Budgeting During College

It's Not You, It's Me

2012-01-10T11:42:00.001-07:00

Hey there Blogger, how have you been? It has been awhile, now that you mention it, since I've actually written a real blog. What's that? A week? Maybe more? Well, who's counting. You look good Blogger, you look good.

Where have I been? Oh, yeah, about that. Maybe we should sit down and talk about something. Blogger? Did you hear me? Blogger...I need to talk to you. Blogger...pause the damn game this is important.

Here, hold my hand. First let me just say that you're awesome...just...awesome. I mean look at all the friends you have! You're fun, and nice and just, awesome. Super awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I think you deserve better. We deserve better, don't you think?

Exactly. We deserve better. Better than this. What? Someone else? Noooo, there's no one else...there's...no one...else...

Okay fine, there's someone else.

Sorry! It wasn't like I went looking for Wordpress, it just sort of found me. And out of respect for you, nothing happened. Hear me? Nothing happened. We've just been hanging out: visiting over coffee, a few late night conversations...just...getting to know each other. At first I thought maybe it was just a phase I was going through. You know, like a mid-life blogging crisis or something, but it's gotten me to re-examine our relationship and now it's all I think about. I just can't live like this anymore. I have to be honest with myself. I have to be honest with us.

Please throw that in the garbage, I just cleaned yesterday. Or throw it on the floor, whatever.

Oh come on, did you really not see this coming? You used to be so attentive and caring; my blog uploaded at breakneck speeds and whenever I had a question you were always there to help. Lately though, as our lives have grown more complex (I added more features and you added more friends), we began to drift apart. Now, my blog is slow to upload and difficult to edit, and nothing I do seems to make you happy. I can't for the life of me figure out why I have two different fonts on my Weight Loss Community Page, and the font colors have become a serious pain in the ass to work with.

And the jealousy, what's that all about? You've not only deleted followers without my permission, but you've even deleted whole posts without my permission...who does that? You say you're letting me follow other blogs, but then I hear from them that you won't let me. It breaks my heart that you would go behind my back like that.

And while we're being honest, the new interface? Really? It's a boring gray color that makes it difficult to read and navigate. Yes, I've already told you that, numerous times, but you just ignore me...like you're doing now...Blogger! As I was saying, it's ugly and cranky. God, I feel like I don't even know you anymore.

So let's just call this for what it is: a fling that's run it's course.

Admit it, when we first got together it was wild and exciting. I was sneaking off in the middle of the night to spend time with you, and you opened my eyes to the exotic world of blogging. Neither of us wanted anything serious, and that's what made it so much fun! But things are different now. I've grown up and what I need from our relationship you just can't provide. I need more than a simple outlet for my writing, I need an advanced layout, one where I can add as many pages and links as I want. I need the ability to upload videos and photos without worrying about bringing my load time to a seemingly excrutiating halt, and I need the freedom to adjust my blog accordingly. Not to mention a little customer support every now and then.

Can you put down the Funyuns for just a second, we're kind of breaking up right now...

Thank you.

Where was I...oh, right. Well, I can honestly say I have no regrets. I mean we did have our good times, didn't we? Remember that time I won a blogging award? That wasn't all me, you contributed too. And I'm sure I'll think fondly of all our familiar places...on the couch, in the bedroom. I've experimented more with you than any other blog hosting site. You were my first, and I'll never forget that. I hope we can still be friends.

Most important though, we have the followers. They're so beautiful and innocent, and we never would've had them if we'd never gotten together, but that doesn't mean we should stay together for their sake. I've known other bloggers who did that and in the end everyone ended up getting hurt. Besides, the followers are old enough now to understand that we're just not as good together as we used to be. It's better this way, for everyone. Just because you're here and I'm over at Wordpress doesn't mean we're going to screw up they're lives...as long as we stay civil, that is.

And don't worry, I'm not going anywhere just yet. I still have to pack and my new place is going to take a lot of work before it's ready. Plus there are a few things we need to sort out, like which posts I'm going to take with me and how to make this as easy as possible on the followers.

Well I feel better now, I think we needed to get all of that out in the open. Is there anything you wanted to ask me?

No, Blogger, you can get your own damn beer.

Photography Wish List

2011-11-25T13:05:00.003-07:00

Ok folks, so after countless hours of research and recommendations from the photographer I've been working with, this is the initial combination of photography equipment I'm thinking of buying:

1. Camera: Canon EOS 40D 10.1 MP Digital SLR Camera

2. Lens: Canon EF 50mm F/1.8 1.8 II Lens

I can find both of these on Ebay for a combination of about $500, which considering my budget at this point is about $12, I have a feeling this is as close as I'm going to get. Any photographers out there have any advice for me? I'm an open book!!

Keep these requirements in mind:

- I'd use it for action/journalism shots more than portrait shots
- Some landscapes
- Extremely low budget

Any words of wisdom?

Thank You: All Of You

2011-10-31T03:44:00.003-06:00

Wow...how have you been blogging buddies? I've been...well, I'll explain. There's been a lot of development on my end, and I bet you all have no idea how much you had to do with it.

Here, I'll break it down for you.

Remember about 8 months ago when I started blogging on a complete whim? No? Well that's cool. I had three week break between when spring semester ended and summer semester began, and I'd never gone that long without having a paper to write in years, so when a friend suggested blogging to keep my fingers busy, I decided to check it out.

I found Blogger, opened an account under a fake name (not completely ready to trust the internet) and started writing. College was all I'd known, so that was a good enough topic at the time. But as I became more and more frustrated with the career path I had chosen, the topics turned to self-introspection. What the hell was I doing? For as defiant as I was in everything else in life, I sure waved the white towel pretty quick when my parents limited my options for potential college majors. I gave in without a fight. Without doing my own research, even. And sure enough, the farther I got along on the path that had been chosen for me by those "who knew best", the more miserable I became.

And through it all, you were always the first ones to know. I explained to you the intense misery I felt at my first "big girl job", how I wanted to just keep driving everyday on my way to work, and how I felt trapped and confined by the metaphorical prison cell known as the cubicle. I word for word described my boss's unwarranted bullying, and then filled you in on the day I got fired. After that ordeal, I gave you more than a glimpse into who I really was by letting you all see the results of my own psychological career assessment. I had previously changed my mind so many times (maybe I should have seen the sign then?) that I felt guilty about letting any of my family know that after two bachelor degrees and a Master's, I was starting from scratch. You, blogging world, were my main source of feedback.

And feedback I got. People I'd never met before in my entire life offered condolences and words of encouragement. I felt like I belonged to a secret society, and one that was fully supportive of whichever direction I wanted to take.

Soon I focused on a select few careers and decided to take the leap. Writer/photographer turned out to be the most realistic (when compared to acting, writing music, finger-painting and underwater basket weaving) but it still seemed like such a long shot. But with your encouragement, I took the leap.

I sent out about countless job applications to websites and magazines asking the naive question of, "Hi, I like to write. How do I write for you?" Brash and completely unprofessional? Definitely. But worth the embarrassment to get my question answered? Absolutely. I had no idea how to get into this business, and I knew I had to start somewhere.

I got 6 replies and they offered me jobs writing bit by bit articles. Instantly, I felt the pit of my stomach grow heavy. What the hell did I think I was doing? I don't have a journalism degree, or an English degree or a writing degree, or an 'in' with some famous poet, or a collection of antique pens, or a library with leather-bound books...I had the sudden urge to answer all of them back with, "Sorry, family emergency. Maybe the spring issue will work out better. P.S. lose my email I'm terrified of you." But I'd already committed on here. On my online blog with a fake name. So I stuck it out.

And thank God I did. It's been tough, but I now blog for three separate companies on a weekly basis, and write for 3 different statewide magazines. Eventually I'd love to call myself a freelance photojournalist (I'm still saving for that damn camera) and be able to document history right as it happens. In the meantime though I'm learning new skills, like how to actual promote a blog correctly and how to use backlinking and other ways of optimization to increase traffic. Plus last night I found out I type 80 words a minute. Take that, Mavis Beacon.

Blogger buddies, what I wanted to say was thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou a million times over. I feel like I'm finally in a job/career that is what I want to do, not what someone thought I would be good at. I'm excited, and I can't wait to see where this is all going to lead. I work hard, I make my own hours, and guess what...if I travel? I don't have to take time off work.

So that trip to Italy? That you voted on? Still planned for the spring. Except instead of a week long trip to Italy it's gradually grown to a 3 week trip to 6 different countries.

And I can't wait to write all about it.

Nightshift vs Dayshift

2011-10-07T04:16:00.001-06:00

Fun fact: I'm a nightshifter. At a psychiatric hospital.

As in I work nightshifts...not some mythological shape-shifter super hero...although that sounds way more awesome...

But there’s a number of reasons why working nights is better for me: I get paid more, and by nature staying up all night just comes much more naturally than staying up all day. Plus there's a definite personality shift from day staff to night staff, and I fall into the latter.

So here we go:

5 Reasons Why Night Staff is Better than Day Staff:

1.) Night staff gets my sense of humor.

Day shift:

Nurse on lunch break holding an apple: "Oh darn, I forgot to wash my apple this morning."
Me on lunch break holding an apple: "Oh yeah...me too."
I take a bite.
Nurse: "Wait, aren't you worried about eating a dirty apple?"
Me: "Nah, I'm more worried about the meth I did this morning."

Silence.

Example #2:

Nurse #1: "Oh look, we're getting a patient named Heaven."
Nurse #2: "That's such an interesting name, I haven't heard that before."
Me: "That's totally my stripper name."

Silence.

For the record, I do not do meth and I'm also not a stripper. Night staff laughs at that stuff. Point: nights.

2.) Night staff are as close to vampires as you'll get.

Night staff has no one to impress. We also shriek in the morning when people turn on the lights, and we walk to our cars in awe of this strange thing called "sunlight". Point: nights.

3.) We make better coffee.

Please, point: nights.

4.) Night staff are better at their jobs.

Yes, this is a stretch, but I'm going to say it. See, at a psych hospital, we are a part of the "real" hospital, so therefore we have to follow all staffing orders that are hospital wide. To save money, the hospital staffs short on nights. For the rest of the hospital it makes sense. People are sleeping at night. But in psych....oh honey...

People don't sleep in psych. They are always awake. When you tell someone it's bedtime, there's a good chance they will tell you that they are an orange and you are a carrot and as such they have superiority over you. There's really no way to argue with that.

Therefore, nightshift has to do the same jobs dayshift does, except with considerably less people. Point: nights.

5.) We look out for each other.

There's a million people to fill in for days. But nights? Hardly anyone. If we're short there's a list of about 6 people we can call, and we all know it. Dayshift has the luxury of not coming in for any extra shifts because most likely someone else will cover it. Nights? Not so much. You get called you come to work. There's no one else to call.

There. I've vented and now I feel better. Also I'm going to bed now.

Fall Fashion Conundrum

2011-09-26T10:02:00.012-06:00

Ugh, Mail.

Typically, I enjoy getting mail. I even welcome the familiar stack of "pre-approved" credit card applications that make the bi-weekly journey from my doorstep directly to my trash can. But some days, the awaiting delivery turns out to be my complete undoing, almost as if the mailbox had transformed into Pandora's Box while I was slaving away at a hospital night shift.

And why the sour attitude? Well, every once in awhile, a fashion brochure (how the hell do they find me?) will turn in up the mail, and it's usually not all that threatening. Granted, the floral day dress on the cover of the spring issue will absolutely not go unnoticed (and will probably end up in my closet), but summer catalogs with "perfect" women in their "perfect" bikini bodies on "perfect" yachts rarely tempt me into digging out my credit card. Typically, I throw them out after nothing more than the casual flip through.

Until the fall issue, that is. The fall issue, without proper warning and preparation, can be devastating on my budget.

Fact: I'm a huge sucker for fall clothing. The coats, the boots, the hats, the sweaters...it's all gold. I love the coziness, easy sophistication and simple stylishness of it all. Each article of clothing is meant to wrap you not only in a plush, soft fabric, but also in a feeling of confidence and stylishness. Suddenly, it becomes chic to cover up. The skin-showing overload of summer gives way to the tasteful body-conscious silhouettes of fall. I'm already on the prowl for a long sleeved minidress...

And those damn coats and scarves hanging in store windows...brutal. It's safe to say I'm a ridiculous fan; scarves are indeed my kryptonite, and as such, they belong in my closet, adding to my already substantial collection. I've also been craving a red peacoat since I was old enough to figure out what they were. It's always been a fantasy of mine to be the lone lady in red, walking down a silent street of white. I've had my eye on this one (pictured left) for the last two years.

Not so fast sweaters, you're not off the hook either. Sweaters shout at me from holiday magazine covers, and I feel I absolutely must have one for the upcoming snowed-in nights I'll be spending curled up by the fireplace, on a fur rug, drinking a glass of wine and eating chocolate truffles. See the crazy vignettes my brain creates to justify my purchases? We don't even own a fireplace. Or a fur rug.

And boots...oh don't get me started on boots. In my mind the only reason a leaf would fall from a tree is so it could be stepped on by a fashionable knee high boot. Right now I'm obsessed with anything that's worn and weathered. I don't want a new pair like the ones in the magazines (who am I kidding, I'd never turn them down), but I'm craving something that has a story behind it. A pair that looks as though they were formerly worn by a sheepherder in northern Ireland. Preferably with a heel so I can feel appropriately matched with my 6'5" boyfriend, but I'm not too picky. Oh and straps and buckles, lots and lots of straps and buckles, regardless of their uselessness in the real world.

So while this may be my favorite time of year, it's also my most difficult. We've already canceled the cable and I've gotten a second job, so I'm not about to do something stupid like buy a pair of boots.

God I love a good pair of boots...maybe just one pair...I've been so good...

Focus. I need to get through this. Sorry awesome fall coats, boots, hats, sweaters and scarves, but you're just going to have to wait until next year when I can buy you in a thrift store for 1/10 the price. Of course, I do have a closet swap party coming up on October 14, so lets just focus on that.

So tell me, what do you like about the fall?

A Sign It's Good Day

2011-09-22T05:45:00.001-06:00

I had a Jerry Maguire moment today. No, not the "SHOW ME THE MONEY" moment you all are thinking of, but a different one. The clip below should explain it pretty good.

Don't you just hate when that happens? When you're so excited you want to shout it to the world but the next best thing is singing at the top of your lungs. So instead, you have to hunt down an awesome song to sing to and it's then and there that every radio station seems to be collectively running their "sh*tty song of the hour" promotion. One of my favorite songs to sing to? 500 miles, by The Proclaimers. I love the "Da Da Da Da (Da Da Da Da) Da Da Da Da (Da Da Da Da) Da Undela Undela Undela la la la" part. And I'm sure that looks wierd but if you know the song you'll get it. And because I also love HIMYM I'll help you out:

And why was I so happy? I have no idea. I was on my way home from the gym, had gotten in a pretty impressive workout, and it smelled like fall outside. Also, I've been working a lot on my new travel/food blog and it's finally starting to come around. Plus I've also heard back from a few writing offers too, so I guess I take that back. I do know what I was having a Jerry Maguire moment:

Because I was having an effin' good day, that's why.

Shameless Plug

2011-09-20T09:49:00.004-06:00

Well just a little update to let everyone know I'll be splitting my blogging time from now on. I'm glad to say I get to be a regular part of the blog associated with the site www.thegoodlifeoncampus.com!

Now typically, when I am asked to blog on behalf of a service or product I run for the hills. Unless, that is, two conditions are present: 1.) I agree with with the premise of the service or product (no one's trying to rip anyone else off or anything), and 2.) I can give my honest opinion. I'm not going to write about how "awesome" a product is if I just threw it out in the front yard and lit it on fire.

Which is why I can safely say I'm excited to be a part of this project. The goal of the blog (http://thegoodlifeoncampus.tumblr.com) is to help students get the most out of their college experience, and what's the best way to do that? By being yourself! The online store is full of quirky, unique dorm decorations, as well as hilarious toys and trinkets (like light graffiti). I support that. College is about finding yourself and expressing yourself, so I say the more personal touches the better!

Lesson 16: "Interesting" People Are Lame

2011-09-13T04:45:00.007-06:00

Let's get one thing straight here; the dictionary defines the word 'interesting' as, "Arousing curiosity, attracting or holding attention or provoking thought." The media's definition?

Well, not that. Contrary to the brainwashed opinion of the general public, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills (or New Jersey, New York, Atlanta, Orange County, Washington D.C., Miami, Fargo, or wherever), are not interesting. Dramatic maybe, but interesting? No.

To me, the definition of an interesting person is someone who has learned life lessons the hard way, by experiencing them. Someone with a passion for life and the guts to pursue it. A story that starts with, "Well I totally wanted those pair of shoes but then my friend was like, 'Those are hideous,' and I was like, 'Ya, but I want them' and she was like, 'My tongue itches' and I was like,'Your tongue is fat...' " really isn't going to peak my interest for too long.

One person who is interesting? My mom. She got married when she was 16 and moved to Montana where she trained horses for a living. My mom's been a florist, a waitress, a dog groomer, a single mother, a teacher, a cook, and still owns her own ice cream truck. She was married twice and divorced twice (once to a diagnosed psychopath for 20 years), but she's still never lost her innate warmth and sense of humor. She's always up for anything and she never takes life too seriously. My mom has been through life's twists and turns. She's an interesting person.

Another of my favorites, of which I'm not as obviously biased, is an 86 year old man with oversized ears and icey blue eyes. For the sake of confidentiality, we'll call him Jack.

Jack and I met when he was admitted to the psychiatric hospital during one of my nightshifts. Even though he was in the early stages of Alzheimer's, at 6'1" he still had an undeniable presence. One day, while handing him a cup of water, he punched me in the side, bringing me to my knees. After taking some time to gather my thoughts (and resisting the urge to give him a swift kick in the shin), I clumsily made my way to the nurses station positive he'd cracked one of my right ribs. I was informed, however, that I should've been more careful. Had I been given a more accurate report, I would've learned that, back in the day, Jack had been a professional boxer known for his killer left hook. Oh really...

