Death by a Thousand Papercuts

I am a well documented non-sleeper. Worse last night than ever, quite possibly. Can't fall asleep. Can't stay asleep. Sleeping is not relaxing for me, it's a chore. A chore that I neither look forward to, nor enjoy. I toss and turn, punch the pillow. I squint my eyes together as hard as I can just in case some rouge ray of light dare sneak through my window a moment too soon. I have the lavender oil burning, the temperature just right, hot bath right before bed, write down what I've got to accomplish the next day, blog in my head* so that I can free my mind. All that jazz.

I even went as far as to get a clock radio that plays various types of white noise while I sleep. Just so you know, this is no half cocked hippie gimmick to make people feel like they are getting back to natural sleep habits. It's "scientifically proven" to aide sleep. I have yet to figure out what the magic combo of relaxation/pharmaceuticals/noise makers is the key to getting a decent nights sleep but I do know exactly how it helps me to wake me up.

Seconds before my alarm goes off, the 'white noise' clicks off. In those few seconds between woooooooosh woooooosh woooooooosh and eeeeeeeeeehhhh eeeeeeeehh eeeeeh. I have the presence of mind to roll over and think, "Oh sh*t, my alarm is about to go off." Yeah- I am not proud but that's the way it is. My good girl Mormon sensibilities won't even allow me type that out without editing it, but that's my go to phrase. Every morning. Then I get to look in the mirror at the train wreck that 8 hours of wrestling for sleep has produced...and let me tell you, it ain't pretty. That can't be a good way to start the day. It's like jumping into a dirty mouth, bad karma cave and trying to climb out with positive thoughts and aphorisms before the blow dryer clicks off. Doesn't work. Well, doesn't really work well.

You people who fall asleep the minute your head hits the pillow? I can't stand you. (Nothing personal, of course, just a lifetime of envy and exhaustion changes a person.) It is probably why the Great and Powerful OZ has not seen fit go grant me a, 'plus one.' Chances are- if he snored, I'd smother him in his sleep.

One thing I have realized. 30 my be the new 20, but 40 is still old....and at this rate.....ugh. I'm too tired to even think about getting there. What's that disease where you age faster than normal? I think I have that. I am the AntiBenjamin Button.

Weather's here! Wish you were beautiful!

You haven't had the pleasure to witness what I did this morning, but you really should. I realize that I am a horrible person for being mean...but why lie?

There is a lady at work today who is probably about 55 ish and quite perky. She is the one who makes announcements to the staff lounge in general, no one person in particular, like "I bet I know what we are all thinking! Isn't it GREAT to have a job?" No. Call me ungrateful, but being that it is 7 a.m. on one of the ugliest days of the year, I am not thinking that. I am thinking many things and that is definitely not one of them.

Anyhow-She is in a Metallic. Purple. Snow. Suit. It is a one piece, very form fitting, with a shiny gold belt clip, and a zipper up the front. There are boots that go along with it. I think she may have owned this for quite some time, maybe since her 8th birthday.

Oh- and she has one of those fuzzy beanies on with ALL of her hair tucked up into it.

Yeah- it's pretty much the most awesome thing ever. I wish I had more nerve and was quicker with my cell phone camera but I couldn't even make eye contact.

*Update- I have received a second witness from a fellow coworker and the beanie has been described as, "...more of a furry turban." I like that better.

Cheerio Gubner!

Today has been an ugly day. Literally. Rain, snow, sleet, but no hail. Needless to say, I didn't want to leave my dog out to fend for himself amongst the wild, unruly forces of winter. I mean really. Have you watched the news? Southern California is moments from being washed into the deep blue sea. Seriously. Batten down the hatches. Duck and cover. Run for your lives. It's every man for himself around here!

Lest you think I am the crazy lady who is unaware that my dog is in fact an animal, regularly licks his own junk and is completely capable of surviving outdoors, I'm not. Well- not usually. I really just didn't feel like dealing with a wet dog after work. He's got long hair, shaddup!

Anyhow- Freddy spends most days bouncing between the backyard and the garage, so I rarely have that sinking feeling that most indoor pet owners feel when they realize that mischief and mayhem have taken place in their absence. I got a hearty helping today. Immediately after walking in the door, I came across some very suspicious activity.

