Walk a Day in My Pants

The other day I went into Hastings to rent a couple movies. I was planning to have a girl's day with a friend and then an in-home date night with my main squeeze. 

I was dressed in my fashionable new Hogwarts jogger sweatpants. The person in front of me in line wanted to buy like 12 Elmo shows that she thought she could use a coupon for, and it took like 15 minutes for the associate to explain that she couldn't.  

I tried to prepare as best I could to be 100% ready when she finally surrendered in her Sesame Street battle. I fumbled around in my purse for the keychain sized Hastings rental card which I never find unless I'm not looking for it. So I opted to get my ID out and have it available straight away for the associate. He apologized for the long wait, complimented my awesome threads (Hogwarts pants), and then took my ID. 

I vaguely noticed him pull my ID away from another card. I assumed it was a coffee punch card because I get a new one every time I go to get coffee because I can never find a punch card for the right place and I always feel like I'm cheating on whatever coffee place I'm going to if the catch a glimpse of a competitors' card. And baristas hate me already because I usually order a small iced decaf soy latte with hazelnut and vanilla. 

Anyway he handed my cards back and I said what card did I give you and pulled my ID away to reveal this:

I immediately turned red and said oh I was trying to give you a coupon for free panties. He laughed it off like it was no big deal and the guy behind me was laughing too. I was like awesome you tell me you like my pants and I pretty much invite you into my business. Ugh. And my coupon is expired because it was lost in my 30,000 coffee punch cards and I totally forgot I had it. So I didn't even get free panties. Panties. That's such a gross word. 

Don't sell your oats

I eat oatmeal for breakfast. So shoot me because Justin wants to. I guess it really isn't the fact that I eat oatmeal, but rather what I do with the container after I've "finished."

Sometimes I have like ninety things to carry downstairs when we are getting ready to leave in the morning. Like my book, or my phone. I just don't have enough room in my hands to grab the oatmeal container. Sometimes it gets left on Justin's side of the bed. Only sometimes though; like just every work day. 

Anyway last night I was exhausted when I climbed into bed, and I realized I'd left the oatmeal container on his side of the bed. I picked up the bowl then realized that the spoon was missing. I started feeling around in the dark and eventually my fingers closed around the handle. I pulled and with the spoon came Justin's favorite blanket. I was like whaaa??? 

Apparently the spoon had somehow dislodged from the container and still had oatmeal debris on it when did. Totally not my fault. I blame in on the lumpy side of Justin's bed. The oatmeal turned into superglue as it hardened and affixed itself permanently to Justin's blanket. I was eventually able to pull the spoon off because I have big muscles, and like the Dalai Lama says; "Nothing is permanent." I felt around and felt globs of oatmeal hardened on the blanket. 

I was so tired that I actually fell asleep trying to decide what to do about the chunky blanket. I didn't hear anything this morning about it so I think we are in the clear. I'll just wash the blanket and then the oatmeal should soften in the washer. Hey I'll even get second breakfast once the cycle is complete. The oatmeal should neatly pile up at the bottom of the washer basin and be perfect oatmeal consistency. And it'll be clean because it was just washed. Duh. 

I found these and I think Justin and I need them for our wedding and our honeymoon. Obviously I can eat cake with it and then use it to spank him later on.  Yup. 

Pizza tri-fecta

I can have hand tossed pizza from Pizza Hut sans the cheese and crust dust. Because I am always eating and rarely wanting to cook with as much work as I've been doing Justin and I probably get pizza about two times a month. We usually try to trick each other into being the one to suggest getting pizza since it is rather spendy ($15 I guess isn't the end of the world but twice a month for 12 months adds up possibly to $360 but that just doesn't make sense to my fatigued brain because that means pizza costs me a dollar a day. Huh.) anyway obviously our $ comes to the same place so really the argument is more about who is more of a pig I think. 

Last time we got pizza I ordered it because I tend to break like a hostage when it comes to food being wafted before me. I gave Justin a sideways glance once I realized the estimated arrival time was 1.5 hours. I fielded many questions about our pizza and if it was ever coming. Finally it did, and when it did mine had crust dust in it which contains dairy. 

