My first Kubie Christmas

Well actually I spent some of Christmas with the Kubie's last year, but this is my first year as a Kubie! (Cool!)
I was stressed because it seemed like our families were going to have conflicting schedules, but it all turned out just fine.
Except that I got the flu, so most of Christmas day I slept.
But anyway it was still GREAT! David loves what I got him and he picked out my presents perfectly!
We were able to spend lots of time playing with people we love and remembering why we love them.
All and all I couldn't have asked for a better "first Christmas" and I'm excited for more to come!
I love being cheesy...

Humble pie please...

Last week we lost power for a few days.
Monday I lost my job.
Tuesday I had a breakdown.
Wednesday I got my job back, but I made a lot of potential employers very angry with me in the process.
Wednesday Night I had strawberry lemonade spilled all over me at a restaurant.
Today I burned a fist sized hole right through the lace on a wedding gown-the wedding is next week.
From now on I stay in bed.

Lonely and Christmas Eve Rant

Lonely
For awhile now I've been feeling very lonely-not in my marriage but everywhere else. I think that when I got married I alienated everyone else from my life. I was just too caught up in marriageville or something. But I realized that none of my friends call me anymore (you have to call people to receive calls) and even most of my family just assumes that I'm too busy and I don't get invited over to family dinners and stuff anymore. It sucks.
So Sunday a couple from the branch invited us over for game night on Thursday. I was thrilled! But Thursday's I work until close, so we got there about 1.5 hours after everyone else (I think 4 other couples were there). They'd already started a game and I just sat there, kind of observing. It was so weird to be in a room with people and just feel like I wasn't even there. I used to be so social, but the few times I even tried to join the conversation I would get all flustered and start blushing! I haven't done that since middle school. It's so strange to feel like you don't fit in with the people your age. Everyone around me is moving forward-starting their families-finishing school-working in their careers-something-and I feel like I'm standing absolutely still. It sucks.

Christmas Eve Rant
I don't remember my family ever doing anything on Christmas Eve. Never. Never-Ever-Ever. So when we were discussing what to do about Christmas it seemed very simple. His family always goes to Kansas City for Christmas Eve. So we'd do that, then spend Christmas day (well morning at least-David wasn't real willing to give up the whole day) with my family. So this is the year my family decides to do Christmas on Christmas Eve. My relatives from Oklahoma want to come up on Christmas Eve instead of waiting until the day of or a few days after to do Christmas. And I have to work until 2 and David has to work until 4. I was so upset when my mom told me I actually almost started crying. The first year David's whole family will be together for like 3 years or something. It's ridiculous and completely unfair. It freaking sucks. I'm having a bad day.

Duh...

So I couldn't figure out where the body of my blog went... Uhm the text color was white. LOL. Ok. All better now...
P.S. Our power is back on!!!

Life Without the Internet AND Life Without Everything For 7-10 Days

Life Without the Internet
So a little over a month ago David and I decided to get rid of the internet at our house. $40 a month for the internet we didn't use that much since we both had unlimited access at work. Then about a month ago I quit my job where I blogged at! *gasp* Hence the lack of blogging. My other job allows me to check things on the internet, but not write a nice long ramble. *sigh*
Maybe we'll rethink having the internet at home.
So you're probably wondering where I'm blogging from then. And thus leads me to part two:

Life Without Everything For 7-10 Days
The midwest has been hit by ice. The only time I can remember school being closed as a child was when we had an ice storm and there was no power. Well we're there again. Early Tuesday morning we woke up with no power. But don't worry David jumped right out of bed and started a fire. Shortly after that the power came back on. *smile* But my work was closed and my little sister's school was cancelled, so I was babysitting her when once again our power went out. *frown* We left for my mom's house. Later that afternoon we came back home and it was back on! *celebrate* Around 10:00 that night we heard a large BOOM and all the lights went out, and the heat... So we threw an extra quilt on the bed and called it a night thinking by morning it'd be back on. No such luck. So I called Westar and they informed me (by an automated system whom I'm told is usually pretty accurate to the hour) that our power was schelduled to be back on in SEVEN TO TEN DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh no.
Sooo my aunt was nice enough to let us stay in her guest room until our apartment has heat again and the temperature rises above the 40 or so degrees it is in there right now.
Yep.
That's all.

