Loose Cats

Justin has been working his ass off as of late. Of course I suppose there is really nothing new in that statement. We have been carpooling frequently since I've cross-trained into an additional area in my humble job. That area just happens to have an office a couple miles away from Justin's work. This is highly convenient owing to the fact that since we bought our house we're located about 30+/- miles from town. 

The carpooling allows for us to have an extra hour on the way to work together and an hour or two on the way home since we typically hit 5:00 pm traffic. There are days when we get into fights over nonsense things like if there are more motorcycles than cruiser police cars, if it's too hot or cold in the car, why baseball sucks so much etc. Which honestly baseball sucking is not a nonsense topic I really do think the sports world needs to address the situation. Like maybe not take 759 commercial breaks between pitches... 

Anyway sometimes Justin and my shifts differ slightly so one of us is left to wait for the other one to get off work. More often than not it is me who does the waiting which is fine by me. The other day however Justin got to wait for me. Once my work meeting was over I drove to his work. Everyone else had left for the day. I walked into his work which is this warehouse like on "The Office," except with less paper and more pipes. The familiar sound of a basketball being dribbled against the floor echoed from somewhere around the corner. I heard a swoosh and saw my lovely man in my least favorite cut off tank top which he still owns for some god forsaken reason. 

It was like a total "Footloose," scene. Not the Kevin Bacon "Footloose," but the Julienne Hough one where that guy who is not Kevin Bacon does a man dance in this warehouse. And he is all angry and virile while doing pirouettes and leaping across the room. Justin was just like that except all bad ass with his mad basketball skills yet gentle and graceful at the same time. I was like yup. That's my man. Minus the shirt that's him right there guys. By guys I mean the warehouse cats that I can never find because they are feral allegedly but really I just think Justin might be fibbing so he can try to occupy my mind by cat hunting while he is finishing up work. 

Speaking of cats I was waiting for Justin today and took this video of a cat watching petals swirl around in the wind. It was adorable. Silly me I can't remember how to do the video thing. So enjoy these far less satisfying screen shots of the video I took. 

And lastly the search results I received when trying to look up the non-Kevin Bacon "Footloose." Get out of my head google!

When Opooportunity Knocks

You may recall that in the past I found a certain joy in yoga. It started with hot yoga, transitioned to include videos at home, an Iyengar class I took at Boise State, making up my own sequences at home, taking a teacher in training course, and eventually I started teaching Restorative Yoga. It has been lovely.  I try to do yoga every day even if it is just one or two poses.

There exists this wonderful video of a woman doing a quiet sequence on a lovely sunny morning in her perfectly clean apartment while her partner is snoozing peacefully in their crispy white down comforter. She essentially goes through this sequence of advanced poses and looks like a total rock star. Of course I was inspired by this even though I knew that I am not at the same yoga level as she is.

I awoke extra early one morning while Justin snored away in our slightly yellowing down alternative 10+ year old blanket. I got on the floor and began my sequence. It was still relatively dark outside and I could barely see but I had to take the opportunity because in life you just never can tell if an opportunity will present itself again. Not to be all dramatic or anything.

Mid-way in I wound up face down on the floor in a resting pose. My head was turned to one side and I knew my cheek was touching something but I ignored the slightly strange smell and proceeded on with my yoga for another fifteen or so minutes. I looked down once the sun had allowed enough light to creep in and discovered one of Justin's petrified dirty work socks on the floor precisely where my face had been. I chuckled silently and pushed into down dog to finish out my practice. Just then a startlingly loud noise erupted from the bed. Justin had ripped ass.

I may not be as graceful or advanced as the woman in the aforementioned video but one of the first things they teach you in yoga is not to compare yourself to other people. But I'd be willing to bet $ that my boyfriend can fart hers out of the room...

Here is me I swear I did a real handstand but this is me falling back down. 

Letter I Wrote to My Boss

Lori,

This thing happened today and it was horrifying. Have I ever told you how terrified I am of spiders? One time a hobo was hiding on my towel during a shower and when I went to dry off it was wiped on my inner thigh right next to my no-no zone. By the way I do mean a hobo spider not a literal homeless person which would have been less scary actually.

Anyway today I was being a good employee and getting my schedule all prepared. I marked it up, read through it a couple times, got familiar with it, and held it in my lap. I even checked in the first patient and life was going well.

Patient number two ambled in and I held the clipboard about two inches from my eyes as I asked her to spell her name. Then a ferocious beast lept out from behind the clip part of the clipboard. Naturally i screamed and threw the clipboard on the desk and started running but I ran into the wall which is like two feet from where I was sitting. It kind of knocked me back into reality and I looked at the patient who had backed away in fear. Turns out she also has a phobia. I apologized, and she was completely understanding and asked if there was a man to help us. She started calling, "Man?!? MAN?!?" towards the back hall but no one came.

Meanwhile the spider was tapping his legs together at the time I assumed this was to prepare to jump off the clipboard and onto my face. But hindsight tells me he was probably just looking for the cafeteria. Lacy said that was probably the case and she has a farm so she totally understands animals and beasts.

I knocked the clipboard on the ground and saved us all by murdering the beast. Unfortunately his guts will remain on this scehdule because there is no way to wash them off. I've taped over the top of them to avoid contaminanting anything.
Remember that one time when we had our one on one yearly review and we talked about how my safety skills could gain me higher merit points? Well I think we can both agree I saved lives today. True one of those lives was my own, but still I mean what would you do with out me?

