If You Could Have It All

I love the show, "The Apprentice". Part of the jingle at the beginning is, "What if you could have it all?"

This is probably going to be cliche for me, but what if I don't think that Trump has it all? I actually think fame would be a loathesome thing to have. Money is nice. But failed marriages, no thanks.

I am a "driven" person. I think Greg hit on this in a comment once. (It was pretty perceptive.) If I wanted to, I am sure I could be one of those people who would be obsessive about what I want, focus on one thing and kill it. I am good at reaching goals. If I set agressive ones, I could meet them. I know this about myself.

But at what cost? How do I set goals keeping in mind what is important to me in life? If I have to decide between being to work on time or going to take medicine to my sick sister, I choose the sister (as long as I am not putting someone else out of sorts). If I have clients that insist that I work on Sundays and that messes with my commitment to the teens, I refer them out to other sales people. I arrange my life and my work around things that matter to me. That is family and helping other people.

I am not writing this to toot my own horn. Some people probably think I am insane. Why would I sacrifice fame or wealth (or possibly both) for people?

I sometimes think of the saying, on your deathbed would you regret not making more money or spending time with my family or people that needed me? Yeah, so I could probably reach $500,000 a year if I really wanted to. But my life would be work. It wouldn't be J. It wouldn't be visiting my best girlfriend over Memorial Day Weekend. It wouldn't be taking care of my sister when she has the flu. It wouldn't be blowing off work for a month to spend time with the teens after Josh died.

It would be about my checkbook balance. And what if that fell apart?

Dangerous Duo

As I sit here writing my newest post, I am wearing a pink ski skull cap. You know, one of those knit jobbies that fits the head. They are trendy right now. But, that’s not why I am wearing it. It is about 70* outside. I am wearing it because it is cute and I bought it in Maui last summer and I just found it in the back of the closet while I was looking for the perfect picture of me and Beth.

I tore my house apart. I can’t find it anywhere. It is our signature picture. I can see it in my head perfectly. We are dressed in these floor length gowns, all coiffed and looking absolutely fabulous. Our heads are cocked to the side, we have a hand on a hip which is popped out to one side and we have this expression on our faces. It was our perfect, “I’m innocent but not really” look. Our eyes are turned heavenward. We have our tongues in our cheeks. It was us to a T. And I can’t find it anywhere.

She sent me an email yesterday. We were roomies in college for a little while. She is my best girlfriend ever. She has another friend she has known longer that probably takes rank over me, but that’s beside the point. We are the kind of friends that can be anywhere, doing anything and have a blast. You could put the two of us in an empty, white circle room and give us any object and we would have the time of our lives. We are like McGyver but instead of building stuff, we entertain ourselves. Give us a whole grocery store or a Target, and we are unstoppable. It requires no alcohol or drugs, it’s just a natural high.

She went to college with me in Arizona. After college was over, she lived in Phoenix for another year but moved back to Colorado. I have been out to visit her once. Really, it’s quite sad. We talk about once every other month. We never are at a loss of what to talk about. She has three kids under five years old, all boys. We talk in-between the screaming. (It’s usually her husband doing the whining.)

So she emailed me and asked if I wanted to come visit over Memorial Day weekend.

Well, duh! Of course I do.

A Butterfly Beats Its Wings

I think life is made up of the small stuff. Really small stuff. Not so small that a butterfly flapping its wings in Tokyo will change your love life.

I read what Luke had to write about going to the funeral yesterday. He simply said yes to a friend and then got himself into an unknown situation which didn’t seem like the most pleasant one ever. He reported back later in the day and said that the funeral was about as awkward as he had anticipated, but there was one silver lining in the whole thing. He saw a beautiful girl. Now, he felt bad about even seeing this beautiful woman because it was the daughter of the deceased.

But me, I know small things make a big difference. It’s the small decisions in life, when made for the right reasons that change the actual course of life. I had been married for about two months. J asked me to go with him to practice. He was playing his guitar over at some people’s house and he didn’t know them all that well yet. He asked me once, and didn’t nag. I said no. What would I do there? Sit around and watch for a few hours. I had been to more than one rehearsal and they were boring for me. The musicians always had fun. Plus, I had just gotten home from work and the last thing I wanted to do was waste an evening sitting, doing nothing. But I got the impression that J really wanted me to go. I decided for some reason to be a dutiful wife, not do what I wanted to do, but do what my husband wanted me to do. I had absolutely no interest in going. It was a selfless act simply because I wanted to do the right thing. And the right thing in my mind was to take care of J in any way I could.

So I went. I was right. I was bored. He played for a few hours with the two singers. I read Dr. Seuss to the singers’ little girls for close to two hours. Then he was done. One of the singers started to engage us in seeming small talk. What do you guys do for a living? Do you like it? Blah Blah Blah. The truth of the matter was that I was in a job that paid $9 an hour that I loathed. The drive was long and I had to get up really, really early. Not fun. I conveyed my opinion about my current job without being too negative about it.

Apparently this guy was a manager for a large Fortune 500 Corporation. He said he would like to interview me, would I bring my resume by? Sure! Of course. A job that is 1 mile away vs. all the way downtown and not for a crappy, hole in the wall company.

To sum the situation up, I got the job because of my knack for reading Dr. Seuss. I ended up making over double what I was making before plus kickin’ benefits. They even paid for me to continue my college education. It enabled J and I to buy a house about 8 months later and it’s how I ended back in Sedona. That small decision to go with my husband to his practice changed the very direction my life was going. I would not have gotten that job otherwise. I was not qualified and it was one of those jobs that so many people apply for that you have to know someone on the inside to get it.

So, maybe Luke will see this girl out and about someday. And maybe she will remember he sang at her mom’s funeral. And maybe a conversation will ensue.

It’s the small things in life that count.

I'm Missing a Few Pills

PICTURE DELETED FOR A MOMENT. PLEASE STAND BY. (CHUCH)

Lucy, You Have Some 'Splanin' To Do

In the past two days, I have given advice to Martinilove to beat up a girl in the name of Karma, written the most depressing post to date and written a very "grouchy" post.

I am like many, many other females in the respect of PMS. Can't help it. I figured something was up. I still blame the grouchy post on Math. I don't usually get really bitchy. I do get over emotional. A cloud in the sky makes me want to burst in to tears a day or two before "the event".

TMI? Too bad.

So on a lighter note, let's see if I can get this thing to work today.

I took a quiz that matched my personality to the characters from the Incredibles. Try it, it's fun!
Click here to take your quiz.

Okay, so this is my "I'm sorry for PMSing" post.

Don't forget to comment and tell me which character you matched up with!

P.S. Please note. I have added more cool blog links to the right------>

Tears

I decided a while ago to never cry over him anymore. He ripped my heart out of my chest. I don't think I will ever fully recover or forget the feeling, really. I know I can't ever stop loving him. Everyone loved him. It was his personality.

I was driving into Sedona today, and the mountain peered up over the ridge.

I was listening to Chevelle and my heart hopped up into my throat. Everytime I see that mountain, I think of him.

But I decided no more tears. I cried over him like I have never cried over anyone. I fight the tears. I fight them hard. I feel like I have been punched in the gut when I think about him. My breath gets short. I try to let my mind wander, but the images start to flow.

I think of his smile. It was beautiful.

I think of the time he fell and everyone thought he broke his leg because he was screaming in pain. He was just kidding.

I remember my response being,"You're kidding. Right?".

And I always see Bryce walking out of the door, his clothes covered in blood and him coming up to me, hugging me, clinging to me for life and just bawling.

And my hands are now shaking and I have to stare up at the ceiling so the tears won't start.

And I can't forget.

And if I didn't stop crying, I would probably cry for the rest of my life. I don't think the tears would ever stop, or the need to let them go.

I Got Nuthin'

For the first time in my life, I have writers block. Then what am I doing writing, you may ask? I don't know. I can always spew out some dribble to satisfy my itch to write. The job I would most want to try if I could would be to make it as a writer. I don't even care if it were children's books. Shoot, I understand teens so well maybe I could be the next popular writer for teens. Who knows? But this writer block sucks. Nothing eventful happened yesterday apart from taking medication to my sister who has the flu, almost rear-ending a car at 60 MPH and of course, turing into Satan's mother-in-law because of Math.

Ha! Satan's mother-in-law. I just made that up. Like everyone thinks their mother-in-law is evil, so Satan being evil, thinking someone else is more evil. I wonder who Satan would marry? Maybe that would make a good teen book. Mr. & Mrs. Satan. It could be a satire or something.

Oh, I know. If I ever get writer's block again, I will blog about my mother-in-law. That could take up some space.

Amber the Grouch

I crunched numbers for five hours today. Math and I have a long, arduous relationship which used to be good but turned sour my Junior year of high school. Now we hardly speak unless we have to. Since it is tax season, I had to organize my expenses and this requires that I at least act civil to Math in order to get the work done. It’s not like we sit and hang out, laughing about the good times. He tries to mess with me and lead me in wrong directions just for fun. Fun for him. Not for me. Maybe Math wanted me to spend more time with him than was necessary. He knows I like to ditch him as soon as I am done, so maybe that was the ploy. I had to work the numbers three different ways to make sure they were correct in case the IRS ever comes around to do a cavity search.

