Heartwarming crowds

Usually, I feel quite ill at things like graduation services, weddings, and anything that includes unnecessary pomp and circumstance.  I know I'm supposed to feel pride and warmth from being a part of some phenomenal occasion like seeing 18 years old shipped off to the real world and seeing two people blend their lives forever.  But I don't. I usually see awkward little kids dressed up like adults, pretending they're capable of impressive, life changing decisions.  (Both for weddings and graduations!)

Today I voted.  And I felt the warmth.  We were all bundled (or as bundled as you get in Tucson in November) at 5.45 a.m., with a line wrapped around the small church that we were assigned to.  We were all shivering from the cold and the excitement.  And none of us knew what the hell we were doing.  The people running the sha-bang had changed everything since last time around and they were not expecting there to be a least a hundred eager voters waiting for them before the polls opened.  We were bumbling into each other, jumping into the wrong lines, and looking excitedly at the sample polls plastered on the walls.  But we were all happy to be there.  There were no lunchroom political debates.  No one was pushing or loudly proclaiming who should really be the next prez.  We were all just happy to be there and be a part of it.  Who knows how this exciting day will end?  

All I know is I finally got the warm and fuzzies from an event; I didn't hate everyone there!  We were all doing something good, even if we were all voting in opposition of each other.  We were all just glad to see other people who cared... about anything... about anything important.  I was not in sparse company and I felt warm this (relatively) cold November morning before dawn.

Things I heart

I usually have complaints up here (rants, whatever). I thought I would (should) put up some things that I enjoy.

I am currently loving:
-politics
Everybody is so into everything. I feel no apathy around me at all. Isn't that a nice feeling? Everyone is reading the newspaper, watching the news... Even my students are locked into Channel One, wondering what's going to happen in the world. My email inbox has been flooded with links to articles and video with need-to-know information. I'm just glad we all care. It makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

-etsy.com
I think I have found almost all my Christmas presents already thanks to etsy.com. I love it. Anything you want to find - it's there. And let's just pretend it isn't there - someone will make it for you. On the cheap and on the double.

-fall
The desert doesn't have any of the things I love about fall. But Trader Joe's does. I will find my cider, my pumpkin butter, and my cinnamon applesauce. I leave early enough in the morning that I am chilly. Fall is here, desert - whether you like it or not. I also am nearing the month countdown to going to the Midwest for Thanksgiving. Who knew I'd be so pumped about the Midwest?! Well, I am. Leaves, brisk cold, woodsmoke, family, turkey... Sigh.

-my brother
He's 30! He's old now, I think... which means I only have a few years left! But as we tried frantically to get emails and phone calls through to each other, I realized I have some good family.

-girls' nights out
I have a bit of a girls' night out planned for this evening. Pumped. I need social life. I might be working on that.

-the library
I asked them for some magazines to help me with my persuasion quarter. I have over 100 specially picked out magazines waiting for me to pick up. How awesome is that?

Okay, so it's not that many things. But still. Warm and fuzzy, my friends. That's how I feel.

Vacay

Vacation is bliss.

The 'rents came to visit. Bliss. Shopping, beer, guns, sandwiches, talking, wine, driving. Perfect.

Now we're back home. My agenda today is to let the hubby sleep until he wakes up on his own (this may be a week-long project) and to play as many video games (while taking breaks to play with my puppy) as possible.

I repeat, vacation is bliss.

We may be moving the camping extravaganza to early November, so we don't bake (oh, desert) and so that we can continue this nothingness. It's very, very nice.

p.s.

Everyone is boring.

I've been having my quarter-life crisis, albeit a year late. Assuming I live to be 100. Which I will because I drink red wine.

I'd like to be a writer, but I have nothing interesting to say. I can apparently fill years of a blog with the nothings of my life, but so what? I feel like every blog out there has similar musings of everyday life. What? I'm so rare? By random search, I can find 3,000 other blogs by 20-something women trying to "figure it all out." In print form, we call this chick lit, mostly distinguishable by it's pink, black, and white pallet on the bookshelves of Borders. Throw a diamond on that cover and you've got yourself a bestseller.

