Hey followers!

Follow me at my new blog.... www.anthropologyofagirl.com ...more to come!

NEW BLOG

I will no longer be posting on this blog (been a while, eh?).
So please join me at www.anthropologieofagirl.com

P&L (peace and love),

AE

still

I’ve been waking up before the crack of dawn the last few days, and I’m pissed! This has happened before, but I’d really like to know the actual cause of my restlessness. So far, all I can conjure is that it’s because:

1. Those damn birds! That's exactly what I thought around 3am when I first heard them, and it’s what I thought when I woke up “officially” at 5am, It’s also what I am currently thinking, at precisely 5:47am. Apparently March brings Spring AND the birds that come with it. I should probably be more encouraged by the “awakening of spring” and the sound of birds chirping out my window, but I’m not. They are loud. Irritating. And should be shot.*
2. I love breakfast. But I ALWAYS love breakfast. Mind you, I think I’ve eaten the same thing for breakfast for the last 4 years, but something about it still gets me out of bed in the morning. Occasionally I go to bed thinking about it...and occasionally I switch it up. Either way, I love it, but it’s no reason to wake up before the crack of dawn.
3. Too much sleep. Is it really possible? Apparently so if I choose option “c” as my final answer to this rather annoying situation.
4. Too little food. This would be the second part to option "b". Still trying to figure this one out...
5. I gave up T.V. for lent. How does that have to do with anything you ask? Well, If it’s not the answer to my problem, it surely would be the solution to these early mornings. (See explanation below)

*OK, maybe not shot for real, but other options with the same end result welcome (peace and quiet).

Although I started lent a week late, I’m still attempting to take it seriously. "Seriously" in the sense that I am sticking to it as much as possible, debating if I will take Sundays off as in traditional lent. I’m not a “traditional” lenter. I did not grow up doing it, I did not understand the concept until recently, and to be honest, I previously associated it with Catholics, which I previously assumed were crazy (i.e. probably not really Christians). All that to say, I’ve practiced lent a few times in my adult life and this year is no different. Except that I am fasting T.V., which is actually really hard.

I love T.V. And when I say “love”, I mean it like a fat kid who loves cake...and watching T.V. while eating it. Prior to my birth, my family didn’t own a T.V. From my understanding, T.V. was practically sin in their book. Then they moved, I came along, and now I am making up for the years they spent without T.V. As a 2nd grader my sister broke her arm riding down a hill, on a bike, with no brakes (although she still blames the other girl who got in her way). “Do you want to come with us to the hospital, or stay at home with your brother?” asked my dad. Well of course I chose home. Why? To catch up on “The Simpsons” with my brother. Nor could you peel me away from any good Pauly Shore movie or quality 90’s cinema (Son-in-Law, Biodome, Mrs. Doubtfire, Encino Man, Empire Records...you know, the wholesome stuff). So, all that to say, I loved T.V., I love T.V., and I will always love T.V.

Back to lent and my early rising (no shining). If for lent you are supposed to give something up that you truly love, a vice, then T.V. is it for me. While I can’t say T.V. consumes my life, it’s definitely my fall-back way to relax, unwind, fill time, fold laundry, play Words with Friends, or the like. Now, 3 days into it, I’m enjoying the peace, quiet, and productivity of my new T.V. free life, but also blame it for waking up earlier. Why? Because I now get bored at night with nothing to do, so I get into bed, I get bored on the internet, can’t yet bring myself to read, catch up on Word with Friends, then fall asleep, early. Which means I wake up, early. Which means, I have time to write about it. Because I have nothing better to do at this un-godly hour.

Maybe I’m on a T.V. detox. Getting it out of my system, recalibrating my brain and body and how they work together. I’m confident I now have too much time to think, process, think, and think some more. Perhaps I’ll come up with a new hobby by the time this is over. Maybe I’ll become a reader (I’ve always wished that for myself), or maybe I’ll have a genius epiphany in all my spare time that will a) make me millions, and (most importantly) b) make me really happy. Or maybe I'll just catch up on a month's worth of T.V. stored up in my DVR (I sure hope it can store that much!).

Well, there it is. There they are. I’ve given you 5 options as to why I’ve been waking up before the crack of dawn. I’d also like for you to know that, at precisely 6:26am, as I finish this post, it is STILL dark outside. Still. Oh, and the birds are STILL chirping. Still. I guess now this is my opporunity to BE STILL. To be still and wait on the Lord (Psalm 37:7).

p.s.

