Parenting Advice from a Non-Parent

Rule #1 when I'm a mom will be not to break my kids down. There are enough other people and situations in the world that will do that.

I want my kids to think they're good at everything and, equally importantly, that I think they're good at everything.

I've mostly lost my voice due to this nasty cold and what's left of it would best be described...hmm...imagine that a baritone and a frog had a baby and he loved to sing? Like that.

While butchering Christmas songs this morning (due to my cold, mind you, not my normal, lovely singing voice), I was lamenting to my mom that I wouldn't be able to sing carols this year. I proposed that maybe I could be the Christmas whistler. After a quick audition, she said that perhaps I'd be more suited for the bells or accordion.

Now, this was all in jest, of course.

But why not lift your kids (even if they're adults) right on up? Fill those self-esteem buckets to the brim.For whatever reason, kids still look to their parents for approval, whether they're 2 or 32.

Your kid stinks at baseball. Practice with them in the backyard.

Your ballerina isn't graceful. Applaud after every living room performance.

Your little poet can't rhyme. Hang those poems on the fridge.

Your Christmas whistler can't carry a tune. Let her whistle in your fictional caroling scenario, for crying out loud.

Who ever heard of a Christmas carol accordion player anyway?

BragFest 2k11

Want to know how busy my weekend was? I'll tell ya! This is my Saturday afternoon post. But, wait. It's Monday at noon, you say?

Exactly.

And now we begin the BragFest. Guess what I did Saturday morning! All before 11:30 am! I ran walked mostly ran a 5K. My very first! Exclamation!

That there's my sexy race shirt. Did I actually raise any money for Habitat for Humanity? No. I signed up for the race to try to motivate myself to train. Did I train? No. This isn't the first time I've tried this type of coercion on my laziness , but this is the first I've actually gone through with the race and the end of the failed training attempt.

First 5K: 38:13. Not tooooo shabby with no training, right? Right?

Guess what else I got in my race goody bag?

 A blood blister. Hot.

After the race, I drove my butt home to make some breakfast. I was craving some breakfast sausage, but had none, so I made the most aesthetically displeasing lumps of meat I've ever seen.

Know what? They also didn't taste so good. I need a little more spice in my sausage. (That's what she said) Ah well. allrecipes can't always be right.

You know when they are right? When I need some meat-a-balls and they lead me to heaven, or as the case may be, Meatball Nirvana.

These bad boys...oh lord, you guys...these are delicious. The flavor is spot-on and the texture is light. I made some of Papa Russ's World Famous Marinara Sauce to accompany them, but then realized I had no pasta nor did I even have a roll to throw everything on.

Woe is me. Such is the life of an ill-prepared cook.

I took a nap to cope.

Hope you all had as fulfilling a Saturday as I.

A Couple Questions

Why will Words with Friends not allow me to spell Luda like this?

It's called language, WWF. It evolves. Keep up.

And another thing:

Please explain to me how my bed, which is always right up against the wall, ended up like this sometime in the night.

Please do keep your minds out of the gutter.

Garbage

Not really, though. I just couldn't come up with a clever name for this delicious dish.

I originally named it Swiss Cheese Mashed Potato Brisket Egg, but Dylan gave me his "you're a crazyface" look at that title, so...

Suggestions?

It was damn delicious and kept me full on the drive to Palomar Mountain, through a 4 mile hike, and on the drive back.

Miraculous!

Garlic parmesan mashed potatoes, caramelized onions with chopped slow-cooked brisket, shredded swiss, topped with an over-medium egg. Whole wheat toast on the side.

Ok, Universe. I get it.

I'm meant to be unhealthy and lumpy.

The Universe commands it.

See, I'm on a fitness kick thanks to Candice and fitocracy. I've been, for the first time EVER, working out regularly and actually pushing myself.

