The problem is I’m happy

I have a crazy girl crush on Jillian Michaels.

 

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My roommate and I watched The Biggest Loser religiously when she was on it. We. Loved. Her. She was intense and to the point but then she also had this knack for really connecting emotionally with her clients when they needed it. I am OBSESSED with her.

I heard from another blog I stalk read that she had a weekly podcast and thought I’d check it out. Honestly, I didn’t think it would entertain me. 45 minutes of talking with no pretty pictures or cartoons? What is this, radio? 1920? The dark ages?

Don’t take that personally, Mom. You’re still young at heart.

Qualms aside, I decided to download a few podcasts for my listing pleasure, AKA to survive the two 3-hour art classes I had to take junior year of college. Fartsy I am not.

Turns out, I luuuuuurve this podcast. It did nothing but add to my out-of-control girl crush of Jill. The lady is talented, ridiculously smart in her field, a total hottie, and insanely insightful when it comes to matters of the heart and mind, as well. I know, you don’t expect hugs and kisses from our girl Jill, and while she doesn’t go that far, she is far more emotional than I thought! She knows what’s up.

Anyway, since I started my new job, I have a 20 minute commute every morning which I’ve dedicated to smoothie/coffee drinking (sometimes both if I’m feeling crazy), and listening to The Jillian Michaels Show.

This is such a great way to start my day, I can’t even tell you. There’s a ton of awesome information, but there’s also a glimpse into Jillian’s personal life (she and her partner are the new mom’s of TWO bebe’s within ONE year; yeah I know, as if you needed another reason to bow down), and some hilarious banter between her and the show’s producer, Janice. Janice is Canadian, which immediately makes her hilarious in my book. If there is anything funnier than a funny American, it’s a Canadian. I hope that doesn’t come across as racist because I’m dead serious. I smile every time she pronounces a word with an “o,” and I love her funny little one liners. In the podcast I listened to today (I am severely behind) she said “a kick in your giggle,” which is like when Americans say “a kick in your step.” Except 100x times more hilarious. And then Jillian always goes after her sayings like a jerk, but it’s charming at the same time…

…I think I need to retract my I-have-a-crush-on-Jillian statement and add and-Janice…

Anyway.

Today’s podcast was about something that I think a lot of people struggle with: being happy. That sounds super dumb, right? Like, when you’re happy, that’s awesome. That’s not a problem. It’s pretty rockin’. We work hard, we have setbacks, and then we’re happy and life is perfect.

Except it’s not. Because raise your hand if you work your butt off and everything aligns and life is pretty freaking amazing and suddenly you find yourself cowering a corner, waiting for the sky to fall.

Because we all know that for every good thing to happen to you, a bad thing is coming too. And the more good things, well, the more bad things that are just around the corner.

Right?

NO!

I totally fall into this crap trap. I’ve had a super amazing year.

Spend J-term in Italy eating my way through Rome, Florence and Assisi, while simultaneously losing 3 pounds (seriously, I don’t even know):

Check.

Supa cool guy puts a ring on it:

Checkity check check.

Turn 21 without dying:

 

Yup.

Have adorable doghter:

Graduate Cum Laude from university in 3 years with 2 majors:

Boom.

Open parttime small business so I can do what I love in my spare time:

Boom shaka laka.

Land my dream job before I have a diploma in my hand:

Woop woop.

I’m not oblivious to the fact that my 2012 was pretty bomb. In fact, I’m extremely aware of it. So aware, in fact, that whenever anyone else mentions it, you can find me staring back at them, fingers in my ears, screaming IKNOWIKNOWIKNOWIKNOWIKNOW!!! because I’m afraid the powers that be will hear them and realize I haven’t had a rough patch in a while and RAIN HELL DOWN UPON ME.

Now that’s not a very perky mindset, is it?

I’m an extremely positive person, but I’m human. I think we as humans – as Americans, especially – sometimes think we don’t deserve all the awesome stuff we’ve been handed.