Turns out, Jack had been more than a professional boxer. He'd first been a professional baseball player until he was drafted for WWII. Then, while he was in the Navy, he took up boxing. After the war, he went pro (where he met his wife, who was also a professional boxer). His father, mother, and two brothers had all been musicians (violin, cello, saxophone, and piano). According to his wife, Jack himself played a mean fiddle, which he showed when his entire family (among others) performed for president Truman in 1950.

And he was funny. His wit was the inappropriate kind I find so hilarious. Once, when one of his sons visited:

Jack: "Who the hell are you?"
John: "Dad, it's me, John."
Jack: "No, I know my son John, and you're not him. For God's sake man, you have breasts."
John: "Well, you're going blind. And besides, maybe I like them."
Jack: "I can see why. You look good in a 'B' cup."

He also gave me my boyfriend's all-time favorite quote:

Me: "So what did you like more, boxing or baseball?"
Jack: "Baseball, always baseball. A real ball player never likes anything more than baseball. Hell when he can't play anymore he coaches, and when he can't coach anymore he just hangs around and rakes the field. A dirt diamond is the best place on earth."

He told me stories of the games he played in, the crowds he boxed for and the people he fought alongside in battle. He described places he'd been, the foods he'd eaten, the first time he laid eyes on his wife, and the feel of a fiddle that had been handcrafted just for him. He told me of the night he got drunk in an Irish pub and, "...won a fight over a lass that turned out to be a fella." Another time, he won $6,400 on a dog race only to lose it all in a poker game with Doyle Brunson.

Listening to him tell stories, just as listening to my mother tell stories, is an adventure in itself. People like these two, you see, are interesting. The media, however, would probably classify both Jack and my mother as "boring."

So strange that the opinions of pop tarts and reality stars are valued over those who have real life experiences. I know I'll never see the paparazzi outside my mom's house, questioning her about the latest trends in pantsuits, but I'll take her stories over a fake-baked camera-hungry bimbo any day. Real people have been through real struggles and real triumphs, and the emotions that come with those experiences cannot be scripted.

Someday, I hope to be an interesting person myself. Or better yet, I hope to be a "boring" one. "Interesting" people are lame, it's the "boring" ones that are having all the fun.

Who are your favorite "boring" people?

9/11 A Different Perspective

2011-09-11T03:50:00.004-06:00

When I first started blogging, my boyfriend told me, "I can't wait until you get your first hater comment. Then you'll really know you've made it." He was joking, of course, but it's true. Posting what the vast majority of people already think is essentially playing it safe. No fresh perspective, no thought-provoking dialogue to trigger a novel viewpoint in a new (or familiar) reader.

Well having said that, it should also be perfectly clear that I have no intention of offending anyone through my writing, and if this post seems offensive, in any way, I apologize ahead of time.

On September 11, 2001, a group of 19 militant extremists took the fate of innocent people into their hands, resulting in what is generally now referred to as "The Terrorist Attacks". For those who were there, on site witnessing the pandamonium first hand, I can't even begin to imagine the feelings of chaos and helplessness. The rest of us, however, stayed glued to our televions sets, radios and phones. We assumed the uniform pose of confusion and disbelief; our hands covering our mouths and our bodies huddled together with family, friends, or complete strangers. We watched, stunned and united in the terror of the events unfolding before us. Soon the twin towers fell, and along with them our seemingly impermeable sense of security.

I'm sure everyone has their own recollection of where they were and what they were doing when the planes hit. Personally, I was 16, just waking up to go to school. My radio alarm went off, and in my sleepy haze I wondered into the living room and informed my mom of the radio claims that a plane had just crashed into the Pentagon. She inhaled sharply, and we turned on the television. We stared at the destruction; speechless.

At school I joined my classmates as we went from class to class, our eyes fixed on every television. Ironically, the only teacher that turned it off was my U.S. History teacher, so we could "get some work done".

This event has no doubt caused unimaginable grief and despair to a vast number of people. In some way, whether large or smalle, we were all affected. Some were killed or injured and some had family or friends who were killed or injured. Many still endure the PTSD that often follows a traumatic event, not to mention the lives that were lost or forever changed by the ensuing war.

This is all irrefutable, and by no means do I intend to make the degree of these peoples' suffering seem any less severe than it was (and still is). My point is this: we, the United States, are the fortunate ones.

Attacks like these occur daily, if not hourly, in some countries. Yet in the United States, they are reason for a national holiday. We have one day a year, where we remember the violence and fear of that one other particular day 10 years ago. In some countries, (like the very countries we are currently at war with), they don't have time to stop and remember. To recollect where they were and what they were doing "that one time" when terrorists attacked their home. In some countries, "that one time" doesn't exist. Violence, destruction and terror is their past, present, and future.

How fortunate am I, that I don't live in a country like Somalia, the generally thought to be most corrupt country in the world? Or Chad, where you are most likely to die as a child? I don't live in a state of constant pain, corruption and fear. I don't have to worry about a renegade lighting my house on fire, being murdered for showing too much of my wrists, or the possibility of my future child being kidnapped. I don't have to worry about my future son being turned into a soldier of war at 9 years old or my niece being used as a sex slave.

What happened was an incredibly cruel moment in my country's history, but when I think of it, I try to think of all that I am fortunate for now. I know death, violence and destruction still occur in places in America, but they do not consistently occur on the scale we witnessed that day.

The 9/11 attacks have taught me to be grateful for the country I currently live in. Grateful that similar attacks do not happen here on a daily basis, grateful that we have the technology to be able to broadcast and inform others throughout the nation. Above all, I'm grateful that we have the means to rebuild, and grateful that I am here, in my nice warm bed, healthy, safe, and blogging.

How did 9/11 affect you?

Lesson 15: Know Your Weaknesses

2011-09-09T11:41:00.004-06:00

For most of us - scratch that - all of us, there is at least one situation that not only tests our ability to make our own decisions, but proves we're completely lacking in it. A specific circumstance that, when the conditions are duplicated time and time again, we perform the exact same action, regardless of any preconceived plan.

"Not I," I can hear you muttering under your breath. Sorry, but I'm not buyin' it. You're just as vulnerable as I am. I actually like to think I'm pretty good at exercising that whole 'free will' concept, but because I am already sensing your growing skepticism before I've hardly completed my second paragraph I'm willing to give a few personal examples in order to shed some light on my end of the argument.

For instance, if I at any time I discover a piano within walking distance, I will play that piano. If a stray cat comes within a 20 block radius of my current location, I will find that cat and I will pet that cat. If at any time I find myself within reasonable proximity to cake, a small portion of that cake will be missing by the time I leave. These things are entirely out of my hands, people. It's cause and effect. Just as simple as that.

Still shaking your head in denial? How about when you're at a friend's house and there seems to be some kind of food preparation taking place. Do you consistently weasel yourself into performing a certain cooking task? Like chopping? Or mixing? Or taste-testing the brownie batter/cookie dough? Right, that's what I thought.

So now that we're on the same page, I'd like to share with you the specific item that causes an avalanche of chaos the moment I come in contact with it. My own personal 'life landmine', if you will.

Last year was my most recent encounter. It was a random Saturday afternoon and I found myself in a Barnes & Noble, browsing the shelves for a book to entertain myself with until I felt like doing something more productive. Just killin' time on a lazy Saturday, that's all. Frolicking about...doo-doo-dee-doo...just a lookin' and a readin'...not hurtin' anybody...

AhhhhhI'mlying. I lied. Just now. Sorry. Spoken like a true addict I've sugar-coated my story to make it seem more innocent than it is. But I can't lie to you, faithful follower. You're just so damn pure...

You see I never just casually "end up" at Barnes & Noble. I go there with a specific purpose, and once I am there, I never just nonchalantly drift among the various genres, letting my interest rise and fall depending on the selection before me. I more or less stall, attempting to navigate in a strategic way that allows me to "accidentally" arrive at the giant wall in the back left corner. "Act natural," I tell myself. But I can't act natural, I'm too excited. That wall, you see, is the "forbidden section".

The "forbidden section" is the travel section. And on that wall, at the very top, is a book that is completely off limits. In my mind, I describe it as about four feet tall and two feet wide. A monster on the thrown that is the top shelf. It radiates a soft comforting music that draws me in like a moth to a bug zapper. Oh yeah, and it glows in the dark.

Okay in real life it's nothing all that fancy, but this is my story so that's irrelevant. It's the National Geographic book Journey's of a Lifetime: 500 of the World's Greatest Trips. It's honestly not even allowed in the house. I would be completely broke if it were, my savings account having been drained to purchase plane tickets and pepper spray. But in Barnes & Noble, it sits on that back wall, beckoning to me; the staff completely oblivious to the havoc it wreaks on my imagination.

The last time I saw it, I texted my boyfriend to let him know of my dishonorable intentions:

Me: I found a very bad thing.
Boyfriend: Um...what's that?
Me: I'm in Barnes 'n' Noble.
Boyfriend: Marlee, put the book down, and slowly back away.
Me: I can almost reach it.
Boyfriend: It's dangerous.
Me: It's so pretty...
Boyfriend: Marlee...
Me: It has PICTURES!
Boyfriend: On my way.

And 20 minutes later I was rescued.

Someday I will own that book. It's not like it's incredibly expensive or anything, it's just something I can't have at the moment. My impulsive nature being as strong as it is, there's no telling what would happen if it were being consistently provoked with pictures of gardens in the south of France or stunning landscapes of New Zealand. No, that's just not a good combination. So for now I wait.

And what about you? Do you have any 'life landmines' that you're aware of?

Lesson 14: Go For It

2011-09-06T03:44:00.006-06:00

Fun fact: I've never seen an episode of Jersey Shore. Ever.

But I have watched the Monarch Butterfly Migration countless times, mentally putting myself in central Mexico when they take off in the millions. I also can't tell you what the latest fashion trend is, but I can quote you airline tickets to any continent at any time of year, because the last time I checked was probably less than an hour ago. And I wouldn't recognize Kim Kardashian if she hijacked my car, but I'd probably run down a random man from 100 yards away because my vision-flawed eyes convinced me it was Anthony Bourdain from the Travel Channel's No Reservations. Personally, I'd think I were doing him a favor. I'm sarcastic, he's sarcastic. He's funny, I think I'm funny. He'd want to meet me, right?

Er, right. Plus he kind of has my dream job, traveling around the world documenting his experiences with food and culture, all the while narrating with the clever sense of humor I find so brilliant. Ah the skill of storytelling, of connecting.

And that's what I want to do. If you've checked in on me from time to time you may have witnessed first-hand my difficult realization that the office-bound, paperwork-flooded career I've been pursuing in counseling is, in fact, a terrible fit for me. On top of it, I've been up countless nights, giving in to the guilt and shame brought on by thoughts of my impressive student loan history being used for something I was never even passionate about in the first place. I feel as if I'm being snobbish and picky, like I've spent $15,000 on a new car only to refuse to drive it because the color green just "isn't my taste". Here we are in an economy where jobs are few and far between, and I've got a leg up on the competition and I'm not going to take it? What's wrong with me?

Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. It's taken a lot of tears to accept the fact that the path I've been following was started by someone else, but that doesn't mean I'm condemned to it. Furthermore, it doesn't mean I should feel guilty about deviating from it. And the end result? I feel liberated.

This is the first time I have actually felt excited about what I might be doing for a living. The kinds of jobs I sought out in high school (photojournalism, cake decorator, florist) are the creative, fast-paced, hands-on jobs I not only loved, but was good at too.

So lately, I've been working with a photographer in town, for free. She's incredibly helpful, she's passionate, and she really knows what she's doing. The information I'm learning from her is priceless. And a bonus? She was in a similar situation as myself. Switched from her RN to photography after a realizing she hated her current career, and never looked back. Makes me feel right at home.

In the meantime, I'm still working per diem night shifts at the hospital, which pays fairly well and allows me to make my own schedule. As an added bonus, on slow nights (like tonight), it allows me the freedom to research in depth information.

Like how I might go about getting hired as a writer for a local newspaper or magazine (or just intern there), and making sure the camera I want is the right one for me.

Oh and which camera is that, you ask? The same camera I've had my eye on for the last two years: the Canon EOS 7D. (In reality, I want the Canon 5D Mark II but let's be honest people, it's going take another year minimum to save for that sucker.) But at least I know the cheaper alternative is a good match.

So for all the negativity that seems to be surrounding my situation, I feel I'm actually pretty lucky. I know the gear I want (I've researched it thoroughly) and I'm excited about the idea of gaining experience writing in the "real world". As an added bonus, I know my education is not going to waste. My training in counseling (e.g. knowing the right way to phrase questions to allow someone to open up) has given me an edge when it comes to interviewing people. Hmm, maybe someday I'll be so lucky as to trade verbal punches with a grimy politician of some kind...yes I think I would like that very much.

So consider yourself warned, Anthony. While I may not be gunning for your job just yet, I am attempting to loosely follow in your footsteps of sharing other's experiences through the art of storytelling, in whatever way that may be. Oh and if we ever do meet? Watch out, I'd like to think I'm pretty damn hilarious myself.

New Page: Weight Loss Community

2011-09-05T10:34:00.003-06:00

In this post, I explained that I am currently trying to lose 20 lbs within 62 days. Recently, I've gotten so many comments and emails about people who want to join in along with me, that I've decided to do just that; make a way for people to join in!

So I'm making a new page for all of us! I'll update it daily as I update my own progress. Just email me or comment with your name (or code name), height/weight, goals, and progress, and I'll add you to the display!

Oh and if I don't hear from you after a while? I'll email you to check in, and see how everything is going. Hopefully it'll help to keep everyone on track. Actually, let me know if you want to have your email displayed I'll even leave a spot available for it. Think of it as your own little healthy community. We'll be each other's fan base and support system!

I'll make the page as soon as I get a few more emails to get everything set up. Let's see how this goes!

New Page: 20 lbs in 62 Days

2011-09-02T06:27:00.005-06:00

For all my health and nutrition knowledge combined with psych knowledge, I decided to do a little experiment on myself, and all of you get to watch. The deadline is Halloween, and I'll update it daily :)

Comments are enabled, so let me know what you think about what's going on! Just click on the page at the top right. Here's the link: 20 lbs in 62 Days

Wish me luck!

Lesson 13: Reality Hurts

2011-09-02T02:02:00.002-06:00

Well reality hit pretty hard this week. See our rent is due by the 5th, and since our roommate moved out in August that means our rent this month is double what it was last month. Combine that with the fact that I lost my job, and we're looking at some serious cutbacks. Granted, I'm still working at my old job (I never officially quit when I was recently hired) but it's per diem, meaning I'm not gauranteed any hours. And this week? I've only gotten one shift so far. Ouch.

So this puts a little damper on my goal of finishing school this fall. As much as I want to, it's just not feasible. My tuition bill (for my last 6 credits) is $1,866.55, and sorry to say but I just don't have it. Another downer? The classes I need aren't offered at all in the spring, meaning I have to wait until next fall to complete them. It's only 6 credits, but I'd much rather be done now.

So it's been time to have some serious talks about what we can and can't afford to live without. What I can't afford to give up? Gym membership and my phone. Unfortunately they're both already at the bare minimum. My gym membership is one of the cheapest in town, and my phone is basically only used for texting. Plus I'm already splitting a phone plan with my boyfriend and my mom, making it cheaper than if I were on my own plan.

Top of the list, of course, is getting this rent situation figured out. We've got someone who might be able to move in at the end of September, but that seems to be our only lead. It's tough to find a place as cheap as what we pay when we have a roommate.

Next on the list? Cable.

...........

Sorry I had to take a second there...that hurt. But we can't afford it, so out it goes.

On the bright side, you can look up most any tv episode on the internet now as well as buy whole seasons of our favorite shows. That way we don't even have to deal with commercials. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts...

The idea of a yard sale came up as well, but frankly, we don't have much to sell. It's okay though, we do have stuff we don't need, and $20 is better than nothing.

But don't worry folks, the internet isn't going anywhere. How else would I stay connected with you?

Irrational Fears

2011-08-31T01:56:00.009-06:00

Fact: I'm scared of extremely stupid things.

This is a rather embarrassing fact about myself. Generally, I'm not scared of anything, and I mean anything. Trying gross foods? No problem. Creepy crawly/intimidating critters that fall into the "more scared of you than you are of them" category, like spiders, snakes, Grizzly bears or sharks? Bring it on. Even dangerous stunts, like skydiving or bungee jumping don't phase me.

But everyone has a few random strange fears. My boyfriend is convinced Bigfoot lives less than a mile from us, and a friend of his avoids sleeping over at our house because he thinks one of my cats is going to scratch his face off in the middle of the night. He'll pet them during the day, but for some reason as soon as the sun goes down he thinks they become rabid little beasts, like gremlins or something. As for myself, well, I admit I have a few unbelievably ridiculous things that terrify me. So here they are now:

My Top 3 Irrational Fears

3.) Being stranded in a car in 100 degree weather with no air conditioning or cracked windows. When I get into a car, I literally have to check to make sure there are no child locks so if there were a dramatic spike in temperature I'd still have a way out. I've had panic attacks over windows that have a slight delay before they roll down. I'm not kidding, folks. Heat + small space + no relief = instant crazy person.

2.) The old Burger King mascot. It's a guy in a king costume with a plastic face that hands out burgers. Come on people, it's one step away from a homicidal clown that hands out balloons and then follows you home and kills you in your sleep.

1.) People on television who seem to be speaking directly to me. For example, there's this new internet and cable company in Montana called Optimum. The main guy on all their commercials freaks me the hell out. He talks about how Optimum is here to serve me, then looks into my eyes and says, "In the coming weeks, I'll be back with more information." Except I hear, "In the coming weeks I'll slowly find my way to your house, and then one morning you'll walk out of your bedroom to find me sitting on your couch, wearing your high heels and holding a steak knife." I don't want him to be back. I want him to leave me alone and stop staring at me. If I ever actually see him in real life I'll genuinely think he's stalking me. I think he's stalking me right now, actually...creepy, creepy, Optimum commercial man...

