Wednesday, September 28, 2011
6 Minutes
That's how long I have to write this. I've been subconsciously putting off studying for this test all afternoon and now I feel like crap because I'm thinking of how prepared I would be for the test by now and how I could blog like a crazy persona and then go straight to bed. But I can't. So in five minutes at 10 PM I WILL study and then at eleven or when I'm fully prepared (whichever comes first) I am going to bed (unless I become "un-tired" by then). Apartment hunting, going pretty well, just got to work out some details with Lover Boy but he's still sick so the talking isn't happening so much but we did have a nice long talk last night about how we are going to start compromising more. So I'm happy with what I've got right now. Also, apparently, I got like 28 page views today, which is amazing. Up until this point, someone only accidentally stumbled across this thing every now and then but that's fine. I mean it's a personal blog so you all probably don't find it all that interesting but I adore the documentation of trivial (and not so trivial) moments of my life. So even if nobody reads this, I'm happy enough that it's here. :) Time to go. One minute to post and get offline. Have a nice night! :)
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
So I Have to Acquire a Horse, a Gun and a Stylish New Coat
This is my problem when it comes to creative blog post titling: I get ideas that are just barely related to what I'm going to talk about then new ideas (ones that are even less related) spring from those. All this over a post title. So real quick, before I actually blog about anything, I'm going to explain the title.
I'm writing this one about apartment hunting and for some weird reason, I thought of foxhunting type hunting. So I thought "Well I'll title it 'I'm Taking the Dogs Out Today for a Bit of Hunting'" and then I thought, well I'll call it "the title I have up" because when I started thinking about the foxhunting I googled it and got all interested and found this cute coat and blah blah blah. So here's the coat and a cute little vest I would wear under it (if I could afford such luxuries):
Yes, I know they're for fox hunting, but whatever. I'd wear them. Often.
Time to get on with the blog post!
I'm apartment hunting! :D
I have to get an apartment next year anyway to keep Dante while Loverboy is gone for the year, so I started asking around a bit. I've found a very nice possibility and was strongly considering moving in earlier just to ensure I would be able to get a room and to get out of this one. The thought of all the money I COULD save if I waited til next year was making me sick, so I was questioning myself. I'm not big on renting. You invest and get no return at all. And yet, I want something of my own. Something that's mine. Only. I want a chance to live by myself and do things the way I want to. If only I could afford a fixer upper, I would be thrilled. But anyway, like I said, I was doubting whether or not to go ahead and get it for December or wait because of the money I could save. I mean, think of it! I would save about $300 dollars a month by not renting and just living on campus. I could save for my wedding, for my Master's degree, for my house! The only reason I'm considering it at all is because I'll have to get one when he leaves and what if there isn't one available then? August is when all the students come back and try to find places to live... Nobody is looking in December. And from December to June is only 6 months, so I would only save....$1200?...Holy crap, that just made me much more hesitant. But in June, when Loverboy's lease is up, he said he's move up here. Of course, I don't want him to move in with me though.... I mean I do. But I don't. I dont want to play house. If he Loves me, then he won't ask me to. But we're talking about it. I'll keep you updated! :)
I'm writing this one about apartment hunting and for some weird reason, I thought of foxhunting type hunting. So I thought "Well I'll title it 'I'm Taking the Dogs Out Today for a Bit of Hunting'" and then I thought, well I'll call it "the title I have up" because when I started thinking about the foxhunting I googled it and got all interested and found this cute coat and blah blah blah. So here's the coat and a cute little vest I would wear under it (if I could afford such luxuries):
Yes, I know they're for fox hunting, but whatever. I'd wear them. Often.
Time to get on with the blog post!
I'm apartment hunting! :D
I have to get an apartment next year anyway to keep Dante while Loverboy is gone for the year, so I started asking around a bit. I've found a very nice possibility and was strongly considering moving in earlier just to ensure I would be able to get a room and to get out of this one. The thought of all the money I COULD save if I waited til next year was making me sick, so I was questioning myself. I'm not big on renting. You invest and get no return at all. And yet, I want something of my own. Something that's mine. Only. I want a chance to live by myself and do things the way I want to. If only I could afford a fixer upper, I would be thrilled. But anyway, like I said, I was doubting whether or not to go ahead and get it for December or wait because of the money I could save. I mean, think of it! I would save about $300 dollars a month by not renting and just living on campus. I could save for my wedding, for my Master's degree, for my house! The only reason I'm considering it at all is because I'll have to get one when he leaves and what if there isn't one available then? August is when all the students come back and try to find places to live... Nobody is looking in December. And from December to June is only 6 months, so I would only save....$1200?...Holy crap, that just made me much more hesitant. But in June, when Loverboy's lease is up, he said he's move up here. Of course, I don't want him to move in with me though.... I mean I do. But I don't. I dont want to play house. If he Loves me, then he won't ask me to. But we're talking about it. I'll keep you updated! :)
Monday, September 26, 2011
Are You as Broke as I Am?
Cause I am pretty darn broke. But let me tell you about this. This site will offer you free, legit services that will rock your world! I've been using it since my freshman year of high school! They match you up with schools, scholarships, grants, any type of financial aid available and bring you the information! The keep up with the deadlines!!! I mean HOLY CRAP! That's so awesome! If you need money for school (ie: housing, new computer, books, tuition, groceries, ANY education related expense) it's here!!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Seriously. Just saying.
And I need to stop complaining so much. So, to rectify my just written, horrible grouchy post about my annoying sister and her even more annoying boyfriend, I have decided I must write a post entirely (except for that last clause...) of optimism and happy things. Here we go...
Photo Albums Made of Text
(I decided to title this part just because, like I said, I've been slacking off on the creative name coming up with part of this whole experience). So.
Number One: I decided to start yet another project, but it's not going to officially start until my anniversary in October. I'm going to make a book of 365 reasons (one for every day of the year) why I Love Mr. Ireland. :) Mushy Gushy and stuff, I know. But I think it will work out well. So when I get done with this, I'm going to try to get a head start and write a few down. That way, when we are fighting or something and I don't really feel like doing it because I'm in a bad mood, I will still have something to work with (because let's admit it, sometimes, your partner just sucks lol).
So that will be fun.