I HATE that my posts are centrally-aligned. Any help welcome.

deal-e-o

Here’s the deal. I write because I like to write. While I love the idea of blogging, having followers, and all the fame and *glory* that comes with it, I struggle to keep up with what I think are interesting things to write/talk about. Really, I shouldn't care, but much like everything else in my life-I do. To be honest, I guess you could say I am a blog snob. I don’t follow a ton of blogs, but that probably has more to do with my critical eye for them than it does with my time or ability to read them. If I don’t like a background, I opt out. Trying-too-hard title? Opt out. Inconsistent updates? Opt out. Someone who talks about their inconsistent blogging? Opt out. You name it and I can find a reason to opt out of any blog.

Judge if you’d like, but sadly I also hold myself to that standard. I want a unique, aesthetically pleasing background and font, a catchy but not annoying title, consistent updates, and I absolutely hate acknowledging that I’ve been behind in my blogging or ability to do so well. What can I say? I’m a perfectionist. The unfortunate thing is I then tend to opt out of the blogging world completely. Can’t do it well? Screw it. Can’t do it enough? Screw it. No awesomely-interesting-earth-shattering-journalism-making topic to write about? Screw it.

But that is also what I love about a good blog. I recently came across the blog of someone I’ve been following on Twitter for a few weeks now. I found it just two days ago, and already I’ve made a good dent in the 2011 posts, dabbled in the 2010’s, and gone “way” back to the 2008 posts when the blog began. The writing isn’t stellar. The pictures are random and self-taken. The colors are simple, and so are the topics. But I love that. I love that I feel like I shouldn’t be reading the blog-like I just came across my sister, or best friend’s diary and simply can’t put it down. The blog talks about daily life, work, food, exercise, relationships, things that are funny, things that are not, and everything in between. The irony is I imagine it’s pretty darn close to what my own blog would look like if I simply wrote. If I blogged what I journal, what I think, the life I live and the one I wish I lived, I’m pretty sure that’s what it would look like.

I blame time. I blame my inability to conjure an interesting enough topic that will last more than a sentence or two. I blame my lack of followers who really care. I blame...everything. I’ve been on a major hiatus. Call it my sabbatical from writing for more than just me.

The good news? Every good sabbatical comes to an end.

Like the blooger I mentioned above, I too, have a day-to-day job. One that can be completely boring, hilarious, or consuming, but [almost] always adventurous. Work will happen because I’m expected to show up and I don’t like letting people down (hence my previously noted sabbatical). But I’m also anxious to do the things I love to do, regardless of what others think, or what I think they might be thinking. I’m anxious to live life more fully. No excuses, no shit (bull).

Oh, ya. Sorry, I’m not completely opposed to cussing.

As I finish this post, I must admit one other irony. I write this not in the blogesphere but in a word processing program. Because I didn’t intend to blog it. Because I didn’t think it would be worth posting. Because I didn’t want to commit myself back to the blogging world. Because I’m a perfectionist. And didn’t think anyone would find value in this. But I wanted to write.

Cheers! to writing, not simply to blogging.

follow us

Do you follow? If not, you really, really should.

@thingsgirlssay

Spread the word. K, thanks. Bye.

ilovemylife

When all else fails in life, look at pictures like this...

and this...

and this...

...then repeat after me, "ilovemylife".

If that doesn't work, go here.

but...

I think I'm a G, but really I will forever be a junior higher at heart.

Can you tell why?

A million lip smackers to anyone who can guess the story behind this photo.

And yes, I post pictures when I am being lazy. Or perhaps it's simply because a picture really does say a thousand words...or whatever that phrase is. Or because I think I am funny.

i think i'm a g

Can you tell?

I think I might actually get a sunburn in the morning when I get ready.
Holla.

cheers!

Who knew doing the dishes in your undies could be so fun?

P.S. Sorry sister if this is not internet appropriate. Too good to pass up sharing this potential future blackmail.

did you say diddy-money?

[This post previously posted on Christmas. Here it is again, hopefully a little less difficult to follow, although I can't make any promises.]

There's nothing like a little Diddy to celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus. Yes, that sweet, infantile baby Jesus. And yes, by Diddy I mean Puffy, by Puffy I mean Sean Combs. Have you heard his new album? If you haven't, I insist you buy it. And when you get that album, I insist that you listen to #5. But please don't judge me. After all, today is the day we celebrate the birth of our sweet Lord baby Jesus and he wasn't big on the whole judgment thing coming from anyone but him.

