complain since they were free and a "perk" of my free Idaho trip.

* I was once a nanny for a NYC baby who freaked-out anytime I set him down on the grass, but that little tyke LOVED to crawl around on concrete. Weirdo!

* I once spent the night in an upscale Manhattan apartment and visited a penthouse on Central Park West (in my ripped up jeans and stinky-ass thrift-shop t-shirt. Sometimes I really embarrass myself.)

* I once ate lunch on the steps of the Met.

* I became a world traveler before the age of seven and flew on a plane with my sister ALL BY OURSELVES in the 2nd grade.

* I once ruled the world! You know, if the world were a cargo ship called the American Condor. My dad was the captain once upon a time and my sisters and I had free reign of the ship (being the captains daughters and all. You want to play hide-n-seek in the cargo area? Done! You want to watch movies and play darts in the rec room/bar? Go for it! Free candy from the locked storage room? By all means! You don't like what is being served for dinner and want the chefs to whip you up a grilled cheese sandwich? You're the boss!)

(Our childhood playground The American Condor)

* I not only met Marky-Mark and his posse but had a brief conversation with him. That dude is short! But way cool and friendly.

(the dude is hot! Source)

* I've made change for Chris Noth.

(this dude USED to be hot. Source)

* I can drive a stick-shift (in a world where the standard is quickly becoming not-so standard).

* I drink beer and whiskey. In my eyes, this makes me interesting. I have been welcomed in to many male-centric social circles because of this (at least that's what I'd like to believe, thank you very much).

* I eat raw fish.

* My grandfather was head of the athletic department at a university (he was famous! Well, at least among gym teachers. There was a time when it was hard to find a gym teacher who DIDN'T know my grandfather).

(my grandpa)

*  I'm getting my Master's degree.

* I've lived in countless number of habitats with countless number of cohabitants. (You can read about that, among other things, here)

* I can bake pretty much anything. And I kick ass at planning parties and organizing annual Cookie Weekends.

* I've seen Bob Dylan in concert.

* I've driven a Lexus.

* I've met governors from two different states. 

(Source. and Source)

* I was molested by little girls. While I was babysitting them. On more than one occasion. (I'm still traumatized by this. Moving on...)

* I've up and relocated to a new town/city without a job, or a home or any real plan on more than one occasion... all on my own.

* I've had relations in hotel windows overlooking the waterfront of two major US cities. (Shhh... don't tell anyone)

* I know sign language.

* I've frolicked in a fountain in the Netherlands. (okay, frolicking isn't quite the way to put it. More like I was dared to run under it. By my dad. When I was 4 or 5. And I got SOAKED. Thanks Dad.)

* Not only have I ridden the DC Metro numerous times, but I liked it!

* I've seen Phish in concert. And the Dead (sans Jerry).

* I've been to dirty, muddy, questionable music festivals in the middle of the woods.

* I went dancing in Montreal. (Once. I hate dance clubs.)

* I've smoked weed with Antiguan cooks and eaten breakfast with Irish jockeys (of the horse riding kind).

* My (distant) family owns a button factory. In Muscatine, Iowa. True story.

(the first button factory)

 * My distant uncle cousin was involved in one of the biggest art scandals of the 20th century. True story. (It was even in the works to turn the scam into a movie. Guess it never worked out though.)

(trustworthy looking man, huh?)

*  I've won awards for my artwork (read: $) and even sold a piece of work once.

* I've been present for a real life child birthing. I was 16 at the time and had the honor of holding my older sister's leg during the process. I almost past passed out. Bleh.

(the not-so little bundle of joy, 14 years later, with the latest addition to the OBG's nephews roster)

* I'm a published writer. I think I was 16 or 17 at the time I wrote this. It was deep.

* I once had a phone conversation with a member of Rush, but I can't remember who it was. They were in town for a concert and had called the restaurant I was working at to make arrangements for some post-show bash or something along those lines. 

* I've modeled. Twice. (Okay, both times were for friends who were doing a photo project for school, but you never know, they might be famous some day. Maybe.)

(Source. This Facebook link may or may not work for you.)

* I survived a skiing trip in the mountains of West Virginia. West Virginia is slightly frightening.

And there you have. All the things I can think of that make me pretty damn interesting. I can't wait to see what life brings me next so I can expand upon this. I ♥ my life!

But I thought everyone had this stuff in their cars...

No?

I recently rode in a friend's über clean vehicle (we're talking new car clean), which, I gotta tell you, impressed the shit out of me. I mean, this is a person who drives to work everyday, and on top of that, is male! My mind is blown everyday.

