The delay in your regularly scheduled posting has been due to job stress. We apologise for this inconvenience and blame it directly on our current employer who is finishing up with Bankruptcy filing. Current employer has made hints in the direction that "the way the economy is currently we'll be able to get qualified individuals for cheap!". Meaning, this not-so cheap and not-highly qualified individual could be out of a job soon. Also out of the house hunt.
It has been hard to come up with anything to write that doesn't sound like a "Dear Diary" entry. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it's the waiting not the result that's killing me. How is everyone else fairing in this uncertain time?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Monday's are a deja-vu
Rule #1 in homebuying, never piss off your Real Estate Agent.
... three days and I haven't heard a response back from him. Two houses just hit the market in our target area, one in the middle of our price range. The other at the top with little wiggle room.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned this yet, houses are moving really quickly in our area and price range. You know the houses I mentioned in this post? All have gone contingent*, most were on the market for under twenty days.
If I'm in the market longer I'll start bringing a camera, and I'll post screen caps of the market listings. That way you'll believe me when I say, time is of crucial.
The majority of the houses we looked at are ones we can see ourselves in. We've considered expanding the kitchen, visualized where the entertainment center would go, laid on the floor to figure out how our bed would fit in the master bedroom, imagined wedding pictures mounted above the fireplace and planned Thanksgiving dinner. In a way we don't so much get an emotional attachment to the house but rather what the house means. The house is a blank slate in many ways, if there's the room and money for it, almost anything can be changed inside.
*contingent essentially means that an offer has been accepted by the seller and the escrow process has started. Houses can go back on the market during this time.
... three days and I haven't heard a response back from him. Two houses just hit the market in our target area, one in the middle of our price range. The other at the top with little wiggle room.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned this yet, houses are moving really quickly in our area and price range. You know the houses I mentioned in this post? All have gone contingent*, most were on the market for under twenty days.
If I'm in the market longer I'll start bringing a camera, and I'll post screen caps of the market listings. That way you'll believe me when I say, time is of crucial.
The majority of the houses we looked at are ones we can see ourselves in. We've considered expanding the kitchen, visualized where the entertainment center would go, laid on the floor to figure out how our bed would fit in the master bedroom, imagined wedding pictures mounted above the fireplace and planned Thanksgiving dinner. In a way we don't so much get an emotional attachment to the house but rather what the house means. The house is a blank slate in many ways, if there's the room and money for it, almost anything can be changed inside.
*contingent essentially means that an offer has been accepted by the seller and the escrow process has started. Houses can go back on the market during this time.
Friday, August 28, 2009
and then I was wrong...
Update: according to my husband I'm harsh.
With that in mind, I probably apologise cause I need to.
With that in mind, I probably apologise cause I need to.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The Apologizer
Hi my name is Meghan, I am 25 and I am an Apologizer.
I'm the finger on the trigger, apologize first and then ask what I did wrong kind of gal. If it's not the first thing I do, sometimes a defensive exclamation escapes first, it's the second thing I do.
Always without fail, I will apologize whether I was really wrong or not. It's probably my faux-bohemianesque upbringing that makes me want to care about how others "feel". That as part of a whole working society we're all just gears that need to get along in the machine of life. In part I can attribute my Apologizer status to my tendency to be blunt and my preference to soften the blow with an "I'm sorry, but..." (those shoes do give you cankles).
As I've gotten older, I've started to wonder if me being an Apologizer is adjusting the way those I interact with view me. Does it weaken my stance and how I'm viewed as a whole? Does it cause people to take me less seriously? Am I often apologizing for no reason?
In a brief e-mail exchange between my Realtor and myself, I felt the need to apologize. My initial e-mail could be viewed as an insinuation that he had not done his job. Previously he had insisted the listing price on a house was almost $10,ooo more than it was. Not only was I calling him on it but I was asking if any subsequent information regarding a bid in on the house was also incorrect due to the original mistake. His response was completely clipped and brief, telling me that the information on the bid was still correct. My internal response is "I'm sorry I implied you can't do your job!! FORGIVE ME!". Followed by groveling.
.... I'm stepping back, and reminding myself that in life I'm not always wrong. He had a right to be irratated if he was, and I had a right to question his original answer due to his initial mistake. No apologizing for me this time. It's a twelve step program!
I'm the finger on the trigger, apologize first and then ask what I did wrong kind of gal. If it's not the first thing I do, sometimes a defensive exclamation escapes first, it's the second thing I do.
