doahleigh - Holy Waste of Teabags!

For Christmas, Brad got me the Nintendogs game for my DS. It’s not that he thinks I like dogs all that much; he is actually very aware that a wet dog nose or tongue on my skin is almost enough to make my flesh melt off my body. I like dogs, as long as they don’t get in my way, don’t stink, and keep their faces off my body. Virtual dogs do pretty much exactly that.

I think he bought me the game because he thought it was a funny concept and knew I would too. So on this game, I adopted a little brown female miniature pinscher, which I named Clout. I have to feed and water her every day, take her for walks, and train her to do tricks. So far it’s been interesting, but my real motivation to keep playing is that I realized I can take her to competitions and win money. Fake money, yes, but the other day when she won the first prize of $200 at an obedience trial, it was almost as exciting as winning real money. Okay not really, but still pretty exciting.

I told Brad that by the time Clout masters all the competitions, I’ll probably be bored with the game and ready to send the electronic dog to the pound. But by then, however, I’ll have plenty of prize money to buy Brad his own fake dog, and he can enjoy the game for awhile.

I’ve had my virtual pet for about a week now, and after spending a night on my sister’s couch this weekend with a real life yappy Chihuahua nestled in my knees and a Yorkshire Terrier wrapped around my neck, I not only confirmed that I never want a real dog of my own, but that I function much better in the virual world and should perhaps live there altogether. Do they make Nintenchildren yet?

Today is the first day in a week that I haven’t had a Christmas party. It’s been a whirlwind week, and the festivities aren’t over. I have to go back to GR on Friday for another party, then back here for New Year’s. But I’m taking this break, while I have it, to rest and be productive. I started by sleeping in, which everyone knows is one of my favorite activities, then spent the rest of the day uploading and organizing over a hundred holiday photos (that was just on my camera, I haven’t even touched Brad’s yet!), and making sense of the mess under our Christmas tree. That project is still in progress, because holy Lord we got a lot of stuff!

It has been a wonderful Christmas though, and I’ve felt so blessed over and over throughout the week. My family is amazing, I’m so lucky to be a part of such a great group, and I only wish I could spend more time with them. Brad’s family made me feel very loved as well, and our friends are so much fun! And like I said… holy crap the presents! We got more than we needed, more than we deserve.

I hope everyone else had as much fun and love. Happy holidays to everyone!

Posting your holiday schedule is probably right down there with writing about what you had for lunch. But since my busy schedule is the reason I might not be around here for a few days, I think it makes all kinds of sense. Or maybe I’m just too tired to think of anything other than everything I have to do in the next two weeks. Either way, here’s a glimpse at the upcoming festivities.

[LAST NIGHT: Christmas with B's mom and stepdad.]

TONIGHT: B’s work Christmas party.

FRIDAY MORNING: Pack up a billion presents and head to GR, an hour and a half away.
FRIDAY EVENING: Have a celebratory dinner with best friend. Sleep on sister’s couches.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON: Christmas party with extended family on Dad’s side.
SATURDAY EVENING: Small intimate Christmas party with immediate family at Dad’s house.

SUNDAY MORNING: Christmas Eve breakfast with old high school friends.
SUNDAY AFTERNOON: Long overdue haircut appointment with mom.
SUNDAY EVENING: Christmas party with extended family on Mom’s side.
SUNDAY NIGHT: Drive all the way back home.

MONDAY MORNING: Christmas with B’s family, Dad’s side.
MONDAY EVENING: Visit B’s grandma.
MONDAY WHENEVER WE HAVE TIME: Exchange stockings with B.
MONDAY SOMETIME: Call family at home during their small intimate Christmas party with immediate family on my Mom’s side to say hello (we have to miss this one).

TUESDAY EVENING: Christmas party with B’s friends.

WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY: Rest, finally.

FRIDAY MORNING: Head back to GR to visit grandma who will have recently had surgery.
FRIDAY EVENING: Christmas get-together with extremely extended family (I’m talking third cousins here) on my mom’s dad’s side.

SATURDAY: Drive back home.

SUNDAY: Find something to do for New Year’s Eve (with all the Christmas parties, you’d think we’d have plans for New Year’s Eve, but that is not the case).

MONDAY AND TUESDAY: Relax, sleep, recover. Post holiday stories and photos.

WEDNESDAY: Back to work.

Thank god I work in higher education at an institution that gives its employees the week off between Christmas and the New Year. I kind of wish I could sleep and sit around more during my break, but that’s not the spirit of Christmas, now is it?