Speaking of feeling a bit violated. (How's that for a segue?) Ladies, things have gotten out of control. I like you. I want you to be happy. You can stop screwing yourself over. Yes, you can.

News Flash: Not all men are mean. Not all are irresponsible. Not all are forgetful pus bags.

I know you know this. I understand that it is fun to bash the group when you don't have access to the one. However, it is ruining tranquility in the only non-annoying place in life: blogland.

So please, for the love of Pete (and Luke, and Jake, and Lunatic, and Blue, and Greg.....) Give the guys a break. Thank you. Yes, men can be mean. Quit expecting something different. Then when they aren’t you can be pleasantly surprised. And don’t dismiss the nice guy just because he is nice. If you were to put as much time and energy into the nice guys as you do in pursuing the jackasses, you would have a whole lot more to show for it than sour grapes. And don’t tell me you have never met a nice guy. You just didn’t get turned on by him, so you ignored him. And why do you expect to meet a nice guy at the bar? Really? It’s a meat market. If you really wanted to meet a nice guy you would go to the library or something like that or you might want to try to volunteer somewhere cool. You never know. You could meet Mr. Right in a bar, but do you really think so? A man on the prowl isn’t looking to be Mr. Right. He’s looking to be Mr. Right Now.

Women, don’t give your heart away in the first stages of meeting a guy. I don’t suggest giving anything away in the beginning, but that’s me. (It would ruin all the fun for the men, I know.) I try to never have expectations for many things and then I am not disappointed, just continually surprised and delighted. If you're going to have any expectations, expect that they guy from the bar is going to lose your number, not show up and just want you for sex. If anything else happens, be surprised.

I am going to lose all of my popularity votes. Ha!

That hurt me more than it hurt you.

I guess Math makes me fickin' grouchy.

That's What I Like About You

I have been writing about myself a lot lately. I know I am my favorite topic. Nothing better in the world to discuss, really, but variety is the spice of life.

So I shall take a moment and write about something else. I am going to give a run down of why I love the people that visit my blog. (Well, in addition to the obvious reason that you visit my blog.)

This list is in no particular order. I am not ranking favorites.

Lunatic- I like your wild streak. I can tell there is a guy down deep that just wants to behave but for you, life is like an unattended candy store and you are the six year old boy.

Martinilove- Her names sums it up! Just kidding. I like that even in her biggest rants she keeps a sense of humor. I fickkin love that you use random words like “howdy” and “holy cannoli”

Branshine- I love that you are random and completely full of energy.
You have a great sense of humor.

Jake- I like your dumb lies. Really. It shows an enthusiasm for life. If it is not fun enough, you will tweak it to be amusing

Luke- I just like you. (Fine I will be more specific. I like that you feel insecure in a pink shirt.)

Pete- What can I say? I think you are the most testosterone filled guy out of the bunch, but you play it cool.

That Girl- There is an innocence about you even in all of your woes, troubles and bad decisions. Oh, and for introducing me to pickles. Thank you.

Greg- I think you are really smart and yet most unpretentious person when it comes to your intelligence. Witty, too. (Actually, all the guys here get bonus points for witty.)

V- You are silly and funny. Kinda like Lunatic in the sense that life is a candy shop. You don’t wallow in self-pity. You bounce right back like a rubberband.

Blue- You are really, really caring. I think you might be the most sincere guy in the circle.

Sex- I like your honesty. I get the feeling you could care less if people really like you or not, but what’s not to like?

VegasGustan- I like that you are interested in other people.

Kyle- I like that you are too busy humping out the brains of some English woman to blog anymore.

Sam- I like the way you laugh at yourself.

Annalisa- It would take 24 years to explain why I like you.

Karen- I like your quirkiness.

If I left you out, send me a comment and I will add you!

Friday Night Bites

I bought some 80s movies and watched them tonight. In one movie, Eddie Murphy had the same shoes as Napoleon Dynamite. And I can't help but to wonder why all women's eyebrows had to be dark and thick in the 80's. Didn't women wax back then?

Anywho. After two 80s movies, I got bored. So I wrote another list of 100. The link is off to your right, just under my profile.

Or you can click here.

Tongues are Wagging

Today I lost clients that were worth $16,500 to me. But I didn't blog about that. I took it in stride and decided to move forward. It's like the saying, "There's no use crying over spilt milk." Absolutely nothing I can do about it. When it happened, I was so mad I was about to cry. I took deep breaths, msn chatted with sis, called my old broker (the senile one) to commiserate because he loves to bitch. I felt better. No need to blog.

But THIS. THIS! I cannot let this go. I am shaking from being mad. (Or is that the caffeine?) At lunch with my sister, she mentions that our mutual acquaintances, J&Y had told her that "Ted" came out of the closet two months before he moved. His parents are taking it in stride but aren't exactly adjusted to the idea yet. It stands against everything they believe in. J&Y went on to berate how "Ted's" parents were acting and how it wasn't fair. Blah Blah Blah.

Then they went on to share with my sister about a teen that recently came forward to say he was molested. Everyone knows who the perpetrator was. Not too many people know who the victim is. The victim's mom told me a few months ago and I didn't even tell my husband. (I told him I knew but I didn't feel comfortable saying who it was. It was a young man with an older guy.) But, J&Y were happily yapping away about all the details of the case and would've told her the guy's name (kind of egging her on to ask) if she would've asked. She didn't.

Then they started in on another girl. We'll call her Mary. They started to speculate that Mary must be drinking a lot because they don't see her at church anymore. My sister started to wonder what they were saying about her when she wasn't around.

So why am I shaking mad? In the first two scenarios, the information isn't common knowledge. They learned it through friendships in the church. They set themselves up as being caring people who want to help and be involved in ministry and helping to change teens lives and then when they get a juicy tidbit, they are out there telling everyone. If they don't have enough tidbits to fill up a lunch conversation, they will start speculating.

Good thing they don't know about the pregnant teen or the girl who was molested! Soon everyone would know about them.

So what did I do? Well, I was a good tattle-tale. (I hate tattle-tales.) They are wanting to work with the teens in leadership. They actually want to be in charge of one and run it. So I called up the guy in charge of the group of teens I work with and told him that these people take personal, sensitive information and gossip about it over lunch after church on Sunday afternoons. I told him I was really angry, and he could tell them I told him. I said it was up to him what he wanted to do.

I know. Not very forgiving of me. But they are taking advantage of people's friendships.

RUDE!

How would you feel if your confessional was aired to others?

L.A.F.S.?

Does Love at First Sight exist? I don't know. It never did for me. We look at people and they might fit our dating type, they might not. If they don't, we usually dismiss them mentally and continue looking.

The quiz in the post below was to have people identify what their type was. Everyone is sleeping in today, and I cannot wait, so I am going to make my point.

I think whatever our "type" of person is that we are attracted to is the combination of the most superficial things in ourselves that we are attracted to. For purposes of dating, types are important. For purposes of relationships, types fall apart.

We might be attracted to the "outdoor" type because we like the idea of having a rugged man around to handle business. What he might end up being is a beer drinking couch potato unless outside.

We might be attracted to the high maintenance person who is beautiful. But underneath, the relationships all boil down to how that person is feeling or looking. They don't have much time to truly worry about anyone else.

Types vary. And I could never date outside of my type. I needed the pretty man. I was a pretty woman. It was just the way I wanted things. My eyes were magnets for the pretty boys. I had friends that weren't pretty boys, but I was never attracted to them.

So, once again, how did I end up with the punk? He changed my type. I have to bully him into shaving sometimes. He keeps his head shaved for the most part because he has no clue what to do with hair. He has to ask me if color match to wear. He does not own a tie. He hates the smell of Obsession cologne.

But when it boils down, none of those things matter. Sure, my biggest fantasy with J is to take him to Banana Republic and buy him a whole new wardrobe that he would happily wear, but that's not gonna happen.

The other thing is that we have no hobbies in common. Not one. Well, I take that back. We both like to play volleyball but we haven't done that since college. He plays music. I have previously divulged that I cannot even play the armpit. He is an all around athlete. I am a klutz. I like to go camping and hiking. He prefers staying at home. I like to travel. He hates watching movies. I am a movie buff. I am a social butterfly. He is mostly anti-social.

So what's the deal? We have the same beliefs. We are faithful to each other, considerate, honest and we both have really good senses of humor and an aversion to fighting with each other. I look out for him, he looks out for me. We communicate the same way (although that did take some work). We think a lot alike. I think he is funny when he is trying to be. He thinks I am funny when I am not trying to be.

And the biggest asset we have is that he knows how to diffuse an Amber-bomb in about 2 seconds flat before it goes off.

