RedCouchFever

Times, they are a changin

2006-07-19T16:27:00.000-07:00

Now that I am acquiring a shiny new life, I think it is time that I get a shiny new blog to match. In my wedding colors, of course. From now on, you can find me here.

don't even think about it

2006-07-18T22:36:00.000-07:00

Pamela's wedding jun 10 2006 360
Originally uploaded by alien eyed girl.

This is the kind of family I want to be

2006-07-13T18:01:00.000-07:00

P1010041.JPG
Originally uploaded by suzeethe1.

I deserve more out of this relationship than I am willing to put into it

2006-07-10T12:34:00.000-07:00

Hi. It's nice to see you. I am a little busy right now with a plate that has too much on it. Who put all this stuff on my plate? I'm not even hungry! I ordered a salad!

This week, I am taking a seminar class from 9-5 Monday through Friday. My ass hurts already and it's only the first day.

I am currently being shouted at by an elderly woman here on campus. She sounds like that character Will Ferrell played on SNL that "COULD'T CONTROL THE VOLUME OF HIS VOICE". She is asking pointed questions about by laptop charger, yelling from across the courtyard. "ISN'T THAT SOMETHING. YOU KNOW IF THE LAPTOP WORKS BY THE CHARGER, DON'T YOU. YES YOU DO. THAT REALLY IS SOMETHING." Whatever lady.

The best boss ever, David Brent is back. He even has a new song.

I've got to go bite the inside of my cheek some more before my lunch break is over. The giant angry welt I've created by chomping down on it repeatedly isn't quite big enough yet.

2006-07-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

David Brent is back. And he has a new song

Til Death Do Us Prat

2006-06-28T13:29:00.000-07:00

Creating a ceremony from scratch is no easy task, my friend, but I think we finally have our vows worked out. Let me know what you think.

I Kate, take you Keith to be my husband, to be the Commander in Chief of the nation in my heart, to cross the streams of loneliness, riding on polished saddles of companionship. I hand you the seed packet of my womanhood, that you may have a bumper crop of abounding love. For all eternity.

I Keith, take you Kate to be my wife, to be my pardner on the dusty trail of life, to Fry up the Vittles in my Soul. I promise to always clean off my beard hairs from the sink of your heart, back and forth, forever.

I'm not through with you yet

2006-06-27T21:01:00.000-07:00

I am now the proud owner of two new siblings. Ahem. That's right. Some couples go out and buy themselves new cars every few years, or get themselves a yacht. My mother and stepfather are hooked on adopting. I am now the oldest of six (gulp) children ranging in age from 5 to 23. Holy chit.

At first I thought they were out of their ever loving minds for adding to their family at their age, but I think that it will be all right. The kids are sweet and adorable and they can't stop saying "Mommy" and "Daddy". They say the words like they are made of pure gold. J is 5 and talks like JFK.

When he gets nervous or uncomfortable, he says "H-O-P" over and over again. It's his mantra.

The other J is 6 and she is sweet and adorable and has been hoping to be adopted for a long time. Last night was her first night with them and she climbed into bed and kept saying, "Ahh, my own special bed!"

Elijah is pee-dance excited to have two new siblings.

To mark the beginning of their new siblinghood, the three of them took scissors and cut large chunks out of their hair. No one had the heart to yell at them.

Mostly dead all day

2006-06-27T20:26:00.000-07:00

If you were searching for me this afternoon, you would have found me making yogurt in the kitchen wearing a bikini and a cold towel on my head. The heat, it makes me whimper.

The yogurt maker is one of the 4356 gifts Keith and I received at our shower on Sunday, and I could not wait to try it out.

My little brother Elijah knitted us a potholder

I chilled wit my homegirrls

We oohed

We ahhed

We were kicked in the back by helpful children yelling, "I WONDER what it IS!" as we opened each gift

I think I did a pretty good job of not grimacing with the help of my good friend, Mimosa. Thanks Mims.

Overall, it was a wonderful party and Keith and I were touched by all the love man, all the love.

2006-06-27T20:22:00.000-07:00

Behold the before:

Behold the after:

Thank you, and good night.

it's hard out here for a wimp

2006-06-22T13:51:00.000-07:00

My answering machine is apparently feeling overwhelmed too. I don't want to say anything because the perky female voice is so cheery and sure of herself when she announces that the message was left at...1:44 A...M. I don't have the heart to tell her that I don't believe her.

I am actually better now. I took some Abilify and now I feel more...able. I also got some stuff done. It's amazing how the stress level goes down when you get shit done.

Keith and his mom are driving up tomorrow and our bridal shower is Sunday. I'm nervous because I hate opening presents in front of people. Even when I love the gift, my face gets locked in a red, pointy grimace and I emit a little squeak or gurgle rather than, "Oh thanks! napkin rings!" It's gonna be ugly.

My neighbors are arguing about whether or not the sun is straight up in the sky. "Oh. Fine, just as long as you're right, Nancy, that's all that matters. GOD!"

I can't wait for married life.

losing my mind

2006-06-20T18:16:00.000-07:00

These days my life is all about the frantic phone calls from Keith at Home Depot, "We have to pick the cabinets NOW because the walls are going to be framed next WEEK! This dishwasher has a Sabbath Timer! DO WE NEED THAT??" as I run to Home Depot's website and try to locate the items he is looking at.

Crazy wedding nightmares haunt me each night in which I usually have forgotten about the wedding and here it is, 2PM on the Big Day and I am shopping for groceries when I realize.

I want to lose weight and look fabulous in my dress, but I can't stop stress eating.

It's also just starting to sink in that I am moving in two months. Two more months and then goodbye Portland, all my friends and family.

Job hunting. I'm job hunting long distance.

And my last term at PSU starts Monday.

No wonder my left eye won't stop twitching.

Come out come out wherever you are

2006-06-15T14:23:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have one of those butch days? I am having a very butch day. No matter what I do, I can't seem to find my femininininity. I have been walking around all day feeling like the manliest bull-dike in the neighborhood. I wish I had some lipstick...

I haven't blogged in the past few days because I really have nothing to say. Except that my left eyelid is twitching like you wouldn't believe. It's been twitching non-stop for the past few days. I need an eye patch or a sedative or something.

Will someone come over and make me a cocktail? Help me find my blog mojo while you're at it.

How about this? Does this creep you out?

2006-06-15T14:12:00.000-07:00

sam_max
Originally uploaded by decaturnc.

Huh? He's just a baby! A mildly creepy but still adorable baby! You people make me sick.

Baby lust

2006-06-12T16:53:00.000-07:00

Orfeusz
Originally uploaded by syla.

I think this child is named Orfeusz. Hmmm. How do you pronounce that? He is so cute it should be illegal.

Bloggercoaster

2006-06-10T10:56:00.000-07:00

To break this blogger's block, I am just going to write any old drivel that seeps out of my brain and splatters onto my sticky keyboard. Ew.

You see, for the past few weeks I was on a blogging roller coaster and we were all like, "whee!" and "yeehaw" and such and then I think a bolt came loose and everything went flying and the ride was over. Does that make sense?

Moving on, I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said, "Yeehaw is not a foreign policy"

Moving on, no, my knee cap does NOT feel better because yes, I miss Keith and I might explode in the near future.

I am worried about Mollie. She is particularly crotchity today and she winces when she yawns. I noticed this morning that one of her teeth is cracked in half and the bottom half is dangling precariously by a thread and I just don't think I can take it any more.

We had a little visitor come into our lives on Thursday. She was a very cute puppy named Kona, and I wanted to keep her and name her Blur. She would not stop moving.

Mollie was NOT impressed with Blur

Blur's visit made me realize that Mollie is getting old, and I'm getting old, and we are all going to die.

I can't seem to feed myself when I am alone. I sit on the couch while my tummy growls and I can't figure out what to do about it. I want to inject myself with food so that I don't have to worry about cooking. I love to cook for other people, but when I am alone it doesn't seem worth the trouble.

YAY! Happy Weekend!

whine and cheese

2006-06-04T18:46:00.000-07:00

The only bad thing about visiting my handsome serial killer fiance is the fact that the visits always end. This long distance thing is starting to get old. It hurts in fact. I feel a sharp pain in my knee cap. And my forearm. My knee cap misses Keith and it is crying out for his loving touch.

I know, I know, we will be getting married at the end of the summer and then we will be together forever and get totally sick and tired of each other, blah blah blah. But I want to be with him NOW. I don't want to stay here and work and finish school. I HATE it and I WANT to DIE.

Blog Lag

2006-06-03T16:31:00.000-07:00

I'm back from a whirlwhind trip to Los Angeles (The Angels) for my Future Sista In Law, Taylor's gradumacation and lordy, I just don't know where to start.

I was hoping to experience at least one celebrity sighting, and I was blessed with three!

1)Steve the Seagull

2)The Cute Elderly Lady who danced with Vince Vaughn in Wedding Crashers

3)Julia Louis-Dreyfuss (Sorry, no photo)

Steve was very polite, signed an autograph, chatted a bit, and flew off.