I got to call, wait on hold for ten minutes, talk to someone about crust dust for five minutes, and wait another hour for two new pizzas to be delivered. I was thrilled. Except when I opened them one had fucking crust dust. I was like I'm going to steal all your crust dust you bastards. Except I'm super scared to stand up for myself so really I just watched while crouched in a shadowy corner with my one precious pizza as Justin got three pizzas, and I've been jealous ever since. 

Also here is a cat. 

Rocking the Knee High Socks

We have this RV parking spot in the back yard, or had rather. Historically it was filled with weeds and loads of spiders and rocks. This summer Justin decided to manicure the area. 

He and his dad have done the bulk of the work. Raking the weeds up, removing debris, starting to put down the weed barrier paper, eating Los Betos together etc. I helped a bit with the laying of the weed barrier. That was a mistake because Justin figured out I'm actually good at doing manual labor. Now I'm pretty sure he wants to he wants me to enter a lumberjack contest. Anyway I figured out I need to plan my outfit better when spending hours outside so it doesn't constantly look like I'm wearing knee high socks for the rest of the summer. 

The following weekend I won myself the position of rock washer after my expertise weed paper skills were discovered. Justin decided he wanted to take all of the rocks which had been raked up with the weeds, and rinse each individual stone then place it on top of the weed barrier. No; I'm not kidding. 

Me after one rock: it's so sunny out and I can finally fix my tan lines. 

After five rocks: well I venture to guess I'll be out here for like twenty four more years with how tedious this job is... guess I'll have plenty of time to fix my tan. 

After 100 rocks: there has to be another way to do this this is taking forever and I've covered like three square inches of space in this fucking huge RV spot. 

Justin: do whatever you think would help

I tried using the kitchen strainer, using buckets, using a wheel barrel etc nothing was working quickly 

Justin: there is still a lot of weed debris in with the rocks. Is this your clean pile? (He was pointing to the clean pile I'd worked on for over an hour)

Me: Yes, idiot. I can't believe you thought this was a good idea. 

 (Editing note: sorry Justin you definitely are not an idiot)

Justin: I'll help you. 

Ten minutes elapses... Or maybe another two hours there is no telling really. We both lie down on the weed barrier in defeat. 

Justin: this is really dumb. I'll have my dad come help tomorrow he'll know what to do. 

Me: Yeah okay. Sorry I called you an idiot. 

Tomorrow came and Justin and his dad determined that it was, after all, a bad idea to pursue cleaning off each individual rock. So long story short sometime next week we'll be getting new rocks. Hopefully they don't come with weeds in them. As for those I already cleaned they are in the backyard right where I left them probably collecting more weeds and debris. 

Like how are there not going to be weeds and dirt in there with the new rocks anyway? We should just get plastic rocks like you'd find at the bottom of a fish tank. Even then I'm sure that weeds will eventually blow into the area. Ugh adulting is annoying. 

Mercutio's Mirror

My friend Jessica got me this Hogwarts acceptance letter. It has been framed and sitting on my coffee table for some time. Justin and I are waiting for the stairwell to finish painting itself before we hang things up. 

The stairwell is taking forever and a day to get its shit together so I finally decided to move my letter to a better spot for safekeeping. Tragedy struck as I was fixated on the letter while I started walking out of the room. I had it held out in this way I used to hold a big mirror when I played this game ages ago in my youth. I would watch the ceiling in the mirror as I walked instead of watching the floor. Essentially the reflection of the ceiling was right in my path like a weird fun house. It was entertaining except for that time I fell down the stairs.  For a second with my letter it was kind of like I was playing that game again except I could only see a faint reflection in the glass of the frame. I was trying to focus on the reflection when I ran right into the wall and the corner of the frame impaled me and it was like, "Hogwarts was inside me!"

Damn it universe I want to go inside Hogwarts; not the other way around. I hobbled away in shock and put the framed letter in the pile of other things which will be hung eventually. In the meantime Justin came upstairs and yelled at me. 

Justin: Why are you laying on the floor?

Me: I've been impaled

Justin: What?? are you okay?

Me: No Hogwarts tried to kill me. 

I explained the situation, possibly leaving out the part about the game I played in my youth, and Justin asked to see the damage. I picked up my shirt and showed him gaping wound. 

Justin: That scratch? That is what you are worried about?

Me: a scratch; "ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man!"

Okay seriously like seven tomorrow's have come and I am still here. But I do still have a scab from Hogwarts. And for what it's worth I really do think I could play Mercutio almost as good as this guy. 

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.