Some people wait a lifetime...

Halloweentime is almost over and it's finally sinking in that, once again, I hardly took advantage of it. I mean, I watched a couple of horror movies but nowhere NEAR the number I wanted to. For those interested, I watched: Cabin in the Woods, Village of the Damned, and Slither. THREE MOVIES. THAT'S IT? Who am I?

I feel like this always happens around holidays, especially Halloween and Christmas. I really MEAN to celebrate them but I never feel like I celebrated them as well as I could have. And WHO CARES. No one. No one cares that I forgot to listen to Christmas carols until the day before Christmas or that I didn't carve a pumpkin or that I didn't dress up AT ALL.

OK, I care about that last one. Luckily, even though I was sick for the Halloween party we were invited to, I was able to dress up for work today. Sure, I'm dressed in a costume I've worn twice before but it's the best costume I've ever worn so I feel no shame. Why shouldn't I get as much mileage out of it as possible?

Anyway, so that's why I'm dressed as Velma today. AT WORK. This is my favorite costume ever and I'll tell you why:

1. I can utilize the glasses I already wear as part of my costume.
2. I already have similar hair to Velma, so I don't have to wear a wig or really do anything different to it.
3. The costume is basically regular clothes, so I'm pretty comfortable.

All of these reasons revolve around my ever-present laziness. I'm too lazy to put in contacts in the morning, I'm too lazy to do anything crazy to my hair, and I'm too lazy to really MAKE a costume, so I just wear normal clothes. This is my idea of a perfect Halloween! Which is why, in the past, I've dressed up as the following:

1. Kelly Clarkson (this mostly consisted of me walking around all night screaming, "FOR A MOMENT LIKE THIS!")
2. Lucy van Pelt
3. Adam Sandler
4. Um, that's all I remember.

I feel like my costumes were more elaborate when I was a child. One year, my mom made me this awesome playing card costume. I think I was the Ace of Spades or something. I don't remember. But it was so great! Only I couldn't sit down all night, so that was kind of a problem only not really because who ever sits down when they're a kid? Especially when they're trick-or-treating?

Speaking of, can we institute some kind of adult trick-or-treating? Like, I don't have kids, but I still want free candy, so can I take Max out trick-or-treating or something? I mean, HE ALREADY HAS A COSTUME.

Wiener on wiener action

I'm not a gamer, I just play a lot

I'm absolutely terrible at most video games, unless all you have to do is pretend to play fake instruments or answer multiple choice questions. I get really excited about new video games when I get them, but the excitement usually wears off after I play a couple of times and realize I'm not getting any better so then I quit.

[INSERT STORY-OF-MY-LIFE EXAMPLE HERE]

I've only ever made it to the end of one video game. I was in middle school, on summer break, and we'd just gotten a Super Nintendo. I liked playing Super Mario Brothers, but only the level where you find Yoshi, which wasn't even really a level because you couldn't die in that world, all you could do was make friends with a weirdo dinosaur I MEAN WHY WOULDN'T THAT BE MY FAVORITE WORLD YOU GUYS COME ON.

So I'd play Super Mario Brothers for a while, until I died in the ghost world fifty times and got frustrated enough to throw the controller at the TV. Then my parents bought Zelda. AND I WAS OBSESSED.

I loved everything about Zelda. The music. The teeny, tiny people with their teeny, tiny legs and teeny, tiny weapons. Yeah, those soldiers were trying to kill me BUT LOOK HOW ADORABLE. I mean, until like four of them were coming after me at once and then it was all, "shitshitshit run away to the next screen are they gone, oh god, no, now some weirdo squid thing is shooting fireballs at me wtf wtf oh god, Link, RUN FUCKING FASTER," because apparently I had a filthy mouth even as a 12-year-old.

My dad was playing the game, too, which means most evenings would find him sitting in front of the TV on the floor LIKE A CHILD while my sister and I sat on the couch behind him. I'm not sure why my sister was sitting there, but I was studying. See, Dad was way farther in the game than I was, so I'd watch him play so I'd know what to do once I finally got to that point.