I'd like to keep being a teacher, (and I probably will) but I wish it meant something. I like to think of myself rather like Dr. Kelso on Scrubs. I am understandably and effectively a bit distant from my job. I perform better if I'm not worried about feelings, especially those of children. What is best for people is often not pleasant or kind, so I try more to be fair and helpful. All that being said, wouldn't it be great if teaching really was a noble career? It'd be great if I came home everyday and pondered the fragility of youth and my impact on our future world. Instead, I fear for the world that these children's children (unfortunately not far off, most likely) will create. I remember that even on my best days, I am just these kids' English teacher. They will not, and should not, live out their days remembering my class as their halcyon days of youth or as the beginning of their intellectual journeys. Looking back, if forced, I can remember some of my high school teachers. Some of them were phenomenal teachers. But that's about as far as it goes.

Honestly, I didn't want to be best friends with my teachers and I was never in the market for a mentor. I can't see that as my purpose in my career now. I am busy enough trying to force the kids, kicking and screaming, to exceed on their standardized tests. Here's hoping I will.

But.

What if I came home, knowing that I had changed the world forever?

I'd like to be a lawyer. But isn't it the same damn thing? You spend all your time on work (grading papers or legal briefs) that no one ever reads. You spend your time fighting for people (students/criminals/business executives) that won't appreciate it.

I'd like to be a scientist. I could change the world. But for reals. What if I set up the first Earthling habitat on Mars? But it's too late. I suck at math and I hate not being social. There's too much to catch up on in the world of science and who would put me in charge of setting up a new world? No labs for me.

I'd like to be a farmer, but I've got no land and no idea how to, you know, farm.

I'd like to make furniture, but ditto.

I'd like to have a career, a passion, a purpose in life. But instead, I have to spend all my time working and paying bills. Count that out, deduct for time needed sleeping, pooping, and eating (not all at once, people), and what do you have left? Time for a sitcom and a walk for the dog.

I shouldn't complain. Life is working out well. I have a wonderful husband, dog, apartment, and job. I can pay my bills on time and afford the occasional present for myself (Pumpkin Spice Latte, anyone?). I am winning the game of life. It just turns out the trophy isn't so shiny.

Though I'd like to pretend these are somehow philosophical, unique ramblings - they're not. Go search those other 3,000 blogs or those pink shelves at Borders and you'll find the same thing: Whine, whine, what does it all mean, whimper, ... oh diamonds! Even the phrase "there is nothing new under the sun" is biblically old.

Fight Club, Garden State, Punchdrunk Love, About Schmidt, The Great Gatsby - they're all the same. They're great movies and books that say the same thing. "What's it all for?" And no one knows.

Me too.

While this may all seem depressing, I've reached a Zen calm about it. It's nice to know that no one else knows what the hell they're doing either. I've said it before without knowing how true it is: maturity is nothing more than getting better at pretending that you know what you're doing. We're all just wandering around, bumbling, stumbling.

I've decided to enjoy the bustle and see how far I end up from here when it's all over.

I'm missing something

If it wasn't so creepy, I'd take a picture of what's going on outside my window. My apartment complex is having a Fire Safety party. No, I'm serious. There were posters taped on all our doors last week about how there would be "Free food and fire safety!" I did not amp up the same way the rest of my neighbors apparently did.

Now, don't get me wrong; I like my apartment complex. I am pleased to have moved out of my ghetto existence over two months ago. (Time flies, by the by.) Usually, like now, a group of kids plays soccer in the grassy area outside my window. It's nice to finally have the sound of conversations, children's laughter, and puppies barking near where I live again.

However.

I don't understand why there are balloons, food, and (most importantly) more than 50 people on my grassy area listening to fire safety. A fireman, one can only assume, is standing demonstrating the equipment and handing out informational brochures. And people are taking them! And listening! If I could only get that kind of enthusiasm in my classroom...

Again, I am approximately two years from being the old, crotchety woman who looks out her window muttering, "Oh my; oh my." Maybe I'm just anti-social. Maybe they're all just pumped for an opportunity to hang out, eat free food, and make their kids unafraid of the Darth Vader-esque firefighters. Maybe.

Or maybe I just moved into Crazytown, USA.

Either way, Happy Fire Safety Day!

This just in

I just saw the headline, "Britney seen rehearsing!"

Um, hi.  My name is Annika and I do my job everyday.  When do I get my news story?  Better grab the paper; Annika went to work today!  

On that note, it's almost our two week break.  I can feel the wait in the students and the staff.  One more week, one more week, one more week... It's the local mantra.  Also my 'rents are coming to visit in one more week, one more week.  