But let’s be real. We haven’t been HANDED anything.

We’ve worked our butts off. Right!? WE HAVE.

No one is entitled to anything. I get that. But you absolutely deserve it if you work for it.

I can honestly say that I’ve worked HARD for all of these good things.

[Except not dying on my 21st birthday. That may have been pure luck and solid friends.]

So is your family happy and healthy? Do you love your job? Is your personal life in a total sweet spot? Chances are that stuff didn’t land in your lap. Chances are you are doing a rockin’ job at life.

Go you.

We’re always handed sucky suck fest crap. It’s life. People die, car engines start smoking when you have $50 to your name, somebody jealous of your awesome life spreads rumors that aren’t true. That crap sucks. And it’s gonna happen cuz that’s life. But chances are it’s not near as bad as you think it will be. (Except cancer and death. That’s always bad and awful and I’ll vote for the first gubernatorial candidate who votes to veto death and kick cancer to the curb.)

And even if something super awful does happen, what good are you doing worrying about it now? You’re wasting all the good crap!

So to recap:

You are awesome.

Your life is awesome.

Your life is awesome cuz you made it awesome.

Go you.

Now, go celebrate your awesomeness. Thank Jillian Michaels.

ROBOTS.

Youguysyouguysyouguysyouguyssssss.

I started my job (!!!!). Finally, right!?

I love it. I love it so much. I feel like I’m jumping the gun saying that being as tomorrow is only Day 5 but I am confident I will continues to love it. Lovelovelove.

I really can’t talk about it more than that because I’m afraid I’ll wet myself with excitement.

I also love my apartment.

Lovelovelove.

It is so cute it makes me sick.

I really thought that it would take a while to adjust to living on my own. I was pretty confident that I would go to bed every night ready for murderers to break down my front door with an axe, but I’ve been a Brave Little Toaster up in herrrrr. No bad guy dreams yet. Although tonight I’m watching Burn Notice so if it’s going to happen, it’ll be tonight.

I said on my Facebook page that my next post was going to talk about robots. I don’t want to disappoint you, but I’m probably going to. I’m not talking about R2D2 or Rosie Jetson, exactly, but something far, far cooler.

Dishwashers.

Yes.

Dishwashers.

I don’t think that people appreciate dishwashers until they don’t have dishwashers. I lived with my parents this summer, and they had a dishwasher, but I spent a lot of time hanging out (read: eating) at Jeff’s. Jeff has no dishwasher. I was all, Glass half full, no dishwasher is fiiiiiiiine, I love washing dishes!!

I LIED.

Dishwashers are the best things ever. Dishwashers make kitchens that look like this:

 

Look like this:

in about 12 seconds.

YOU GUYS.

It is a ROBOT that washes your DISHES.

For you!!

It just washes them while you watch Burn Notice, or edit photos, or WHATEVER .

So then I started thinking about other robots just walking around chilling on Earth. Like Transformers, basically, which I always knew was for real anyway.

Think about cars; robots that drive us places.

Computers; robots that teach us how hard boil an egg and everything else. (Side note: did you know if you start Google’ing, “How to…” boil eggs is one of the first hits? I am probably a contributing factor as I have Googled that topic at least 12 times. Successful egg boil attempts = 3.)

Phones; robots that are basically really advanced can+string communication devices.

Think about that last one though. Think about the first time you and your neighbor/best friend/sibling got your hands on a really sweet can+string phone. Or walkie talkies. Or figured out the vent in one room let you hear almost perfectly what was happening in the room below. How’d it make you feel?

If you’re like me you probably reacted something like this:

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Riiiiiiiight!?

So here is my question: if our 8-year-old selves react like that to two old cans of tomato soup and yarn, why is it that our adult-selves are so much less excited by the completely radical technology we have today?

Eh? Eh?

I am completely guilty. Today when Siri wouldn’t play my Jillian Michael’s podcast and I had to use my FINGER, I was absolutely appalled.