It was hard to tell what was touched, because clearly everything was touched.

I guess he felt like the toys at the bottom of the basket had been neglected for far too long and made it his personal mission to right that unspeakable wrong.

At least his heart was in the right place. That's a book on temples. It started out on the coffee table on the other side of the room.

Shortly there after I scanned to the other side of the room, made three very significant realizations and am greatly flummoxed at the personal/public ramifications of these things.

A) My dog is a closet eater.

B) While he is 23lbs and is less than two feet tall, he has an amazing capability to scale bar stools that are pushed in and counter surf when left without proper adult supervision.

C) Even though he is a distinctly German breed, he enjoys (dozens of) English baked goods.
So naturally, I am left wondering a few things...

Is that look of shame when caught eating somehow able to be passed between human and pet?

Does he know I skipped out on ward temple night?

In spite of his clear lineage, would Frederic von Schnauzer M.D.* have a German accent or British?

*M.D. (mad dog)

Brilliant Plan, Indeed!

I don't take advice well. Obviously. Especially when it is unsolicited. However, for the past few months the old adage has been bouncing around my head that to forget your own worries, you should help someone else. You know, forget yourself and get to work. It's worked for some pretty notable people in the past, why not me? See, this is a brilliant plan already. Brilliant, indeed!

Instead of the usual summer trip to some far off land where nothing much happens but riding elephants, running from primates and snapping ill-advised photo's in swimsuits, I have decided to set my sights on a trip that serves a much grander purpose. Yeah- that's right. Africa. So yes, this summer may involve riding elephants, running from primates, and certainly, many ill-advised pictures. This time it will be done whilst building a school and helping to train teachers in Kenya! By no means would I classify my level of excitement as, just a little. Unbelievably, insanely, incredibly would all be better choices.

(Photo courtesy of mongabay.com)


The only thing is, and that is where you come in, that I have to raise $3,750 for my portion of the trip and supplies for building the school. As you may have noticed I attached a super easy and convenient PayPal link for you to donate as much, or as little, as you can. (Isn't that nice of me!) Everything is tax deductible, so when you make a donation you will get a happy little note from the folks at World of Difference that tells the mean old tax man to get off your back! You did good things with your money!

*Rest assured, you can count on two things. 1) Further and unabashed begging. 2) A full, detailed account of the schenanigans upon my triumphant return. That alone should be enough to convince you to cough up some cash for Kenya....just to see how this train wreck turns out.

**If this doesn't work, I may resort to whoring myself out. Don't make me do it....it won't be good for anyone.

(You can donate to the general fund at worldofdifferenceonline.org but that doesn't go toward my portion. So do it here first, because you love me, and then with all those extra Benjamin's you have floating around, go ahead and donate there, if you feel so inclined! And if you are anti-PayPal or in some crazy place like Canada or Kathmandu, you can send a check to World of Difference 498 East 10,000 South Salem, UT 84653 Just make sure to put my name in the memo!)

That is all.....thankyouverymuch

Life Perfected

Regardless of all my complaining as of late, my life would be complete if I had this.

Asus Waveface Ultra Smartphone Bracelet
Asus demoed a collection of futuristic gadgetry at CES, including the Waveface Ultra smartphone, a flexible bracelet that wraps around your wrist.

It makes calls (naturally), accesses the Web, and even flattens into a tablet. (Take that, Apple.) Of course, this Dick Tracy-esque gizmo is strictly conceptual, and there's no word on whether it'll someday find its way to market.

Would a smartphone bracelet look good on you?(courtesy of msnbc.com)

All I have to say about that? Heck yes a smartphone bracelet would look good on me, as long as they make it in colors that would match my Wonderwoman suit.

Crap No One Needs: Volume 3 (a.k.a Totally Honest Tuesday)

You would think that this would be a prime candidate for, Crap No One Needs, but in actuality, it's the exact opposite. Crap I TOTALLY Need. How I have considered myself a responsible dog owner for the past 4 years? I've been lying to myself, and my dog. Obviously.

