I'm OLD!

You know how when you spend too much time in water your skin wrinkles and you get all pruny? I once had a friend tell me about a time as a small one that she went swimming. She was in the water for a really long time, and upon getting out noticed the pruniness of her skin. She turns to her mother, and in almost tearful horror says, "Mom! I'm OLD." The implication here being that as old people are wrinkly, if you're wrinkly you're old. So, if old people take a lot of pills, and I take a lot of pills, then I'm old. Veritably ancient, as it were. It's around 8:30 in the morning, and I've already taken 7 pills. Supplements, for the most part, but still. What kind of a diseased human being takes so many stinkin' little capsules?! My poor throat gets tired. "Gosh, another one? That's the 30th pill in three days. Give it a rest, will ya? I'm sick of this. Eat some yogurt or ice cream or something." Needless to say, my throat doesn't really appreciate them ("Needless to say" is such an odd lead in to something that you are most definitely going so say.... (also, I'm willing to bet the phrase "A run for your money" originates in horse racing (or something of the sort))). I think my body does though. My skin (except on my hands) has almost achieved normality! Wooo! Go skin! Also, I am feeling well enough in the mornings to do a few exercises without wanting to die. Oh yeah. Serious progress here. On an unrelated note, techno can be really boring. It is also Tuesday, which means Thursday is only two days away. And... school starts a week from tomorrow.

La La La La!

That would be joyous singing, in case you're wondering. Basically, today is a beautiful day. Why you ask, is it such a beautiful day? Because it can be! And by that I mean I slept in, good food is on the menu, and I have a ridiculously cute niece. My house is also drowning in fruit (seriously, I could go swimming in raspberries). My computer is fixed cuz my dad is super cool, and I am becoming less and less leprous as time passes. How cool is that? Super cool. You can't truly appreciate soft, smooth skin until yours feels like hard cracked leather. Dry, flaky, miserable leather.... Where I used to rub my arms in an effort to not scratch them off, I know rub them to feel how non disgusting they are. Oh how standards lower! Dooby doo bee doo!

Have a nice day :)

I'm A Tiny Little Insect!

What I really mean by that is that my sister had her baby (yesterday). I'm an aunt! The funny thing about that is that it makes me seem like the one that matters and did work ("Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!"). But I'm not a first time mother. I didn't carry a growing human being in my body for nine months. I didn't go through labor or give birth. Mostly I just watched all of that. I get, however, to claim all of your congratulations for having a fertile and willing sister and brother-in-law. Thanks :) I had something to do with that.

It was a natural home birth, as that's how our family tends to roll. Aunts, grandmothers, mothers, sisters, a father, and good friends were present. The day was filled with good pictures, good quotes, good friends, good vibes, and good wishes. Also, a lot of really hard work and a great reward. The labor went well. We decided that it started at approximately 1 am, became labor labor around 9 o'clock in the morning, and le bebe was born at 1:48 in the afternoon. It was a little girl, she weighed 7 pounds and 10 ounces, and was 21 inches long. Ridiculously cute. Naturally. She's related to me, so of course I think she's adorable (plus, we share genes, how could she not be cute? (I'm just kidding (mostly))). The mother is fine, she tore a bit and needed to be stitched up, but not bad. Grandma and Grandpa are very excited, as are all the tiny little uncles and aunts. Basically, it was one exciting day, and we're very grateful for it. 

Congratulations, Sister and Brother Dearest :) Good work.

P.S. I want you all to know that my sister was positive it would be a girl. It was. I also want you to know that she told me she was pretty sure "this baby is coming on the 22nd." It did. 

Life Status

Sometimes I eat lots of food at work. Then life is good because I'm not dysfunctional. Then I come home and make dinner and get the dishes done, and life is even better. And I get my minimum six hugs, and acupuncture, and I accomplish the recycling, and I don't go on any dates, and my phone doesn't die, and I don't bleed too much from my leprosy, and I don't feel like murdering people, and I eat fresh tomatoes, and life is just beautiful. Then roommate (not the porn star one) make chocolate covered strawberries, and I get my life in order and clean my room. And even though I'm not going to California, I'm happy. And I like you :)

I hope your day was as good as mine. Better, because I particularly like you at the moment (kissy face).

Meh

Some nights. I hate people. And I want to kill them. All of them. Then I feel very worried about myself, my roommate, my sanity, and how that knife got to my hand.... I'm freezing to death. It's the middle of August in Utah. The desert. And I am freezing. Part of this is due to peppermint. And part of it is because I'm broken. And I'm going to go get in my hot tub. Which is actually my grandma's, but that's okay. Some days, you just need a long hug, a good fiction book, and someone to tell you it'll be all right. But instead you have grocery store sushi, a blog, and no one. But that's mostly due to laziness, so it's all kinds of all right.