A random collection of unusual thoughts

No more internet at work
It's been going through the grapevine at work (where I currently am writing this blog) that employees have been taking advantage of the internet, and they may be monitoring it, and there is a possibility that we may lose internet privileges. Oh dear. Too bad my work is done and I have nothing else to do, but play on the internet. They must be talking about those other people I always see on the internet instead of working.


Fairy Tales
I also work at a bridal gallery. So I am constantly working with brides striving to create their fairytale wedding. My sister recently talked to me about her current relationship. She mentioned a conversation she with him and it felt like a fairytale. Well it's over now. Another sister is missing her boyfriend terribly. He's serving a mission for our church. Her fairytale dream would be for him to come home and ride off with her on the back of his white horse. So it seems to me everyone just wants to be rescued. Do fairy tales really happen? It seems to me we create our own destinies. I do know there will be a happily ever after. It just can't happen if we're only waiting around for it.


David's mom's aunt's weed
Mother-in-law and sister-in-law went down to visit M-I-L's mom and aunt this past weekend. They often go down on Sundays to play cards. Grandma was complaining of being in pain, so S-I-L suggested she simply take some weed to feel better. To which great aunt got up and went to her bedroom. She came back with a bag of it and tossed it on the table. "It's about 5 or 6 years old, but it might still be good!"


Tooth Fairy
My five year old sis lost her first tooth this weekend. It reminded me of when my 20 year old sis learned the tooth fairy wasn't real. She woke up one night to find her dad switching out her tooth for some money. She asked him if he was the tooth fairy. When he told her he was she started sobbing! When he finally got her calmed down and asked her why she was so upset she replied, "I can't believe you leave us here alone every night to go get teeth from other kids!"
What is it that causes us to pass these lies down to our children?
What lies do you plan on telling your kids?


Thank you...
Thank you to my friend and fellow blogger RC for introducing me to pyzam.com. Without it I wouldn't have this spify new backround.

I simply remember my favorite things (part one)

David


Chocolate

Fat babies

Reading in a candlelit bath




Singing!

Laughing



Playing in warm rain

The sound of a bell





Cuddling

The bike

The end of the air freshener era...

So I was just sitting here, gazing at the ceiling, thinking about what to write when it dawned on me, I didn't think this is what I would be doing when I grew up. No little kid ponders on that question and comes to the conclusion that they want to be a temp working for the state, making a small income, with no hope of advancement, a raise, or a permanent position. Huh.

But I don't hate my job like I used to, that is mostly thanks to good co-workers, a flexible schedule, blogger, and facebook.

So I went into the bathroom the other day and noticed that there was a new sign hanging on the wall. We already have two. One explaining we have to wait for the door to close completely to lock it, and one requesting we wipe the water off the counter in front of the sink, so we don't get our clothes wet. Well I was going to post a pic of the actual sign, but is shows up really blurry on here, you can go see it on facebook, if you'd like.

Anyway here is what it says:

Please do not use handheld air fresheners in any of the KPERS restrooms. We have several staff that are very sensitive or allergic to various brands and smells. We will continue to use the fresheners mounted on the wall and filled by a vendor.

Thank you,

Yolanda

Well, well, well. Once again we see a case of the minority winning. That drives me crazy! Just because there are a few people who are sensitive to anything, be it air freshener or politics-they throw a hissy fit and get their way. Meanwhile the rest of us sit back and reap the results a few whiny people.

Granted I never was a big fan of the hand held air fresheners in the bathrooms here. People would bring in very strong scents, then spray much more than the recommended amount. (Is there a recommended amount? I don't really know.) Anyway you could smell it clear out in the hallway. And the ladies that I work around would all have a fit. "Who uses that stuff, it's terrible, I can't even breathe..." And I think my supervisor would finally go in there and confiscate it. LOL. Someone would complain enough and next thing you know she goes in there with her huge purse and suddenly *gasp* the air freshener is missing.

So ends the air freshener era. We will now only smell vendor provided smells, and other, uhm, natural bathroom smells.

Moving

Boxes boxes everywhere,
But not a drop to drink.