The Wedding Crashers Granny is the actual Granny of Taylor's roommate, and I chatted with her a bit at the graduation, but did not ask her about the movie.

Julia Louis-Drefuss almost knocked me down in a Santa Monica shopping center. She was walking very quickly with her son. After she passed us, I freaked. "Ohmy. Ohmygod. J... That was Julia...Julia Louis-Drefuss! Her son! With her son! Shop...Shopping!" By the time I got it all sorted out in my mind, it was dark and everyone had gone home.

The graduation was beautiful, intimate, tender.

Here is Taylor tearing up, listening to Congressman Pasty McWhitey talk about debt reform or campaign finance harm reduction, or vote for me someday and I'll give you a tax break.

And here she is pondering the past, present future, thinking about how it all goes by so fast.

Keith looked devastatingly handsome in his aunt's visor.

He is such a proud and supportive big brother.

When I first got off the plane and Keith was waiting for me, his long hair surprised me a bit. After a while, I realized that he is just growing it out so that he can have options for his wedding hair style. He is torn between a fabulous updo, and a Serial Killer look

or maybe a little Trailer Park Chic

with perhaps some Deranged Psychopath thrown in

and a touch of Innocent School Girl

with a dollop of Crippling Depression on the side

After the graduation ceremony we went to Universal Studios Surreal Fake City Place and walked around for a while. We all got massaged by some chairs, and we bonded.
Me with Keith,

Taylor with her boobs,

and Kathy with some chopsticks.

A History of the Untied States

2006-05-31T18:13:00.000-07:00

I've noticed a disturbing trend developing in which I poke fun at those not originally from this country. I promise I'll stop. Right after this.

You see, I've been saving up savory little tidbits from my class with the adorable Japanese students and now that the class is over, I will serve them up with a delicate lemon cream sauce.

I have spent the past three months in my own personal Engrish heaven.

First, let's talk about the t-shirts. I wish I could have taken photos.

There were shirts that said:

"Knock on a Jumping Door"
"Family Mart"
"Everybody Has Lightening Pace"
"Doesn't Everyone Know That?" on the front and "Recompense" on the back.

I can't decide if my all time favorite is the "Hello Rat Bastard!" shirt, worn by a quiet, nice looking guy who never said a word in class, or the understated, "ALLCAPS" sweatshirt.

Ironically, this class is about Orientalism and Occidentalism, and here I am poking fun. Whatever.

We had numerous painful class discussions in which the instructor would ask a ridiculous question and then stare at us all, unblinking, until someone attempted to answer him.

Example:

Professor: "In Japan, what is the most popular American cuisine?"

The American students do not know the answer to this question, and the Japanese students do not understand the question. We all stare at the floor/ceiling.

Finally one of the Japanese students seated directly in front of me pipes up. "I think, maybe, Crrrr".

Professor: "Excuse me?"

Student: "Crrrrr"

Professor: "I'm sorry, I don't understand"

Student (Making vague hand gesture): "Ah, I wash through Crrrr"

Everyone stares.

The student turns around to my desk and writes "COLANDER" on my notebook.

Me: "He wrote 'colander'. That's more like a kitchen tool, cuisine is a kind of food."

The student in front of me goes back to staring at the floor. The professor moves on.

He often asks questions so obscure that none of us would ever be able to answer. It is irritating and some English speaking students get frustrated and shoot back any old answer just to get the ball rolling again.

Professor: "What is the number one commercial playing on Thai television today?"

We all look at each other incredulously. One student shouts out, "BOXING GLOVES? TOOTHPICKS??"

The professor smiles smugly and says, "No. Face whitener"

Of course. Face whitener. I should have known that.

Things I should have noticed a while ago

2006-05-30T08:51:00.000-07:00

1) The garbage truck that picks up our trash once a week has "We guarantee your satisfaction, or double your garbage back" painted on it's side.

2) A review printed on the back of my Organizational Psychology book says, "A Tour de Force...a rich and fascinating read". It must be a typo. I think that the reviewer meant to say, "A Tour de France...a long and painful journey"

3) My deoderant isn't working. I need to wake up to the reality that Tom's of Maine makes a mean toothpaste, but they just aren't cutting it in the deoderant department.

A Poem

2006-05-27T21:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Keith (Last name that rhymes with Pagan)

I thought you should know
That we have 86 days to go
Before we wed
Naked in bed
We'll be together until we're dead

I shall rejoice
Because of my choice
To marry Keith (Pagan)
And eat crispy bacon

Your kids will be born
Forehead furrowed like your'n
Worrying and tossing the night until morn

Dear Keith (Pagan)
I thought you should know
I'll be your wife come rain or snow

Come hail or sleet
Or blistering heat
I'll make cheese from our goats who bleat and bleat

If I should die before you do
Make sure our kids don't drink any Yoo Hoo

It's unhealthy

Pobia

2006-05-27T21:02:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, a student walked up to me on campus and said he was doing a homework assignment, and would I be willing to answer a couple of questions. People walk up to me all the time at school demanding that I sign a petition, give them a quarter, give them a cigarette, go out with them, accept Jesus as my personal Savior, and on and on.

This guy happened to catch me moments after I had pulled my dripping laptop out of my bag, and I was airing it out on the grass. The screen was frozen, and I was panicked. For some reason, I said yes.

"I am doing a survey on Pobia" the young man said in a heavy Middle-Eastern accent. "Ummm, you mean phobias?" I asked.
"Ahh, yes" he replied.
"Well, you have come to the right girl"
He asked me what my Pobia was, and said, "Do not say the spider. Everyone says the spider or height. Do not say this"
"No problem buddy. My Pobia is cotton balls, velvet, and foamcore. All of those items are rolled into one. It's just one big fear. It's actually not a fear, but more of an extremely strong aversion. You need me to spell it?"
"What is this Cotta Bow?"
"COTTON BALLS. Here, let me write it down for you"
I grabbed his clipboard and began to fill in the little boxes. The first one had me name the phobia. The second box asked me to describe what I felt like when faced with the fear. "It feels like I am having a seizure and my spine is splitting in half" I squeezed into the box. The third box asked me whether or not I wanted to get rid of my phobia. "No" was my answer.

The poor guy was confused, but grateful that I had just completed his little homework assignment for him. He thanked me and walked away.

That was my slightly wine-buzzed and long winded way of introducing this. Arnay, you are my hero(ine). Thank you for sharing your story.

(thanks to Annika for supplying the link)

2006-05-27T14:25:00.000-07:00

Engrish does wine

Slog

2006-05-26T16:03:00.000-07:00

1) It's about time they invented closed captioning for the weak minded. Instead of a caption like, "glasses clinking" or "soft laughter" the caption would read, "This is a dream the character is having, it's not real" or "He doesn't realize his shirt is caught in the car door. It's supposed to be funny". Sometimes when I am watching a movie and I get lost, my first instinct is to turn on the subtitles. There should be an option to turn on the Idiot Titles.

2) The two three-year-olds I take care of like to mimic each other like parrots, only sometimes they don't hear correctly. Today Bryna told me, "I don't like you when you don't behave" and Katie said, "I don't like you when you don't eat on the hay!" She said this with a strange look on her face, and I could tell it didn't sound right to her.

3) I watched Brokeback last night, finally. And I cried.

4) I got my oil changed today and the date printed on my little reminder sticker is 8/24/06. As if I don't have enough things to do that day! I will have to squeeze it in somewhere between getting my wedding hair and makeup done. Maybe I'll just show up at Jiffy Lube in my gown on the way to the ceremony.

Finally I Can Rest Easy

2006-05-24T19:11:00.000-07:00

JesusPets

2006-05-22T12:51:00.000-07:00

Dear God.

A Man in a Cowboy Suit

2006-05-21T16:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Jess and Beth and I went to breakfast and were served undercooked scones. Ever since, I have been craving scone and decided to take a crack at them this afternoon. I logged on to Epicurious, where I am currently spending entirely too much of my young and healthy years, and found a recipe.

I like to read the reviews for a recipe I am about to try, not because I think the people have anything useful to say, but because it is usually entertaining. There is always someone who screwed up somewhere along the line and blames the recipe for the disaster. These people are angry. They are also terrible spellers. They say things like,

"I would rather die than make these wretched scones again. Maybe if you smeared a pound of buter on them they would be O.k. but right now they are the vilest among scones and don't deserve to be on this website"

Then there is the Mom Who Doesn't Get Out Much and is Starved for Human Interaction. Her recipe reviews tend to reveal way to much about her life and not a whole lot about the actual recipe. She says things like this:

"I absolutely LOVED these SCONES!!! I made them for our anniversary dinner and my husband ate three or four of them, even though he forgot to get me flowers! My older son Bernard is going through a phase right now where he says he hates everything, but I think he secretly liked them too :). Sarah was away at a friend's house, so she tried them the next day when they were a little past their prime! I really recommend them!"

Sometimes people actually get into fights in the recipe review sections over politics or perceived ethnic insensitivities. "I spent three whole months in Berlin, and how DARE you say that this Strudel is not authentic!"