I have to use my FINGER!? And touch this ridiculously sensitive touch screen!? On a device that let’s me call, text, email, tweet and creep on whatever and whoever I want!?

The humanity.

A little perspective for your Thursday night/Friday morning. Go find some soup cans.

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In and Out

One of my favorite things to do is ask really stupid questions on Facebook and make my friends answer them.

Because yes, it may be stupid, but it’s also a valid question. I think.

If doing that has taught me anything, though, it’s that people have opinions on the dumbest funniest things. One time I took a poll about grape jelly vs. strawberry jelly (strawberry FTW!!) to avoid a news writing assignment and you would not believe the claws that came out. Do not offend a man and his jelly. Don’t do it.

To be fair though, I also have opinions on really dumb things. For example, it can ruin my day when somebody goes OUT the IN door of the bathroom at work. WHYY. JUST USE THE CORRECT DOOR. Then when I’m trying to get into the bathroom I’m running into a mom and her three kids, or a group of old ladies and it’s suddenly very awkward. What way do I go? Left? Right? And then we’re doing an awkward little get around dance in the bathroom doorway. Do I say excuse me because REALLY YOU ARE GOING THE WRONG WAY NOT ME.

Anyway, after 16 extremely helpful comments I’m one step closer to having another wedding thing done-zo. We’re not really doing save-the-dates because we’re inviting 12 billion of our closest friends and family members to our wedding, but we thought it would be a good idea to do a little Christmas card that happens to mention our wedding date. Clever, no? Save paper, save the world. Also, money. OK mostly money. We’ll probably just send them to parents/grandparents/siblings/aunts and uncles, and it’s a good excuse to use our engagement photos 🙂 Yeahhhhhh.

Last night/this morning I made this again. It makes my heart so happy. It was the first time all summer I made it, which is really just a shame. Funny story: that post is still one of the most popular posts on my old blog. Crazy huh? I desperately need to transfer it over here because I can’t lose it – it’s AWESOME. It makes my day happy even when people are going out the in doors.

 

 

Condiment Catastrophe: a story of egg salad

I was going to make this for lunch today.

I was going to take pictures.

It was going to be a really pretty photo shoot because you know what is prettier than a hard boiled egg’s bright yellow and a perfectly ripe avocado’s green fleshy goodness?

Nothing.

Maybe this:

*Gratuitous photo of my future nieces. Gorge!

Back to my egg salad.

So last time I tried to make egg salad at Jeff’s house (sometimes I go there for lunch cuz it’s .2 seconds away from work and my parents’ house is wayyy too far away for an hour lunch break [not really, but his house is much closer]) I did EVERYTHING my mom/The Pioneer Woman/Google told me to do and my eggs were not cooked. It was heartbreaking. Do you have any idea how it feels to crave egg salad like crack and get everything all set up and put together and spend 20 minutes boiling two damn eggs and neither of them cook all the way through!? It’s enough to make you sick.

Literally. That’s how you get salmonella.

I didn’t have the salmonella problem this time, thank GOODNESS. I was getting ready to mix everything together and I took the mayo out of the fridge. Back story: unless it’s on a BLT or LIGHT in a salad (pasta, potato, egg) I do not go near mayo. Ewyuckno.

It jiggles.

It freaks me out.

No.

So of course I had not realized that the mayo in the fridge had expired IN DECEMBER and was CURDLING and I bet you anything Jeff had been eating it up until we went on vacation last week. Climb aboard the vomit train…

I was able to find some Miracle Whip that only just expired last week (!!!!) so I squeezed in the teeniest amount just to make the egg stick together, basically, because if I hate anything more than mayo it’s Miracle Whip.

I threw in some mustard and worcestershire sauce (<- KEY!) and tasted my creation and it was surprisingly delicious despite the condiment catastrophe.

