If I had know it was that kind of party...

I would have prepared my Tyrannosaurus Rex Knight with his dinosword! DnD fail. Why can't I be a dinosaur? I'd have little arms!

I am a little drunk right now.

We had my fellow roommate's going away party tonight. It was fucking awesome.

We played some fucking Wizard Staff. I only got three cans. There were some champions tonight.

We had a mother fucking dance off. We just fucking boogied until we had no fucking clue how to dance anymore.

There was a fire.

And tasty food.

You have no clue how rad tonight was. I'm too fucking drunk to tell you.

Running through daisies

I have been back at home for the past few days now.
It has been genuinely amazing. Although there has been some internal conflict and some confusion, I didn't think I could be this happy.

I did get sick, waking up Thursday morning with a totally obnoxious sinus headache which actually led to a loss of voice and a stuffy nose.

But I've been hanging out with my friends. My truly amazing friends.
You think that leaving your home town you'll learn who your true friends are... but in actuality, it's when you come back. Those are the friends who are still there for you, even after you've been gone and lost contact for almost 3 years.
They ask about you and your trip and then it just feels like you never left them in the first place.

My friends have made me feel amazing. They make me feel really good about myself and I'm quite sure, that even behind the voice loss, the 4 to 8 cups of ginger tea, and the stuffy nose, I am glowing bright like a winter sun.

My friends have made me feel beautiful, smart, funny, talented, and just plain "fucking awesome" since I have returned. All of that in just a few days.
I look forward to getting over this cold so I can be my usual 110%.

I have also had the more important things taken care of. I went to the DMV to get a new license and Bank of America to get a new debit card.
I am finally moved into my brother's house, although I do need to finish painting the walls of my room and move in a desk and such.

I am so impressed with how things have turned out here.

I have gotten sick, and I woke up last night at 4 am to blow my nose and my brother just knocks on my door and basically hands me a hot cup of theraflu.

When the Theraflu kicked in and I started dozing off, I had images of me and my steaming hot cup of theraflu running hand in hand through a field of daisies.

Definitely a promising start to my life.

Am I shrinking?

A part of me hopes so! That means I can finally buy smaller pants and not feel like such a whale anymore.

I had a great day yesterday. I got major errands taken care of.
I applied for a new Driver's License with my new name on it. I also went to the Bank to apply for a new debit card and credit card with my new name on it.
I also exchanged my left over Funny Money for dollars. all of which got deposited directly to my account.

I also had the best breakfast I have had in years. The most amazing sausage and cheese omelette with cinnamon raisin bread and... wait for it... a cup of sweet tea. Oh Pankake Palace, how I love and adore you.

I then also dropped by Best Buy to get an FM transmitter for my mp3 player. In the process I received a new Best Buy Rewards card and quizzed the girls there on how to pronounce my last name. It seems I am not longer the esteemed Anna Mylläri I once was, but I am now, "Anna Mylar". I wonder if the plastic company will pay me for advertising such a great thing.
I know, I for one, am the Awesomest Anna as it is.

I then met up with Mun Sisko. I helped her get dressed and look a little more fabulous (those shoes she wore were amazing. Totally jealous!)
We went to Targét and I purchased necessary feminine hygiene products. You know, soap, shampoo, face wash, hair straightener...
Then we went and got our nails did!
The name of the color is Russian Navy. It looked purple in the store, in the bottle, but once we got outside, it looked blue! DAMN YOU RUSSIAN NAVY! GETS US EVERY TIME! Fantastic color though. It almost looks black. Totally up to code with this season's fashion trend.
I would definitely give up candy and soda to get a manicure pedicure every two weeks. (Is that acceptable?)

We grabbed some lunch and then went back to her house.
We colored her hair, it looks better but still not what we want yet!
And we went through her clothes. She got rid of a lot of crap, thanks to me.
If someone had told me, 5 years ago, that I would be my sister's eyes for fashion I would have laughed and not believed it.
But here I am, helping my sister look amazing again and giving her fashion advice I never knew I would have.

It has been decided though that since I will be a hairdresser I must know what is on trend. Can't go around looking all last season when someone wants a haircut, you know?
It's all about the accessories.

My sister and I also LOL'd about Vagazzling. Please, if you don't know what it is, Google it on your own time. It's most likely (N)ot (S)afe (F)or (W)ork.

Today I plan to collect applications and apply for jobs.

Now tell me, am I shrinking, is my coffee mug of normal size or is it just huge?

Country roads...take me home

I finally arrived home in Savannah, GA last night. About 7:15 in the evening.
I was greeted joyously by my mother and my sister, who was hopping up and down and dancing and wiggling. My sister, mind you, is 5 years older than I am. I assure you, I'm an adult.

My flight was amazing actually. I never thought I would say such a thing.
First, the taxi driver was just how i want them: quiet.
Then at the airport, checking in was easy. I had 3 suitcases, I was figuring they would charge me for the 2 extra suitcases, which would have cost 200€. The lady says she's charging me for 20 kilo overweight, instead of thirty and tells me to go to the office right over there, they should be open soon.
I figure the office is open at like 5:30 so I take my receipt to pay for my luggage and wait.
The office doesn't open until 5:45 and there's a bunch of anxious flyers ready to go.
The little window opens at 5:45 with a bing and someone said a hail mary.
Then I was only charged 40€ which blew my mind.

I made it through security and got to my gate on time.
The flight itself was nice because I had a window seat and my row had 3 seats but the other person was a guy sitting in the aisle seat. He also put my carry on away in the overhead compartment. He was nice and it was a pleasant flight and dare I say I even napped a bit.

I got to Frankfurt and had enough time to get off the plane, go through security and then get to my gate. No ham and cheese sandwich for me, which is fine, because my flight from Frankfurt to Charlotte was fantastic as well.
Everyone was nice and cheerful and chatty and it made me more at ease. We even had a Missionary and his wife on the plane, totally felt safe then. :D
Also, on the flight, I had a window seat and my row was just two seats. The seats were narrow, but the woman sitting next to me had a husband on the other side of the plane. He brings her some wine and they ended up finding two seats for them to sit together.
I had the row to myself and slept happily.
The food also wasn't terrible. It was questionable of course. How on earth do they come up with these meal ideas? I was at a loss.
Chicken with mushroom risotto and some green beans: I get it, makes sense, tasty too.
Cold bean salad: what the fuck is this? I didn't even touch it. I already had green beans. This also had olives. Ew. It didn't make sense to me.
Dessert: Lemon poppy seed muffin. WHAT? How is this even a dessert?

Based on the compilation of the meal, I am quite sure they got the idea from what someone ate for lunch, someone's left overs, and someone eating a lemon poppy seed muffin RIGHTATTHATVERYMOMENT.

Thanks to my 3+ hour nap the flight went by quickly. The children on the plane were also well behaved. Just one fussy baby which was easily blocked out with my mp3 player.