Proposition number two: I'm going to focus on the new puppy. How can you be anything but happy around a puppy?! So tomorrow, after I get off work, I'm going to go with Ireland and Dante to the Petsmart. :) I've always wanted to be one of the people who take their doggie inside. I also need to make a name tag for him and look into apartments around campus that let you have pets. That way, if Lover Boy has to leave for deployment, I can keep Dante.
Numero tres: I got my homework in on time tonight. :)
Number four: I already feel a bit better about this whole thing (even though, it still isn't ok, of course...)
Number five: I'm thinking about how lucky I am to have, not a guy LIKE mine, but mine. :) I'm just so....glad. I can't even express what it is to Love him, it's just so intense. Sometimes it's heat and sometimes it's a soft cool breeze; sometimes it's passionate and sometimes it's sweet; sometimes it's like the old couple everyone wants to be like and sometimes it's like that new couple in high school that are cute and can't keep their hands off each other; sometimes it just overtakes me in the middle of the night and I just need him there with me so I can hug him and tell him how thankful I am that he's mine, how sorry I am for all the mistakes I've made and how completely I forgive him for the ones he's made. It's a beautiful thing, wouldn't trade it for the whole world and all the things I ever thought I wanted.
Number six: It's almost time to go to sleep and sleep is so, so sweet.
Number seven: Lover Boy is coming up tomorrow (hopefully) and is bringing Dante.
Number eight: I have a cold soda. :) yum.
Number nine: my computer course instructor is considering making us create a blog for credit. Cha-ching. Ahead of the game baby.
Number ten: newly cut, wet grass is one of the best smells in the world. Even better than air conditioning in summertime.
Eleven: I have an awesome jacket that I got for $20.
Twelve: My boss complimented me on my work yesterday. :D Booyah.
Thirteen: I'm going to stop counting so I can make a "quantity is not as important as quality" point :)
And I need to stop complaining so much. So, to rectify my just written, horrible grouchy post about my annoying sister and her even more annoying boyfriend, I have decided I must write a post entirely (except for that last clause...) of optimism and happy things. Here we go...
Photo Albums Made of Text
(I decided to title this part just because, like I said, I've been slacking off on the creative name coming up with part of this whole experience). So.
Number One: I decided to start yet another project, but it's not going to officially start until my anniversary in October. I'm going to make a book of 365 reasons (one for every day of the year) why I Love Mr. Ireland. :) Mushy Gushy and stuff, I know. But I think it will work out well. So when I get done with this, I'm going to try to get a head start and write a few down. That way, when we are fighting or something and I don't really feel like doing it because I'm in a bad mood, I will still have something to work with (because let's admit it, sometimes, your partner just sucks lol).
So that will be fun.
Proposition number two: I'm going to focus on the new puppy. How can you be anything but happy around a puppy?! So tomorrow, after I get off work, I'm going to go with Ireland and Dante to the Petsmart. :) I've always wanted to be one of the people who take their doggie inside. I also need to make a name tag for him and look into apartments around campus that let you have pets. That way, if Lover Boy has to leave for deployment, I can keep Dante.
Numero tres: I got my homework in on time tonight. :)
Number four: I already feel a bit better about this whole thing (even though, it still isn't ok, of course...)
Number five: I'm thinking about how lucky I am to have, not a guy LIKE mine, but mine. :) I'm just so....glad. I can't even express what it is to Love him, it's just so intense. Sometimes it's heat and sometimes it's a soft cool breeze; sometimes it's passionate and sometimes it's sweet; sometimes it's like the old couple everyone wants to be like and sometimes it's like that new couple in high school that are cute and can't keep their hands off each other; sometimes it just overtakes me in the middle of the night and I just need him there with me so I can hug him and tell him how thankful I am that he's mine, how sorry I am for all the mistakes I've made and how completely I forgive him for the ones he's made. It's a beautiful thing, wouldn't trade it for the whole world and all the things I ever thought I wanted.
Number six: It's almost time to go to sleep and sleep is so, so sweet.
Number seven: Lover Boy is coming up tomorrow (hopefully) and is bringing Dante.
Number eight: I have a cold soda. :) yum.
Number nine: my computer course instructor is considering making us create a blog for credit. Cha-ching. Ahead of the game baby.
Number ten: newly cut, wet grass is one of the best smells in the world. Even better than air conditioning in summertime.
Eleven: I have an awesome jacket that I got for $20.
Twelve: My boss complimented me on my work yesterday. :D Booyah.
Thirteen: I'm going to stop counting so I can make a "quantity is not as important as quality" point :)
I dyed
my hair again last night and missed a huge spot but you can't tell!
My
internet is actually working!
I think
I've worked out enough that I can find a pair of rain boots to fit my legs!
I found
a cute little plastic raccoon at church that I named Mushi and put on my window
sill! He's adorable and holding an apple!
Even
though I won't do it very often, I can skip class whenever I want to!!!
I have a
scholarship.
My
boyfriend is amazing. I just thought of yet another reason why that is true.
Fresh
pencils are fabulous. So is pretty paper.
Does
anybody else like easy mac as much as I do?
I own
some plastic maracas.
I feel
way less grouchy/complain-y now.
My StumbleUpon account
is one of the best internet things to ever happen to me.
There is
God and I truly believe He Loves me, even during times like this.
I'm
alive and healthy, even though I complain.
I'm
free.
I'm in
Love.
I'm
Loved.
I'm
kinda funny :)
I'm
actually not counting.
I'm
ready to go to sleep :)
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Past Up to Here
Ok. I've had it. I've HAD it.
O.M.G.S. needs to get out of my room. Tell me this is not INSANITY:
He is here, every night, until AT LEAST 11 PM.
He is here every day, from about four.
He is in this room when neither I nor SHE are in here.
He was talking to her (AT WORK) on a WEBCAM at EIGHT FREAKING AM this morning WHILE WE WERE DRESSING, and she apparently didn't think this worth mentioning to me while I was brushing my teeth or changing my clothes or asking if you could see my panda covered underwear through my dress!