After making them myself, my review goes a little like this:

Meh, whatever. They are kinda more bready than sconey. Maybe a pound of buter smeared on them will help.

Fantastic Flickr of the Day

2006-05-20T12:11:00.000-07:00

14510036
Originally uploaded by tjchung.

Props to my Pops for introducing me to Anna

2006-05-17T19:54:00.000-07:00

Today's assignment:

1) Pour yourself a refreshingly cool gin and tonic. Garnish with fresh mint from your garden. Sip.

2) Go to Ikea's website and click on the "Ask Anna" link.

3) Ask Anna some deeply disturbing and inappropriate questions not related to Ikea home furnishings.

4) Let me know how it went.

Anna is a modern Magic 8 Ball, except snarkier.

Everything is Illuminated

2006-05-15T21:09:00.000-07:00

Here we are folx, me and my boo, back together again. It feels so right.

In wedding countdown news, we have 100 days to go before Keith and both lose our shit in front of 200 lucky guests. We often wonder which one of us is going to vomit/faint/hyperventilate in front of our loved ones. I've got my money on me projectile vomiting on the guests as I walk down the aisle, and him losing it and not being able to get it together for the entire ceremony, sobbing into his best man's lapels and trying to squeak out the vows through giant snot bubbles. You gotta be there to see it!

Our six month separation has taken a toll on both of us and Keith has commenced to rip out a finger/toenail for every week we are separated in order to dull the pain in his heart. I guess I don't love him enough to do the same.

She's a fighter

2006-05-13T10:21:00.000-07:00

You know it's that time of the something or other when you begin sobbing, somewhat uncontrollably as a father and his little daughter ride by on a tandem bike outside the window and she says, "Daddy, this is so fun!"

I almost broke down in the Apple store last night as well. Okay, I completely broke down. Yes, I was at the Apple store on a Friday night harassing the employees. As you can see, I am a wreck.

The poor guy who gently pried my fingers from the badge around his neck as I pleadingly asked him to check on my DATA! told me that everything had been recovered. It is all going to be okay. She is coming home on Monday and she will recognize me. She will be tired and she can't be over stimulated, but she is going to be fine.

OH THANK GODDDD!!!!

Yes, I was on my knees when I said this. Yes, I made the Sign of the Cross in the Apple store and wept openly, praising Jesus. Shut UP.

Then Annie and I went out for celebratory cocktails and we had to take a cab home.

The end.

lapdog

2006-05-12T13:28:00.000-07:00

lapdog
Originally uploaded by jessmonster.

attention

2006-05-10T21:11:00.000-07:00

This morning Mollie and I were horrified to find two (TWO!) one-eyed dogs. Both were missing their left eyes, the other eye glassy and sightless. AHHHHHH!

At the park with my two three-year old charges, I was pushing them on the swings. Bryna was straining to look behind her. I asked, "What's going on, Bryna?" to which she replied, "Oh, just hanging out, watching the back of my front"

I LOVE three year olds.

As you were.

Dough Ashes

2006-05-09T17:33:00.000-07:00

Written on Tuesday
Jess went to work, and I am taking the opportunity to use her computer to check up on the world I miss so much. I first went to The Knot to add a reply to our scarily large guest list. The Knot has some sort of useful checklists that I check every once in a while. Apparently at three months before your wedding you should start to take better care of your body. "Huh" I thought as I washed the chips, salsa, guacamole and chocolate pudding down with a Hefeweizen.

On Sunday I started a grease fire in my kitchen.

Let me back up. My little brother wanted to come over to my house and make donuts with me on Sunday afternoon, and I agreed. He ended up searching for aircraft to purchase on Craigslist while I did all of the work.

Donuts are fairly simple to make, but there are two simple things you can't really do without:
1) a metal slotted spoon
2) a thermometer

I have neither of those things, but I thought I could improvise. The oil just needs to be really hot, and I can use a...cheese grater to fish out the donuts. Perfect!

I ended up burning myself and putting my loved ones in danger, starting a grease fire on the stovetop, and weeping over a charred plate of congealed dough ashes. I took a photo, but of course cannot download it from my camera. This is so hard.

My brother was not impressed, although he did find this and spend the rest of the afternoon brainstorming on how to get it up to Portland.

I also had an appointment with the Lady Doctor at the student health clinic. I assumed that the Lady Doctor would indeed be a Lady, but as I was sitting there, twiddling my thumbs and making faces at myself in the lid of the tongue swab jar, in walks this guy. And I have a panic attack.

Needless to say, I had to quit school, get a job, get health insurance and go to a new doctor. I am exhausted.

The Keys to the Kingdom are Locked Inside the Kingdom

2006-05-08T18:22:00.000-07:00

I need those PTS reports
"Give it to me straight Sven, tell me the truth or so help me, I will carve my own eye out with my grapefruit spoon"

Sven relented and told me aboot Option Five. Option Five is a secret. Sven made me swear on the life of my iBook that I would not tell a soul, but my iBook's life hasn't technically started yet. It has not yet been re-incarnated, as it were. I swore, and Sven told me everything.

Option Five allows you to talk to Real Live Person at your Apple Store rather than Betty, the Automated Bitch From Hell With Some Major Hearing Loss. I say, "iBook Representative" and she says, "Okay! I'll get you an iPod* representative!" I say, "Please let the repair be done soon" and she says, "Okay! I'll get you a grapefruit spoon!"

At the end of the day, I am right back where I started. Basically I get no information out of these guys. Sven knows nothing, Betty know, but she is not telling, and the Real Person at the Apple store says that there is no change on my account, meaning that my iBook is currently being used as a booster seat or a foot rest for the Apple technicians. I am working on breathing in and out on a regular basis.

Muse
I don't really have much to say because I have employed myself as Jessmonster's blog muse. Since I carved up the juicy bits for her, I don't have a whole lot left to give. We had a partay on Saturday to commemorate the birthdays of Mollie and Kitri who turn 8 and 24 respectively on the 12th. Mollie got wasted and ended up passed out under the table with her collar off.

Scraping the Bottom of the Blog Barrel
I swear last night I got 8 hours of REM sleep. It was exhausting. I had intense, crazy dreams involving a deceptively tiny yet heavy red wagon that I had to maneuver through heavy highway traffic.

*Blogger spell check wanted to replace Kitri with "Kidder" and iPod with "wiped"

woe is me. woe.

2006-05-06T11:48:00.000-07:00

From now on I will not longer be drinking water. Period. Nothing good comes out of hydration. I'm done with the water. No more liquids at all, actually. I'm done with liquids.

After spending a much longer time than I needed to yesterday, talking with the tech guys at Apple, I began to notice that they all have Canadian accents. I imagined a group of about five blinking, pasty Canucks sitting in a room wearing "bunny hugs" and "tooks" while reaching down periodically to pet their sled dogs. They answer calls from irate United Statesians and continue to be friendly. I know them all by name now. I say, "Hi Otto/Vincent/Olaf/Sven/Doug, how's my baby doing today? Has her data been recovered? When can I see her?? Will she know me?"

I miss my iBook. So. Much. It's kind of sad how lost I feel without it. I don't know what to do with myself these days. I wander around the house, Mollie follows me from room to room. I sit on the red couch and stare. I moan a little. I over-water the garden. I am a shell of my former self.

Tourettes

2006-05-04T18:25:00.000-07:00

OH GODDD!!!! FUUUUCCKKKK!!!!!!!!! SHIIIITTTTTTT!!!!!

Hrm. Excuse me. I've been doing that all afternoon. I got a call from a very nice young man at Apple who told me in a friendly Canadian accent that I am royally fucked. The Apple technicians opened up my computer and found standing water. The motherfucking motherboard is fried along with the hard drive, lcd screen, keyboard and everything else.

I believe that the toggle switch used to open the computer was unharmed, thank God.

I have to pay Apple $709.95 plus shipping and taxes to get my iBook back. My iBook that is less than one year old.

I can't believe this. Tonight's agenda involves lots of alcohol.

Breathe

2006-05-03T18:51:00.000-07:00

Hi all,
I am posting from Jessmonster's computer and it feels strange. I won't be posting as much for a little while as my faithful iBook was submerged in four inches of water in my bag for an indeterminate amount of time on Monday. Needless to say, it had to go in for repairs. I think that everything will be okay, and all of my info won't be lost.

Please Lord.

I hope to get it back soon, although it might be a whole week. Until that time I shall be wandering listlessly around the house and forgetting important appointments.

Seriously, I had no idea how much my every day life is tied up in that thing. Wedding plans, school work, blogging, schedule, my photos, Google... the list goes on and on.

I must now get back to re-creating papers and other boring tasks.

I'm averting my eyes oh Lord!

2006-04-30T18:44:00.000-07:00

If you are not a fan of sap, this post is not for you. Today is the birthday of the greatest man on earth. Keith is 27 years old today. If I could write a sonnet to Keith, I would. But everyone knows that I am not a sonnet kind of girl.

I will just say that when Keith appeared that glorious day in the wine aisle at Trader Joe's, I recognized him from my future.

Not really. The director of Pride and Prejudice (the one with Pouty Knightly) said this in the commentary and it made Jess and me giggle and vomit respectively).