So I'm sure there are a few more, but these are the basic ones. What are some of your irrational fears?

Lesson 12: Fast Food Landmines Are Sneaky SOB's

2011-08-29T03:01:00.003-06:00

Well today was the last 8 hour drive from just south of Denver, CO to Billings, MT, and with it came a very hard lesson of life: avoiding fast food on the road is near impossible.

If you've read my previous posts (Weight Loss from a Psych Point of View, Eating Healthy While Eating Out, etc) you'll know that I'm pretty savvy when it comes to the world of nutrition and weight loss decision making skills. My degrees in health and psychology have proved to be a useful combination.

But I'm also a hot-blooded woman, and when I'm stuck in a vehicle for 8 hours, I get hungry...for anything.

And therein lies the problem. For the most part, I can say no to the variety of fast food chains set before me. I can choose Subway over Burger King any day, but a road trip means I'm covering new territory, and I'm presented with new "exciting" food choices, like Long John Silvers.

See, we don't have a Long John Silvers in Montana, so it's as if the commercials that are constantly flashed in my face have been packed into my brain over the years, gradually creating an overload of whatever chemical it is that tells me I want deep fried shrimp, now. The sight of their billboard causes some kind of explosion in my mind that makes it difficult for me not to reach across and pull the steering wheel toward the exit ramp. There's no time to communicate my needs, and frankly, I don't think I'd be able to communicate them in a less than psychotic fashion anyway. So when my boyfriend inquired if I wanted to stop, he must have derived from the wide-eyed, nostril-flared drooling stare that the correct answer was to be parked out front of the seafood fast-food chain. To deny me at this point, would've been more than dangerous.

Now folks I haven't eaten fast-food in...wait for it...years. And why would I? I know exactly what I'm getting; a salty over processed, overpriced, synthetic-filled, parchment-lined basket of diabetes, high blood pressure and low self-esteem. And this is just within the first couple bites.

So why is it that I think I'm magically immune to all of these effects as soon as I find myself on an unfamiliar highway? Because I'm definitely not, and I know it. In fact, I think I'm even more susceptible to them. Nausea always seems to be accelerated when riding in a car 4 hours before the meal and 4 hours after is on the agenda.

Therefore, I ended up learning the hard way the lesson that I already knew. Fast-food is meant to draw you in, but the end result is always the same: you feel like crap. Mindless eating is the enemy of any healthy lifestyle. Ever eaten at a crappy restaurant that made you sick afterwards? Sure you have, we've all done it, but do you go back there on a regular basis? No, and you know why? Because they're not constantly trying to drag you in to give them a second chance. It's advertising, and I fall for it every time.

So I guess I'm saying I'm not perfect. I was fast-food sober for years, and blew it on a generic basket of oil-soaked shrimp-shaped regret. Now I'm cranky and am going to bed. Oh well, now I know better. Tomorrow is another chance to make the right choices, so I'll just have to look forward to that!

How To Choose The Right Career

2011-08-26T13:18:00.007-06:00

I don't want the title of this post to throw you, I haven't found the secret to life or anything. But considering I had 8 hours of travel time on Sunday, then 13 on Wednesday (yes, we got a little lost) it's safe to say I've really had some time to really process everything that has happened in the last month or so. The sudden realization that I've been studying for a career I never intended on doing in the first place along with the embarrassing heart-pang of never even trying something I wanted to do made for some long (and I'm sure draining) conversations with my boyfriend.

But thankfully, they've been incredibly beneficial. He's not only supportive, but extremely intelligent. Plus his degree in Business gives him fantastic insight as to what it takes to make it in an industry, as most creative jobs are, where your ability to market yourself can mean sink or swim. So using my Master's in psychology, I did some homework and combined a few typical psychological exams with some basic discussion principles and came up with a quick way for you to figure out a job for yourself that would fit in with your daily life, you would be good at, and would also enjoy doing. Here's what was left:

1.) Have your closest friends and family members take the following survey. They have to know you extremely well, otherwise it's going to be all over the place. It's only four questions, and some of them may seem silly, so make sure they take it seriously. I've added some answers people said about me as possible examples.

1.) If you could choose 2 colors to describe me, what would they be and why?

My Example: - Yellow and Orange, because I'm, "energetic, exciting, creative happy and bright".

2.) Of the following jobs, which would I be happiest in and which would I be the most miserable in. Why?

- Storm Chaser

- Lawyer

- Teacher/Coach

- Accountant

- Salesmen/Real Estate Agent

- Artist/Writer
- Sculptor/Mechanic/Carpenter
- Masseuse/Physical Therapist/Yoga Instructor

- Carpenter/Oil Driller/Fisherman

My Example: “Best would be Storm Chaser, because you like to do things that are a little dangerous, and you’re kinda crazy. Or a writer. You're good at telling stories. Worst would be salesman, I don’t think you would be good at pushing people to buy something they don’t need. You would feel bad.”

3.) List 3 things that would describe my perfect vacation day ever and 3 things that would describe my worst vacation day ever. Why these things?

My Example: “Best would be 1.) Going somewhere new that you’ve never seen before, 2.) Doing something that would give you an adrenaline rush, like bungee jumping or swimming with sharks or something, and 3.) Having someone there to share it with. Worst would be 1.) Having to stay in one place, like going somewhere but everyone wanted to just lay by the pool all day because you would probably want to explore. 2.) Having some kind of schedule or routine you had to stick to because you would probably get distracted or want to do something else, and 3.) Being somewhere super hot and having no way to cool down, because you’re weird like that.”

4.) List 3 of my strengths and 3 of my weaknesses, as they can be applied to anything.

My Example: “Three strengths would be 1.) You’re hardworking and kind of stubborn. Once you set your mind to something it gets done. 2.) You’re really good at telling stories or describing things, and 3.) You’re good at connecting with people. Three weaknesses would be 1.) You get bored really easily, 2.) You tend to follow your own agenda. You get frustrated if you think you can do a job better a different way. 3.) You have a lot of things running through your head and pulling you in different directions.”

2.) Now list off what you wanted to be when you were little along with any job you would want to have now. Include anything you might consider a “pipe-dream”. And don’t worry if the list is long.

My Example: Writer, Actor, Journalist, Photographer, Marine Biologist, Zookeeper, Horse Trainer, Astronaut, Linguist, Musician, Film Composer, Chef, Food Critic, Artist (Painter), Sculptor, Animal Petter (hey I thought it was a real job), Storm Chaser, Cartoonist, Costume Designer, Veterinarian, Professional Athlete, Adventure Guide, Pilot, Florist, Cake Decorator, Scuba Dive Instructor, and there’s even more.

3.) Now list you’re current non-negotiable commitments, or things that you are absolutely not willing to change. These aren’t things that you can’t afford to do, or don’t know how to do, like your current job or location; you can change those things. These are more along the lines of, “I want to be close to my mother during her last days” or “I’m 55 and don’t want to jeopardize too much of my savings/retirement fund”.

My Example: I don’t want to move. I would like to travel, of course, but I still want my permanent home to be here in Billings. I’m also not willing to do anything that puts unnecessary strain on my relationship with my boyfriend (like housing 30 ferrets), or take on something that meant I couldn’t start a family in the next few years. In addition, I don't want to go back to school right now. I currently have three degrees and I need to put them to use before I get another one.

4.) Now cross off jobs on that list that would interfere with those commitments. This shouldn’t hurt too badly if you listed commitments you are honestly not willing to change. It might help to make a list of pros and cons, like this:

Job Pros Cons

Actor	--Do something different everyday --Get to be creative in generating new characters	--Not a lot of work in Billings, MT --99.9% of Actors are unemployed
Veterinarian	--Get to work with animals everyday --Pays well	--Have to go through a lot of schooling --Would have to euthanize
Professional Athlete	--Awesome Pay --Play a game for a living	--Not talented enough --Would have to move: MT has no professional teams
Cartoonist	--Make jokes for a living --Get to draw and color all day	--Can’t draw cartoons very well --Doesn’t pay very well
Food Critic	---Get to taste food ---Get to write	--Would need to attend more school, not knowledgeable enough about how to use my palate --Might have eat some disgusting stuff

What am I left with?

Writer, ~~Actor~~, Journalist, Photographer, ~~Marine Biologist~~, ~~Zookeeper~~, Horse Trainer, ~~Astronaut~~, ~~Linguist~~, ~~Musician~~, ~~Film Composer~~, ~~Chef~~, Food Critic, Artist (Painter), Sculptor, ~~Animal Petter (hey I thought it was a real job)~~, ~~Storm Chaser~~, ~~Cartoonist~~, ~~Costume Designer~~, ~~Veterinarian~~, ~~Professional Athlete~~, Adventure Guide, ~~Pilot~~, Florist, Cake Decorator, ~~Scuba Dive Instructor~~.

5.) Now let’s apply the results from the earlier survey to the jobs I have left.

Writer, Journalist, Photographer, Horse Trainer, Food Critic, Artist (Painter), Sculptor, Adventure Guide, Florist, Cake Decorator.

My Example: Fortunately, all of these jobs fit pretty well with my survey results. They all revolve around doing something creative and different every day. Plus they are all basically independent in nature. I doubt I’m going to find a job in the paper hiring for an artistic painter anytime soon.

6.) Now use common sense. Honestly, I have no experience as a Sculptor or Painter (even though I enjoy doing them) and there’s no way I could hold myself out as an Adventure Guide, I don’t have near the qualifications or the knowledge.

So what have I settled on pursuing? Primarily photography and writing (going back to my photojournalism roots). Yes, I understand that this is an expensive and difficult route (paid photographers make less than actors, on average) but it’s something I’ve been passionate about for years, as well as something I feel I would excel at. Having my own business (or working as a freelance writer) would allow me the freedom to make my own decisions, as well as the opportunity to be outside and travel.

7. So next comes the to-do list: 1. I need a new camera. Mine broke years ago and I’ve been scrounging with its remaining functions to just get average pictures. 2. I need experience, so last week I went door to door to every photographer in town asking if they needed an assistant. I explained that I would work for free, and after 2 days I found one willing to work with me. Check. 3. I need to come up with some kind of plan that breaks my goals into achieveable steps.

8. The last step is the plan. Personally, since I need a camera and experience I plan on still working at the psych center while looking for writing jobs and saving up money for that damn camera. In order to be considered a full-time writer, I need to be able to make enough money, weekly, that is at least equivalent to a paycheck I receive at the psych center.

Okay folks, so this has definitely been one of the longest posts I’ve ever written. Let me know if you use this slimmed down method to evaluate your own career decisions!

Babies Have It Made

2011-08-23T23:47:00.003-06:00

We leave tomorrow morning for Denver, for Wedding #3. I've been at my brother's since Sunday night visiting him, my sister-in-law and my little niece, who's almost 8 months old. I'm having a great time, but there's something that my niece (who I have described in previous posts as sarcastic and ironic) has brought to my attention: babies have awesome sh*t.

No really, they do. All their toys do, like, a bagillion different things (yes, I just used the word bagillion and 'like' in the same sentence; your welcome valley girls). Their toys move, sing, light up, and all the while, they're teaching you something. Are you kidding me? Put my chemistry lesson in a song and have it sung to me by a dancing, multicolored, light up elephant and I dare you to bet against me in a periodic table stand-off. Usually, my homework gets pushed to the last minute because I'm distracted by something with lots of lights and sounds (read: the television) so I don't see why something even more fabulously distracting wouldn't be a brilliant idea. Heck, it works for babies...

And when did everything in the adult world become so boring? Since I've grown up, everything has a "sleek" and "modern" feel. Well maybe I don't want "sleek" or "modern", maybe I want a phone that's bulky and bright yellow with pink and purple buttons. I guarantee I wouldn't lose it near as often. An elegant chandelier? How about a vivid and vibrant airplane mobile above the dining room table? And screw the silent, stainless steel kitchen appliances, how about a little music every time the refrigerator fills my glass with ice or water, or a fluorescent green stove with blue burners? Ones that change from blue to red to yellow depending on how hot they are. You know, color coded so people like me who, for some reason, completely ignore the fact that just because the burner is off it doesn't mean it's not still hot. Safety first, I always say.

And don't even get me started on clothing. I was wondering through Gap Kids today (which is ridiculously expensive by the way, I wonder how they sleep at night) and I couldn't help wishing I was still 2 feet tall. There was a little snowsuit with footies and mittens attached to the hands and feet, (attached!) with a fuzzy hoody and a built-in face-mask/windbreaker. Why don't they make those for adults? No not snowsuits with mittens and snow boots sold separately, the all-in-one deal, like they did back in the good ol' days when I was apparently...4.

And transportation? I'm even willing to temporarily chill the eff' out about the snail's pace my jet pack is coming along if someone will just answer my question of why the hell don't I have my own stroller? If I could find an adult size one I'm sure my friends and I wouldn't mind trading off with it. How incredibly awesome would it be to get pushed around the grocery store, attempting to cause as much destruction in the cereal isle as humanly possible with absolutely no consequences because, hey, you're in a stroller, you don't know any better. And if you were somewhere that takes forever to get your shopping done (like Wallmart or Costco, where they only have four cash registers open), you could cuddle up with your super-soft blanky and stuffed zebra and take a little nap. Thirsty? Hungry? Fear not, I'm sure any kind of satisfaction is but an arm's length (or a loud warning squeal) away. There are so many pockets and useful gadgets on those things I have no idea why I ever spent my money on luggage in the first place. My suitcase doesn't even have a cup holder.

This trip so far has been eye-opening. I need to get me some cool-ass baby sh*t, except for, you know, adults or something.

Something Borrowed, Something Broken

2011-08-21T01:44:00.002-06:00

Wedding #2 tonight, and the reception is still going on. So why am I blogging right now?

I mean, come on, I've been looking forward to this wedding. I traveled three hours today (on 4 hours of sleep) and all the while thoughts of drinking and dancing the night away filled my head. The mental picture of myself wearing my favorite polka dot "twirly dress" proved to be fantastic motivation to slightly break the interstate speed limit. Yet here I am, sitting in a hotel room, my "twirly dress" on a hanger, watching the World Series of Poker and sipping hotel water from a plastic cup. I barely even got to have any cake.

Well, sorry to say, my boyfriend got sick, so we had to leave early. I should be pissed, right? Oh please, not in the slightest. The truth is the wedding was beautiful, a picture perfect homage to the Montana lifestyle I love so much. Girls wore sundresses and cowboy boots and guys looked sharp in the nicest pair of jeans they owned. Dogs and little kids played in the background, and a fare of burgers, hot dogs, potato salad, corn on the cob and watermelon tasted perfect on a warm Saturday afternoon. A large tent filled with white Christmas lights cast a soft glow on tables full of beer cans as old baseball teammates told stories of when they all played together in college. I only wore my shoes for the actual ceremony itself. Not because they were uncomfortable, but because the feel of cool grass on my feet was too inviting to pass up.

So should I really even have anything to complain about? Sure some things went wrong, like the fact that I brought my camera but left it's memory card at home, but I can buy a disposable camera at a gas station tomorrow. And so what if I have a minor sunburn, since the ceremony was located in direct sunlight and my skin is one shade darker than your average albino...I'll pick up some soothing lotion when I pick up the disposable camera. It seems some sort of flu medication and a heavy dose of caffeine are going to be on the list anyway, so I wouldn't even be making an extra stop.

In all honesty, I don't mind being in the hotel room now, because I already experienced my favorite part of the wedding: watching the ceremony while holding hands with my boyfriend. It's as if the vows being recited are released into the air, then swirl about and settle upon those who also share in their meaning. Feeling him squeeze my hand and kiss my forehead as two people promise to devote their lives to each other seems to not only acknowledge our own devotion, but strengthen it as well. For a moment, we are in our own world, appreciating the rare level of happiness that can only be reached when one of us is in the company of the other. We're fortunate, and we know it.

So the rest of the wedding festivities, as callous as it may seem, are really quite irrelevant. Whether our time together is spent on a dance floor or spent in a hotel room, I'm grateful for it either way. Anything extra is really just icing on the cake. Delicious red velvet cake, I might add, and I look forward to more later in the week. But if not? No loss, I'll just make some when I get home. Besides, I really don't watch enough poker anyway.

Three Weddings And A Baby

2011-08-20T08:43:00.001-06:00

It's roadtrip time again!

Because of my boyfriend's insane schedule (he's a baseball coach for the university during the school year, then coach's legion during the summer) we have about 3 weeks before September to see some friends and family. So we're cramming it all into 8 days.

One wedding in Bozeman, Montana last night, another this evening in Belgrade, Montana, travel to Ogden, Utah to see my brother, his wife and my niece for 3 days, then Denver, Colorado for another wedding, then back to good ol' Billings, Montana for a little recuperation.

I'm always excited to see what goes wrong on a roadtrip, for some reason I always think that's part of the fun. And weddings are just awesome so...yeah let's get this party started.

Here Goes Nothing...

2011-08-16T14:40:00.007-06:00

Hello there, and welcome to what I'm sure will be the most personal post I think I may ever write. Go ahead, take a seat, stay awhile.

As you know, I'm in a bit of a dilemma at the moment. I'm torn between a career I've been going to school for and taking a leap of faith to pursue a few careers I've always been interested in, but have never had the balls to go for them.

I'm 6 credits and another internship away from finishing my Master's in Counseling. I've decided to take the remaining 6 credits this fall, and postpone the internship. That way I'm finished with all my coursework (which qualifies me for counselor positions) and any counseling job I decide to apply for in the future counts as the internship. That's the logical part.

Now for the crazy part...

I spent all day yesterday really putting some thought into what I want to do for a living, and why I chose to pursue counseling in the first place. It wasn't until a text conversation with a friend (who would be a fantastic counselor, btw) really put everything into perspective. "When was the first time you were really jealous of what someone else was doing for a living?"

