Oh pollen...How I hate thee!

I have loved North Carolina for a very long time, and always dreamed of living here, but I never expected Spring to be like something out of a Stephen King novel...Everything has been coated in a fine layer of yellow dust for weeks now. My future-mother-in-law's (henceforth known as FMIL) yellow car...is well yellower.

I used to love yellow, but I now see it as the color of hate...And I hear that's not all NC has to offer either: SPIDERS THE SIZE OF DOOR KNOBS! Okay, so maybe they aren't THAT big, but from the cell phone pic FBIL showed me, they're pretty monstrous, and apparently pretty common. If you all remember my spider/'pider post, you will know just how well I will get along with those beasts...le sigh. I am doomed. I should have known Utopia doens't exist.

I just looked down at my flip-flop-clad feet and my pink polish has a fine yellow dusting. As if having bad seasonal allergies isn't enough torture, I apparently am in the one state that is being taken over by flowers and other polleny things. *Sigh.* I honestly wouldn't be so bitchy if I didn't have a pollen-induced migraine of a head ache right now...Honestly.

This post is rambly and poorly contructed, so if you made it this far, THANK YOU :)

Ta Da! I am back, and better than ever...okay, maybe not.

I know, I know...I have been gone for a really, really, really long time and I hadn't realized just how long until a friend (yeah, you, Christina!) pointed out how she missed my writing. You know what? I have missed it too. A lot. So I most likely have lost the interest of whoever read this thing, but who cares? I am starting anew.

So pretty much here's my year (2009) in review:

1. I found my niche.
2. I got my dream job working at an at-risk youth shelter.
3. I lost 165 lbs (i.e. ending things with my now-ex who I finally realized was never going to treat me better, make me happier, or love me more).
4. Got my priorities straight.
5. Had a not-so midlife crisis.
6. Rediscovered my creativity, motivation, inspiration, and passion.
7. Found happiness within myself.
8. Started dating.
9. Started writing again, and now have countless novel projects, but am focusing on just one :)
10. Had the most incredible summer.
11. Realized who my true friends are.
12. Made some mistakes.
13. Learned from them.
14. Grew up a little, but not too much.
15. Met some incredible people.
16. Learned to cook a little more.
17. Went cliff jumping, to concerts, and had countless adventures with B and my other friends.
18. Made some self-discoveries.
19. Worked on improving my relationship with God.
20. Overcame my fears, but not the fears of spiders, or Lady GaGa...understandably.
21. Met the most amazing person who quickly became my best friend, ACL.
21. Fell truly, deeply in love with ACL.
22. Took my first vacation in years--5 1/2 incredible days with ACL.
23. Passed a math class! And let me tell you, that's like me syaing I got accepted to Harvard. I well, and truly, suck at math, so except the four horsemen and rain of fire anyday now...
24. Got pulled over...twice. Oops!
25. Taught B to drive, and what a harrowing experience that was...
26. Made a roller coaster out of a gravel road...Don't ask, haha.
27. Danced in the rain, witnessed countless sunsets, walked in the forests, strolled on the beach, gazed at the stars, admired the moon, watched a meteor shower...Appreciated life.
28. Truly lived.
29. Got really sick, and ended up in the ER :(

It was a crazy, beautiful, incredible year and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Here's 2010 so far...

1. Was sick over New Year's, but ACL and I talked until after the ball dropped :)
2. My grandmother passed away.
3. I moved to NC abruptly three days later to be with ACL, and hopefully put to rest my family issues.
4. Apparently that didn't work since my parents reported me as missing, and B won't talk to me.
5. Went to the beach a few times.
6. Rode my first motorcycle and dirtbike with ACL.
7. Went to my first drag race.
8. Took up painting again.
9. Worked harder on my novel.
10. Went to an Army retirement ceremony.
11. Watched paratroopers (including ACL's dad) jump from airplanes.
12. Got engaged :)

So now that we've caught up, I am going to share some of my goals...

-I want to actually work out. Yeah, at a gym. And you though those four-letter words were bad...
-I want to find a job.
-I want to plan a wedding before August without going crazier.
-I want to finish my novel, or start sending chapters out to publishers.
-I want to reopen my Etsy shop, and start crafting again, and actually make some money (pocket change even!) doing something I like.
-I want to buy a Nikon d40, or perhaps the new generation, and do something with my photography.
-I want to actually keep up with this blog.

And that's just a start :)

Easy Bake Oven Saga

I thought the harmonica was bad. I thought wrong. These days my youngest sister has taken to the Easy Bake Oven, and is always baking. Always. Goodbye, harmonica and recorder. Hello, mostly baked goods. She has found her way into her bestfriend's brother's heart with her goodies. He is just 7 years-old, and can't get over how good at cooking she is. He even proposed, so the old addage "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach" is true. Apparently. So now I need to learn to cook and bake...

Anyway, how can you resist a miniature person who looks at you conjolingly while offering something they baked "just for you"? Ugh, she would make the Grinch's heart grow ten sizes.
Everytime I succumb I wonder if I am going to die. After all, how safe could it be, baking in a plastic oven with a light bulb? Olivia and her cakes of doom...

To Be Continued...Maybe. I just ate another of her cakes.

A is my favorite letter of the alphabet...

