Sorry, sorry: the catch-up blog.

Ok, so here was Mike and I's holiday season:

Wednesday, December 19th: last day of work for a few weeks. Whoohoo!

Thursday, December 20th: My first day off! (warning, long rambling story about the oldest cat) Took Turkish to the vet to get him checked out because he was pooping bloodiness on our bed...twice in nine hours. Poor guy wasn't feeling well. So I take him into the vet, he sees the resident orange kitty "Pumpkin," and freaks out. We actually had to muzzle him, which didn't really work since his face is shaped oddly (the vet assistant's words, not mine), and eventually the poor vet had to use leather gloves. Anyway, once the vet was actually able to do the exam, turns out he had a random tummy upset. We paid an exorbitant amount os money for that conclusion, of course, and he is now doing better, since we changed his litter back to clay. We were going environmental with "wheat litter," but he evidently did not take kindly to it. Now: less blood, no poo on bed. That was the high point of the day, really.

Friday, December 21st: Christmas party! Got to see Leah & Danny (and Abby!), Mica & Neil, and "the Rochenbach," on vacation from her work in Malawi. So good to see them all! Succesfully put up two strands of Christmas lights and redecorated the tree the kitties had succesfully un-decorated.

Saturday, December 22nd: Relaxed. Cleaned a bit. Read A Hundred Years of Solitude for school. Here's an example of the last twenty pages: people having an affair who turned out to be closely related had a baby with a pig's tail who was eaten by ants, after the childbirth death of the mother and shortly before the death of the father. I kid you not, the entire book is like that. I really hate Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Grrrr. But at least it's read.

Sunday, December 23rd: Drove down to San Diego and went to the San Diego Museum of Contemporary Art (SDMCA. Catchy, huh?). Good space, but small. Mostly installation pieces by a single artist. And the museum people act like you're going to rip the 20-foot installation panel from the ceiling and smuggle it out in your purse. Long story short: not the best art experience. Went back to Oceanside, chilled with my family.

Monday, December 24th: Sea World! Our passes expired the 26th, so Mike, my parents, and I all went. Good times.

Tuesday, December 25th: Christmas!!!! Mom and Dad's in the morning, Papa & Grandma in the afternoon, and the Lake's in the evening. Played really old complicated board game called "Dungeons" that my six-year-old nephew is oddly adept at. failed miserably.

Wednesday: December 26th: Little to no activity. Lots of pajamas, reading, RollerCoaster Tycoon 2, and movies.

Thursday: December 27th: Laundry, groceries, and household stuff. Bought storage for our ornaments (because we actually have them this year). Ditto on the above.

Friday: December 28th: Went out to the Bookman in Orange and tried to pick up a few more texts for school. Ended up picking up a great book on Hiroshima. Read it Friday night/ Saturday morning. Popped over to IKEA for filials and ended up also purchasing a couple of large red velvet pillows. Awesome in a non-porno way, I swear! Clio has claimed any unoccupied pillow for her own. Then went to Don Jose's with my grandparents and Mom and Dad.

Saturday: December 29th: More laziness. In-N-Out for dinner. Various house-stuff. Finished taking down Christmas lights that were actually lit only twice, and not at all on Christmas. Failure.

Sunday: December 30th: Went to Little Tokyo for chocolate mushrooms (insert drool here). Picked up extra to ship to Steve and Sarah and to prove to my boss that they do indeed exist. Tried to go to the Getty, but was foiled by crazy numbers of people trying to go. Gave up and headed home. Dropped by BJ's (avocado egg rolls), Target (trashcan for paper recycle), and Borders (the last couple of books for school). Read Sex God by Rob Bell. Awesome.

And I'm spent! Now that I feel less guilty about the large time lapse between blogs I'll be able to write more often. Maybe.

Happy New Year!

I'm starting to see a trend...

I'm on antibiotics again. Not for a UTI; we got rid of that. Nope, my sinus infection returned.