I guess I mean to say that my life today would be less satisfying today if Keith were not in it. It's kind of hard to even imagine how my life would be different had we not met, and I am so glad that we have embarked on this path to my ex-communication together. Keith is the only man that is worth marrying despite the wrath of my mother and the church.

Happy Birthday Mister, we have a lifetime of birthdays ahead of us to celebrate.

Where have you been young lady?

2006-04-30T17:58:00.000-07:00

I've been around, just reeling from the Post-Pascha catch-up. Ketchup?
Reeling so much in fact, that I completely spaced the fact that I had a seminar class this weekend. Look who is about to receive her very first F! I hope I can get out of it, but whatever.

Kitri, Jess and I went shoe shopping today and all of us lucked out on some deeply hip and sexy shoes for the wedding. I want to wear these every day for the rest of my life. These are the kind of shoes that change your life. They make you get up earlier to go running just so your calves pop when you wear them. They are the kind of shoes you wear to an event that a certain ex-boyfriend might attend in order to say, "I'm hot, I have the sexiest shoes in the room, and I married someone else. In. Your. Face."

I also spent the weekend blissed out, mixing everything I could think of with my new best friend. Meet Clementine.

She is the newest addition to my kitchen family, and I am oh so proud of her tangerine glow. Can anyone guess why I named her Clementine? First one to get it right gets a muffin mixed to perfection. Or some mashed potatoes.

And lastly, our friend Steve fell out of a window, as you may have read. He does not have insurance to cover the massive medical bills. Some of his friends designed a t-shirt to raise money for his medical bills. Check it out.

Pascha in pictures

2006-04-24T18:53:00.000-07:00

Some images that sum up my Pascha (Easter) experience. It was bittersweet because I knew that this was my last year here. I won't be here to watch these beautiful people change and grow.

And the best moment of all, my first taste of beautiful, fresh, raw milk. Oh baby. I couldn't think of a more delicious product to consume on 4/20.

Our girls

2006-04-21T13:46:00.000-07:00

eatin-from-my-hand
Originally uploaded by keeef.

Look at them! I'm so proud!

Holy Thursday!

2006-04-20T12:14:00.000-07:00

On this Holy Thursday, a day of reverence and contemplation of the sufferings of our Lord, I have a song stuck in my head. It keeps repeating, no matter how hard I try to push it away

Mmm bop, ba du ba dop
Ba du ba dop, Du be du ba du be dop
Du be dop, ah, doo. Yeah,
Mmm bop, ba du ba dop
Ba du ba dop, Du be du ba du be dop
Du be dop, ah, doo. Yeah,

Ahh, Hanson. Why do you come back to haunt me on this, the Holiest of Thursdays? I haven't thought about them since I finally got rid of their well worn album, Three Car Garage, my Sophomore year in high school.

My love affair with the handsome and supremely talented (Mmm Bop! Genius!) Hanson was brief, but oh so intense. I think I was about 11 years old, and I was mostly in love with Taylor, the dreamy middle brother. I just tolerated Isaac, the unfortunate looking OLD brother with braces, and Zac, the tag-a-long little brother. I thought if I had to be nice to them to get closer to Taylor, I would.

I was certain that we would cross paths at some point, it was only a matter of time. Taylor was homeschooled, as was I. We would meet at some homeschooling conference or other and I would be cool and aloof.
"You're not like other girls" Taylor would say. "You can see past the fame to the real me".
"You're just a regular person, just like me" I would reply, tossing my hair back. Then we would kiss.

A serious Case of Senioritis and CottonBallitis

2006-04-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

I am supposed to be writing a feely goody "journal" for one of my sappy classes, but here I am instead. Why do professors try to soften the language in the syllabus to make it seem like there is no huge load of work or scary exams by calling papers "journals" or "reflections" and exams "quizzes"? We all really know what is going on here. Nothing ever changes. I think I am ready to graduate.

This week is what we crazy Orthodox Christians like to call Holy Week. It is kind of like the Tour du France of religious experiences, except with more fainting spells and less road rash.

We Orthodox love us some fasting and some long prayer services. Mmm yeah! This week is all about spending several evening hours at church, every day til Saturday. Saturday will be spent in church, all of about 4 of the 24 hours. If I were a good Orthodox Christian, (which I am not, just ask my mother) I would not eat until sundown every day this week, and go to all the 4:30 AM services offered. But you all know what happens when this girl hops on her bike without eating first!

Tomorrow night's service is called the Unction service, it's all about healing. I love it, and it is very powerful. There is only one problem. The healing oil is administered to your forehead via a cotton ball. I can't even type the words without sticking my tongue out and convulsing slightly. I have this thing about cotton balls. The things is, I hate them so, so much. I can't even watch someone else touch a cotton ball. I know it seems silly, but it's a serious problem for me. I don't know what to do about it. Hypnotherapy? Shock treatment? Cognitive Behavioral Therapy? Prayer? Perhaps I can ask for healing from my cotton ball induced affliction at the Unction servies tomorrow.

Sigh

2006-04-15T14:53:00.000-07:00

First of all, one does not write a blog, one writes a blog entry. One maintains a blog. Okay everyone? I am sick to DEATH of bloggers saying how they need to write a blog about something that happened to them that day. TO DEATH, I SAY!

Now that that's out of the way, I will talk about Mollie. She had to get four teeth removed yesterday on account a how she never done brushed her teeth in her life. Now she is a hick dog and has taken to chewing tobaccy and saying "ya'll". I believe she has also started up a small meth lab behind our apartment.

She was not herself when I picked her up, incredibly woozy and lethargic. Woozy and lethargic for Mollie means that she jumped a pitiful two feet in the air when she saw me, rather than her typical 4-5 feet. The "technician" that brought her out said he'd never seen a dog wake up so quickly after surgery. I think it's the meth.

Mollie is exhausted today, she still follows me from room to room as if I am going to disappear on her, but as soon as she catches up to me, she nose-dives into the carpet and takes a power nap before dragging herself up to follow me again.

I forgot that I had to house-sit this weekend for the neighbors who have the dopiest, most obnoxious Golden Retriever ever. He is huge, and likes to lick your pants and bring you your slobbery socks. Mollie and I had to sleep over at his house last night and we didn't get much sleep. I was awakened every hour by a new discovery, each more thrilling than the last. 11PM: Yuba ripping up a small rug by the bed. 12:30 AM: Mollie puking all over me and the duvet cover. 1AM: finally getting back to bed after cleaning up the mess to discover Yuba shredding garbage. 6AM: Yuba barking at the carpet. 7AM: Yuba body slamming the front door.

In other news, our friend Steve almost died. He fell out of a third story window. Wish him well if you like, he is now being forced to drink hospital coffee, which in Steve's world might be equivalent to the horrers of falling to your near-death.

Flickr pic, baby fever style

2006-04-14T15:07:00.000-07:00

IMG_0817
Originally uploaded by dritoshala.

Excuse me. I have to go clean up my ovaries which have exploded all over the red couch.

2006-04-11T14:18:00.000-07:00

After spending today at school, I have reached the following conclusions:

1) I have GOT to get me some fake jewels to glue on the surface of my cell phone. I am practically the only person on campus without phone bling

2) If my yoga class had an award ceremony at the end of the term, I would win in the categories of "least flexible" and "most giggly"

3) I am an immature racist pig Neanderthal for wanting so badly to make fun of my Cross Cultural (!) Psych prof for his name (Mo Wang). Mo Wang for me! Mo Wang for you!

BTW, thanks to everyone who voted on the wedding shoes. You all know me SO well. I am excited to announce that I will be clomping down the aisle in pair numero uno.
(If you thought I was serious about any of those shoes, you are officially un-invited to the wedding)

Help!

2006-04-08T17:54:00.000-07:00

I went to try on my wedding dress for the first time this afternoon and I loved it. Unfortunately the shoes I had planned to wear with it won't work with the dress. I now have to find a new pair for the wedding. I need your help, dear readers. I can't decide between these four pairs. Which one is more "me"?

Tolkein and Indigo

2006-04-06T18:55:00.000-07:00

This week I feel as though I am one step behind the rest of the world. I can't seem to fully wake up all day. I am off to soak in some hot springs with my mother. Let's hope we don't kill each other.

I have been enjoying the last season (the agony!) of Six Feet Under on dvd. Highlights so far:
1) Billy Chenowith off his meds exclaiming, "I am tired of living every moment as if I am inside a giant Xeroxed fucking cotton ball!"
2) Claire's song about the panty hose.

Yesterday I ducked in the campus bookstore to escape the sudden rainstorm and I witnessed a typical scene of exhausted mother screaming at her children, except that the children were named Tolkein and Indigo. Twin boys. "Tolkein! Indigo! Get your asses over here now!

hitting the ground wobbling

2006-04-04T00:18:00.000-07:00

Mollie and I arrived safely last night after an exhausting 12 hour road trip. She is such a bad driver, it didn't help my nerves to take shifts.