I'm pumped.  

You know, you know

I just wanted to update the blog world of my life because you must be depressed without more info on my life. I mean, honestly. I'm pretty cool.

I dislike Whole Foods. I dislike them like I dislike Bookman's. It's all a lie. Used bookstores are my haven. I love used bookstores. It's where book lovers go to trade books. It smells like book must (musk?) and there are gems and it's cheaper. Bookman's is a bookstore that pretends to be a used bookstore and charges you way more for goods that no one wants. I get that you have 75 copies of The Bell Jar. I'm sure the university makes kids buy it and they all sell it to Bookman's. But that's not the point, is it? I could buy classics from amazon.com. I go to a used bookstore to be enlightened. Don't try to fool me with your anti-censorship posters, your emo kids, and crappy posters I can buy for a quarter. Why don't you have books and why is your store a suck-hole of love?

Whole Foods is the same. I shop at Trader Joe's. They have cheap organic food with few to no preservatives. I can pronouce every ingredient on most packages. I can drink their $5 bottle of wine and not want to burn off my own tongue. In fact, I will seek out that bottle of wine because it's my favorite. And I've had $50 bottles of New Zealand Pinot Noir. Ask my dad. That was good wine.

Whole Foods pretends to be that store of organic love. But they also sell lies. They have some oil that I'm supposed to put in my tea that will make me feel less guilty about my life. No, seriously. That was on the bottle. If that's on your bottle and you charge me ten bucks for it, I no longer believe your store motto. You probably sell hippie crap that is not organic, not made in America, and is twice as expensive as stuff that is. I felt dirty for even going to Whole Foods and immediately drove to Trader Joe's to reverse my bad karma.

Some good news however: Kids still watch The Simpsons. I know! I was surprised too. I showed part of the episode where they parody Lord of the Flies to my sophomores today. I asked who watched The Simpsons and it still holds a sacred spot in their hearts. This is especially impressive because I would have assumed that nothing was sacred to teenagers. It's a smart show that makes some smart jokes; (wait for it...) and my kids understood them! It warmed my cold, frigid heart in a way that children haven't for quite some time.

Lastly, IKEA is still awesome. Bought a new bed and some nightstands and my life looks like an adult might lead it. Amazing the different a few hundred bucks can make. I've moved out of the ghetto and now the inside of my apartment looks non-ghetto as well.

I am still addicted to string cheese. It's kind of a problem.

That's all for now.

I'm feeling ornery

I'm not sure what's got into my mood today, but I'm not feeling my typical sunny self. Instead of narrative, you get a list of things that bothers me today. Enjoy.

1. "How's married life?" Now, I don't mind when people who I know ask me this. That's a fair question. Typically, I answer in my characteristically sassy way, "Pretty much the same as living-in-sin life only with tax breaks!" But I don't like the assumptions that go along with being married, especially when those assumptions are made by people I don't really know. At the bank today, I deposited a check. To clarify who I was, my teller said, "You're joint on Jeffrey's account?" Well, no. Joint sort of implied that there is no status difference - it's our account. However, if you want to have specifics, it has been my account since I was sixteen. I'm the one with awesome credit, and the wonderful bank loyalty. He jumped on my account less than two years ago, but seeing as how he does have Mr. in front of his name, I can see how you would assume that he's the one who allows me to use his money. I didn't say that though. I said, "Okay. Yes, that's me." Then I had to go to the gynecologist for a checkup. I've never had a problem with anyone at this office or anything, but today, the lady said to me, shocked, "You've never had ANY pregnancies?" I looked at her a bit funny and told her no. I figured I might have accidentally worn my "Hello, my name is Promiscuous Patty" name tag, but then she followed up with, "I mean... you ARE married, aren't you?" Well, by God. No one told me that I had to get knocked up within three months of my wedding. And how dare I wear a wedding band without ever having had a baby. I was a good girl, though, and just said, "Yes. I am married. No pregnancies." They should give you a pamphlet when you get married so that you can know these things.
2. The freaks at the library. This summer, I have been on a reading frenzy. Picture a starved person at Thanksgiving dinner. I haven't had a chance to read and I go to the library to get stacks of books. I'm there a lot. There are some people that stand in front of the library asking for signatures for some petition. It could be a very nice petition - perhaps even on an issue that I care about. However, they are worse than anything I have ever seen. There is no sign, no packet of information, no explanation of who they are. Instead, they yell at everyone walking in and out of the library, "Are you a registered voter in Pima County?" I mean it; they yell this at every person, even if they are already talking to someone else about their petition. I am against this whole tactic, but more so, I am upset that it is still going on. I politely lie to them, and say, "No sorry!" every time. I am just a nice person going to the library to get some books. Why must I be harassed every time? I am very, very close to explaining in excruciating detail to these people what is wrong with their tactics and their methodology, but I keep biting my tongue. Today, when I politely lied, the guy said, "Really? Or do just not want to be bothered?!" I was stunned. Now I have to validate myself? I gave him the teacher stink eye, shook my head, and kept walking, but I think I only encouraged him.