While we're on the topic of music you might as well get your hands on a copy of "Sleigh Bells." I might have found them because I am mildly obsessed with M.I.A. and they just might be on her record label. They might be kind of awesome, although I can't promise you their album has much to do with Christmas.

Speaking of which, did I ever tell you about the M.I.A. concert? Best. Night. Ever. Had it not been for my super awesome and fashionable walking boot (broken foot), I may have had even more fun. However I can't hate on the boot too much---it did make me some rather questionable friends waiting in line for the bathroom. Friends I would not have made had it not been for my awesome boot. But hey, I'll take props from anyone complimenting me on my ability to "rock it" despite an injury. Even if said person might have been killing time while her friend did a line or two in the restroom I happened to be waiting for.

Speaking of lines, I'm pretty confident the headliner of the night did a few of those herself before gracing us with her presence. However, once she was onstage she kept it clean. That is if you consider clear liquid that burns on the way down "clean". How else would one quench their thirst in between gyrating the crowd and climbing perhaps the world's largest speakers? If it weren't for the dancers dressed in graphic printed burkas, the very....um...sexual European (male) dancers, and the slightly inebriated lead performer on stage, I might not have fit in with my (need I say) awesome boot.

With the music on point except for some feedback due to the Guinness sized speakers squeezed into a club the size of my living room, I left the show on a mixed media, music pulsating, base pumping high. I had met my match. Well, less of a match and more of an alter ego. So with a pitter patter in my heart, a faint migraine forming in my frontal lobe, and a boot on my foot, I left the scene of my brush with musical chaos.

You may be wondering what this all has to do with Christmas, and to be honest, for a moment I wondered as well. I promise you it has nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas but everything to do with the fact that today I received a year's subscription to "Rolling Stone" magazine, and I couldn't be happier. Now that is a good way to start the year.

things i find #5

In light of the holiday season I've decided to share with you a little bit of history. My history.


Here I am, in all my glory, the hot mess that I often am (and apparently always have been) on Christmas morning circa...'89ish.

Merry Christmas to all!

before i'm dead and gone

I've been known to talk about [swoon after] "The Buried Life" boys. I'm not sure if it's their boyish looks, fervor for life, or willingness to put themselves on the line that makes them so appealing. Either way Lord knows these boys have balls and a willingness to sacrifice them for the sake of living a full, adventurous life.

Since watching the first season of the show last winter I myself have thought about what my own buried list might look like. For those of you who have not seen the show, 4 boys (in their 20's) have created a collaborative list of the things they want to accomplish before they die (i.e. are buried). Such a list might also be knows as a "Bucket List", as in, "Before I kick the bucket, this is what I want to do with my life." My own list is elementary in comparison, although I've managed to a include a few things I would legitimately love to pull off at some point in my life. What I love about the show is these guys' willingness to drop everything, get a bus, and make shit happen. Now, I realize these guys have a T.V. show, financial support, and a huge following at this point, but they had to get the show, the money, and the bus somehow, right? You may call it chance or luck, but after watching two seasons worth of what some might call youthful antics, I see a bunch of ballsy guys willing to work for what they want.

Now the question is, can I say they same for myself?

Plenty of things have prevented me from accomplishing things I would have loved to accomplish by now. Part of me accepts that it is what it is and certain things will happen in their own timing. With that being said, however, how much am I taking a hold of my life to make things happen? I realize I cannot simply sit back and wait for my life, my dreams, my goals to happen; it just doesn't work like that. I know that, and yet the endless possibilities are strangely paralyzing. I hate that quality about myself.

So what am I going to do about it?

That is a great question for someone who is naturally adventurous. You'd think that "independence" would couple well with an adventurous spirit, but apparently there is a no two for one sale in that department. At the same time though I am quite adventurous. I am confrontational and seem to have no problem with honesty. I surprise myself sometimes with the things I say or am willing to do. I wish there were more of a pattern to go off of, but really I'm not sure how much consistency there is in regard to my spontaneity. You might say I'm a little bit "scattered". Perhaps I am more adventurous when in the company of good friends. Safe people. People I can be myself with. If that's the case, then I better get these people on board to help me get on with my list.

Speaking of which. What's on your list? If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine.

things i find #4

Won't you please go camping with me?

i will be thankful

I'm about to be really, really honest with you. I have bruises on my elbows from Izzy & Frank (yes, I named my crutches), bruises on my knees from crawling up stairs, a swollen foot and a fat calf. Not to mention I've been shitting Vicadin for a week. Izzy's a bitch and Frank's just annoying. I've walked in the boot, sat in the boot, propped the boot, smelled the boot, and even danced in the boot. I've yet to name the boot because then I might forgo ownership of the boot. I own the boot. The boot does not own me.