Always without fail, I will apologize whether I was really wrong or not. It's probably my faux-bohemianesque upbringing that makes me want to care about how others "feel". That as part of a whole working society we're all just gears that need to get along in the machine of life. In part I can attribute my Apologizer status to my tendency to be blunt and my preference to soften the blow with an "I'm sorry, but..." (those shoes do give you cankles).
As I've gotten older, I've started to wonder if me being an Apologizer is adjusting the way those I interact with view me. Does it weaken my stance and how I'm viewed as a whole? Does it cause people to take me less seriously? Am I often apologizing for no reason?
In a brief e-mail exchange between my Realtor and myself, I felt the need to apologize. My initial e-mail could be viewed as an insinuation that he had not done his job. Previously he had insisted the listing price on a house was almost $10,ooo more than it was. Not only was I calling him on it but I was asking if any subsequent information regarding a bid in on the house was also incorrect due to the original mistake. His response was completely clipped and brief, telling me that the information on the bid was still correct. My internal response is "I'm sorry I implied you can't do your job!! FORGIVE ME!". Followed by groveling.
.... I'm stepping back, and reminding myself that in life I'm not always wrong. He had a right to be irratated if he was, and I had a right to question his original answer due to his initial mistake. No apologizing for me this time. It's a twelve step program!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Dear diary
I'm starving. My stomach is an empty gnawing pit.
My last meal for the day has consisted of rabbit food, with a little bit of protein thrown in for shits and giggles. So far the "I is so poor I can't afford my frilly $10 coffee drinks" diet is a tough one. I'm not going to share with you the midday daydream I had of a dancing Iced white mocha, or the chorus line of rice crispy treats with shortbread cookie feet, or the measly snack of garlic tasting cucumber slices I had earlier. I will share with you my desire to sell my husband "services" on the street corner. Buy me an iced chai anyone? He's a great mechanic, mind out of the gutter people.
Isn't my life so tragic? On the plus side, I hear starvation is God's diet plan.
*note: sarcasm doesn't always translate well in text.
My last meal for the day has consisted of rabbit food, with a little bit of protein thrown in for shits and giggles. So far the "I is so poor I can't afford my frilly $10 coffee drinks" diet is a tough one. I'm not going to share with you the midday daydream I had of a dancing Iced white mocha, or the chorus line of rice crispy treats with shortbread cookie feet, or the measly snack of garlic tasting cucumber slices I had earlier. I will share with you my desire to sell my husband "services" on the street corner. Buy me an iced chai anyone? He's a great mechanic, mind out of the gutter people.
Isn't my life so tragic? On the plus side, I hear starvation is God's diet plan.
*note: sarcasm doesn't always translate well in text.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Mis-Adventures in Homebuying Pt 2
Here's a quickie, when looking at homes that are foreclosed you'll eventually run into some unusual choices in home construction. Some of the unusual things we've run into so far:
- Wood paneling in the closet, only in the closet. This was faux wood-paneling that was peeling off.
- Random tile, in all colors of the spectrum, on a closet floor and no where else. With no grout.
- Brick fireplace with ugly orange marble framing out the mantle.
- Storage unit with a door built three feet inside of the unit, door ends at the start of the door way. At first it looked like it was a sliding door, even had a handy-dandy (don't say notebook) handle to slid it out with. No cause that would be practical, and it's a lot more fun to install a standard door complete with hinges that can't actually be used. At all. All of those above are from the same house.
- Mirrored, floor to ceiling closet doors used as a master bathroom door. Seriously, double doors at that. Wish I'd taken a picture cause it was he-larious.
- Bedrooms or random rooms built into the garage, illegally, and with various stages of professionalism. Usually the walls are unfinished and unpainted sheet rock.
The list goes on. That's not even including the stuff left behind, the walls scrawled with angry sentiments against the banks, random mattresses on things like pergolas, improperly installed shower units, missing cabinet doors, missing toilet seats, warped wood floors, seriously outdated kitchens and etc... It's enough to make you lose ten pounds from laughing at it all. Anyone want to share their experiences searching for a house?
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Misadventures in Home Buying Part 1
I know that my husband and I are not the only ones out there in the great U S of A that fell for the line “It’s a BUYERS market!” for some people this rings very true. For others, us in particular, it’s a bit of a misleading statement. Along with all the news of massive foreclosure’s hitting the market, it’s easy for one to believe that all they need to do is get pre-approved and a house normally out of their price range would be handed to them. Ok, so maybe that’s a little bit of an exaggeration, as even the most naïve know that there is a little bit more to it than that.