I haven't even unpacked yet, because I started school again today. Remember how I fainted last week? I guess it was low blood sugar. You would think I had learned my lesson, but I like to push the envelope, always the daredevil. I wanted to see what would happen if I got on my bike and rode the 45 minutes to school after not having eaten in 24 hours. Oh man! That was fun! After locking my bike up and wobbling into school, I had another good idea! I would walk up the four flights of stairs to class. Arriving in class, I noticed students bringing in desks from another room, as the class was crowded. I followed suit and carried my own desk in the room. Great idea! I sat down, shaking and sweating, fumbling for my water. My tunnel vision was so bad that it took my a while to notice that, a) people were staring at me with concern, and b) the class consisted of mostly Japanese students, beeping and clicking away at their identical translator mini computer dealies. In fact, I counted 4 other white people in the room besides me. One was a man, no younger than 80 years old, and another was an Eminem wannabe, wearing a wife beater, giant gold pinky ring, and several gold chains, one of which was straining under the weight of a large gothic letter: perhaps the letter s, I couldn't be sure. He was speaking fluent Japanese with the guy next to him. Turns out, the title of this class (Globalization and Identity) is all about the relationship between Japan and the United States. Maybe it was my low blood sugar talking, but I thought that the title of the class was slightly misleading. Should be interesting, though.

As soon as I got settled I promptly knocked my water off of my desk in such a way that it hit the floor and rolled as far away from me as possible. A kind young man retrieved it for me, and I took it gratefully. I remember thinking, as I drizzled water into my mouth, "Wow, that must be embarrassing for that shaky girl with the helmet". It was like I was watching the scene unfold from high above me. In class number one, my main objective was to remember to blink and get water mostly inside my mouth. Class number two was all about trying not to throw up, and willing myself not to face plant it while obtaining a syllabus from the front of the room. Can I say? Mission accomplished.

Once you bike to school, you have no choice but to bike back. I did that, somehow. Then I even took my dog for a walk. I shall now be confined to a wheelchair, however. Like Clara from Heidi. I will have a little brown blanket draped over my withered legs.

Only interesting to me

2006-03-30T10:40:00.000-08:00

Keith had to go back to work today, so I am womanning the farm by myself. Mollie is helping me by puking periodically. I think she ate something vile when she ran away on Tuesday evening. Yep, she scared the crap out of us by taking off into the woods just before dark. Did I mention the cougars and bears and coyotes we share the property with? Mollie is a city dog and has no idea that it is not safe to go tearing through the woods in the dark. I stood at the edge of the trees and cried out for her through my sobs for about 2 hours. She finally found her way back to us, and Keith carried her in the house and placed her directly in the bath tub. She was covered in mud and ticks and sticks. She had rolled in something that had been dead for a while and her back was covered in slimy grey matter. At least she was safe.

It's strange to be here, knowing that I will be living here soon, but it is not my home yet. I want to just get started settling in and find a job, but it's too soon for any of that yet.

Keith and I went ring shopping yesterday and I found myself a wedding band for $37! I couldn't believe it. The wedding plans are really shaping up, although it is going to be more expensive than we can really afford. Looks like I will have to find a job this summer while finishing up school.

Ramona and Beezus are doing well. They are getting rambunctious and love to jump up on Keith like a dog would.

Man, this post is boring. I forgot how to write.

2006-03-26T17:43:00.000-08:00

Ladies and gents, I am now officially a farm girl. I am never coming back to Portland. Sorry Jess, you'll have to find a new roommate.

Before I came, Keith told me he had two surprise presents for me.

Meet Ramona and Beezus. (Ramona is black, Beezus is brown)

They are yearlings, and will be bred in the fall so that we can have milk next year. Ramona's family is apparently famous for their big titties, so we should be sittin' pretty next year. They are like two golden retrievers in that they are very attached to humans and want to sit on your lap all the time. They are like autistic twins in that they do everything in tandem and are smarter than is really necessary. They scream the haunting scream of a pubescent boy being murdered when you leave the barnyard. Keith is their god, and they worship him fervently. Whenever he walks up to the barnyard, they break into a run and nearly knock him over with exuberance.

In other news, I fainted while on a walk up the hill on Friday. I just keeled over for some reason. My pulse was all erratic and slow. I should probably get myself checked out.

2006-03-24T16:25:00.000-08:00

Oh, right. Did I mention that I am in California for a week and a half? No? Well that's why I'm not posting more frequently. It's been eventful. More to come...

2006-03-20T19:17:00.000-08:00

Names for Your Transgendered Baby.

Bag this

2006-03-20T18:41:00.000-08:00

Oh HI there! No, I'm fine, just been busy, is all. You see, I get into these projects sometimes, and they turn me into a manic freak until I am done with them. For a while it was the earrings, then it was sewing hideous dresses and somewhat better looking handbags. Now I have moved on to sewing handbags out of vinyl. That's right my friends. Watch out Queen Bee* there's a new bag lady in town.

Oh, and finals. Been studying for final exams. And taking them.

And sending out wedding invitations. We had a leetle addressing party last night, which was fun, if a bit confusing. We got it all sorted out, and the invites are happily soaring to their destinations as we speak.

Mollie helped too.

*Your Highness, if you are reading this, I mean no disrespect. I love you, I want to own all of your merchandise.

High maintenance machine.

2006-03-14T12:33:00.000-08:00

At the risk of turning this into a dog blog, I will speak for a moment about Mollie the Dog.
Mollie has never been in a serious romantic relationship. Up until now, I thought it was due to the fact that she is spayed: a huge turn off with the guys. Now I realize it is because she isn't very good at relationships. She is like the psycho girlfriend that you put up with for way too long back before you learned how to listen to your instincts.
If you leave her in the house by herself, you will come home to a veritable smorgaasbord of strewn garbage, defecation, and chewed tampons ground into the carpet.
Last night, I had the gall to take a bath without inviting her in to stand there and stare at me with her sad, sad eyes, while I tried to shave my legs. She exacted her revenge by carefully chewing up pieces of used tissue in Jess's room, leaving a neat little pile of snotty shreds on her carpet.
If she had opposable thumbs, she would call me over and over if I was out with my friends on a Saturday night.
She rests her head my knee whenever I sit down, and follows me from room to room. She gets all huffy and bored if I don't take her out and show her a good time at least once a day. She makes a fuss when I leave her in the car while I run errands. She wants to eat whatever I'm eating. She embarrasses me when company is over, and the girl just can't seem to keep her legs shut.

It doesn't make sense, but I can't get enough of her. We were meant to be together. You just wouldn't understand.

Photo of the week

2006-03-12T21:29:00.000-08:00

Yawn
Originally uploaded by Awesome Joolie.

I miss summer

2006-03-09T18:29:00.000-08:00

IMG_2573
Originally uploaded by soytyka.

Pathetic

2006-03-09T11:13:00.000-08:00

Is it wrong that I want to fake my own death so that I can be home with her more often?

Hmmm...Satan?

2006-03-08T18:58:00.000-08:00

Jess and I had a conversation the other day about Lent and fasting and why we put ourselves through it every year. In this country where everything is microwaveable and drive-through able, the concept of fasting and physical hardships is pretty foreign.

Some people feel that they have to "give up" something for Lent because they are giving back to Jesus for his sacrifice for us. Or they are doing it for God somehow. That's ridiculous. God doesn't need us to do anything for Him. He's good. He doesn't care whether or not we blog or eat chocolate. We sacrifice things during Lent for us. We do it for our own spiritual benefit.

So yeah, I'm fasting, and I love it and I hate it, and my intestines are very angry with me at the moment.

The walls in the women's bathrooms here at school are papered with flyers for "Get a photo taken of your aura" It costs 7 bucks. It must be worth the money. What do you do with a photo of your aura? Stick it on your fridge? Post it to Flickr? Put it on your Christmas card?

My counseling class is using possibly the worst textbook I have ever had to suffer through. The author has also published some awful poetry, and he begins each chapter with a selection from one of his several poetry books. He writes his poetry about his experiences as a counselor. He uses phrases like, "My role as a healing man" and "making breezes as I bobbingly pass" and "a child with a large cowlick"

Keith needs help

2006-03-07T08:41:00.000-08:00

chicks3
Originally uploaded by keeef.

He has purchased 61 chicks. I think that's a little excessive. But they are cute. And they do have 85 acres to run around on.

You know he's the one when he saves your dog

2006-03-03T18:14:00.000-08:00

Four things:

1) I got a call from the Gestapo today telling me that Mollie is not allowed to stay. I was flustered and tried to question his logic in allowing our neighbor to fuck up his apartment with his chain-smoking and general grossness, but not allow my very well behaved and clean dog to live in our clean and well-taken care of apartment. He wouldn't back down.

I called Keith at work, crying (I am not a cryer, usually, I don't know what came over me) and told him all about it. He was so sweet and kind and listened, even though I could tell he was busy and shouldn't be talking on the phone. He asked me in a very take charge/provider/protector tone to give me the landlord's number. I swear his voice got deeper. I gave it to him, and he said he would call me right back.

I have the most fantastic husband-to-be in the world. He somehow got the landlord to agree to come over and meet Mollie and reconsider.