Okay, I guess it's just those two things, but I feel like they're big. I will now watch reruns of Gilmore Girls and eat Cherry Garcia ice cream to soothe my wounded pride.

The end of this apartment

Move out day is finally approaching. Though it'd be nice if it weren't in the worst heat in the year, it'd be better, but I am just happy to be getting out.

Yesterday, we were scheduled to have our annual apartment inspection. They came an hour late (not even an hour late for my scheduled time - it was an hour after inspection hours were over for the whole building) and almost caught me in the shower. I started the list of things wrong with my apartment: rotting insides of the dishwasher, running toilet, air filters that hadn't been cleaned since we moved in a year and a half ago, weekly clogging of the drain in the shower, broken towel rack in the bathroom, etc. The lady looks at me and says, "Is your shower leaking?" I said, "Um, no. I waited until the cut off time to take my shower. So I just took my shower." Awkwardly long pause. "So... um, that's why it's wet?"

She assured me that they would put a work order in for this leaky shower business right away. I sighed, thanked them, and let them out of the apartment. I am so excited to move out. I am also excited to buy more furniture from IKEA. Such bliss.

In an oddly connected way, I now need a new wardrobe. As I have been slowly chipping myself away for 6 months here, nothing fits me well anymore. Since we're moving, I just got rid of everything that didn't have a future. That leaves me with one pair of capris and some tshirts (unless I'm wearing dresses or dressing up every day - by the way, it's triple digits every day now). I decided to own this aspect of myself and roll with the white trash. I bought a 6 pack of v-neck white tshirts, old man style. Now I wear one of these with the capris everyday.

(Part of this is exaggerated. I don't wear the same thing every day. I switch it up and I will wear a skirt and heels just for a change of pace. Also, I don't do anything in the summer. I go to the gym and the library. If I go out to eat or something, then I dress up, but why bother otherwise? It just occurred to me that the boy must love me in summer.)

Now that we're moving to a place that I don't fear or loathe the neighbors, it's probably not best to look like I'm wearing the same clothes everyday. School is coming up soon though, and I do so love back-to-school clothes shopping!

The boy's birthday

Well, it was the boy's birthday... a while ago. I am bad with staying up to date, apparently. Regardless, he is now 26. That means that I will be 26 in a couple weeks here. When did that happen?!

Just to keep you informed on my life lately: read, gym, nap, play Sims, sleep, start over. Seriously, kiddos, it's feast or famine over here. Either I am working way too hard or mind-numbingly bored. What can you do?

The only upcoming event is that we will be moving to a better apartment at the end of the month. We will have more than one bedroom! We will have a kitchen and a dining nook! We have arrived.

Maybe. :)

Holy crap!

Through the beauty of things like facebook and myspace, I get to freely spy on people I used to know pretty well. There are people in life that you went to the same parties as or were peripheral in their circle of friends or vice versa. I always wonder what happened to these people. Some of this could be the cabin fever of summer vacay. Whatever.

I am shocked that we are the people with jobs and children and spouses. In my spying of the last few minutes, I had to drop my jaw and say, "Holy mother of God, he's got a wife now?" or "I'm sorry; she has what job?!" When did the guy who routinely puked on the back porch get a job in politics? When did the girl who I would have sworn had several STDs get a normal looking husband, job, house, and matching babies?

How did we all make it? I mean, I had my wild side back in the day too. I have since mellowed and am now entrusted to mold young lives. Maybe these kids all just had a similar wild streak. I assume that no one is now saying, "What do you mean I'm wrong? I challenge you to a game of flippy cup!" or "Well, let's see how you play beruit with my house rules!" These people have probably all grown up too. But when did that happen?