To me what a “buyers market” combined with foreclosures implies is an inventory larger than the demand, and prices that are low if not rock-bottom along with a little to zero chance of getting stuck in a bidding war. What we’re finding is the opposite. Out of the eight houses we’ve seen, we were advised that two were priced low to create a bidding war and would go for well over the listing price (ie:$20,000 over). One got bought out twenty minutes after we saw it, right before we could put our bid in, and four days after being listed. Another lender wouldn’t deal with our lender, we’re going FHA. On two of the houses the listing agents were expecting bids with large amounts of cash down to back up the offer. Those are only the houses we’ve been able to see so far, at least fifteen that I was interested in went into Escrow before we could check them out. One literally went contingent, an offer was accepted, an hour and a half before we went to view it.
We’ve been looking since middle of June, and it’s becoming frustrating. Neither of us thought it would be this hard. What we’re finding is that the supply is actually decreasing due to the moratorium placed on banks from foreclosing and likely in part due to homeowners not selling at this time. The demand is also increasing, specifically in our price range and in our area which is admittedly in higher demand then other parts of the country. Our price range is clearly the target price for most people within our area, it’s what I’d dub the “thanks greedy banks! Now even I can afford a house on a Wal-Mart Salary!!” budget. Note, I do not work at Wal-Mart and I do not know how much they make there it’s a metaphor.
We are checking out more houses tonight, my fingers are crossed that we can get in a bid before the house sells under our feet. Lastly, I am praying that the meth lab moved to another neighborhood than the ones we’re looking into… Anyone else out there having problems trying to buy their first house?
To me what a “buyers market” combined with foreclosures implies is an inventory larger than the demand, and prices that are low if not rock-bottom along with a little to zero chance of getting stuck in a bidding war. What we’re finding is the opposite. Out of the eight houses we’ve seen, we were advised that two were priced low to create a bidding war and would go for well over the listing price (ie:$20,000 over). One got bought out twenty minutes after we saw it, right before we could put our bid in, and four days after being listed. Another lender wouldn’t deal with our lender, we’re going FHA. On two of the houses the listing agents were expecting bids with large amounts of cash down to back up the offer. Those are only the houses we’ve been able to see so far, at least fifteen that I was interested in went into Escrow before we could check them out. One literally went contingent, an offer was accepted, an hour and a half before we went to view it.
We’ve been looking since middle of June, and it’s becoming frustrating. Neither of us thought it would be this hard. What we’re finding is that the supply is actually decreasing due to the moratorium placed on banks from foreclosing and likely in part due to homeowners not selling at this time. The demand is also increasing, specifically in our price range and in our area which is admittedly in higher demand then other parts of the country. Our price range is clearly the target price for most people within our area, it’s what I’d dub the “thanks greedy banks! Now even I can afford a house on a Wal-Mart Salary!!” budget. Note, I do not work at Wal-Mart and I do not know how much they make there it’s a metaphor.
We are checking out more houses tonight, my fingers are crossed that we can get in a bid before the house sells under our feet. Lastly, I am praying that the meth lab moved to another neighborhood than the ones we’re looking into… Anyone else out there having problems trying to buy their first house?
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
A voice to the song
Super long time no post. Here’s the deal, I’m trying to find my voice for this blog. I’ve sporadically blogged on livejournal since roughly 2003, with posts ranging from silly commentary, stories and poems to the angst of the day. There was randomly any consistency, or follow-through, as they were little shout-outs from my day. I treated it much like a twitter account, pre-twitter. Of course, there is really nothing wrong with that especially since I was only writing for myself.
For this blog, I am still writing for me. But not the me of today, or really tomorrow, more like the me of five or more years from now. In five years I want to look back and remember who I am today and all the things that got me to the destination of five years in the future. So there will still be a little bit of randomness, cause life is chock full of it, and a little bit of silliness. I might also share a recipe or two, keep in mind that I’m no Pioneer Woman (no matter how much I wish otherwise) and can’t seem to take pictures while trying to prevent dinner from erupting into flames. It’s that hand-eye-coordination thing I lack. I’ll be feeling my way around here for a bit, if you join along for the ride I hope you enjoy it and find something to relate to.
While you’re here share a story. Tell me, how did you find your writing voice?
For this blog, I am still writing for me. But not the me of today, or really tomorrow, more like the me of five or more years from now. In five years I want to look back and remember who I am today and all the things that got me to the destination of five years in the future. So there will still be a little bit of randomness, cause life is chock full of it, and a little bit of silliness. I might also share a recipe or two, keep in mind that I’m no Pioneer Woman (no matter how much I wish otherwise) and can’t seem to take pictures while trying to prevent dinner from erupting into flames. It’s that hand-eye-coordination thing I lack. I’ll be feeling my way around here for a bit, if you join along for the ride I hope you enjoy it and find something to relate to.