Sorry. I'm not the funnest (yes, I said funnest) person to be around right now. On the bright side, I have only two days before my Christmas break from work. I'm hoping a slightly slower pace and more sleep will help.

There's tons going on as usual, so I'll try and feel better in the next couple of days and catch ya'all up.

Good night!

They should seasonally candy-coat antibiotics

So I have taken more antibiotics in the past year than the other 23 years of my life combined. Serious. Four UTI's and a sinus infection.

So, the fourth UTI struck kindly on a Sunday morning. Mike and I drag ourselves over to Kaiser that afternoon for the wonderful antibiotics, where the doctor looks at my tests and starts asking me all sorts of interesting questions, like "does it hurt when I do this?" Evidently the original test came out with crazy high protein levels, indicating a) bone cancer, b) kidney failure, or c) a false reading. In the end it was a falsely high reading, but I'll admit, I was a little freaked out. Mike said he wasn't. Hah.

Anyway, back on antibiotics, feeling better, enjoying the Christmas season. Yay!

White and Silver and Blue all over...

We bought and put up a tree this morning. It is fabulous in an utterly tricked out, themed fashion.

And we spent all afternoon and evening doing the 4-year-old birthday/family dinner thing. Good times.

Lastly, ran into the Caitlings at Target. Great to see them! We're going to try and pull an evening together. We'll see how it goes...

Happy December, everybody!

I am 1/3 of the way there!!!!

That's right, I just turned in my final papers (I finished up three 5 page papers today...and worked 8 hours. How friggin cool am I?), which means that my second semester of grad school is complete! I have three more semesters of regular classes, and planned for Spring 09 is my thesis.

Yay for me!

And yes, I am way tired slap-happy right now. Give me a break!

Thanksgiving (and then some)

It's been awhile!

Still on antibiotics...boo.

Thanksgiving was fun...yay! A bunch of the girls (Mom, Connie, Monica, and our newby this year, Ashley) go shopping at 5 a.m. on Black Friday. We never get any great deals and we all refuse to wait in line (and I whine like a pain in the butt for the first three hours), but we do it anyway. Why? Couldn't even begin to tell you. But at least I got a start on the Christmas shopping.

I'm not allowed to decorate or do anything fun/Christmas-y until Saturday, since my semester ends Friday, but I'm looking forward to it! We're theming white, silver, and small red accents this year. Gonna look awesome!!!!

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving!

Sinuses and Nickel Creek

So, last night a slew of us ventured out to LA's house of Blues to see the very last touring performance of Nickel Creek. Granted, the venue was really bad, but Nickel Creek was awesome as usual.

First, the tickets said 8, but it turned out that the concert didn't actually start until 9. So we stood outside for an hour, got in to the venue, waited for another 45 minutes, listened to a two + hour concert... all standing. My back was KILLING me. The, all they provide is valet parking, so you know have 9/10 of the indoor audience standing outside at almost midnight waiting for their vehicle to show. Bad plan, people. Bad plan. Got home at 1 am. I am so old!

So, given that we didn't know about the real concert start time or the "standing only genuine admission" policy, it was a pretty hard night. But, again, the music was utterly fantastic; so sad they're taking a break!

So, anyway, last night I joked, "Hey, if I'm too tired or my back hurts too much, I can call in sick." Seriously, I was kidding.

Well, I've had a headache for the last week, off and on, which this morning turned into the RAGING MONSTER HEADACHE FROM HELL. No kidding. I'm staying close to my bottle of Motrin. Don't worry, I don't think it's anything too serious, just a sinus infection left to its own devices. I think I secretly hoped it would go away on its own. But this morning I also have chunky mucus that keeps appearing in my mouth.

Yes, I know that was an overshare.

So I'm waiting until Michael is up so I can start being annoying and call my doc. Hurts way too much to sleep right now. And yes, I called in sick.

I didn't mean it! I swear!!!

Geesh.