The Universe gave me a gentle hint last week when two girls walked into the dinky gym in my complex ahead of me. They proceeded to plop themselves unceremoniously on the last two machines. One of those was supposed to be mine! Do you know what they did then? I'll tell you. They sat there and talked, their legs barely moving. Who are these people? I did some weights in the meantime, realized no one was giving up a machine any time soon, and began a quick walk back home. I consider that quarter mile my cardio for the day.

I brazenly ignored that subtle hint, though, and hiked on both Wednesday and Saturday last week. I do what I want, Universe! I've been a bit sore, but was ready to get back into the game today until the Universe decided to BREAK ME!

I was nesting last night. Like vacuum under the bed, rearrange the furniture, put unwanted clothes in a bag for the thrift store levels of nesting. When I was done, I thought I'd attack the kitchen while I was at it. I opened the dishwasher to throw some dirties in and then, being the multi-tasker that I am decided to start the baked oatmeal I had planned for breakfast. I went to my room to grab the ol' laptop and, as I walked back to the kitchen, I began to search for the recipe. Multi-tasking! Woot!

Let me recap for you.

Holding a laptop.

Searching for a recipe.

Eyes on the screen.

Walking into the kitchen.

Now I'm going to need you to picture this last part in slow motion.

I walk full speed into the open dishwasher door. I manage to hit it with both shins simultaneously. I begin to fly (no joke) over the door. In that instant, my laptop was worth more than my life because I hold it up in the air as I come crashing down to the ground. In that last moment before the collision, I managed to turn so I wouldn't land on my face.

Good news: laptop & face are fine!

Bad news: my ass is broken.

I caught a lot of air as I sailed over the dishwasher door and all that weight came down on my right cheek. I could not sleep on that side last night. I can not sit on it today. It's such a deep injury that there's not even a bruise yet (but, lord, there are some nasties on my shins).

In any case, it didn't work. I'm still doing Miramar Lake's five miles today.

I'm not sure I'm ready for what the Universe has in store for me next. Wish me luck!

My Favorite Veterans

Love you.

Miss you.

Wish I could have known you.

Many thanks and love to all our Veterans today and every day.

Lake Poway Loop

It doesn't matter how close to defeat (death, more accurately. Let's be honest.) I am after the Lake Poway Loop hike. When I come around that last corner to see this

and the cool breeze that comes through begins to ease the heat stroke I've nearly suffered, it all seems worth it.

It is worth it.

Yes, I have sausage fingers from the pooling blood.

Yes, I have released nearly a gallon of sweat, all of which the back of my shirt has collected.

Yes, I have muttered a string of words that would make my mother cringe throughout the loop.

Yes, I am covered in a fine layer of dust.

Yes, my face is bright red & I'm wearing a LoJack hat because that's all my stepdad had & this new haircut has my hair all up in my face otherwise.

Helllooo! (Creepy shadow hand attacking me. Who's got photography skills? I do! I do!)

But, you know what? I accomplished something. I decided to go on this hike, I went alone (thanks a lot, lazy-ass friends!), and I finished.

And I feel damn good.

Lambo

They offered me a loaner at the body shop, but I told them that wouldn't be necessary since I'd be out of town for the weekend.

A Test

As I pulled out of our parking garage today on the way to work, I entered into the typical narrow alley standoff. A car wanted to get into the parking garage and was blocking my path; I couldn't manage a right turn to exit, so I continued to block said vehicle's way in. Dude decided he couldn't take the heat of my intense gaze (?), so he slowly began to back up. He reversed approximately three feet. Now I'm no math whiz, but I'm certain that amount of space had no positive effect on my turn radius or trajectory or whatever terminology math whizzes use in this situation.

So, what did I do?

Did I wait for him to back up more?

Did I honk to gently prod him into backing up more?

Did I honk seven times in quick succession to bully him into backing up more?

No.

I embarked on my exit. As I raised my hand in a hey-thanks-for-backing-up wave to the driver of the other car, my car made sweet love to the corner of the wall I was trying to get by. My right rear wheel well and door are demolished. Not just paint damage, not just a dent. We're talking restructuring of metal. We're talking around $2000 worth of ick. The wall, on the other hand, look like it just returned from a relaxing, tropical vacation.