While you’re here share a story. Tell me, how did you find your writing voice?
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Opps...
So apparently there is a reason why most recipes tell you to cream the butter with the suger and sift all the dry ingredients prior to combining. Shame on Betty Crocker for not explaining this in their Starlight Yellow Cake recipe and leaving me with clumpy buttery mix.
.... I'm still baking it, who am I turn my nose up at yummy batter? Clumpy or not. We'll see how it goes.
.... I'm still baking it, who am I turn my nose up at yummy batter? Clumpy or not. We'll see how it goes.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
When I first went down to the dirt...
We're trying to buy a house.
When I say trying I mean: We're working up the guts to kiss the asses of the people closest and dearest to us in an attempt to get assistance with a Down payment. Then we will continue trying to buy a house.
When I say continue trying I mean: We'll start looking at houses in person rather than pixel images via the web. Then, we burst our Property Virgin hymens and move on with life. I'm excited and petrified to say the least. More on this later.
When I say trying I mean: We're working up the guts to kiss the asses of the people closest and dearest to us in an attempt to get assistance with a Down payment. Then we will continue trying to buy a house.
When I say continue trying I mean: We'll start looking at houses in person rather than pixel images via the web. Then, we burst our Property Virgin hymens and move on with life. I'm excited and petrified to say the least. More on this later.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Terroize me bubba
Lately I've been getting calls at work from this one company called Capital Express. They first started calling and asking questions about one of our copier/printer combo machines all while posing to be the distributor of our toner. At one point they got the name of the individual who orders our office supplies, and since then they have called every day multiple times in a day. The co-worker told them to stop bugging her, I told them to stop bugging her and mentioned that someone else was handling those supplies. So they started calling every day for that person, before realizing that I wasn't going to put them on the phone with that person and instead started asking for Co-worker A again. It really came to a head today when, after the first call I refused to put them through to Co-worker A or B, they called back posing to be someone else from another company and then directly lied to Co-worker A stating Co-worker B told them to ask for her.
I've dealt with aggressive sales people and telemarketers before, but most of them take the hint of "Our CFO is not available, would you like to leave a message?" and hang-up before they actually leave a message. Whereas with these people, they either call right back or ask "Why can't I talk to them?!" and practically refuse to leave a message. At the start of the conversation they identify themselves in a familiar way as though they were best friends with the CFO and long-time customers. It's very disconcerting and unpleasant. Co-worker A theorized that they're part of an office supply scheme she saw once ten years back, where they get enough info about your copiers, employees, business and then send you $1,000 worth of merchandise. They'll have the name of the employee they talked to, the copier serial number and insist that the order is legit. This is just plain bad business practices and probably illegal. It seriously baffles me, if they're not part of the office supply scheme, how harassing employees makes them think they'll get our business.
Normally I act like a Gatekeeper, mess with me and you'll get a merry-go round of voicemail and "dropped" calls. With these people, it doesn't work. If I could get their number I'd have them reported to the Better Business Bureau in a heartbeat. Got any good tactics that doesn't revert to me chewing them out and breaking things?
I've dealt with aggressive sales people and telemarketers before, but most of them take the hint of "Our CFO is not available, would you like to leave a message?" and hang-up before they actually leave a message. Whereas with these people, they either call right back or ask "Why can't I talk to them?!" and practically refuse to leave a message. At the start of the conversation they identify themselves in a familiar way as though they were best friends with the CFO and long-time customers. It's very disconcerting and unpleasant. Co-worker A theorized that they're part of an office supply scheme she saw once ten years back, where they get enough info about your copiers, employees, business and then send you $1,000 worth of merchandise. They'll have the name of the employee they talked to, the copier serial number and insist that the order is legit. This is just plain bad business practices and probably illegal. It seriously baffles me, if they're not part of the office supply scheme, how harassing employees makes them think they'll get our business.
Normally I act like a Gatekeeper, mess with me and you'll get a merry-go round of voicemail and "dropped" calls. With these people, it doesn't work. If I could get their number I'd have them reported to the Better Business Bureau in a heartbeat. Got any good tactics that doesn't revert to me chewing them out and breaking things?
Monday, June 15, 2009
KERPLUNK!
Lately I've lived my life in a technological bubble, where I can sit on my couch, surf the net, text, call, IM and blog from my fancy phone all while rubbing my hubby's feet. I'm eagerly anticipating the day when I can download the app onto my phone that will rub his feet for me. Saturday I had a true Dorky Girl moment of the kind that I'm fairly well known for in my circle, consider this foreshadowing. I'm seriously tempted to just end this post with a bunch of appropriate emoticons like I might have when I was thirteen.