What a great question! Jealousy is one of the most primal of emotions as well as one of the most powerful. If you're jealous of something, there's usually a very basic want or need that is not being fulfilled in your life. And why a person is jealous, can say loads about them.

Think about it, what are you jealous of? Are you jealous of your friend who is happily married and pregnant? I doubt it's because you're in love with her husband or think her growing belly looks sexy, it's more likely because you want to start a family of your own. What about your friend who has a new car and big house? Are you really jealous of all their toys, or the stability and freedom their income provides? The reason for a person's jealousy hits the core of what that person wants out of life.

So I thought about it. Career wise, when was the first time I was ever jealous of someone's career, and why? It took me under 4 seconds. When I was younger (I must have been 16?) I saw the movie Tomb Raider with Angelina Jolie. As a promotion for the movie, there was a bit on TV about how they filmed the action scenes. There was one in particular, where Ms. Jolie was swinging from the ceiling on a serious of ribbon-like ropes. In that second I thought to myself, "I want to do that."

Do what? Fly from ceilings and fight bad guys? No, not quite. Although that would also be a terrific experience, I'm not even sure how to make a resume for that sort of thing. No, no, no, I wanted to act.

I wanted to be a part of a story that moved people. I wanted the responsibility of having to learn something different for every job, to throw myself into a character other than me. I wanted the opportunity to be in different situations with different needs and different people. Something that was always changing. Something that revolved a story, whether real or not. I don't care about the long hours, the low income or the lack of stability. Hell the lack of stability is kind of a draw actually.

Did I join the drama team in high school? No. I was an athlete, and for me a sports scholarship was the only way out of my family situation. I put all my time and effort into softball, just trying to find a way out of that town. Drama, speech and debate, band, all of it was pushed to the side. And it stayed there.

And here's the kicker. Once you create an identify for yourself (whether it's accurate or not), changing that identity becomes quite taxing. Your entire social circle is based on how you portray yourself. For example, in high school I wore sweats and no makeup. When I went to college my freshman year I was the same way. I didn't even know how to wear makeup, much less heels or a dress. People knew me as the "tomboy". All of my friends were tomboys. That was my identity.

But then I started wearing dresses and heels. Not because I was pressured by other people, but because I had always wanted to, I just didn't know how. And it was embarrassing at first. I didn't know how to walk in heels, it felt awkward to wear makeup, and I thought people were judging me in dresses. But secretly I loved it. It was the first time I felt could express who I was by what I wore. I loved how all of a sudden I became a woman instead of a guy with boobs. I had a sense of style. Sure I still love my sweats and still wear no makeup the vast majority of the time (I'm still the same girl), but I now I have another component of my identity. And I love it.

It's the same problem with my career. The real reason I went into counseling? Honestly? Because I was comfortable with it. I was comfortable with people telling me horrific stories of their childhood because I had been there myself. I had empathy for them. I worked at a psych hospital because it's what I was comfortable with. I've been dealing with irrational and violent people my entire life; getting paid for it just seemed like second nature.

So what am I getting at? This: I feel I'm in a career that I started because I was comfortable in it. It came naturally to me, so I kept along that path. I asked myself this, what dream counselor position am I jealous of?

Hmm.......

None. A nutritional counselor would be pretty cool, but it's not what I want to do. It's what I feel I'd be good at. What about a forensic psychologist? Sure that would be interesting and challenging, but it's not what I want to do. As you can see by this recent post, even before I started having troubles in my job I knew I had made the wrong decision. I mean who writes that when they've supposedly finally reached their career goals?

I think my hobbies and my career interests were switched a long time ago. I wanted to major in music or art, but was told those were hobbies. I was interested in psychology and nutrition, and was told those were "career options." I was 18, listening to people "who knew best". So I did what I thought I was supposed to do.

Well folks I'm not 18 anymore. I'm 26, and I'm done making excuses. I'm taking an acting class this fall (along with my 6 credits) just to see if I like it. Maybe I'll hate it, and then I can cross that off my list. But maybe I'll love it...and then who know? Don't worry, I'm not filling my head with anything, I just want to make sure I cover all my bases before I lock myself into anything.

I'm excited. And by excited I mean terrified...but also excited.

Have you ever taken a leap of faith? How did it turn out?

Feeling Better, But Still A Bit Rambly

2011-08-14T23:27:00.004-06:00

Well after the news I received on Friday, my boyfriend and some of his friends took me out to cheer me up. Four guys' idea of softening the blow of losing my job came out as golf, beer, and a combination of chicken wings and jalapeno poppers. I'd say it worked. Tomorrow is Monday, and there's no feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I'm already excited to sleep in, go to the gym and get some errands done. My motivation for the week has been refilled. Funny, my training in mental health has equipped me with the ability to recognize the symptoms of depression and anxiety, yet when I was clearly displaying them myself (loss of sleep, loss of interest in daily hobbies/activities, change in appetite, feelings of sadness/guilt) I didn't recognize them. Glad I'm out of that mess.

Having said that, I feel like I'm in a strange situation. I'll give you the rundown, but mostly for my own purposes of trying to keep everything straight in my head rather than explain it to the world. So feel free to skip this next paragraph if you're really only in this to leave a quick copy and paste comment at the bottom. It's okay, I won't judge you. I've done it before too.

In short, I have 23 credits left to be able to finish both my Master's degree and the requirements that qualify me to obtain my LAC. Of those credits, 12 of them are internship. I am still registered to complete an internship at the same place I was just hired at, but was told they typically give intern positions to people they want to hire in the future so...well I think I know how that's going to turn out. Meaning I have nowhere set up for an internship. In order to finish my Master's I only have 6 more credits...but that's still a couple thousand dollars.

I also still have my old job pulling night shifts at the psych hospital (I never officially quit when I got hired), but it's per diem. They haven't needed me in the last 2 months, but since I had the ice cream truck I wasn't complaining. Now that school's about to start in 2 weeks, I'm getting nervous. If they don't need me to work, I don't work. No hours mean no money, and no money means no school. I'm done with student loans, remember?

So it's crossed my mind to take a semester off. I know what you're thinking. No - wait - hang on - just - let me finish. I know what happens to people who take semesters off. They never finish. They move...or join the military...or get pregnant. You never hear from them again. Well don't worry, I'm not going to be one of them (famous last words, right?). But the thought of possibly working 8 hours every two weeks combined with the fact that our roommate moved out last month has made me rethink how I should spend what little money I do have saved.

With one exception.

See during the three weeks I had a job, one of the (awesome) counselors I met gave me a little bit of advice. He said, "In this business, you have to find something on the side to throw yourself into. Otherwise, you spend every day working with mentally ill drug addicts, and you begin to think everyone in this town is either crazy or on something." Well said. Plus it made me realize this: I have nothing that I throw myself into anymore. It's school and work. That's it.

So I took his advice to heart. I thought about everything that I used to enjoy doing. I came up with a million different things; writing, taking pictures, cooking, playing sports, writing music, painting, singing, dancing - and the list goes on. So many things, and I do none of them (save writing, I guess blogging falls into that category). But I decided to narrow it down a little by asking what all these things have in common, and I think it's this: they all involve doing something creative and new, and something that typically scares me.

Writing music, painting, dancing; these are all forms of self expression put into the world for others to collect as their own, and then turn and twist to fit their own purpose. People aren't judging the song I just played for them, they're judging a piece of my soul I've made vulnerable through the music they've just heard. Sometimes they don't connect with it, and that can hurt a little, but sometimes they do, and that moment can never be duplicated. Maybe that's why I originally went into counseling...to connect with people.

So it's all pretty up in the air right now. Basically I just want to find a small time job that has absolutely nothing to do with counseling. Something simple that can pay some bills and get my mind off things. I'll see what I end up doing this fall. And besides that, I want to try something new. Something creative that scares me. Any suggestions?

Lesson 11: Blessing In Disguise

2011-08-13T09:31:00.014-06:00

Well I got fired yesterday. First time ever. Brutal.

I really can't say I was surprised. I couldn't help but have this overwhelming feeling that I'd been hired as part of a sick joke, and everyone was waiting for me to quit. The first week I felt awkward, but I tried to convince myself it was all a part of just being new. By the second week I was excluded and ignored, then after my boss "had words" with me, I felt like everyone was confused that I kept showing up. If I asked a question I was ignored, and if I made a statement I was met with condescending stares and then a rapid change of subject. The pit of my stomach grew heavier by the day.

Finally, when my boss made a snide comment yesterday morning about whether or not I was "capable" of doing an aspect of my job (something an 8 year old could've done), it was that last straw. "It's a shame you feel I'm incapable of doing my job," I said. "Because I know I am fully capable of doing it, and doing it well. If this is how it's going to be than you need to make an executive decision because I'm not going to be bullied into quitting."

Well apparently an executive decision was made, because as of 2:00 yesterday afternoon, I was told I "Just wasn't a good fit." No sh*t I wasn't a good fit. I was miserable. I've been losing sleep for the last two weeks. I typically go for a run or a swim everyday, but the last 14 days? I've gone twice. On Tuesday my boyfriend and I were driving around town looking at future dream houses when he said, "I wish we lived in that house." I replied with, "I wish it was Friday," and started crying.

Here's something that will put it into perspective. Last Wednesday, after finishing five hours of typing while incarcerated in my solitary cubicle, I opened my notebook and wrote this:

There's nothing quite as depressing as the sound of silence in a cubicle.

The incessant buzzing of the air conditioner and the relentless squeaking of a run-down office chair fills the air, broken only by the telltale sound of an employee attempting to surreptitiously remove the Ceran wrap from her late lunch. Fingers scurry across keyboards, mouses click, and chipper voices answer phones with that identical artificially caring voice they've used for the last 10 years. I sit in the back, as close to the only window as possible, undaunted by the measly view it provides. The sight of the adjacent building, just two feet away, is the only connection I have to a world outside my own. This, ladies and gentlemen, is my nightmare.

I have decided that an office is the ultimate prison; one designed to keep its prisoners willingly confined, brainwashed by the sight of the strategically placed metaphorical carrot just inches beyond their grasp. I feel as if I have signed a contract without reading the fine print, ushered ahead to the next important benefit while passing over the sacrifices needed to reach said benefit. Even the fluorescent lights above flicker to remind me of the task at hand, like the most effective of prison guards; jarring and emotionless.

I stare at the computer screen before me and click my pen against my teeth, the scent of Windex and carpet hanging in the air. This is not my computer. This is not my desk. This is Patty's desk, and hers is the bar to which all following cubicles will be measured. Her functional knick-knacks confuse me, and I feel even more out of place. A container of goo meant to make your fingers sticky (for turning pages) and a bottle of Germ-ex sit directly next to the keyboard. I do not own a bottle of Germ-ex. I welcome the dirt and grime of the natural world. Oh how I long for the touch of grass...

Next to a colorful array of pens (the likely only allowed form of creativity or self-expression), is a palm tree post-it note container, symbolizing the relaxing beach she has probably desperately been saving her vacation days for. Everyone knows Patty doesn't like to travel though, her cat gets car sick. It's a shame, really. She has months worth of vacation days saved up, and her cat no doubt could benefit from a day outside its one bedroom apartment. Her planner hangs on the cork-board to the right, rows of assignments filling it: typing, filing, interviewing, typing, staffing. Every summer this will be how I spend my time. I am the next generation of Patty's.

But the most disheartening trinket of all, is the digital calender on her computer that displays a different "inspirational phrase" daily.

Today's? "Smile. I like your sense of humor." Wait, what? A computer is telling me it likes my sense of humor? I have already discovered that no one in this particular job likes my sense of humor, so it's ironic that a computer would have that opinion. Rather, I think it's mocking me. Mocking my lack of humor and instead exposing my dutiful, uninspiring appropriateness that has replaced it. Within three weeks my wit has given way to internal cynicism. I used to be funny.

My stare is broken by the flicker of the fluorescent prison guard. Back to work. Deep breaths...

So it's safe to say I'm quite relieved to not have to go back on Monday. Also I believe I have now developed an irrational fear of palm tree post-it note containers.

New Page: It's OK

2011-08-11T22:04:00.002-06:00

So since I've had so many incredibly crappy days this week (read this if you're at all doubtful) I've added a new page to my blog. I'm calling it the It's OK page, and it's pretty much a list of everything I do that makes me feel guilty that shouldn't. So I'm going to keep doing them anyway.

I'm sure you have a similar list. So what's yours? Let me know, I might add them onto mine!

Lesson 10: I'm A Big Kid Now

2011-08-10T00:03:00.006-06:00

I got my ass chewed out at work today.

Not just chewed out, but completely shredded. Now I've been in situations where I've had a boss yell at me, critique me, and sometimes flat out demoralize me, but today was different. I was completely unprepared for it, and to put it bluntly, it pissed me the hell off.

Now before you go off reading with a horrible taste in your mouth, know this; I do appreciate my boss's directness. She doesn't sugarcoat, and while I'm sure she's never even heard of a "compliment sandwich", I think those kind of people make the best supervisors. I'll summarize, but this is it. Quotes are authentic, and I promise you, there is no exaggeration.

Boss: "We need to talk."
Me: "Okay, what about?"
Boss: "I have some concerns."

Point 1: "You are inappropriate in your comments with staff. It is apparent you have no filter, and it leads me to believe you also have no filter when associating with clients."

Point 2: "You are completely unprofessional in your attire. You dress yourself in a manner that leads others to assume you don't know what you're doing."

Point 3: "You're lack of knowledge about the DSM-IV and the (guidelines for residential treatment) is astounding. After your internship here and your orientation I would've thought you would be more versed by now."

Point 4: "You are clearly unable to build any kind of rapport with the clients. I have serious doubts about whether or not I can even put you in the schools in the fall. I think you need to go home and do some soul searching and figure out if you are even capable of being in this field."

Boss: Okay?
Me: Yup.
Boss: Okay.

Wow. Am I on American Idol and did Simon Cowell just tell me my singing voice could be used as a biological weapon in a third world country? No? Are you positive...because I'm pretty sure every egg I had in my employment basket was just crushed by the weight of my future hopes and dreams. See, there are basically four aspects of my job: working well in a team setting, professionalism, knowledge of mental illness and addiction, and building rapport with clients. I not only just miserably failed in each and every category, but I also left no remaining categories untouched for me to think I have at least done something right in my time there.

What confused me even more, is that fact that during my 10 week internship, counselors asked me daily if I was hired yet. My internship supervisor was the one that pointed out this job, stating I would be fantastic at it. Furthurmore, I've never, ever, even gotten so much as a talking to in previous jobs. Typically, I'm commended as one the best, hardest working employees they have. In graduate school, I've maintained a 4.0 GPA while working full-time night shifts. It seemed odd to me that within 1 1/2 weeks of being hired (at the same place I've been interning at) that all of a sudden I would let all of my professionalism, appropriateness and work ethic go completely out the window.

Nonetheless, she is my boss, and if she feels I'm lacking I need to take care of it.
So I went back to the main treatment campus and checked out some videos on the guidelines of treatment. Seven hours worth. Think I don't know my sh*t? I sure as hell will by tomorrow. Then I cried in the car, dried my eyes, and headed back to her office 30 minutes later. Let's do this.

I caught her on her way to her car:
Me: Hey! Can I talk you a second?
Boss: Um, sure.
Me: No, not here. In your office.

That's right, I had some stuff to say damnit and I'm not doing it out in a parking lot. Professionalism, what? Point - Marlee

Me: "First of all, if there has been any comment that has been made, I deeply apologize for it. Never at any time while I have been here have I even remotely thought I was being out of line. I guarantee you I have never over-shared anything about myself with a client, and I pride myself on that. Can you give me an example of what was said?"
Boss: "Well it's just hearsay from staff."
Me: "Have I ever said anything inappropriate to you?"
Boss: "No."
Me: "Well then I'm sorry, but I can't recall saying anything inappropriate to anyone else either. I really need to know what it is so I can fix it."
-Skip to the point, basically I had told a staff member I thought I had been pregnant once, but I wasn't, but I was glad my boyfriend reacted excitedly rather than upset. However, that particular comment was said after a pregnant woman (in a group of five other pregnant women) asked if I planned on ever having kids. I replied with, "Maybe someday. I thought I was once, but I wasn't. I'm glad my boyfriend was excited about it though!"

I apologized and explained maybe this comment was out of line, but it was after working hours, and I was probably just trying to fit in. 90% of the conversations in our office are about being pregnant, raising kids, giving birth. I figured I'd never be able to say anything as inappropriate as an employee describing her sister's C-section in extreme detail, so I said the one thing I thought I remotely had in common with these women. Plus, hey, they asked.
Boss: That's understandable.
Me: "Second of all, if there is anything I have worn or done that has been deemed unprofessional, I need to know what it is. This is the first time this has ever been mentioned to me during the 10 weeks I've been here, or at any job, for that matter. I don't have the money right now to go out and buy a brand new wardrobe, so I've been trying to make what I have work. I have also been basing what I wear on how I see other people dress in the office, so if my perception is off, or there is a specific article of clothing that is out of line, I need to know about it."
Boss: "Actually I think you dress really nice."
Me: "But you said earlier that I dress unprofessional..."
Boss: "Well, maybe your top."