I have to connect this to my job of working with children. I hope that they all grow up before they have responsibilities, but there are no such guarantees. Maybe we all just do this? Maybe we all grow out of it? Who's to say that these people don't just put normal pictures up on myspace and they choose not to advertise doing kegstands with baby.

I'm just saying it makes me re-evaluate my views of important people. I bet they had their hair held back a good many times too.

I'm a feminist now.

The process is basically over and just starting all at the same time. My name is officially changed. I sat for over an hour in the social security office, during office hours naturally, and sat through well over another hour in the DMV. While these things are always a joy, it definitely got my anti-men hackles raised.

Don't get me wrong. I dig men. I dig my man in particular. I never even had an experimental girl phase in college though I was in a sorority. (More male stereotypes...) Normally, I just figure that I personally don't have it that bad and that most women I know don't have it that bad. There are bigger political fish to fry.

But...

Why did I have to sit in the freakin' DMV and social security office while the hubster did nothing? Again, this isn't against him. It's not his fault, and in his defense, he was working hard at work. ... You know, like I'd be doing if I had any job but teaching. Where is a woman supposed to get this time off? I would have needed to do the social security office thing first anyway because they need to do security clearance that takes several days before you can change your license. So are they just assuming that I can take two days off of work to do this or are they just assuming that I don't have a job?

To be fair, no one forced me to change my name. To be more fair, you can mail this stuff in and it will take several more weeks than I ended up taking. But when you've got hours to wait in line to change your name, a girl's got some time to think.

I've only had a couple "real" instances of gender discrimination. Most of those were when I worked at Fleet Farm in the automotive department and I handled those fine because in the end, I know that I am knowledgeable, smart, and good at most jobs I've had (including that one!). I had no insecurities. Maybe this one bothers me because I didn't have to do it. I was the one following an old, old tradition. Who can I really be mad at?

The moral of the story is that I'm not sure who I'm mad at, but I didn't like waiting in those lines. And I'm pretty sure I was there because I have a vagina. That's the same as feminism, right?

Insomnia rears its ugly head again

Insomnia has always plagued my life. It's been really bad the past few days/nights. I am adhering to the philosophy that when I'm tired, I'll sleep. Of course, I've been tired for days...

Anyway, I am going to update on what I've been seeing and reading. I finally have the chance to catch up a little on things, and I wanted to do reviews. Because everyone cares what I think.

Okay, this movie was awesome. I love Tiny Fey and anything she does. I thought Mean Girls was a new kind of movie and I dig it. This one is fun and intelligent too. But Amy Poehler is surprising me. I don't know if I just didn't notice her before, but she's super funny! And pretty in this photoshopped picture, too. Seriously, she has a banging body, but I never noticed before.

Regardless, this movie has allowed me some new favorite one liners and had me actually laughing uncontrollably in a movie theater which hasn't happened in a while. It's not "good" the whole way through, but it's a good comedy and those are pretty rare these days.



Naturally and of course, I saw the SatC movie. I loved it. Again, I don't know that it was "good" in a quality sense, but I think it captured perfectly what the audience wanted. Also, I was hysterically and uncontrollably crying in a theater which hasn't happened for a while either. My stifled hysterics reminded me of my seeing Titanic when I was young and impressionable. Now, that's some crying, my friend.

On a side note though, I wanted to see if Greg Behrendt (sp?) was a writer on the movie too. He's the guy who wrote the line, "He's just not that into you" which has become a national phenomenon as far as lines from shows go. They don't show writers on the end credits. Is that a crime? I mean, this movie that was the epitome and the end of SatC wrenched a few souls out there, not just mine. And I don't get to know who wrote it? It's sacrilege.

Regardless, I was more than pleased. I mean, this is like when the make comic book movies and all the nerds freak out. I was the queen of the analogous nerds and I didn't hate it at all.