Arrival in Charlotte, NC was the most amazing feeling. Of course I was completely dumbfounded I even made it there at all. At the airport the people were so nice and so cheerful.
I had to recheck in my luggage and the guy at the counter told me I looked fantastic and that I was working it. Definitely made my day. Everyone told me, "Welcome Home" which just made me feel better.
I cleaned up in the bathroom at the gate and waited to board my flight.
Everyone was so talkative and people were asking about my story.
The flight to Savannah was comfortable and spacious and the fantastic woman sitting told me, "I might have to hold your hand when we take off. Flying scares the shit out of me."
She clutched my hand with everything she had when the plane was taxi...ing(?) down the runway and to the point the plane was finally level.
She chatted with me and then she napped while I spaced out and enjoyed the most amazing sunset I have seen in years. The sky never gets that beautiful in Finland.

Once I got to Savannah everyone who spoke with me wished me the best and I even made a future potential customer for a haircut. Which is rad.

All my luggage made it safely home with me.
I ate some delicious Mexican food and had the best damned Margarita ever.
It's good to be back!

I'm an adult now

I always try to find the right inspiration for writing blogs.
I was thinking about writing a blog to just write about my experiences moving from Finland back to the states.

So, I started. I was going to make it more personal, just for myself and maybe publishing it later... but fuck that.


The first day of the rest of my life.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

I just bought my flight tickets to go back to my hometown, Savannah, GA, last night.
When I was riding the bus back home on a brisk autumn evening in Espoo, Finland, I watched everything fly past me at 30kph.
It dawned on me that in 5 weeks I will no longer see these things again for a long time.
Something which has become a part of my daily routine will be no more in my routine.

I almost cried a little bit.

Change is a really scary thing. Although this change will be easier for me than any other change. It's also far more interesting and more preferred than no change at all.

Over two years ago I made a decision which will change my life. I made the decision with the intentions that it will change my life for the better.
I put on my big girl pants and set off to Finland. I wanted to find my roots and hopefully discover what it is I would like to do for the rest of my life.

I never expected it to work so well.

My first six months in Finland were like a vacation. I spent my summer in Lohja at my parents' summer cottage. We were doing repairs most of the time; scraping and repainting doors, tons of yard work, a lot of cleaning. We went to the dump so many times. Which I was ok with because it was called, "Rosk and Roll". (The word "trash" in Finnish is "roski").

My best friend, Thomas, came to visit me in September and then he traveled Europe for some time and came back to visit for another week or two before he left back to the United States.
It was when Thomas was visiting when I unknowingly met my future husband.

I had opened up an account on an online dating site in hope of meeting some people to be friends with in the Helsinki area.
I had received a message from a handsome man offering to show me around Helsinki, as a tour guide. In a partially inebriated state, I agreed, informing him of Thomas' presence. Which was fine.

We met the next day, and I was compelled to hug him, but I resisted. That's just creepy in Finland. You don't hug strangers or people you just met.

His name is Lauri. Not to be confused with the American woman's name, Lauri. It sounds more like "dowry".

I was instantly comfortable with Lauri. After Thomas left for Europe I spent almost every evening with Lauri.
Going out for dinner, stopping by a café to get hot chocolate and looking over my Finnish homework together.

He invited me over to his place one night for his famous hamburgers and to watch The Orphanage. He's not a fan of scary movies, so I offered to hold his hand if The Orphanage got scary for him.
There was some serious sexual tension between us, but I didn't want to seem like a slut and make with the sexy times so soon.

Eventually I was staying almost every night at Lauri's house, dropping by my parents' house to pick up clean clothes and what not. They didn't seem to mind, although they kept asking when they get to meet him.
When they finally got a chance to meet him, they loved him.

Lauri was frequently invited over for Dinner and became a part of the family almost instantly.

Lauri and I did have our differences quit often. Especially since I was depressed due to the culture shock and adapting to a new place. I went to the doctor and was put on medication and went to therapy two or three times.

I did cheer up, but I think it was more psychological than the pills, only because I felt like I was finally battling a problem I was sure I had for years. Eventually the combination of antidepressants and birth-control fucked me up royally and I was worse than before. I quit taking anything which had hormones in it.

I had quit the antidepressants too quickly, rather than wean myself off of them, I pretty much stopped cold turkey. I was in bad condition for a few weeks. I recovered slowly and was eventually in a much better state of mind.

After dating for a year, we got engaged. A few months later we decided we were going to move back to the United States. We needed to save up money and figure out the Visa situation for Lauri.
We got married in May 2010.

We've been saving up money.
I've been attending hair school to become a hairdresser.

Things have been quite magical.

I'll now be moving back to my hometown in November 2010.
My husband wont be coming with me, as he will still be working in Finland, saving more money.
I'll be going home to get a job to save up money as well and will be meeting Lauri in California when the time comes.

Although we have been married since May, once we finally make it to California together, we can finally start our life together.

The moment we confirmed the payment for my flight ticket to my hometown was the beginning of the rest of my life.

It's a gateway drug...

Coffee.

Coffee is a gateway drug.
I don't mean you're going to start smoking pot, shooting up heroine, and eating LSD.

For someone who has decided to stop drinking soda and other sugary drinks, coffee will fuck that up.

It starts out pretty innocent...
You drink a cup or two of home-brewed coffee in the morning before school/work.
One day you sleep in and don't have time to make your coffee so you grab something fancy, like a Cáfe mocha, since, you know, you hardly drink them anyway.
Then after a while you realize how easy it was to sleep a little bit later and just have someone else make you this delicious chocolaty caffeinated beverage...
So you start taking it every day.
You start to crave more sugar, and so you have a diet coke with your lunch every now and again, still drinking a lot of water too.
Then you want even MORE sugar... so you switch it up to be a regular coke...
THEN you're having a cafe mocha every morning and a regular coke with your lunch every day.
The sugar cravings get horrible.
You want more candy and chocolate and ice cream and you want more caffeine too.
So then you have a coke later on after lunch every so often...
Then every day...
Then one day you buy an energy drink, which you haven't had one in over two years...
You've hit rock bottom.

"Then next thing you know you're hiding in basements drinking hardcore energy drinks!"

Coffee turned me onto caffeine and sugar. It got so bad that I was gaining weight, always tired, and my skin looked awful.

So I quit coffee.
I will, from now on, only drink green tea for my caffeine.
Low fat milk, cranberry juice, water, and green tea with honey.

I started yesterday. I happily consumed four "grande" cups of green tea.
Today I only consumed two and a half.
I am sleepy, but I've also been exhausted from school.

The honey in my tea definitely helps me fight any sugar cravings.
I will eat a little bit of ice cream after I finish my dinner.
I'M NOT HOUDINI, OK! BACK OFF!