And, you know, it stinks. It's not the best thing that's ever happened to me, but I'm fine. This is life.

Some days, you're the car and some days you're the wall.

Unrooted.

Guanajuato, Mexico from El Pípila February 2011

Everything is so temporary, she thought, so unrooted, and any one of us can just stand up and leave. She tried to imagine the world, even just one square mile of it, from the point of view of God--the appearances and vanishing, the abandoned objects, doors left open in haste--how it must look over centuries...

The Solace of Leaving Early p. 18

Food as Fuel: Day 1

I had another one of my brilliant ideas last week. Some people say I get on these kicks & then give up on them after three days &, of course, those people are right. Something must be done, though. I haven't been very routine about meals and the past few weeks have been an excruciating cycle of skip breakfast, eat a huge, greasy lunch, feel sick, and eat a pretty healthy dinner. (Points for the semi-healthy dinner, right?)

So, the idea. Well, boredom at work births most of these plans and this time was no different. I spent a good amount of time creating a table in Word to plan out a general daily meal plan, which resulted in the following guidelines:

Morning pick-me-up

Smoothie (spinach, almond milk, frozen blueberries, flax meal, chia seeds)

Breakfast

Oatmeal with dried apricots & peanut butter

or

Egg sandwich on an everything bagel thin

Lunch

Salad with tons of veggies and a protein (I'm working with garbanzo beans and roasted chicken this week)

Afternoon snack

baby carrots with Laughing Cow light swiss
crackers

Dinner

whatever that may be

The idea is to eat every few hours so I don't get too hungry or cranky, both of which usually lead to questionable food decisions.

I'm also hoping that this plan will give me the energy to, you know, actually move around. Maybe squeeze some physical activity in?

For now, I have no idea how many trillions of calories or grams of fat I'll be consuming in these meals nor do I can. This is more a test to determine how I feel when eating regular, smallish meals.

I'm moving my thinking from food as obligation and into food as fuel.

I must not let lingering resentment towards events of the past affect my attitude in the present.

Club di Vino

I had the opportunity, thanks to Groupon, to spend a night out with LBaz at Club di Vino. Club di Vino is a little something that The Merk hosts once a week on Thursdays. It allows guests to enjoy (or in our case inhale) a five course meal which is paired with wines from a local-ish winery.

The first course was risotto fritti with a spicy marinara, served with Viognier.

Our second course was a delightfully rich lobster bisque, paired with a crisp Chardonnay.

Pesto salmon with the only Pinot Noir I've ever enjoyed was served third.

The fourth course was mushroom risotto with the first of two Cabernets.

The fifth and final course served was a tender bit of flat iron steak with chimichurri. The wine pairing was another Cabernet. 

And, woot! We got a bonus course! While finalizing the menu for the evening, our host decided that there may be to much meat present and so replaced this sausage mac & cheese with the mushroom risotto. Unfortunately, the menu listed the sausage mac & cheese so when our group received the risotto in its place, all hell broke loose. Or at the very least there were some mild grumbles. Our attentive server, Kevin, quickly brought a sample of the mac & cheese for all to try. Crisis averted.

Club di Vino provided reasonable portions of delectable treats, while Hansen Cellars provided an endless supply of quality wines. There may be no better way to spend a night out with a lovely lady friend.

What are you going to do with your life?

'Live each day as if it's your last', that was the conventional advice, but really, who had the energy for that? What if it rained or you felt a bit glandy? It just wasn't practical. Better by far to simply try and be good and courageous and bold and to make a difference. Not change the world exactly, but the bit around you. Go out there with your passion and your electric typewriter and work hard at ...something. Change lives through art maybe. Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well. Experience new things. Love and be loved, if you ever get the chance.


If I tried, I could not more wholeheartedly recommend a book. One Day by David Nicholls. Do yourself a favor and begin reading it immediately.