Are you really freaking serious?! What do you people think this is? A show girl act?! It's our ROOM! Our only place of privacy! And you are not only annoying the bad word out of me by having his presence saturate every single moment of what should be my alone time, you are getting mad at ME for being mad about it! How much more blunt do I have to be than "Don't screw around while I'm IN THE ROOM and he can't be in here all the time"?? Do I have to have the idiotic boy (BOY) kicked out of the building?! I mean holy freaking crap!
Don't say it. Don't you dare say "Just have a sit down and calmly discuss the issue with them; use lots of 'I messages.'" I tried that. At first I hinted, very subtly. Then I hinted, not so subtly. Then I talked to them separately, and of course, got assurance from both of them that there would no longer be a problem. Then, when there was still a problem, I talked to the together, very calmly. I again, was reassured that there would no longer be a problem. We'll go to his house on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they say (well at least that's SOMETHING, but I can't deal with this crap even three days of the week). There was, of course, still a problem. Then I talked to them separately again, with the same results. Then I started acting like a bitch. I mean telling random, practically strangers (to them at least) about their pitiful excuse of a sex life and how obnoxious they were RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM should have, surely, made them understand that they needed to freaking chill. But did it? OF COURSE NOT!
I'm exasperated. He's mad because I'm not sharing my sodas. Well, first of all, I would have if you had helped me carry them. But no, we walked back from the store and not only had I just paid full price (didn't half it with sissy of course, that would have been a financial burden to little miss I-have-to-pay-no-bills), but I carried them the whole back and it was raining. Is a carton of canned sodas really that heavy? no, it's manageable, but I'm tiny and I have no upper body strength and it would have been nice for someone (who was supposed to a freaking marine, yeah right, pitiful little whiny cockroach) to offer when I was so obviously struggling with the stupid thing. But whatever, don't even LOOK at my carton of soda.
I'm past trying to be mature about it. They're both driving me crazy and she doesn't even care that not only is he a total jackass, she's closely following in his footsteps. Well, if she doesn't care, I sure as heck don't have to. The stupid sister-type relationship can dissolve into the abyss for all I care. Then I don't have to ever invite his stinking tail over for Christmas and that is just FINE with me! I'm to the point that if I could move out, I would. The ONLY reason I haven't just marched my little hiney up to Housing is because I paid just as much for this room as she did (as opposed to the fact that HE paid nothing, therefore this is not his room, therefore he needs to get the bad word out of it) and my stuff and myself has just as much right to be here as she does. So SHE can leave if it comes to that.
I don't think it's too much to ask to have some privacy in your own room that you paid for. I mean I give them PLENTY of time to themselves. Do I ever get ANY alone time with my guy here? No. Do I ever get any alone time period? No. Can I ever actually sleep without hearing his stupid ringtone go off every five minutes all night every night and at 6-8 AM every single morning? No. Does she even bother to close the door quietly when she leaves to go see the creeping mother cusser? No. No she does not. She slams the freaking door every single morning. I don't want maturity anymore. I want vengeance. Petty vengeance. If anyone has any ideas how to drive them crazy without being able to be blamed for it, please share. >:)
I don't care. I know I'm being mean and a bit irrational but I don't care. They are horses' rears.
O.M.G.S. needs to get out of my room. Tell me this is not INSANITY:
He is here, every night, until AT LEAST 11 PM.
He is here every day, from about four.
He is in this room when neither I nor SHE are in here.
He was talking to her (AT WORK) on a WEBCAM at EIGHT FREAKING AM this morning WHILE WE WERE DRESSING, and she apparently didn't think this worth mentioning to me while I was brushing my teeth or changing my clothes or asking if you could see my panda covered underwear through my dress!
Are you really freaking serious?! What do you people think this is? A show girl act?! It's our ROOM! Our only place of privacy! And you are not only annoying the bad word out of me by having his presence saturate every single moment of what should be my alone time, you are getting mad at ME for being mad about it! How much more blunt do I have to be than "Don't screw around while I'm IN THE ROOM and he can't be in here all the time"?? Do I have to have the idiotic boy (BOY) kicked out of the building?! I mean holy freaking crap!
Don't say it. Don't you dare say "Just have a sit down and calmly discuss the issue with them; use lots of 'I messages.'" I tried that. At first I hinted, very subtly. Then I hinted, not so subtly. Then I talked to them separately, and of course, got assurance from both of them that there would no longer be a problem. Then, when there was still a problem, I talked to the together, very calmly. I again, was reassured that there would no longer be a problem. We'll go to his house on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they say (well at least that's SOMETHING, but I can't deal with this crap even three days of the week). There was, of course, still a problem. Then I talked to them separately again, with the same results. Then I started acting like a bitch. I mean telling random, practically strangers (to them at least) about their pitiful excuse of a sex life and how obnoxious they were RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM should have, surely, made them understand that they needed to freaking chill. But did it? OF COURSE NOT!
I'm exasperated. He's mad because I'm not sharing my sodas. Well, first of all, I would have if you had helped me carry them. But no, we walked back from the store and not only had I just paid full price (didn't half it with sissy of course, that would have been a financial burden to little miss I-have-to-pay-no-bills), but I carried them the whole back and it was raining. Is a carton of canned sodas really that heavy? no, it's manageable, but I'm tiny and I have no upper body strength and it would have been nice for someone (who was supposed to a freaking marine, yeah right, pitiful little whiny cockroach) to offer when I was so obviously struggling with the stupid thing. But whatever, don't even LOOK at my carton of soda.
I'm past trying to be mature about it. They're both driving me crazy and she doesn't even care that not only is he a total jackass, she's closely following in his footsteps. Well, if she doesn't care, I sure as heck don't have to. The stupid sister-type relationship can dissolve into the abyss for all I care. Then I don't have to ever invite his stinking tail over for Christmas and that is just FINE with me! I'm to the point that if I could move out, I would. The ONLY reason I haven't just marched my little hiney up to Housing is because I paid just as much for this room as she did (as opposed to the fact that HE paid nothing, therefore this is not his room, therefore he needs to get the bad word out of it) and my stuff and myself has just as much right to be here as she does. So SHE can leave if it comes to that.