I quit coffee, and I think you should too. Unless you have fantastic self control. Asshole.

Dont' want a paper gangster...

I'm currently printing out 19 pages of information in relation to getting my husband's Visa.
19 pages of stuff to read on the computer is hell. Fuck that.

I'm printing out the whole Affidavit of Support stuff.

I'm a bit surprised, actually. I did think this was going to be ridiculously difficult work.
The only pain in the ass is reading everything to make sure you don't fuck up.
The only people I know with any experience in the Spousal Visa area is my parents... and things have changed in the past ten years.

What I have learned in my experience with getting a Visa. A Spousal Visa, actually.

Originally, we were thinking to get the Fiancé Visa, but it came to be our understanding that since I am a permanent resident (for now!) in Finland, it would be easier for us to get married and apply for the Spousal Visa.
So we happily got married, had a nice little wedding, real pretty.
I had my name changed to his, I no longer "live with my parents". A lot of fun and exciting things.
I'm a real person now! I'm almost an adult!

So, anyway, the process began.
We did all sorts of research. We discovered which forms we needed to fill out, the fees, etc.
First step was the I-130, the Petition of all petitions.
We also filled out the G-325, our biological information.
Included necessary stuff and mailed it in, along with a receipt to prove we paid the fee.

Who knows what we did wrong?
Yes, we fucked up by mailing it in.
But you know what was rad? I just had to show up to the Embassy a week after they got it, because they called me. I had to bring my passport (and apparently money).
They refunded the money, since it was to the wrong account, and then gave me all the forms which were needed for my husband to fill out, and plenty of instructions.

The lesson learned: Contact the Embassy if you're even remotely unsure about something.
Nothing is in black and white, except the text, as long as it's on a white background. I found that the forms really like the color blue...

So my husband is doing his part, working on the medical stuff and all the important papers he needs to prove he's not a criminal or will be bringing with him some crazy European disease, like Polio or Swine Flu (he needs the vaccinations :D).

My current job is supply The Affidavit of Support (I-864). The tricky part is I am not a permanent resident (although I am an American Citizen) and I have no income whatsoever.
So I have to rely on my family, or someone close to it for this.
Which is tricky, seeing as how the economy took a nice dump on my family.
We're not poor by all means, but our best choice was let go from his job (as we were expecting due to foreseen events) the day after he went to an interview, fingers crossed he gets the job!
Our preferred choice has been unemployed for two years, although they have the funds to take care of my husband, as the guv'ment desires.
So I'm just doing the research to see if my family member qualifies...

Let's hope for the best!

Once I highlight important information in these 19 pages of Affidavit of Support information, I'm going to "buy" new furniture, to see how much money it would cost us. Shipping versus buying new shit...

Teacher's Pet

We have a new teacher at the school.

The old teachers have put in their two weeks notice, two have completed that and they have left already. Two down, one to go. She'll only be there for one week when she returns from vacation.

Good riddance.

Stop putting damn question marks on my name. Stop telling the other students to "not give her(me) customers".

Maybe if she actually gave a damn and TRIED to teach instead of just getting all uppity and excited and doing the fucking hair cut herself or mixing the hair dye herself etc etc I would have learned something by now and been enjoying going to school.

Also, maybe, just maybe, if the teachers didn't look more bored than we did during Theory, we would have enjoyed showing up more. Maybe, instead of just reading highlighted paragraphs on this 30 sheet packet, you talked about it, we'd be more interested.

The new teacher, who is actually a teacher which was there three years ago, is fantastic.

In three days he's talked about the different techniques on how to do even just one specific style, the differences between them, how they end up looking. He actually tells you what it is that you just did wrong and tells you how to fix it. You know, rather than just yelling at you and then doing it themselves...

He also encourages creativity.

I made a hairstyle which the "principle" liked.

What does the new teacher say? "It's nice... but it's boring."

Son of a bitch I have to step up my game.

You know what else?

New Teacher has delicious pheromones.

When he gets close enough to me my ovaries light up and squeal, "LET'S MAKE BABIES!"

I cannot wait for this ridiculous thing to stop.

He's a great teacher and I'm thrilled.

I'll be done with school in no time.

It's History

When I was walking home from the bus stop I was happily reminiscing (not sure how to spell that and I'm using my cell phone for this post) about my careless life in the past. I was specifically laughing about a dating mistake. It didn't last more than twenty four hours, when everyone else heard about it.
Poor Lee. There was a power outage in the neighborhood and a full moon. He got romantic, we kissed. When my friends heard about it they tut tutted me. I broke up with Lee. He was sweet, but probably trouble. He was also the only guy I ever kissed who had braces. That was weird. :3
I continue reveling in the past this morning. I listen to old, embarrassing music because it's the only way I can hold onto my childhood.
I don't openly share my music collection because, well, I listen to ABBA. Nothing to be ashamed of...if you're Swedish.
Although I do find my longing for my care-free childhood stronger when I'm feeling down, lonely, confused, anything that might require some snuggles.

Q: How many ADD kids does it take to change a lightbulb?

A: Wanna go ride bikes?

Yeah, I am super proud of myself right now.

This is my bike:

It's older than I am. I'm 23.
This bike is at least 40 years old. I've had to do a bit of work to it. All I need are lock washers for my super sweet bike. I did a test ride to the grocery store down the street from my house, no more than a ten minute walk, and a little girl was with her parents and was talking so excitedly about my green bike lock. Pssh, I was like, fuck yeah it's awesome.
I also have a sweet basket for it. Looks like a picnic basket without the lid. In fact!

It's pretty fucking sweet basket, right?

Well I rode my bike to Iso Omena from my house, because I also needed to buy a helmet. Now I'm a pretty big fan of irony...

Here is the helmet before...

Yes, it's black with a skull and cross bones with! a viking helmet. Fuck. Yes. I'm rad, don't lie.

Here is the helmet after:

Little happy clouds, one has a rainbow

Rainbow with hearts

Happy Sun :)

I admit, I cannot get very good pictures of the cute little stickers I stuck on my helmet. I need some fabulous sunlight and like hell if I'm going outside again any time soon. It's hot and I'm exhausted.

Contacts

Two posts in like, one hour, go me!

I am blind. Not legally, no, but without my glasses or my contacts everything is blurry. I can wander aimlessly without my vision machines, mostly likely wont crash into anything, but I can't read or see clearly without them. I'm pretty blind without them. I actually can't see colors very well without them.

Anyway, enough about how stupid my eyes are, I do plan on getting my retinas lasered at some point.
But for now I have my glasses and my contacts.

My contacts at this very moment are the reason I'm even making this post.
I'll start with my glasses first, though.
My glasses are cute and trendy right now, sort of. They're big, with thick, dark purple frames. I loved them when I found them. Then after some time I learned that they give me a unibrow shadow in the right light if I have my hair pulled back and that's stupid and ugly and I hate it. You just can't pluck shadows!