(I was wearing a sweater with a tank top underneath. You could see roughly a 4-inch triangle of cotton fabric underneath the sweater, and the top 1/4 inch of the tank top was lace."
Me: "Is it too low cut?"
Boss: "No, not at all. I guess the top of it is kind of lacy?"
(Update: on the day she let me go, the other woman in the office was wearing an complete lace tank top layered under a lace sweater. Hmm...)
Me: "Nothing lacy. I can work with that. Third of all, I do know the DSM-IV. I know that book front to back, inside and out, cover to cover. I know every illness in there, where to look them up, and how to diagnose using the criteria. I don't know the codes off the top of my head yet, but I will learn them. I am not familiar with the (state treatment guidelines) because I was never oriented or trained on them. Today was the first time I have heard of them. I have asked some employees and they mentioned something about some videos in the library. I've checked them all out and plan on spending tomorrow watching all of them.
Boss: "Absolutely. That's very proactive of you."
Me: "And lastly, I apologize if for some reason it appears that I am struggling to build rapport with these kids. In my job at the hospital, I am one of the best for building rapport. Other staff members here have praised my interview skills with the kids. Each evaluation has given me great feedback, and I've put that feedback into practice the next time.
Boss: "Well you were described as very scattered..."
Me: "Can you define 'scattered'?"
Boss: "Flipping from page to page of the assessment instead of following it exactly as it is written."
Me: "I don't understand. The counselor you had be observing did it that way."
Boss: "Who did you observe?"
Me: "Pocahontas (fake name)."
Boss: "Oh, shoot, that makes sense. Pocahontas has ADHD. She's very scattered. You were clearly taught a very disorganized way of doing things. I'll have you observe Mary Poppins later this week."
Me: "Thank you, I think that would be very useful."
Boss: "Well I'm glad you came back, this has shown a level of maturity I look for. I've never had anyone come back after I talk to them. They usually just avoid me the rest of the week."
Me: "Well I want to make sure I address whatever needs fixed immediately so neither one of us are wasting our time. See you tomorrow?"
Boss. "Yup. Okay."

And then I burned the building to the ground.

Okay I made that last part up, but if I were reading someone else's "ass-chewin" story and they ended it like that I would feel a little better. I still feel a bit off-kilter, I mean the woman told me I need to do some soul-searching to figure out if I can even make it in this field. That's a bit harsh. Plu,s when I did ask for details, she seemed to be grasping at straws. If I'm failing in my job I want specifics, not generalizations.

And while I'm still liable to break down into tears any second now, the point is this: I defended myself for what I thought needed defending, I asked for specific feedback instead of settling with generalizations, and I found a way to measurably improve the skills I was lacking in. I still feel like crap, (I'm sure no one ever feels good after someone tells them their completely inadequate) but hey, life goes on. I'm a bit scarred, and for the most part I won't be disclosing anything related to myself to any staff member for a good, long time. They can just think of me as some nomad or drifter with a counseling license for all I'm concerned.

Please tell me someone out there has been through something like this? Preferably someone who did burn the building down?

Boredom Leads To Zombie Questions

2011-08-07T02:51:00.011-06:00

I did nothing today.

Well I guess I did a little more than that...I did make a turkey sandwhich and do some dishes. At one point it even crossed my mind to do some blogging, but I thought it might interfere with petting my cat so, well, the blogging lost out.

I actually started off this morning with a self-professed brilliant idea, only to have my initial jolt of inspiration be short lived as soon as Mila Kunis mischievously began making eye contact with me from the cover of my roommate's GQ magazine. Just seconds earlier I had been blogging my little fingers away at a speed that would give Mavis Beacon a run for her money, but one distracting glimpse from Mila with her fashionably casual bedroom attire and delicious looking latte and my entire motivation was shot. God she's hot. Eff you Mila, it's not July anymore, you're old news. (Just kidding Mila you're never old news. I like your hair, so shiny...do you ever come to Billings? I love you...what?)

Also now I want a latte. Let's see where this post goes...

As of right now, I've watched the majority of the movie Predators in bits and pieces. I like it. Luckily I've got my boyfriend next to me explaining all of the nuances and throwbacks to the original Predator, so that was helpful. Then he found War of the Worlds and decided to watch that all the way through, the Resident Evil after that.

It was a good day.

Got me thinking though. Actually movies like Independence Day, 2001: A Space Odessey, The Day After Tomorrow, iRobot, 2012, or 28 Days Later always get me thinking. And I know I may get eaten alive on this one (pun for later, you're welcome) but...just hear me out...have any of you ever kind of, I don't know...wanted something like that to happen?

Right, definitely shouldn't have put that in writing. Anytime now I'm sure the feds will be knocking on my door to ask me a few, um, "questions" regarding my personal views on mankind. But it's too late now so let's address it.

What I'm saying is every once in awhile I wish something would happen similar to some of these movie plots that would test how I would really act. Something like a minor alien/zombie/robot invasion. That way I'd know if I'm adequately trained for the real deal. So far I've been in a couple high pressure situations, and I acted instinctively (and correctly), but there were no flesh-eating corpses, mind-scrambling extraterrestrials or homocidal machinery nearby at those times (at least none I was aware of).

As far as zombies go I like to think I'm overly prepared (and I am), but that's another post for another day. Aliens or robots though? Not so much. It seems they vary from movie to movie, whereas zombies have clear cut rules (destroy and/or remove the head, if you get bit you're a gonner). So far all I've learned about robots is there's always a master server that needs to destroyed, and with aliens some sort of biological warfare (virus) is probably the best route to take.

Oh yeah and don't bunker down with Tim Robbins, that guy's a nutcase.

So what about you? How do you think you would do in an alien/zombie/robot invasion?

Wedding Season

2011-08-05T21:28:00.002-06:00

I love weddings.

I know, I know, from the perspective of someone who is financially struggling, weddings may seem frivolous, selfish, and over the top. But here's how I see it: it's your wedding, do whatever the hell you want. If that means you cut into a fire breathing wedding cake then damnit pony up the extra dough and get creative with the extinguisher party favors. Theoretically it's only for one day, right?

Well not quite. Thing is, when you're in my situation, a huge extravagant wedding is completely out of the question. It's the equivalent to the down payment on a house, or a car, or a medical bill. Don't feel bad folks, I'm happy without it. Personally, if my boyfriend and I ever do decide to get married (the chance of which is decreasing in rapid proportion to the increasing number of people pressuring us to do it) I don't want a huge wedding. I'll probably buy some white summer dress I can wear again, have it altered to fit like a glove (read: splurge) and then invite everyone I care about to laugh and dance the night away.

We'll probably go with some kind of potluck dinner. I don't see anything wrong with potluck; if you ask me it makes everything more personal. I'd be honored to have my grandma's infamous potato salad on the menu. Plus considering my significant other brews his own beer, the only thing we'll really have to worry about is providing enough wine for my rambunctious Italian/Spanish Basque side of the family. And in that case I'm willing to shell out the extra cash for a good show.

Trust me, it'll be worth it.

But until then, I'll get my kicks going to others' weddings. Since I don't see myself having a "night to remember extravaganza" anytime soon, I get super excited to attend someone else's. Plus there's no stress. You don't have to worry if the table linens are ironed, if the caterer only brought vegetarian, if the music might be offensive, or how drunk the bridesmaid that refused to wear strapless is going to get even though you really didn't want to include her in the wedding party in the first place but because she's your mom's best friend's daughter you had to play nice and now you kind of hope she gets sh*tcanned and goes to bed early...ungrateful little..

Oh sorry,where was I?

Oh yeah, weddings, love 'em. And I've got a couple coming up! They're location means a road trip from Billings, MT to Elko, NV to Salt Lake City, UT to Denver, CO and back to Billings. Road trip + two weddings + mini family reunion = a righteous good time. And probably some decent material to blog about.

But in the meantime, I am still a girl, which means any situation warranting the necessity of a mirror can churn up some self-conscious negative comments swirling in my head:

"It's been awhile since you've seen these people, have you gained weight? No? Well it doesn't matter I'm sure they've all lost weight so..."

"Freckles and frizzy hair...can't say that trend ever really took off."

"A green dress? Really?"

Eh, the little voice can talk all it wants. My freckles are awesome, that green dress is one-of-a-kind and besides, I've got other things to think about, like pictures, dancing and cake!! I'm going to have a damn good time, and if my frizzy hair and skinny friends try and get in the way, well I guess I'll just have to give them a good flame-retardant spray-down with my new favorite party favor :).

Am I Normal?

2011-08-03T23:42:00.010-06:00

It's happening again.

Recently I had to get a new car (it's a long story) but I don't like it. It rides too smooth and turns with ease. I miss my old Plymouth Duster with no front brakes, a broken speedometer and a leaky roof. I want it back. I feel like it was an extension of myself, something that had been to hell and back and still survived. I named my new car Karen. She is a sleek and shiny '02 Ford Taurus with no dings or dents. She hasn't been through any hardships. She also yells at me to put my seat belt on or when the keys are still in the ignition. I'm a big girl Karen, I don't need your help.

We don't get along. Naggy, bitchy Karen. I miss April and her crooked headlights.

I've also started a new job in the last 2 weeks. The job itself is fantastic, I'm already falling in love with the kids I work with. Adolescent drug addicts tend to get a bad rap, and I'm their confidante as well as their advocate. One teacher I met on the first day said, "Hello! So how do you like working with the druggies?" "Oh I'm sorry," I replied, "I don't know any druggies. Did you mean students?" Burning bridges? I don't care; the kids deserve better.

I see so much of myself in these kids. Their backgrounds, their struggles, their suffering. I see my 14 year old self fighting tooth and nail for some dignity or proof that I am worthy of something. For a chance to be myself. For anything.

But in the last two weeks I've changed. I have a shiny new car, a name-tag, and professional clothes that I wear to an 8-5 job. I'm now a productive member of society. I belong to the group of statistics that labels me a "success" as opposed to my childhood label of "high risk". I've been stamped, categorized, and approved. Domesticated. Like a caged animal.

It's my worst nightmare; people looking down on me with white coats and smiling faces, "There we go, now isn't that easier?" They stare at me like a child. "See how nice we are when you stop fighting? Just follow the rules and life will be easy. Trust us, we know what's best for you." They've fixed me. They hand me a blue ribbon with a smiley face and the words "First Prize: Submissive and Obedient".

I hate it. I yearn for the day when I could run away from home. Hitchhike my way to another city, feel the wind run through my fingers, the rain in my hair and just be alone. Funny how running away when you're an adult is more difficult than when you were a child. Responsibility, rather than authority, ties you down.

In all honesty, I ache for a chance to get out. For a chance to feel like myself again. To feel any sense of adventure and defiance in order to convince myself both characteristics haven't completely deserted me. I feel like a sell-out. Trapped. Condemned to a life of order because the logical side of my brain has convinced the wild side that a life on the road would be less desirable.

But I still want it.

I see the black pavement laid out before me each day on my way to work, and the urge to just keep driving is always there. It doesn' matter where to, I just want to drive. To leave. To feel like I am still in control. To feel like I am still free.

Maybe I'm weird.

The only thing holding me here is my boyfriend. While he doesn't understand, he is still supportive. When I said I was going to Italy, his first question was, "When?" instead of "What? Why?" He knows my need to run is overwhelming, but he doesn't question it. He is also aware of my deep seated fear of being tied down, which is why he has stood by me when others pressure us to get married or buy a house. He is the only thing I have never had the urge to run from.

The view out my window only shows house after house, with neatly trimmed hedges and large cottonwoods strategically planted 50 feet apart. Kids play, dogs bark, old men water their lawns. It is peaceful.

Am I such a horrible person not to want this? Not to yearn for the day when I push a stroller up the sidewalk while comfortably jogging to a familiar mix of songs on my IPod? Or to save my money for a new camera or Rosetta Stone instead of hair treatments and shoes? To excitedly look forward to the day when I am backpacking around a live volcano instead of planning family BBQ's around one of my children's birthdays?

Am I being selfish? I don't feel unappreciative of what I have, but am I acting like it?

Health Food Conquest: Quinoa Take Two

2011-08-01T07:24:00.003-06:00

Confession time...

So remember how I said I was going to try and come up with some new recipes for generic "health foods" that most people are terrified of? Well I really did mean to, but after posting that last quinoa recipe, (with roasted veggies, parmesan cheese and basil) I got a litte sidetracked. Not because I ran out of ideas I just...well it turns out I am so in love with my last recipe, I haven't tried it any other away! I've made minor adjustments here and there, like adding butternut squash or sweet potatoes instead of zucchini, and it's all golden. Honestly, I eat quinoa now probably a good 4 days a week because I'm absolutely in love with it. It's incredibly filling and when cooked correctly, it tastes fantastic.

Oh and a sidenote? I've lost 2 pounds.

However, I promised you all multiple ways of trying this healthy ingredient, and so far I haven't delivered.

So tonight, folks, I'm delivering.

I'm officially having a quinoa cookoff, and my roommates are my judging panel. You'll be happy to know that none of them are health fanatics, and prior to this taste testing they already had their fair share of leftover pizza washed down with a beer or two (to "cleanse the palatte", of course). The recipes were rated on the following scale:

1 - Eww, oh my god, horsesh*t in my mouth.

2 - Better than horsesh*t but I'm still pissed you made me eat it.

3 - Health food

4 - Eh, Okay. I'll eat it, but I'm not impressed.
5 - Okay I kind of really like this.
6 - Really friggin' good.
7 - Move your standing in my way of seconds.
Shall we get started?

Roasted Corn Salsa Quinoa

Without the quinoa, this makes a fantastic dry salsa recipe, but add the quinoa and you have more of a sidedish.This is awesome served in a tortilla as a typical salsa/rice substitute. I fill my tortilla with roasted veggies (I use zucchini and red peppers), black or pinto beans, some roasted corn salsa quinoa and a scoop of greek yogurt. Sounds wierd, I know, but try it. Just once.You can do it, and it's worth it.

1/4 cup quinoa

1/4 cup low sodium chicken stock
1/4 cup water
1 cob of corn (roasted)
1/4 red onion
1/4 cup cilantro
1/2 can fire roasted tomatoes
1/2 a jalepeno, seeds removed (or 1/2 mini can diced jalepeno)
red wine vinegar (to taste)
lime juice (to taste, I barely used 1/4 a lime)
garlic salt
mesquite seasoning (basically some kind of steak seasoning that contains cumin)

Cook the quinoa according to the directions, using chicken stock and water instead of just water. Mix water, stock and quinoa together in small saucepan, bring to boil, turn down heat, cover and simmer for roughly 15 minutes, keeping an eye on it. Should end up fluffy, like rice. Set aside.

Roast the cob of corn on the grill. Personally, I just grill a cob of corn until the kernals slightly char, but here's a better way if you have the patience: bend the husks back and remove the silk, brush the corn with butter, pull the husks back up and grill it, turning until the entire outside is slightly charred. Let it cool slightly (easier to handle) remove the husks and stand it up on one end. Take a knife, and run it down the sides, cutting off all the little kernals. Go slow, or the kernals fly everywhere. (Or if you're really a clean freak, take a small bowl and turn it upside down in a larger bowl. Stand the corn cob on the bottom of the smaller bowl and cut the kernals off, they should fall right into the larger bowl. Less mess!)

Dice the red onion and cilantro, and add it to the corn, along with the fire roated tomatoes and jalepenos. Add barely a bit of red wine vinegar and barely a bit of lime juice. Season with garlic salt, pepper and mesquite seasoning to taste. Done!

Makes 1 serving: 280 calories

Verdict: Two 5/7's and one 6/7. So a couple 'okay I kind of really like this' and one 'really friggin good'. I'll take that!

I think the ingredients put them off a bit in the beginning (it put me off too to be honest) but they ended up giving it pretty good reviews. However, they did all unanimously agree that this would be probably be better in enchiladas or burritos as a rice/salsa filler than as a gneral side dish.

Sweet Curried Quinoa

I have no idea where this recipe came from, it was completely out of the box. I know nothing about Indian food, so I really don't even know why I had curry in the house. Nonetheless, there it was, initiating a staredown every time I dared enter the kitchen. And if there's one thing I know it's this; I never, ever, back down from a challenge. Especially when it's issued by a jar of curry.

1/4 cup quinoa

1/4 cup low sodium chicken stock

1/4 cup water
1/2 Tbsp curry
1/4 cup slivered almonds
1/2 cup diced dried apricots
1/4 cup sliced scallions
garlic salt
onion powder
thai spice mix
cinnamon (optional)

Make the quinoa as I mentioned above, except add the curry, some thai spice mix, cinnamon and a little onion powder (maybe 1/4 tsp? 1/8?) to the stock, water, and quinoa. Set aside.

Dice your scallions and dried apricots, and add to the quinoa along with the slivered almonds. Now add your garlic salt and barely any lemon juice to taste.

Makes 1 serving: 392 calories. This is higher calories, due to the almonds and dried apricots, but they're good calories, so don't stress! Plus the almonds really fill you up, so if your like me, you might not even end up eating a whole serving.

Verdict: One 3/7, one 4/7's and one 5/7 - My boyfriend (3/7) openly admitted he rarely likes anything combining fruits and nuts, but he did try it. My other two roomates weren't super impressed, but still ate it. Maybe not my best, but like I said, not a lot of Indian/Thai food comes through our house.

Greek Quinoa

Back to what I know. Besides the next recipe, this was the favorite.

1/4 cup quinoa

1/2 cup low sodium vegetable broth

1/2 cup quartered cooked artichoke hearts (the ones in the can are fine) chopped

~6 pimentos

~5 olives

~8 sundried tomatoes

crumbled feta cheese (1cubic inch, crumbled)

1 tsp capers

1/4 tsp hot sauce

1/4 tsp greek or mediteranean spice mix
basil, oregano, and parsley to taste
lemon juice to taste

Make the quinoa as previously stated with the vegetable broth and spices. Add remaining ingredients, and wait to salt until you're done. Between the capers and feta cheese, things can get pretty salty. But otherwise, adjust as you want, it's your recipe! My boyfriend likes this one with a bit of chopped pepperoni (which I admit was a brilliant addition), so let your mind run wild!

Makes 1 serving: 412 calories (remember, higher calories are coming from healthy ingredients, like the sundried tomatoes and olives).

Verdict: 6/7 - Everyone seemed to like this one a lot. Especially with the salty capers and feta cheese. I'd mix a little olive oil and lemon juice like a vinagrette and drizzle it over the top, but I didn't here and it still turned out great! Maybe even some fresh basil, but that's just me.

Pesto Cauliflower Quinoa

This one is especially easy, but to make it truly delicious, make your own pesto. I had it with cauliflower one night, and then added broccoli another, but tonight I had only cauliflower in the refrigerator (plus, in general, my roomates are more receptive to cauliflower than broccoli), so that's what I was going with tonight.