Father's Day

The New Job (Ideally)

Will:

*allow me to be outdoors occasionally

*provide me with a minimum of one capable coworker

*not violently suck my soul from my body the moment I walk in

*challenge me in my brain

*involve little to no micro-managing

*insist that I dress like a grown lady

What Utaught (or What I Learned in Utah)

Utaught? Utah-t? Wordplay comprehensiveness currently escapes me.

I just returned from a glorious vacation in Utah. Most of my time was spent hiking and breathing deeply and generally absorbing nature.

I also learned quite a bit and I'd like to share these lessons with you.

1. One may hand-feed a squirrel Cheez-its, but one may face dire consequences if said squirrel likes the taste of human. I was not bitten. My squirrel was friendly. Yet there are graphic pictures in Zion on shuttles and in newspapers that prove that someone's been bitten at some point. Maybe they just didn't have the proper squirrel feeding technique down.

2. It is illegal to feed squirrels Cheez-its.

3. Some squirrels are cannibals. Or very romantic. I saw a squirrel carrying another lifeless squirrel in its mouth. I believe that squirrel A was taking squirrel B to a private spot so the snacking could begin. Dylan thinks squirrel A happened upon his dead wife's body when he arrived home and was bringing her back to their favorite place so that could be her final resting spot.

4. The Black Eyed Peas' "I Gotta Feeling" is played entirely too much on entirely too many stations.

5. Some stations, bless them, play hour upon hour of Aerosmith.

6. Dylan & I can name all 50 states and a great number of countries in the world.

7. I need to brush up on my cities in Ohio knowledge.

8. I may not be as clumsy as I once was. Yes, I fell 3 times in four days, but that's a new low. Especially considering the physicality of the trip.

8a. Flip flops + steep decline + loose sand = tent stake in the thigh. I was not impaled. I hit the blunt end. No big.

8b. When one climbs up a rock, one must consider the path that will be taken to get back down.

9. It rains it Utah. A lot. Unexpectedly.

10. It takes 875 crumpled Reader pages to start a fire.

11. Carrie Underwood is a terrible role model.

12. When one goes camping, one should bring towels.

12a. The definition of clean is different when camping.

13. People are inconsiderate.

13a. When there is a two foot wide path to walk along on the side of a rock face, you do not force people to pass on the cliff side.

13b. When generous, kind-hearted folks allow you to pass on such paths, you do not STOP TO TAKE A PICTURE. There are people waiting to get by. Was that not clear? (Disregard that I stopped to take a picture, as evidence by the above photo.)

14. Fording a stream is easier with a partner to lean on.

15. Climbing up rocks is easier with a partner to lean on.

16. Climbing down rocks is easier with a partner to lean on.

17. Life is easier with a partner to lean on.

18. I need a new job. Being indoors is suffocating me.

19. There are stacked rocks all up in Utah.

20. Waterfalls are pretty.

21. This particular photographer takes an hour & 42 minutes to take a photo.

22. This log looks like an elephant, but I brought the wrong lens, so I would have had to back up about a mile to get an accurate photo. Just trust me. It looks like an elephant.

22a. My iPhone takes such good pictures I didn't really need to bring the Canon.

23. I do this a lot.

24. I am adventurous.

25. I am strong

26. I am capable.

27. I can't end this list on an even number.

If interested, the rest of the photos from this trip can be found here: https://picasaweb.google.com/dawnmariemedina/Utah5201152311?authkey=Gv1sRgCO_o9MiH3O24OQ#

Health Karma

Friday night, I drank myself stupid. No exaggeration. I had a major hissy fit in a public place.

Saturday night, I had a couple beers. And shots of tequila. And participated in five games of beer pong, so there's that.

I did no physical activity of any kind over the weekend. (Does a hissy fit count?)

Yesterday, to get back on track, I had a beef & green chili chimichanga for breakfast & spicy chicken noodle soup for lunch. It seems I wanted to make sure I didn't hit any important food groups.