Angst

I've never been very good at forgetting. The only real plus about that is that I very rarely get into situations with people where I feel that forgiveness is actually something that is necessary. But that doesn't change the fact that, at the end of the day, I have this horrible, gut-wrenching, tearful anger towards someone that I used to hold in a rather dear position.

Granted, he's moving up north. We don't get out of Riverside for a couple of years, so this will help us avoid really, really awkward conversations at the local Trader Joe's. But I'm pretty sure this is the sort of thing that distance is not going to fix. And it will eventually get better. But until he admits that what he did was (insert wrong, stupid, extremely hurtful, selfish, similar adjective, here), I'm just not sure how to resolve this anger. Anger towards him, towards the church, towards others that have remained clustered about him...even towards God, for ever putting this person in such a position of power and influence. And the fact that I have to face is that I will never have that closure.

Damn it.

A Method to My Madness

Commercial Time:

I know you've all seen those cool cleaning bottles at Target with the "Method" brand on them, right? Well, what you need to do is march right over to your friendly neighborhood Target megamart and buy every possible Method cleaning product you can. Why?

Michael and I have been trying to become more and more "green" this past year. We already recycle aluminum, glass, and plastic, have been replacing all our bulbs with the energy efficient kind, and keep the place cool in the winter and a tad warm in the summer. Whenever possible we just use our fan and open windows. I know, baby steps.

So, the next two goals were to A) start recycling paper, and B) get rid of most of my chemical cleaning products. I'm trying to find a skinny garbage can to fit in the kitchen corner and collect paper (I haven't quite gotten to how I'm going to get rid of and recycle said paper, but I'm working on that). But, in working on goal #2, I heard about Method and thought, "Hey! Biodegradable, non-toxic...I'm there!"

Best part? Yummy smells. And no fumey weird chemicalness. My handsoap is now cucumber, my glass cleaner is mint, all-purpose is pink grapefruit, and tub-n-tile is ecualyptus. Not a fan of the smells at all? They make a "naked" one: no fragrance. And you don't have to cough up a lung or wear big plastic gloves or ruin perfectly good pants (I have a story...) cleaning the shower. Besides, for parents, peace of mind: the worst thing that could happen to a thirsty and curious kid is a stomachache.

So buy Method. Brag to your eco-friends about how you only clean "environmentally friendly." Save a whale. Or a carbon molecule. Or a lung.

And I'm spent...

Remember Sartre's "Look" argument for existence? Same thing, but with gnomes.

moar funny pictures

All digits accounted for...

So, I still have all my fingers. I have gotten two wicked paper cuts and a nice scrape from the laundry basket...but everything's functioning and uninfected thus far. Hmmmm...

We have been doing some very fun upgrading 'round the old apartment: new bookshelves!!! We spent most of last weekend putting them together, and they look fabulous. Go IKEA.

I'm sure there's a whole bunch more to catch everyone up on, but I'm way tired (kitties don't catch on that, on weekends, people sleep in past 6 am). So talk to you all soon...

I like my fingers.

I do. I really do. So it disturbs me that the universe is conspiring to disable all the fingers on my left hand.

Sunday night: drawer broke and slanted up, sandwiching my thumb between it and the top of the counter. Result: one painful, moderately purple thumb.

Tuesday afternoon: I catch my index finger in the file drawer, and, reacting to the pain, jerk my finger out of the door...taking a large, bloody chunk out of my finger.

Next to go: the middle. We're on a 36 hour or so trend here, so if I make it to 48 hours with all digits intact and unharmed, I'll let you know. But I'm leaving the chopping for Michael until then.

Ok, and I had a hilarious work moment. I love the people I work with; have I mentioned that?

I have three professors in my office. One is trying to recall the name of a street a fellow prof lives on; mentions it is the name of a great author. Troy's genius quip? "Steele?"

I think I snorted before I literally lost it. It was hilarious...probably more my reaction to it than the actual moment. I'm actually chuckling right now, thinking of it.

I'm such a dork.

Ice cream, blazing infernos, and stick shifts

I know, I know, I haven't blogged in forever (aka two weeks).

