I eat breakfast around 6:30 am, post WOD, pre blow dry. Always eggs. A few whole, a few whites, a little salsa, plus two fish oil pills.
Is it odd that it's 9:50 am and I'm hungry? Like really hungry?
Of course, I got busy and now it is 10:43 and I am even hungrier! When will the madness end?!
Does it weird anyone else out that so many guys are on Pinterest these days? I think Pinterest is pretty girly, at least it was when I got on it months ago.
Scariest: Two of my journalism professors started following all my boards. See, that's just weird. What do they care about the things I pin? Anybody out there have weird people following them?
Friday, October 28, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
ignorance is only good when:
My life would have been better not knowing M83 was playing in Houston next Friday.
I just found out last night. It is sold out. Now I either have to not go or pay at least double. What would you do?
I just found out last night. It is sold out. Now I either have to not go or pay at least double. What would you do?
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Vive La France!
I can't get enough of M83's new album.
It is sosososososososososososo good.
It is sosososososososososososo good.
Wednesday's always drag
My job is like working for twelve dads and one naggy mom, and two aunts and two uncles who don't care for me much.
My twelve work dads can't do much for themselves, except for two or three. Four of them are useless. Absolutely useless. I do everything for them that's not related to their field of expertise.
My naggy mom is manipulative and gossips more than anyone should. Some days are okay. Others I am a worse person for knowing her.
Harsh words, I know. I see the good in all these people. It is there. But some days I just really want to stop working here. Today it's for no particular reason except that I'm not doing what I love. Which means I'm not being true to myself.
I rationalize keeping this job because I don't want to go full time teaching music (I say I don't). I want the security and benefits. I want the bonuses and eating at nice restaurants. I don't want any other part of it.
I always had high hopes for myself as a writer, but I put those to bed long ago. I don't feel like a very good writer anymore, because I never write. I don't have anything to write about.
I want to make pretty things people can appreciate. I don't write songs anymore. I'm not sure I ever will again.
Changing all these things is as easy as I want it to be. I suppose I don't want to change it badly enough, or I am more content than I thought.
Do you ever think that you would be perfectly content without the Internet? I would be.
My twelve work dads can't do much for themselves, except for two or three. Four of them are useless. Absolutely useless. I do everything for them that's not related to their field of expertise.
My naggy mom is manipulative and gossips more than anyone should. Some days are okay. Others I am a worse person for knowing her.
Harsh words, I know. I see the good in all these people. It is there. But some days I just really want to stop working here. Today it's for no particular reason except that I'm not doing what I love. Which means I'm not being true to myself.
I rationalize keeping this job because I don't want to go full time teaching music (I say I don't). I want the security and benefits. I want the bonuses and eating at nice restaurants. I don't want any other part of it.
I always had high hopes for myself as a writer, but I put those to bed long ago. I don't feel like a very good writer anymore, because I never write. I don't have anything to write about.
I want to make pretty things people can appreciate. I don't write songs anymore. I'm not sure I ever will again.
Changing all these things is as easy as I want it to be. I suppose I don't want to change it badly enough, or I am more content than I thought.
Do you ever think that you would be perfectly content without the Internet? I would be.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Little things/big things
Sophomore (I think) year of high school, I bought a shirt at Urban Outfitters, which wasn't cool back then by the way. It was this random store in Berkeley that sold hippie skirts and weird clothes only Berkeley people wore. It was a cool store. I liked the one in SF too. That's where I found this shirt.
It was part of the Urban Renewal line, meaning they find old clothes and make them cool.
Perhaps it was a men's shirt. It's a nice plaid. A small scale print of black with red, green and yellow. Nice length.
When I bought it, I could barely fit my arms into the sleeves. I was about three inches away from being able to button it. But the shirt was $9.95, and I told myself that someday I would fit in that shirt.
Today is that day.
It was part of the Urban Renewal line, meaning they find old clothes and make them cool.
Perhaps it was a men's shirt. It's a nice plaid. A small scale print of black with red, green and yellow. Nice length.
When I bought it, I could barely fit my arms into the sleeves. I was about three inches away from being able to button it. But the shirt was $9.95, and I told myself that someday I would fit in that shirt.
Today is that day.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Useless
Did you know I am pretty much useless unless some form of music is playing? This could mean I am listening to music or singing. Singing out loud means I can still be productive; singing in my head means I am probably not productive because my thoughts are consumed by song.
In the 1+ year I have worked for this oil and gas firm, I have noticed that I am VERY unproductive at office work if no music is playing. Most days I remember to turn some on. Other days, like today, I forget. Except that I did just listen to almost all of Sheryl Crow's greatest hits album. I am a little embarrassed to say this because I don't really like Sheryl Crow, but she has the same song style as Lucinda Williams who I love, but I can't listen to Lucinda Williams or I'll get her songs stuck in my head and then sing them around Jeff who hates Lucinda Williams.
