warnings for my future husband: part 2

i know, i know. warnings part two ... really?  maybe instead of "warnings for my future husband" the post should be entitled "tips for scaring away any potential suitors."

but nonetheless, i've thought of a few more warnings that i want to add to the previous warnings list. and yes it's completely necessary because as i discussed with my dear friend g-dubs this past sunday over lunch, one day i'll make my future husband sign these things just so we're clear that they aren't surprises.  as he explained to me, half of marriages end in divorce while the other half end in death (something i thought was quite hysterical ... not the death part, but the entire expression).  however, with my meek attempts at transparency, hopefully my (somewhere in the distant future) marriage will end once we're old and shriveled all up like raisins.

here are three additional warnings:

1.  i don't always make my bed in the morning.  HOWEVER, i absolutely without a doubt must have my bed made prior to getting in it at night.  this often results in me making the bed around midnight only to throw the covers back a few minutes later, but still.  the bed must be made, but not necessarily at the crack of dawn.

2.  apparently i have a lot of nervous energy.  this may result in me tearing up napkins or the pieces of paper that hold silverware together at restaurants.  i don't consciously think of it as nervous energy.  i just know my six-year-old sized hands need to be occupied (but obviously not with touching food since we all know that doesn't happen).  i promise to not leave these little pieces of paper trash all over the table in hopes to not embarrass you in front of the waiters.

3.  i know that my beloved YA novels are works of fiction, but if i bring up katniss, dumbledore, or princess mia as if we just hung out at the mall, just go with it (the same goes for attending midnight movie premieres for these book adaptations -- i'll go see a blood and guts snoozefest with you if you go with me). the quickest way for the backside of my hand to meet your cute little cheek is to remind me that these are "just books" or that the characters "aren't real" ... they're real to me so just step back.

these three little additions to my list might appear silly, but i promise you this, darling husband of mine: if you cut me some slack in these areas, you'll never hear me complain about that toilet seat that i'm sure you'll leave up.  you learn to embrace the awkwardness that consumes my life and i'll embrace the fact that i should always check the seat pre-bathroom usage (or get used to swimming in the toilet bowl).

deal?  good.

there's something special about going to the movies

on the way to the hunger games midnight showing last night, i kept rambling on about not having a passion.  it tripped me up so badly in interviews when i was asked, 'what can you tell me about yourself?' because i'm pretty much what you see on my resume.  besides some awkward and/or inappropriate stories to share with prospective bosses (which for the record, i have no prospective bosses now as i'm loving my new job to a ridiculous degree), i've got nothing.

zilch. a goose egg. love. ... however you say it, i essentially don't have anything that i really enjoy in the way you are supposed to love something when asked what you do for fun.

and okay, i do love reality television. and i do love gossip magazines (and gossiping for that matter). and don't even get me started on how much i love painting my nails.  but none of those do anything for making me appear like a self-sufficient, mature adult.  which i am ... for the most part.

i semi-started my passion quest last summer when i took a photography class and bought one of those snazzy (aka expensive) cameras, but that fizzled out as i got busy.  i'm hoping time presents itself to enjoy that again, but it wasn't something that stuck.  i also started sewing and enjoyed that for quite a while, but i have yet to complete a skirt i started last july because i can't figure out the darned elastic.

but there's got to be something i enjoy.  there just has to be.  i've got to be able to say something other than sleep when people ask what i do for fun.  which if we're honest, sleep truly is my favorite thing, but since i'm not a hibernating bear that's not seen as a socially acceptable hobbie past those late night college days.

which brings me to my real point for this post (which we all know i never get to until the end anyways):  i really enjoy going to the movies.

not just watching movies (although i do love that), but going there.  i'm a sucker for the whole experience from the big screen, semi-sticky floors, and tearing of the tickets (and the inevitable 'WHERE IS MY STUB?!' panic when i have to go to the bathroom), to the delicious popcorn smells and crunching that waft down from the end of the aisle when someone brings back an [overpriced] enjoyable treat.

and seeing the hunger games premiere at midnight (in imax ... HOLY OVERWHELMING SCREEN SIZE) was quite the treat.  all of those movie loving elements were there, but add to that the costumes and squeals from the expectant and giddy crowd and you've got yourself an event.

i'm not saying that going to the movies will be the next thing on my passion quest list because after all, movies are expensive.  but let's just say that regardless of the price, there is truly something special about going to the movies.  it's more than just a visual story you subject yourself to for a couple of hours ... it's an experience.  and a beautiful one at that.

don't judge a book by its cover. for realz.

in order to prepare (if that's possible?) for my upcoming job, i've decided to take a hiatus from reading all of candace bushnell's books (if you don't know her stuff, you should -- http://www.candacebushnell.com/) and focus on things i might be able to recommend to kids.

not that sex and the city and lipstick jungle aren't worthy of recommendations ... because they so are.  but maybe just not to tweens.  and just for the record, i'm not thinking of that as censorship.  i'm just thinking of it as responsible librarianship.  and while i'm being honest about what i think, i'm not so sure some of the things in those books are completely appropriate for adults, but whatever. still good.

don't judge me because i haven't read some of
the INSANELY popular ones. better late than never, right?

anyways, i went to the bookstore (i know ... not the library. but i didn't want to wait for the books because i'm the world's most impatient library patron) and picked up some books that were on a middle grades list ... and some others just because i thought they should be on the list, even if they weren't.  and after reading the backs of the books and realizing they were more often than not FAR from my genre of choice, i decided i needed a solid princess diaries type book.  essentially, fancy nancy in middle school.  

after reading the back of the books and scrutinizing the covers (shameful, i know), i settled on a megan-type book about a girl who wants to fit in and has two gorgeous and famous parents.  i thought it was a slam dunk book (which basically means an easy read about an ugly duckling who eventually becomes sassy and beautiful just like her rockstar parents).  