(I should clarify this photo was taken before the spider was removed from the schedule)

Goat Boobs

I have this new friend who is amazing. To be honest over the past few months I've accumulated a couple of new friends. Along with my closest "old," friends (which I mean that in the nicest way possible) have made life much more enjoyable. Who would have thought there was such a thing as a more enjoyable life when I have a rotund bottom to spank whenever I feel the desire. I know what your thinking; no I do not spank my own bottom although it is pretty meaty if I do say so myself but it just isn't satisfying to spank because obviously I know it's coming. I'm happy to report that Justin still is the victim of my violent spanking outbursts. And he loves it damn it; at least that is what I tell myself. In all seriousness though things with Justin are spectacular. 

Back to my new friend. She has a farm. It is wonderful because of course all I want to do is pet animals until their fur falls off, then make blankets out of it. Over the past month or so I've been lucky enough to visit her farm thrice. Two times we rode horses. Nine times I tried to catch one of her FIVE cats. Anyway she has goats and they apparently really like to be milked because if my boobs were about to be exploding I'd want to be milked too. 

Today I found this thing on Pinterest. Normally I can't get tricked into Pinterest things but today I was like omg you can wash pillows? And so I did it. Trouble is one of them basically became a huge sack of water so I had to milk it. And I was damn good at it. There was video evidence of this wonderous moment however due to technical difficulties (brain lapses on how the fuck to post videos on this blog) I'm unable to offer up the ten second amazing pillow milking. Justin can attest to the fact that I milked the pillow because according to him I got pillow milk all over the laundry room floor, but in my defense I was milking and holding the camera phone and I'm not perfect. 

I think I'm ready for the goats now. Yes I realize this must come as a complete and total shock that this random post is the post that revives my much neglected blog. Like Malina has been dead silent for months and she comes back to talk about goat boobs? 

Maybe some day I'll get into the whats and why fors of the whole silence situation and maybe someday I won't. I guess you'll just have to stick around dear readers... That is if any of you are left. 

Because Yellow

Labor Day weekend proved to be both restful and busy at the same time. Oxymoronic I know. After the bridal shower for my BFF on Saturday Justin and I laid around all day Sunday excepting a quick run to the coffee shop. Have I mentioned we've been trying to cut back on paying for coffee? You see we steal it now... No just kidding we don't but we don't indulge as much as we used to. I would like to attribute this to my iron-will however I think it is mostly because caffeine has been mAking my heart beat out of my chest as of late. We have our coffee trips down to about once or twice a week which is far better than once or twice a day. Mmm decaf. 

Monday brought with it a birthday party in the park for a certain four year old boy. Temperatures were in the high seventies-low eighties so we basked in the sun and played some ultimate frisbee (or in my case just ran from one end of the field to the other trying to figure out whose team I was on. 

After that Justin's parents treated us to pizza which was amazing because Justin and I are both hungry hungry hippos. Let me tell you how nice it is to have future in-laws that are awesome. *sigh. I won the lottery with Justin they are just the icing on the lottery. Which if you know me you know I like icing! 

Here are a couple photos from the weekend. I wore my yellow pants to say adios to summer even though part of me is not quite ready to let it slip away. 

Here we are trying to master self portraits 

Here I am trying to figure out how to set the timer camera 

Yay yellow 

A perfect match :)

Justin Pettigrew

Ever since the tragic loss of one Mr. Bubble butt's big toe nail he has (rightly so) been a bit self conscious. I have trouble with toes but toes without toenails are extraordinarily frightening. The following conversation transpired this morning:

Me: you know last night at the bridal shower we talked a lot about you. The girls asked me what you were doing and I told them eating Los Betos.  We wished you would have come. 

Justin: And watch chick flicks? Those are horrible. 

Me: whatever you love them. But you could have done pedicures too. 

Justin: like you would want my toe anywhere near you, you hate it. 

Me: That's not true. If you were to spontaneously combust and every piece of you were gone except your toe I would pick it up and put it in my pocket. 

Justin: you would pick it up with tongs and put it in a bag and put it in your pocket. 

Me: No I would use my hands. Then when I got home I would draw a smiley face on it and set it on my nightstand. 

There is something terribly wrong with that conversation... If justin spontaneously combusted excepting his big toe I should have immediately suspected a Peter Pettigrew type scenario. Obviously he would be performing a bit of complex magic to attempt to escape my grasp before he would ever just spontaneously combust no matter HOW much Los Betos he ate. Duh. 

Feetball

I think there is a reason why football is called football. See the creators of the game knew that one day a certain man would exist. This man would find a girlfriend, nay a fiancé, who enjoys a good foot rub when she is offered one (Not from strangers though that would be weird since I don't have a foot fetish. Now spanking... That's another story).

Speaking of which I may or may not have accidentally messaged a co-worker this today *sigh

Back to my football story. Fortunately Justin still has the superstition he had last year regarding the whole 'I better massage Malina's feet so we can win this feetball game,' situation. So here I am on this lovely Friday eve preceding Labor Day weekend. A thunderstorm is a brewing accompanied by some much needed rain to quell the remaining fires. Feet+football+Friday+Fall=Fantastic