For my digital art and photography class we had to do a self-portrait series, and yours truly received an A. I have to admit that it felt a bit weird photo shooting myself, but once I got into it, it actually became easier, and I discovered using myself is actually a cheap and easy was to improve my skills at photographing people. Of course, I also use my sisters, muhahaha.

1:



2:



3:



4:



Coming up next: A photo series on someone else. I think I'll volunteer my sister for this ;)

Spiders vs. 'Piders

I did battle with a spider today, and nearly lost. I love snakes. In fact, I've had one bigger around than my arm round my neck, but the word "spider" is enough to send me into convulsions...A friend of mine tries to make them sound "less threatening" by referring to Them as "'piders," but it doesn't work. A spider is a spider no matter the name or size. My spider theory--yes, obviously at one point I had too much time to actually develop a theory regarding the brutes--is that if you can see a spider, it's too big. Oh, and it deserves to die. Do NOT believe anyone who say you're a million times bigger than that "little thing," as if that makes them less fearsome. Uh, not to mention that David brought down Goliath.

Anyway, I have a 6th sense about spiders. If they're around, I know it. Just like I knew the one the size of a pinhead was trying to bungee jump onto my shoulder from his tiny little web. Today I was minding my own business--yeah, yeah, surprise of surprises--when I knew one was watching me. I look around, then I saw him, on the curtain. I jumped up and reached for the vacuum cleaner wand. I don't squash--that involves getting near the blasted thing--I suffocate. I don't want to hear "aww" or "how cruel." I'd like to see how you deal with a multi-eyed, eight legged, hideous, ugly, beastly invader. I came near, and I could almost hear his, "Uh oh."

He ran up the curtain and tried to hide in the folds, then when the vacuum cleaner growled, I jumped on my bed, wand in hand. The spider sprang on top of the curtain, and rushed towards me, then stopped as if he had seen this huge, wild-eyed, vacuum-wand-wielding giant, which he had... And tried to head up the wall. That is where he met his maker. Buffy slays vampires, I slay spiders. Not much of a difference, really. The moral of the story? I don't really have one. I hate spider, 'piders, and any other cutesy variations. I also hate that guy who thought it'd be funny to come up behind me with a tarantula, knowing how I felt about even the smallest spider, and stick it in my face. Needless to say he won't be reproducing. No loss to the human race, to be sure.

Harmonica...O how I hate thee!

Here's a pointer for all you would-be, should-be, might-be parents. Don't buy an eight year old a harmonica. My mom made that mistake, and Olivia decided to wake me up playing something a cross between the Mexian Death March and a cat in the trash compactor. I jolted awake, looking like a creature from Shelley's imagination, and behaving like Queen Latifah in "Bringing Down the House."
For a moment, I thought I was dead, but I realized that if that was somebody's idea of a heavenly chorus, they needed lots of help.
Olivia just beamed at me, "I hope you like it because I wrote it for you."
What can you say to that? Really. I just melted into a puddle, and smiled at her, and told her thank you....that I loved it. Can God really hold that teeny lie against me? And I really did feel warmer to it after she told me about it.
I passed mom on the way to the blessed shower, and grumbled, "Was it YOUR idea to buy her that noisemaker?"
She just grinned, and told me that Bethany and I had both had hormonicas.
I told her I didn't remember that. Perhaps I blocked it out.
"I do," she said with emphasis.
I later learned Olivia had dropped it on the street, and it fell apart, nearly getting run over. It survived. Mom put it back together like Humpty freakin' Dumpty, and now as I write this, Olivia is sounding like the Little Engine That Couldn't.

Dentists: Agents of Evil

Today was simply wonderful. If you don't catch the sarcasm, a 800 pound woman named Olga will sneak up on you, and smack you senseless. I had a final dentist appointment today that would last an hour. Did I mention that my dentist's office is located in the butt crack of West Virginia? In that town, there are no "town weirdos," because they're all rather strange.
I was not looking forward to the visit at all, as last time half of my face (even my eyeball) was numb for the rest of the day because her assistant got injection-happy. I had this awesome Al Capone sneer going, but my smile was worthless.

This time they numbed pretty much everything that could be numbed. My tongue felt like it weighed five pounds, and I couldn't feel my lips or face. The assistant--I named her Bloody Mary for the flossing incident of '06, which I'll leave to everyone's clever imaginations--tried to talk to me during the procedure. Okay, I am numb, my tongue and lips are useless, my mouth is held open by a torturous plastic "thingy," and there's a drill in my mouth. I've been told I'm a wonderful conversationalist, but even I'm not that good.

They're shrouded, goggled, and masked as if I am going to contaminate them with cooties or something. They leave me virtually uncovered with tooth dust flying in my contacts. What fun. I learned never to close your eyes when you're at the dentist because they think they killed you. They almost did, I'm sure. I found out that my dentist has husband issues. His voice gives her an instant headache, and she's tired of long days with people in her lap. Okay....And I thought the redneck on parole in the waiting room with punched-lose teeth, and no reading ability had it bad.

After they had finished, I tried to speak, but garbled noises came out...I take pride in my speaking ability, but it was gone for hours. I spoke only when needed, as I sounded like a 3 month old. As if stealing my smile last time wasn't bad enough, they took my speaking ability. This crap lasts six hours.
I found many photo opportunities--strange people (go figure), a burned out store and mannequin (I made the arson investigator kinda suspicious), and a house painted like the American flag (um, don't know what to make of that).

When the opportunity presented itself, I also studied for my math class...