So, let me catch you up:

Michael and I's favorite ice cream store (that makes their own frozen deliciousness in the back) went out of business. During this fated ice cream run, we also discovered that they were selling their stock: 10 pints of hand-packed, homemade ice cream for $10. Needless to say, our freezer is quite full at the moment.

uhhm, don't know if you've noticed, but... Southern California burned to the ground. Jim and Ami made it out of Rancho Bernardo just fine, as did Chris and Chandra out of Ramona. My brother was put on voluntary evacuation, but it was lifted about a day later. Alpine was miraculously spared...again, if you remember their proximity to the 2003 fires. The Grass Valley fire was named for Grass Valley road...the road that borders one side of the camp. Anyway, far as I know we're all safe and only slightly singed.

I got a new psychologist...nice guy; I think it'll work out fine. I always hate introductory psych meetings. "Hi, this is me. Here's my medication history, symptom history, family history, blah blah blah." Ick. So glad to have that over with.

But, on a high note: I learned to drive a stick yesterday. Whoohoo! I think I only sort of freaked out Mike (and all others unlucky enough to be parked in the far end of the SEARS parking lot). I even took it out on the road this morning and didn't even stall! Yes, yes, I know. I'm hardcore. But I look like a total granny because I'm sitting so close to the steering wheel in order to push the clutch all the way in. Still working on the "style" factor.

And that's life. I'm off to finish my crossword, sort and fold laundry, and work on my philosophy paper due next week. Happy Sunday,

Tired...so very tired

Does anyone want to tell me how 650 or so pages of hardcore political philosophy can be adequately translated into 4-5 pages? Yeah, I don't get it either. I'm working like mad (ok, except for the time out for this blog) to get my paper done and sent out this morning, and I'm constantly reminded that MY INSTRUCTOR IS INSANE.

On a brighter note, I am *gasp* now 24 years old. Booyah. Or something like that.

This schedule is really taking a toll; I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. To be 18 and never need to sleep again...well, I could always just go off my meds (those hypomanic episodes are fantastic for getting stuff done), but I'm pretty sure Michael would divorce me.

Anyway, I've had a couple of breakdowns this past week (just stress and depression and the time of year...AND my meds aren't quite right). I get to do my introductory meeting with my new psychiatrist on the 23rd, which means I tell them everything about myself...AGAIN! Yay! I guess they do it because there's such a high rate of misdiagnosis and over-diagnosis. And you don't want to put a normally functioning person on anti-psychotics (or, as I call them, the good pills). And I have to face the fact that October is a horrible month for manic depressive people. It's the month with the highest rate of hospitalizations, consistently. Oh well.

And the kitties have discovered a new game: run after each other up and down the stairs at 6 am. Make turn-around point upstairs the bed with the two sleeping people. Stop occasionally to set up camp on person's chest and be petted.

I love the dorks, but grrrrr....

Birthday...Part 1

So, I have officially celebrated the first weekend of my birthday stretch. Since my birthday is Wednesday, I get BOTH weekends. How awesome is that?

Anyway, Friday: I took the day off of work (I got a day for my birthday), marathoned on my papers and ran errands, then went down to Disneyland. IT WAS INSANELY CROWDED. Everyone and their mom thought D-land was the place to be that random Friday in October. So we left shortly after seeing the Haunted Mansion all dolled-up for Halloween. We got on the road, realized we were heading home in 6:00 pm Friday traffic, and promptly detoured to IKEA to kill some time. Nothing too special (other than the fact that we got to hang out in IKEA, which is always nifty). I think we bought a microplane and a corkscrew.

Got BACK on the freeway, and sat. For an hour. Moved about a mile...maybe two. Got off freeway. Went to Best Buy to look at laptops. (Michael and I have been sharing my broken, super-slow laptop for about a month...the insanity has to stop). Got back on freeway. Sat for 1 1/2 hours. Moved about...eh...5 miles. Finally passed a five car pile-up; it looked bad. Hope everyone was ok. We finally got home wayy after ten. Geesh!