And in case my posts of late have yet to convince you that I am indeed the chubby, snarky, stuck in a rut high school teacher and spinster aunt, in need of a change, that you thought I was, let me offer you another example. Crap I Totally Need. As much as it displeases me to admit it, my Great Buns Jeans have become my, Holy Moly Muffin Top Jeans. My Fat Jeans, have become my, Dear Sweet Jesus* Just Allow Me One Last Breath Jeans. I would like to blame this seemingly endless expansion and my ever growing ennui on clumsiness, the economy, and innate characteristics that are beyond my control.

But seriously, it's been 5 months. My knee is fine. I need to get my fat can on the treadmill, start applying for jobs in places I would rather live (regardless of how fruitless the market seems), put my big girl panties(pun semi-intended) on and get on with it. You know, take control over the few things that you can control and quit freaking out about the rest. That sort of thing. But when have you ever known me to do what is rational?

P.S. Please know that, I love you for the intent behind pep talks about, The Power of Positive Thinking. But if you actually suggest this to me, I most certainly will have to physically restrain myself from flicking you in the forehead.

P.P.S. Please don't give me the, "What are you talking about? You look great!" line. Because between the two of us, I've seen me naked. I adore you for your delusion, but a treadmill needs to be involved here.

P.M.S. (because P.P.P.S would be obnoxious and this seemed more appropriate)Please know that if you give me any version of, "I can't believe you still live in that hell hole. What have you been there this long for?" I may not talk to you for a while, because A) get off my back and quit being condescending B) If you're actually reading this, we are probably friends (or friendish). You know what I've been doing. And you know how much it annoys me when people ask questions that they already know the answer to. C) I've tried. Trust me when I say that I've tried...more than once.

I think I need to go get a cupcake and quit with this


* After careful consideration and various conversations with friends much wiser than I, this does not count as taking the Lords name in vain. In this case, it was an honest, sincere, pleading for oxygen. Therefore, totally kosher.

Yes, it's exactly like this.

Christmas Surprises!

I have a friend who calls me periodically for no other reason than just to get a Brendan story. He is quite possibly the funniest little person ever. How things pop into his mind, I will never know.

A few months ago Brendan said to his mom, "Hey mom, You know what I want to get Auntie Jill for Christmas? One of those cans that shoots snakes out at you when you open it. That will be awesome." And so it began. The hunt, the hints, the high-ginks and the hilarity. Every few days one of the kids would call and tell me that Brendan had the best gift for me. "It will be awesome!"

Christmas morning finally rolled around and Brendan made sure that everyone was looking as I opened my gift. Maximum drama was the desired goal. And if I do say so my self, it was awesome. I'm not sure how it popped into his head or why he thought I would be the perfect recipient of the snake can. It was awesome to see how excited all of the kids were when the snakes jumped out of the tube and into my face. But, I'm pretty sure my favorite part was knowing that they had been planning and giggling about it for weeks.

And even though I don't have a video of the great surprise, it was a little bit like this....only cuter because all three kids were jumping up and down and squealing with glee at my 'shock and awe!'

Surprised Kitty - watch more funny videos

Cease and Desist All Party Planning, Immediately

This is basically everything that I never knew I always wanted. The perfect combination of most of my favorite things, TV, The Office and Clue. You can't beat that. Bummer for all the presents that came after this one...it's gunna be hard for you not to suck by comparison.

I hereby challenge any and all of you to pick a night, come over here, and make a feeble attempt to beat me at Office Clue. You won't win...but it'll be fun.....I'll try not to rub your nose in it when I whip you handily.

(Yes- it's true. I am a 31 year old woman, with a career and responsibilities ...and I am super excited about Clue. I am who I am. I've learned to embrace it)

Not just a few.

Bouncing around in my head are musings, motto's, reflections, and resolutions from my time visiting family, holidaying, and lounging about the Great Pacific Northwest, as we ushered in the next decade. But at the moment, I am much too tired for brevity and whit...instead you get a long winded, random, stream of consciousness. Deal widdit....or move along. Better details and stories are forthcoming, but for our purposes now, this is mostly to help organize all of my rage, disgust and righteous indignation. There maybe a little pep. It was Christmas after all. Probably not a lot of PEP, I didn't get the unicorn I have been asking for since I was 9, but pep nonetheless. I am starting a list of questions for God when I meet him. It will start off with the obvious, "What the hell was Hitler's problem? Mosquito's? Really? What's with the horizontal headband phenomena? And why so many damn trees in Washington? (It's a mystery to me that anyone finds their way around that place....completely devoid of any type of horizon, seriously.)