1/4 cup quinoa

1/4 cup water

1/4 cup low sodium chicken stock

1/3 cup pesto

1 cup chopped cauliflower

Pesto Recipe

Combine in food processor: 1/2 cup pine nuts, 4 cups basil, 2 cloves garlic, 1/3 cup olive oil, and 1/3 cup parmesan cheese. Pulse until it looks like pesto. Don't add salt until the very end though, parmesan cheese is pretty salty on it's own so you probably won't need much.

The great thing about pesto is you can adjust it how you want. You can add pistachios or walnuts instead of pine nuts, add some parsley with the basil, or maybe even a touch of mint. Maybe some sundried tomatoes? Do with it what you want! Personally, I probably double the amount of pine nuts, I just love the flavor of them! To make it a little less calorie dense I use low sodium chicken stock to thin it out a little, that way I don't have to add as much olive oil.

So for this recipe, I made the quinoa as listed above and then steamed the cauliflower in a separate pot. Then added them together with a scoop of pesto and tada! Pesto Cauliflower Quinoa.

Makes 1 serving: 440 calories, but once again, the high calorie count is mostly due to the olive oil, nuts, and parmesan cheese.

Verdict: This actually got two 6/7 and one 7/7! It was definitely one of the favorites, with the 7/7 going to the roomate who openly expressed the day before that he would eat anything if pesto was on it. Of course when the pesto is homemade, it sure makes a difference!

Let me know if you try any of these, I'd love to know what you think!

Worst Weekend Date Ever

2011-07-29T20:52:00.012-06:00

This afternoon I turned the television on to find an episode of Sex and the City. I've hardly watched but a few episodes of this show, being in a position as far as possible from the fashionable men-hopping NYC friends of Ms. Bradshaw, but I do think we have one thing in common: I have also been on a horrible, horrendous meet-the-family weekend date.

So for your amusement, here is probably the worst introduction to a significant other's family. You're welcome.

My ex and I had been miserably dating for roughly a year, and he decided it was time I met his mother and two sisters. I didn't want to meet his mother, she had already made it very clear that he should've stayed with his previous girlfriend since she had paid for everything in the relationship. I didn't. He's a big boy he can pay for his own sh*t. This was going to be a very good time, I could feel it.

It started out as an 8 hour drive to Rock Springs, Wyoming. It was hot, and the air conditioner in my little car has never been it's big selling point. Halfway through the trip we somehow got into an argument about the health benefits of running. He thought it was extremely harmful to one's health because, and I quote, "The heart rubs up against the rib cage, wearing it out." There's really no way to argue with that.

No really, I tried, there's no way.

It was a long drive.

We arrived at a hotel. I thought we were staying with his mom, but this got my hopes up as I preferred to see her as little as possible. But when we walked in I learned the hard way: she lived in the hotel. We were staying with her, in her one bedroom one bathroom room. All the vents in the room were covered with duct tape because she was a chain smoker, and the hotel owner slept in the room above her and could smell the smoke. I started coughing the second I walked in.

So there were 5 of us all together, him (we'll call him...Pen Cildick), his 2 sisters, his mom and me. We started with the usual chit-chat, how was the drive...good, good...real hot out today...sure is...scored some cocaine an hour ago...oh that's nice...wait, what?

I didn't know if I was hearing anything correctly, I was trying to breathe through the small crack in the window as her cigarette smoke swirled - no, scratch that - stagnantly hung in the air. My eyes burned, my throat hurt, my skin itched and I felt like I was dying. This must be what trapped in a burning building feels like. Only I've heard you pass out after inhaling a certain amount...why wasn't I passed out yet?

After 4 hours (not exaggerating) Pen and his mom decided they wanted to go to the bar down the street to catch up. His sisters and I (one was a year older than me, one was 14) wanted to stay in the room and watch movies. I could do that. They left for the bar, which they said you could see from the hotel window.

12:30 a.m - The phone rings. I answer.

"Hello?"

"Yes this is so-and-so (the owner of the bar) and these two are tearing this place apart, either come and get them or I'm calling the cops."
"I'll be right there."

We (me and his little sister, who was the only one from Rock Springs who knew where the bar was) get there to find it's really only a gas station with 3 bar stools in the back. The actual space designated for drinking was hardly bigger than a public restroom. When we were 10 feet from the door, Pen bursts through it, throwing himself onto the hood of the pickup out front. "We're driving!" he shouts. "No," I reply, "we're walking. We didn't bring the car." "We're walking!" he screams at me, as he flips me the bird. But he can't walk. He can't stand up. He leans on me, bringing me to my knees. I finally figure out how to balance his weight with mine and we start taking one small step toward the hotel room. They were right, it's a straight shot from the hotel to the bar.

"That's mine, that's mine, that's mine..." he points to piles of puke outside the bar. "That's mine too. Oh and that one.." Fantastic. Behind me, I can hear his little sister trying to keep his mom turned in the right direction toward the hotel room, but she has to stop and pee, and there's a garbage can right there. How convenient.

A cop drives by. He pulls over. Of course.

He's 6'8" easy, and stands in front of Pen. Pen is laughing. "Is there really a cop standing in front of me?" he giggles. "Yup." "He's so big! Are you sure he's real?" He motions to the cop with his head in that drunk I-think-I'm-being-sneaky way that cops probably see all the time. "Yeah he's real."

He asks for our ID's. Pen doesn't have his. I don't have mine either. "I wasn't drinking," I explain. "I didn't think I needed it to go get these two. We just live right there." I point to the hotel. "Room number?" He asks. "Oh I have no idea, " I reply. "We're just staying the weekend." We go in circles. He doesn't believe that I wouldn't know the room number we're actually staying in. The room number that two people are living in. My frustration is growing.

Pen in trying to dance. I can see the hotel, we're so close.

Four more cars pull up. Three of them are all black, and men in suits get out of them. What is happening? I think to myself. Haven't I seen this on Men In Black? The men in suits were introduced as the DEA. Whatever, I didn't believe them. I was convinced someone around us was an alien. Any second now they're going to get out those little memory erasey thingys...

They surround Pen, invading his dance bubble. I could hear his mom screaming at them, claiming she wanted a cigarette but one of them had stolen her lighter. That sounded logical.

Finally, one of the cops agrees to let me take Pen home while they question his mother. I struggle to walk him the rest of the way to the hotel, but I don't know which room number is ours, so I drop him off in front and decide I'll figure it out later. Bad idea. After I start heading back, I hear BAM! BAM! BAM!

I turn around and see him going door-to-door, banging on every one. Soon people were coming out into the street. They're angry. Pen is singing. A few cops run over to him, put him in handcuffs and sit him down on the ground. People are asking questions. His mom is yelling. Pen switches from singing to screaming, shouting and crying so they put him in the back of a cop car.

To sum it all up, they let them both go, but I had to deal with both of them being sick, belligerent, and smoking in the hotel room all night. Both him and his mother were completely hungover (read = total a**holes) the rest of the weekend, which meant they wanted to sleep all day in the hotel room. So that was fun. We headed home and he asked if I liked his mom.

What?

Is it any wonder we eventually broke up?

Road Rage Retaliation

2011-07-24T20:43:00.005-06:00

Folks I'm going to be completely candid about something here:

I am a horrific driver. I mean downright awful. I fully admit there is no reasonable excuse for me to ever be behind the wheel of a vehicle. I'm too daydreamy and scattered. Shiny car next to me? Someone riding a bike? Butterfly? An interesting cloud? The fact it's a Wednesday? All treacherous. I've been in eight (count 'em, eight!) accidents (I'm 26 years old) and in all of them I hit an immobile object.

Go ahead and read that again and let it sink in, I'll wait.

...eight accidents...I caused all of them...hit a non-moving object...Done? Good. I've plowed through fences, parked cars, street signs, mailboxes, barriers, garage doors, and that was in March. My one exception is when a deer hit me. No really I was parked letting them cross the road and one random, blind, superhero of a deer came darting out of the woods and slammed into my car. I take no responsibility. Well on second thought my car was green so...maybe it wasn't entirely the deer's fault. But still...it should've known better.

So when I'm in traffic, and someone pulls up next to me screaming obscenities and making non-friendly hand gestures, I don't generally argue. I figure whatever they're yelling about, they're probably right. I probably did do something stupid, I just haven't realized it because I'm too terrified to take my hands away from the 10 and 2 position. For the most part I just grovel, apologize, and keep driving while assuming I'm probably dragging a small tree behind me.

But every once in awhile, someone comes up next to me acting so overwhelmingly immature I can't help but mess with them a little bit. I know, I know, in this day and age anyone can get killed for any reason and road rage isn't all that surprising of a motive, but like every other person on the planet, when someone is mean to me I want to defend myself, and I've found the most frustrating form of retaliation when someone is acting like a complete a**hole is to act like they're complementing you. Seeing fury mixed with dumbfounded confusion and neck veins is always rewarding, regardless of what they're actually saying to you. And a few days ago, the opportunity presented itself:

Driver: "WHAT THE %#@ DO YOU $;(% THINK YOU'RE *#;$ DOING? YOU *$%; JUST $#%^ ;(%** $%^&*^%!!!

Me: "I'm sorry, did you need directions?"
Driver: "NO I %**% DON'T %^# %^* DIRECTIONS YOU #$%$%&%$ **($^!!!
Me: "Oh yeah that's on the left straight ahead."
Driver: "$% *(^) *%($ #%^!!!!
Me: "No that's going to be a left, not a %^*."
Driver: "%^*%^(^*%( (*$%^!!!!"
Me: "No, left. *^% is out on Broadway."
Driver: "%^*$(^*$*!!"
Me: "Red building, and it's no problem! You're welcome!"
Driver "%*^*#%*#(#*$@(!!!!"
Me: "Well I highly doubt they're closed, it's not even noon."
Driver: "YOU $%%^ LITTLE *##$%^(*^%&* *$%(^*$ ($*#!!!!!! #*%&^*(# *#$*!!!!!!"
Me: "Oh how sweet of you to notice, I have been working out!"
Driver: "$%(^*%()@#$%^$!!!!"
Me: "Well swimming mostly, you know, because it's been so hot lately."
Driver: "*$%* $*#$ *$(**@*(#$*%*)%(*$!!!!!!!!"
Me: "Aww, well aren't you just adorable! Such a sweetheart!"

I don't know, sometimes I just can't help myself.

So be honest now, do you have a favorite retaliation technique?

Oh and by the way, I've been spotlighted over at Amber's blog, Confessons From Boystown. Click here if you want to check it out!

Great News!

2011-07-24T02:28:00.010-06:00

Well everyone, I have great news: I got a job!

I've officially been hired as a School Based Drug Counselor for 2 high schools in my area. I'm ecstatic, of course; I get to work directly with kids who may be at a crossroads in their life, so hopefully I will be able to make a difference. Even if that light at the end of the tunnel is still light years away, I may now be able to at least feel some of it's warmth on my face.

This does, however, present a bit of a problem for my blog. I hold myself out to be a college student living far below the poverty line (which I still am) but this job brings me a little closer to the actual poverty line. Not wanting to mislead my followers, I've been contemplating the theme of my blog. I presented the question to my boyfriend the other night:

Me: What do you think I should write about? I am still budgeting, and I am still in college, but...

Boyfriend: Well write about whatever you want to write about.

Me: I have to have a theme, don't I?

Boyfriend: Seinfeld didn't have a theme.

Me: Touche.

My boyfriend makes a excellent point (he usually does), and coupled with the fact that I live in this lovely little town known as "Reality" (perhaps you've visited?), one very important lesson of life comes to mind: Time is an illusion. Do what you love now, because later may never be. With that in mind, I like knowing what I'm getting when I visit my favorite blogs. I like knowing I can count on some for a laugh and a pick me up, and on others for fashion advice. My own passion, however, lies with nutrition and travel.

A favorite hobby of mine is remaking comfort foods in nutritious ways. I usually figure if my beer drinking/mac 'n' cheese loving baseball coach of a boyfriend approves, I'm probably good to go. In our house, I am a legend. Garlic mashed potatoes? Chili? Lasagna? Bring it on. I like to think I'm a regular ol' Iron Chef of nutrition.

Also, in my mind, I've traveled the world countless times. Plus I own a car, so...according to that bulletproof logic, I consider myself fully qualified to write about travel.

So shall I combine the two?

I think I just might. But, regardless of what I end up writing about, I hope my love of sarcasm and awkwardness will still show through. Quick question though, when you visit my blog, what are you hoping to find?

Fighting Impulsivity

2011-07-21T21:20:00.004-06:00

Yes, world, I am stalling. Sue me.

I am purposefully wasting my time in the hopes that something brilliant will materialize in my mind and then show up on the computer screen in front of me. I have 3 papers to write for my current online class, but am I going to do them tonight? No. Am I going to pretend to do them? Probably not. I'm probably going to end up making some chocolate pudding, taking a shower and watching HGTV reruns.

Except that this is a horrible idea. See right now, HGTV is airing a show called House Hunters International, following 2 girls from Sweden looking for a surf-house on the coast of France. I'm home alone with a bowl of chocolate pudding, which is often the prequel to most bad decisions. No one logical within an arms reach, no one to stop me...I could go to France right now if I wanted to...

Deep breaths, Marlee. I'm going to Italy this coming spring, and I have found the first lesson of travel (as applied to me, anyway) is to calm down. It is going to be okay, France is not going anywhere, and right now neither am I.

And now I am sad, so just in case, maybe I should get another survey going for country #2? Yes I'll think I'll do that. After Italy in the spring, where should I go next? Remember now, you vote and I go. See the poll on the right!

Ah yes, I feel much better now.

Healthiest Boredom Foods

2011-07-19T01:31:00.010-06:00

Are you a boredom eater?

No? Really?

Are you unable to watch TV without munching on something? Is the excitement of a road trip partially due to potential gas station snacks? Do you use food to pass the time at an especially boring job? How about when you can't sleep at night, do you find yourself perusing the refrigerator?

Be honest now...

That's what I thought.

I'll admit, boredom eating is a tough habit to break, or as I explained in this post, Psychological Aspects of Weight Loss, a tough habit to cover up. But while you're trying to break it no sense it completely blowing it any healthy progress you've already made.

First of all, we all know it's never a good idea to eat any time other than when you're hungry, but c'mon, let's be realistic here. Sometimes you're going to be in positions where the option of taking a break to get something to eat is basically non-existent. I understand what you're going through; I drive around in a little truck for 10 hours a day, remember?

So what exactly makes a good boredom food? Basically, something that takes up a lot of time while also adding up to a fairly low calorie count, and a really good boredom food combines the physical activity of destroying something with comfort of getting a treat for your troubles. Something small, where either your mouth or hands are busy the entire time, taking care of the fidgety part of the brain that so desperately needs to be satisfied. In general, you want something that is the opposite of potato chips. Think about it, you can scarf them by the handful and they are essentially a collection of everything that's bad for you; calories, fat, oil, sodium, preservatives...(No, I'm not going to allow you some leeway here by saying 'Hey, at least the potato part is good for you'. There's no leeway. They're horrible for you, accept it and move on.).

That may have hurt a little bit, but I promise, it's going to get better. So here's a list of foods much more appropriate for some mindless boredom snacking. I'm not condoning it, but it's better than the alternatives.

1.) Low Sodium Sunflower Seeds in the Shell

Sunflower seeds are a fantastic boredom food. Besides the fact they're loaded with Vitamin E (which in short means they protect against free radicals, among other things), they are rich with specific anti-oxidants in charge of lowering blood sugar levels, as well as protein to satisfy that little bit of hunger you may or may not be experiencing.

Plus a rather large back usually has roughly 2.5 servings, at 190 calories per serving. So even if you down the whole package (which you will probably only make it through half) you won't be seriously destroying your day's healthy eating habits. Not too bad if I say so myself. Oh and get the low sodium kind. Trust me, you won't miss the extra salt.

2.) Cherries

Cherries are packed with Vitamin C and fiber, but they're especially useful as a night-time snack since they've been rumored to help regulate your sleep cycle. They're sweet, tart, firm and juicy, and 3 cups (let's be honest, boredom snacking never really gives way to portion control) contain only about 230 calories. Win-win, if you ask me.

3.) Steamed Edamame Beans

You may have never had this one, and I wish I could describe to you what edamame (pronounced eh-dah-MAH-may) tastes like, but it's a pretty specific thing. The way I'd have a hard time explaining the way coffee tastes, or licorice. Personally, I absolutely love eating them as a snack, but when put into stir fry? Eh, I prefer them to be left out. Everyone's different though, so I'd say give them a shot.Who knows, you may find yourself completely addicted.

You want to buy them in the pod (as soybeans), then steam them with a little salt and pepper and let them cool. Then if you need to snack on something while watching television, simply focus on getting the beans out of the pod. I'm not even going to go into the nutritional value (it's ridiculously high, google it) and 1.5 cups of shelled edamame beans come to about 330 calories.

4.) String Cheese

This one isn't so much trickery as it is just plain ol' fun to take your time. I know very few people who scarf string cheese in a few bites; most play with it like they did in their elementary school cafeteria, making it last as long as possible. So bring out your inner child and appreciate string cheese for the prize it is: roughly 150 calcium filled calories of glorious time-consuming wonderment.

5.) Pomegranate Seeds

A perfect example of time-consuming and low-calorie, pomegranate seeds are perfect for Sunday movie night. They're just sweet and tart enough to keep you coming back for more, but considering the work you have to do to get to each individual seed, even a whole pomegranate (a "whopping" 105 calories) will probably last you through an entire two hour movie. Plus they're a great source of potassium and vitamin C, meaning they're perfect for a day relaxing sore muscles.

6.) Melon - Not Already Cut Up

This is my personal favorite. When I've had a bad day, I cut a watermelon (or cantaloupe, honeydew, etc) in half and sit on the couch with a spoon and go to town. It takes a lot of work to dig out your own portioned bites, and when you're done you can pick at the rind and graze what you can that's left. As an added bonus, melons are mostly water, so in turn you're going to end up flushing out a lot of unhealthy crap in your system, like preservatives or salt. And being generous, 4 cups of watermelon has roughly 200 calories.