Saturday: Got up, got coffee, BOUGHT A LAPTOP!!!! YAY! Scary as all heck to drop that much money on something that I didn't drive or live in, but it happens. Anyway, we got a to-die-for deal on a way-tricky HP. It has a lot of gig and ram and... techno stuff. And it looks pretty, which was my favorite part (Michael would tell me it looks "sexy." I have a hard time giving that title to hardware, but whatever). Oh, and we got our desk delivered, which had a big ol' gouge in the front corner, so we have to exchange via mail...boo! But other than that, I got cracking on my papers again before finding out we could go pick up the kitty we adopted a couple of weeks ago. She's gorgeous; I'll post a picture as soon as I can. (Name: Clio Satine "The Iconoclast.")

Sunday: Missed church, which I'm sad about, but it happens. :( Got breakfast. Wrote and read for four hours straight. Introduced the kitties to each other. Lots of hissing (on Turk's side). He's a bit of an only child. Dinner with the Lakes, wherein I receieved totally awesome cups and saucers from SBUX (with fall leaf motifs...I'm so excited!!!), and a Borders gift certificate. Needless to say I lost no time in putting that one to good use. Bought a few books (Swann's Way, The House of the Seven Gables, Jacob's Room). Came home, marathoned on paper.

Going to bed. GREAT WEEKEND! Can't it be longer?

Simple

Everytime I really sit down and think about Christianity, I'm overwhelmed by how simple it is. Love God, love others. It's really not that difficult. So why do we make it so hard? We start worrying about how we worship, and what posture we take when we pray, and what we eat, and our stance on the environment. Some of us get irritated when other Christians would rather sit in a formal latin mass and pray on their knees...and I know plenty of Christians that don't like that I pray with my eyes open, wear jeans to church, and listen to the sermon while I'm sipping a cup of coffee.

But you know what? I don't think God cares. I think Jesus would be happy to sit in a Catholic mass, and I think he'd totally rock out next to me at my church. I like to think he's a half-caf cappuccino kind of God. I think he'd smile at the guy who's half hung-over from the night before, and hug the homosexual, and buy the homeless guy on the corner breakfast. SO WHY CAN'T WE DO THAT? WHY IS IT SO HARD?

I'm not perfect at it. Heck, I'm not even good at it. I give it my best...sometimes. And other times, I admit that I slack and expect a better Christian to come by and pick up my responsibilities. But God loves me anyway. And he loves you, anyway. And he's a Sex God and a Green God and a terrible and jealous God...all of those things. But he's also the lover of my soul and my savior.

I always liked the little sermon clip at the end of Chocolat. Tell me what you think:

"Do I want to speak of the miracle of our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about his divinity. I'd rather talk about his humanity. I mean, you know, how he lived his life, here on Earth. His kindness, his tolerance. Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think we've got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create... and who we include."

Wet Paint

I went to lunch today, and there was a "wet paint" sign on the door to the James building. I carefully avoided all surfaces since, frankly, I had no clue to what area it was referring.

I came back from lunch. There were now three wet paint signs posted around the doorway. I still walked through very carefully, touching nothing. Still not entirely sure what was wet.

Left for the day. I now had to dodge two orange cones wrapped in "wet paint" signs in addition to those plastered on the walls. I haven't been back since, which is too bad. I probably missed the "wet paint" portable scrolling marquee and mime.

Lolcat

I don't care if pictures of kitties with clever captions are low art.

If Lolcats are wrong, I don't want to be right.

Struggling

Does someone out there know how to succesfully be a wife, take care of finances, cooking, and cleaning, go to grad school part time AND work 40 hours a week? Oh, yeah, and I still have to get a couple of REM cycles in each night.

Right.

I Love Jesus...and french fries

So Kev gave this really great talk yesterday at the Flipside...we're currently on the section of Matthew that has been dubbed "The Politically Incorrect Jesus" sermons. We covered Jairus' daughter and the woman with uncontrollable bleeding, etc. Essentially, faith. Maybe I'll figure out how to explain my feelings about it later, but for now...wow. Just wow.