So my husband now has a chance to choose my glasses for me. He wants me to have something smart. I've been thinking about the glasses without the frames. Open up my face a bit.

Anyway... so I just bought these new contacts a couple of weeks ago. supposed to make my eyes bright green. She said it was going to be really bright. Hardly a difference than my own eye color except, well, they're more noticeably green. They hide the hazel.
I like them though, they're subtle, but extreme at the same time.
Although they have this one flaw. It's either my contacts or my eye.
My right eye likes to suck all the juice out of the contact so that it's basically adhered to my eye and I have to dump a bunch of eye drops into my eye and try to get some liquid under the contact so I can even take them out, don't worry, it doesn't hurt and I have no intentions of scratching my retina. Gonna get it LAZERED! one day...
But so, anyway, this crap just builds up under my contact and I'm stuck with a family of those wiggly eyeball worms that float on your eye and you can't look directly at it because no matter how hard you try it keeps moving. Then it just annoys you and you want it to go away so you squeeze your eyes shut and you can still see it and all you want to do is scream!

Anyway... I think I need to take my contacts out. I'm pretty sure I can only wear them for like 8 hours before life fails.

Huey, Would you like to buy a Buick?

Dear Facebookers,

Some of you do something that make me want to sell Buicks. (For those of you not in the know, it means I would like to puke.)
Now, to get specific, it is you married folks that do it for me.
I get it, you're happily married. You love your significant other and couldn't be any happier.

I know this, because I, too, am happily married and I love my husband and couldn't be any happier. Here's the thing though, I have absolutely no intentions of setting my status as "ickle wickle cutesy poopsy wuv notes to my sweet hubby wubby shmumpkins because I wuvs you so much yes I do!"
That's the kind of thing that you post on their wall.
Unless your "cutesy poopsy wuvvable hubby wubby" is fixing the sink or changing a lightbulb, I don't want to hear it.

So please, if you want everyone to know how much you "wuv your sweet widdle cutesy poopsy amazeringest" husband/wife, just post it to their wall. We'll still see it.

It's posts like that which make me want to vomit.

There are other things my fellow facebookers do which exasperate me.

The Caps lock enthusiast:

I don't know what your deal is. There is no need to shout. Typing in all caps lock doesn't even look better. If you, for some reason, are unable to read regular text, just magnify the screen. You have the scroll button, click it and scroll until you can read.

The Baby Picture:

There are /very/ few exceptions to this rule. Actually, I only know one exception out of all my friends who can post their child as their user picture and I know who it is just by the picture.
If you want your user picture to have your child in it, please, be in the picture too.
There are too many times where things like that can get awkward. "Hey baby, last night was awesome," as a wall post when the picture is their child can be kind of creepy...

The Pet Picture:

See Baby Picture.

The Twitterer:

This is Facebook, not Twitter. I mean, for real?

My personal favorite...

Dumb and Deep:

You post song lyrics sometimes. You post your own personal feelings. You say something romantic...
I would be impressed if you spelled it correctly and didn't abbreviate.
"I'm right here in front of you and I can't stop shaking. come on and hold me still. Take my heart love, until I, cuz I feel as though I've never seen beauty until this night"
So close, yet so far away.
That is a direct quote.
There are also the ones which their posts are nothing but song lyrics. The best part is when it's nothing but song lyrics from the same band every time. Your status updates are nothing but The Beatles (Across the Universe, let's get specific) lyrics. It would be one thing if it was all just The Beatles, but no, it's only anything and everything from Across the Universe.
Stop it. Disco Stu hates Disco.


Don't worry. I don't expect you to stop what you're doing. People like you for who you are. I just hide your updates. It's easier that way. I like to keep my braincells.

1 + 1 = 3

So I'm happily married for 1 month and 9 days now.
It was at the wedding that the questions began, "When are you having kids?"

The most often used answer I provide is: "When we're ready."

I am very aware that more often than not no one is ever ready to bring a baby into the world.
I'm sure people prepare and prepare for a baby. Making the baby's room yellow because they don't want to assume whether or not they're having a girl or a boy.
Taking every class there is. Child CPR, you know, just in case, because you're never going to be so awful as a parent to let your child have tiny toys to om nom no--choke on.
Buying all the protective stuff, like the things you slap onto corners so they don't impale their face... or so you don't impale your shins on the coffee table when running after the little tyke because he/she is high tailing it right for your big fancy screen and hi fi system because Elmo is there and maybe the kid is going too fast and that TV is expensive and you can't live with a crappy TV ever again...
..ahem...
Cooing over baby names and what you want to name the child if it's a girl...or what if it's a boy... then maybe Dan...
I don't know.

There's a lot to prepare for when having a child and the only thing you can never prepare is yourself, your mind.
I'm sure there's a slight adrenaline rush when you finally miss the first day of your period and all you want to do is buy that little stick to pee on.
You pee on the stick and some how all over your hands, but you don't care, you might be pregnant!
So you wait patiently for, what is it, three minutes... ok, maybe not patiently, but I'm sure your just as excited husband even set the timer just so you can be sure.
You get that OMG YOU'RE PREGGERS line and it's nothing but joy and you can finally finish peeing.*

Then there's 9 months of side effects.
Different for everyone, but there are the usuals... vomiting, drinking vinegar, weird habits, crankiness... mood swings... etc.
There are also the it-happens-but-you-don't-want-to-be-the-one-to-admit-it things... like scared to have sex because the baby might kick him in the wiener or something...

THEN the one part you're never ready for: actually giving birth.
You just spent nine months rubbing your belly and cooing at your belly, and you may or may not know the sex of the baby, but you played Mozart for the baby because that's supposed to make it smart...
Then your water breaks and you're not sure if you just peed or you're ready to give birth, but all hell breaks loose, you're in pain, there's adrenaline and excitement and fear, and then all of a sudden you're thinking, "what the fuck, what if we're not ready for this baby!?"
Then you're in pain and when your squeezing out the baby and praying you don't poop on the table you're making sure you did everything right and also hating your husband or baby's daddy at least for doing this to you and it's all hell for like 16 hours until that sucker has been unclipped from your innards, cleansed of the placenta which some religions suggest you eat...I just gagged...
Then you have this wee little wrinkly baby in your arms, your vagina feeling like it could easily hold an 8 pound bowling ball and in agonizing pain, and all you want is a cheeseburger.

Hopefully, that's what it's going to be like for my husband and I. So, like I said, when we're ready.

*I don't know if any of this is true, but it's how I like to think things are when you're actually trying to make a baby.

Dreams in the heart...

I had a crazy, insane dream last night.