So feel free to go to town with any of these options, sans the guilt and negative side effects. What healthy time-consuming foods do you eat?

Five Words You Don't Hear Enough

2011-07-18T03:00:00.002-06:00

"It's only a 4 page paper, I just don't understand how to do the calculations is all. Can you help me out?"

"Email me what you have," I texted back. "I'll run through and make sure you're using the right formulas."

Fact of life: I have a hard time saying "No." It's just a few formulas, I'll look it over. This was after I had already gone to the gym, done the dishes and prepped some food for dinner later tonight. I finished my own 8 page paper on cognitive dissonance/situated cognition and turned it in before 10:00, took a shower and gathered my things for a day running the ice-cream truck.

11:20 - My first customers. Three teenage girls driving a 2008 Ford Focus. "Do you have anything that's strawberry?" asked Girl #1 without even looking up from her phone. "Sorry," I said. "I have huckleberry? Would that be okay?"

Girl #2 rolled her eyes. "Eww," she said. "That sounds disgusting." Girl #3 clearly agreed. "Let's just go to Dairy Queen," she whined. "This sucks."

Great start.

1:26 - It hits 100 degrees.

3:30 - I ran by my friend's house to check on her cat (being she was out of town for a few days). After seeing she was out of food, I went home, put some of my cat's food in a little baggie and brought it back. That should last her through the next few days.

4:30 - Made a routine stop at a house with 5 kids with Cruella DeVille for a mom. She only lets them have anything if I give it to them for free (yet she clearly has enough money for her cigarettes), so I usually give them a few popsicles and tell them not to tell their mom, hoping one day she might cough up some change to cover the weekly dent she makes in my donation jar. Wishful thinking, I know.

4:42 - It hits 102 degrees.

5:35 - a man stops me in traffic to say his dog is missing, and if I see it on my route to give him a call. He gives me a phone number, address, and description of his dog. I tell him I'll keep a lookout.

6:45 - I head home to grab a bite to eat. Checked my grades. 87% for my paper? I'll take it. Also the air conditioner has leaked all over the carpet, so I put a bowl underneath is and clean up what I could. I'll get the rest later.

7:30 - I find the missing dog. I call the number but no answer, so I take it to the address. She's a hyper Border Collie named Bella, and secretly I want to keep her. He's not home, but his neighbor, an elderly woman, screams at me and accuses me of trying to steal this man's dog. I explain I'm actually bringing the dog back, but she just shakes her fist at me and walks into her house. I wait another 10 minutes when he pulls up. Crisis averted.

8:20 - I realize I forgot to refill my water bottle when I stopped by my house. I'm out of water and I've got an hour left. Oh well.

9:30 - I make my last round through a familiar neighborhood and am waved over by a little boy and his dad. After pondering the choices he chooses a chocolate ice cream sandwich. Good choice. He gives me the money and takes his frozen treat.

"What do we say?" asked his father.
"Thank you," replied the little boy.
"Aww, you're welcome bud!" I said back.
"And what else do we say?" asked the father once more.

The little boy looked up at me with big, brown eyes bordered by long lashes and said with compete sincerity five words I haven't heard in years:

"You're doing a good job."

Thank god I was wearing sunglasses. "Oh, wow." I stuttered, trying not to cry, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

They smiled, his dad dropped $0.50 in the donation jar, and they went back into the house. There I sat, completely dumbfounded and on the verge of tears.

You're doing a good job.

Honestly, when's the last time someone has told you you're doing a good job? Not insinuated it, or hinted at it, but actually told you you're doing a good job? Personally I can't remember the last time, but I know for a fact there are people out there who don't hear it enough, and I'm sure you're one of them.

So for today, Monday, the start of the week, I'm asking you to take a second in the mirror and tell yourself you're doing a good job. It's true, and you don't hear it enough. Hell maybe even let that waitress working the 4 a.m. shift know too, I'm sure she hasn't heard it in years either.

Stupid And Crazy: And The Winner Is...?

2011-07-17T14:08:00.002-06:00

Italy.

It looks like you all have spoken, and have chosen Italy as the random country I will be taking a trip to. I'll pretend I'm not ridiculously excited that Italy was the winner, but between you and me? Fantastic choice.

I'll admit my mind is running away with me just a little bit. I can envision myself now; sipping red wine with a plateful of spaghetti while rendering an exquisite freehand sketch of the Colosseum, saying something brilliant to passerbys like, "Ringrazio la mela dopo la mezzanotte".

In reality I'm pretty sure the phrase above translates roughly into "Thank the apple after midnight", and I'll probably be so hungry, tired and lost that I wouldn't recognize the Colosseum even if I ended up sleeping next to it. Eh, all minor details.

But before I get to ahead of myself I'm afraid I have some news for those of you hoping you to get a blog from me in a week or so from my return trip: it looks like I will be postponing my trip until the spring.

Complete bummer, right?

Not exactly. Life happened and I had to account for it. Here are the main reasons the trip is being delayed:

1.) Our roommate is moving out. In two weeks. To move in with his ex-fiance, from 4 years ago, that he just got back together with 3 weeks ago. It all happened pretty suddenly, and my boyfriend and I can't afford the rent on our own. We might have a more affordable a place opening up by October, but it's all still up in the air. I simply can't justify spending $1060 on a plane ticket to Italy when that money might be all that's standing between us and being evicted.

2.) Then after school starts (September 7), there's no vacation options of any kind until December, due to my full-time internship. I've been approved to take 23 credits this fall so I can graduate as soon as possible, and when you're taking that kind of course load, a day off is a luxury you can't afford. Plus, it would be a pretty lousy trip if I was stressed over school the entire time.

So when is the best time to take a trip to Italy? According to one family member who has traveled there numerous times (and the Internet): Spring. March-Aprilish. Apparently it's gorgeous, the weather is in the high 60's-low 70's (Fahrenheit), and there are no tourist crowds to compete with. August-Septemberish? Excruciatingly hot (90-100 F), fanny-pack photogs everywhere, and not to mention a little bitty holiday known as Ferragosto where everyone heads to the beaches and central Italy basically shuts down.

I think I may have actually dodged a bullet.

So what have I learned from all of this? My first rule of planning a trip: calm down. I was so excited to go I probably would've gone at the worst time of year. By worst I mean hottest. I can handle cold, I'm a Montana girl, but too much heat and I start melting like the Wicked Witch of the West. Plus, this way I may even save some money instead of spending and then scrounging to make up for it.

The point is, it's an expensive ticket. Why not get the most out of it? My trip is set for the Spring, thanks for voting!

But in the meantime, please vote in the poll on the right as to which activity you are most interested in learning about. (See this post for explanation). You choose, I do!

Dress Code

2011-07-14T20:29:00.006-06:00

You've all heard the saying...

"Dress for the job you want, not the job you have."

Or in my case, "Dress well enough to avoid being sent home to change."

I try, but lets make a quick run-through the list of my previous jobs during college and the attire required for them:

1.) Landscaping/Plant Nursery: Any clothing that is already destroyed, or is on the verge of being destroyed.

2.) Bartender: Anything that shows off my...um...anything that is sure to help bring in the tips.

3.) Cherry Cannery Factory Worker: See description #1.

4.) Housekeeper: See description #1.

5.) Night Shift Hotel Clerk: Anything as long as it doesn't fit description #1 or #2.

6.) Night Shift at the Psychiatric Hospital: Scrubs.

7.) Ice Cream Truck: Whatever I want. It's my freakin' truck.

As you can see, I've never had a job that warrants me owning anything that can be considered "professional work attire". I have one pair of gray pants, one, and even those are three sizes too big. As my boyfriend recently put it, "Babe, unless you're planning on being a 'gansta counselor', we need to find you some pants that don't look like you just escaped from some sort of juvenile detentional facility."

Point taken.

Although I must say I think I've done a fairly decent job of stretching my wardrobe. At the start of my internship, I resorted to wearing my coat (a respectable looking plaid trenchcoat) the majority of the day because it meant I could wear the same outfit two or three times in a week without anyone noticing. People judge you for wearing the same outfit everyday, but not the same coat. Sneaky, right?

But as the summer heat rolled in, my trusty wardrobe savior became irrelevant, and I was forced to bow in defeat to the 90 degree weather and leave my coat at home. Finally, it was clear to all that I would be rotating through the same clothes all week, which the staff jokingly referred to as my "uniform". Might as well grab my Ninja Turtle lunch box while I'm at it. Oh the joy of being instantly recognized as the intern...

Through all of this though, I have found myself undergoing a kind of fashion transformation. In general, I can't say I've ever found myself attracted to "work" clothes. They seemed boring and constricting, stuffy and unoriginal. But the closer I get to getting an actual job that reflects the level of education I've completed the more I find myself drooling over blazers, pencil skirts and structured vests. In short, I now see them as a badge of honor: I am no longer the lowly intern, but someone who deserves to be there, knows what the hell I'm doing, and damnit I want to look like it.

Being a 1940's and 1950's fashion admirer (and a rather, ahem, 'busty' girl myself), I notice I'm gravitating to shows like Mad Men mainly for the fashion inspiration. When my most recent issue of Cosmo had Christina Hendricks on the cover, I took it as a sign from the fashion gods.

I must go shopping.

However, today was the last day of my summer internship (30 hrs/wk, unpaid) which means the need for professional work attire is no longer urgent until I start my final internship this fall (46 hrs/wk, unpaid). I've begun applying for jobs in the hopes that one of them will count as an internship where I may actually be paid for my time (please please please pleeeeeease hire me...), but I know it's a long shot.

Regardless though, I know it's just one step closer to having a job I've spent forever earning, and therefore one step closer to being able to afford the clothes that display it. Heck, maybe in another semester I might actually look like a responsible adult with a real grown up job and everything!

Oh c'mon, I can dream can't I?

Love and Baseball

2011-07-11T23:20:00.001-06:00

As I have mentioned in previous posts and comments, my boyfriend, the love of my life, is a baseball coach; which means that I, by default, am a baseball fan. Accepting his sport of choice was not difficult for me, being as I can enjoy pretty much any activity grounded in competition and I myself was on the university softball team.

But I never expected I would enjoy it as much as I have. Frankly, I never expected to fall in love with the game of baseball, but I've found there's something incredibly beautiful about a summer game under the lights. The way the bugs swarm around the giant lamps, how each hit echoes throughout the park, and how it never really seems to cool down. A personal favorite of mine is the way the music comes on when a coach walks onto the field to argue a call. It's slightly comical to watch two grown men intensely squabble while the song "Mustang Sally" fills the air.

I guess I'm drawn to the atmosphere of it all; like a huge family bbq where anyone is welcome. The 15 and 16 year olds on the field are like gods to the 8 year olds who line the fence and call out a hitter's name, just hoping they'll turn around and make eye contact. There's a gaggle of 4-7 year olds racing around the park everytime a foul ball is hit, and there's always an 80 year old man somewhere in the crowd, telling stories of the game back when he was playing.

Usually, I park my ice cream truck outside the gate and sit on the roof, cheering with the grounds crew (baseball dads), eating sunflower seeds and passing out frozen treats to kids that know to look for me. After the game (win or lose) I usually sit with my boyfriend as he, the other coaches, and the umpires have a couple beers, relive the game, and watch Rover, the head coach's 12 year old black lab, run through the field chasing rabbits and large moths. He always looks so proud if he ever actually comes close to catching anything.

Sometimes, like last night, the dad's, coaches and umpires will all stay long enough for a sloppy game of "drunken baseball", and I get to watch grown men relive their glory days. Since my boyfriend was a pitcher for the university team, they often line up to take BP off him. Seeing dads swing and fall while umpires hoot and holler is always worth the 2 a.m. hour it usually lasts to.

Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky, to spend my lazy summer nights atop an old ice cream truck, watching the man I love do what he does best. I may be broke, weary and behind on one to-do list or another, but as far as I'm concerned I just don't see how it can get much better.

Lesson 9: Go Easy On Yourself

2011-07-03T21:40:00.002-06:00

The other day I had the itch to do a some serious shopping. And I mean the kind where you clean out your wallet in a whirlwind frenzy, then spend the rest of the afternoon trying to think of some excuse that would justify you wearing all of your purchases at once. I needed to binge, and my mind was racing with every article of clothing I had to have, scratch that, needed to have in my new fantastic wardrobe I've been working on since I lost 6 pounds. I'm not going to lie, I was probably foaming at the mouth a little bit.

Folks, I was prepared to do some damage.

So I took off, alone and slightly crazed, fully expecting to receive a thank-you note in the mail sometime next week for substantially boosting the local economy of Billings, Montana. I walked in and out of vintage shops, shoe stores and specialty depots. I found summer dresses on sale, ballet flats half off, and an entire bin of old scarves. I tracked down vinyl records, picture frames and wall art all in the "not that bad" price-range. There was even a stray puppy who clearly needed to come home with me. Well he was attached to a leash, and someone was holding it but...all minor - and irrelevant - details.

Basically, I found a goldmine, but at each stop that little downer of a voice inside of my head clicked on, reminding me of the ticket to Italy (or wherever the poll on the right sends me) I'm saving to buy. I returned home having not purchased a single item, but as soon as I sat down in the comfiest chair in the house a familiar feeling crept over me, rushing over me from head to toe:

Guilt.

The guilt you feel when you purchase something you can't afford. Now being the struggling grad student I am, a 'purchase I can't afford' can be loosely defined as anything costing the equivalent of a bagel, but in this case my guilt was completely unwarranted.

I hadn't bought anything.

Oh, come on! What, now I'm feeling guilty for looking at stuff? For walking around and staring in windows? For trying on shoes? Bullsh*t. First of all, it was looking at me, and second... what the hell?

When I was little I remember my mom examining some sort of cooking equipment. "Buy it!" I shouted, my little 6-year old self just excited to see the magic that happens when you hand someone green paper and they hand you a coveted object. "No, " my mom said. "Don't you want it?" I asked. "Yes, " she replied wistfully, "but I don't need it."

I have become my mother. I not only tell myself I don't need something, but I also punish myself for ever wanting it in the first place. Now, just the act of wanting something is reason enough to trigger the wash of guilt that would typically come with an "undeserved" purchase.

I refuse to live the rest of my life this way. With everyone else out there probably judging me at one time or another, shouldn't I be batting for my own team? I think I'm a rational person, and I feel if I want something I should be able to think through the pros and cons of purchasing it and then make an educated decision. More importantly though, I need to remind myself that it's okay to want something, regardless of how expensive. I need to be able to tell that little voice inside my head to just screw off once in awhile.

"Yes, condescending little voice, I want a jet ski. Always have, always will. They're effin' fun. Get over it."

I'm not going to go out and buy a jet ski right now or anything, but someday when I do I want to feel excited about it, not guilty.

As a matter of fact, I think I do want to buy those little ballet flats I saw. They were only $2.48, is that so bad?

Oh sorry, I forgot: I don't give a damn.

I Was On The News!

2011-07-03T10:16:00.002-06:00

Well not exactly me I guess, but my mom was featured with our ice cream truck! I had my internship all day so I couldn't be there, but here's the link to the news clip and the video. That's my mom demonstrating how the ice cream business is done!

http://www.kulr8.com/news/local/Ice-Cream-Truck-Keeps-Tradition-Alive-124748909.html

Finals Week = War

2011-06-30T23:42:00.006-06:00

Dear Week Before Finals Week,

Look, I know we're going to end up spending a lot of time together next week, but please don't read too much into it. You were kind of a jerk to me last time we hung out, and I haven't forgotten it.

Wait - let me finish.

Now for the sake of my final grades, I'm willing to be civil, but I don't want you getting any ideas. If I had it my way, my final grades would have nothing to do with you, but that doesn't seem to be the way the system works. I'm sorry if that stings a little, but I think I should be honest with you. You deserve at least that much.

Hoping we can still be friends,

-Marlee

P.S. I'm going to bed now. Please stop calling me, it makes you look desperate.

See Finals Week and I actually get along quite well, it's the week before that tends to kick my ass. During Finals Week I usually have one huge exam in every class, but I try to take all of them on the first day. The way I see it, I buckle down for one miserable day of test taking and then the rest of my week is free. Great in theory, but it makes for a seriously stressful week before...which is next week.

Let me shed a little light on the mystery that is the week before finals.

See I usually end up spending far too much time on the computer, which means that at some point (probably by Tuesday) I'll end up going crosseyed. During this time I will begin to put more effort into stalling than actually doing my homework, which will result in an overload of useless information (dancing chipmunks!) to my already ground-to-a-pulp brain. At some point, the frustrating monotony of coursework I have now deemed completely useless will probably push me into savant territory, where, still in my attempt to stall from studying, I may even turn out some seriously impressive blog-work (though I doubt it). Eventually, my lack of sleep, combined with dehydration and an overabundance of helpful cats will most likely cause me to have some kind of a minor stroke, and soon after my roommate will find me lying facedown in the kitchen, cuddling a tear-stained empty bag of Oreos.

I didn't say it was pretty, I'm just trying to warn you.

I still have one class left of course...some measly thing that's sure to hang around until the first week of August, but the thought of my courseload dropping from 18 credits to 3 has me frothing at the mouth...soooo clooooose...

So folks, if you get a rather bitter post in the next few days, don't take it personally. I am approaching the Doomsday that is Finals Week, and I have my game face on. This could get ugly.

Health Food Conquest #1: Quinoa

2011-06-28T21:00:00.006-06:00

So here we go, experiment #1: Quinoa. Pronounced keen-wah. I've known of it's existence, but I've never tried it. Sounds like some kind of fruit, if you ask me.

First of all I should lay a little brick on this subject. Quinoa (as typically bought in the grocery store) is basically a seed. In more detailed terms it's actually a relative of leafy greens like swiss chard or spinach, but you'd never know it. Imagine tiny little brown seeds in a box. Not that appetizing, I know. But get over it. It's incredibly nutritious, with 1/4 cup containing 6 grams of protein, 3 grams of fiber, and only 172 calories. 1/4 cup dry makes about 1/2 cup cooked (maybe even a little more). It's gluten free, and considering it's low number of calories in relation to nutrients like magnesium, iron, and phosphorus, it's an incredibly nutrient-dense food.