But then I ate a spoonful with avocado (my one true love) and I decided that on their own each are glorious, but together notsomuch. I think it was a consistency problem. Too much mush in one place. That being said, maybe when I actually have mayo and not that other crap I will try Ree’s recipe. Who knows.

After all this, my camera died anyway so it didn’t even matter. It’s like I never ate at all. Because after all, if there is no Instagram photo of it, did it really happen??? I ask you.

So now I’ve got a sliced up avocado in the fridge marinating in lime so it won’t go all nast and brown on me, and I’m trying to figure out a way to use it ASAP. (Guacamole is the obvious standby.)

I’ve also got a husband-to-be with a totally clean fridge because the mayo situation freaked me out so I started purging, which really wasn’t a bad idea anyway cuz yesterday Jeff ate a 13-day-old enchilada.

Don’t throw rocks at my dog, MK?

Yesterday I had a photo shoot at 5:30, so I was hauling it after work to grab my camera and props and get there on time.

I keep all my business-y stuff at Jeff’s because it’s super close to work, so it’s a lot easier to grab when I’m in a hurry (in theory; I’m still notoriously late). Now, Rue hangs out in the backyard during the day like a good girl, and when people come over and she isn’t passed out under the trampoline she gets all excited and gets as close as she can to the door to greet you. Yesterday was no different, except when I came outside she wasn’t there anymore.

It’s no secret that this dog has ADD and a rustling leaf could distract her, but usually people take first priority so I thought it was weird that she had left her perch. I went around the corner to see where she went and TO MY HORROR there was a small, probably 4-year-old human in the yard (already weird, as we don’t own any 4-year-old humans) and he was

THROWING ROCKS AT MY DOG.

AT MY DOG, YOU GUYS.

My PUPPY to be exact. WHO DOES THAT!?

Obviously I handled the situation with poise and grace:

“NONONONONONO NO! NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? NO! YOU DO NOT DO THAT! STOP! YOU DO NOT THROW ROCKS AT HER!”

(I could have been mistaken for a Miss America contestant, obviously.)

You know what he did when I suggested screamed he knock it off?

He waved.

He said, Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi.

He just stood there with no understanding of the fact that he had done anything wrong.

WHAT.

This was not the first time said small human has been in a yard that is not his playing with a puppy that is not his. We talked to a few neighbors last night who have told them to stop playing in their yard, as well. And one time I walked in on him balling his bratty little eyes out because my dog had jumped on him and probably scared the crap out of him.

I have no sympathy for you, small human, because THIS IS NOT YOUR YARD OR YOUR DOG!

So yeah, I’m a little angry about the whole situation and this kid is not exactly my new BFF or anything, but I’m a rational enough person to know that it’s not his fault. Let it be known that after all my screaming there was not a parent to be found. Nobody. Not a soul.

OK that’s a lie, there were a few other orphan children in the neighbor’s yard (not their yard, by the way; the neighbor’s yard).

I’m all for instilling independence in your children, but letting them run around the entire neighborhood by themselves? What if Rue had been a vicious, blood thirsty, 4-year-old-human-eating dog? What if she had seriously injured that kid? Obviously we would have felt awful because she is OUR dog, but that would have ruined those parents’ lives. (And we would probably be sued, as screwed up as that is because it’s not like we invited the kid into the yard to play with our fur child.)

I don’t have any children, but I think it’s safe to say 4 is not old enough to be galavanting around a neighborhood on your own. OR if your child happens to be awesome and crazy independent, how about we teach them to not throw rocks at puppies, MMMKKKK? I get that kids will be kids and rocks will be thrown, but if I were to catch any of the kids I know throwing rocks at a dog and react the way I did, they would be in tears. To stand there and look up at me like, Um what I’m just throwing rocks at your furbaby, NBD, shows that somebody failed in the parenting department.

I’m not even sorry that that’s harsh.

Don’t throw rocks at my dog.

Parent your children.

Now go read this to restore your faith in humanity because it obviously just took a serious beating, what with all the rock throwers in the world.