All I know is that House was in it, we got incredibly intimate. We hadn't had sex or anything, but were super affectionate towards each other. It was strange. I remember Wilson seeing us and just looking shocked.
House and I are sitting on the floor talking. I forgot what the subject was about, but it made him unhappy, apparently. He wrote on a post-it note, "9:00 Let's just be friends?"
I was kind of upset by it, because I felt like he hadn't given me a chance yet. Also, part of me was all, (I can't be single! I just couldn't be single! Lauriii!)
So instead of getting upset and crying about it, I decide to change House's mind. I take his wrist and drag him to the bed room. THEN we start to get properly intimate.
Then the weirdest thing ever happens...
I take off my pants and basically pee on myself. Completely uncontrolled. Like it fell out of me. I try to dry it up and House notices and tells me that it's a side effect of Meth, and then my nipples start to lactate, which was also a side effect. He told me he didn't mind but I was unhappy about it and trying to figure out how the hell I've been doing Meth when it occurs to me that it's my painkillers prescribed to me by my doctor.
I get uncomfortable and walk to go use the toilet because now all my orifices are basically leaking uncontrollably... I realize the building we are in is taken hostage!
There's all these people be held at gun point, and I just wanted to use the toilet, and at least the guys near the bathroom let me know. I assured them I was trust worthy.
While hanging out on the toilet, pooping apparently, Talb and Thirteen walk up to the bathroom window, Talb looks at me confused and I just say, "Hey, Everybody poops."
I then told them the situation about the guys with guns.

Then everyone was transported to somewhere else. I end up using the tiny toilet there. The stall was ridiculously tiny. I had no elbow room. Then I climbed out of the bathroom window, I was playing on some sort of see saw type deal that actually over time went higher and higher. It made the infinity symbol as it ascended into the air.
I took advantage of it and leaped onto a near by tin roof and climbed to the top, unseen, I looked back before I decided to run into the woods. As I was running on this path I saw this creature that was gray and white, patterned like bark. I kept running, and saw again as he was climbing into the forest, blending in with the trees, looking like branches or tree trunks.
I kept running and somehow ended up in a museum and I was scared, so I stayed where I was, which happened to have been sitting on  an old carriage wearing a hoop skirt and bonnet. The only thing that gave me away was my hair.

People are showing up at the museum and then Lauri appears, sees me, and tells me it's safe. I looked at him and asked, "Did the guy get eaten by a swamp monster?" and he looks surprised and asked me how I knew. Told him my story.

Then I woke up.

Ah mah gahd!

I happen to have Sir Spaghatta Nadle stuck in my head right now.
I don't know what he sounds like to people, but to me he sounds like the Canadians from South Park.
Now at the moment I have Spaghatta Nadle as my inner voice for thoughts...so I'm basically in my brain shouting with a speech "ampadamant". I'm also enjoying it thoroughly to my amusement.

I was happily on my Facebook when I happened to glance at the Suggestions. Lately it has been, "Many who like PASILA like this." Every time I read it, my eye twitches when I read, PASILA because MY GOD STOP YELLING AT ME! I feel violated.
I feel mistreated. It's not an ad lib, there's no need to verb noun at me. It's like Mad Libs with excited children. "Many people who like... (insert noun)" PASILA PASILA PASILA!!!!!!!
OMFG STOP SHOUTING


I just don't think I can handle RANDOM caps lock abuse in a sentence. It makes me feel vulnerable and awkward.

So whilst my brain shouts with the voice of Spaghatta Nadle I shall continue on with good news.
Although my back is still in pain and my muscle relaxers make me feel nauseas, I went to school today.
I had my own customers, Americans, which made me happy.
At first I was nervous because I was too dumb to realize who Sean and James were.
It's Static Cling! YAY!
Anyway, I was terrified because I'm scared of cutting children's hair.
Little did I know that this was James' first hair cut.
Cutest. Thing. Ever.
He was scared, and only when he saw me cutting his hair in the mirror did he cry and moan, "oooowwwww". I got a little teary eyed. It was so cute.

I don't remember my first haircut, as traumatizing as it may have been. Though I might have been older since I'm a lady and I was supposed to have long hair. Where as James' wings and mullet aren't quite favored on the male species...
I do have a vague memory of Mom deciding to cut my hair and about hacking it all off. I think my sister and I had the same short hair cut. Although, I could be crazy because, well, I don't have any evidence of such a thing...
Where do I get these memories from?
Where are my embarrassing photos to back me up!?

I just thought I would mention that. It made my day.
I'm still screaming with my brain.

AH MAH GAHD AHT'S SAHSAHGE!

I can has a bucket?

I'm always thinking about little things I want to do in my life. At some point.
Not at this moment, but you know, one day. Maybe before I have kids.

I have a "Bucket List" of things I want to do before I die:

-Learn to play piano. It's something I've always wanted to do. I've tried but I feel more inspired to practice when I have a fully functional keyboard. Preferably one with weighted keys and the entire keyboard. I'm not a fan of the dinky electric keyboards that have only like 2/3 of the keys. They make me sad.
-Be a stripper Or a pole dancer. I just think it's something I should do one day. I don't exactly want to show my naughty bits to some perverted men. I wouldn't mind pole dancing in some skimpy clothing for said men and get paid for it. I of course intend on having a bodacious bod before I do such a thing.
-Learn how to Dance As proud as I am of being able to do the lawn mower and basic six step in break dancing, I want to actually learn. I want to be able to bust a move and make jaws drop.
-Bar Tend I would like to be a bar tender as well. I am aware it's something I would have to go to school for, but it is a future goal...

Those are pretty much some of the things I want to do. I mean, there are other things like buying a house, having children, owning my own business, etc, but these are just things I want to do....

Fish sticks and tater tots

I probably think you're better than me. Also cooler than me.

Never mind that I have done some simply mind blowing things in my life.
For instance:
I moved to Helsinki, Finland from Savannah, GA.
The deep south. Oh how I miss it.
How I long for fried chicken and collard greens with corn bread and sweet tea. Road side boiled peanuts...

I made the mistake of using the word, "grits", here in Finland.
"Grapes?" he asks. No... "grits." "Grapes remind me of that grapefruit..." "No...grits. G-R-I-T-S" "Yes...grapes..."
I almost lost my mind. Thank goodness he wanted to say good bye to his grand daughter and smoke a cigarette.
Never saying "grits" in Finland ever again.

The only thing I have is fish sticks and "tater tots" which aren't really tater tots. They're these little potato rounds with onion. They're tasty all the same, but they're not tater tots.

So I am always reading other blogs and I feel like I have nothing to say. I don't think I'm as cool or as interesting or have anything so much fun to say as they do.
I'm trying real hard though.
I am also skeptical about posting my poetry on my blog because it's pretty fucking awesome poetry and I'm worried you'll steal it and claim it as your own. Asshole.