At any rate, riding in my car this morning I couldn't help but notice the excessive amount of crap I have in my car. I mean, I would be über embarrassed to have anyone ride in it with me (which, thank God, is rarely a problem). Let's ignore for a moment the inch-thick layer of dirt and dust and unidentifiable fluffy white stuff on the dash, and let's ignore for a moment, the piles of dirt and pebbles lurking in the corners of the car floor; there is a TON of crap in my car. I have, very conveniently, compiled a neat little list for you in support of my argument (if I had had my camera with me, I would have taken photos... well, maybe).

1. an E-Z Pass (okay, well that's normal. many people have them in their cars.)
2. a parking permit for work (perfectly appropriate. I use it every weekday. no problem here.)
3. a parking sticker for a place I lived two, possibly three, residences ago (okay, well, that could and should probably be removed)
4. 9 pens (yes, I counted. apparently this is where all my missing pens have runaway too. I mean, one or two pens in the car is very convenient, but nine? could be considered overkill.)
5. a fishing lure (yeah, I'm confused by this one too. I don't fish.)
6. 2 coffee travel mugs (I was wondering where these had wandered off to, and not-so coincidentally, now I know where that weird smell is coming from)
7. medical papers (in my defense, I move ALOT, so my car is probably the best place to store important paperwork, so...)
8. a road atlas (none of those fancy GPS gadgets for me. I'm quite proud of the fact that not only can I read maps very well, I can also find my way anywhere or out of any {ahem} "detour" with a road atlas. which I may or may not have had to do. numerous times. and in Jersey no less. If you don't understand the gravity of this accomplishment, you've obviously never been lost detoured in Jersey before. it wouldn't surprise me to learn that people spontaneously combust while trying to find their way around Jersey. I'm just saying. there's something not right about that state.)
9. a pair of sneakers
10. a collection of CDs (for those times when I forget my iPod and I wander into radio station dead zones)
11. a first aid kit (huh. I forgot that was in there. good to know. you never know when you might need one.)
12. glow sticks (huh. I forgot those were in there as well. good to know. you never know when you might need one.)
13. hand-written directions (for those times when I need to travel locally and the road atlas won't cut it)
14. cryptic hand-written notes (I can only assume these are coded instructions for finding the answers to all the puzzling questions in my life. and apparently a guy named Don holds the key. here's an illustration of one. you tell me, what is this?)
    
    
    
15. skis, ski boots, ski poles and a ski jacket (because hey, you never know. incidentally, no ski pants. seems I've misplaced them during one of my moves. bummer. they were very cute with this pretty little embroidered flower right above the left butt cheek.)
16. garbage (lots and lots of garbage. and no garbage bag. I need to remedy this. pronto.)
17. a beer cap (there's a story behind it, I swear. it's not just another random piece of garbage. and I don't drink and drive. at least not at the same time. anymore. I promise.)
18. a colorful plastic bead bracelet (made for me by one of my former students. it has turtles on it, which I like. I miss teaching.)
19. junk mail (a nice big pile of it in my back seat. receiving junk mail always indicates it's time to move again because THEY. FOUND. ME.)
20. lotion (the pump kind. I don't know why this is in my car. could be leftover from my ceramics days?)
21. a pair of underwear (don't worry, they're unworn, and still in the package. in fact, I just found these and now I feel bad because I made the people at Victoria's Secret send me another pair when I thought they had shorted me a pair in my last order. the operator blamed the mishap on machinery designed by men, which was funny, and they sent me another pair very promptly, which I was happy about, but now I feel guilty because I was wrong. on the plus side I have a new pair of underwear!)
22. two pairs of flip flops (I ♥ flip flops and cannot wait for the weather to be nice again so I can wear them)
23. a wiper blade (still in the package because I couldn't get the old one off and didn't have a man around to convince to do it for me.)
24. jumper cables (because you never now when you might need them. I have this fantasy of coming across some poor man who needs his car jumped but doesn't have cables. then I'll whip mine out and he'll be über* impressed by the cute, prepared blonde girl who came to his rescue. I'll save the day and drive away into the sunset feeling good that I am a strong and independent woman. of course, I don't know exactly how to use them, but that's besides the point.)
25. fuses (I do know how to replace the fuses in my car. I know this because one blows all the time. it makes me feel really good about myself to get all dirty and grimy switching out the fuses. I rock!)
26. a stick (I know there's a story behind this, I just can't remember what it was.)
27. a pocket mask (you know, the kind you use for CPR so you don't actually have to do mouth-to-mouth but mouth-to-mask instead, because, you never know. maybe the guy with the dead battery needs to be resuscitated too. and maybe he has a nasty cold sore. you're gonna be very happy to have the pocket mask at that point.)
28. an empty eye glasses case (empty because the glasses I wear for driving broke about four years ago. okay, well, they didn't break, they're just missing the screw to one of the arms. but I lost the screw and delayed taking them in to get 'em fixed. and then I lost the arm during one of my moves. I know I still have the glasses somewhere...)
29. a Bose iPod speaker (what? that's not where you store your stereo equipment?)
30. a blanket (preparedness, folks. come on.)