All I can think about at the moment is how grateful I am that my dog is asleep on my feet, keeping them warm and toasty in my own obscenely comfortable bed and how AWESOME it was to be able to be bumped to first class for my flight back home to California. Granted, not a long flight, but after a Christmas break full of speeding tickets, puking, ER visits (with a smoking hot med student who was 'practicing his bedside manor' and therefore would not laugh at the mad jokes I was spittin', I totally deserved to fly with the have's and spend a little less time with the not's. I can't even even lie, if you know me, you should know that I was totally funny in the ER. It was an awkward doctor visit to begin with....and then with Edward back there just 'watching me sleep' made things feel even more dirty. The kind of dirty that doesn't wash off).

After that little slice of fresh hell, there was 45 minutes worth of driving around random neighborhoods in Vancouver. Have I mentioned how much I HATE being lost? It's only an estimate, but I'm fairly certain I drove 17,642 circles around the house where I was supposed to meet my sister for the 2010 festivities. Having left my GPS and phone at my sisters, I was pretty much flying blind (almost literally due to the fog and all the damn trees that look exactly like one another) trying to find the house where I was to ring in the new year with 15 children all under the age of 12 and RockBand. Whooot! (Even still a much better option than any YSA activity)

Mental note- a)use landmarks that are stationary, Semi-trucks (while they may look packed down for the night)

have a tendency to leave right when you NEED THEM NOT TO!

b)Have we gotten a final decision ...swearing inside

your head doesn't count, right? Can someone please run that past the bishop..

.I think I have used up most of my free passes.

Ugh- On to the fender bender debacle. The key players are these....1) a drive thru 2) A car (unbeknownst to me) with non functioning windows, heater, defroster, and sketchy headlights 3) The first diet coke (Which about gagged me because unexpectedly it was really a Dr Pepper) in an entire week....in a cup that was just a smidge too big for the cup holder. Add all that up, then multiply by rain and you get me driving my brother-in-law's Mormon Assault Vehicle into their friends similar MAV. It was really more of a bumb, glide, rub of bumbers....but thank goodness all 8 of the Dunfords are super cool....and we just wiped it off and carried on to watch a movie back home. Following little slice of humiliation, there were repeated attempts to guilt me into going to a Young Single Adult Activity (enough with the Morm references....sorry) on New Years with a bunch of people I don't know,will never see again, live three states away from, and will NO DOUBT be the one of the oldest people there. All the while my nieces and nephew, who I get to see maybe twice a year, ring in the new year together. EHHHHH No Thanks. On a number of fronts.

Oh and don't let me forget to tell you about the Bomb Assessment Specialists had the pleasure of dealing with a nice man heretofore referred to as bomberman. Bomberman was asked to open his bag, but this apparently didn't sit well with his sense of fair play. The bomberman refused to allow his bag to be checked with the x-ray or by hand. In fact when the TSA moved to check it, bomberman snatched it back and made a move to exit quickly. After that he was, 'kindly asked to put his hands in the air and then lay face down on the floor.' Apparently that didn't sit well with bomberman either because he tried the snatch and grab thing again. (Did he really see that working out for him?) Anyhow- the TSA guy mentioned that he really needed to calm down and work with them. He didn't feel much like laying down for the cuffs. Following some gentle coercion.....he was belly down and cuffed. And the wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round. Merry Christmas Moron.

So yeah- I upgraded to 1st class. Best money I have ever spent in my life. Got me away from the knuckle dagger's, mouth breathers, the dirty, unwashed masses, and general ne'erdowells. That is to say nothing about avoiding the accordion player, the three guitarists, a kid carrying a drum, and a toddler with an old school recorder, (all of these were carry on's...and none of them were together. Strange.)

Bottom Line- First Class.....completely worth it.

We were in color, but everything else....totally the same.

Hope your freaking Christmas was Merry, and have a happy blasted New Year. Sure looks like mine is shaping up to be a goodie!

*Probably is a good thing I switched to 1st class and didn't stay squished with the others. Turns out I forgot to put deodorant on! Nice. Guess I shouldn't point the dirty, unwashed finger so quickly.