I don't think it's too much to ask to have some privacy in your own room that you paid for. I mean I give them PLENTY of time to themselves. Do I ever get ANY alone time with my guy here? No. Do I ever get any alone time period? No. Can I ever actually sleep without hearing his stupid ringtone go off every five minutes all night every night and at 6-8 AM every single morning? No. Does she even bother to close the door quietly when she leaves to go see the creeping mother cusser? No. No she does not. She slams the freaking door every single morning. I don't want maturity anymore. I want vengeance. Petty vengeance. If anyone has any ideas how to drive them crazy without being able to be blamed for it, please share. >:)
I don't care. I know I'm being mean and a bit irrational but I don't care. They are horses' rears.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Dante
We got a puppy!!! WE GOT A PUPPY!!
He's soooo adorable. He's a bloodhound and his name is Dante. He's about two months old. We got him Saturday night and he has been having such a good time. Lover Boy has definitely got a "new puppy owner" side; he will never admit it but I caught him talking puppy talk to Dante last night. He (the puppy) also LOVES to snuggle. I just can't even tell you how much I love this dog! I'll keep you filled in :)
It was also Lover Boy's birthday, so I tried this cupcake recipe with cookie dough inside....well they tasted great, they just looked funny. I have (for your tummy's pleasure) included the recipe at the bottom.
So anyway, we've (I say we, but really it's supposed to be HIS dog....he says he knew better than that all along though) been looking to get a puppy, we just couldn't find one. So we looked in the mule trader (well the three pages he ripped out of one) and saw this ad for a German Shepherd/Chow mix puppy. So we called the people and got in the truck to go get the dog. It was supposed to be a fifteen minute drive. We were in the truck for two hours!! Two hours, looking for this place. Couldn't find a thing. So we went home and I was exceptionally sad and he says "Well when we get home, look again and if you see anything, call. If you find something in town, we'll go get it and if not, we'll try again tomorrow." So I looked and found ONE AD. Long shot right? I called and the woman was (actually) about ten minutes away from the house. So we drove over there and got Dante. The little girl said they couldn't keep any of the puppies but she had just got so attached to him and they had to take any that were left in the next few days to the humane society and she was just so scared about him going that we didn't even look at the other two boys; we had to take him. Of course, I would have picked him anyway :)
He's an outside dog, but we're spoiling him. He's been here two days and already he won't budge if my guy isn't right there with him and he hates being left outside by himself even though he's in a fenced in yard. He's just got to get used to a new place though.
A FEW HOURS AFTER I WROTE THIS:
Ireland (another name I've decided to give to Lover Boy so I don't have to keep typing "Lover Boy" over and over again) has officially decided that Dante is an inside dog. I knew it was going to happen. BAHAHAHAHA!!! XD
Wow. Well either way, I'm thrilled. He's a phenomenal snuggler, as I said. :)
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon sea salt (regular salt won't hurt!)
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup mini semi-sweet chocolate chips
OR
instead of all the above mentioned ingredients, you can buy cookie dough like I did :D
1 (18.25 oz) box cake mix (your favorite flavor of course!)
1 1/3 cups water
1/3 cup canola oil
3 eggs
paper cupcake liners (DO NOT OMIT THESE NO MATTER HOW MUCH PAM YOU HAVE!!)
Directions:
Mix the flour, baking soda and (sea) salt together and set it aside. Beat butter, white sugar and brown sugar in a large bowl until smooth (this would probably work better with an electric mixer). Add 1 egg and the vanilla extract and beat until smooth. Mix in flour mixture "until just incorporated" (I have no idea what THAT means; like I said, I bought cookie dough). Fold in (TONS of) chocolate chips, mixing just enough to evenly combine. Form the dough into tablespoon sized balls; place onto baking sheet and freeze until solid (about two hours). Also, you will want to make a few extra so everyone can eat a frozen ball of cookie dough (raw cookie dough is not generally recommended for infants or pregnant or nursing women) while you wait on the cupcakes to bake! :) And if you don't make your dough, but instead you just buy it like me, just roll it into a ball and freeze!
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (or 175 C; does anybody measure oven temperature with Celsius?) Line muffin cups with paper liners (this is very, VERY important! I don't care how much PAM/butter/other cooking spray/oil you used, they will stick/crumble/fall to pieces and you will have to eat them with a fork straight out of the cupcake pan).
Beat three eggs in a large bowl. Add the cake mix, water and canola oil; continue to beat for two minutes (Here, again, an electric mixer would be helpful if you own one, if not, I just poured the ingredients together and mixed until smooth with a fork). Spoon into cupcake liners, filling each 2/3 full (don't over do this part...it gets...messy) Place a frozen cookie dough ball on the top center of each cupcake.
Bake until a toothpick inserted into the cake potion of the cupcake (NOT the cookie dough part) comes out clean; about 20 minutes. Cool in pans for 20 minutes before removing completely to cool on a wire rack (OR, if you are terribly impatient for that warm cookie dough ball of gooey goodness, put it on a plate and prepare to scoop with a fork!). DO NOT OVER-BAKE. Your cupcake middles will get hard and crumbly and not so good.
Happy cup-cake eating!
He's soooo adorable. He's a bloodhound and his name is Dante. He's about two months old. We got him Saturday night and he has been having such a good time. Lover Boy has definitely got a "new puppy owner" side; he will never admit it but I caught him talking puppy talk to Dante last night. He (the puppy) also LOVES to snuggle. I just can't even tell you how much I love this dog! I'll keep you filled in :)
It was also Lover Boy's birthday, so I tried this cupcake recipe with cookie dough inside....well they tasted great, they just looked funny. I have (for your tummy's pleasure) included the recipe at the bottom.
So anyway, we've (I say we, but really it's supposed to be HIS dog....he says he knew better than that all along though) been looking to get a puppy, we just couldn't find one. So we looked in the mule trader (well the three pages he ripped out of one) and saw this ad for a German Shepherd/Chow mix puppy. So we called the people and got in the truck to go get the dog. It was supposed to be a fifteen minute drive. We were in the truck for two hours!! Two hours, looking for this place. Couldn't find a thing. So we went home and I was exceptionally sad and he says "Well when we get home, look again and if you see anything, call. If you find something in town, we'll go get it and if not, we'll try again tomorrow." So I looked and found ONE AD. Long shot right? I called and the woman was (actually) about ten minutes away from the house. So we drove over there and got Dante. The little girl said they couldn't keep any of the puppies but she had just got so attached to him and they had to take any that were left in the next few days to the humane society and she was just so scared about him going that we didn't even look at the other two boys; we had to take him. Of course, I would have picked him anyway :)
He's an outside dog, but we're spoiling him. He's been here two days and already he won't budge if my guy isn't right there with him and he hates being left outside by himself even though he's in a fenced in yard. He's just got to get used to a new place though.