Catching the Meaning

A survey is taking place today, right here today! Your opinion counts.

Luke, How many times in your life have you heard, "Luke, I am your father?" I woke up early with that thought trapped in my head. (Just kidding, it didn't get in there until I was pouring coffee.)

Why do we wake up some mornings feeling like we can accomplish something and other mornings we wake up, and taking a shower seems like a monumental task? I don't get it. Today I am feeling all ambitious. Yesterday I couldn't stay awake. I read The Catcher in the Rye yesterday because Jake’s lies reminded me of Holden’s. The first time (well, first hundred) I read that book, I couldn’t get into it. I finished the whole thing about a year and a half ago. I kinda forced myself so that I could appear intelligent if the subject of The Catcher in the Rye ever came up. Then Jake’s lies inspired me to pick it up, because his lie about being able to see only black and white out of one eye sounded exactly like something out of that book. (It wasn’t in there. That was a Jake original.)

But this time when I read the book, I laughed the whole way through. And what do I owe this appreciation of the book to? Blogs. It reads like a week long blog. He just rants about what is wrong with the world. He thinks he is being sneaky by explaining the world around him but ends up telling more about himself than anything. And I laughed through the whole thing.

Happy Easter, everyone! I wish you a happy weekend full of the moments you always wait for the weekend to experience. (Oh, and if you will feel guilty if you miss church on Easter Sunday, don't forget to stop drinking early enough on Saturday to make it to church.)

Happily Ever After?

We got engaged in front of a washing machine because I lost my temper and told him to “Shut up or do something about it.” We had been the closest of friends for a year. We had been dating for eleven months. I was done with college and moved back to Sedona. I worked at a restaurant and was getting hit on all the time. I knew he and I had talked about marriage, but he was still just a boyfriend and he lived far away now. And it was confusing to me. So I told him in regards to getting married to, “Shut up or do something about it.”

He did something. He went inside and got the engagement ring and proposed. I spent the rest of the night throwing up because I had a heat stroke.

Apparently he had planned something more romantic and I screwed that up, too. He came up on Memorial Day weekend to Sedona. I love Schnebly Hill. You can go up there and see all of the area and it seems like you can see every single star in the universe up there. I had told him about it and he wanted to go. I was surprised because my husband is not fond of outdoor stuff. He is into sports and whatnot, but hiking, camping, fishing, etc is not his cup of tea. I didn’t think sitting on a hill you have to drive 5 miles of dirt road to get to was of any interest to him.

So when he came to visit the first night, my sister was in the car with us. We were close to Schnebly Hill and I asked if he wanted to go then. He said no. So I just figured he didn’t really want to go, and it didn’t dawn on me that he didn’t want to go at that moment because my sister was with us. How romantic is it to propose in front of your girlfriend’s sister? About as romantic as in front of a washing machine, I suppose.

So two or three other times throughout the weekend he would casually ask if I wanted to go to the Hill. I thought I was being polite by not making him do something he didn’t want to do so I kept saying, “No. That’s okay.” He didn’t want me to get suspicious so he didn’t push the issue.

And about three weeks later we were having the, “Do something about it” conversation.

Of course I said yes. And the proposal story just fits us anyway.

So we had a long distance relationship for almost a year. And we fought incessantly. I think mostly because when I would get to see him, there was always a built up expectation of something great. It was always the same as it was. He hated talking on the phone for more than five minutes. I wanted to stay on the phone just to hear him breathe.

He was in a band, playing basketball and going to school full time. I was waitressing to pay for our wedding.

The arguments got so stupid and common that I had to ask myself a few months before the wedding, “Do I want to marry this guy?”

I thought about it for a long, long time. My conclusion wasn’t the most cheery, romantic conclusion ever. I decided I would rather be miserable with him than without him.

I moved back to Phoenix a month or two before the wedding. Once we were back to seeing each other almost daily, we were (as Forrest Gump says) like peas and carrots again. Everything was fine.

I was not a stressed out bride, freaking out about everything. And he was a smart groom and let me do whatever I wanted. He had no preferences on anything. I ordered my wedding. He showed up. (Insert groom “HERE”)

We decided to throw a wedding like a big freakin’ party. We had about 250 people. The ceremony lasted about 10 minutes and that was with the original song J wrote for me and sung as a surprise. (How he got through it, I don’t know. The whole ceremony sounded like it was spoken in Yiddish to me.)

The party lasted hours and hours. Our cake cutting song was…well…a Cake song. I have a picture of the bridal party song with all the people lined up in a row doing the can-can. I think we did, “We are Family” on that one. It was a great time.

Please Don't Give Me the People's Elbow!

I don't remember the first time I saw or talked to J. I don't remember our first "date". I don't remember the first song we listened to together or the first place we ate. To this day, we still don't have a "song".

I do remember our first kiss. It goes down in the history books as the most awkward kiss ever. EVER.

We used to converse with our heads close together. One night, we were doing the usual conversing within each other's personal space. After a long pause, he leaned over and kissed me. What did I do? I turned my head away. (Slap to the forehead: doh!)

We sat like that for about 20 minutes. Without speaking, we both got up and went back to our apartments. He didn't try again for another month and a half.

I also remember our first fight. (I am a woman. So sue me.) It was comedic, actually. Up until that moment in my life, I didn't know female tears had any power. We fought and fought and then I burst into tears. He melted. We made up. We kissed.

And that was exciting. It was spine tingling and toe curling. It was what a real kiss should be.

About two months later we broke up. For a whole day. He was being a long-term jackass and I actually like myself. He wouldn't really talk to me after we got back from Winter Break. For almost six weeks I would have to drag "hi" and "bye" out of him. He would act normal and happy with everyone else.

And the school dweebs were hitting on me, not knowing I had a boyfriend. What is the use of a boyfriend if you are still going to get overtly hit on by those guys?

So one night he was being a particularly good jackass so I called, "Jeremy!" (In my mean tone).

He walked over to my door. I asked him if he still wanted to have me as a girlfriend. He said he wasn't sure if he wanted any girlfriend. I said, "Good. You don't have one anymore," and slammed the door in his face.

Well, of course I called my mom and told her J and I had broken up. "But what about the Christmas pictures?" She said. Mom, we don't need pictures of me and my ex-boyfriend. "But you're in them, honey."

MOMS!

So the next night I waited until the coast had cleared (ie no one was around to make a scene in front of) and went to tell Jeremy my mom wanted a picture. I strolled up to him very casual like, "I need to talk to you."

He said, "Good. I need to talk to you too."

Aw crap! Not what I wanted to hear. (I have 2 dating rules. One is to never go out with someone you have broken up with.)

J began, "I couldn't sleep last night. I talked to Jim until 3 in the morning. The problem is when I went home over Christmas I realized you were the one and it scares me." He practically begged for me back. It was a really good excuse. For the first time ever, I broke one of my dating rules.

Several months later, we had gone out to a nice restaurant and some sort of show. It sucked. Neither of us wanted to go and the story of why we had to is too boring to write down. But afterwards, we went and watched TV in his apartment. He was laid out on the couch, and I was laying next to him. My head was on his chest and I could hear his heart beating.

And something kind of solidified in me and I knew. I knew that was exactly where I was made to be. No where else on earth was made for me besides that place. It sounds corny and cheesy but it was the only time I have felt that in my entire life.

I knew J for a year and eleven months and then we were engaged. That's when the fighting began.

(You see how long these are? And I am describing a single note in one of Beethoven's symphonies. You see why I must stop like this. Please don't hate me. Please don't give me the People's Elbow.)

You're Not My Type

I always dated the pretty boys. You know the type- the guys that take longer to get ready than I do, and I take at least an hour. I didn't date the cheesy ones that thought they were cool but weren't or that used tanning beds- only the gorgeous ones that smelled really good. (Don't get me started on the cologne Obsession.) Muscles are a plus for most people but were a requirement for me. Tall was a bonus being that I am just a hair under 6', but I did date some guys that were a few inches shorter than me. If they dropped under 5'7", it just looked ridiculous, although their face would be right about at my breast level, so for them maybe it would have been okay.

But I digress as usual.

I always dated my type. It didn't vary too much. I was attracted only to my type. It didn't vary at all in that respect. I tried dating a few that weren't my type, but it usually only lasted a few hours before I got annoyed because they didn't have the good looks to keep me entertained and entranced past their first paragraph of speaking.

Kind of like this blog, I am sure.

90% of my friends growing up were male. I relate to males quite well. I am sarcastic as can be, pretty sharp with my tongue. (No innuendos intended.) I was a tomboy growing up. I liked to be outside. I hated playing with dolls. I liked Matchbox cars much better. I used my imagination all the time. I did not own Barbies. The only doll I ever got that I was really excited about was my Cabbage Patch Kid, but years later when Garbage Pail Kids came out, that was much better. Riding my bike and skates (they didn't have in-line skates back in the day) were my favorite thing. I was my own extreme sports girl.