How nice. I unintentionally ended on a nice round number. Maybe in Sassy Curmudgeon-style, I should rename this post "30 Useless Things I Discovered in My Car When I Was 30." Or maybe not. 

How about you? Do you have any weird and/or embarrassing things taking up residency in your car? Please share.

* apparently über is our word of the day, kids.

Mountain Getaway

  

I just returned from a weekend back home in the mountains. I haven't been home to visit since... uh... well, I'm embarrassed to say I don't know when I was there last. Maybe last August? Or was I there for Thanksgiving? I don't remember. I wish I could say it was purely a social/catch-up/self-reflection visit, which it was, but I also went home to attend the wake of the mother of one of my good girlfriends from high school. It's hard to imagine that we're at the point where worrying about our parents and their health has become a part of our lives. I still have a hard enough time coping with the idea that most of my high school classmates are married or have children or are going through divorces or all of the above. I, as you may or may not know, have yet to reach any of those stages or milestones yet (ever?). It's hard to imagine we're going to have to start dealing with losing our parents.

So, Friday night my sister, a good friend of ours and I attended the wake. There were some familiar faces in attendance, and while it was good to see them, it certainly wasn't the best of circumstances. Part of the evening was spent reminiscing, part was spent crying, or more accurately, bawling, and the other part was spent discussing breast feeding, Dora the Explorer, potty training, and... well, I don't really know because I stopped listening at breast feeding. I had originally planned on returning to NP on Saturday, but I was easily persuaded to stick around for "girls night out" (which, I am sad to say, is nothing at all like "girls night out" used to be) on Saturday evening. I also liked the idea of spending another day with my nephews. Here's a pic of Owen B'dowen telling me to, "Shhhh. Be quiet" because his brother was sleeping:

I had forgotten how deliriously giddy and stupid my sister and I can get when we're tired and haven't been around each other in a while. I've been told we have our own weird system of communication. We probably do, but when you've known someone since conception, I guess that can probably happen. Here's a pic of my sis when I was trying to show Owen B'dowen how the smile function on my camera worked. For those of you who don't know how this works, the camera can recognize when people are smiling and then automatically take a picture. For some reason though, the camera wouldn't recognize my sister's smile, but would instead snap away whenever she made a goofy face (I'm posting the tamest pic):

On Saturday, I was able to enjoy some of the previously unacknowledged (by me) perks of the mountains, no internet (well, my mom has dial-up, but that's so painful, she might as well not have it), no cell coverage and no television (again, my mom has a dish, but her tv is so small and old, she might as well not have one). In other words, complete isolation with very few distractions. This was something I hated about the mountains when I was growing up, but as an adult, with a ton of work to do, this was actually quite welcoming. My sister had hauled the boys off to a birthday party, so I was able to complete a few hours of work in silence. I think there's something to be said for the whole recluse in the mountain cabin thing. If I had a mountain cabin, I'd spend the next two weeks in it to get this thesis completed on time.

Saturday evening, my sis and I ventured out in a small caravan of minivans, sedans and SUVs to the middle of nowhere and drank around a bonfire campfire pile of coals with about five girls we graduated high school with (and the band members of E'town Express, as well as a few other folks). There was more reminiscing, and of course, more kid talk (yawn). The evening made me realize two things: 1. I miss having close friends, especially my high school girlfriends. They were the absolute best, and 2. I have very little in common with them anymore. Oh, they're pretty much the same people as they were in high school, a little more mature with a few more laugh lines, but, for the most part, I can't relate to their lives (read: kids, marriage, divorce). We were able to bond over our latest (mostly failed, or failing) adult relationships. We commiserated over our unemployment woes and reflected on the fact that we were entering (in the case of my sis and I, have entered) our 30s, and for the most part, none of us find ourselves where we thought we would be at this point in our lives. Now that I reflect back on it, I guess we do have more in common than I thought. All in all, it was good times. A little chilly, sure, but no one's shoes caught on fire, the police didn't show up, and no one fought over anyones boyfriend. Isn't it amazing what age can do? Just for fun, here's a pic of a "girls night out" in high school. Please, by all means, be embarrassed for us. Fashion didn't seem to exist back then:

Good times. So, this morning I woke up to snow. It is only March, you know. It's been known to snow in the ADKs in May, so this shouldn't have been that big of a surprise to me, but I feel like I've been gone for so long I had forgotten about this type of weather pattern (it had been sunny and in the mid-60s the day before). It was good to get back to the 72 degrees in NP. Overall, the weekend was good for my mental health. I reconnected with some good friends, saw my favorite nephews, completed some thesis work and was able to clean out some of the cobwebs in my head and do some spring cleaning/organizing in there. I hope everyone else out there in blogland had a productive weekend as well!