I know, I know, I get it. Besides the obvious nutrient content, why do you care? Let me put it this way: it makes you full, quick. It's an adequate protein source for vegans, and the amount of magnesium it contains has been shown to help things like migraine headaches and diabetes (specifically, insulin regulation).

Now I can spout off all this nutritional information 'till the cows come home, but the fact remains that if it tastes like dried up marshmallows shoved in an effin' cigarette box no one is going to eat it. So I tried it tonight, with some adjustments.

First I made it just how the box said, I just cut the amount in half (as I would be the only one eating it). The box says to boil 1/2 cup quinoa with 1 1/4 cup water, reduce to a simmer until it absorbs the water (about 15 minutes).

The verdict? Tasted like shi*t. I'll admit it, the texture was pretty good though. Fluffy, but with a bite. Definitely unique, but the taste was so bland I actually felt insulted for a moment. That's right, insulted by a seed.

So for the second time, I made it with chicken stock instead of water. Muuuuuuch better. "That's not too bad at all," said my boyfriend, with a surprised look on his face after eating the fork full I shoved in front of him. "I'd eat that." Alriiiight, now we're talkin'. Score one for the crazy hippy in the kitchen.

Now the main issue with foods like this (rice, pasta, etc), is we tend to eat way more than just one serving. One way to combat this is to fill as much space as possible with low calorie healthy alternatives. That way, no matter how good it is, it doesn't turn into an absolute calorie bomb if you decide to overindulge. So for this, I decided to go the vegetable route. One medium zucchini, for example, has about 30 calories. That's it. That's a helluva space filler.

The best way, hands down, that I've found to get the most flavor out of your vegetables, is to roast them. Chop them up, but them on a frying pan with some olive oil, garlic salt, pepper and onion powder, bake at 450 degrees for 15 minutes and you're golden. Tonight, I had zucchini, yellow squash and baby tomatoes in my 'fridge, so that's what was going in the quinoa.

After the veggies were done roasting and the quinoa was done cooking, I combined everything together, and added a bit of lemon juice (to taste), some grated parmesan, and some chopped basil. The end result? Not too bad at all, if I do say so myself. Actually, the more I ate it the more proud of myself I became. By the third bite, I was in pure quinoa heaven. This stuff is fantastic!

Oh but here's the kicker folks...that whole "it makes you full" claim? Totally true. I planned on just making this for a side dish, and having something else as the main entree, but after I finished eating my side dish, only half of what I had made, I couldn't put another thing in my mouth. I was stuffed. And it's a different feeling than if I had just gorged myself, it's just...I don't know how to explain it. I'm just not hungry anymore. I'm sitting here blogging and watching baseball on TV, my roommate and boyfriend eating a plateful of spaghetti, and I don't have a single urge to get up and help myself to some noodles and sauce. Odd, but I'll take it!

Another great thing is you can add pretty much whatever you prefer. Want more of a "chicken soup" feel? Add some baked chicken cut into bite size pieces, and some roasted carrots and celery. Finish with some fresh thyme and parsley. Maybe go Greek, and add some artichoke hearts, olives, sundried tomatoes and feta cheese, lemon juice and salt and pepper. I even found a recipe with dried cranberries and cashews. I'm going to try that tomorrow night. Frankly, I'm looking forward to it. Why they heck have I never tried this stuff before? I'm absolutely a new fan of quinoa!

So for tonight's recipe:

1/2 cup quinoa
1 cup chicken stock (or broth, always the lowest sodium you can find)
1 medium zucchini (cut into cubes/slices)
1 small yellow zucchini squash (cut into cubes/slices)
1 cup cherry tomatoes
2 Tbsp olive oil (for roasting, not all will be added to quinoa)
2 Tbsp chopped basil
2 Tbsp grated parmesan cheese
1 Tbsp lemon juice

Makes 2 servings: 260 calories per serving.

A word to the wise: go easy on the salt. Between the chicken stock and parmesan cheese, this has a bit of a higher sodium content that some would prefer. I happen to make my own chicken stock (with no salt whatsoever), but this time I used store bought, taking into account most people don't have a cup of homemade stock on hand. I was lucky enough to find one with only 170 grams of sodium per servings, but a typical store bought low sodium broth/stock has about 570 grams of sodium, which is pretty high.

If you try this let me know, I'm going to try another version tomorrow...and I'm freakin' pumped about it!

Health Food Conquest

2011-06-27T00:31:00.003-06:00

As my "about me" section explains, I'm a graduate student finishing my Master's in Mental Health Counseling while finishing another degree in Dietetics in order to acquire certification as a Registered Dietitian. My end goal is to be able to help people with various eating disorders, specifically those of the food addiction and overeating variety.

In order to be successful at this, I feel I need to know what I'm talking about. No point in telling someone, "Swap out white rice for quinoa, it's much healthier for you" if I've never eaten quinoa myself. What if it's utterly disgusting? What if it has an essence of cardboard and sweaty socks? Is that fair to recommend that to my clients? And if it is a super ingredient, wouldn't it be my job to be able recommend a tasty way to prepare it? Yes. Overall I think people know what they should eat, it's the challenge of making it palatable that they have trouble with.

So I'm taking a bit of a food adventure. I'm going to try some of these "health" foods that I've read so much about, and then I'll write a review about it. My initial first impressions, and then some possible ways to revamp it into something delicious. Some (like tofu) I have tried before and absolutely detest, but in the name of health, I'm going to have myself a little cook-off and see if I can make it delicious.

So right now I've got on my list; quinoa, tofu (eww), buckwheat pasta, lentils, oatmeal, brussels prouts, sardines...yup, I'm going to do it. Is there some incredible health food you wish you could eat (lettuce?) but just don't have the palate for? Leave me a comment and I'll add it to the testing list. I need to do this, people. If I'm going to be able to be a reliable dietitian someday, I need to have some expertise in this area besides just knowing the nutrition information on the back of the package.

So any requests? Anything you want to add to your diet but aren't sure how? Any recipes you use to make these foods delicious? Let me know, and I'll incorporate it. Oh and for the sake of everyone, I'll try and use wine somewhere in the ingredient list...if at least only for my own liquid courage during the taste-testing.

Couples Who Fight In Public

2011-06-25T02:49:00.002-06:00

To the couples of the world out there who insist on fighting with each other around everyone else because they think it proves they are more comfortable and more "in love" than the rest of us who are acting civil: knock it off. It doesn't work that way. It's awkward and annoying and you're making asses of yourselves.

I'll give you an example.

A few nights ago, my boyfriend and I went to dinner with one of his friends and his friend's new girlfriend. I'm not a huge fan of double dates when at least one person is an unknown, but his friend (which for the sake of this post we'll call "Frank") was eager for us to meet his new lady (who we'll call....hmm..."Beyonce"). Plus the restaurant we were meeting in is fantastic so...how bad could it be?

It started out pleasant enough, "What do you do", "Where are you from", "I love your hair/top/shoes", but then it took a turn for familiar territory, and not the "good" kind either.

"Stop eating the garlic bread," Beyonce whispered to Frank with a nudge. "It makes your breath all garlicky." "We're at an Italian restaurant," he retorted, "Garlic is the reason people come to Italian restaurants."

She looked at me with an annoyed look on her face and rolled her eyes. Great, I thought. This is going to be a long night.

The waiter came by to take our order. "Can I get you anything to drink?" "I'll have a glass of wine," she said, and he turned to look at me.

"Best to just get me a bottle," I sighed. "I'm sure I'll be having more than one."

At this point I feel I need to make something clear: I rarely drink. Not that I don't enjoy it, I just don't have the time. If I'm going to drink, then damnit I'm going to drink, which usually means the entire next day and maybe even the one after that are rendered completely useless. I have to really weigh whether or not the next two days are going to be worth trading for one night of craziness.

And tonight?

Dinner went on. The comments came and went. Problem was I was assumed to be instantly on her side, and my boyfriend was automatically assumed to be the enemy. "Oh my god, how can you be so dense?!" she would exclaim at Frank, and then look in my direction with a, "Marlee understands, right? Guys can be so dense sometimes!" She would then shoot a disapproving look at my boyfriend, the horribly dense man sitting beside me.

I was right to get the wine.

Beyonce: "I told you not to wear that shirt. Why did you wear it?"

Frank: "I like this shirt."

Her: "It's too stripey."

Frank: "Too stripey?"

Me: "You see the thing about garlic is..."

Beyonce: "It has too many stripes. It's too bright."
Frank: "I like the stripes though."

Me: "It rhymes with 'schmarlic'."

Beyonce: "You never care what I think."

Frank: "Of course I do, I just like this shirt."

Me: "They should serve tacos here."

Beyonce: "You are so difficult."
Me: "Or burritos..."
My boyfriend: "Anything with beans really."
Frank: "I'm being difficult? Because I wore a shirt?"
Me: "Pinto beans."
My boyfriend: "I'm more of a black bean guy, myself."
Beyonce: "I can't believe you're acting like this."
Me: "I wonder if they have crayons here."

Frank: "Acting like what, a person who gets dressed?"

Me: "Blue ones. Pink, red, yellow, purple...people eater...bop bop bop..."
Beyonce: "Why do you want to fight so bad?"
Frank: "Why do you hate my shirt so much?"
My boyfriend: "Marlee put that down, it's not a toy."
Beyonce: "The only one who gets me here is Marlee."
Everyone at the table: "............"
Me: "More wine, please?"

I'd also like to make it clear that I'm not completely blaming the women here, because I know many, many a man who do the same thing. That is, complaining and embellishing their wives' and girlfriends' bad habits as a way of fitting in with the guys. I've even asked my boyfriend what he says about me to fit in.

"I say you have a third nipple," he replies, "And that it lactates when you get angry." I laugh. We go to bed. End of story.

Now I'm not saying he's perfect. So maybe he does watch multiple baseball games at once on split screen television while watching two more on "gamecast" on his laptop, while also managing his fantasy team and checking college baseball scores, but I kinda think it's slightly impressive. And maybe he likes to tape down the handle on the sink sprayer a little too often so when I go to get a glass of water in the middle of the night I end up startled and soaking wet. But come on, it is a little funny, isn't it?

My point is this; maybe if we all stopped bitching about our other halves so much we might come to see their "faults" as kind of endearing...I mean it's worth a shot, right?

And if not...well just make sure there's plenty of wine.

Stupid And Crazy: Update

2011-06-24T10:16:00.001-06:00

So earlier I posted this explaining my plans to take a trip to a random country, that you choose, via the poll on the right. Right now it seems Italy is currently in the lead, which was daunting at first, considering it was at the high end of my price range. But I found I could get a ticket to Geneva, Switzerland at a much more reasonable price and then make my way to northern Italy. No decisions have been made yet, of course, as you still have roughly 20 days left to vote.

I also want to make sure I make this trip as informative as possible for all of you out there who are thinking of doing this someday (you know who you are). Therefore, I've been making a list of things I need to cover in my return blog. Anything specific you're interested in knowing? Comment below or shoot me an email, I'll be sure to include it!

Oh and if you haven't already, don't forget to vote!

Eating Healthy While Eating Out

2011-06-21T01:05:00.007-06:00

Restaurants are evil.

I don't want to alarm you, but if you've ever had any kind of disagreement with the scale at home you'll agree that eating out typically tends to strain that already tense relationship. And why wouldn't it? The goal of a restaurant is to feed you, and feed you well. The more food you consume the more profitable you become, and the better the food tastes, the more likely you are to return and become profitable once again. They want you to leave stuffed. Anything less and they consider you a missed opportunity.

But that doesn't mean you have to throw in the towel just yet. Eating out doesn't have to end in an unavoidable guilt coma, believe it or not it can actually be a pretty enjoyable experience. Provided, however, that you are somewhat prepared.

But first, we need to cover the mentality of eating out. Let's debunk two important myths, shall we?

1.) This occasion is special. I'm going to treat myself while I'm here.

Unless you are on vacation at a 12 star restaurant (fictitious, I know), this myth will be your downfall. Eating out at Olive Garden is not special. Once a year? Then it's special. Once a week? Not even close.

We have it ingrained into our heads that eating out is a unique and special experience that we need to take advantage of. It's not. Think to yourself how often you realistically eat out. Now I want you to think back to one time when you ate at Olive Garden and really wanted desert but you had to skip it. Do you regret it now? Probably not. The fact is, it's only a special, unique experience if you think 10 years down the road you are seriously going to still regret not eating the cheesy garlic biscuit. Otherwise, face reality. The cheesy garlic biscuit was there last time, it's going to be there next time.

So in order to break this thought process, I'm going to give you a little assignment. I want you to go to dinner sometime this week, and order nothing but healthy items. No bread basket, no deep fried mozzerella sticks, and no "death by chocolate" cake. Eat healthily and only until you're full, then pay your tab and leave. Don't rush, but don't linger. As soon as you leave, write down how you feel. Stuffed? Guilty? Disgusting? Tired? Doubtful. How about empowered? Healthy? Energetic? Probably. Try it, see what happens. Keep that list of emotions with you and the next time you meet your buddies for dinner take a look at it.

2.) I'll burn it off at the gym in the morning.

As a general rule, never do something now that you have to make up for in the future. It almost never works out that way. Remember the theory of willpower? Right now your body wants to eat whatever it can get down. You say no, and it fights you. Letting it win only fuels that little toddler inside you. When it's time to go to the gym tomorrow and your body doesn't want to go, what's it going to do? Fight you. Just like a toddler. It already knows it can win, it did last night.

So train your body, like a toddler, to listen to your mind when it says 'no' the first time. Stick to your guns. Soon, your body will begin to function on the same level as your mind. You think to yourself, "I already had a piece of cake, and I want another one, but I'm not going to have one." Decision made. End of story.

Now that a couple mental myths have been covered, this brings me to:

5 Tips For Healthy Restaurant Eating

1.)Ask them not to bring out the bread basket.

It's not rude, it's brilliant. If it's not there, you won't eat it. Plus, if they do bring it and you don't eat it? They have to throw it out. Wasted food.

2.)Always order the dressing or the sauce you want, just be sure to get it on the side.

Sauces, dressings, extras (sour cream, quacamole), and condiments (mayonnaise, ketchup) account for most of the unnecessary calories in a meal (save alcohol). So find a way to use them sparingly. For example, you want full-fat blue cheese dressing? Order it, just make sure it's on the side. What I do is dip my fork in the dressing before each bite of salad. That way you get a bit with some dressing, not too much, not too little, and you end up hardly using any at all.

Same with sauces. Don't pour the sauce all over your plate, cut your food into bites and dip it into the sauce. You'll be surprised how much less you use.

3.) If it's not unbelievably good, don't eat it.

You aren't at your in-laws house. You don't have to clear your plate in order to be polite. In a restaurant you're paying for your meal, and if it's not exceptional, there's no reason to keep eating.

I once read an interview with a woman who owns a prominent cookie company. The interviewer asked her how she stays so fit, being she's around cookies all day. Her answer? If it wasn't the best cookie she's ever put in her mouth, why would she take another bite? Why not just find the cookie she's really craving and spend her allotted calories on a truly delicious experience?

4.) Save carbs for last.

If you're at a buffet, fill up on salad and fruit first, and then lean protein (shrimp, fish, baked/grilled chicken) before making your way over to the pasta station. Think of carbs as a desert, not the main dish. You're eating fruits and veggies for dinner, but you get a few bites of pasta as a desert. I gaurantee you'll eat considerably less of the bad stuff if you make an effort to fill up on good stuff first.

At a sit down spot? Order extra veggies. There's no law saying you have to have a potato with your steamed veggies. Order double veggies instead of the potato. I've done this numberous occasions, and a waiter has never so much as batted an eye at me for doing it.

5.) Drink water only.

I know, I know, this one probably devestating, but it needs to be in here. Beverages account for an amazing amount of calories, and in restaurants these drinks are usually bottomless. Save the soda for dinner at home, when you can control how much you're drinking.
So try out a couple of these rules and see what happens. After all, there's no point in going out to eat if you're going to regret it as soon as you leave? You're paying for your meal, you might as well make it an enjoyable experience.

What other tips do you have to eat healthy when eating out?

Choose Your Own Adventure

2011-06-20T01:18:00.002-06:00

"One who waits, need not do, for waiting is a task in itself. One who does, need not wait, for waiting is no longer needed."

Simply put, I am sick of waiting, therefore I am doing.

Alright folks, between blog comments, facebook comments, and word of mouth, this is the list of things people have told me they are most interested in trying someday:

Ziplining

Skydiving

Bungee-jumping

Riding in a hot air balloon

Traveling to a foreign country

Riding in a super fast rollercoaster

Riding in a racecar

Swimming with dolphins

Helping out on an archaeological dig

White water rafting

Visiting (and participate) at a nude beach

So with this information, I'd like to propose an offer to the bloggers of the world: vote in the poll at the right (next to my other poll sending me to a random country), and I'll do whichever activity gets the most votes. I'll blog about the cost, the experience, my fears, feelings, broken bones and anything else that might be helpful. I'll try and include weblinks, pictures, and hopefully even video.

If there's anything else you're interested in, or any specific questions you want to make sure I address (the risks involved, length of time of a freefall, costs of extras like photos or videos, locations where the activity is available) make sure to leave me a comment (or shoot me an email) and I'll do everything I can to make sure you get the information you need.

Since all of these activities cost money (that I probably don't have) I have the "donation jar" (which should be functional this week) on the side. Any donation goes to whichever activity you are interested in learning more about. If you donate make sure to leave me a comment or email so I know which activity to apply it to!

If you've ever had a reason for avoiding something you've always wanted to do, I hope I can inspire you to try. To me something seems less frightening with done with a friend. And in this case, maybe all you need is a friend to go first!

So how 'bout it, friends?