The landlord just left, having been charmed by her adorableness, and she gets to stay! Kefir all around!

2) I watched Mad Hot Ballroom last night. It possesses cuteness in lethal doses. Rent it. You might die.

3) There was a woman walking down the street today who stopped in front of one of the houses and proceeded to rip out a branch from the bushes, do a little jig whilst hitting herself in the legs with said branch, drop it, and repeat the whole process. This literally happened over and over until the yard was covered with branches.

4) I took the girls I babysit to the park today. As we passed a tree stump, one of them asked why the tree had been cut down. I said I didn't know. She replied, "George Bush cuts down a lot of trees. Yeah, he's not very smart"

Tee hee

2006-03-03T13:51:00.000-08:00

onegoodmove: Not Concerned Redux

The Bloodbath continues

2006-03-02T11:35:00.000-08:00

Need any blood for your ritual sacrifices? Are you a vampire searching for a constant source of sustenance? Gimme a call. The dog, she has an issue of blood only Jesus can heal.

Speaking of All Things Holy, I interviewed a potential wedding officiant yesterday. We met at Stumptown Coffee. We each sat at our own table for about 20 minutes, searching the eyes of everyone who walked in the door until we realized we were sitting five feet from one another. He is one of those people who advertises on wedding websites, "Custom weddings! Jewish, Civil, Christian, Whatever! Gimme a Call!" I don't know why I was thinking this guy would have any kind of integrity/concrete beliefs. I asked him if he had a congregation or anything and he replied that yes, he has a congregation of ten people who meet at his house once per month. When asked what it was exactly they believed or practiced, he looked at me kind of strangely and said, "Well, we are mostly reality based, with loose, quasi-Christian undertones, and we just like to check in and...you know...be present with one another." Right. Don't call us, we'll call you.

Edited to add:
I forgot about some more interestingness that happened yesterday morning. On my way to Stumptown, I noticed a barista guy running down the street yelling, "Wait! You've got our duuuck!!" Hmm. I went on my way. About ten minutes later, I was waiting for Reverend Reality when in comes the barista, sweaty and panting, triumphantly holding a decoy hunting duck attached to a key. Apparently a woman had used the bathroom with the key (attached to the duck) and walked out the door with it. She made it several blocks away, not noticing the barista screaming at her, and more importantly, not noticing the LIFE SIZED DUCK in her hand. Some people really aren't awake until they get their coffee.

So maybe this is what the Gestapo was hesitant about

2006-02-28T19:37:00.000-08:00

I was writing, writing, writing a paper this evening, bored and worn out, when Ben called and we decided to go for a walk and get coffee.

We took Mollie, of course, and she was running hither and yon like she is wont to do. We went to the Ugly Mug (a dog friendly joint) and sat down at a table. People kept petting Mollie, as she lay there on the floor. One guy stooped down to pet her and then pointing to the floor, asked, "Um, is that blood?" I missheard him and thought he asked if she had peed on the floor. I said, "No, she doesn't do that, it's just water, she's wet from the rain" He looked at me funny and said, "That's blood" It was. Blood pooling on the floor next to Mollie. The floor is reddish, so you had to look closely, but the pool was widening. Mollie looked unconcerned as I examined her, but she had blood spots on all of her legs and feet. She must have stepped in some glass or something on the walk.

So Ben and I walked her home, and I decided to carry her in the house and deposit her directly into the bathtub so that she wouldn't track the blood all over the floor. After I got her cleaned up, I found that her back right foot was cut badly. So Mollie sat there in the bathtub, bleeding, while I thought of what I could use as a make-shift bandage. I got a rag and some masking tape and bandaged her up. She bled right through it. There are bloody dog prints all over the floor. Shit. Then I realized that I had given blood today and still had the bandage on my arm. I took it off and bandaged up her foot. Minus the bloody gauze from my arm, of course.

Now I have some cleanup to do. I hope the landlord doesn't come to pay a visit tonight. It looks like someone was murdered in here.

Titbits

2006-02-27T21:58:00.000-08:00

You know when you want to fake your own death just so that you don't have to talk to someone again? No? Oh.

I saw a big truck outside the window of the bus this morning sporting letters on it's rear window stating, "Bush Bashers r Nbreeds" Cute.

I joined a weight loss forum. It's moderated by Sweetney, so that means it won't be dumb. I want to get fit for the wedding, yo. I don't wanna be jigglin' down the aisle, if you know what I mean.

I feel like it's the Holocaust and Mollie is a Jew I am harboring in my room. She has to hide in her kennel and she can't bark or play the piano or our crazy neighbor will hear her and call the Gestapo Landlord. I called the Gestapo Landlord yesterday to plead for Mollie's life and he was all tight assed about it and said he was not really into the idea, but would let me know at the end of the week. She is currently lying on my bed with her head on my feet, yipping softly in her sleep.

Roomies!

2006-02-26T20:09:00.000-08:00

Meet Mollie.

She is our new roommate. Mollie came to live with us on Friday after being evicted from her old place- she didn't want to go into it- something about 15 dollars worth of steak and a lot of screaming. She called me up and asked me if she could crash with us, and I said yes. I am hoping our landlord says yes too.

Mollie's hobbies include:
Staring
Adoring
Licking the dirty plates in the open dishwasher
Throwing up on things
Going for many walks

Mollie and I met 7 years ago when she was just six weeks old. I brought her home and she slept in my bed that night in the crook of my knees. She and I have been inseparable ever since. When I moved to Mexico, she would mope around the house and routinely throw up on the bed in my empty room to express her grief. I wanted to take her back when I moved back to the United States, but our apartment is so small, and Jess is not really an animal person, I just didn't think it was the best for her.

Now that she has nowhere else to go, we are going to try it out, assuming our landlord approves. Keith and I were planning on bringing her with us to California when we move in August, so this is just a little sooner than we had anticipated. I'm having fun. I really missed her.

Something else to be obsessed about

2006-02-21T10:41:00.000-08:00

Do not, I repeat, do not use Almond Oil as your moisturizer of choice and then immediately begin styling your hair with your oily hands. The results will make you look as if you are perfecting the Hobo Derelict MK+Ash Olsen look, and you will have nowhere to turn. Needless to say, this is a Hat Day.

In preparation for my destiny as a Farmer's Wife, I have been experimenting with making Kefir and Yoghurt (yog-hurt) from raw milk. I received Nourishing Traditions* for my birthday and am going a little nuts with the lacto-fermentation of my dairy. We soaked our oatmeal last night. I will be soaking all of my food from now on, I don't care what it is. Cold cereal, pop-tarts, donuts, you name it.

I am sitting in my "Nutrition for Health" class as I type this, ironically. All this low calorie and low fat talk is making me sick. I want to stand up and scream that truth can be found in Whole Foods! (Not the store, but actual whole foods. Although Whole Foods, the store is really nice) But I won't. Not today, anyway, they won't take me seriously with the greasy hair under the winter hat.

Lately I have been reading these wedding planning type books that are full of nonsense mostly (put kazoos on the tables for the kids! Or! Hire a clown!), with a nugget or two of helpful advice thrown in here and there. Every time I get to the section entitled "24 Hours to Go" or "Today is the Big Day" I get all choked up. I started weeping yesterday when reading advice about wearing a button down blouse when getting hair and makeup done so that you don't mess up your 'do when changing clothes.

It is weird to think that this time next year, I will be someone's wife. Not just any old someone, but the best someone of all.

*Yes, I have leaped onto the bandwagon. It has been an invigorating and healthy, if a bit lumpy ride so far. I like to call it Flourishing Nutritions, or Encouraging Fruition, rather than Nourishing Traditions for some reason.

It's all down hill from here

2006-02-18T10:34:00.000-08:00

You know you've had a good birthday when you wake up, fully clothed in your bed with the heat blasting and your lips glued shut. You may or may not have chipped a tooth.

I have my hooded sweatshirt on, hood up, trying to suppress the foul hangover burps that threaten to hurl me into the unpleasant category of One Who Feels it the Next Day. Ladies and Gentlemen, I do believe I am experiencing my first Hangover. I never used to get them, I would bounce up the next morning, all chipper and ready for a run. That legacy has ended my friends. I have arrived. I am 23 and feel like shit.

There are 140 photos on my camera this morning from last night's debauchery. About 112 of them are all black, or just fuzzy blobs. Let's see if we can find any worth posting.

Most of the craziness started after the crowd left. The dance party pretty much just consisted of Annie, Jess and me.

Before I had the any kind of fever

2006-02-17T14:24:00.000-08:00

I was at Old Navy today (the horror!) and I heard a sappy pop song come on, about how we're all pretty on the inside, and if I feel like I look good than I probably do, so I should work it, and if I'm ugly, you're ugly too. As the lyrics progressed, I became increasingly horrified and confused. It raised a few questions for me.
1) Is this really a song? Do they play this on the radio?
2) If I'm ugly, you're ugly too?
3) Is this supposed to make me, the listener feel better about myself? What affect the lyricist hoping to have?
4) What am I doing at Old Navy?