A FEW HOURS AFTER I WROTE THIS:
Ireland (another name I've decided to give to Lover Boy so I don't have to keep typing "Lover Boy" over and over again) has officially decided that Dante is an inside dog. I knew it was going to happen. BAHAHAHAHA!!! XD
Wow. Well either way, I'm thrilled. He's a phenomenal snuggler, as I said. :)
______________________________
Cookie Dough Filled Cupcakes
You will need:1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon sea salt (regular salt won't hurt!)
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup mini semi-sweet chocolate chips
OR
instead of all the above mentioned ingredients, you can buy cookie dough like I did :D
1 (18.25 oz) box cake mix (your favorite flavor of course!)
1 1/3 cups water
1/3 cup canola oil
3 eggs
paper cupcake liners (DO NOT OMIT THESE NO MATTER HOW MUCH PAM YOU HAVE!!)
Directions:
Mix the flour, baking soda and (sea) salt together and set it aside. Beat butter, white sugar and brown sugar in a large bowl until smooth (this would probably work better with an electric mixer). Add 1 egg and the vanilla extract and beat until smooth. Mix in flour mixture "until just incorporated" (I have no idea what THAT means; like I said, I bought cookie dough). Fold in (TONS of) chocolate chips, mixing just enough to evenly combine. Form the dough into tablespoon sized balls; place onto baking sheet and freeze until solid (about two hours). Also, you will want to make a few extra so everyone can eat a frozen ball of cookie dough (raw cookie dough is not generally recommended for infants or pregnant or nursing women) while you wait on the cupcakes to bake! :) And if you don't make your dough, but instead you just buy it like me, just roll it into a ball and freeze!
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (or 175 C; does anybody measure oven temperature with Celsius?) Line muffin cups with paper liners (this is very, VERY important! I don't care how much PAM/butter/other cooking spray/oil you used, they will stick/crumble/fall to pieces and you will have to eat them with a fork straight out of the cupcake pan).
Beat three eggs in a large bowl. Add the cake mix, water and canola oil; continue to beat for two minutes (Here, again, an electric mixer would be helpful if you own one, if not, I just poured the ingredients together and mixed until smooth with a fork). Spoon into cupcake liners, filling each 2/3 full (don't over do this part...it gets...messy) Place a frozen cookie dough ball on the top center of each cupcake.
Bake until a toothpick inserted into the cake potion of the cupcake (NOT the cookie dough part) comes out clean; about 20 minutes. Cool in pans for 20 minutes before removing completely to cool on a wire rack (OR, if you are terribly impatient for that warm cookie dough ball of gooey goodness, put it on a plate and prepare to scoop with a fork!). DO NOT OVER-BAKE. Your cupcake middles will get hard and crumbly and not so good.
Happy cup-cake eating!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I Started a New Project
First of all, let me be completely..."puppy-like:"
I Love my guy. I Love him. He's so ...imperfect. I am so glad :)
I mean for those of you who say "My 'so-and-so' is perfect; they have no faults; everything about them is wonderful." YOU are either lying or stupid. Maybe stupid is too harsh. Disillusioned at least.
His faults are what make him perfect for me. But you better believe he has them and I don't always like them. Just like I have my own and he SURE doesn't always like them. But I'm glad.
Anyway, my project: I've started writing letters to myself in a journal in case I ever get amnesia. When I started I was thinking about all the things that had happened to me, but then I couldn't really get it all out on paper. I had a hard time because when I put the pen to the page, so much of it was questionable. Did I WANT to remember this if I had a choice? Would not remembering things change who I am? Would I, myself, disintegrate into some other girl who wouldn't be like me, love the things I love or eat the things I eat? What if I left something out. But so much of it just wasn't... there just wasn't a reason to write it down. A fresh new start. But how much of it gets to be new and fresh and how much of it do I owe myself to remember, how would it change things?
So you might think that's silly, but it really makes you think about what's important to you and what makes you...you, as a person. It's something to think about at least. Maybe I'll post the letters someday...
I Love my guy. I Love him. He's so ...imperfect. I am so glad :)
I mean for those of you who say "My 'so-and-so' is perfect; they have no faults; everything about them is wonderful." YOU are either lying or stupid. Maybe stupid is too harsh. Disillusioned at least.
His faults are what make him perfect for me. But you better believe he has them and I don't always like them. Just like I have my own and he SURE doesn't always like them. But I'm glad.
Anyway, my project: I've started writing letters to myself in a journal in case I ever get amnesia. When I started I was thinking about all the things that had happened to me, but then I couldn't really get it all out on paper. I had a hard time because when I put the pen to the page, so much of it was questionable. Did I WANT to remember this if I had a choice? Would not remembering things change who I am? Would I, myself, disintegrate into some other girl who wouldn't be like me, love the things I love or eat the things I eat? What if I left something out. But so much of it just wasn't... there just wasn't a reason to write it down. A fresh new start. But how much of it gets to be new and fresh and how much of it do I owe myself to remember, how would it change things?
So you might think that's silly, but it really makes you think about what's important to you and what makes you...you, as a person. It's something to think about at least. Maybe I'll post the letters someday...
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
We Face Things
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death... |
But on another not, Love Boy came yesterday and it was so nice. It's days like yesterday when I can tell myself he Loves me and actually believe it. Other days, I let him say it. Because it makes him feel better for me to hear it. But...I just tell myself the truth on those days, after I go up to my room alone. But yesterday he came. We drove through the wind and the rain and got soaking wet and he brought me a pink plastic yard flamingo. I know you don't get it, but it's so sweet.