We don’t have any kids, and don’t plan to for quite some time, yet Brad and I find ourselves having numerous conversations about how we would raise them if we did. These range from “Do we spank them?” to “Do we ban them from the Wiggles even when they beg?” We of course have no idea what we’re talking about and fully expect to eat our words when we really do become parents, but we discuss these things nonetheless. So as you’d expect… ’tis the season for the “Do we tell our kids about Santa Claus?” conversation, which took place just the other night.

I wouldn’t say that we totally disagree on this topic, but we didn’t exactly see eye to eye either. Let me break it down.

My thoughts: There’s no hiding Santa from a child. The red-suited man is everywhere, so why even try to deny him? However, the spirit of Christmas is not about Santa, and it’s not about obtaining mountains of wordly possessions. It’s about love and togetherness and baked goods. Therefore, though our kids will inevitably know about this Santa character, I don’t believe he should be the giver of gifts in our house. We’re the parents and because we love our kids, we will give them (meager) gifts. Not some stranger called Santa.

His thoughts: Yes the spirit of Christmas is love and togetherness, but one important part of that is making people happy with gifts. Kids love Santa and want him to come down their chimney, eat their cookies and leave them stuff! Our kids should get at least one present from Santa, otherwise they’ll start asking why he goes to every house but ours, and I’ll have nothing to say except, “Santa doesn’t come because your mommy hates him and won’t let him in our house. It’s her fault, son.”

That conversation lead, or perhaps was a small part of, another much larger issue: the act of gift-giving. Now I’m a fan of giving gifts and I don’t mind receiving them either. But I think during this time of year it gets a little out of control. Everything revolves around shopping, spending money, and wowing people with presents. Advertisers lead us all to believe that our kids will hate us if we don’t buy that $600 Playstation. Our relatives will never invite us over again if we don’t buy them each a unique gift. And none of it really counts unless we’ve stood in a crowded line at 4:30am, beat down an old lady and trampled a child to obtain these things.

I resent that. While my family has always exchanged gifts, my parents also taught us that sometimes less is more. Some years we’d all go shopping for another family that otherwise wouldn’t have gifts, and on Christmas day, instead of wading through a sea of big ticket items, we each opened a small present or two.

That is what I want to pass on to my kids. They deserve the joy of unwrapping a gift, and I hope I can provide that for them, but more importantly I hope I can teach them the value of things beyond material possessions. And for the most part I think Brad agrees with me. He’s still a boy at heart who loves to receive toys on Christmas, and he wants to see that same excitement on the faces of his children (even if Santa is the giver apparently). But he didn’t roll his eyes when I sent him this image “in the spirit of our recent conversation”:

Instead he simply replied, “How appropriate.” Yes, how appropriate indeed.

I’ve been getting a lot of search hits for various combinations of “Keira Knightley” and “teeth” and “Rain drops keep falling on my head” lately. Since I did mention her strange ability to play the rain drops song on her teeth in a previous post, I guess that makes sense.

So as not to disappoint anyone who ends up here searching for the video, which is what I assume you all are looking for, I’ve kindly posted it here. Enjoy!

B: That was either Mike or Tom, I can never tell them apart.
S: Are they twins?
B: Kind of.
S: Kind of? How can you kind of be twins?
B: I don’t know, I mean they look alike, but they look different. I’m pretty sure they’re twins okay?
S: But kind of twins? What does that even mean?

He keeps me laughing even when he’s not trying.

I laugh every time I see a commercial that suggests all a man needs to do is walk into a jewelry store, grab the nearest thing that sparkles, present it to his girlfriend/wife, and she’ll drop to her knees and thank him with sexual favors. Because every girl loves jewelry right? We’re suckers for that crap. 

I hate jewelry. I don’t hate jewelry as a thing, although I do think it’s a bizarre custom that has, over time, become so customary that it’s almost invisible. But that’s another post for another time. What I mean is that I don’t wear jewelry, I hate wearing it. I own a couple pairs of earrings, maybe a necklace or three, and a few rings, most of which are in an old condom tin, lost in my closet somewhere. I don’t like the feeling of something around finger or dangling off my ears or choking my neck. I’ll slip something on now and then to dress up a little (”now and then” translates to maybe twice a year), but generally I’m a pretty plain Jane.

When Brad and I started to get serious, I assured him he wouldn’t have to buy me an engagement ring because all I wanted was a simple wedding band that didn’t drive me batty (no, this is not a sly way to announce our engagement, relax). I thought this would make him happy, but it turns out I picked one of those sentimental guys who prefers to embrace romance rather than celebrate when excused from it. He liked the idea of picking out a ring and planning a proposal. How could I deny him that? So we compromised, agreeing that after we were married and I had a wedding band, I would only wear the flashy engagement ring when I felt like dressing up or showing it off. I can live with that.