Dad was at work the first time I came across the first boss. I tried to beat it on my own, but after I got killed by the stomping bull things a couple of times, I called him. We were NOT supposed to call my dad at work. It was usually fine to call Mom (unless you were calling to tell her that you found a dog wandering around the neighborhood so you put him in the garage and named him Fluffy, OK BYE) but Dad did not have time for that shit. So when I called him about Zelda, I thought for sure he'd sigh heavily and hang up on me.

But no! He told me how to beat it! And it worked! Even though I had to try it several more times and every time I'd get super nervous, all sweaty palms and racing heart, just like I used to whenever we had timed multiplication tests in school but like WHAT WAS UP WITH THOSE? Those were way worse than any of the monsters inside of Zelda.



(This video is crazeballs to me, because WHY AREN'T YOU USING THE ARROWS, GUY?)

Anyway, so I kept playing and every time I had a question, I'd call Dad and he'd walk me through it, no matter how busy he was at work except for those times when I'd ask a question and he'd be all, "...I'm in a meeting, can you call back in half an hour?" and I'd be all, "NO I'M ABOUT TO DIE FOR REAL DAD!" True story.

[INSERT TOUCHING REALIZATION ABOUT DAD TEACHING ME ABOUT LIFE AND NOT JUST VIDEO GAMES HERE]

But, OK, just because I beat Zelda eventually does NOT mean I wasn't a total wuss monster while doing it. If I got too stressed out in any of the castles, I'd go back to the village, where it was nice and quiet and the music was really soothing.



Also, no one there would try to kill you unless you chopped down a bush and a soldier came out. Or worse, A BEE.

[INSERT BEES ARE SCARY AND EVIL STORY HERE] 

(Unnecessary. Everyone already knows bees are scary and evil.)

I'm Janet Snakehole!

Joe and I didn't dress up for Halloween this year, so naturally, we're already planning our costumes for next year. We were supposed to go to a Halloween party this past Saturday, but ended up staying home because I got sick just in time for the weekend. THANKS, BODY. I'm kind of bummed we didn't get to go, even though we didn't have our costumes ready as of Friday. I mean, we could have thrown something together. We had lots of ideas. The theme was "dress as a literary character, high or low brow." My favorite idea was to have Joe wear a nametag that said "God" and for me to dress up as Margaret and carry around a box of tampons. Oh well. I guess there's always next year.

That's not to say it was a terrible weekend. Sure, I was sick, but it gave me an excuse to sit around and watch TV or read, which are my favorite pastimes anyway. And we managed to see Argo, which is why I ended up having popcorn and M&Ms for dinner that night. Which is totally what you want to be eating when you're sick and your body needs, like, vitamins and nutrients and junk.

We went out to dinner with Joe's parents last night and had every intention to relax as soon as we got home, but Phoebe had other plans because, as we were changing into our pajamas, she took a dump right in the middle of our bed. We watched, dumb-founded, before I found the clarity of mind to shoo her out of the room. I was pissed and then I looked at her litter box, which was perhaps a bit too dirty for her dainty sensibilities, so I'm assigning blame to both of us.

WOW, so I'm not making it sound like my weekend was all that great, but it was fine. Good, even. It would have been better if I'd not had to skip fun things because of sickness but WE CAN'T HAVE EVERYTHING NOW CAN WE. It was probably good to have a relaxing weekend at home this weekend because NEXT weekend is Heidi's wedding. You remember Heidi, right? My old roommate, of the many shenanigans? SHE'S GETTING MARRIED. Whoo! As matron (ugh, that word) of honor, I'm responsible for giving a speech, something I've been freaking out about ever since I started writing it because A) it involves speaking in front of people and B) it involves FEELINGS and you know how I feel about public displays of those. But since it's for Heidi, I'll make that sacrifice, even thought it means I'll probably end up crying in front of people and then they'll know I'm not a robot and THEN they won't respect me anymore. JUST KIDDING. No one respects me.