Today, I went to the gym before work to meet with my personal trainer. Back on track for realsies this time.

But health karma wasn't having it. Health karma was all, "Your effort's commendable, but it looks like you forgot to pack a bra with your work outfit today. Have fun wearing a sports bra all day!"

Sports bra = zero nipple coverage

I'm sure the 40 guys I work with won't notice.

Right?

...

Right?

Iron Mountain

I made it to the peak of Iron Mountain on Sunday. No big deal. Actually, you know what? It's a huge fricking deal. Susan & I tried twice before and collapsed just after mile one. I finished all three miles &, although I felt as if I were dying several times, I finished.

Go me!

As I sleepily rolled over in bed around three this morning, I informed my manfriend that it's April.

"Happy birthday month, baby" was his response.

This one's a keeper.

Lesson Learned

I thought it would be a good decision to skip coffee yesterday. I put about a gallon of cream in each cup I have & I know that's tons of fat and sugar. Not to mention, amaretto cream is clearly a processed food, of which I'm trying to limit intake. Other options are black coffee, black coffee with sugar, or coffee with milk. I should really do some research on just how terrible milk is for me. I refuse to do the whole skim or 1 % crap here because it just doesn't taste right. To be frank, milk isn't my favorite choice for coffee.

There's just something about a flavored creamer. Italian Sweet Cream, Hazelnut, Amaretto, Irish Cream. Yum!

So. Back on track. No coffee for me yesterday. Which led to:

Breakfast:

fried noodles
everything bagel with cream cheese

Lunch:

rolled tacos with guacamole & cheese
rice
beans

Dinner:

chocolate covered peanut butter pretzels

Not the best choices I've ever made. I felt terrible (emotionally & physically) and was asleep by 6:00 pm.

It may be better to go ahead and have coffee with cream, rather than risk another day like yesterday.

Pavlov

I successfully conditioned myself with a rubber band last week.

Let me tell you, snapping your wrist is an effective way to break a bad habit. For as long as I can remember, I've been a jaw clencher. It's mostly a stress-induced issue. If that weren't bad enough, in recent years, I've developed a jaw-cracking tic. It's bad. It sounds gross, it's painful, and I'm sure it's all levels of bad for me to be doing. Enter the rubber band. Every time I cracked my jaw, I got an immediate wrist snap. The first day, the multitude of welts were so deeply red, they almost looked like cuts. The second day, I had some visible lines, but nothing that would cause anyone to direct me to a suicide counselor. By day three, the habit was kicked.

I'm now going to use this particular brand of torture to beat a bad trait out of me, which may be slightly more difficult than making a bad habit disappear.

I am a bitch. Them's just the facts. Most folks who incur my wrath deserve it. They bring it on themselves and have to deal with the consequences of, well, me being in a bad mood.

There's one exception.

The people I work with get all bitch all the time. And that's not fair. At the risk of sounding like an ingrate, I despise my job. I'm not sure that's accurate...I despise my day at work. I enjoy all aspects of my actual work, but when you throw in the babysitting, editing, and interrupting that I deal with on a half-hourly basis, frustration starts setting in. Frustration leads to anger and anger leads to hopelessness. That's when the bad starts, really. Not when I'm mad, but when I've given up. The Land of No Hope is where I live. The Land of No Hope is where I become Mean Dawn.

Mean For No Reason Dawn.

"Is this paper for us?"

"Uh, yeah! That's why I put it there!"

The people I work with are, on the whole, not very good at their jobs, due to lack of caring, ignorance, or laziness. But that shouldn't mean they have to pay for it by dealing with me. When they do their jobs poorly, and I'm left correcting their mistakes, they're not sending a message to me. This is not an I hate you, Dawn thing. Yet when I talk to people the way I tend to, I'm personally attacking. I'm mad and I think someone should pay.

I need to quit it. No one should have to deal with my attitude. Which brings us back to the rubber band.

Let's see how conditioning goes when we're trying not to break a habit, but to break an split-second response to years of irritation.