My point, which I’m getting to in a very longwinded way, is that I got a new ring. Again, not an engagement ring, stop assuming that’s where this is going. But now I have two very special rings that I may occassionally slip on, each of which has a cute little story to accompany it. And they go like this:

The first is from Brad. When his mom opened her gift shop last year, this is one of a few pieces of jewelry she carried. On the days that we helped her set up shop, I often admired this ring out loud for it’s simplicity. So one day, soon after the shop had opened officially to customers, Brad and I visited, and I again noted the ring sitting in its display. We then left to run an errand for his mom, and upon our return, I discovered the ring was missing! A customer had purchased it while we were gone, can you believe it?

Yes, I fell for this little story completely. I was honestly shocked when I opened the little box the next day and saw the ring. He had his mom put it aside while we were gone so he could later buy it. It was all so damn sweet that somehow my heart talked my hand into tolerating a ring for much longer than it ever has. I wore that ring almost every day for a year and a half before it started to irritate me. Now, though I still love it dearly, I only put it on occassionally, because otherwise I fear my hands might fall off in protest.

(Don’t feel too bad for Brad. I bought him a ring in March, one that he picked out, and he has always only worn it on occassion. That’s how we roll I guess.)

My second favorite ring is one I received only yesterday. For my birthday, B’s parents and grandma took us out to dinner last weekend. On his grandma’s hands I noticed two very unique rings. Strange, I thought, those look like the handles of fancy spoons. So I inquired.

Sure enough, they were fancy spoons twisted into rings! I gushed over these things, perhaps some of the coolest rings I had ever seen. A few days later, when Brad visited his grandma to pick up the antique butter bowl she generously gave us for our holiday nuts, she also threw in a little something for me.

The spoon ring of course, with a little note that said “Shannon, I thought you would like this.” I was so touched, not only because it was so thoughtful and kind, but because hello! It’s a spoon! Made into a ring!

Not to mention all the cards, emails, comments, messages, voicemails, free meals and “happy birthday!”s I got. It was a good birthday. I know I’m very fortunate.

Instead of a photo collage from my birthday, since I forgot to upload pictures to flickr and I can’t right now, here instead is yet another plea for help on my behalf. Please don’t be intimidated by how boring that sounds. You may be able to help and then I’d love you forever.

Yet Another Plea for Help on My Behalf:
I like my job, I really do. But as a person who can’t help but always look to the future, I’m beginning to wonder what to do next, even if next is fifteen years down the road.

One thing I’ve learned about myself is that I don’t have the drive to turn a passion into a career. Everyone always says, “Find your passion, then find a way to do it for a living.” Well, what do I love? I love to read, travel and sleep. Nobody will pay me to sleep unless I become a permanent subject of sleep studies, but then there’s all those wires and machines they hook to you and suddenly sleeping is no fun anymore. I’ve tried to get my foot into the publishing door, thinking I could eventually read manuscripts and edit books and crap, but I hated all six months of that job and swiftly moved on. I still haven’t figured out an easy way to get paid to travel, so that’s a no-go so far.

At one point, I thought I wanted to be a journalist or a writer of some sort, but you know, that takes a lot of drive and motivation. You have to want it pretty bad, and I guess I didn’t want it bad enough.

So here I am, working some ambiguous job that has a very small niche. People don’t even know what I’m talking about when I say what I do. And since many employers hire based on past experience and not on potential or true ability, I’m rapidly pigeon-holing myself into this one type of job that is not in very high demand.

After some pondering, I think I decided that what I need, eventually, is a career that is obvious. That’s the best word I came up with to describe it. Allow me to offer examples, then contrast them with my current reality:

Example 1: “Hi, I went to school for chiropractics. I got a degree in chiropractics and now I am a chiropractor.”

Example 2: “Hi, I went to school for speech pathology. I got a degree in speech pathology and now I am a speech pathologist.”

Contrast (my reality): “Hi, I went to school for journalism and then mass communications. I got a degree in communications, and now I work at a college coordinating a program that’s too hard to explain don’t ask.”

This becomes even more of a problem as I get the urge to return to school. I want to advance my education and know I should, but in which way, I don’t know. Most recently I’ve considered a Master’s of Public Administration. But all that does to the equation is change my statement to this:

“Hi, I went to school for communications. And now I have an MPA, which qualifies for me for about a million different jobs.”

Not helping. What I want to avoid is such a broad scope of potential jobs. With an MPA, I would technically be qualified for many jobs, but not especially qualified for anything. Meaning each time I wanted a new job I’d have to:
   —Search for and apply to 600 jobs.
   —Interview with hundreds of other potential candidates who are all equally qualified in a variety of ways.
   —Try to convince an employer that, based on my degree and experience, I am in fact more qualified than any of the other candidates.
   —Start all over again.