It's amazing what freedom you give up with no right foot. Upon breaking your foot you might think, "Cool, so this hurts really bad," followed quickly by, "darn, I broke my foot, life goes on," which is then immediately trailed by a slew of...

"How do I get groceries?"
"How will I deposit this check?"
"Who will take me to work?"
"Which shoe will I wear today?"
"How many things can I safely carry up the stairs so I don't fall, and yet don't have to come back down for a second trip?"
"What are the chances someone will see me crawling up the stairs?"
"How long can I balance on one leg?"
"How far can I hop on one foot without Izzy & Frank, without falling?"
"I wonder what the neighbors think of me as they see me hop along, loudly and gracelessly?"
"How many more times will I answer the same damn questions about my boot?"

Seriously, the list goes on. They may seem like trivial questions to you, but over time it all becomes incredibly wearing. It's wearing to not be able to do what you normally do, to be out of your normal routine or the things you're used to. I realize it could be much, much worse, but the fact remains, I have no right foot. Sort of.

As cheesy, theologically incorrect, or evil as it may sound, I've already told two people, "If you're not careful, God's gonna do this to you too." Now, I don't necessarily think God did this "to me" but it does open the whole conversation up of "Did God let this happen to me?" I can't necessarily say I know the answer either way as I don't really think the answer is worth my time to think about. However, I realize that it happened (breaking my foot) and now I get to deal with the repercussions-er-I get to learn from the experience. One of my incredibly-super-awesome-wonderful-committed weekend volunteers asked me, after making sure I was OK, "Now what is the Lord teaching you?" Again, I realize that question could sound totally cheesy, but really, there's got to be something to it, right? At least that's what I'm telling myself.

One thing I have learned is what it looks and feels like to slow down. Mind you, my brain continues to flutter away at warp speed, but my body is humming somewhere around the rate of our growing economy. Not only am I learning this lesson, but those around me, those helping me, have also been forced to function at half speed. I'm only two weeks into this ordeal (I promise not to drag it out too long for you) so clearly I don't know where I'll be at come November 23rd (D-day), but I can't imagine continuing such a slow swag through life post boot. If anything I can say that I will be back to normal with a newfound appreciation for two feet. Yes, two feet.

Which brings me to Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving. It truly is my favorite holiday. What better day than one filled with food, family, pie, pajamas, and little to no real financial stress? If you're like 90% of traditional American families (I made that percentage up) then I wouldn't be surprised to find you circled with your family & friends at some point during the day, likely before ingesting your weight in potatoes, sharing what you are thankful for this year. You might even say, "This year I am thankful for...

"my family."
"my job."
"God's_____________."
"provision."
"our home."

Et al. Come that fateful 4th Thursday of November we find ourselves grateful for the great gifts we've been given and the blessings we've received. We remember the big things that happened in the past year hopeful those things will continue to bless us. But what if, just what if this year, I broke into your family-friendly circle of thanks and gave thanks for my foot? What if this year, instead of giving thanks for your new home, you gave thanks for electricity? Even better, maybe you could get a little more creative and share gratefulness for Thomas Edison's discovery of electricity. Or what if you gave thanks, not for provision, but for Reese's Peanut Butter Cups because they make you oh, so happy and bring joy to your life each time you eat them? Ok, maybe these are poor examples, but you get the idea. What if this year we looked past the big stuff to find joy and gratefulness for the small things in life. Like a functioning right foot and the ability to take a shower.

This is what I've got so far. I imagine there will be more. In the meantime, what are you thankful for?

things i find #3

I'm not sure about you, but I could use some laughter in my life right about now. Well, actually, there is plenty of laughter to go around, but you get the idea.



Oh yes, please, I would love some bear vomit [click to enlarge].

curious much?

Wondering about my adventure to see M.I.A.? Here's a little something to tickle your fancy until I get to that. Stay tuned.

P.S. What the crap does "tickle your fancy" mean anyways? Ohh, the inappropriate things we say.

ignorance is bliss

There is nothing like a broken foot to stop you, literally, dead in your tracks. There is also nothing like a broken foot to make you feel totally useless, a little lazy, overwhelmed, exhausted, underwhelmed, bored, and nonetheless totally annoyed and emotionally dramatic. I guess you could say I've spent a little too much time with myself in the last 3 1/2 days, which is definitely not a good place for me to be. Sure, maybe I have had or will have a multitude of life altering epiphanies, but I also can't help but rationalize them, blaming them primarily on the 48 hrs+ that I've spent on Vicodin.