Wish me luck.

Questionable Decisions I Made During Last Night's Date

Telling him that even numbers are skeevy and that the volume always needs to be on an odd number, even if 24 or 26 sound better.

Explaining that I am conditioning myself to stop cracking my jaw by snapping the rubber band on my wrist every time I do it. That's why all those red marks are there.

Sharing that my iPhone is having difficulty with directions right now because it is stuck in the state of Texas. I used it to figure out how far it is from Dallas to Dillon, which, it turns out, is a fictional town. Why was I searching for this information? To see how long the bus ride would be for the Panthers on their way to the state championship.

Giving him an impromptu cooking lesson in creating the perfect over easy egg. Yes, I actually cooked an egg. On a date. A person should know how to cook an egg, right?

Remind me again why I'm single.

Good God damn, I must be looking fiiiiiine today.

A customer (another old dude) asked how long I'd been working here and I told him for about 13 years, with a brief stint in teaching for two years.

"Shoot. When I was in school, I never had any good looking teachers. I grew up in the wrong generation!"

For realsies, I think if I hit Barona tonight, I could score a marriage proposal. Bring it, old men!

Flattery

"I don't know if Hyundai makes the best cars, but they sure do hire the best looking people."

-the 88 year old man I went out of my way to help

Why can't everyone be so nice?

and

Hyundai should probably make that slogan into a commercial. Although, it doesn't really sell the vehicles, does it?

When your job makes you physically ill from all the stress and frustration it piles on you daily, it may be time to find a new career.

I find myself slumping up the stairs in the morning, dreading the day to come.

I find life & positivity being sucked from me.

I find that I'm busting my ass, while nearly everyone else slides by because they know someone else will fix what they've done wrong.

I contemplate doing the same, but realize I can't or I won't because I know who will end up picking up the slack for my laziness.

I wonder how it is these people get by in their personal lives. Do they get by? Or is someone enabling them there, too?

I wonder why these people aren't fighting harder for their jobs, by at least striving for mediocrity, when the current economic climate makes it so difficult to find a replacement job.

I wonder why I'm still here. On a daily basis, I wonder.

I am comfortable in the lifestyle my income allows. I'm afraid to live in my car (or worse, back at home with the folks). I am terrified to make a decision about what I'd rather be doing. I'm afraid it will be the wrong decision again.

I need a plan. I need an exit strategy. I need a change.

It's a Wonderful Life, Grampa!

I'm around 852 years behind on my Google Reader feed (especially Jezebel because they post a 8,729 times a day), so I'm just now reading what was posted around Christmas.

They posted a little something called What Your Favorite Christmas Movie Says About You and I am not the least bit offended by the results.

It's a Wonderful Life

What It's About: Seriously? You don't know? OK, so this guy George wishes he'd never been born because everyone's broke and hates him so an angel named Clarence shows him how miserable the world would be if had never existed. So life is affirmed in the end, etc.
Who Loves It: Grampa. You should leave him alone right now because he's napping, no he's not dead, sheesh, old people just need to sleep more than younger people. It's OK, you don't need to wake him up, he's seen this movie a million times. He loves this movie. He used to say "Way to go, Clarence!" every time he made wind. Your grampa's a funny guy. Now leave him alone.

Yeah, I'd say that's a pretty accurate description of me.

Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery
San Diego, CA
12/26/10

I'll Put Some Air in Your Mattress *wink*

I should probably change the name of the blog to "Text Conversations I've Had Recently". The theme will change soon. Promise.

Just had to share this gem from Zoo-Pants.

No man will ever be able to compete with the passionate gestures that my friends offer.

Shame, really.

Texts w/a Side of Wine: RMCM

Since I'm fixin' to lose it at work today, I decided to transcribe snippets from a few wholly amusing text conversations from last night. Permission has been acquired from the participants. Any offensive material has been edited to protect the innocent and the minds of young children.