Oh...and we have posters up around the stage with various slogans and "controversial" religious stuff on them...my favorite is "I Love Jesus and french fries." Hilarious! I need that t-shirt.

And we covered an Avril Lavigne song. A few weeks ago it was Linkin Park. Good times.

Michael and I also made it to IKEA on Saturday for a bit. We picked up hanging tins for an herb garden. Yay! And we priced a bunch of other stuff (bookshelves, dresser, table, the usual). Also hit a nice used bookstore for a little bit of fun.

Sunday, we did church, then hopped over to Redlands looking for a new kitty at the Petco. We would've come home with one except it turned out to be a girl. Boo! So the adoption people are looking for more siamese-like kitties for us. Then we went to our first-date BJ's location for a late lunch...then the grocery store, nursery, and Trader Joe's for groceries and herbs. Oh, and we ran into Fr. Josiah at Trader Joe's. He's one of my favorite adjuncts and the priest over at St. Andrew's Orthodox Church. Great guy.

And six loads of laundry, grading, and some housework later, it was Monday. I'm still getting over my cold (sniffling and sneezing, the usual), but I'm on my way towards well. I think I regressed; I felt a lot better Sunday.

Can't Stop...IKEA. Not related. Sort of.

Can't sleep either. I'd tell you why, but it's really disgusting (i.e. drowning in mucus). Oh, wait, just told you. Sorry. Hope you weren't enjoying a tasty treat while reading this (tapioca).

Hehe. Junior high sense of humor fulfilled.

Seriously, though, have you ever seen the music video for the Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Can't Stop?" GENIUS. If everything else they ever did was crap, they would still earn my respect for emulating Erwin Wurm in a music video.

If you don't know who Erwin Wurm is, you really have to google him. His art (one-minute sculptures, mostly dealing with people and various objects) is just utterly random...but I have to appreciate how he sees the world. My personal favorite is a girl sitting perfectly straight on a sidewalk in a major city, titled something like "Sitting on the sidewalk and thinking about Spinoza." There's a sort of timelessness about the photo that's just...well...genius. I don't know, I just feel it. Some of his odder stuff with bananas I really don't get, but hey, one or two items of art that really speak to you are better than nothing.

Anyway, check out the video. My personal favorite moments are the guitar solo in packing peanuts, Anthony Ketis' apparent allergy to shirts (although we've known that for years), but his ability to wear a gigantic plastic dress, the room full of lamps, and Flea in a purple Barney head. If that doesn't pique your interest, nothing will.

Like I said... GENIUS.

I'm really hoping to be not grossly ill enough to wander through IKEA tomorrow. Mike will be getting a big paycheck soon (he's been teaching for a month but we have seen almost no money so far...dang it), and we have several things that desperately need replacing (our hazardous to your health in an earthquake, mismatching older than dirt bookcases...that we don't have enough of anyway), our desk that doesn't fit Michael's ancient computer (and my laptop's screen is broken...boo), the hand-me down table that has served us well (but I hate mid-80's country style kitchen stuff...which is exactly what it looks like. I feel like I should have a rooster or geese decorations on it), and the even worse chairs...some of which I keep a stack of books on so we don't use them. I'm a little concerned about their stability. So I want to window shop.

Don't get me wrong; we were so outrageously and totally blessed in getting all of the wonderful hand-me-down stuff we did. But now that we live in a household with two decent incomes, I'm dying to do some of the "nesting" that I didn't get to do in the first eight months of our marriage.

We also have a young couple that live a few apartments down that have absolutely nothing at all. We've seen into their apartment a couple of times: two folding chairs and a card table. Literally all the furniture they have in the front room. Mike and I figure we'll offer them our stuff as we replace it.

Aahh, well. My body has to stop draining at some point. Maybe then I'll get some sleep. Grrrr.

2:00 a.m.

2:00 am.