Occasionally I let my kitchen get so dirty that we are out of clean utensiles and bare counter-space thanks to the mountian of dishes filled with rotting materials. Saturday I reached my breaking point and got my cleaning-on yo, a.k.a.: I just needed a clean bowl to make Artichoke dip for my Step-mom's birthday party and didn't want to think of myself as lazy enough to just wash one dish out of twenty-five so I cleaned the majority of them. I'm more half-assed lazy.
After partialy un-earthing my buried garbage disposal my step-mom called and I took the call while still hovering over the sink. Within a few minutes I lost my shoulder to phone grip on my Blackberry thus allowing it to slide into a crock-pot full of very dirty water. We're talking the kind of dirty water that leaves a stench on your hands and a oily residue on your skin. It was within days of producing a mamilian lifeform out of it's primordial ooze, which concidentially once contained the makings of a peanut-butter chocolate pudding cake. Perhaps this should be researched?
Back to the phone, it sank in mid-call. I made a mad dash to haul it out, and remove the battery before it died a painful death by electrolosis. My super sweet and supportive husband's response?
"Well? What do you expect?!"
Flush a phone on the night of your first kiss and you never hear the end of it... sheesh.
Occasionally I let my kitchen get so dirty that we are out of clean utensiles and bare counter-space thanks to the mountian of dishes filled with rotting materials. Saturday I reached my breaking point and got my cleaning-on yo, a.k.a.: I just needed a clean bowl to make Artichoke dip for my Step-mom's birthday party and didn't want to think of myself as lazy enough to just wash one dish out of twenty-five so I cleaned the majority of them. I'm more half-assed lazy.
After partialy un-earthing my buried garbage disposal my step-mom called and I took the call while still hovering over the sink. Within a few minutes I lost my shoulder to phone grip on my Blackberry thus allowing it to slide into a crock-pot full of very dirty water. We're talking the kind of dirty water that leaves a stench on your hands and a oily residue on your skin. It was within days of producing a mamilian lifeform out of it's primordial ooze, which concidentially once contained the makings of a peanut-butter chocolate pudding cake. Perhaps this should be researched?
Back to the phone, it sank in mid-call. I made a mad dash to haul it out, and remove the battery before it died a painful death by electrolosis. My super sweet and supportive husband's response?
"Well? What do you expect?!"
Flush a phone on the night of your first kiss and you never hear the end of it... sheesh.
Friday, June 12, 2009
... and then
At first I thought that scarfing down a sinful lemon cupcake would be enough to fill my never ending hunger, but sadly I later found myself in the drive-through line at a local Taco Bell ordering enough food to feed a family of five. For our family of two. My belly was rumbling, so as soon as I parked the car I demanded sustenance, which my dear husband took his sweet time on. After much complaining in what was probably three seconds, I received my first crunchy warm taco supreme. Greedily I took a bite and swallowed without really chewing.....
......
......... and ended up with a chunk of taco lodged in my throat. Yes, lodged in my throat. I coughed, drank some soda, swallowed a bunch of times to confirm that there was a taco wedge lodged in my throat. I blinked at my husband, who just continued to search through the bag of food looking for his soft taco supreme (wuss) as though there was nothing wrong. Did he not realize that his wife had a taco wedge lodged in her throat? Sure, maybe I could pass it through, maybe. OR in some stroke of weird, CSI like plot twist I might not swallow it through. Instead it'll sever my trachea* and I'll bleed out internally! My story will be the #355 way to die on 1001 Ways to Die, Death by Taco. Or Death by greedy fat cheeks.
I stared at my husband who kept asking "Where's my taco?" and informed him totally coolly that I had a taco wedge lodged in my throat. His response?
"You can talk, if you can do that you're not dieing." there was an internal dumbass comment in there I'm sure "Drink more soda".
I lived to see the next day, and the sore throat as a result of getting something pointy lodged in my throat. Ouch. Dumbass.
*yea I haven't taken biology in years and haven't taken an Anatomy class yet.. so this likely won't happen.
......
......... and ended up with a chunk of taco lodged in my throat. Yes, lodged in my throat. I coughed, drank some soda, swallowed a bunch of times to confirm that there was a taco wedge lodged in my throat. I blinked at my husband, who just continued to search through the bag of food looking for his soft taco supreme (wuss) as though there was nothing wrong. Did he not realize that his wife had a taco wedge lodged in her throat? Sure, maybe I could pass it through, maybe. OR in some stroke of weird, CSI like plot twist I might not swallow it through. Instead it'll sever my trachea* and I'll bleed out internally! My story will be the #355 way to die on 1001 Ways to Die, Death by Taco. Or Death by greedy fat cheeks.