Featherstone: "And I am PINK!" |
But, as the name of the post dictates, there was another reason I had for writing. Lately (amazing since it's been only two weeks) I've been wondering if maybe college just isn't for me. I mean, I love to learn. I love writing papers (yeah, I know...). I like college and I want the career path that I can get only with a degree. But I'm just so... I don't really know. I thought having Bugs here would make things better than they were last year, but... I'm still just so sad and scared and I feel like a failure all the time. It makes me wonder if maybe college just isn't for me. I mean, it's not that I haven't adjusted to life, I mean this is my second year here, I get it by now. I really don't; I really don't know what's wrong with me. It's not the depression. I know that much. I remember the depression and it wasn't this easy. My stomach is ALWAYS in nervous knots, I feel lonely and I just wish he would stay up here with me. I mean let's be honest: we started the counseling to prepare for the things we would face as a married couple; but do you want to know what I really think? Why I think we really decided to stop going? He's not going to marry me. He's not. The way he's acting lately only makes sense if you put it in that context: He is not going to marry me. I don't know what changed. I really don't. It was this all of a sudden thing and it just...changed but the thing is I don't even know what it was that changed.
And yet, even though its becoming more and more obvious to me that he isn't going to marry me, he comes to see me and spend time with me and gets me a pink plastic flamingo. I don't really understand that, but what choice do I have? "You can leave," you say. No. I can't. And I never would. Why would I walk away and leave my soul standing there looking at me? I don't care what anybody thinks in this front: I Love him. And nothing matters in comparison to that. So no, I would never even consider leaving. But I just wish I knew what was going on with him.
But over the last few days, I've seen us (myself, him, Bugs even O.M.G.S.) face some things that people just shouldn't have to. It seems like there should be some way to prevent the unfairness of things that people have to deal with. And don't give me that load of crap about how "Life isn't fair." No. It's not. That doesn't mean you play off the fact with the statement. Saying "Well, life's not fair." doesn't make you a better person for stating the truth to someone who doesn't need it at that moment. An 8 year old kid hasn't eaten in three days and you wanna say "Sorry, kid. Life ain't fair, maybe you'll get something to eat tomorrow." There are some things people just shouldn't have to face, but they do. Every day. Everyone is a hero for that. Hopefully, we all have someone to lean on and get a hug from in those times. I do...
...I will fear no evil, for You are with me. |
Saturday, September 3, 2011
The First Saturday of Many
He didn't come.
Of course, he didn't.
And just like I predicted, I am here. I am sitting in my room. Doing nothing.
I woke up at 9. I waited. At 10 or 11, I texted. I waited. I went from the bed to breakfast to the computer and waited. Finally, somewhere between 12 and 1, ding! You've got mail. Or a text message. Or whatever.
Please let the reader be aware that MY text said "Good morning, for when you actually get up." What I received was not even "good morning;" oh no, it was "something is wrong with my back."
Sounds serious don't it?
Well whats wrong?
I slept on a shoe. I can't come see you because I slept on a shoe and consequentially, my back hurts too much to move so I can't come see you. Because. I slept. On a shoe.
Fabulous.
Now, please understand: I am NOT upset because his back hurts.
I am upset because it is always something. Always something.
Every.
Single.
Day.
My head hurts. My arm hurts. My legs hurt because I am so obsessed with my image that I work out way too much even though I know better and hurt myself. Again. My stomach hurts. My brother's stomach hurts. My dad's head hurts. My mom's arms hurt. My lip hurts. My face hurts. My body hurts. My foot hurts. My ribs hurt because I dropped a box of fries on myself at work, so don't hug me. My eye hurts. My brother's leg hurts. My.....
And you get the point. Actually, you don't. Just like I am sure there is someone in your life who I would never understand what you mean about them until I met them, this is him to you.
Seriously, I have NEVER met ANYONE who was so constantly complaining about SOMETHING. I mean, no, if he's in pain I do not want him to just ignore it or pretend it's not there to appease me, but HOLY FREAKING CRAP; anybody in that much pain that often would be dead already. Or they would go to the doctor. Or they would put a little more effort into getting health insurance and THEN go to the doctor.
Let's be honest: No. I don't believe him all the time. In fact, he complains SO much that if I only believed him 10% of the time, I would still think he was in pain every other day at the LEAST.
And yes, I know I'm complaining.
And I don't. Even. Care.
So since the "surprise" non-visit was announced, I've been killing my brain cells with StumbleUpon, YouTube, Facebook, and Blogger. I HAVE NOT done any of my homework, eaten anything healthy, read the new book I bought or studied. I haven't even left this room because I was PLANNING on taking a shower but I waited to long and now all these stupid MALES are in the building and I don't even want to deal with it. It's not even worth it. It's not like I'm going anywhere or doing anything or seeing anybody anyway right?!?!
I'm wrapped up in a quilt, typing this, about to start stuffing my face with ice cream sandwiches and coffee. The sorority down the west hall is singing. Its not their practicing time and they just KEEP walking up and down this hallway THAT THEY DON'T EVEN LIVE ON, just BUTCHERING good music. Plus I haven't spoken to HER since the whole "your freaking boyfriend saw me without all my clothes on because you SENT him into the room" thing. Which was what? Day before last? Yeah. Which sucks because she is my sister and I love her. But I'm so pissed off at her. I have, however, recovered from my irrational "get a baseball bat, a bar of soap and a garbage bag" anger, but have now moved into the rational "she actually does deserve to be slapped in the face and I never want to look at his face again" anger. Not going anywhere anytime soon. And, intelligently enough, the did not come in here last night. She left and went to his house. Its about freaking time. And AMAZINGLY, she left to go to his house this morning too and said she would be back tonight. Can you imagine how happy I was for the alone time with Lover Boy? Until of course, I found out he wasn't even coming. B. is at work today (which means he isn't even in TOWN) and, what an ironic coincidence, Pookie (that is not her real name but for anonymity's sake....) isn't even in this part of the COUNTRY. Wow.
Leave it to me, the girl who HATES HATES HATES to be alone, to be the one person in town today. Wow.
And to top it all off, I don't even have any paint to paint with....
I'm thinking I'll kill my brain with a few more hours of pointless YouTube videos, let Foamy the Squirrel make me laugh, clean up the room, get a shower and let Cee Lo Green, Avril and Simple Plan talk me into going out and buying some paint in something sexy.
Of course, he didn't.
And just like I predicted, I am here. I am sitting in my room. Doing nothing.