***
RMCM: How goes the [archery]?

DPants: It was over quickly, praise Jeezy. He didn't murder me & that's a bonus. [ISF] is visiting tmrw night!!

R: Bummer. I always think [archery] followed by death is hot. [M] & I like to play "praying mantis" in the bedroom.

D: You crack me up. He did get a little into hand on the throat tonight, which worried me for half a sec.

R: I shall call tomorrow man "I.S.F."

D: Yes!! To his face too?

R: [M] does the choking thing to me when he's had a few too many.

R: Totally, but first I have to think of a more appropriate phrase to pretend the acronym actually refers to.

D: Igloo Survey Fiend. Naturally.

R: How about "incredibly sexy fellow"?

D: Or that.

D: Insatiable Swan Fancier.

R: Ingenious satan fan.

D: Ooh! Instinctive snowcone fondler. That makes no sense.

R: Irridescent snowman finder.

R: Icky semen face!

D: And we have a winner! No! The snowman one!!

R: So "icky semen face" didn't stick? Bwahahaha

***

R: [M] did the mood app today and his was "trashy"

D: Accurate, I'd say. Have you seen how he dresses?

R: I know! I'm always like "Dude, it's not 1993. Grunge is dead" but he never listens.

D: I'm mostly concerned about his fishnets & short skirts.

R: I worry about the chain mail attached to his nipple rings.

D: What are the odds that we both said "chain mail" today? Small, but it happened!

Texts w/a Side of Wine: K-Dawg

Since I'm fixin' to lose it at work today, I decided to transcribe snippets from a few wholly amusing text conversations from last night. Permission has been acquired from the participants. Any offensive material has been edited to protect the innocent and the minds of young children.

***

K-dawg: Sitting in my jammies, eating edamame and watching Avalon High. I'm such a baller.

DPants: Holy. Crap. LFO came on 2 seconds before I got your text!

K: Perhaps inspired by my actions which are both lyte & funky?

K: I love me some crap movies but I just can't justify this one. Don't get me wrong-I'm still watching.

D: But you'll never guess who King Arthur is!

K: All signs currently point to Will but I'm gonna go with the creepy teacher.

D: Creepy teacher was on something else. I can't figure out what it was.

K: Let me imdb him on my fancy phone...Beepity boop.

K: Marco/Mordred is kinda hot...Mmmmm medieval bad boys.

K: Gasp! Creepy teacher is Mordred??? Moore...Mordred. Oh duh. Bamboozled by a Disney movie. Again.

K: Double gasp! King Arthurs can't be GIRLS!!!

***

K: Hey there mind. Consider yourself a lucky guy cuz you just got blown! epic tshirt right there.


***

D: Um. A bus just rolled into a lake on Camp Rock 2: Lame Rock.

K: I'm telling you...it's no Camp Rock 1.

D: Wait! Big dance number! It may be ok after all.

K: It really would be much better if Lovato fell and broke her leg.

D: :( It would be more promising with a little Selena, though.

D: I wish people applauded when I was reunited w/my summer boyfriend.

K: You are speaking of Marley I assume?

D: He's my full time lovah! Not my summer boyfriend.

Single Woman Facts

I'm stealing from my own Tumblr here. There are some things I want to move over in an effort to keep everything tidy in one place.

I was told the other day that one of the worst things you can say to a single woman (for the record, I find it extremely insulting that people feel the need to share random “single woman facts” with a single woman) is that she’s too pretty to have not yet found a man.

This was followed up with a, “You just haven’t found the right one yet.”

Ok. First of all, I didn’t start this conversation and I need no validation for my choices.

Secondly, and most importantly, if I still have certain doubts about being in a relationship:

1) Is he going to be sleeping in my bed every night?

2) Do I have to share my almond butter?

3) Will he be adding his books to my bookcase?

Then I don’t need to be pursuing a relationship with anyone.

It doesn’t matter how pretty I am, or how funny, or how intelligent. If I’m not willing to share my space, I think it logically follows that I won’t be able to share my life.