So, I'm going to write about my childhood which, if I think real hard, I can remember it. I was at one point so sure that I had it completely blocked out and all I could remember were the stories my parents told me and what I saw on our home videos which are no longer functioning. Because, honestly, they're VHS tapes. They got destroyed with age.
I remember the huge video camera that was used.
I remember my brother used it. I specifically remember this video clip, which will be told as a story, because there is no longer the video clip:
My dad was knocking down the brick wall between the private bedroom patio and the rest of the backyard to the swimming pool. Happily destroying the bricks with a large sledge hammer, my brother video taping and exclaiming, "IT'S THE BERLIN WALL!"
That's about all I remember.
Which brought a flash back of having this pink stroller type deal which I could put things in, mainly I put tree frogs in there. Because I love tree frogs.

It doesn't seem as amusing as the one time I was babysitting this precious little girl. (I forgot her name, I'm a horrible person!)
She kept telling me about "the cheese!" I asked her about the cheese.
She had been hiding cheese cubes in her stuff. It was awesome.
She also told me about skritches and about mud.

I was totally scared she pooped herself.
But no, the ground was covered in mud (what happened to lava!?) and if you got mud on you, you had to "skritch" it away.
Pretty awesome game. She always won though. AIDEN! Her name was Aiden. I remember now. She was a darling.

I also have a reputation for destroying glass tanks. Fish tanks. More about that later.

All grown up.

I hurt my back over a week ago. Ten days ago, in fact.

I was doing some garden work at the summer house. Hurt my back with the silly rototiller.

It had been a week (read, like 8 days) of agonizing pain before I went to the doctor and was like, "Oh hai, it hurts, lol".

He poked and prodded me, and it was probably (and definitely awkwardly) the most pleasure I've experienced in like 5 days. He was pressing with his thumbs to see if anything was wrong and it was like a massage.

He informed me that I had a muscle spasm in my back and there's really nothing that can be done except that I can eat muscle "relaxatives"* and take some pain killers.

He warns me that it may make me drowsy. "That's cool," I think. "I can be drugged up for a couple days, have a sweet high. Awesome."

I get my prescription (read: recipe) and go get my medicine. Based on the drowsy warning, I decide to wait until I get home to take them.

Great idea. I get home, get a few things taken care of, think about what to make dinner, and take the medicine.

I'm huddled at my computer when I've decided on spaghetti and meatballs. I notice I feel a little swimmy, and make the effort to find an "easy" recipe.

Succeeded. Wrote down the ingredients I would need.

I feel a bit sleepy at this point, but I want some damned spaghetti and meatballs.

I have a list, which I check several times to make sure everything is there. I ask my husband if he wants anything, I add it to the list. I ask again before I leave and inform him, "if it's not on the list I'm not getting it."

I put on my flip flops, have my grocery bag (Save the environment!) and check like twenty times that I have my wallet, keys, and cell phone.

I'm clutching the list in my hand for fear if I put it in my bag I'll be completely lost.

About 1/4 of the way away from my house the medicine hits me in full force.

This is only a 7 minute walk from my house to the grocery store. I am determined to make it to the store. Although my mind is in a completely different world. All my muscles are relaxed, I'm paranoid that I look like a junkie.

I successfully make it the store after what seems like twenty minutes, I get my groceries, pausing every now and again to stare at my list to make sure I got what I needed. I walk home, much easier than walking to the store. I even managed to get stamps. How I succeeded at that, I have no idea.

I even managed to make tasty spaghetti and meatballs. The medicine made me incredibly spaced out, but able to focus on one thing at a time.

That was yesterday though.

This is today. I decided, since the medicine makes me loopy, to stay home to help my back heal faster. I took the medicine in the morning when my alarm went off, went back to sleep. Woke up at 12:30. Did my internetty things, and prepared food and TV for me since I was going to take more medicine soon.

I enjoy food and cherries and medicine. The muscle "relaxatives" don't quite hit my brain and make me sleepy yet, but my body is relaxed. I decide to take a nap.

I napped for about two hours. Woke up high as a kite.

I start to feel nauseas and hungry. I feel crazy and I don't like it.

I manage to get some laundry started and the dish washer filled and running. I make my coffee and eat some cereal.

It dawns on me: Being high isn't fun anymore.

I've grown up.

If I was 16 this would be fucking awesome, I'm sure. It's not though. I don't like it. I don't like feeling brain dead.

I don't even get this trashed when I drink alcohol. I drink for a buzz, although the past week I was drinking with regular pharmacy pain killers to actually have an effect in relaxing me and making the pain go away. It was only a drink or two, not to worry. Not much alcohol.

Though it was because of that need that I did call the doctor.

I'm still a little high on the "muscle relaxatives" but I'm slowly coming down. My back now feels like it has a normal back pain at the moment. It's not as agonizing as it was. The doctor wants me to be on this medicine for 5-7 days. When the pain is tolerable when I'm sober, I'll stick to taking the medicine at night.

It's just the strangest feeling. Feeling like an adult. I don't know what to say...

I've left myself speechless.

Oh god, that means I have responsibilities!

*Muscle Relaxers, but being in Europe, Europeans who aren't fluent in English come up with awesome words.

Dream on

Last night, while in a deep and content slumber, I had a vivid dream.

I was pregnant. I was also like half the size I am now and like, 3 months pregnant. You could JUST see my baby bump.

I was fucking cute.

I didn't tell anyone though. I wasn't sure WHO to tell because this was an exciting experience for me.

Also, for some reason, Obama was there, but he was a doctor. I had him "x-ray" my belly to prove I was pregnant. It was a girl. He then proceeds to rub my belly in a way that he was going to invoke "abortion" while talking about how a girl so young doesn't need to ruin her life with a bastard child. I told him I was married and wanted to keep my baby girl. He said Oh and stopped and congratulated me.

At this point I had to talk to someone about it. (Also through the night I barely woke up adjusting, because I was sleeping on my tummy and worried about the baby).

I was looking for the perfect candidate when I saw Amie T, a classmate from Middle school and High school. I noticed she wasn't smoking cigarettes and so I *knew* she was pregnant again. I was trying to get her attention, to talk to her. I had her attention but wanted to talk to her privately. But she was being difficult.

I'm not sure if I actually told her or just gave up.

I do know I was super excited to be having a baby girl though.

Ah dream world, a much more fulfilling place than it ought to be.

Mind you, it IS that time of the month...

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

When I was a child I was a compulsive liar.

I lied about anything and everything.

The one lie which sticks out in my mind the most is one that ended up involving the police. I don't know how it ever actually ended but there are parts I remember vividly.

It started because my neighbor, Dillian, and I were playing in my yard near the trashcans. I had this tree in the yard that grew these strong scented orange things. I don't know if they were edible or what. Well a bunch had fallen off and we were picking them from the tree climbing on the white, brick fence and throwing them playfully at each other.

