First Day of Kindergarten

I feel like I'm 5 right now. And it's my first day of Kindergarten. And my mom is driving me to school, only to go back home to do whatever she did while I was at school.

I'm leaving to go back "home" after church this morning. And for some reason I feel like I'm being pulled by the babysitter (or the Kindergarten teacher, to be consistent with the title) from the clutches of my mother's arms. *Bloggin' Vulnerability...aka Blognerability: admitting that I feel 19 years younger and just want my mom...feel free to use this term* And I am kicking and screaming. Another note: if I were the babysitter in this case, I would pull me away and hope that the mother would go off and not dwell on her daughter's crying, which would just make it worse. Mothers need to understand that they can't stay; it only makes things worse. Feel free to make a note; I am a babysitting expert and have seen the worse there is. Hence my quitting babysitting....I get frustrated EXTREMELY easily these days babysitting. I could absolutely write a sequel to Nanny Diaries. Hmmm...a project....

But anyway, I feel like I'm 5 today. Still working on getting a 95% discount on this house from my parents. I would probably finish off my masters through Simmons the next 3 years, then move to Plateau Road and start my own reading center or tutoring service. Make a note.

In the meantime, wah. I want my mom.

Restless

Recently I've been thinking about where I am in life, both physically and spiritually. One of the deepest thoughts on this blog so far, I know.

It started awhile back when I was thinking about doing a 3-month-long bike ride across the country this coming summer. But that was shattered by 2 events, and then one that absolutely sealed the deal: I'd miss the annual vacation with my family to Nags Head, NC for the SECOND time in a row (Phebe would have none of it), and I'd miss the wedding of my favorite engaged couple, Nicole and Ryan. But then I absolutely KNEW it wasn't for me this year when Phebe turned into the oven heating up a mighty fine bun, due to be golden brown in July.

So that was the beginning of me thinking about doing something BIGGER with my life than hanging out in the comfort zone of hoity-toity Hamilton-Wenham. In the last year, I have challenged myself physically through foot races, long bike rides and spinning marathons. And I have wondered if this is me trying to get away from what is comfortable in some way. Not to overanalyze...but again, it's a deep thought.

I want change. I want to do something hard that is challenging, or big, or something. I want to run that marathon, but perhaps run a marathon in a different sense. Challenge myself by something extra I do in addition to my work, or make a big move somewhere else, or something. A man? Ha. Wait, LOL I just realized I correlated a marathon to a man. Yes, in a sense, a marathon it would definitely be.

Along the same lines, today at Barnes and Noble I was thinking about how awesome it would be if I were a writer. A writer of a blog and a writer of a book are 2 very different things. You have to be that much more creative, I think. I have no ideas in my head, just a desire to be in the middle of some really big, fun project. Like writing a book. See where I'm going? No? Oh. Well all of this thinking might have been those cups of coffee talking. Caffeine is very deceiving that way, I think.

Last year I experienced an amazing outlet for my overflowing awe in God and Who He is and what He has done and continues to do daily in my life. I've mentioned that for a really solid time I had been in His Word daily, for a good 45 minutes-1 hour at a time. And it made a HUGE impact on the "cup" that we speak of having that overflows. I was always so aware of God in my life and was so thankful for everything around me. And it bugged me so much that I didn't have a creative way to express that thanks and gratitude. But then I realized that I had a pretty good (I guess I'm biased; I thought they were pretty good) knack for poetry, or creative writing, I wasn't sure what it was. I was able to express myself and glorify God through the words I wrote in the morning. I loved it.

I fell away from that, and from my solid time with God. Suddenly I am not a teacher's assistant in a school that is a 5-minute walk from my home, and am so much more responsible for what goes on during the day with my students. Excuses excuses I know.

I guess I'm wondering if a huge change would get me back to that place where I was. What am I thinking, what I need is to send some hollas up to the Father.

Well I certainly have gone off in all directions here.

Pimp My House

My house has recently been pimped. The more I say pimped the more ridiculous it sounds. Still funny. I guess when I say "recently" I mean over the span of a year or so.