I woke up at 9. I waited. At 10 or 11, I texted. I waited. I went from the bed to breakfast to the computer and waited. Finally, somewhere between 12 and 1, ding! You've got mail. Or a text message. Or whatever.
Please let the reader be aware that MY text said "Good morning, for when you actually get up." What I received was not even "good morning;" oh no, it was "something is wrong with my back."
Sounds serious don't it?
Well whats wrong?
I slept on a shoe. I can't come see you because I slept on a shoe and consequentially, my back hurts too much to move so I can't come see you. Because. I slept. On a shoe.
Fabulous.
Now, please understand: I am NOT upset because his back hurts.
I am upset because it is always something. Always something.
Every.
Single.
Day.
My head hurts. My arm hurts. My legs hurt because I am so obsessed with my image that I work out way too much even though I know better and hurt myself. Again. My stomach hurts. My brother's stomach hurts. My dad's head hurts. My mom's arms hurt. My lip hurts. My face hurts. My body hurts. My foot hurts. My ribs hurt because I dropped a box of fries on myself at work, so don't hug me. My eye hurts. My brother's leg hurts. My.....
And you get the point. Actually, you don't. Just like I am sure there is someone in your life who I would never understand what you mean about them until I met them, this is him to you.
Seriously, I have NEVER met ANYONE who was so constantly complaining about SOMETHING. I mean, no, if he's in pain I do not want him to just ignore it or pretend it's not there to appease me, but HOLY FREAKING CRAP; anybody in that much pain that often would be dead already. Or they would go to the doctor. Or they would put a little more effort into getting health insurance and THEN go to the doctor.
Let's be honest: No. I don't believe him all the time. In fact, he complains SO much that if I only believed him 10% of the time, I would still think he was in pain every other day at the LEAST.
And yes, I know I'm complaining.
And I don't. Even. Care.
So since the "surprise" non-visit was announced, I've been killing my brain cells with StumbleUpon, YouTube, Facebook, and Blogger. I HAVE NOT done any of my homework, eaten anything healthy, read the new book I bought or studied. I haven't even left this room because I was PLANNING on taking a shower but I waited to long and now all these stupid MALES are in the building and I don't even want to deal with it. It's not even worth it. It's not like I'm going anywhere or doing anything or seeing anybody anyway right?!?!
I'm wrapped up in a quilt, typing this, about to start stuffing my face with ice cream sandwiches and coffee. The sorority down the west hall is singing. Its not their practicing time and they just KEEP walking up and down this hallway THAT THEY DON'T EVEN LIVE ON, just BUTCHERING good music. Plus I haven't spoken to HER since the whole "your freaking boyfriend saw me without all my clothes on because you SENT him into the room" thing. Which was what? Day before last? Yeah. Which sucks because she is my sister and I love her. But I'm so pissed off at her. I have, however, recovered from my irrational "get a baseball bat, a bar of soap and a garbage bag" anger, but have now moved into the rational "she actually does deserve to be slapped in the face and I never want to look at his face again" anger. Not going anywhere anytime soon. And, intelligently enough, the did not come in here last night. She left and went to his house. Its about freaking time. And AMAZINGLY, she left to go to his house this morning too and said she would be back tonight. Can you imagine how happy I was for the alone time with Lover Boy? Until of course, I found out he wasn't even coming. B. is at work today (which means he isn't even in TOWN) and, what an ironic coincidence, Pookie (that is not her real name but for anonymity's sake....) isn't even in this part of the COUNTRY. Wow.
Leave it to me, the girl who HATES HATES HATES to be alone, to be the one person in town today. Wow.
And to top it all off, I don't even have any paint to paint with....
I'm thinking I'll kill my brain with a few more hours of pointless YouTube videos, let Foamy the Squirrel make me laugh, clean up the room, get a shower and let Cee Lo Green, Avril and Simple Plan talk me into going out and buying some paint in something sexy.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Physical and Emotional Violations
So first of all, I just want to go ahead and get this off my chest because I am cussing mad. Bugs...no, hereafter she shall no longer be called by the pet name. SHE, she shall be referred to as SHE. She and One Man Geek Squad decided to go to the gym. Yay. I can actually have some alone with with MY boyfriend. Some alone time PERIOD. But no, as soon as Lover Boy gets here, they magically reappear (exercised out apparently from their walk halfway to the gym and back) and do not appear to be leaving anytime soon. So, Lover Boy and I leave just to get a little bit of privacy. We go shopping for a little while, get a bit to eat and come back and by now it's like almost 10PM, anything they wanted to do they should have done already and in all honesty, they should have got the bad word out and went somewhere else to do it because I haven't had my boyfriend in her personal space for a week straight. Anyway, when we get back, he's "sitting on the bed" when we finally get in the door. I'm thinking "1. If you were sitting on the bed, you should have got off your ass and unlocked the door and 2. If you weren't SITTING on the bed, you should have got your ass up because I texted the two of you and said we were coming." And this is the part where it gets so good, I'm bawling my eyes out like an idiot over it: I said "I'm going to change clothes" O.M.G.S. gets up to go in the hallway and SHE goes with him. I'm freaking changing clothes and SHE SENDS HIM IN. SHE SENT HIM INTO OUR ROOM WHILE I WAS UNDRESSING. And what happens?! THE thing I was trying to avoid athe entire time. The thing that made me so uncomfortable with him staying here all the time in the first place. He sees me in my underwear. I am not fully clothed and this idiot male is standing in my doorway WITH THE DOOR WIDE OPEN TO THE WORLD LOOKING AT ME. In case I didn't make this clear: I HATE MEN. I do not trust them. To me, they are all wife beaters, rapists, abusers, serial killers, whatever until proven otherwise and if anything, O.M.G.S. has proven to be someone I DO NOT trust. I would certainly never let him see me without any single article of clothing. My body belongs to ME. Not you, not HER, and not HIM. It is MY BODY. Its MINE. And SHE SENT HIM IN. She sent HIM in! She SENT him in! What the fucking hell was she thinking?! IT'S MY BODY!!! I cannot stress this enough! I have no personal space, hardly any privacy at all and the ONE THING I SPECIFICALLY TOLD HER I WAS UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT WAS THAT! AND SHE SENT HIM IN! Bitch. I'm just dying to get my hands on a baseball bat and a bar of soap (to wash my mouth out). I'm a wreck. I'm mad at them both. For being so careless or stupid or evil, whichever it was. I'm humiliated. I'm violated. I'm mad because I'm humiliated and violated. I'm hurt. I'm mad because I'm hurting. I'm fighting the desire I have to hate them right now.