Anyway, my sister's only advice for my speech was, "don't make it too long, OK?" which I guess is helpful. If anyone else has any advice, I'm all ears. I'm really regretting the fact that I completely tune out during the speeches at most weddings, not because I don't care or anything, but because I'm easily distracted and -- OOOH A PUPPY.

HELLO

GAVE ME COOKIE, GOT YOU COOKIE

Apparently my bragging about writing all the words and being super productive pissed off The Universe because now I'm sick and it's making me want to do absolutely NOTHING including write stuff because using my brain is hard. I'm not like, SICK SICK, like I could stay home from work for three days, but sick like...I just don't feel right? And all I want to do is lie down wherever I am and take a nap. Although, I think I did have a fever at work yesterday. Joe and I exchanged emails that went something like this:

Joe: How are you feeling?
Me: I feel OK, I think, only I'm pretty sure I either had a fever earlier or I was having hot flashes.
Joe: GO HOME.

What sucks is that while I was having fevered hot flashes, I was leading a new hire orientation which is a really good way to welcome new employees to the company. WELCOME TO OUR BEAUTIFUL FACILITY HERE HAVE SOME OF MY DISGUSTING SNOT GERMS.

I came home from work early yesterday and immediately took a nap, then Joe came home and I used that time to flop around, groaning dramatically about how I was siiiiiiiiiiiiick. I'm just a delight to be around when I don't feel good.

I asked Joe what I should blog about for today and his REALLY HELPFUL suggestion was: "TV...about...how awesome it is."

So here is my post about TV. And how awesome it is.

Current TV I'm watching!

The New Girl   Man, I cannot believe how much this show has grown on me. When it started, I couldn't decide whether I liked it or not but NOW I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Schmidt, obviously, is the greatest character to have ever existed. At least on FOX. (Except for Mulder and Scully.)

How I Met Your Mother   This show is like how Friends was, toward the end when you didn't even know if you WANTED Ross and Rachel to end up together because OMG YOU GUYS STOP BEING SO ANNOYING. Like, the show just wasn't as great as it once had been but I couldn't stop watching because of LOYALTY. I'll watch HIMYM no matter how bad it gets, but I hope this is the last season. (It is, right? Did I hear that? Ashley?)

Dexter   MAN. This show is so much better than it was last season. SO SO MUCH BETTER. We watch this one with some friends and it used to be I only looked forward to those nights because we got to hang out with fun people, but now I'm actually excited to see the show.

The Walking Dead   This one has also been a lot better this season than last season. I stopped reading the comics around the time period the show has stumbled into and I really hope the reason I stopped reading doesn't happen on the show. I won't say what it was BUT I HATED IT. Though I was already hating the characterization of the women in the comic, as well as the terrible dialogue, so I didn't really need much of a reason to stop reading. ANYWAY. The show? So much more exciting than it was last year.

The Office   We actually missed an episode this season, which would have been sacrilege a few seasons ago, but the episodes we've seen have been...OK. Maybe I should stop comparing it to what the show USED to be and enjoy it for what it is now, but it's really hard. THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.

Parks & Rec  This show, man. It's like hugging a puppy. (ESPECIALLY LAST NIGHT'S EPISODE OMG OMG ALL THE WARM FUZZIES ARE BELONG TO US!)

30 Rock  30 ROCK IS GOOD AGAIN I'M SO EXCITED.

Revenge  I almost forgot that I was still watching this. I think that says pretty much all you need to know about that. 

Community   :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

Old TV I'm watching THANK YOU NETFLIX!

Doctor Who   I'm pretty much always watching this. An episode here, an episode there, though I'd really like to do a full rewatch. The other day I watched Doomsday just because I felt like crying. THAT IS NOT NORMAL.