Moving has to be the crappiest thing ever. I was excited. I like change. I really do. It's refreshing and you can redefine a little bit of your world.
But I'm ready to be done with this redefinition.
I love my new apartment. I really do. The floor plan is great and it seems so much roomier. We have a fireplace, and a starter log waiting at home. (How romantic...)
But also waiting at home are boxes. And boxes. And more boxes. And, yes, even more boxes. I hate boxes. They smell yucky, and they get in my way, and I can't find anything. And by anything I mean clean work slacks, and my shampoo!
I just want everything to be unpacked!
So here's what we're going to do. Start with one box and empty it. Then go to the next box. All the while putting everything in it's proper place. That's really all we can do isn't it?

Secrets...

Do you ever wish you were friends with a stranger so you'd have someone to tell all your secrets too?
I found a website (then I lost it) that had postcards that people anonymously sent with their secrets on them.
Here are some of mine:
I am irrationally obsessed with (blank).
I can't get into (blank) even though I want too.
I feel like (blank) is intimidated by me, which makes them feel bad about themselves.
I feel (blank) and (blank) a lot.

Revelation: I guess that's why we pray...

Rituals

Today I got to my parking garage at work right after my co-worker, the same one who always arrives just ahead of me. She parked in the same spot she always does, the forth spot from the right of the door. I parked where I always do, one spot to the left of the car directly across from the door. The number painted on the wall for my spot is 77, someone took a think magic marker and put another 7 at the end. 777-somehow comforting. She walked in first, sometimes I walk in first, this varies daily. But today she walked in first. She walked past the security guard, he said the same thing he always says to her, "good morning," then after her reply ("good morning") he says "have a nice day," to which she replies, "you too." He always tells me "good morning" too, which I say "hello" just to mix it up a bit. Then he usually makes some other comment like, "it must be busy upstairs, everyone's coming in early," or "sounds like you're getting a cold" or "chilly today." I usually am much to tired and cranky to carry on small talk so my earlier attempt to mix it up ends with my customary smile and nod.
My co-worker starts up the stairs, she always jogs up the first four or so, then slowly takes the rest. She gets to the first level and always goes through that door directly into the bathroom. I continue up the stairs to the second level. I use my key and open the door. J and M are always in J's office talking and laughing, and I always think, what is funny at 6:30 in the morning? I walk to my ghetto station and turn on my computer. I pull my cell phone out of my purse and turn it to vibrate. Then I stick my purse in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet that sits under my desk. I grab the sippy cup I drink out of (yes sippy cup, with a bright green lid, a straw and a picture of a hula hooping giraffe wearing a scarf.) I fill it up with water from the Lindyspring jug, then I sit down at my computer. I enter my password and wait for it to start up. At 6:45 I call David to wake him up, then at 7 I call again to make sure he's out of bed.
The rest of my day at work varies, there are several different things I could do a day, data entry, scanning, pulling sheets, prepping batches, checking my email, writing and reading blogs, playing on facebook, talking to Y. At noon, I usually go visit my dear husband at his work, though a few days a week I work through lunch to make up for the long lunches I spend with him.
Around 3:07 I start to pack things up and turn things off. I walk out to my car and start the drive to my job #2. On the way there I sing as loudly as I can to the radio to wake myself up, I take the highway and risk my life daily trying to merge at that stupid on ramp. I park in the back and walk into my job #2. I always scan my time card just a few minutes after 3:30, though the clock in my car tells me I'm a few minutes early. There are no rituals at this job. Nothing is ever the same everyday. Different co-workers, different customers, different tasks.
I go home absolutely exhausted after working about 12 hours that day, and every week day and I collapse. My dear husband and I used to have an after work ritual, that was when we were going to work and coming home together. Now I leave before him and come home after him. Usually he's not home, much too antsy to be there alone, so I come home to an empty apartment. He is always right behind me though, missing me as much as I've missed him. My body seems to understand that since I'm home, I can finally relax, and I usually spend the next couple of hours doing as little as possible. Around 9:30 we get ready for bed to start the day over.
I like rituals. And I miss my afternoon ones. They help me feel normal, complete. So maybe that's why I've been feeling so unsettled lately. Or maybe it's because I'm so tired. Or maybe it's because I'm getting my period next week so my hormones are all outta whack. I don't know, but I don't think rituals have that much influence on what we feel. Would my morning be off if I didn't have small talk with the security guard every morning, or if my co-worker parked in a different spot, or if I filled up my cup before I turned on my computer? I don't know.
It's probably just the PMS.