I stared at my husband who kept asking "Where's my taco?" and informed him totally coolly that I had a taco wedge lodged in my throat. His response?
"You can talk, if you can do that you're not dieing." there was an internal dumbass comment in there I'm sure "Drink more soda".
I lived to see the next day, and the sore throat as a result of getting something pointy lodged in my throat. Ouch. Dumbass.
*yea I haven't taken biology in years and haven't taken an Anatomy class yet.. so this likely won't happen.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Sneaky sneaky
In an attempt to battle the inevitable newlywed 15 pounds, and to finally get healthy, I joined a free diet website. Quick side note here: I hate using the term diet, it has so many negative connotations especially as I'm not obese and could probably get away with what I eat if I exercised more. Partially my issues with using the word diet are ones that I've created on my own and directly a result of my own judgemental inner dialogue. Anyway, I joined the website yesterday and it's been nice to get an idea of how many calories I can pack away. I went over the top end of what I can eat by 166 calories.
Apparently though my effort to curtail my caloric intake was so hard for the one full day I did it that I caved... and ate a cupcake. I'm wishing I took a picture but I devoured it too fast. It was lemon upon lemon with lemon curd filling for good measure. My taste buds did a happy dance, and then a jig. I have no will power, and I have the dirty remnants of lemon buttercream sin on my lips to prove it. Yum.
Good thing there is still tomorrow.
Apparently though my effort to curtail my caloric intake was so hard for the one full day I did it that I caved... and ate a cupcake. I'm wishing I took a picture but I devoured it too fast. It was lemon upon lemon with lemon curd filling for good measure. My taste buds did a happy dance, and then a jig. I have no will power, and I have the dirty remnants of lemon buttercream sin on my lips to prove it. Yum.
Good thing there is still tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Brain-farts
I know I said, to my one reader, that I would write a post about where I want this blog to go. I don't have that post in me today. Instead I give you this:
Most people have clear memories of really great times in their lives, great friends, or arguments that they won with a cleaverly placed comment. Me? I have clear memories of some of the really stupid things I've said. Not so clear on certain memories of great times as for people I cannot for the life of me remember certain people in school that my friends swear were there the whole time. Any of my stupid comments I can't remember, my dear friends are always eager to remind me of.
Stupid comment #1:
In response to getting caught eating the marshmallow's out of a box of Lucky Charms
"I didn't know any better"
Stupid comment #2:
"I think I don't put pepper on my food because the white flakes in pepper must be salt and I've already put salt on my food. So I don't need to double up." this was after intently staring at the pepper shaker and trying to divine it's inner meanings. Btw: the white flakes are actually white pepper. Or so one of my friends claimed.
Stupid comment #3:
"Your End-Dump" think $100,00 worth of 40 ton metal attached to a big-rig that could kill you if it flipped on you/your truck "flipped? Oh that's not good." Ok this one is actually funny in an "understatment of the year" kind of way. Like when you watch a horror film and a character just got bludgened so you pipe up "that'll leave a mark". Funny.
Most people have clear memories of really great times in their lives, great friends, or arguments that they won with a cleaverly placed comment. Me? I have clear memories of some of the really stupid things I've said. Not so clear on certain memories of great times as for people I cannot for the life of me remember certain people in school that my friends swear were there the whole time. Any of my stupid comments I can't remember, my dear friends are always eager to remind me of.
Stupid comment #1:
In response to getting caught eating the marshmallow's out of a box of Lucky Charms
"I didn't know any better"
Stupid comment #2:
"I think I don't put pepper on my food because the white flakes in pepper must be salt and I've already put salt on my food. So I don't need to double up." this was after intently staring at the pepper shaker and trying to divine it's inner meanings. Btw: the white flakes are actually white pepper. Or so one of my friends claimed.
Stupid comment #3:
"Your End-Dump" think $100,00 worth of 40 ton metal attached to a big-rig that could kill you if it flipped on you/your truck "flipped? Oh that's not good." Ok this one is actually funny in an "understatment of the year" kind of way. Like when you watch a horror film and a character just got bludgened so you pipe up "that'll leave a mark". Funny.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Stop looking
This is a note to myself to stop looking at wedding photography blogs. Not just because I'm obessed, but because it reminds me of how cheated I felt by my wedding photographer. There will be a full review once I look fully through the 3400 unedited photos I got...
