I Might Be Fickle

I'll own it. I love facebook.

You're probably going to remind me that I have written the exact opposite of that statement before. And that I have a blog tag that says "facebook sucks."

I'll own it. I'm a hypocrite.

For real, though, I did not know it was possible to simultaneously love and hate something so much.

I check it all the time. I probably see everything you post on my news feed. I like knowing what my friends (and mild acquaintances) are up to. I'm narcissistic enough to believe that people want to hear about what I'm doing and see pictures of me.

But I think some of the appeal might be the danger in it.

Facebook is like one big game of emotional roulette. About 20% of the time after going on facebook, I feel bad about myself.

There I'll be, looking at pictures of someone's baby or wedding or what they ate that day (seriously, why do you post pictures of you food? that's one thing I don't care about), and I'll be loving every minute of it.

And then, BAM!

Someone I went to school with just got a new job as a travel writer and is getting paid $7 millionty to spend their life traveling and writing. Or there's some dude I thought I liked for 2 seconds who appears in his internet life to be happier then me, thus winning the ex-war. Or someone's living in NYC. Or Paris. Or London.

And I'm jealous. And I look around at the life that I normally love and it doesn't look so pretty.

It's like someone's on stage with their fly down. I feel bad but there's nothing I can do to make it stop. So I just keep watching and keep feeling bad.

I love facebook. But facebook sucks.

You know what I'm saying?

Song of the Day: Starry Eyed by Ellie Goulding (Warning: It is impossible to hear this song without wanting to dance around your house.)

I'm Tired

You know what proves to me that I'm definitely not ready to have kids? I haven't been sleeping well for about a week now and I am so pissed off about it I can barely function.

Seriously, I'm tired, I'm cranky, I've been tearing up over nothing.

It's pathetic. And that's after one week. I don't even want to know what kind of constant rage I would be in if some tiny little person was waking me up before I was ready all the time.

It wouldn't be pretty. And neither would I. (For real, the dark circles under my eyes make me look like a rejected extra from Twilight.)

I think I just have some residual stress built up in me. Nothing a vacation can't fix. And since I have a 4-day weekend coming my way, I'm feeling pretty good.

Speaking of my 4-day weekend, my dad and step-mom are coming to visit tomorrow. They'll hang out in Williams and see Route 66 (it's really a sight to behold), and then we're all going to drive down to Phoenix where it is 100 degrees and there's a pool. And Mizzou is playing at ASU. It's going to be awesome. Missouri meets Arizona- a collision of two of my favorite things.

So, that's going to be great. And I'm going to be relaxed and sleep well and get rid of the ridiculous farmer's tan that I still have left from this summer.

I'm relaxed just writing about it...

Song of the Day: Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson

I Lied. It was an Accident, Though.

OK, so a few days ago, I listed all the things my blog wouldn't be about. One of them was sports.

That was a little bit of a lie because I am bound to write about sports now and again. Because, you know, I love my Cardinals and my Tigers.

But my blog won't be about sports.

It'll still be about me. You can count on that as a constant.

But sometimes I spend my days watching football and I need to tell you about it. Like Saturday, when I watched football in my basement for 14 hours.

It was awesome. Some would even say it was the perfect day. (Some= Abigail.)

Here's how the day went:

8:00 Wake up, brush teeth, turn on College Game Day, finish making pumpkin cinnamon rolls I started the night before.

9:00 Cinnamon rolls baked and iced, channel changed to start of Mizzou game

9:15 Susie and Debbie wake up, grab cinnamon rolls and coffee, join me in our loft.

9:45 Abigail and Jill pull up outside. Abigail jumps out of the car and starts running into the house before Jill puts the car in park. Abigail might be as stoked as me.

10:30 Halftime. We move to the basement. Much better for football watching.

12:00 Mizzou game is over, we flip between UCLA/Houston and USC/Minnesota . Abigail is content. (She's a Pac-12 girl.)

1:00 Afternoon snacks come out. Guacamole and spinach dip. Perfect.

2:45 Debbie leaves for work. We all pity her.

3:45 Jill leaves to do homework. We all pity her more.

4:00 Important afternoon games are over. We nap with BYU/Ole Miss on in the background.

4:52 Susie and I wake up and watch last 3 plays of game.

4:56 Abigail wakes up. The first words out of her mouth are: "This is the best day ever."