You've been hit by a smooth criminal!

Last week I went out to my car in the lovely parking garage where I leave her during work. I was surprised and a little uneasy to find that someone had moved our Support Our Troops ribbon from the back of my car to the driver's side door. Now as I tend to jump to conclusions, that is exactly what I did. I thought someone else who parks here must be anti-war and is angry with me for displaying that message. Maybe this is a warning. Maybe the next time they see it, they'll steal it! Maybe they'll even try to steal our National Guard plates! This is too weird. But as I also tend to get over things quickly I proceeded to get in the back seat and take my 15 minute nap as planned.
After my nap I went inside and called David to tell him what happened. He suggested it was probably a lady from church that parks there too, being funny. Of course he was almost exactly right! (Should've just called him to start with.) I confronted my favorite coworker, (whose car just happened to be parked right next to mine) and asked her if she had move my Support Our Troops magnet. She tried to fake surprise, but I knew I had caught the culprit!
Then last Saturday night I was leaving Walmart with my dear husband and his brother when I realized the Support Our Troops magnet was once again on the driver's side door! This time there was a note under it. Hand written on the back of a Walgreen's receipt was a message: "You've been hit by a smooth criminal!" She had struck again!
Don't worry next time she'll be mine.

Lessons Learned...

Lessons I learned before 7 a.m...
1. Getting up before 6 a.m. sucks, no matter how much you like the song on your alarm clock...

2. 29th street between Gage and Burlingame right by Dillon's is completely closed now, even though they don't have any signs to warn you of that.

3. The detour adds an extra 4 minutes to my drive.

4. My work cardkey does not open doors until 6:56 a.m, no matter how many times you slide it.

Lessons I learned last night...
1. Some men do not understand how women's sizes work and think a 6 is "big"

2. We do not have a knife that cuts bread.

3. Even though the video "Stretch for Partners" claims to be for working out, it's actually a comedy.

4. And I'm married to the luckiest man in the world, because before he even realized he lost the key to his bike, someone put it in the slot under our mailbox!

Quiet Desperation, Confessions of a State Employee...

Disclaimer: The following story is mostly fiction, though based on real events...

There she sat listening to the silence and staring at the blank walls. It wasn't as quiet as when she first started. Now she heard the sounds around her. The constant hum of the scanner, hushed conversations, the click click clicking of keyboards, and doors opening and closing, opening and closing.
Of course the blank walls weren't actually blank, or really even walls at all. They were merely cubicle separators, with tan fabric that had a bluish gray pattern across it. The same sad blue-gray color marked the edges of the walls and brought in a touch of color. Above her computer hung a calender that had been there when she arrived. This month there was a hideous picture of a chihuahua against a bubble gum pink back drop. There was also a matching pink clock that always seemed to be a little on the slow side.
She quietly stood up, because everything was done quietly here, and looked around. No one was coming, the coast was clear. She slowly pulled open her bottom desk drawer and without looking down wrapped her fingers around the new snickers bar she'd tossed in there this morning.
When she'd taken this job she didn't do it with the intention of becoming a secret snacker, it had just happened. It all started out with people constantly bringing in free goodies. Donuts, cake, candies, chex mix, pretzels, it didn't matter what it was, all that mattered was that something was there. Soon she couldn't get through a morning without a coke and some kind of pastry, or the afternoon without a mountain dew and a cupcake!
But recently that had all changed. Someone had complained. First they sent out a memo asking everyone to stop bringing in treats, then they'd sent out a petition email to get rid of the pop machines. And it worked! Now it was gone, all gone.
They hooked her and then stole it away! At first she was relieved, but after a few hours the caffeine headache set in, and she couldn't stand doing her work without something to snack on.
The next day she brought soda in a dark bottle so no one would know she was still drinking it. After that it just spiraled out of control. Now her desk drawers had turned into a pantry, with cans of pop, candy bars, and bags of chips! She loved her stash. It was the only pleasure she got from work. She loved the thrill of sneaking it in when she got there. She loved drinking pop while everyone thought she was drinking water, but more than any of that she loved to eat.
She would watch her coworkers doze at their desks while they drank their bottled water and ate their carrot sticks, but not her. She'd go back to her desk and let the anticipation build up as she held off until she couldn't stand it anymore.
Then she'd ever so quietly, because everything was done quietly here, pull open her bottom desk drawer. She'd reach in without looking down and wrap her fingers around that delicious treat she knew she deserved. And she would smile. And she would eat.