Throughout high school and college, I always related to guys better than females. My best friends were always female, but the majority were male.

I met J my freshman year of college. We hung out. He had a car and would take me to work. He was a troublemaker and also sarcastic. I loved taking him on verbally. We would wrestle over the dumbest things and he always, inevitably, got hurt. He was funny, funny, funny. If he were my type, we would have dated.

He wasn't.

He was more "alternative". He had a shaved head, five earrings, a tattoo and a long, black goatee. He was skinnier than I was which was pretty hard to do. At 6'4", he probably weighed 150 pounds when soaking wet dressed in his full wardrobe. He was into sports and music. He had the rattiest looking car of five colors and a sliding roof- which he assured me was cool. He drove other vehicles at times. I never saw him on the weekends. He showed up to morning classes with a Mountain Dew and Snickers for breakfast.

He was the one person I felt I could be honest with all the time. He was a "bad kid" at the college, just like me. (Remember the story of the daisy dukes? This was that time frame and the college I went to had a dress code.)

J became one of my best friends. People always asked why we didn't date. (Do you see any muscles? How many days does he go before washing his hair again? He has no fashion sense.)

Anyway. How could you date someone you aren't physically attracted to? You can't.

I was doing homework in my dorm. I went to go grab a book I needed. The book was next to the window that overlooked the campus. I saw J talking to the college flirt. (She was ugly. She never had a boyfriend. All she wanted was a boyfriend.)

I went back and completed my homework. I finished and put back the book. I glanced out the window, and J was still talking to that girl.

I got mad.

My jaw dropped. "Oh my God," I said as my eyes glazed over. I was stunned. I was jealous. I loved J.

My freshman year was drawing to a close. I had only 3 weeks left. I loved someone! And I couldn't play the usual dating games because we had been such close friends for almost a year. I was always honest with him. I never cared what he thought of me. And I began to act awkward around him, or at least I thought I did.

How did I fall for the punk guy?

School ended. I went home for the summer.

The Squirrel Made Me Do It

Two true stories of the craziness that is me:

I had a really stressful day. I just wanted to go home and have a shot or three. I got home and I couldn't decide if I should drink or go jogging. My sister convinced me jogging was a better alternative. As I was getting ready, it began to rain. I thought it might be a sign from God to take a shot instead. I finished getting my jogging gear on and decided to go out in the rain. It wasn't too heavy. I figured I would just go around the block. I finished the block and kept going on my normal route. It felt great. By the time I got back, I wasn't stressed and I didn't need a shot anymore.

The other story took place on Saturday. I had to get gas for my car. The place I go gives a free candy bar with every fill up. It seemed a waste to not take the free candy bar. So I took the candy bar after fighting with myself for a few minutes. I got in the car and drove off with the candy bar sitting happily in the seat next to me. I opened it up. I sniffed it. It smelled like very good chocolate. I put it back in the wrapper and another argument with myself ensued. It was a candy bar that comes in two pieces. I took a piece out and stared at it some more. I rolled down my window and tossed it out. I continued driving. I went another half mile and took out the other piece. I sniffed it. I put it back in the wrapper. I took it out of the wrapper. I tossed the piece of candy out the window.

If you find a very wired squirrel in Sedona, that is probably my fault.

Hear Ye! Here Ye!

So here's what I'm gonna do:

As President of the world (aka "Amberland"), I have decided the following:

1. A major amusement park shall be in every town so that WalMart will not be the major highlight of any town again.

2. I shall enforce the T-Shirt rule. It needs to be done. It will automatically change color as people's moods, wants and needs change. (PMSing women will have a color, too.)

3. I shall make it so that every person has another person as a permanent companion so that they will feel sublimely happy without needing martinis every five minutes and will have lots of happy, fulfilled sex.

4. I shall make free martini/beer dispensers at every location imaginable. There shall be a free tram everywhere so there is no worries of drinking and driving. Drunk people shall get a different T-Shirt color and be corralled into one bar off premises for the duration of their drunkenness. Buzzed people are free to roam wherever they please.

5. Everyone gets to work at home if they want. The hours are yours to set, you just have to get your work done. No one else can do it. If you have a job that requires you to physically be there, you can take the free tram. You get to choose a job you like. Everyone gets paid the same amount of money. (I know, I am a socialist at heart. In real life, I'm not. But this is a utopia where everyone acts correctly.)

6. Anyone caught disrupting the peace and tranquility will be banned from Amberland and sent to France.

No Vetos Allowed!! Part 2

I am gathering information on what the people would like to have as my next act as "President of the World".

I am thinking of a few things:

1. Outlawing ugly people or really awkward people from hitting on others unless they are in the same catagory. (I suppose I would first have to enforce That Girl's T-shirt rule.)

2. For every day worked (I mean really worked, not just showing up to work), people get one day off to use whenever they want like a Monopoly "Get out of jail free" card. No more sick days or weekends. (If you work three days, you get three days off, what are you pissed off about?) If you show up to work and don't work and other people have to compensate for your slacker attitude, you must give them all of your Day Off cards. This applies to school as well.

3. Allow mid-income families to get college grants for their kids.

4. Free keg for making your bed in the morning. (This idea belongs to Jake.)

What would you like to see changed? I think this is a pretty good start. I haven't seen these on Republican or Democratic agendas, so I think I am on the right track.

I Have 2 words- EEEEeeeeeEEeewwwww!

I could not find a picture that was old enough to show what we kind of look like now but new enough to not show exactly what we look like now. I couldn't find any. The only ones I have are from childhood or within the past year it seems. In between has been a photo gap. There are plenty of me, plenty of her, but not any of me and her.

I wanted to show a picture so you would know that we do not look like lesbians in the remotest sense of the word. We do not have mullets. We do not wear flannel shirts. We dress like modern, pretty women that are concerned with such matters as fashion, hair and makeup.

But this backasswards place is just odd. A guy my sister went to school with saw us out and about tonight. He is tall and lanky with pre-mature balding hair and oversized glasses. He was talking to my sister. I sat down and she got up (we were bowling- nothing else fun to do in this forsaken backwater hole, not that bowling is fun but....Whatever) and he asked me if we (in reference to my sister and I) were dating. I looked at him. I kept looking at him. Who is this insect sitting at my table? Why is he talking? The only kind of lesbian I could be is one of those fantasy lesbians, not a real-life dike. (Or is it dyke? Whatever.)

SERIOUSLY!!

I asked him how many men he had dated. He took a minute and said, "None."

We are sisters dumbass. I have a wedding ring on. Why do you assume that if two semi-attractive women are hanging out together we must be "dating". Why would you assume that anyway? Do you live in a world where women are supposed to have a male escort and not go out alone? I really, really don't get it. I am baffled.

It is almost as bad as the girl in Minnesota wanting to know how close my sister and I were. She had just got done kissing another girl at the table of people who were just trying to have a good time and drink. I do not kiss my sister. I do not kiss my brothers. I do not even kiss cute cousins.

WTF???!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?

Now, my sister was going to blog about this on Monday, but this story needs to be told while it still stinks.

I am so glad I imported my male companion. I would hate to have to pick my husband from this narrow pool of specimen. It is in dire need of some chlorine. Maybe it should just be drained all together.

Stay tuned tomorrow for the 80 year old woman dancing in the room with the live band. Hillarious! I don't know if I can convey it in words, but I will give it a shot.

(I really need to find that picture. I feel quite insecure now. I need assurances that we look normal- not dikey. Why would someone ask that? I had never met this person before. It is like asking a large woman if she is pregnant. Do not ask that question unless you are 100% sure she is pregnant and/or you see a baby coming out!)

Post thought- I should have had the sense to take a picture of this ugly, dorky man a la That Girl Style.

No Vetos Allowed!

I nominate myself to be President of the World. Myself accepts.

As first act of President of the World (nominated, not elected), I shall institue a benefit to all those who pay bills on a monthly basis.

You now get one month off every year from paying bills.

The only requirement is that you use every cent you would spend on any type of bill (car, utilities, mortgage, etc) on yourself. For anything you want. And that month of bills will not count as delinquent or add another payment on at the end of the cycle. It's free.

The First

Jake is my first. He is the first blog I started reading with regularity and the only reason I found the rest of the "circle" that I read from. I will never forget Jake as long as I blog.

Brad M. was my first. He was the first guy I ever kissed. That was in 4th grade. We used to "catch" caterpillars together. His elbow was double jointed.

Edna was my first. She was my first real bestfriend.

Brian was my first. He was my first.....in the way people usually think of firsts. There were a total of four including my husband. Brian was beautiful. We lived in NM when we met. I ran into him in Phoenix when I was engaged. I felt very awkward.

Ian was my first boyfriend. I don't think we ever kissed. (4th grade)

Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance" was the first song I ever danced to with a boy.

A mini-skirt was the first thing ever stolen from me.

My husband is my first true love.

My first dog was Sassy.