5:00 Oregon/LSU starts. I try to explain why I don't like the Ducks even though I want to. I can't. We flip at commercials to BSU/UGA and I insist on catching a couple plays of Oklahoma.

5:30 The announcers are talking about Oklahoma, Texas, OK State, and Texas Tech going to the Pac-12. I get mad and yell some things I can't repeat here.

6:00 We order pizza and wings because, well, you know... Football Saturdays.

6:30 Jill comes back because, you know, pizza and wings.

8:00 Oregon loses. Susie is bummed but the rest of us don't care that much. We switch to the UofA/NAU game because it's funny.

10:00 Games are over, we switch to Sports Center to watch the coverage of all the games we just watched.

11:00 Everyone is asleep on couches besides me so we decide to call it a night. I start carrying all the trash and stuff upstairs to find that my roommate Katie did all the dishes we had left up there. I declare Katie a saint, wash my face, brush my teeth, and go straight to sleep.

There it is: 14 hours of football.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I shouldn't enjoy 14 hours of football that much.

But I do.

You see, I have this life here. And it's great. But it's not the life I grew up with.

It's different.

I'm not that different. But my life is.

So I watch 14 hours of football. Because of some kind of nostalgic weirdness, it makes me feel like me. It makes me think of my family, where they are and what they're doing. It makes me think of the streets I used to walk down and the shops I used to visit and the people that I used to see every day.

It makes me think of so much laughter. And so much fun. Of being really young and learning how to be on my own. Of home.

You see, I have this life. This life that I never even thought to dream of. That in some ways is so much more than what I could have dreamed up. And, in some ways, is so far from where I wanted to be.

I have this life that is always changing, always full of surprises.

But I'm still me. You can count on that as a constant.

And I still love 14 hours of college football and lazy Saturdays.

Song of the Day: We Don't Eat by James Vincent McMorrow (I seriously can't stop listening to this song. Look up the lyrics, they're amazing.)

Compromise is Key

Almost 2 years ago, I moved to Williams, AZ.

I made this move for a lot of reasons: the job I love is here, some really cool people are here, we have the Polar Express.

One reason I did not make this move: to find a husband.

Intelligent, funny, goal-oriented, compassionate, adventurous, late-20s to early-30s bachelors don't really exist in Williams.

It's fine. I've made my peace with it. I don't hate Williams for it.

Mainly because I feel like Williams and I have come to a good compromise. I will sing its praises to everyone I talk to as long as it keeps providing me with cute tourists to ease the sting.

Seriously, I find it weird, but really attractive men vacation in Williams, AZ. You would think it would be all old people and foreigners (which, for the most part, it is), but what I didn't anticipate were the hikers. They love the Grand Canyon. And being outdoorsy. And cute.

They also love to shop in our Safeway.

And I love to show them some small-town hospitality over the produce.

Yep, I accept this compromise Williams. Because I don't really want a husband that bad. But harmless flirtation in Aisle 9? Yes, please.

Song of the Day: The Perfect Space by the Avett Brothers

Back to School!

I'm a fairly self-aware person. I know I'm good at some stuff and I suck at some stuff. I have a pretty good idea of what those things are.

I was not a good student. I just wasn't. I got bored easily and I like to be able to see tangible results from my work. (Grades don't count.)

But I really like to learn. And every year at this time, I get so jealous of everyone going back to school. Part of me just really wants to throw a notebook and some G2 .07 pens (best pens ever) into my giant bag and head off to class.

I could be one of those people who collects random degrees. (Which is basically what I did the first time around.) I could take Women's and Gender Studies classes and Art History and English Lit and Creative Writing and Rural Sociology. And it would be awesome.

I could make my schedule so that I wouldn't have to get up before 10:00 and I could spend hours reading things in a library. Oooh, or a coffee shop! Even better!

I could write papers. And have well-informed opinions.

I could lay on the grass outside on pretty days and hang out with my friends at 2:00 in the afternoon. And I could have entire chunks of time that I hadn't planned anything in.

I could stay up until 3:00 in the morning, dreaming with my friends about all the world-changing things I'm going to do with my life.

It would be glorious. And I wouldn't have to rely on the 15 minutes a day that I get to read news websites to keep me intellectually stimulated.

Ah, to be young again...

Song of the Day: She is Love by Parachute