I am most productive when I listen to Radiohead, specifically any albums after (and including) "Kid A." I noticed this was the case as well during school when I had to write a bunch of articles or design a bunch of magazines. If I listen to something like Petula Clark's smash hit "Downtown" I become an interpretive dancer. See, I have to be careful.
I will say one more funny thing or maybe two. On Sunday the Primary presidency announced the ice cream party after the program practice tomorrow. My class favorite, Andrew, who is basically an old man in a nine-year-old's body, suddenly looked like he was going to cry. Turns out he has missed the ice cream party for the past FIVE years because of tennis practice, and he was so sad about it. I am not sure he was telling the truth because he was four-years-old five years ago, and a Sunbeam who had little to no long-term memory. Regardless, he was very sad to miss the mediocre ice cream at the ice cream party.
Next is another of our little class members, who is getting baptized along with his sister tomorrow. I was at their house a few weeks ago with the missionaries to teach a lesson. They brought out their guinea pig Johnny, who is really cute. Then the sister ran in her room and came running back out moments later with something made of red satin in her hands. I thought it was a cape to make Johnny a super hero. Actually it was a pair of underpants from her Build-A-Bear. So we had a great laugh while the kids put the panties on Johnny. He looked hot. I would post some of the pictures I took, but it's probably not right to post pictures of someone else's child on the Interweb.
In the 1+ year I have worked for this oil and gas firm, I have noticed that I am VERY unproductive at office work if no music is playing. Most days I remember to turn some on. Other days, like today, I forget. Except that I did just listen to almost all of Sheryl Crow's greatest hits album. I am a little embarrassed to say this because I don't really like Sheryl Crow, but she has the same song style as Lucinda Williams who I love, but I can't listen to Lucinda Williams or I'll get her songs stuck in my head and then sing them around Jeff who hates Lucinda Williams.
I am most productive when I listen to Radiohead, specifically any albums after (and including) "Kid A." I noticed this was the case as well during school when I had to write a bunch of articles or design a bunch of magazines. If I listen to something like Petula Clark's smash hit "Downtown" I become an interpretive dancer. See, I have to be careful.
I will say one more funny thing or maybe two. On Sunday the Primary presidency announced the ice cream party after the program practice tomorrow. My class favorite, Andrew, who is basically an old man in a nine-year-old's body, suddenly looked like he was going to cry. Turns out he has missed the ice cream party for the past FIVE years because of tennis practice, and he was so sad about it. I am not sure he was telling the truth because he was four-years-old five years ago, and a Sunbeam who had little to no long-term memory. Regardless, he was very sad to miss the mediocre ice cream at the ice cream party.
Next is another of our little class members, who is getting baptized along with his sister tomorrow. I was at their house a few weeks ago with the missionaries to teach a lesson. They brought out their guinea pig Johnny, who is really cute. Then the sister ran in her room and came running back out moments later with something made of red satin in her hands. I thought it was a cape to make Johnny a super hero. Actually it was a pair of underpants from her Build-A-Bear. So we had a great laugh while the kids put the panties on Johnny. He looked hot. I would post some of the pictures I took, but it's probably not right to post pictures of someone else's child on the Interweb.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Plan for happiness
I feel overcome this morning. First, it is Monday. I never like Mondays. Mondays are always long days catching up on weekend e-mails. Long because I've deviated from my 9 to 4:30 sleep schedule all weekend and trying to shove myself back on it is usually disastrous (like last night...didn't sleep very well). Second, Primary Program practice was SO LONG yesterday. We went straight through TWICE with NO BREAKS. I thought I was going to die, worse than the kids. But BouBou had it worse, because he sat next to a nice boy, but a boy who has bad behavioral issues, so the kid was stroking Jeff's face half the time and telling him about all the video games he plays. I dismissed Jeff to Priesthood meeting after the first run-through. Not much of a treat, but at least he got away from the deja vu!
Third, and the main source of my feeling overcome, is this weather here in Houston. I have complained before, I know. But I have every right to, and until you come down here and see what I mean, well, you'd better not tell me to stop.
Up until yesterday, it was still 90 degrees here. We have had a few nice days, lower in the 80s, but mostly it is hot.
But yesterday, oh yesterday, it was the most blessed rainy day. We need the rain so badly. I need the rain. Watching the strings and strings of water pelt the dirty ground was so soothing. We went for an afternoon drive and I loved hearing the wipers swish and feeling the small vibrations of the rain rocks on the car.
And the temperature. Oh, the temperature. It was so nice out. High 60s. I deservedly wore a jacket. It was humid but the raindrops were cold.
It was so cold in our apartment this morning. I thought it was cold outside because we left the patio door open to let in the outside air. But I didn't know a little night elf had woken up hot and saw that I was hot (out of the covers, allegedly) so he closed the door and turned on the ever-roaring a/c. And I woke up and it was cold but cold because of the a/c not the outside.