Also, I'll say this: I don't frequently feel connected to the universe or to people around me. Things like graduations and other similar ceremonies make me notice the pomp and circumstance (pun sort of intended) of such situations. Who cares? Why are we all here walking in a line across a stage? But I had a feeling of connectedness as I waited to see this movie and as I sat there with a bunch of people spellbound during the movie. There were girls dressed to the nines, excited to have an occasion to wear those freakin' Gladiator heels that are so in. There were gay guys loudly ranting about their Cosmos they had before the movie. But there were also tattooed biker chicks and seemingly heterosexual males that weren't dragged there (like my hubs - who will admit to liking the show anyway). There were kids, there were grandmas and grandpas. People of all kinds felt this show and these characters like I did. It was like being in line for the last Harry Potter book -- you just feel connected to an idea and a communicated truth and it was super. Warm and fuzzy and all that. :)




Now, to switch modes entirely, the hubs is making me watch Oz from beginning to end. I kid you not, this show haunts my dreams. We just finished the first season and it's the most disturbing thing I have ever seen. Seeing people pushed to extremes is sad and harsh. I don't even know what to say about it because I feel like I don't want to give away plot, but realize I am apparently the only person in America to have never seen this show and it's like ten years old.

The characters are well portrayed; some of the people I know now from other things but I can't like them anymore. The dad from Juno? He's a meanie rapist.

I mean, this is where I am: can you imagine being someone's butt rape slave? Because I can't. I waited an entire season to see this guy lash out and react, to stick up for himself, to do something, anything to stop what was happening to him. And when he did? Seriously, I had nightmares. It wasn't good to see him go crazy. He's just a crazy, broken man. Seeing people broken and battered and left alone is sad.

It also reminds me of high school. Not so much the butt rape part, as the forced roles that affect the rest of your life and weird arbitrary rules that are clearly meant to break your spirit, but isn't that the same thing?

Regardless, I have to keep watching because the hubs loves it and I made him watch the whole series of Sex and the City and frequently make him watch feminine crap, but man-oh-man. It's rough and reminds me of what HBO used to be.




I finally finished reading this monster of a book at about 4 today. You know how there are books where you almost slow down reading at the end because you want the book to keep going? This is not one of those books. It's good, don't get me wrong. There's some great imagery and a poetic sense of wrapping histories together to create the one relevant one. But... I mean, there's only one relevant story, right? I just feel like I didn't need the 250+ preceding years of history of this one character's family and multiple national sociopolitical histories to get the story.

Again, it's beautiful. It ends well which is critical for me. I recommend it, but I couldn't read it during the school year because I had a job and reading this thing was like a second job. Most people already have a job, so this book wouldn't be ideal. :) It does make me want to read Virgin Suicides (same author) because I do like his writing style and I hear that one isn't 700 pages (a slight exaggeration... slight).

One phrase: the emperor has no clothes. This was the worst movie ever. This could be because I just didn't get it. I had that moment. I knew it won awards and was "awesome" and kids and adults liked it. I was watching and thought, "Man, what is the point of all this?" I quickly hushed myself because many, many people thought it was important and vital and moving. Then I realized it was totally an emperor has no clothes situation. I kept waiting. Was there a moral? Am I supposed to like any of the characters? Am I supposed to hate them? But I just never got there. I ended up waiting for the (in)famous "I drink your milkshake" line and even then, I had built it up too much.

In the end, I wish I hadn't bothered. I can summarize the movie for you. Daniel Day Lewis basically is mean and says "I'm an oil man" a lot and then figuratively (apparently) drinks another man's milkshake. The end.

I guess I've seen other things and read a bunch of books recently. But I realize these reviews aren't good, and are more insomniac rants about things I've seen. That's no good. :) I'm going to go to bed and wait for sleep to come. It is 5am after all and I successfully wasted an hour in rambling at you.

Updates

My nosering is finito. I was over it. Now I need to do something drastic to my hair; I feel too boring.

I have officially begun the official name change process. At least the social security office has now crossed Jorgensen off my records forever. Weird.

Smoothies are my new obsession, so if you have a Magic Bullet (the blender, not anything dirty) friendly recipe, send it my way.

I got some new cute shoes. They are colorful heels. Now I have something to wear to the SatC movie.

Peace out, my friends.

My dog crapped on my Memorial Day... but more so my car.

I wanted to go to the Grand Canyon this weekend. It turns out that although it is in the same state, it is super far away. Gas is expensive, etc. Instead, the fam (ha, we're a fam!) decided to go to Mt. Lemmon to go on a hike instead. For those of you who are familiar, don't make fun. For those of you who aren't, it's totally the same as the Grand Canyon. Totally.