Why I'm no longer elsewhere...

Throughout my life I often wished I was somewhere else. Anywhere else. And while I was in the places I was at, I always felt I'd arrived late and was due to leave early. So I never quite settled, always feeling a little like I was momentarily floating above while looking for somewhere to land.
I have a few memories of my very early childhood, I was born in Utah and I remember the little gray house in Orem, with the pretty yellow curtains in my bedroom.
When I was four we moved to Topeka and lived in a house we called Butrums. My bedroom in that house had purple carpet. I remember we found two baby mice in the basement that we had to put outside. That is where we lived when I had the chicken pox. We didn't stay there long.
We then moved to an apartment behind what used to be called Venture. That's where I started kindergarten. That's where we lived when my sister got bit by the dog next door. Then we moved again.
This was the house on Virginia Avenue. It seemed so big and my bedroom had dark green carpet. I lived in that house longer than I've lived anywhere. It belonged to my stepfather's aunt, and so it was already furnished. I had a white canopy bed with a white bedspread that had little flowers on it. The canopy would get dust and bugs on top of it, but I loved it. It was my princess bed. I stayed there for ten years until things got really bad. I briefly lived in another apartment with my mother, then fled to Utah where I thought I'd find refuge with my father.
Most of high school took place in Spanish Fork, Utah. I remember seeing the title of a magazine article called, Home is Where the Heartache Is. I remember thinking how true that was and looking forward to the next move.
Which took place my senior year, I moved back to Kansas in a house with my grandma, grandpa, uncle, mom, two younger sisters, and three not house broken dogs. When it was time to turn in college applications I applied to schools all over, hoping to narrow down my options. When I got accepted to every school I applied to I finally decided on the one school with an open attendance policy. Who needs good grades? And I was back in Utah.
Freshman year I lived with my grandparents, which I loved, although I felt the strong pull to live "on my own".
So I moved in with five other females. Oy. I lived there for my sophomore year and half of my junior year. At that point I was terribly sick, terribly lost, terribly lonely, and terribly broken. So back to Kansas I went.
I moved in with my great-grandma and for six months did nothing but sleep and service. It was just what I needed. By that summer I was ready to come alive again. I got a job, a social life, and accepted back to my old school. Looking once again to go elsewhere. But then I found what I'd been searching for this whole time. Home. And I found it in my dear husband.
We had a whirlwind romance and all my plans changed. We got married and moved into the apartment we're living in now. And I realize I'm finally where I'm supposed to be. It's not the location, but your perspective. I'm finally home.

Explaining myself...

I say I'm declaring war on the "politically correct and intellectually inept" and I'd like to explain why. I work for the state retirement system in the records department. As of late my main job has been data entry. Entering the beneficiaries for our members should they die with money in their account. Well the most common person to put is your spouse, either your husband or wife, depending. Almost no one lists this person as their husband or wife, they usually put spouse, which I think is sad. I don't want to be my husband's spouse, I want to be his beautiful wife. This is a direct effect of everyone trying to be politically correct and not wanting to offend anyone. (eg Is a wife as good as a husband? I don't know, so we shall all just lose our gender and be a spouse.)
The intellectually inept portion comes from the fact that 20% or so of these individuals who have spouses, list them as their spouce. Oy. I don't know what that is, and frankly I don't want to know. What I do want to know is, what makes these people use a word that they can't spell, over a simple word they've been taught since elementary school? And why is this acceptable? These are state employees mind you. The people running our government offices and our schools!
Thus I declare war. I realize I have no authority to do this, nor will this war ever be won, much like the war on drugs or the war on terrorism. The reason for this is simple. There will always be someone somewhere dealing. There will always be someone somewhere plotting an attack. And there will always be a society where it is expected of us to be politically correct and acceptable to be intellectually inept.
And I'm grateful I live here. So I can write a blog about how much it bothers me.