Freaks & Geeks   I came home from work the other day, starting to not feel well, and put this on as comfort food.

Buffy   I just started season 6. SEASON 6 IS SO DEPRESSING.

ALIAS   We're rewatching all of this. I haven't seen it in years, probably since it went off the air, so I've forgotten most of it. It holds up surprisingly well, mostly because of Michael Vartan's beautiful, beautiful face. My favorite part about watching this has been seeing hints of future JJ Abrams shows to come.

What TV should I be watching that I'm not? I WANT TO WATCH ALL OF THE TV ALL OF THE TIME. 

welcome to the new times, just like the old times

Internet, I would like to tell you about the perfectly lovely weekend I had, um, last weekend. Why am I talking about my weekend on Thursday, you might ask? Well. I’ll tell you.

I signed up for an online writing class a while ago, and it started last week, and the main objective of this class is to get you to write every day. There are assignments JUST LIKE IN SCHOOL, so basically all of my Hermione Granger qualities have come out in full force, which means not only do I want to write the assignments but I want to write MORE than the assignments because writing more means I WIN AT WRITING. Or something. It’s a contest, right? No? Oh. 



Anyway, so I don’t know if you noticed but I’m trying to post something to my blog every day. By the time of this posting, that makes four days in a row! Which is like more days in a row than I’ve posted in a million years probably, so I guess this class is working. Once I finish my daily assignment for my writing class, then I work on a post for this blog or a book review for CBR4 (HAHAHA JUST KIDDING I’M SO BEHIND), which means I’m usually ahead of the game. I edit (can you even believe this shit has been revised, because it has) one entry a night and schedule it to post the next morning, then I start a new entry. It’s like a system! I love systems!

Anyway anyway, this past weekend was great! Almost as great as that segue! It couldn’t have worked out any better if I’d planned it and believe you me, I’ve tried to plan that kind of relaxation before and it doesn’t work at all! Just FYI.

We went out to breakfast on Saturday and, as we were sitting at our table, drinking some coffee and staring at people out the window, Joe saw some of our friends standing outside. They were about to have to wait a million hours for a table but Joe and I said NO. You will NOT do that! You will sit with us! And thus it happened, as was foretold in the ancient prophecy of breakfasts or whatever.

Joe has been working at the comic book store on Saturdays, which usually means I have Saturday afternoons all to myself for thrifting or watching Buffy or whatever the hell it is I do with my time that makes it fly by until I realize I haven’t showered yet and it’s almost 5 which is when Joe gets home and I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING PRODUCTIVE AT ALL. Ahem. But this past Saturday, I went hiking! I already told you about that, though! This post has so many exclamation points! I love it!

Joe and I had talked about going to the movies Saturday night because, well, that’s what we do, but instead I talked him into renting movies (Moonrise Kingdom!) and ALSO renting Just Dance 4 JUST so I could do the dance to Call Me Maybe. So we drank and watched movies and played Wii and it was the PERFECT SATURDAY NIGHT for people who don’t like to NOT wear pajamas at all times and isn’t that all people? Yes, probably.

I don’t even know how we ended up killing most of Sunday because the only thing I remember doing is going to see Sleepwalk With Me. Have you seen it? It’s so good. I’ve listened to Mike Birbiglia’s comedy special of the same name AND read the book (also same name GO FIGURE) and I still enjoyed the movie. I could listen to Mike Birbiglia talk about...I don’t know, clipping his toenails, and I would still be enthralled. It’s something about his voice. I don’t even know. Wow, good story.

I think I’ll use this last paragraph of this completely thought out and totally planned post for a PSA and that is! do not, under any circumstances consume the following right before you go to bed: chili, beer, Reese Cup cupcake, Dexter, The Walking Dead. You’ll thank me later, after you don’t do that and you have an uninterrupted-by-zombie-killer-nightmare night of sleep.

fall back

Lately, the weather has been really beautiful. Fall is here in full force and, though there have been some cold, blustery days, most of them have been pretty mild, sunny and breezy, and the leaves on the trees have started changing but haven't completely fallen, meaning the trees don't yet look like skeleton arms which is awesome because skeleton arms are freaky.