The drive up is a pretty one. The biosphere literally changes from rocks and heat to cool weather and evergreens. It's only about thirty miles up, but the whole world changes. Usually, my dog, my man, and I enjoy the scenery. This time, Tiko the dog changed everything.

He was very excited to be going anywhere. Life was pretty crazy there for a while and he probably spent more time in the crate than good puppy parents would allow. Now, I've gotten off school and Tiko doesn't need to be in the crate. [One of my side goals for the summer is to get him trained enough not to have to be in the crate while we're away. We'll see. Last time, he ate two books, pooped on them, and then spread it around the living room. That took him about 15 minutes. It might be a long, long journey to freedom for us both.] However, apparently, my company and our tiny apartment isn't enough to keep Tiko from going crazy. We could sense his cabin fever and he could sense we were going somewhere fun.

We walked him before we left, I swear. He peed and everything. Then, about ten minutes from where we were planning on walking him, he started desperately trying to get in the front seat. [He's too big to fit on either of our laps now, so he lives in the back.] I remember saying something like, "Don't be annoying, Tiko. We're almost there." And then about three minutes later, I smelled it. Sick baby poo. You know what I mean.

Since Tiko has a sensitive stomach, I assumed foul play. Sometimes he eats random stuff he finds on the ground and it doesn't bode well for anyone. So I hoped that he had had a desperate situation and it was just life. Nope. Perfectly healthy poo except that it was about half his weight. Just to clarify, huge mounds of poo covered a good portion of my backseat.

We got to the general store that's most of the way up the mountain just a few minutes later, though the smell made it seem quite a bit longer. We bought some carpet cleaner and paper towels and found that our little puppy was just fine. No problems. He just didn't want to wait any more. In fairness to him, he didn't know how much longer we were driving; maybe he held it as long as he could.

After the cleanup was conducted, we realized it was a frigid 65 degrees out (we have become Arizonians) and we were too cold and ill prepared for such a cold hike anyway. The air was let out of our sails.

On the way home, I thought it'd be fun to look at some of the really expensive houses that are in the foothills of the mountains. I was wrong. A psycho had a psycho dog (fitting, really) that attacked my car mid-Y-turn. I have little puppy scratches all over my car now and I really want to sue, but I feel it would be fruitless.

I have a black car with scratches on it and poop stank stuck inside it. I have a black car. In Arizona. In summer. I am sure that will smell fine in a matter of moments. In the meantime, I have bought a car-specific bottle of Febreeze to spray each and every time I am in the car. Now it just smells like Febreeze and dog poop.

I feel like there's probably a moral in there somewhere, but I'm too stinky to find it.

I am sure I am That Girl to someone

I was watching Sex and the City last night. [As a premature sidenote, I am going to watch all of SatC before the movie comes out on the 30th. Is it trite? Is everyone loving that show, that movie, those women right now? Yes. And I am one of them. That show will always represent to me the time of all my girls being in one room, armed with bottles of mostly crappy wine and watching in utter silence (this is me and my friends, mind you) as these women said true things to us. We were young, we were impressionable, we were hooked. I look back now and wonder: Did we realize what a horrible, selfish friend Carrie was? Did I always know how much of a catch Steve was? Did I always know that Aidan was obviously too good for Carrie? I don't know. But it's still a true picture of a true time of learning and relationships and too many drinks. I will unabashedly always love the show and the characters even if they are flawed and represent too much unnecessary female stereotypes. Love. It.]

I was watching the episode that included Charlotte's perfect man who happened to be The Face Licker. It got me thinking and I couldn't help but wonder (take that, Carrie Bradshaw), haven't we all been The Somebody who Something-ed? In my friend circle history, I know of Hickey Bob (we'll call him Bob), The Po-Po Man (so named for getting caught by the police while making out with my friend in his truck), Ghetto Fab, and The Guy who Pees on People.

Now, I'm not saying that I have done anything so infamous as pee on anybody. But we've all had our moments, haven't we? Isn't there that one night where you got a little too drunk (it always starts out that way) and did something a bit stupid, even for you when you're drunk? I know that my friend infamously and unfortunately threw up on a keg while doing a kegstand once. Is she forever known in someone's life as The Puker?

What names and notoriety have I gained amongst those I don't even remember meeting? For me, it was an unfortunate evening that true friends don't bring up often. In someone else's mind, it's the funniest thing that's ever happened.