And some of you are thinking "This is NOT a huge deal." It is to me. You don't know my whole life, just like I don't know yours. You don't downplay what another person is feeling because you never have any idea what they have gone through. If you did, or if you went through it yourself, it's most likely that you would feel and react the exact same way.
Anyway, that's the "I'm really pissed" part of the day. That's the part of the day that I'm trying desperately to get over so I can sleep.
The other part of the day.... well, I started thinking alot today. About truth. What if the God I Love isn't real? What if my whole belief system is not true, but merely a myth? I talked to Lover Boy about this and he had such an honest answer. No one judge him. Because if you truly looked at your motives, they would probably be the same. Even my motive is the same on a certain level. He said he was too afraid to not believe it because if it was true then he'd go to hell. Well, obviously no one wants to go to hell, myself included. But even more than that... if God isn't real... then this "being" that I Love so much doesn't exist. It's almost if someone has died. And he asked me "What if it's just a different god than the one we think?" And I said, honestly, that I would rather spend an eternity in hell than in heaven with a god I didn't know. I Love my Lord. But then I realized how ashamed I was. If God didn't exist, it wouldn't alter my life much. It would hurt my heart but it wouldn't change the way I live. That's not to say I'm so good that if there were no law I'd still be good. That's to say that I'm so bad, I act like there isn't a god even when I say I believe there is one. So how can I say I Love Him so when I do something that hurts him every single day?
But beyond that, even: There are things that simply do not make sense to me. Most Christians will argue with you (to the death) that the world is around 4000 years old. Scientists say the earth is older than that. Those two "truths" can't both be true. So which is true and what does that mean for God? For me?
The rituals God made his people live out in the old testament are so insanely similar to that of the g\Greeks. I mean have you read the Odyssey? It's...scary. It takes away from the Bible in a way. In a way that frightens me. And I went to the bookstore with Lover looking for some answers. Then I realized, no man can ever give me truth. Whatever he believes to be true, he will defend with all his might. He has his own agenda. His agenda isn't to find truth; it's to be right or to persuade me that his truth is true. So I can't trust a single word from man's mouth. So how do I find answers when I can't trust a single source? Even scripture. Who KNOWS that no one messed up? I can certainly see places where I see more of man than God in the written word. But with other scripture as well, the Quran, for example because I know of no other that can be compared with the Bible (not that that really matters, but just for "fair" argument's sake), could be just as wrong with no way to prove it either way. Who can put me in a time machine and show me all these things? How can I find truth when no one can have definite answers?
Don't think I have no faith. I've taken many leaps of faith and even know I trust that faith. I have not lost my faith in God for the sake of what could be a potential discrepancy. But my God is a Big God and He can handle my doubts; shoot, if He isn't even real then it doesn't matter that I doubt right? Or that I question. Question is a better word than doubt. Either way, that's just something that I was pondering today and I'm sure you'll hear lots more of that from me until I finally get at least a satisfying answer.
Did I mention also, how much I Love my boyfriend? I can't even begin to tell.
And some of you are thinking "This is NOT a huge deal." It is to me. You don't know my whole life, just like I don't know yours. You don't downplay what another person is feeling because you never have any idea what they have gone through. If you did, or if you went through it yourself, it's most likely that you would feel and react the exact same way.
Anyway, that's the "I'm really pissed" part of the day. That's the part of the day that I'm trying desperately to get over so I can sleep.
The other part of the day.... well, I started thinking alot today. About truth. What if the God I Love isn't real? What if my whole belief system is not true, but merely a myth? I talked to Lover Boy about this and he had such an honest answer. No one judge him. Because if you truly looked at your motives, they would probably be the same. Even my motive is the same on a certain level. He said he was too afraid to not believe it because if it was true then he'd go to hell. Well, obviously no one wants to go to hell, myself included. But even more than that... if God isn't real... then this "being" that I Love so much doesn't exist. It's almost if someone has died. And he asked me "What if it's just a different god than the one we think?" And I said, honestly, that I would rather spend an eternity in hell than in heaven with a god I didn't know. I Love my Lord. But then I realized how ashamed I was. If God didn't exist, it wouldn't alter my life much. It would hurt my heart but it wouldn't change the way I live. That's not to say I'm so good that if there were no law I'd still be good. That's to say that I'm so bad, I act like there isn't a god even when I say I believe there is one. So how can I say I Love Him so when I do something that hurts him every single day?
But beyond that, even: There are things that simply do not make sense to me. Most Christians will argue with you (to the death) that the world is around 4000 years old. Scientists say the earth is older than that. Those two "truths" can't both be true. So which is true and what does that mean for God? For me?
The rituals God made his people live out in the old testament are so insanely similar to that of the g\Greeks. I mean have you read the Odyssey? It's...scary. It takes away from the Bible in a way. In a way that frightens me. And I went to the bookstore with Lover looking for some answers. Then I realized, no man can ever give me truth. Whatever he believes to be true, he will defend with all his might. He has his own agenda. His agenda isn't to find truth; it's to be right or to persuade me that his truth is true. So I can't trust a single word from man's mouth. So how do I find answers when I can't trust a single source? Even scripture. Who KNOWS that no one messed up? I can certainly see places where I see more of man than God in the written word. But with other scripture as well, the Quran, for example because I know of no other that can be compared with the Bible (not that that really matters, but just for "fair" argument's sake), could be just as wrong with no way to prove it either way. Who can put me in a time machine and show me all these things? How can I find truth when no one can have definite answers?
Don't think I have no faith. I've taken many leaps of faith and even know I trust that faith. I have not lost my faith in God for the sake of what could be a potential discrepancy. But my God is a Big God and He can handle my doubts; shoot, if He isn't even real then it doesn't matter that I doubt right? Or that I question. Question is a better word than doubt. Either way, that's just something that I was pondering today and I'm sure you'll hear lots more of that from me until I finally get at least a satisfying answer.
Did I mention also, how much I Love my boyfriend? I can't even begin to tell.
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