Joe and I usually go out to breakfast on Saturday mornings, ever since we started eating better, because Saturday is our cheat day which means PANCAKES AND BACON AND BREEEAAAAAD. This past Saturday, after filling myself with crepes, I decided that the scary movie marathon I'd planned could wait and, instead, I drove to one of the area MetroParks. I'd never been to this one before, which is odd, because I have a habit of DRIVING to parks to walk or run. I know it makes no sense but, you know, you have to seek out serenity where you can and it's not often found in the suburbs. Therefore -- MetroParks.

I only meant to stay for 30 minutes or so, long enough to take a quick walk around, but I ended up hiking for about an hour and a half because it was JUST SO BEAUTIFUL. That and no one else was really around. Except for the guy I stumbled across who was peeing on the side of the trail but he scampered away pretty quickly. Sorry, guy. Keep it in your pants next time.

I saw lots of squirrels and birds but no deer, which is what I was really hoping for, and yeah, that's just greedy, really, because of all the deer that wander up and down our street and, pretty much any given evening, I can walk a few houses down and see at least three deer eating whatever deer eat (APPLES!) out of our neighbor's yard.

Before I'd left home, I'd considered taking my iPod with me but I'm so glad I didn't. I'm guilty of drowning out my own thoughts often enough, so it was nice to actually hear myself think. My mind wandered, and I realized that the Making Strides Breast Cancer Walk had been that morning, the same walk my family participated in two years ago, just a day after my grandma died. And I realized with a start that it'd been two years since Grandma died, two years last Monday, and it hadn't even crossed my mind. I know as well as anyone that it's a perfectly natural part of the grieving process to forget these things. Life goes on, I know. But I couldn't stop that pang of guilt (Lutheran upbringing strikes again!) and I thanked my lucky stars that no one was around to witness me turn my face to the sky as I walked, say, "sorry Grandma," and then trip over a root on the trail, barely catching myself before I face-planted.

oh, deer (YEAH I WENT THERE)

I'm sure it will surprise no one that Joe and I don't really know any of our neighbors. We've waved at some of them and I introduced myself to our neighbor on one side once but I've since forgotten her name. HOWEVER. I'm fairly certain that when she picks up sticks and twigs and junk from her yard, she throws them over our fence, into the overgrown bit of ivy that we will never ever be rid of, making it look even shittier than it normally does. I can't prove it because I've never seen her do it BUT I HAVE MY SUSPICIONS. Oh yes. And if you'd told me 15 years ago that this is something I would be angry about, I would have...I don't know, called you a liar? Cried? Both?

Anyway. We met a new neighbor the other night. Joe and I try to take a nightly walk after work, at least on nights we're both home right after, and lately there've been some deer roaming the neighborhood. The other night was no exception. There was a deer hanging out in our neighbor's front yard, but something BRAND NEW was happening. Another neighbor, a tall, lanky, middle-aged guy I'd seen a few times before, always wearing the same sweatshirt, workout pants, and baseball cap, was throwing something at the deer.

"What the hell? WHY IS HE DOING THAT?" I shouted.

"Cause he's a dick?" Joe answered.

We walked toward the scene as the guy hurled something else at the deer. As we got closer, the guy held out an apple and asked if we wanted one.

"Um, no, I'm not hungry," I said. The guy explained that deer love apples and I realized with relief that he had been FEEDING the deer, not trying to hurt it. Which was great because I'd briefly considered setting some dog poop on fire on his porch but didn't really want to put that much effort into my revenge plan (yeah, I realize that's not that much effort BUT IT'S STILL EFFORT, OK).