Dear Reader, I hope your night is lovely, your days are filled with sunshine and happiness, and that you get your minimum six hugs a day. Much love :)

A Little More Latin Than Necessary (Part 3)

There tends to be a little more Latin than necessary in your Latin dancing when you go two nights in a row in a single week, rather than just one. So Thursdays are Salsa Chocolate, where there is much salsa, some bachata, and a little merengue. Most people are fairly good dancers, and some are great. This is the night that I like to go. Fridays are called the Bachata Room, and there is much bachata, cumbia, and merengue, some banda, and a little salsa. I went once, with the originator of my Latin dancing, and he was grumpy the whole time for the lack of salsa. I mostly danced with him, and thus did not have tons of fun. As such, I avoided Friday Latin dancing. But then. I took my cousin from Chicago Latin dancing with me on Thursday. She loved it as much as I, and so naturally we went Friday too. It was not quite the same... For the following reasons.
1. The music. It's four times as loud as Salsa Chocolate, which is pretty loud. The Bachata Room is feel-it-in-your-chest-I'm-going-to-be-pushed-about-by-sound-waves loud. Definitely not as pleasant. In addition to this, the songs are melded together, making it hard to extricate yourself from dancing with whomever you happen to be dancing with. This is opposed to Salsa Chocolate, wherein there is a distinct beginning and end to each song, and you dance one or maybe two dances with the same person in a row.
2. The lights. Salsa Chocolate they hang out, maybe change color, chill.... Bachata room they strobe, and flash, and pulse, and all that jazz.
3. The people. At Salsa Chocolate there are decent amounts of people, and they are about half and half young and older. At Bachata Room there are hundreds of thousands (hyperbole) and they are all young. Except for my forty-year old who likes to ask me out, because  naturally he was there too.
4. The dancing. Salsa Chocolate is a more proficient dancing scene. About a third of the people have no idea what they're doing, and the other two thirds are tons of fun to dance with. Bachata Room, some people know some stuff, but on the whole you encounter mediocre dancers. There's also quite a bit of standing about in little groups doing we're-American-and-thus-don't-know-how-to-do-much-so-let's-jump.
5. The atmosphere. At Salsa Chocolate it is largely we-love-to-dance-this-is-fun. You can encounter various vibes (young and sexually frustrated, old and sexually frustrated, I love to dance, young and clueless but trying, old and kind, etc). At Bachata Room there are fewer (in my experience. I think my cousin got better vibes). Pretty much young and sexually frustrated. i.e. most of the night was spent trying to avoid too much closeness.
These above things resulted in this equation.

Deafening music + epilepsy-inducing lights + crowds of young people (and lots of cologne) + bouncy dancing and twirling + avoiding too much closeness and partner extrication = Go-my-oodness-I-feel-like-I'm-on-drugs-and-I-want-to-leave-this-place-nowish.

It didn't start out like this, but it builds. So after awhile I was quite ready to leave. Especially since one of my goober encounters was with my forty-year old, who then wanted to find me after we danced the first time, which was absolutely not comfortable. And so he kinda sorta stalked me for a bit. So. My cousin saw I was ready to get out of there, and though she was having much more fun than I (encountering fewer goobers), said that she just wanted to stay for the next bachata set, and then we could go. That sounded great to me. So while we waited for the music to change we went and sat in the back of the club by the bathrooms on the couch, in normal lighting, and where the music sounded normal. Twas nice there. Then there were a couple guys who were back there. Cousin had danced with one of them quite a bit, and the other was wearing orange, so I had noticed him because he made me think of my brother. So they came over, and started talking to us, and hanging out, and danced with us in the back where it didn't feel like you were on drugs, and then life was better, and the night less unnecessarily Latin. And we went home and slept.

So basically, Fridays are good if you bring large groups of people, or you accidentally meet really cool nice people.

I Believe In A Thing Called Naps

It's like believing in a thing called love, but less stressful, and decidedly less involved. Just sleeping. Maybe some strange dreams, but other than that it's the best. Since taking my trip to Illinois, I have taken a nap/fallen asleep every day. For the most part it hasn't been intentional. But I have no responsibilities, nothing to work on, nothing to worry about, nothing to get done. And I could do things; like read or take walks, or try harder to see old acquaintances and friends, etc. Or I could lie on my comfortable bed, and slip into unconscious bliss, to reawaken hours later, having lost nothing and gained everything. A few more hours of not having to think about anything, and the pleasant feeling that you've accomplished nothing, and that's okay. It makes me wish we took siestas. Being at work does too, actually... Americans are silly. Siestas aren't just a pleasant idea, or for lazy people who stay up too late, or other cultures. I think siestas are inspiration from the Gods. How pleasant would it be to finish up with a little something at work, go eat a delicious meal, find a couch, and conk out for an hour or two? I'd be willing to stay til 7 if I got a break like that in the middle of the day. It sounds glorious. Since I more or less am master of my own hours, I may do just that. Because that would be freaking sweet beans, yo. Naps are so lovely, and babies have the right idea. They eat and they sleep. That's what I've been up to here, and that's what I wish I could do always. Maybe add a few other things in there, but those are definitely the most important ones (Latin dancing being next on that priority list... ;) Point is, napping is beautiful. Life is better after a nap. You're more beautiful after a nap. Sounds are sweeter after a nap. Tastes taste better after a nap. Sights are more sightly after a nap. Napping is glorious, and we should all do it. So go, start believing (and then don't stop (believing)).