Basically, a big pain in the ass the rest of my life. What I want is something more stable, more sure, more obvious! I want a degree that says “I am qualified to do EXACTLY THIS.” No questions asked, no unsurities, no convincing.

Now right away, let me rule out for you a few obvious ones: most types of doctors (blood, guts, internal organs… just no), nurse, lawyer, accountant, veterinarian, movie star. Although, do know that the medical field is not completely ruled out, nor is fame (though I can’t act or sing or dance).

Here is where the actual plea comes in… So what else is there? What am I not thinking of, what else should I look into, what can I do for a living?

Before you answer, let me recap my needs: a degree that leads to an obvious career, a promising job market, and good money (not great, just more than I make now). Seriously, throw out anything. You never know what I may be interested in. Unless you suggest a phlebotomist, I promise I’ll at least look into it.

Since I’m doing my best not to complain so much, I’ll instead talk about how happy I am that my car is broken again. I’m absolutely thrilled that last weekend I had to spend a load of money to fix part of it, and yesterday found out it will cost me another load and a half to fix it further. Really, I just couldn’t ask for more.

Without a broken car I’d be able to drive myself to work and not have to rely on Brad. That would be awful. If my car wasn’t malfunctioning again, I’d actually have money left over from my last paycheck, and I’d be able to eat next week before I get paid again. But food means nothing really when your car is in the shop. It’s all I can think about: the anticipation of handing over my debit card, the thrill of bumming rides all the time.

It’s especially great that I found this all out yesterday, the day before my birthday. There’s no better way to spend a birthday than stressing out about cars and money. Some people tell me to forget it all for one day and enjoy. But what’s a birthday without unneeded stress and frustration?

What’s even more exciting is that this is the final straw with my car. It’s time to give it up and get something new. Which of course means I get to rework my budget and find an extra $200-$300 every month! This is one of my favorite things to do. Who doesn’t love cutting their grocery budget in half to supplement a car payment? I know I do!

I believe the only thing that could make this day better is if the mechanic called to tell me that they found another problem! A broken thingamabob that costs $400 to fix? Great, tack it on. No, I don’t mind putting it on my credit card. And hey, if you feel like you need to add a few hundred more for labor charges, I would be happy to pay that too.

Fucked up cars are my favorite thing, I’m just so glad mine breaks all the time. Otherwise my life might be a little less stressful!*

*Honestly it could be a lot worse, so I am thankful for that. Plus everyone is being really great to me on my birthday. (For instance…) So just go ahead and pretend all that up there wasn’t a big wad of complaining in disguise. (Except it was.) (In case you missed that.) (I’m sure you didn’t.)

I’ve always been frugal and reasonable with money, especially recently when I was a “full-time volunteer” for two years. I really learned how to say no to things I wanted. Now that I actually make money, I honestly don’t know where it goes. I’ve heard people say that before, but it always astounded me. You don’t know where your money goes? What the hell is wrong with you? Now I get it.

On top of all the additional bills we took on simultaneous to starting the new job, we also just seem to spend more. Broken cars, eating out, christmas gifts… and conversations like these:

S: I was talking to your mom about how you like to get “toys” for Christmas instead of practical things.
B: It’s just more fun that way. Especially now that I can afford to buy the things I need, I like to open fun gifts on Christmas.
S: Yeah but hon, you don’t spend your money on the things you need. You spend it on the “toys.” Therefore, you should ask other people to buy you the stuff you need.
B: Yeah that’s true… [pause] …but that’s no fun.

————

S: I think I figured out why I never have any money despite the fact that I make twice as much as I did last year.*
B: Why?
S: I spend too freely. I used to always say “no” and now I more often say “yes” to things I want. I need to stop spending money on the little things.
—Cut to me 30 minutes later buying a pair of shoes at WalMart—
S: But I’ve been needing new black heels for a long time. They’re for work, I need them. And they’re on sale! From WalMart!
B: Uh huh…
S: Whatever, I’ll start tomorrow.

This, and the fact that we don’t want to live on the streets when we retire, is why we’re looking into the idea of a financial advisor.

*I made next to nothing last year, so “twice as much” is still not much.

It’s kind of fun having a birthday on a friday in the midst of the holiday season…

   A lot of movies released during the holiday season
+ Most movies released on Fridays
+ A birthday on a Friday during the holidays
= I get to hear super announcer guy say the date of my birthday about five times a day!

And every single time I hear it, I say out loud, “Hey that’s my birthday” all nonchalantly like I’m pretty cool or something. But hey this only comes around every four years. Or maybe it’s more like seven… I don’t know, fucking leap year bullshit.