As introverted as I may be, as much as I love T.V., being by myself, and being a homebody, there IS such a thing as too much of a good thing. T.V. lasted about 24 hrs, being by myself lasted about the same, and the whole "homebody" thing is about over. I've discovered I'm not very good at doing nothing. Actually, I've known this for quite some now, but knowing and feeling are two different things. I've KNOWN for some time that I am not good at doing nothing, but now I've truly FELT what it means to do nothing, so know I know know that I am not good at doing nothing. Some people have such a talent, to appreciate nothingness, but I am clearly not that person.

I've also never been (in my adult memory) this dependent on others. My roommate definitely wins the "Roommate of the Century" award. Too bad there's no such trophy for that. Even my close friends (co-workers) deserve kudos, or an honorable mention for "Friends of the Year". There should be a trophy for that one too. Oh yes, and "Sister of the Year" should be in there too. I'm often to busy being the do-gooder to let other people help me, and to really be able to appreciate others for what they have to offer. It's bittersweet on the other side. You may perhaps want to be in my shoes, but I'd rather be in yours. Like they say, the grass is always greener on the other side.

I'm not sure what "epiphanies" I've had. I've had a lot of thoughts though. Nothing life altering, but enough to make you stop in your tracks, get frustrated, then appreciate what's on the other side. It's true, ignorance is bliss. I would have been totally OK not knowing what a broken foot felt like. Who knew physical pain could actually bring you to tears? Not just any tears. Sobbing, snot out your nose, heaving air in and out, ugly cry-face kind of tears. Ever wonder what you looked like when you cry? I do. How else will I know if I have the ugly cry-face like that teen mom on "Teen Mom"? Poor thing. I bet nobody ever told her. Wonder what she thinks now that she's seen herself on T.V.

Any who. I'm really just starting to ramble now. Remember? That's what I do well. I may not ramble in conversation, but I definitely ramble when I write...when I think.

I'd really like to be done with this whole boot thing, but I better not start thinking that now. I've got 5 1/2 more weeks with this bad boy. Wish me luck! And if you happen to see my cry-face anytime soon, remember what I said. Ignorance is bliss.

10 things

Here are the 10 things I did or didn't do on 10-10-10:

1. Wake up in the middle of the night.
2. Fall on my foot going down the stairs.
3. Crawl up stairs on my hands and knees to get back to bed.
4. Call my sister to drive from LBC to take me to Urgent Care.
5. Beg my friends to cover me at work.
6. Not shower.
7. Crawl to the following locations: kitchen counter to eat breakfast, bedroom to get "ready", bathroom to brush my teeth (while sitting on the floor), the kitchen and pantry to get a snack (said snack also eaten while sitting on floor), and down the stairs to the car.
8. Drive to the wrong Urgent Care.
8. Get lost going to the second Urgent Care.
9. Piggy back on my sister from the car to the Urgent Care.
10. Fracture my foot.

Here are the 10 things that might not be so awesome this week:

1. Getting to work.
2. Showering while standing on one foot.
3. Crawling up and down the stairs at home (1 set to the front door, 1 set to my bathroom, and an additional set to my bedroom. Stupid townhouse).
4. Going to a super awesome club to see super awesome MIA.
5. 4th & 5th grade special event on Friday. 2 words: Bounce. Houses.
6. Feeling nauseous every time my food hurts.
7. Rocking the crutches--I think I might need a backpack.
8. Lack of groceries.
9. A fractured driving foot.
10. A super lame story to tell about how I fractured my foot.

And what, you may ask, could be awesome about this week?

1. Calling in sick.
2. Getting help from people.
3. Having an excuse to "catch up" on T.V.
4. Telling people my super awesome story about how I fractured my foot.
5. Fabricating fun stories I could tell people about how I fractured my foot.
6. Getting rides to work from my friends.
7. Laughing at myself for being retarded.
8. Figuring out how to do normal things in a not so normal ways, and laughing at myself in the process.
9. Watching "Clueless".
10. Letting other people take on my responsibilities (it's not like I don't do it for them!)

Ilovemylife.

club M.I.A.

So this is where I will be next Thursday with my hollywood girlfriend. Talk about sticking out like a soar thumb.

I'm so excited.

Ilovemylife.