Think I'm getting sick. Can't sleep. Need to turn a paper in tomorrow. I mean today. I think I can smell cat in the living room, which means he had an accident (I'm really paranoid about our apartment smelling like kitty), so I really want to hunt it down but I keep sneezing and having to blow my nose. And Michael is a little sick too, so he's snoring away like someone's giving away a prize for the loudest and stuffiest category in the morning. Sorry honey. The life of a teacher.

Oh, and Turk "the Destroyer" pooped on our bed last night... I mean tonight. The litter box was actually fairly clean; I think he wants all of the litter changed. He lets us know he's unhappy by pooping on our bed. We finally figured it out after the first two weeks of incontinence when we got him. He hated the "pine" litter. Although, honestly, the first three times I thought he hated me (he pooped on my nightgown and my side of the bed twice). When I caught him pooping on Michael's side of the bed and on the mat in the downstairs bathroom I was almost excited.

Arrgh. I have to be at work in five hours. And I have to finish my paragraph on Rationalism v. Empiricism for my paper. That I have to mail in because my instructor is allergic to email.

Grrrrrrrrrrr..............

Shiver Me Timbers!

Happy talk like a pirate day, me maties! I've been trying to get pirate speak to catch on all day, but no one wants to play with me for more than a sentence or two. Yarrr.

And in other news, Aristophanes Turkish Lake "The Destroyer" (the full title of our adorable russian blue kitty who is currently sprawled across my keyboard) will be receiving a little brother in the semi-near future. Name to be determined. Since Turkish was named after philosopher and Snatch character, we're thinking we have to follow the trend. Current working title is Friedrich Bullet-Tooth Tony. Note I said working title. The other option is just to use Jason Stratham characters, which means we're considering Handsome Rob.

We shall see.

Pepitas

I am currently sitting at my desk (I normally go home for the lunch but ol'Concord had to have a few belts replaced and is chilling at the auto repair guru's dojo. We found a really great mechanic; ask if you need one) enjoying my Provider Cajun Chicken Ceaser Salad lunch.

Now, don't get me wrong. I heart CBU salads. Mostly because all boxed salads come with a cookie. It's sort of my reward for the "ho-hum, I'm eating rabbit food for lunch" complex. Here's my issue, though.

Flashback 2003. Wanda's is still in the basement of James. Salads are still coming in these itsy bitsy little containers that all full to the brim, so when you open them they explode on everything. No cookies. Nope. Not for us. I like to call this the "dark ages" of CBU food service.
The age when everything was covered in pepitas.

For those of you who don't know, pepitas are roasted pumpkin seeds. I do not heart roasted pumpkin seeds. Seeds should be planted in the ground to grow delicious things that I then scoop the seeds out of before I consume them. Seeds are not food. That should be a t-shirt, or at least the motto of a semi-serious human rights campaign. But I digress...

Anyway, cajun chicken ceasar salads used to be covered in pepitas. Oodles of pepitas. I could've saved them from the bottom of my salad (where I did my best to leave them) and started my own pumpkin patch PLUS a black-market pepita business on the side. I exaggerate very, VERY little. I actually stopped eating the salads and moved to the turkey and cheese sandwiches...partly for the pepitas, and partly for the cookies that came with the sandwiches. You have to know where the loyalty lies, people.

Now, jump ahead to 2005, wherein I return to the salads upon viewing the included cookie and whole-grain roll. I carefully examined my salad for pepitas. Nothing. I thought I just got really, really lucky and tried again the next day. Still no pepitas. Two years later: no pepitas, even though they are listed as ingredients to the salad on the label. (Also listed on the label as an ingredient: cherry tomato. Literally, a single cherry tomato. Every time. But no pepitas. Not even one).

Oh well. Chocolate chip cookie, anyone?

The Simpson's & French Food: My Cultural Saturday

So, I had my first American French food experience last night (I say that because I've been to France and therefore, by default, have eaten French food. But not in the United States. Honestly, things feel a lot more authentic when you're eating them from another country. Case in point: my crepe lunch in London and awesome pasta in Germany).