The first time I really believed in prayer was after I prayed for my sister who was going through a lot of stuff and I started to see major changes very quickly.

I remember the first time I threw up when I was about five or six.

I remember my first teacher from Kindergarten.

I remember the first bike I ever got.

I remember a lot of firsts. Do you?

P.S. To my first Bloglove- we use HaloScan comments because ever since Blogger switched to their new comment format, it often takes 10 minutes (or never) to comment. Halo Scan doesn't freeze up so we are still free to move about the blogland, commenting our brains out.

Pre-programmed

Things my parents taught me that I still do to this day:

• Find something constructive to do when I am bored.
• Wear my seatbelt. Even if I am just going from one parking spot to another.
• Go to church & pray.
• Say please, thank you and excuse me with regularity.
• Read often.
• Work hard.
• I don't let how I feel dictate how I act.
• I feel guilty when I am sick.
• Laugh lots.
• Chew with my mouth closed.
• Find joy in small things.
• Enjoy camping.
• Have an extensive vocabulary.
• Laugh at myself.
• Reason out why I think or believe what I do.
• I do not burp in public.
• Don't depend on others to make decisions for me or to make me feel happy.
• Don't allow my circumstances to dictate how I react.

I am sure there are probably 1000 things my parents programmed into me. There are things they didn't train me to do but through some weird genetic quirk, I do anyway. For example, if my mom gets tired, she is totally irrational. ME TOO!!! (The other half of my family acts totally irrational if they get too hungry.)

Mundane Thursday

I have had two mostly relaxing days. It is wonderful. I am bored.

When I was growing up, if I were to utter the phrase, "I'm bored," my parents would make me mop the floor, wash the windows or some other equally mundane chore. I suppose it was their way of conditioning their children not to moap around the house saying, "I'm bored."

There are dishes in the sink awaiting me. I would rather feel like I was playing hookie from school, but everyone I know is a responsible, hard-working adult and can't just go play in the middle of the day.

Dishes, here I come!

---

Dishes never take as long as it looks like. Five minutes later I was sitting in front of my computer contemplating what to do. I was going to go see the movie, Hitch.

Then I realized that it was my civic duty to get outside and enjoy the beautiful weather for all those sad SOBs that couldn't because they are cooped up behind a desk somewhere.

So I went and pulled weeds in my backyard. Then I tried to figure out what I am always thinking needs to be done but I never have time to do it.

I went to WalMart and bought new bark chips for mulch and red lava rock. I freshened up my front yard with five bags of lava rock on the hill where the tree is and five bags of colored mulch where the bushes and flowers are.

Some things parents put in us is forever ingrained. If I'm bored I feel the need to work.

I Panicked

I ran out of pickles. I panicked. I was needing a snack, something to munch on. I had to go pick up dry cleaning. It is just a block from Dairy Queen. I thought, Dairy Queen has frozen yogurt, right? So I went to the drive-thru speakerbox. I looked at the menu. I saw no mention of frozen yogurt. A tinny voice rang out, "I'll be with you in a moment." I panicked. I pulled out of line and drove to Sonic. They might have frozen yogurt, right?

I pulled into the station and gazed at the menu. Pictures of hotdogs, hamburgers and tater tots were calling out, "Amber...Amber..." I did not see yogurt on the menu. I left. I had dreams of just pulling into every fast food place in town and just reading the menu. That's calorie free, right? But I knew sooner or later I would break down and do something I was going to regret. My sister's voice rang in my head, "Don't you feel great when you exercise, like it's an accomplishment?"

I bore down. I went to Sweet Jill's. She had a sorbet smoothie. I asked what that was. Sorbet (fat free, dairy free but not sugar free) mixed with soda water. SOLD!

Sugar is not on my diet but if I didn't feed the need, I don't know what would have happened. I sucked on my sorbet smoothie very happily as I walked through the grocery store to pick up my pickles (a super-sized jar so that won't happen again), happily ignoring the chips and cookies and various items that were trying to catch my eye- the hookers of the supermarket. Sluts! All they want is to put out their sugar. They name their price and you can take them home and have your way with them.

But not me, I had my sorbet smoothie and my jar of pickles.

You're Unique- Just Like Everyone Else

Branshine wrote about how she doesn't think she is catagorically "beautiful" until someone discovers the beauty within her.

I think there is the canned beauty of the media- the cookie cutter Barbie Doll woman and Ken Doll man.

But I think true beauty is not really what we look like. I think it is only discovered by observation. What is unique about a person is their true beauty.

I would be hard pressed to name the unique thing about me that makes me beautiful. I think that is part of the deal- someone has to discover it in us. Someday someone will discover that Sam likes to lay outside in the rain fully dressed just to let everything wash away. That will be beautiful. Someday a person will see That Girl dancing when she thinks no one is looking and she will become another dimension of beautiful. I am sure Blue will get caught doing a good deed soon and someone will be completely smitten with him. Star already has her beauty of honesty and passionate love of life.

The beauty we have isn't what the scale reads, what product label is on the jar or in our clothes, the shoes we wear or the boob size (or member size for the males) that we have (or don't have). It is about who we naturally are inside, the way we were made.

When we can be who we were made to be, that is when the true beauty shines through.

Mind over Matter

I have always been big on "mind over matter". I do not have an addictive personality, so when I am ready to be done with something, it's over.

So long cigarettes, so long bad habits, so long ex-boyfriends. I will never crave any of you again.

I firmly believe that all it takes to do something is will power. Just put your mind to it and if you really, really want to get to your goal, you will.

This could apply to just about any aspect of life. Right now, it is my dieting. My diet consists of fruits, vegetables, low fat cottage cheese, white meats, pickles, and Dreamsicles. (I am surprised that four cups of vegetables is the caloric equivelant of half a Girl Scout Cookie.)

At any rate, I think my mind has gone overboard this time. I have not been eating much but I have not been hungry. I used to be hungry all the time. I have lost 5 pounds since I started this thing two and a half weeks ago. I don't think that is healthy. But now I am stuck until June 1st. I have broken my body and my mind is in control now. Maybe I should try matter over mind?

OH!! And let me tell you that Blue is the MAN!!! He helped me get my HaloScan all worked out and change Blogger's Comment Title to Poultry Fodder. He offered to help and then sent me three really long emails to help me. I still didn't get it right so he told me I could call him and he walked me through it and said goodbye. How awesome is that? How often do we meet people that are nice for the sake of being nice? I love it!

The Story is so Weird It Doesn't Need a Title

Dear Readers,

You have been reading my blog for a while now. I just finished my list of 100, so you know I am strange.

But this is too strange. I don't know what has gotten into me, honestly.

I have been married for six years. I have been off birth control for over a year. I do not have kids, I am not pregnant. I do not want babies. I am scared of the first year of being home with this person. I do not like kids from the ages of 7-12 for the most part. I like toddlers and teenagers.

So I got the often asked question again on Saturday, "When are you and J having kids." I said, "I don't need kids. I have teens."

I was referring to the teens I work with and love. She knew this. This woman is a mom of six. She has biological children, adopted kids and foster care children.

Apparently there are close to 100 teens in my county alone that do not have parents, are emancipated and awaiting adoption. I could not imagine going through that time in my life without parents, as angry as I would get with them at times.

And the idea wouldn't go away. It gnaws at me.

I want to adpot thrown away teens.

Straight jacket, please!!

Reasons I Hate WalMart

WalMart is the only option in my town.

It is supposed to be have "lower prices". Why is it that every time I go in, I spend somewhere between $30 and over $100? Nothing in my cart cost over $15 and most everything was $1-$4. It's not like I am buying random stuff either, just normal household items.

Why does everyone want to put their cart right in my way where I can't get around, cut in front of me or stop in an area so I cannot move?

Why do so many women look like strung out Cocaine addicted hookers with small children?

What is up with the guy wearing a button down, long sleeved nice collared shirt with sweats?

Why is that girl wearing a trucker hat just crammed over her greasy hair? Her hair is still hanging out. We can still see it is greasy.

Why are there no parking places within 6 city blocks of the front door?

Why is there not a map or directory or a store employee around when I don't know where something is?

What is up with wearing 6" heels and carrying an infant with your dark black eyeliner? You might fall over in those heels from your inability to see through all that gunk and split your baby's skull open. Oh, I get it. Then you could sue WalMart because you dressed like a hooker while carrying a baby. (I know this sounds a lot like the one above, but it is different. Cocaine hookers do not dress attractively at all as if to say, "I have no money as you can tell by my attire. However, I do have a vagina and a liking for cocaine if you are interested.")

What is going on with a 30-something year old balding man sporting a 1" mohawk? We can tell you are going bald, dude. (Mohawk! As in all the way around the skull, punk 13 year old mohawk.)

Why do children scream at such a high decibel when inside?

Why do moms let their children sprint down the aisles, almost getting creamed by four grocery carts who in turn end up colliding with each other while trying to avoid the toddler? Why do the mothers follow after smiling like their child is being cute?