Next post: What I want out of this blog.
Next post: What I want out of this blog.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
When understanding is difficult...
Tuesday morning we learned that my husband's cousin, who he was very close to, died of unexplained causes on Monday night. He would have been 34 on Tuesday. It's been a rough few days for my husband and for me by proxy. This sounds selfish, I know, as it's not about me and I wasn't the one who lost a loved one. A little background to explain what I'm going to talk about here; my husband is an emotional introvert, I am not, normally when faced with an emotional overload my husband tends to retreat psychically and emotionally. In the past this included disappearing into a bottle of Jack Daniel's Whiskey. A habit he has thankfully kicked for over five months.
It's been a rough few days for me, obviously part of it's because he hurts and therefore I hurt for him as well. Mainly I've been off because of how I would react in a situation like this. As on a basic level I'm more of an emotional extrovert, his introverted tendencies put me on edge. I worry about what's boiling under the surface, what he's not talking about and then selfishly if he's not talking because he doesn't feel like he can open up to me. I try my best banish the last thought from my mind, as again I didn't do anything wrong, and the more I let it bug me the more I'm likely to do something wrong.
My first reaction upon hearing the news was to think of my husband, and how he was feeling. After dealing with him and then getting a reaction I start to think of myself, how I would feel, how does this affect me, how would I react? etc... I don't feel too bad for thinking this way. Simply because in my opinion you can't control how you feel but only how you react. Also in my opinion how I feel is part of a cultural application of the "golden rule" that I grew up with. The "Golden Rule" summed up is: treat others how you wish to be treated. Through watching other relationships, individuals, and myself (note: I am not a psychologist and I have not performed any controlled tests to confirm/deny my hypothesis) I've come to believe that this "golden rule" is applied in a more self-interested role than it was originally intended.
It's been a rough few days for me, obviously part of it's because he hurts and therefore I hurt for him as well. Mainly I've been off because of how I would react in a situation like this. As on a basic level I'm more of an emotional extrovert, his introverted tendencies put me on edge. I worry about what's boiling under the surface, what he's not talking about and then selfishly if he's not talking because he doesn't feel like he can open up to me. I try my best banish the last thought from my mind, as again I didn't do anything wrong, and the more I let it bug me the more I'm likely to do something wrong.
My first reaction upon hearing the news was to think of my husband, and how he was feeling. After dealing with him and then getting a reaction I start to think of myself, how I would feel, how does this affect me, how would I react? etc... I don't feel too bad for thinking this way. Simply because in my opinion you can't control how you feel but only how you react. Also in my opinion how I feel is part of a cultural application of the "golden rule" that I grew up with. The "Golden Rule" summed up is: treat others how you wish to be treated. Through watching other relationships, individuals, and myself (note: I am not a psychologist and I have not performed any controlled tests to confirm/deny my hypothesis) I've come to believe that this "golden rule" is applied in a more self-interested role than it was originally intended.
Example #1: I feel that my husband is hiding things and not opening up, which I can find hurtful. Why? Personally I would be explaining how I feel in the reversed position and expect him to treat me the same way.
Example # 2: Friend A wants to throw a surprise birthday party for her husband, who is very anti-social (not in a Serial-killer way) and would hate a party. Why? Friend A really wants her husband to throw her a surprise party, and hopes that by throwing him one he'll return the favor.
Example #3: Person D purchases their sister a book that they've been eyeing for months. Why? Person D wants to read the book and can justify purchasing it only if it's meant for a gift.
What I'm getting at is this: We see things through our own eyes, experience only our own experiences, and sometimes it can be hard to relate to someone who reacts; sees and experiences different than we do. There's nothing wrong with how you initially feel, it's all in how you react. ..... that would be a D- essay right there probably.
Anyway: Go call your loved ones up, tell them you love them, apologise for something insignificant if you need to, take the blame if it'll get the lines of communication open if they're closed, don't take them for granted, and just drop a line to say "hello, thinking about you". At the least, it'll make someones day and sometimes that's all you can do.Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Size of Schnauzers
I really meant to update daily, and even do a funny post (a.k.a. I think I'm sooo funny and need to subject the interweb to me posts) today. But sadly I have a gawdawful sinus headache, and just learned of a death in my husband's family. So you will have to be entertained by:
Enjoy! This has been playing through my head ever since last Wednesday when my boss decided to start singing it and playing it on his computer.