There have been a few other times while I'm sitting at work. I look out my window and I think, It looks so cold outside. I hope it is cold outside. And then 3:30 rolls around and I walk outside only to be disappointed with the hot sun, hot air, hot car, hot world.
Meanwhile in EVERY OTHER PART OF THE NATION people are wearing scarves and boots and blazers and cardigans and opening windows to smell crisp cool air and I look at the design blogs and style blogs talking about fall and what to wear in fall and how to decorate for fall and I lament my existence in this hot, hellish Houston because those things won't start defining Houston until January, MAYBE. Oh Houston. You don't even cool off at night. Our a/c hasn't been off since March. You offer no reprieve.
I am making great efforts these days to focus less on certain obsessions of late. Crossfit, paleo, Whole30s (finished one last week, starting a new one this week to really heal my acne and persistent acid reflux) namely. Jeff and I are committed to not eating out for the next 30 days (he is doing this Whole30 as well). We are trying to de-materialize our lives in a number of ways. Control spending. We save a good portion of our income. Sometimes I look at people's blogs and all the cute stuff they have and I think, "But how do they afford it?" Numerous weekend trips, new clothes all the time, eating out, buying cutesy decor for their homes, and how? And why? I am so happy Jeff and I save and save and save and even though it would be nice to have everything I've ever wanted from Anthro and J.Crew, it's just not worth it to me. Someday I will be happy on our little farm, doing WODs in our home gym and eating pastured eggs from our pastured chickens and growing tons and tons of heirloom vegetables that we will eat and can and sell at the farmer's market. Okay, maybe not all that, but we will live off the land as much as we can and prepare and save and plan for happiness.
I like that. Plan for happiness.
Despite Houston, despite the fact I still want to throw up from the cold, delicious glass of chocolate milk I shouldn't have drunk last night, I am so, so happy.
Third, and the main source of my feeling overcome, is this weather here in Houston. I have complained before, I know. But I have every right to, and until you come down here and see what I mean, well, you'd better not tell me to stop.
Up until yesterday, it was still 90 degrees here. We have had a few nice days, lower in the 80s, but mostly it is hot.
But yesterday, oh yesterday, it was the most blessed rainy day. We need the rain so badly. I need the rain. Watching the strings and strings of water pelt the dirty ground was so soothing. We went for an afternoon drive and I loved hearing the wipers swish and feeling the small vibrations of the rain rocks on the car.
And the temperature. Oh, the temperature. It was so nice out. High 60s. I deservedly wore a jacket. It was humid but the raindrops were cold.
It was so cold in our apartment this morning. I thought it was cold outside because we left the patio door open to let in the outside air. But I didn't know a little night elf had woken up hot and saw that I was hot (out of the covers, allegedly) so he closed the door and turned on the ever-roaring a/c. And I woke up and it was cold but cold because of the a/c not the outside.
There have been a few other times while I'm sitting at work. I look out my window and I think, It looks so cold outside. I hope it is cold outside. And then 3:30 rolls around and I walk outside only to be disappointed with the hot sun, hot air, hot car, hot world.
Meanwhile in EVERY OTHER PART OF THE NATION people are wearing scarves and boots and blazers and cardigans and opening windows to smell crisp cool air and I look at the design blogs and style blogs talking about fall and what to wear in fall and how to decorate for fall and I lament my existence in this hot, hellish Houston because those things won't start defining Houston until January, MAYBE. Oh Houston. You don't even cool off at night. Our a/c hasn't been off since March. You offer no reprieve.
I am making great efforts these days to focus less on certain obsessions of late. Crossfit, paleo, Whole30s (finished one last week, starting a new one this week to really heal my acne and persistent acid reflux) namely. Jeff and I are committed to not eating out for the next 30 days (he is doing this Whole30 as well). We are trying to de-materialize our lives in a number of ways. Control spending. We save a good portion of our income. Sometimes I look at people's blogs and all the cute stuff they have and I think, "But how do they afford it?" Numerous weekend trips, new clothes all the time, eating out, buying cutesy decor for their homes, and how? And why? I am so happy Jeff and I save and save and save and even though it would be nice to have everything I've ever wanted from Anthro and J.Crew, it's just not worth it to me. Someday I will be happy on our little farm, doing WODs in our home gym and eating pastured eggs from our pastured chickens and growing tons and tons of heirloom vegetables that we will eat and can and sell at the farmer's market. Okay, maybe not all that, but we will live off the land as much as we can and prepare and save and plan for happiness.
I like that. Plan for happiness.
Despite Houston, despite the fact I still want to throw up from the cold, delicious glass of chocolate milk I shouldn't have drunk last night, I am so, so happy.
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