The guy, who introduced himself to us as Scotty, then proceeded to tell us about how deer love apples and he feeds them all the time and sometimes they follow him to Domino's NO NOT DOMINO'S SUBWAY THEY FOLLOW HIM TO SUBWAY and did we see the little path through the brush there because he put that there so the deer could come through that was his idea he did that for the deer so it was easier for them to get to his house that's his house right there, well, really it's his dad's house but the deed has his name on it and he used to be a professional golfer but now just rakes leaves all day can you believe how many leaves there are he just raked leaves yesterday and now he has to rake them again today but he saw the deer so he ran inside to get some apples and feed the deer because did you know deer like apples?

YOU GUYS SCOTTY JUST KEPT TALKING. Joe and I tried to walk away a few times, but he just wouldn't stop! Joe started to walk faster, whisper-shouting, "DON'T LOOK BACK DON'T LOOK BACK." AND YET HE KEPT TALKING. He's probably still there, talking to no one! Or the deer! OR THE GHOST OF NAPOLEON'S DEAD MISTRESS WHO KNOWS?!

"Why can't we ever have normal neighbors?" I asked, thinking of our old  neighbor, Poltergeist Lady. But Joe explained that, to our neighbors, we're probably just as weird, if not weirder, which I suppose is true. I mean, once I learned that deer eat apples, I told Joe about my plan to lure deer into our yard (something I'd been threatening to do since I learned there were deer in the neighborhood) which was to go into our backyard, gather some apples from our apple tree (which the deer can't get to because of our fence), and arrange them in a pleasing fashion in the front yard, because, you know, the deer won't eat them unless they're presented well. I must have had an absolutely maniacal look on my face because Joe spent the next five minutes asking if I was OK.

AND YES. Yes, I'm OK. Or I will be, just as soon as I lure the deer to our yard with a beautiful apple arrangements, ensuring they like me best. SUCK IT, SCOTTY.

what if...

...school buses were called school trucks instead, and kids didn't sit in individual seats, they were like picked up on those lever-y things and dumped into the back of the truck? I think kids would like that because kids are dumb.

...seeing deer three mornings in a row was a sign of something, good luck or bad, who knows, and not just that the deer population is so out of control that they wander down your suburban street, eating flowers out of your neighbor's yard BUT NEVER OUT OF OUR YARD WHAT'S WRONG WITH OUR YARD? 

...The Shins weren't called The Shins but, like, The Knees? Or The Elbows. OR THE CHINS.

...coffee was illegal? I'd either be in jail or running a bootleg coffeehouse out of my basement, windows boarded up, secret passwords, bribing cops, the whole nine yards.

...we all still wore old-timey clothes like top hats and corsets? I would go live in a cave.

...men wore makeup and high heels instead of women? OH WAIT THERE WOULD BE NO SUCH THING AS MAKEUP OR HIGH HEELS.

...carrots not only gave you better eyesight but also X-RAY VISION? I'd be able to see through your clothes right now, is what.

...when you look in the mirror, you're really looking at the alternate version of yourself, one who is just like you in almost every way but who sees things slightly differently on account of, you know, mirror universe, and his or her life was almost like yours but slightly better or slightly worse and you didn't know which was which because, you know, you have no perspective and neither does Mirror Universe You because HOW COULD EITHER OF YOU? Would you trade, not knowing?

...you're the mirror universe?

ask again later

I complain a lot (see: this blog). Not just that, though, I TALK about complaining a lot (see again: this blog). I complain about everything: being tired, being hungry, my feet hurting, any time I'm not at 100% comfort level, my job, cleaning, the laundry, the pets, the house, etcetera etcetera ETCETERA.

I complain too much, I know. I try to be aware of it but even that doesn't stop the negativity from spewing out of my mouth. And what do I really have to complain about? Nothing, really. I'm so lucky. So why can't I shut up?