It was good. We got mostly the whole family and some friends (the Lake side) together for Alan's bday at Gerard's. More than I would usually want to spend on meals out (of course), but it was good. The french onion soup was KILLER. And my wild mushroom ravioli with sage cream sauce (Yes! I ate ravioli at a French restraunt! Shut up.) was also way yummy. Afterwards we all packed up and headed for Alan & Melissa's for cake and ice cream. Good times.

Michael and I have also been working our way through the 6th season of the Simpson's. We lie in wait for them to go on sale at Target for $20 and then snatch them up before other undeserving customers can purchase them. Because we are far more special than the average people. If you know us, you also know this is true.

Well, off I go to be a productive member of society. Good weekend, all!

Nature & I are homies

When I got to work this morning, the building was warmer inside than it was outside. I put my air on "high" at 7 a.m., which means that I am now partially deaf.

My phone receiver was hot. What the heck?

I can't wait for Autumn. I pleaded and Bambi-eyed my way into convincing Michael we absolutely HAD to spend $4.50 on an "Autumn's Greetings" sign for the front door on Sunday. When I opened the door this morning, there was an oak leaf on the front porch that looked JUST LIKE the leaves on the sign.

Nature's got my back.

Heat Advisory

I have weatherbug on my computer.

I think it's really cool when we have severe weather, because it chirps like a cricket every ten minutes or so, letting me know that advisories have been posted. Like today: severe heat.

I never said the warnings were relevatory, just well-audioed.

Anyway, Michael has his school papers spread out all over the place, we made a morning run to Starbucks (their carmelized apple pecan coffee cake is really good...EAT IT) before our little jaunt over to Office Depot and the ever-popular Albertsons.

I should either A: read for grad school or B: clean the bathroom. But I have this overwhelming urge to either laze about or go get some ice cream. We can only guess which tendency will win out.

Oh, and I did overcook the chicken the other night and scrubbed my hands raw. On the other hand, I totally screwed over any hopes the salmonella might have had. Way to stick it to the man.

Ode to House

I'm addicted to House. It's true. We don't have tv, but we do have Netflix.

House-commercials=obsessive entertainment.

The Simpsons on DVD is a close second.

So right now I'm avoiding starting dinner (raw chicken...icky). It's the left-over vegetarian reflex that clashes with the Obsessive Compulsive reflex: chicken, eww, overcook and wash everything 8 times.

And after that, I have every intention of reading my philosophy material. As part of the Humanities degree, there are a certain number of "experiencing the humanities" courses I have to take. So far, the ones that were the most mind-numbing are the ones I already have an undergrad degree in. Hmmm...

And, on a parting note, isn't it completely awesome how medical shows break out Makita's and drill into people's skulls? Yes!

Labor Laws and Church Attendance

I've been trying to get this blog up and running for a while with the intention that I can then delete my myspace account, since the blog feature is largely what I use. I guess I could keep a private diary...but isn't it always more fun when other people throw in their opinions on your own private thoughts? When it happens in your head it's psychosis...on paper (or screen) it's blogging. Go figure.

So, I'm not at work yet because our collective departments have an event tonight and working rules say I can't work more than eleven hours a day. Pansies. So I'm sitting here in my robe doing pointless blog surfing and thought, "Hey! I have one of these too!"

My mommy says I'm smart. And easily distracted by shiny objects.

Michael and I have finally found a church we're going to commit to: The Flipside. The name's a little dorky, I know. But we are now flipsidians...which is hilarious. It's way out in the industrial complexes of Rancho Cucamonga, but we drive by about three Starbucks and Coffee Beans on the way there, so I'm cool with it. The people are super friendly, the music is different...but not too bad, and the pastor is awesome. It's not the same as what we had...but it works for now. We'll be heading out Santa Fe way in about three years, so it's a moderately short-term location.

I wouldn't say the mourning period is over...just lessening in intensity. It's about time.

God is good.

And a new chapter...