Why are the employees not around when I can't find something but then when I find the aisle I want, they are standing in front of the section I need to look at stocking items and get an annoyed look when I am trying to peer around their non-see through bodies?

Oh, but they did have bottled orange juice in the soda thingie at the check out. That was yum.

My List of 100

I am really bored. I cleaned house and then couldn't think of anything to do.

List of 100 Miscellaneous Facts about Amber

1. I learned to talk in Texas. I still have words that have a drawl to them.
2. I think getting a boob job is stupid.
3. I do not like the taste of beer or wine. Mixed drinks only.
4. I was a blonde growing up. I went to a dark “sable” a year and a half ago.
5. I do not like ham.
6. I do not like McDonalds, either.
7. The only diet drink I like is Diet Dr. Pepper.
8. Chips are my downfall.
9. I grind my teeth when I sleep.
10. I still sleep with stuffed animals sometimes.
11. I call my dog “handsome”, not cute.
12. I used to be a clean freak. Then I got married.
13. I got married at 22. I never wanted to get married. I met J and it was right.
14. Some dreams in my life have changed my decisions.
15. I always wanted to leave my small town. I left. I came back.
16. I hate Wal-Mart. I much prefer Target.
17. I prefer Safeway to any other grocery store.
18. My wardrobe primarily consists of items from Lerner’s New York and Ann Taylor.
19. I get my hair done every six weeks. It costs $75.
20. I almost always drive over the speed limit.
21. I drive a Honda. My first car was a Honda.
22. I have three siblings.
23. My parents are still married.
24. My dad is a pastor.
25. I have done almost every drug with the exception of ones that require a needle.
26. I don’t want kids. Neither does my husband.
27. All of our friends from before we were married have kids.
28. Most of my dad’s family is overweight. I fear becoming fat. I have always been the skinny person.
29. I grew up in the church. From the age of 16-20 I hated God.
30. I like to flirt so I try really hard not to.
31. This is a long list…..My favorite color growing up was blue. Now I don’t have a favorite. I like them all.
32. I have a homosexual uncle.
33. I think most of my family members are good looking.
34. I like country music. (Not exclusively but in addition to)
35. I paid to have my dogs trained.
36. I pay to have someone kill our weeds in the front yard.
37. I used to have someone come clean the house so I wouldn’t fight or be mad at J.
38. I do not like clutter. It makes me tense.
39. I like to organize things in a row or into patterns.
40. I usually eat one kind of food at a time.
41. I do not like to hang up clean laundry (or put it away).
42. I was pregnant once at the age of 18. I considered getting an abortion. I had a miscarriage.
43. I have never been East of Mississippi.
44. I have been to 3 other countries.
45. I can speak Spanish pretty well.
46. I never went to high school. I got really good grades.
47. I went to college so I could quit getting into trouble.
48. I did not like other females before college.
49. My favorite fruit is oranges. It is the food I crave most often.
50. I like to laugh.
51. I cannot tell jokes well.
52. I like to write but I don’t think I am very good at it.
53. I am not afraid of anyone or anything.
54. I believe in God so strongly that I think things can be changed instantly because of Him.
55. I believe God is not a Him or Her, but it all we have for language.
56. I was born in California.
57. I had my first boyfriend in 4th grade.
58. I did not have any friends in 6th grade.
59. I started getting hit on at the age of 12.
60. I did modeling (small stuff) as a teenager.
61. I once hypnotized a girl and she freaked out. I cannot even begin to explain because it was some X-Files stuff.
62. I am good at hypnotizing people.
63. My mom thought one of my dogs was sleeping all day. It had been dead all day.
64. I do not like people to ask for the first of anything that is mine or the last of anything of mine.
65. I do not like people in my personal space, therefore riding on an airplane and being nice is hard.
66. I would rather be hot than cold.
67. I do not floss.
68. I was a tomboy growing up.
69. I taught my dog to climb trees.
70. I liked to play in the creek.
71. My dad used to spank me when I broke rules.
72. My Big Wheel got stolen. It was pink with tassels.
73. I like to cook.
74. The first time I baked I made muffins with ½ cup of salt instead of ½ teaspoon of salt. I ate the whole thing. It tasted horrible.
75. I shared a room with my sister all the way through high school and even during college summers.
76. I used to wear lots and lots of blue eye shadow and very big earrings and my hair’s bangs would be very tall.
77. I think when kids get into a room together, the room smells bad afterwards.
78. I prefer Oust over Lysol.
79. My husband has four vehicles.
80. I don’t like cats very much.
81. I used to chase boys with snakes when I was small.
82. I once convinced my brother’s friend to give me the password into their boy’s clubhouse.
83. I once gave my older brother a bloody nose by making him run into a tree while blindfolded.
84. My big toenail fell off twice in three years when I was a kid.
85. I hit my teeth on the side of the pool during swimming lessons when I was five. My big front tooth grew in crooked.
86. In sixth grade I was disqualified in a writing competition because the judges thought the poem I wrote was plagiarized. I wrote it.
87. In Junior High I would wish the bus would just keep driving on the way to school in the morning and never come back.
88. I rode the short bus in high school because the handicapped kid lived next door, the bus was quiet and air conditioned and the seats were bigger.
89. I have been in a lot of fights.
90. I was the block bully in elementary school.
91. A friend of mine wasn’t allowed to swim in the neighbor’s pool because she was black.
92. I lost my virginity because all of my friends were having sex and I wanted to be “in the know”.
93. A whole house party broke out into a huge brawl because two guys were fighting over me.
94. Honesty is very important to me.
95. I have not always been an honest person.
96. I have a scar under my chest from going over a picket fence at the age of 16 when I was at a party and the cops showed up.
97. I would ride my bike all over town even as a teen before I got my driver’s license.
98. The school bully befriended me in 7th grade. No one picked on me anymore. She dropped out in 8th grade when she got pregnant. People started picking on me again.
99. In high school people started liking me.
100. I have never broken any bones. I had stitches once for slamming my chin on the river bed in Sedona.

DYCB!

It makes me want to burn down the house and shoot the dogs and rip people limb to limb. I hate it! I think I am going to be okay when I start, but nope! Something always happens to irk me. I don't exactly what sets me off. I get so driven and focused on doing what I want to get done that if something or someone gets in my way, I want to blow it apart.

I am cleaning. In-laws are coming tomorrow. Add it to the list of reasons not to appreciate in-laws. I would rather be playing and having fun. Maybe I should see what results buzzed cleaning gets. (YES! Cleaning on a Friday Night. In-laws. Grumble. Grumble.)

DYCB

Damn You Cleaning Bitch! (That's my alter ego. I don't like her much.)

Halo Scan Has Not Been Added

Why? Because I was going to let Halo Scan add its code by itself since the directions on how to do that weren't entirely clear. So, off Halo Scan goes to add itself and it is there twice under every post.

Usually I have zero to three comments so this isn't a problem.

I did have to change my format to get Halo Scan Halo Scan off the screen. Oh well!

On second thought, maybe there aren't more comments because no one can comment.

Back to the drawing board!

National Sunshine Day

Let the party start! Everyone toast to sunny, warm days that make Amber Lynn crazy and silly as all get out! Some people swear by being influenced by the moon. I know I am influenced by the sun. I love sunshine and warmth and even feeling hot. I love it, love it, love it. To the point of insanity.

But, hey, what's not to like about insanity?


So happy National Sunshine Day, or at least, Happy Western Sunshine Day. Let's Toast! Let the celebration begin. Be as silly as possible. Say "Holy Cannoli" over and over if you wish. We don't care. Have at it!

Pssstt...the proper mix for the Orangecicles is 1 can of Diet Dr. Pepper to 2 oz. of Smirnoff Twist Orange. I am finishing my 3rd now. I love National Sunshine Day!

A Few Degrees South of Sanity

Personalities are many faceted. Sometimes I get so hyper I am like a kid. Sometimes it's all business and you would think I have been in my profession for 25 years. I have worked through a lot of issues but if you knew me 10 years ago and then met me now you probably would think I am a stunt double, not the same person.

Since the middle of October it had been rainy until about a week or two ago. I am a "Sunshine Baby" or "Desert Rat". I am not used to long bouts of dreariness. So the sun came out, I got a new job, new outfits and I was feeling quite silly and rambunctious.

I am pretty sure equilibrium has been restored. I think I have been acting over the top about bunches of stuff. Last Sunday, I had so much energy it was quite ridiculous. Today, the sun has been out for two weeks (for the most part) so stuff is starting to bloom so I had to order my allergy prescriptions. Life is back to normal!

I am IronWoman

I am a SUPER trooper. I think I deserve a piece of chocolate for this one. (A pickle will suffice.)

I went jogging today. About halfway through, it felt like I had a razorblade in my shoe. I stopped, took off my shoe and checked everything. Nothing. I put my shoe back on. I continued jogging and my toe continued to feel like it was being sliced deep. I started to slow down. It still hurt. So I slowed way down. It still hurt. I figured out the only way it was going to feel better was to NOT walk on it so I hurried up so I could get home so it would stop hurting.