OH! I almost forgot! You know how I have a not-so secret, long-standing crush on Christian Slater? Well, I was pleasantly surprised to catch a repeat episode of My Name is Earl Friday guest-starring none other than Mr. Slater. And when I returned home tonight, and decided to turn on the TV around 8:50pm, low-and-behold, there he is again! On Extreme Makeover:Home Edition (which I don't actually watch, but I suffered through ten painful minutes of a very scary looking, spasing Ty for two brief glimpses of Christian)! Why didn't I know about this?

In the shower....

     

.... I am brilliant.

All my best ideas come to me in the shower. By the time I've washed, rinsed, dried, dressed and brushed, I've lost them all. I'm a genius in the shower. I'm clever. I'm funny. I'm insightful. I'm intelligent. I'm... uh... well, I'd be able to come up with numerous adjectives to describe myself if I were in the shower right now. 

In the shower, I know how to tell a story. In the shower, I can solve all the problems of the world. In the shower, I can solve all of my problems. In the shower, my thesis is completed. In the shower, I have ambition. In the shower, I am the BEST ME THAT I CAN BE!!!

I think the shower is magical. Maybe it's the hot water. Maybe it's the process of cleansing. Maybe it's fact that I'm naked. I don't know. I do know, however, that my next computer will be waterproof.

What's a wandering girl to do?

   

So, I received this email from my post office tonight, and I immediately began to panic:

Dear April:

Your renewal fee of $30.00 for the PO Box listed below is due on 03/31/2010.

PO Box:                          1134

Post Office location:         41 Main St.

I signed up for a 6-month PO Box last October when I was unsure of where I would be moving to at the end of the month (at the time, I was temporarily staying at the farm house of a friend of one of my sisters. It's a long story). A girl needs to get her mail, you know? Well, it appears my six months is almost up, and I'm left with a bit of a dilemna. I graduate grad school in May (fingers crossed) and have no idea where I'll be living or what my address will be after that. Do I...

1. renew my rental for another 6-months with the understanding that I might only need it for another two months?
2. have my mail forwarded to my current physical address for the next two months (I really hate the forwarding/change of address process, which I seem to do at least once a year) only to have to forward it again after that?
3. ... I forgot what my third option was, but I'm pretty sure there was one.

The point is, I have a big decision to make here. It seems I am once again approaching a crossroads where I must determine my next big move (and I don't mean the PO Box. I mean finding a job, moving...). How did this come upon me so quickly? Wasn't it just September and I was moving back to NY from VA

 

(sigh) The life of a nomadic soul.

Visions of a lonely girl...

       

A few years back, I was living in Saratoga Springs, or maybe hiding out would be more accurate. I was substitute teaching during the days and waitressing during the evenings and weekends. I had just run away from a particularly rough patch in my life. I was wrecked. I was broken. I was trying to recover, reflect and reassess. During this time, I was experiencing a lot of moments of solitary loneliness. It was also during this time that I was first introduced to Etsy, which I ♥, and the art work of Kendra Binney. 

I immediately connected with her haunting images. The sadness and wistful despair of her subjects deeply affected me. Her style spoke to me and the colors in her work cried out to me. I had to have it. I spent days figuring out which reproductions I wanted, which ones would work in my collection. I settled on five pieces and made my purchase. It was the first time I had ever purchased real art before (while they were reproductions of paintings, they were also personally made by the artist). I couldn't wait for them to arrive!

Years later, I still have the pieces hanging on my wall. Kendra no longer has a shop on Etsy, but still sells her work through her website. It seems she has become quite established and has moved on to bigger and better things (I'm grateful I discovered her early on as the price for her reproductions have doubled, in some cases, tripled since I made my purchase). Her work opened my eyes to a whole world of art I had never been exposed to before, Contemporary Art. And I'm talking about real contemporary art. Art that real people are making in real time. Her work moved my knowledge of art forward, and I haven't looked back (sorry, "Master's," but your art is soooo last century).

Congratulations on all your success, Kendra, and thank you for introducing me to a new world of art and expression.

 

on display in my room

They Can Do As They Wish, 2006

 

This Place is Full of Lost Monsters, 2006

Empty, 2006

Dream of Being Underwater, 2006

Lie, 2006

Please take a moment to check out Kendra Binney's website. Her worked has evolved over the years since my purchases and it really shouldn't be missed.