I got a phone call this morning, out of the blue, and was offered an assistant director position at a non-profit agency I used to volunteer for. I had to turn it down because of the whole, moving to another state thing.

I also got a phone call from my wonderful fiance, singing me a new and improved version of the happy birthday song. Yes, 23 years ago today, I came writhing out of my mother's womb, all yellow and cranky.

Here I am, trying to cast a spell on one of my first days in this world.

I was a very fashionable child.

Stuck in the Ugly Mug: JJ Abrams, eat your heart out*

2006-02-16T11:08:00.000-08:00

Keith came for two! whole! days! and we squeezed every ounce of good times and happiness out of it. We went out to dinner for V-Day and ate the best meal either of us has ever had in our lives. We drank lots of wine and giggled and made googly eyes and sappy toasts to one another. It was disgusting. I apologize to all those at the Tuscany Grill that had to fix their gaze on their Tiramisu for fear of watching our schmoopiness.

This morning I was slightly late for class, but decided to stop and get some delicious coffee from the Ugly Mug. As soon as I got my fix, I went to open the door and it was stuck. "How embarrassing" I thought "I am an idiot and can't figure out how to open a door" a kind, if slightly condescending man offered to help, and he couldn't get it open either. Soon everyone in the coffee shop tried their hand at getting it open. "Get a knife! Let ME do it! No! This way!" they shouted to one another, as they pushed each other around, jabbing frantically at the handle with butter knives and credit cards. A crowd gathered outside, attempting to get it open from the outside. We used elaborate gestures to "communicate" back and forth between the Outside Crew and the Inside Crew.

I finally called Jess and asked her to bring over a screw driver. She did, and as she walked toward the door, the guy closest to the door who was stabbing uselessly with his American Express card asked "how is that gonna help? We can't get it inside" I rolled my eyes as the man on the outside finally freed us. A True American Hero.

Needless to say, I didn't even try to use the incident as an excuse to my professor.

As I was standing inside the coffee shop, I couldn't help but think about the possibility that we would never be able to leave the Ugly Mug again. I thought it would be a good premise for a show. We would survive on coffee and stale pastries, checking our email using the wifi connection. It would be like Lost, without all the unidentified Monsters and boars and whatnot. Come to think of it, maybe there would be an inidentified monster. Maybe it would be an Ugly Mug that rips your face off when you try to sip your latte. Scary.

*Eat you HEART out? That is not a very nice thing to say to someone. It's also disgusting.

A momentous occasion

2006-02-12T17:10:00.000-08:00

Ladies and gentleman, I am proud to announce that RedCouchFever received it's 10,000th visitor this weekend. Someone from Hyattsville, Maryland had no idea when he or she clicked 'next blog' that he or she would be making history. Another reason to open a bottle of wine!

More cowbell

2006-02-12T16:50:00.000-08:00

I am here to say that I have been officially cured of the Baby Fever. I just got finished watching three young children for the weekend, and well, I have an appointment to get my tubes tied early tomorrow morning.

The kids weren't really all that bad, actually, but it is just so much work! And they NEED things all the time. And they get up at 6 AM. And they have to be FED regularly. And they won't stop talking! The worst part: you are stuck with them for life! Life! That's too long.

Jess, Ben, Kitri, and I went to a swanky bar with lots of plastic people wearing glittery belts and too much perfume on Friday night. Speaking of fake boobs and perplexing accessories, on the way we were discussing a couple of Abercrombie and Fitch billboards that are featured prominantly near Chinatown. Abercrombie and Fitch sells clothing, right? Then why does the man on this ad seem to be wearing nothing but a sandy football?

The other, more disturbing billboard features a young man, lying down in a pair of ripped underwear. I couldn't find that one on their website, but the image is forever seared in my brain. He's not concerned about the fact that he's in his underwear, nor that they are in shreds. I don't even want to know how they got that way.

We're not all tree hugging granola freaks

2006-02-10T18:58:00.000-08:00

I heart Craigslist

It's Gotten Out of Hand

2006-02-10T18:38:00.000-08:00

Interpretive bear dance
Originally uploaded by soytyka.

This is the face of Winter Boredom. It's no joke. We have to end it now.

Look Out Portland!

2006-02-10T17:42:00.000-08:00

Yeah, baby, it's Friday. The end of a horrendously long week. I think this calls for a celebration. I think it's time to bust out the Trader Joe's Greek Style Plain YOGURT! You heard me. I may even sweeten it up with a little organic MAPLE SYRUP, Bitches! I may dislike the Greeks, but they make a mighty creamy yogurt.

I need to get out more.

I am in a serious fashion rut these days. I pretty much climb out of bed, shower, and put on the same dumbass outfit I had on the day before.

This afternoon, I decided I needed a change. I can't cut my hair because I am growing it out for the wedding, and I can't buy new clothes because I am po' ass broke. So I decided to curl my hair and put on whorish amounts of makeup (one girl's whorish is another girl's nunnish, mind you)

And, tada! After putting on the same dumbass outfit again, but! adding the dusty scarf I was using to decorate the wall above my bed, I am transformed! into Slightly Pathetic All Dressed Up With Nowhere To Go Girl.

I'm going to go make some phone calls.

Now I have the burden of titles

2006-02-09T10:35:00.000-08:00

I was late for my nutrition class because I wanted to make sure I ate a good breakfast.

So, I'm back. You can read about my little vacation here. I'd like to think of myself as the Dave Chappelle of blogging. I went nuts, disappeared, wandered around with the giraffes in Africa for a while, and now I'm back. Thanks for humoring me.

I had a feeling this might happen

2006-02-04T23:25:00.000-08:00

It has come to my attention that a Certain Someone reads my blog. I found this out tonight and have decided to stop writing on this site. I will be moving to a new one, feel free to email me at soytyka@gmail.com for the url. I hope that most of you follow me over there. Everyone please update your links besides Jenna, Annie, Reina, Bronwen, and Jess.
Thanks

Blab

2006-02-01T21:58:00.000-08:00

A word to the wise*
Don't eat a giant bowl of lentils and go to your 4 hour class in the cramped classroom with the tiny desks crowded together. There are only so many times you can lean to your neighbor and say, "Oop, my stomache is growling. Sounds like I'm hungry!"

I think I was hit on by a lesbian on the bus today. She gave me her number and asked me to call her. I made some noises with my mouth and jumped off the bus.

I was undoubtedly hit on by two guys sitting on a porch as I walked by. It went like this:
"Nice earrings!"
"Thanks! I made them"
"I made an earring"
"Oh"
"It's between my legs"
I had no idea how to respond to that, so I just kept walking. If you are going to get creative and make up your own pick up lines, you should try to think up ones that make sense.

*What does that really mean, anyway? Wise people don't need advice. It should really be, "word to the not very smart"

On my mind

2006-01-31T10:19:00.000-08:00

I don't think I am interested in procreating. After reading Sarcastic Journalist's account of her entire pregnancy and now, new motherhood, I just can't.

I cannot wait to get out of this school. I am so sick of the classes with the boring instructors that just like to hear the sound of their own voice. They blab on and on about their kids and their college days while every single student (myself included) zones out in front of their laptops chatting, playing solitaire, blogging, watching MOVIES(!) and generallay not listening.

Seriously, though. Movies?? Why watch movies in class? I am blogging in class at this moment, but I can hear what the instructor is saying. I switch back and forth between my notes and my blog, and I absorb what I need to. The movie people have headphones on, and are in a completely different world. Why come to class at all?

Well dressed men in suits

2006-01-30T14:10:00.000-08:00

Keith refuses to update his blog, so I am forced to narrate his life as well. He has a new job at a cool place in Anderson Valley (or is it Alexander Valley? I can never remember), and he is learning a lot more about wine. That is all great, except for the fact that he is far away, and I rely on him to crack my back and no one can do it like he does it and don't suggest Jess because she doesn't have what it takes.

He is all alone down there, and at least I have my friends to help me dance away my sorrows, so I should stop complaining, but that is what I do best.

The other day, one of Keith's coworkers called in sick. He said he couldn't come into work that day because several "well dressed men in suits" had "built a tree fort" on his property and were "watching" him with "night vision goggles". This alarmed the supervisor, who sent someone over to check on him. Apparently he had a high fever, and decided to mix himself a cocktail of medicines that caused him to hallucinate.

Last night Jess and I had an impromptu dance party with Ben and Kitri. By the end of the night, Ben was wearing one of my tank tops and a pair of running shorts, and I was sloshed, talking extensively about Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. I even inexplicably bit a print of one of Rivera's paintings.

The Cool Neighbors moved out, having had enough of the Psychopathic Neighbor. They moved out yesterday, and some Fresh Meat came and looked at the place today. They were so taken with the place that they ended up signing the lease there and then. Little do they know what lurks in the apartment below them.

Also, there seems to be a rooster that has taken up residence on our street. You can hear him, but you can't see him. I have no idea where the crowing is coming from. Patrick, Mira, it looks like you guys got out just in time.