OMG PEOPLE I WAS SO WRONG.

now that's not to say it wasn't a good book.  it was.  i read it almost straight through because it was so gripping, but holy cow was i off base.  and if you don't want it spoiled, stop reading here.

the stars and happy writing on
the cover?  TRICKS.

okay you've continued reading, so i'm about to spoil.  so the girl i thought was an ugly duckling?  well, she does have famous, beautiful parents that make her feel slightly inadequate, and when she moves to a new school she has all the same insecurities that new kids have.  as she's struggling to fit in with the popular crowd that likes her for her parents' fame, her mom gets cancer (and dies), her dad relapses with his alcoholism and causes a terrible wreck which sends him to jail and then alcohol rehab, and hannah (the main character) ... well she decides she's not pretty enough or skinny enough to be in the popular crowd AND deal with all this crap from life so she starts throwing up.  

and i'm not just saying it's alluded to in the book.  full out details on her binge eating and purging are all over those pages.  which of course makes it real and carries such a huge impact upon the reader, but WOW.  not princess diaries chick lit like i was expecting.  

but again -- it was a good book.  maybe a little graphic and detailed for someone with as weak a stomach as myself, but hannah's struggle with fitting in and dealing with all that stuff at once?  that's real life, folks.  

albeit she was dealing with EVERYTHING at once, but still ... the girl was able to be real about her "issues" (as she called them), learn to be happy again and love herself, and of course ... snag a true winner of a boyfriend in the end.

[side note: while some books tend to gloss over the details, this doesn't leave much to the imagination.  and as startling as that was, from someone with no background on how haunting bulimia and alcoholism can be, this stuff seemed legit.  there wasn't a complete rainbows-and-sunflower ending (although she did snag that boyfriend), but the struggle wasn't forgotten, instead being stated that she was going to slip and it was going to be hard -- but she would be able to learn to cope.] 

so all in all, am i glad i read it?  definitely.  but was there anything in the entire story i expected?  only the boyfriend.  

so be careful, kids.  don't judge a book by its cover (or its title for that matter).  but if you do, like i did, read it with an open mind.  and try your hardest to find the good.         

weekends are beautiful.

that seems like a silly thing to learn, doesn't it?  i'm sure i actually learned this way back in the day when i would wake up early (ugh, i was stupid) to go watch cartoons, but lately it's easy to forget how wonderful the idea of a weekend is. 

the howl's cute singer (when he wears his hat and sunglasses).

having finished up my projects, i headed home to visit a friend and see my dad who also happened to be in town. that  first night i experienced the joy that is howl at the moon.  not the action of howling at the moon.  i'm not a werewolf (although i'd date taylor lautner in a heartbeat) so that would be weird.  howl at the moon happens to be one of those piano bars where the band seems to know every.stinking.song.ever.created and they are just SO good and they play whatever anyone requests and everyone is just so happy to be there (except the two older gentlemen that got into a brawl at the end of the night...they forgot how much fun the howl was). seriously, if you're ever in charlotte you have to promise me you'll check it out. over the course of the evening i became a little obsessed.  there were lots of people celebrating greeting card type occasions (you know the ones - 21st birthdays, bachelorette. etc.), but i was just celebrating life.  it was beautiful. 

and also, who doesn't want to go somewhere they can sing along to all songs at the top of their lungs regardless of the knowledge (or lack of knowledge) of the lyrics?!  it was like the mother ship calling me home.  i'm pretty sure given the chance i would be one of their bar band groupies (or their only one?).  

mirror pictures are lame, but i wanted to document the fun!

the next day dad and i hung around the house just being lazy (okay...i was incredibly lazy while he washed the porch), went out to eat (since neither of us could cook this was our only option...upon my arrival, the contents of the fridge looked like this: 3 large powerades, half gallon of chocolate milk, old cheese. awesome right?), and then took his little convertible toy car thing up to visit my grandparents.  spontaneous visits are the best, especially when you get to drive the toy car (which he only let me do for about five minutes before we had to park so he could drive again...lack of trust, obviously).  also, it should be noted that as i backed out of my grandma's driveway, dad was sitting in the passenger seat praying and making terrified faces at his mom.  let it be known that i do not appreciate that, daddy.

LOVE SVH. like seriously so much.

the rest of the weekend involved shopping (dad didn't join me because he claims to not like that stuff), reading my brand new copy of sweet valley confidential that FINALLY came in the mail from the giveaway i won on goodreads (woah that is a mouthful of a sentence), and just enjoying being home.

don't get me wrong.  i love where i currently live and i don't know that i'd ever actually want to move back towards my parents house (mainly because it is not montana which is where i fully plan on moving upon graduation), but there's just something to say about the comfort of home and the beauty of weekends.

summer vacation is already rockin'!