Well Dillian threw one that hit me in the eye. It didn't hurt, just surprised me.

At some point later that day, maybe even the next day, my sister notices my eye. I apparently had a shiner. She shows it to Mom and they ask me what happened. Rather than say it was an accident I came up with this huge elaborate story that these two guys drove up in a station wagon and one of them hit me.

I remember the cops coming and asking for a description. I don't know how I described them but I remember saying that they had animal furs, like tiger fur, in their car, and guns. They definitely had guns.

We were standing in the living room. I was against the wall closest to the front door, I remember the beige pink of the cold floor tiles. I had my hands clasped behind my back, fidgeting, but always keeping them clasped, whether it was in the front or back.

I told the story eagerly.

I don't know if it was an obvious lie, if they actually looked for these fictional characters who punched me in the eye. Maybe it was a trick to get me to tell the truth, to learn my lesson, to see how far I would take the lie.

I have no idea.

I just remember telling that stupid, ludicrous lie.

I did lie about everything.

Although, this whole story could be a false memory for all I know. Maybe it didn't happen. Maybe I imagined it all up...

Miscellaneous

As I glance over to my right to take a look at my precious piggies, Marsu's fur glistening in the morning sunlight... his face set into a grumpy stare... and Napsu chewing his butt...

I like to reflect.

For instance, I have a new favorite band. "Red Light Company"

My favorite thing about going to school was buying College Ruled Paper... and having brand spanking new pens and mechanical pencils...

I always hated high lighters.

I believe I got the kick in the butt I needed to get started on losing weight. Finally. It's been two years too long.

I enjoy the fact that my "wedding dress" is titled "Heart breaker". Which is very appropriate once you look at it in the right light. So many guys out there confessed their love to me when they found out I was moving to Finland, more of those guys stopped talking to me when they discovered of my engagement.

So when I stand at the altar with Lauri by my side and listen closely for my time to say, "Tahdon!" I will have broken the hearts of many men.

The men who still speak to me are either a good friend, have mixed feelings about the situation, or they are in complete denial.

I have quit playing WoW. It seems only the first 20-30 levels are the only entertaining ones. Then it gets terrifying, boring, or just plain obnoxious.

My Wii will not play Finnish games. :( So I have to wait until my return to the US of A to buy any new games.

That's all for now.

The best medicine.

I am currently a fan of The Big Bang Theory. TBBT is lovely.

I often, or always, watch it with Lauri. At first he was skeptical, but now he has been turned onto it.

Which is great. Because he laughs.

I love it when he laughs. I also love it when he smiles.

So it may be that it's not the show I find so addicting, but his laughter next to me.

I did worry that our relationship would get difficult due to a lack of laughter.

It makes me feel like a million dollars.

I love it.

Writings on the wall...

I made a reminder for myself to write a blog about superstitions.

It occurred to me to do such a thing because I am incredibly superstitious. Now, I'm not an extreme when it comes to superstition. I don't mind if a black cat walks across my path. I don't mind if someone opens an umbrella inside (as long as it's not over their head). And I just think it's common sense to not walk under ladders.

I don't think there is seven years of bad luck when you break a mirror, but it sure scares the hell out of me when I drop one. Nothing is broken yet.

But there are little things I abide by. I wont pick up a penny unless it's heads up. Also, with my wedding, I am practically going to inhale something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. And quite frankly, I'm wracking up my brain on figuring out what to borrow.

I have time though.

I just feel that the traditions that have been carried on through the generations should be followed to an extent. Even if it's not truly luck, it can give the sense of accomplishment and success and is less likely to steer into eventual failure.

I have not immersed myself into weddings and such. I've only been to my sister's wedding and a friend's wedding. But I was not hugely into it, like the stereotypes suggest. I was the Maid of Honor for my sister, but I didn't do much for her. So, I don't know what to expect.

Now I have something old: my grandmother's jewelery. Something new: my dress.* Something borrowed: I got nothin'. Something blue: I'm working on it. I'm thinking some sexy undies.

I do plan on doing some research on Finnish wedding traditions as well.

Wedding Superstitions

A few of things made me nervous, I admit.

I read through them all and I am incredibly fascinated...

*It is not a white wedding dress since this isn't a full blown wedding, just a small ceremony to get officially married.

Early Bird Special: Me. Me! Mói! Minä! Yo! Mí amore.

Yesterday was a beautimus day.

Lauri and I discussed plans to no end.

So I was excited. I couldn't sleep even. I fell asleep around 2:30, if I'm lucky. I was awake at 6 AM, as planned. Hopped on my elliptical for ten minutes and have been enjoying my morning.

I've been thinking about our "wedding" non-stop. We're not having a white dress wedding. We're just officially getting married, and it's simply delightful.

I've already bought my dress, a cute darker purple dress. I'll wear it with my lacy Spanx, my shiny black kitten heels... and I'm considering my grandmother's set of black jewelery, it makes a statement. Or the ivory roses. But I do wonder, I have the something old, something new, does the jewelery count as borrowed even though she's passed on?

I did figure maybe I'll just purchase some cute blue panties set.

I'm worried about my hair. I finally manned up and purchased some hair extensions, clip in. I can dye them. I'd like to return to my natural blond color. But light brown looks good on me too. I need slightly darker hair colors because my skin will look green otherwise, or I just look washed out. Too dark and I look blueish green, I look sick actually. I'm worried red would be too bold, and so I think I want blond, so these extensions will last a life time. Ok, not a lifetime, but they should last about a year I think. A long time anyway.

I'm excited. We're going to have our wedding at Maestratti in Hämeenlinna. It will be my dad, my grandmother, my stepmother, Lauri's dad, mom, her boyfriend (of like ten years), Lauri's brother and his wife, and maybe his best friend Nikke. Then we shall go have a celebratory dinner.

Then maybe the next weekend have our Honeymoon. Seems we planned on Tallinn. I believe I convinced him 3 days and two nights. Which is just right, methinks.

I'm so excited.

Life has turned out wonderfully the past few months.

It's all the world a difference when you make the effort.

My Point. Period.

Warning: This entry involves talk about lady business.

This past week has been a very uncomfortable and squishy week for me.

I quit my birth control a month ago. So rather than questionably light periods and being able to time it almost to the hour, I got to have a real period.

Now, I don't know about *your* education, Lauri quit smiling, but I sure as hell was not thoroughly educated about what happens to the girls once a month.

All I learned was what happens when we hit puberty. Girls get big boobs and their lady bits bleed and they experience acne. Now, from the Brady Bunch I learned that with boys their voice changes and from there I also learned their testicles drop and hair starts growing in funny places.

I knew more about boy's puberty than my own!