I am sure I am a legend to some.

Summer Lovin'

I am loving summer. I realize that my vacation has been in action for less than a normal weekend. I realize that Arizona gets to unreasonably hot temperatures in summer.

However.

I am so happy to be on vacation! The weather is unseasonably cool right now, meaning we didn't even hit 80 today! It's gorgeous out, I love all the fruits and vegetables that are all available right now, and most of all, I just feel like I'm on holiday. Isn't that half the battle?

I've almost finished the first book on my summer reading list. I have caught myself up on dishes and laundry (though not cleaning or organizing), I've tried a few new wines, and I even went to a movie and didn't feel like I was going to fall asleep halfway through the first preview. That's probably because I slept a ridiculous quantity yesterday. Seriously. I had the nice 9 hours of sleep and took two separate naps yesterday. I have some serious catching up to do.

Summer is already awesome and I can't wait for it to be day three of vacay.

The professional pictures...

Did I forget to mention I got married?

Sorry, guys! Here I am, rambling about graduation ceremonies that have nothing to do with me when I forget to mention that one ceremony that means a great deal in my life. We got hitched! ... Almost three weeks ago? Well, well. I'm an old, married woman already.

Here are some pictures; there are tons more on facebook, if we're tight like that.

My brother and my - gasp - husband! (By the way, the pictures are all messed up in order because I still don't understand blogger's "insert picture" function and am too stubborn to learn.)

The girlies and the bro-town enjoying some drinks at the reception.

Our very large faces after the wedding, enjoying some sun.

The banana daquiris! Yummy...

Here, you can see that we like cake and posing for pictures.

Here are my girlies, some of the loves of my life.

Hello, End of the Tunnel Light!

I may be resurfacing on this blog again.  Today is graduation and tomorrow is my last day of catch-up work.  Why did I make my sophomores write an essay for their final?  Pure stupidity, I suppose.

I am so excited for summer! I would love to say that in a more eloquent way, but I've been in the midst of high school seniors for too, too long.  I know it doesn't make up for the long hours, the underappreciation, the constant questions and concerns from parents, the work that hasn't been turned in and the working your butt off so kids can graduate and start life... but it might come close to making it up.

I get to read books, write on this thing again, work out at my leisure instead of 5 in the morning, walk my dog and regain my life back.  The life of a student is ideal.  I can sleep when I want, eat when I want, wake up when I want and learn all the while.  Why am I not in a PhD program?!

For the time being, I will have to entertain the idea of being a self-taught student in the course of life.  Cheesy, perhaps, but true nonetheless.  I can have some time to sort out my life before I become, once again, an overtired slave of the teenage population of Vail, AZ.  But that's months from now.  

I will enjoy their graduation with dry eyes and be excited for the future that life holds for them.  I will also be ecstatic that they will be some poor boss's concern now and not mine.  Fingers crossed there's a boss, or a teacher, or a drill sergeant...  Anything, really.  

Mostly, I'm just happy to hear that very familiar sound - a solid thump of a chapter ending in life.  Time for the next, please.

Where Have I Been?

For the last few months I have been buried in high school. I mean, honestly. When did I become the girl that liked to have kids verbalize their misunderstanding that I am their employee? :)

In other news that isn't school, this semester is going to rock. My daddy, mommy, and grandpappy are coming to see me (and the boy) this weekend. I've got a long weekend coming up for Rodeo Days (yes, kiddos, I live in the wild, wild West). I have two weeks off in March that will involve going to the Grand Canyon for a long weekend, puppy and all; it will also incorporate me going to my mommy and daddy's house for a his/hers wedding shower. Then, in April, I'm ditching the ol' high school for a Caribbean cruise. Oh yeah, I'll be getting married on it. :)

And I'm going to look a-dorable. I've got the dress, the shoes, the ridiculous-bridezilla-inducing-fanatical diet going on. It'll be worth it. :)

Then before I know it, it'll be May. We all know what that means - goodbye seniors, hello sun tan.

So until my days of glory and relaxation come, I'll pay my dues here: I'm at parent-teacher conferences where no one want to talk to me because I have seniors. Senior parents don't care. And my stupid loaned laptop's spacebar doesn't work really well. My writing genius has cost me; I'll have blisters tomorrowfromtypingsohard.