This was worth coming back for

2006-01-28T09:32:00.000-08:00

Okay, I miss my blog. I miss you guys. I can't stay away. Now that my readership has been completely depleted, I'm back!

I had a dream last night that was sort of weird as my dreams go. I awoke at 2AM, wanting badly to write it down. I was so out of it that I couldn't figure out how. I crawled out of bed onto the floor and then crawled around the bed and got back in on the other side. Surprisingly enough, this did not accomplish my goal of writing down my dream. I kept thinking, "I MUST remember this dream at all costs" I kept repeating the events in my dream over and over in my head so that I would remember when I eventually found paper to write on.

I would have found paper if I had:
1) turned the light on
2) gone to my desk

But I did neither of those things. I crawled back out of bed and crushed my backpack with my body. Then, while still on top of the backpack, I proceeded to unzip every pocket, looking for, um, what was it again? Whatever it was, I didn't find it. I stood up, tripped over the backpack, got back in bed and promptly fell asleep.

Oh, the dream? I can't remember. Something about eating velcro.

On living in the real world

2006-01-17T10:25:00.000-08:00

So both of you who still take the time to stop by here must wonder why I no longer blog like I used to.

Well. I did start school again and thought it would be a good idea to take 21 credits this term. I am in class right now, actually.

I am also enjoying living in the non internet world. I was spending entirely too much time checking blogs and surfing the net. It got to be too much, and I am still enjoying my break.

That does not mean I want to completely abandon this here blog just yet. I will be posting when I have something to say. Lately my mind just draws a blank and nothing seems fit to publish. Like right now. I can't think of how to finish this post. The end.

Kate Crosses Country

2006-01-13T16:33:00.000-08:00

Kate Crosses Country
Originally uploaded by DogMilque.

Notice the bare concrete road under my back.

Um.

2006-01-13T16:28:00.000-08:00

I just don't know what to say...
Originally uploaded by DogMilque.

This pretty much sums up my Tahoe experience.

Oh HI there!

2006-01-09T11:04:00.000-08:00

You know when you go on vacation and you tell everyone that you are going to go on vacation and then you actually go and then they call you and wonder where the hell you are and why you aren't answering your home phone number from a cabin in Tahoe and decide to leave a couple more messages on your home phone before proceeding to call all of your close relatives? That happened to a friend once.

Tahoe! It was all the fun a girl could want rolled up in a buttermilk pancake.

There was a little of this

And a whole lot of this

There were 4 couples stuffed into a fairly small house, but somehow we made it work. There was a lot of drinking and dancing and eating and drinking.

It was nice to see Keith after a month of not seeing one another, but it was hard to say goodbye again. It would be unbearable if we didn't have the rest of our lives to look forward to. I am so excited about what the future holds for the two of us. If I had to come up with an image in my mind of what I imagine our lives together to be, it looks something like this

Favorite Bush Quote of 2005

2005-12-30T23:48:00.000-08:00

"See, in my line of work you got to keep repeating things over and over and over again for the truth to sink in, to kind of catapult the propaganda."
—Greece, N.Y., May 24, 2005

Now he's drinking on the job

2005-12-28T09:26:00.000-08:00

At least it's not cocaine.

She's Crazy!

2005-12-27T13:12:00.000-08:00

This Christmas wasn't all that magical. I kept forgetting that it was coming. I usually get all excited about the gifts I am giving people, and love going to church and seeing everyone. This year I did not really feel much. I guess this is what it feels like to be a grown up. Numb and empty inside. Haha! Just kidding! I don't feel numb and empty inside! I did keep forgetting about Christmas, though. I think that's just because I am mildly retarded.

I did enjoy trying out my little brothers' new zipline, though. No one could get a very good photo, because I was going super fast. I pretended I was Jack Bauer, making a surprise entrance into a terrorist cell. Oh it's sad, really. my unwavering love of 24.

I received some kick-ass green striped tights from my sister. I put them on straightaway and haven't taken them off since. I am going to try to keep them on 'til the New Year.

I am visiting my dad now, and drinking his lethally strong coffee. We spent about 8 hours at Ikea yesterday, wandering around and mechanically dropping household items with unknown uses and names like "Borgh" and "Fartyg" and "Sprecken" into our cart. And my! But the babies love to scream at Ikea! Everywhere I looked there was a baby with legs flailing and back arched, spitting snot at his or her haggard parent.

Okay, breakfast is served. And its only 1:30!

They should give me my own show

2005-12-21T18:25:00.000-08:00

Our kitchen and living room windows face the street in front of our house. People often walk by and wave at us as we sit, zoned out on the couch, the blue glow of the television gently caressing our faces. We usually don't wave back because if we did, we would miss yet another kidnapping or torture scene on 24.

These past few weeks, as I have converted our house into Crafty Christmas Central, I wonder what people think as they drive or walk by.

Look honey, she is sewing! How perfectly domestic. Is that a burka?

No, I think its a dress, or a shift or something. It's kind of festive.

Oh. Is she crying?

Yeah, it looks like the machine has jammed or something.

Oh my, she should unplug the machine before using that butter knife.

My lovely Christmas holiday dress idea turned into days and days of hard labor, and liberal usage of my new favorite motherfucking word. I really hope frumpy chique is in this year. I might be able to make a nice poodle skirt out of it.

Let's see, why don't we tally up the projects have I thoroughly fucked all up?

-Pajamas for my brothers
-Handbag for unnamed person who reads this blog (hope you like it!)
-Holiday dress for myself

I did manage to complete one, count it, one present without flying into a rage and consoling myself under the kitchen table with a bottle of Cuervo. A lovely tote bag for Jess, featured on my Flickr banner.

Now I am going to put the sewing machine in the trunk of my car and drive it back to my mother's house where it belongs. It's back to knitting for this girl.

I have no words...

2005-12-14T20:51:00.000-08:00

Wedding Cindy 1974 - Jane, Gerry & Eric
Originally uploaded by Grogan Family.

Just a little nothing

2005-12-12T13:15:00.000-08:00

Hi. Here I am. Blogging.

1) I have found this new artist that I love and I want to cover my walls exclusively with her and Nikki McClure's art. Nikki McClure's stuff is very reasonably priced, but Deborah DeWit Marchant doesnt have much that is reasonable for us non-millionnaire types.

2) Keith left yesterday and I am working on not throwing myself into the Willamette river. The only thing stopping me is the freezing cold air out there, the raw sewage floating in the river, and the fact that we will see each other again in about two weeks when we go to Tahoe together. It is seriously hard to be so far away from him. The only consolation we have is that we will be spending the rest of our lives together after August. So I guess it's not really all that bad. Except it is.

3) We finally have a wedding website. It is pretty basic, don't get too excited, but you can vote on what you want to eat at the reception. We will consider the results very seriously and then go ahead and pick whatever we feel like.

4) Keith, Ben, Kitri and I took my little brother Elijah to the mountain on Saturday (see Flickr photos). It was fun, and sad because we knew it was the last time we would ever play in the snow together (until Tahoe in two weeks) and I am going to go cry some more.

chicken hair

2005-12-07T13:17:00.000-08:00

It is 1:30 in the afternoon and I am currently seated in my bed, sporting a hairstyle rivaling this guy's.

This can only mean on thing. That finals are over.

Yesterday was a day that went down in profanity history. I don't think the word 'motherfucker' has surfaced that many times in my daily vocabulary, well, ever.

It was a shitty motherfucking day. That's all you really need to know.

It is a strange feeling to go from never being fully caught up to having absolutely nothing to do. I don't know how to do this, what do you call? Resting?

The timing for Keith's departure couldn't be worse, either. Now that I actually have time to spend with him, he is moving to a different state. He is leaving sometime this weekend. He refuses to commit to an actual departure day. It could be Friday, or it could be Sunday.

Um, guys? Do you want to know a secret? I'm kind of tired of blogging. There. I said it.

My newest internet crush

2005-12-03T22:45:00.000-08:00

I guess I'm a little late in the game

2005-12-03T09:55:00.000-08:00

Ben: "Have you read Prodigal Summer?"

Jess: "I've read everything"

2005-12-01T19:58:00.000-08:00

Oh guys. Keith is moving away in a week. That's sad. The end.

Flickr of the day

2005-12-01T15:44:00.000-08:00

IMG_0053
Originally uploaded by suztacular.

Poor guy...

There has to be a point?

2005-11-28T18:01:00.000-08:00

I would like very much to find and consume a delicious chocolate milkshake.

Unfortunately, I am in my boring-assed class. And it will make my body fat. And I am supposed to be refraining from dairy products at this time.

Here for you is a small list of the things I like:

Warm dairy products.
Chocolate milkshakes
Dogs
Wedding dresses that are not too poofy
Tiny little brown babies
Other babies too
The television Programme named "24"

Yesss

2005-11-25T11:57:00.000-08:00

Lee & Rich
Originally uploaded by ramtower.

I want it

2005-11-25T11:55:00.000-08:00

Ceremony
Originally uploaded by ramtower.

Flickr of the day

2005-11-25T09:26:00.000-08:00

CRW_8742
Originally uploaded by reddragon303.

Okay bridesmaids: there's your example