Enjoy! This has been playing through my head ever since last Wednesday when my boss decided to start singing it and playing it on his computer.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Meow
So I got a kitten,
Who smells of poo,
Wooo,
He's black and white,
and speckled all over,
With no name,
But a pechant to whine
Oooh I have a kitten,
Wooo
Who smells of poo,
Wooo,
He's black and white,
and speckled all over,
With no name,
But a pechant to whine
Oooh I have a kitten,
Wooo
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
In one sentance...
Sometimes he just looks at me and says something normally insignificant, yet in that instance it defines a feeling I shared, and in that moment I think “Wow, we’re really going to make it.”
Monday, May 11, 2009
And then we shall blabber
When diarrhea of the mouth strikes: In a comment to a photo of my husband’s grandparents cruise along the Panama Canal six years ago, they stopped in Belize where we had our honeymoon and wanted to share, I uttered the words “Wow (insert grandmother’s name) that’s a Bow-chicka-wow-wow look your husbands giving you in that photo!” Apparently my husband did not find it as funny as I did and was morally offended on the behalf of his “old-fashioned” grandmother. In my defense, her husband was laying down on the bed in their room aboard the cruise ship, in a semi curled position. It’s actually a joke I would have said to either of my grandmother’s and still fail to see the big deal about it. But out of respect for my husband’s family… I’m going to try and keep a better watch on my mouth.
My true verbal diarrheal issue came when I almost blurted out “gang-bang” in a joke to my new mother-inlaw, her sister and my husband’s sister. That would have been an epic fail.
My true verbal diarrheal issue came when I almost blurted out “gang-bang” in a joke to my new mother-inlaw, her sister and my husband’s sister. That would have been an epic fail.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Dorky girl experiment # 1
I love coffee. Some mornings I don't feel like myself till a sip of caffeine goodness has passed through my lips and there are days were the caffeine has to be issued in regular doses throughout the day. When I returned to work from my honeymoon I came back to a grave realization that there was no coffee and the creamer shortage we'd been experiencing was still in full swing. After spending two days making excursions out to a local coffee shop, and purchasing my frilly, expensive but oh so sweet and wonderful coffee confections I determined that it was not an expense I could keep up. So I buckled and brought in some grounds from my own stash. Everyone rejoiced, and the first cup was great. The first sip into the second cup reminded me of my love for creamer. Or milk, when I'm cheap and it's closest.
We were out though and I really did need something to break up the pitch black coffee. So I thought, "hey, I brought some yogurt in for breakfast. It's dairy, so it'll work right? Yogurt's just milk... right?" So I said what the heck and threw in two-three globs of the yogurt, stirred it up and watched the results. At first it was ok. The yogurt broke up in the coffee into little carmel colored granules adding the illusion of creamer to my coffee. It also added a kind of cool vanilla yogurt aftertaste to my coffee. Of course I had to boast about my accomplishment, which was when things turned downhill. I first noticed that the "yogurt layer" was staying near the bottom of the cup and hiding under a layer of black coffee. Then I saw the chunks at the bottom. Which completely ruined the whole thing. There's clearly an in-grained survivalist knowledge that tells me that chunks of a dairy product is not a good thing.
Aren't the chunks attractive? Apparently not all dairy is created equal.
We were out though and I really did need something to break up the pitch black coffee. So I thought, "hey, I brought some yogurt in for breakfast. It's dairy, so it'll work right? Yogurt's just milk... right?" So I said what the heck and threw in two-three globs of the yogurt, stirred it up and watched the results. At first it was ok. The yogurt broke up in the coffee into little carmel colored granules adding the illusion of creamer to my coffee. It also added a kind of cool vanilla yogurt aftertaste to my coffee. Of course I had to boast about my accomplishment, which was when things turned downhill. I first noticed that the "yogurt layer" was staying near the bottom of the cup and hiding under a layer of black coffee. Then I saw the chunks at the bottom. Which completely ruined the whole thing. There's clearly an in-grained survivalist knowledge that tells me that chunks of a dairy product is not a good thing.
Aren't the chunks attractive? Apparently not all dairy is created equal.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
In response to a demand to "Worship me!!"
But I can’t worship you, I worship too many things as it is. You know things like, chocolate, sleep, TV, blogs, coffee, satirical writing, bad fanfiction and etc... If I throw you into the mix I’m just going to get confused. I’ll start trying to sacrifice chocolate to the TV and writing really angsty love stories to my coffee.
Starting out
This is just another dorky girl here logging on, signing up, beaming in, blasting out, speaking out loud in written textulation of my daily actions and thoughts. Expect the ride to be... adventursome and chaulk full of spelling errors, gramatical missteps and made-up words.
Ces't Le Vie, eh?
Ces't Le Vie, eh?
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