I got home, took off my shoe and sure enough, my toe is cut. By the toe next to it. When I got the pedicure almost two weeks ago, the lady must've filed my nail in a straight square. The corner of the nail was rubbing against the neighboring toe. You get the idea. I think due to my suffering I should automatically lose five pounds today.

Latte Anyone?

Yesterday I felt all ambitious. I decided to clean the coffee maker at home. I ran vinegar through it and then a whole pot of clean water. There was still some "cruddies" in the pot. So I started over with a bit of Oxy-clean. I ran another pot of clean water through and it was sparkling. Just for good measure, I ran another pot of clean water. The thing looked brand new. It is probably 10 years old.

I was feeling a sense of accomlishment. It is one thing to clean off the top of the fridge, but this is a whole other level.

I woke up this morning, fed the dogs and stumbled over to the coffee maker. I opened the basket to put in a filter and there was a dead, wet spider curled up in the bottom.

Mi Familia Es Muy Guapo

As I get older, one of my favorite cousins is Andrew. I invited him to come with me and sis to Las Vegas for fun times, but he's not 21 yet. Cripes!!

He's a fun, sweet kid. And he's still a kid. I guess his Northern Arizona cousins will have to show him a fun time in Vegas when he does turn 21.

I also find my other cousin to be quite wonderful and loving. She has always looked up to me. We have fun times. She loves Napoleon Dynamite. (Whaddya think?!?)

I am trying to get her to come up and visit me for a 3 day weekend but she has ballet lessons or try outs during Spring Break AND she has had her driver's permit for 2 months but hasn't bothered to try driving yet. (I refuse to send her on the bus because one time I took the Greyhound and the guy next to me was all surly and mean but I couldn't go to another seat because the bus was full. He got yelled at by the driver for putting his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him and bonking the occupant of that seat with his feet. Just before we pulled into my stop, he has a seizure and started foaming and the mouth and convulsing. DRUGGIE!!!)

Say hi to my family, everyone! (Can you believe Alyssa didn't have a date to the prom???!)

Viva Las Vegas!

Sis and I are going to Las Vegas. I can wear halter tops and not get noticed! (Just ask Star- she fell and no one helped. RUDE!) I am very excited at the prospect of walking around drinking while looking at all the pretty lights.

We decided to stay at one of the big hotels right at the heart of the strip. The prices weren't too much more than staying down the strip in an older place and we are treating ourselves, so why not?

So she looks up prices on Travelocity and Orbitz. Orbitz costs a penny less per night. I go to click on the link she gave me for Orbitz. It didn't work. I tried for about five minutes and then:

Amberlicious says:
Orbitz isn't cooperating with me
Amberlicious says:
And I am weird so I don't want to pay Travelocity a penny.
LotsaFun says:
What day are we coming back on?
Amberlicious says:
Tuesday
LotsaFun says:
That is funny
Amberlicious says:
Why?
LotsaFun says:
Because you don't want to pay Travelocity a penny, it's even funnier because I don't want to either
Amberlicious says:
heehee

And some business person, being quite the entrepreneur (I learned that word in college.) makes people pay to ride on a bus to get a tour of the lights at night. I was joking that we should do that for fun (it's cheaper than a $90 show.)

LotsaFun says:
A bus? We are gonna walk our tipsy butts around.

I imagine it will be something like those little toys we used to have growing up (the weebles or wobbles or something) that would never really stand up straight but in halter tops, carrying a tasty beverage of some kind.

You Really Love Me-Underneath It All

When I first met him, I took him at face value. Sounded good- looked good. Why not? I would always, unquestioningly do whatever he would ask. I became a puppet for him. If I saw someone trying to out-do me, I would always one up them, thinking I was doing better than they were.

In high school, I would do things I knew he didn't want me to do. But I did them and felt guilty. It was horrible. I wanted to be liked by people I had no business being friends with and I knew he disapproved but I forged ahead. Eventually the guilt went away. I would still admit to knowing him if people asked because they would hear something about our relationship. It didn't mean much though.

After a while, he decided to let me be friends with those people. It was what I thought I wanted. Then I got angry. I cursed him. I did horrible things just to anger him and show him I could make it on my own. I didn't want him in my life anymore. I tried to kick him out. He left me alone. Life got worse but I was determined to make it on my own.

Then one day I realized that I was being stupid. This guy had promised to give me everything I ever wanted. He took care of me when I let him. Life was simple when I was friends with him. So I went back. It was hard at first. I had to swallow my pride and tell him sorry. I was afraid he might try to hurt me or continue to ignore me or tell me to go away. Instead, he still loved me.

So I slowly began to do things to be nice to him. I have never forgotten how horrible I was to him so I always keep him in mind. Sometimes I want to do something that I know would hurt him. I struggle over it, but in the end I won't do it. I remember how it was when he wasn't around. It wasn't fun.

Now I feel so free. Not just barely free- abundantly totally free. I do pay attention to not just giving in to doing whatever I want to. It's like any friendship. I have to be aware of him and be considerate. But the coolest thing is the total abundant love I have. It makes me whole. It makes it so I can go through life making good decisions because I am not so worried about what people will think because I know at the end of the day, no matter what, I love him, he loves me and he's the only one that really counts. I find that I am kinder to people because I am secure. I can help people because I myself have more to give. I can be drained of all my resources for caring and concern because I know he's just gonna fill me up anyway. His love for me never runs out. He has been watching me and loving me for a very long time.

He'll be with me forever. He promised. I believe him. He didn't give up during the rough times. He stood by, ready to lend a hand when I fell in my 6" slut heels. How could I not love him?

The Saga Continues

I can't eat chocolate so I bought pickles instead. Thanks, That Girl.

A great drink while dieting: Diet Dr. Pepper with Smirnoff Twist Orange. Tastes like a dreamsicle. Thanks, Leaf!

Stupid is as Stupid Does

I wasn't understanding. Some things are just too stupid to understand.

I had some paperwork my client needed for an insurance quote on a rental property. They were all questions that neither her nor I would ever know, so I forwarded it to the seller. The seller forwarded it to her insurance company. Her insurance company filled it out and faxed it to me. I faxed it to the insurance company for a quote.

The insurance company that requested the information from my buyer was the same insurance company that filled out the information. It is the same small branch of people and everything!

Does this make any sense or is it one of those, "You had to be there." things?

A Scooby Doo Moment

I woke up and didn't want to be awake. Sam the dog kept making some obvious morning noises that don't constitue getting yelled at but are still enough to stir me out of my slumber.

How could you really get mad at him?

My sister has posted today about boys trying to figure out her boob size. It reminded me of a story from growing up together.

*Scooby Doo Moment* When I was 16, I was 5'10" and weighed maybe 125 pounds. Friends told me I could turn sideways and hide behind a flagpole. Lanky is a very good word. I had very little in the boob department. My sister was 12 at the time. She outgrew a bra and being the good, sharing little sister she is, she said, "This bra doesn't fit me anymore. Do you want it?" It didn't fit me either. It was too big. She hit puberty at 10. I hit puberty at 18. *Back to the present*

So what did God gift me with to balance out the universe?

*Scooby Doo Moment* When I was 18, my sister and I were hanging out. She walks into the living room with a cookie. "Will you get me a cookie?" I ask. "This is the last one," she says. I plead with her to give it to me. She won't budge. Being the older sister, I can usually get the little sister to do what I want without fighting or anything. I got her to move into the closet in 2 different houses. We shared a room for a very long time. Is this a flashback in a flashback? Back to the orginal flashback. She still has her cookie and hasn't eaten any of it. We chat a little bit and then she asks me, "How do you get people to do what you want all the time? You are really good at that. Will you teach me how to manipulate people?" I respond, "I will if you give me your cookie." *Back to the present*

So growing up my sister had the boobs and all the boys would have conversations with her and their eyes would never leave her chest. We discussed buying a button that said, "They don't talk back."

I had the ability to make people do almost anything I wanted. I don't know how, couldn't write a "how-to" book on it. It just was that way. I was great at manipulation. I could play my family like a fiddle. I could get guys to bow down. I could get friends or strangers to give me what I want. It just worked. I think it is something I picked up around the age of 2.

About the age of 20, I decided getting through life manipulating people wasn't fair. It destroys the balance of relationships. So I have given it up. Well, until the next time the last cookie is claimed.

It's all mind over matter

Two days of dieting down, 82 to go. Piece of cake!

Guess what blogger website name isn't taken? duh.blogspot.com I should jump all over that.

Did someone mention cake?

Cheeseburger in Paradise

I went snorkeling for the first time last year. At first the feeling was kinda freaky for me and I kept worrying that a shark was going to sneak up on me and take a bite so I kept brining my head up to look around for the tale-tale fin.