I have this picture hanging above my desk at home that I think I should maybe hang up at work, too. It's a flowchart. It's...well, here, just take a look:

I try to think about it whenever I start complaining about not being happy about something, because most of the things I'm unhappy about? I could change, just by trying harder, getting up earlier, not plopping my ass on the couch for hours at a time. My main problem, really, is that I like to complain about things but not actually change anything because change is scary and what if I change something and still nothing good happens? Well, duh, that means change something else but WHAT IF THAT DOESN'T WORK EITHER? So instead I stay still, changing nothing, and wait for the world to change into something that will make me happier.

But guess what? The world doesn't give a shit if you're totally happy. The world just...is.

My OTHER problem is that I expect everything to be sunshine and roses, like, all the time, which is impossible, you know? And I KNOW THAT, logically. I know it's impossible. I mean, I'm not a 10-year-old, despite all evidence to the contrary (see AGAIN: this blog). But when something goes wrong, I just want to shut down until things are right again. And again, I'm not 10 years old anymore, so obviously shutting down is not an option. I just want everything to be perfect for everyone ALL THE TIME, is that too much to ask?

Um, yes. It is. But I have to believe that I have the ability to make it as close to perfect as I possibly can. Not all the time, not every day, but when I can. And not just for myself, but for Joe, my friends, my family. It wouldn't really take that much. Just getting off the couch.

I know that things can really get rough when you go it alone.

Do you ever have a stretch of days where things just seem harder than usual? You're going about your day to day business, doing your day to day things, but each day seems a little bit harder than the day before. Sometimes I feel like I'm living the real life version of Groundhog Day. Get up, take a shower, eat breakfast, go to work, wish for the day to go faster, go home, play with Max, eat dinner, watch some TV, go to bed, lather, rinse, repeat.

One of the benefits of our new diet is that Joe and I make breakfast every morning and eat together before we go to work. Usually this is a happy affair, because who doesn't love breakfast? But one day last week, I sat, dejected, and mindlessly shoveled eggs into my mouth around heavy sighs. Joe asked what was wrong but really...nothing was wrong. Not really. I was just tired. Tired of being a grown up. Tired of worrying about bills and working and the house and doctor's appointments and social engagements and whether or not Max took his flea medication or if Phoebe throwing up meant she just ate too fast or that there's something wrong with her or when I'm going to get my bridesmaid dress altered or if we'll have time to go to the grocery this weekend or GOD BRAIN JUST SHUT UP ALREADY.

Sometimes I wonder what my younger self would think about my current life. Would she just be excited that I have a dog and a fucking awesome book collection? Or would she be disappointed that I wasn't a marine biologist who, on the side, writes books about her pet penguins? I'm sure it'd be a mix of both. I know I have a great life and that wishing for more is, well, greedy but that's what we do, right? Wish for more? 

When I was younger, say, in junior high, maybe early high school, I used to get in trouble all the time for taking long showers. And not just on those frigid mornings when I couldn't bring myself to leave the cocoon of steam I'd created in the bathroom, door closed, shower curtain pasted to the edges of the tub, no cool air allowed. But pretty much every time I showered, there would be someone on the other side of the door, shouting for me to get out already.

But I was busy, really, because I was in the shower writing wishes in the warm condensation that formed on the tile walls. Like, literally writing things on the walls with my finger, things that would disappear almost immediately, but, like the total weirdo that I am, I'd stand there writing things until my fingers pruned. And not just normal (normal?) things like: Jennie + JTT 4EVA but actual wishes, things I wished for myself and my family and friends and the future. I don't remember if any of them ever come true. Honestly, I don't even remember what I used to wish for. That I'd make the honor roll, probably? Maybe a pet monkey? Unlimited book allowance?

This morning, it was fairly chilly in the bathroom since I'd forgotten to shut the window last night, and I took a longer shower than normal, lollygagging in the peaceful stream of water, tracing wishes on the tile wall, wishes that probably aren't all that different than those wishes made so many years ago. Which is fine. Maybe it's just not time for them to come true yet.