I actually didn't learn about the hair growing in funny places until I, myself, began to hit puberty. Imagine my horror seeing these dark hairs sprouting where my lady business was supposed to me. WHAT WAS HAPPENING!? IS THIS NORMAL!? I asked the internet, I think. Or just accepted being a monster with some kind of deformity until I saw my mother naked and realized it was ok, she also had it. So it must be hereditary. Pfft.

Thank my lucky stars I knew my lady bits were supposed to bleed. So I was delighted when my period started. Although one of my childhood friends was there with me and was jealous and basically accused me of punching/stabbing myself in the vagina, since she herself had not hit puberty yet. I mean, shit, give me a break! I was having issues with my boobs sprouting. I never went through the training bra phase. I stuck to sports bras because they minimized my chest because I was in the 5th grade with little lady lumps! No one else had them!

Then I went straight to a b-cup when I bought my first bra. I remember my sister being amazing and horrified, maybe, when my mom suggested the same cup size as my older sister. Who already knew the ropes about puberty, buying fancy underwear, and probably knew about the ever so wrongful sex.

So at that point I have the puberty thing understood. Now the mysterious monthly cycle.

What did I know about it? Just that I was supposed to bleed once a month and wear a lady diaper, I mean, a pad, because tampons scared me. TSS was a horrifying thought. But eventually my gynecologist convinced me they were for the best, and now I hate pads.

Anyway, so in school it was never explained to us ladies that we would experience things like cramps, aches in the breasts, being bloated, skin breaking out before the period due to a hormonal change, headaches, fatigue, feeling like someone punched you in the cooter, the assumed craving for chocolate triggered by your period, only to find out that it's only a mental thing. Chocolate and greasy fried foods make me happy and by golly when my period is as bad as it was this week, I want happy foods. Eventually we girls learned about these period problems from watching TV when at home sick and seeing a commercial for Midol. Some skinny chick going to her yoga class and her friends being like, OMG YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD HOW DID YOU MAKE IT TO YOGA!? SHOULDN'T YOU BE LYING IN YOUR DEATH BED!? And she's all, LOL, no, I took Midol *conveniently holds up box for camera and friends to see* OOOOH, OK. Then she wants a brownie. WTF.

I've only been dwelling on this because the speaker last night had informed us that in some cultures the woman having her period gets to be in her room, by herself, for a whole week, with her husband bringing her delicious food 3 times a day, leaving her alone. It's the time that's all about her. She lazes around thinking about herself, making herself feel amazing.

Which is unfair because if I told my teacher that I missed school this week for my period, she'd be like, So? You weren't on your deathbed, I'm sure you could have made. Bah, usually I could.

But not this week. Every angle of having my period sucker punched me. I was rather miserable until evening. But that usually entailed because I was in bed until the hours between 1 and 4. Then I crawled out of bed, ate whatever I could stomach, and snuggled the couch and watched CSI, and Bones. Lauri would come home by the time I finally took a shower and I'm feeling well enough to wander and chatter to him, although I'm uncomfortable, I don't want to bring him down with the wrath of my bloody vagina.

Am I missing anything? I think I got it all down...

Women's Circle

First and foremost, someone hacked my last account so this is a new blog.

Starting fresh and it's about damn time!

I have finally crawled back into my own skin. No longer do I feel naked with only a mask.

I am a member of the American Women's Club, here in Helsinki Finland.

We have a monthly meeting with a guest speaker.

Now due to unforeseen circumstances... I'm making this up. I have been unable to attend a few of the meetings. (School, depression, I dunno. Making excuses.)

Well this evening I finally saddled up, went out the door and crossed treacherous patches of ice...

I made it to the meeting with this fabulous woman from Wisconsin who discussed "Women's Circle", a discussion of how women ought to treat each other versus how we actually do treat each other.

It got me to thinking about dozens of things.

Competition was a big topic. It occurred to me that it's true.

Things of competition popped into my head: So what if I'm overweight, at least I'm overweight in all the right places, unlike some people* I know. / I am a way better hair dresser. At least I'm brave. At least I know what I'm doing. / So what if she's skinny, at least my husband is handsome. ETC. Yes, I AM guilty of these sorts of things. There are many more but I will feel guilty for opening up old cans of back stabbalicious spam. Things I still feel competitive about prance through my brain but I at least keep it to myself and understand that it's wrong to act upon those impulses.

I am a very competitive woman, and I know it.

I gossip, I know it, but even before this meeting I caught onto my problem and now I shut my mouth when I realize I'm gabbing too much.

It gets difficult for me though because I have a cohort who does NOTHING but gossip about her "friends" and their husbands. Albeit she tells the same damned stories over and over and makes me want to hit myself with a bus to get her to stop...

She IS the one who opened my eyes to a problem I had, although she doesn't realize it. I did point out that she shouldn't talk about her friends like that and she laughed and said she knew and that other people tell her the same things but then she continues.

It could be for many reasons she does this. I do wonder if it's a way to block me out because unless I'm talking bad about my life, complaining about my significant other, she doesn't care. If I'm in a good mood and happy with how everything is going, she listens for a minute and then goes on about her and her friends and their husbands and yadda yadda. Tries to one up me I reckon.

I realized that was bad behavior and not behavior I wanted to partake in, although I fail at not partaking because I come home and gossip to my significant other about what he said and she said and how they feel and what they said.

There is SO much animosity with the girls I know and I guess it's based on the job we're going into.

Hair dressing. Isn't that like the home of Gossip?

I guess my idea is that the gossip is between the hair dresser and client. But I don't know yet. We'll see what the real world has to offer me.

Now, as I can recall, I was rather raised by my books than my parents. When my dad could afford the time, I spent every moment trailing him around the house, if I wasn't watching TV (Sabrina the Teenage Witch) or reading books (mostly fantasy). I saw my mother on the weekends a few times. But I spent those days playing with the neighborhood children.

I personally feel that it was my books that raised me, although I was influenced by my siblings and eventually my parents' influence showed up.

I guessed my way around things and figured out what was right and what was wrong.

Being from the South is tricky though, because I am Finnish, and I haven't picked up on the Southern Hospitality thing. I would like to, but I fear it would scare my Finnish friends. So I am a little uncertain.

I wandered off topic.

So the whole theory of the meeting was that women, all women, should treat each other like sisters. Good sisters that is. Ones that don't gossip. They braid their hair and stuff. I am NOT a public speaker so you're getting the toilet paper of the speech.

Had my sister and I not made up and forgotten our differences and tossed the past into the past and opened up to each other, I think I may have scoffed at the whole speech, really.

It takes time and patience I believe to be close to one another as we are.

For someone who used to hate babies, she sure wants to be an auntie real soon. NO BABIES YET!

I am a terrible writer... I stray off topic all. the. time.

I'm just too excited. And easily distracted...

*This most likely does not refer to you, because I'm not THAT bad. Ok, I don't really know people I feel that way towards, except once in a blue moon when she gossips my ear off and I just want her to shut. up.