Once I settled down I really enjoyed myself. I had to concentrate on breathing because it was a little scary at first and I didn't want to start hyperventilating. But then I started to see some of the most colorful, vibrant fish I have ever seen. They beat what I saw on the beaches of Costa Rica. I was so entranced by some of the fish, I tried to move closer to get a better look...and came up with a mouthful of salt water. I almost drowned myself!

I went to Maui with my sister. Jeremy hates traveling and I really wanted to go. We went for nine days and had lots of pina coladas and got about 10 pounds of sand in our bikinis. Something about the moisture and salt water made my hair frizzy as all get out and I had to put coconut oil in it everyday. The air smelled like flowers. My skin loved the humidity.

My favorite day by far was the road to Hana. It is a crazy road that runs along the Eastern coast line and has lots of hairpin turns and one lane bridges. We went along the Southern coast of the island on a rough dirt road that voided our rental car agreement but it was well worth it and we didn't breakdown.

I am ready to go back to Maui and soon! Maybe we could have a blogger convention and I could write it off on my taxes.

A Lady's Arsenal

It felt good to talk about Jake in "Summer of Boofus the Rat".

This morning I started doing some light housework. I don't want to strain myself. I went into the bathroom in cleaning mode and cracked myself up! When I go in to get ready, I am happy everything is at my disposal. When I went in to clean, I saw it with a new set of eyes.

We have a pot of MAC blush and two pots of MAC eyeshadow. There is a blowdryer, curling iron, and off to the left is the straightening iron. Also featured: deodorant, perfume, brush set, foundation, Biolage gel, hairspray, hair lotion (half my hair is curly and half is straight the hair lotion stuff makes it settle down a bit), lipgloss, face wash, moisturizer, toothpaste a toothbrush and pretty barrettes. Oh, and then there is the small see through bag of miscellaneous items like eyeliner, mascara, concealer and some other stuff.

I am a diva!

Summer of Boofus the Rat

I was feeling reminiscent today and I was going to show my toes but then I ran into the Dreaded Ex and I had to write about that instead.

So now I am back to feeling reminiscent. There was a small window in my life for two, maybe three months that was like the middle of a sandwich. It was a transition "living with druggie ex-boyfriend to going off to college" summer. And in that time, I made a very special friend named Jake. (Not the Jake who frequents this blog.)

The summer of '96 I learned about chat rooms. There was a local one for Sedona and I started to talk to this person "Pyrone". We figured out we went to the same school, graduated the same year and had the same classes. Apparently he had figured out who I was but I didn't know who he was. (Blame it on all the pot smoking.) I was bored and decided I would go meet him.

We hung out almost every day after that. He was a tennis pro. He tried to teach me tennis but I always wanted to pretend I was in a home run derby instead and I would pound the neon green balls over the fence onto the highway. (I secretly always hoped I would cause an accident but it never happened.)

I saw every movie with Jake that summer and he never let me pay. I remember walking out of "Tin Cup". I remember when we watched "Independence Day" and the lady in front of us got scared at one point, jumped and her popcorn went flying out of her hand and rained down on us. I ate 500 pounds of sour patch kids that summer.

He almost messed his drawers the time I put a dead, stuffed tarantula that was in a glass globe at his desk. (They sell those spiders in Sedona for all of the hopeless tourists. I bought it because Jake was terrified of spiders. It was hilarious. He put it in his tennis bag that day and it was still in his tennis bag a month later. He didn't want to touch it.) He fell over backwards and ran up the stairs screaming like a girl. My sister and I laughed so hard we couldn't stand up.

We would get together with other teens and play hide and go seek when Talaquepaque would close down. (An artsy-fartsy mall with lots of shops and cool places to hide.)

Jake loved me. I could have dated him and he would have handed me the world on a silver platter. But I was very jaded and mean at that point in my life. I was trying to soften up, but the transition from a druggie's girlfriend to normal life wasn't quick. I really, really liked Jake but there was never any spark for me on my end. I toyed with the idea of dating him but I loved him as a friend and respected him so much that I knew I didn't want to date him. I would have ruled his life and made him miserable. He would have spent every penny on me whether I asked him to or not. He would have given everything to me and I would have greedily taken it and not given anything back.

He nicknamed me Penny Lane after the Beatles song. We spent many, many nights at Denny's until 2 or 3 in the morning. We would lie in the driveway at my house until dawn looking at the Milky Way.

And I went to college. And I know the moment I lost Jake forever was when my friend pointed out I had some black mascara in my blonde hair. He tried to join in to see where it was and I dismissed him and told him he wouldn't notice because it was a girl thing. Don't ask me why that was the moment he gave up on me, it just was.

I got married and Jake stopped calling. I hope he gets married and calls me again sometime. I owe him a lot. I miss him at the moment.

Always A Good Feeling

Before I begin, please allow me to point out I have added two new links to my favorite blogs on the side bar to your right.

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As I stated in my previous post, I bought an outfit just for today. So I look slammin' and I know it. I met with a client this morning at a coffee house to have him sign some papers. I hung out there for a while after he left surfing this wonderful blog world and checking in on every one's individual soap opera called "life". I think Annalisa, Jake and That Girl are all tied for most involved soap operas today.

Anywho- I was done surfing this blog world and I was walking out of the cafe when I hear my name called. I see this guy come jogging over to me from a side store. It took me a second to adjust to being focused on walking to my car to dealing with this intrusion. It was an ex-boyfriend from like 10 years ago. I moved back to my small town about three years ago and this is the third time I have seen him. I always look better than he does. It is that karma thing That Girl is always talking about. He is the only guy who has ever cheated on me. Why he is still around breathing and among the living I do not know. I guess I didn't care that much.

So his face is all lit up and he is truly happy to see me. I can tell he still has a thing for tall girls. He asks me what I have been doing for a living. He tells me what he has been doing. He tells me he got divorced over a year ago and wants to know if I am still married. Apparently he said being married "looked good on paper but it didn't work out in the details." I think that means that his wife was only 5'7" and not tall enough for his eye. He was always one of those guys who dated women for the hood ornament kinda thing. (There is a word for that, I just don't know what it is.)

YUP!!! Jackass, there is this thing called monogamy. Try it. There is a thing called being faithful. Really, try cherishing someone for who they are. Marry someone for friendship and build on that. Seriously! And quit sizing me up. I am married and even if I weren't you are at the bottom of the list of dating material even in this sad town.

Why did I date him???? I don't remember. He must've ignored me the first time we met.

Coffee with a client- $8
Seeing an ex-boyfriend who was a jerk and looking better than them- Definately at the top of the feel good list.
Having a good marriage and a husband who doesn't "roam"- Totally priceless

Shop & Learn

I love buying clothes. I went to the mall today in an upper scale part of Phoenix. There were teenagers driving cars worth three times my vehicle with their music bumping, all chrome wheels spinning and all in all, just pimpin'. I am glad I don't live in Phoenix. I feel this pressure to buy stuff- to keep up- to compare my financial status through stuff. No wonder my husband was upset with me when we lived there- I went clothes shopping on lunch break at the Arizona Biltmore when I used to live there. I would spend $100 on lunch break, on makeup alone!

Anyway, today's shopping expedition was toned down. I haven't been clothes shopping in almost six months. I had a gift card to use from Christmas so I went to go get an outfit for my new office. (I start tomorrow.) I ended up with four outfits and learned something new about myself.

There is a new fashion trend for the ladies- empire waisted shirts. They had one in particular that was also a halter top. I tried it on. I looked like a hooker (high class, of course). I loved the shirt. I felt like I should be walking down the red carpet or in the red light district- whatever.

I didn't buy any slutty clothes, but I loved seeing them on. I live in a small town where I know everyone and there is never a good reason to wear a shirt like that. *sigh* It would have been another $40 if I lived in the big city where you can go out with a group of girlfriends and wear that and not have to worry about standing out too much. Someone else will look way sluttier than someone wearing a beautiful but tantalizing top. In fact, I remember going to the Arizona Center Mall and seeing this girl wearing 6" stilleto heels that have the little ribbon thingie that crisscrosses half way up the calf. To compliment those, she was wearing cropped pants in an olive green color made out of the the material that used to be used for parachute pants. To top it off, she had a half shirt on. She might as well have had a sign that said, "I'm free and I'm free." Sad! (Who am I to talk? I know! My sister is going to post about the shorts I used to own.)

So tomorrow is the day I start at the new firm. FUN! I have my new, cute, non-slutty outfit to wear.

Simple Truth

Well, since I fessed up and now you know I am not as skinny as a super model (Sorry, Pete! Hope we can still be friends.), I suddenly feel the need to tell you something meaningful and revealing about myself. The blog world is just weird in the way that anyone can be anything. Star could be a 45 year old man with a beer belly for all we really know. (I am not saying she is, I don't think that- but it is an example.) I am always so used to people knowing I am a "what you see is what you get" kinda lady. But no one here sees me and I'm not gonna stoop to tool status by posting a picture of myself or telling you my IQ. (Did I use tool status in the correct context?)