My parents have been empty-nesters ever since college began for me in 2002. My sister is 10 minutes down the road, my brother is 10 hours plus 5 more hours down the road. Either way, they are technically empty nesters. I remember when I first came back from Gordon for Thanksgiving break or something like that, and I saw that my my parents had purchased and hung really ugly curtains with lighthouses on them up in my bathroom. I found it humorous. They were definitely typical empty-nest (aka no teenager to veto the decision of gross decorations) curtains.

Since then, I must say that they have made many more changes, but definitely for the better. These changes have happened more recently. In the last year they have gotten a new (huge) kitchen sink, they have replaced our old countertops with really really impressive (who knew they had such style?) blue marble countertops, and they have gone all flat-screen on me. Wait, before I go on, I have to applaud Buck and Arabella for such a BEAST of a television. Last night watching Get Smart I could have sworn Steve Carrell was in the living room with the Hubbard clan. *Steve if you are reading this, you are ALWAYS welcome. This March Madness will be the first one with this television and boy oh boy. I mean, there have been numerous madnesses on this television but none of the basketballin' type. My father has painted parts of the kitchen and is now as we speak taking all our cupboards off so that painters will be able to come in and paint the cupboards white as well. He is planning on doing the floors sometime soon, too.

I guess I have a love-hate relationship with it all. I love it, because it's awesome, and I hate it, because I know that he's doing this so that people will be more apt to buy it. They have been thinking for a long time now about selling this house. Actually, orginally, they threatened to sell it by the time I graduated college but when that didn't happen they told me they would eventually do it. So now I think I can buy some more time in this 59 Plateau Road GEM. I mean, is it too much to ask to have my children and my grandchildren grow up in this house? White kitchen, blue marble countertops, nasty lighthouse curtains and all? In that case, maybe they'll sell it to me with a 95% discount for being their most awesome youngest daughter. March Madness parties will forevermore be located right in my living room. And chips, buffalo chicken dip, and ice cream will be available in the white kitchen, on the blue marble countertops. But beware, avert your eyes from the curtains upstairs. They're NOT pimp my house material.

Makin' Up For Lost Time...

I just wrote a blog 20 minutes ago. And I want so much to say I have a life and am not still sitting at my computer. But I am. So I'm making up for lost time and writing another blog. You're welcome, Meggo, and Barb, 2 people who have encouraged more blogging either directly or indirectly:) I might also be avoiding my christian novel I'm reading right now. I think christian novels are annoying and slow at times, and this opinion is being confirmed at this moment via Lori Wick.

I would like to take this time to talk about the hilariousness and usual ironicality (well it SHOULD be a word) of first impressions. Two recent activities with friends I will blog about at this time.

First, a chocolate party. With my friend Abby. She called me the morning before we got together one night and said, "can we have a chocolate party tonight?" Right, I didn't understand what that entailed either. I asked her, and she responded by saying that all it is is a get-together when we eat chocolate and tell stories that involve chocolate. So indeed it was. She brought over a chocolate bar and a pint of really chocolate ice cream. We ate dinner, then while we ate the chocolate we took turns telling our chocolate stories. It's amazing how initially you feel you have nothing to contribute until you hear someone else. After she told her story I told the story of when I stole a Peppermint Patty from the drug store and hid it in my jacket sleeve. My mom asked me where I got it and I took out that shovel and with all my might dug deeper and deeper and deeper. I ended up telling her that I had gotten it from a friend from school at lunch time. She, like a master mother, called that friend's mother and asked if she did indeed have Peppermint Patties in her bag lunch that day. That phone call was followed by a very humiliating return to City Drug, and a spanking. Character-builders, I tell you. Every one of 'em.

The first impression relevant to this story? My friend Abby. Totally intimidated me initially. And for awhile afterward. Today? LOVE that girl.

Second story: a 3.5 hour car journey to Jeffersonville, VT. Yesterday. With good friend Nicole. First impression of her? Once again, totally intimidated of her for a really long time. And then we were friends. Today? LOVE that girl.

So I brought her to her fiance's house in VT and it worked out perfectly because we could leave at the same time. This is the second time I have driven her to Vermont and every time we have such good talks the whole time! I'm not saying that they're really really deep, all of it, and I come out of it a better person. I mean, I do, but we talked about things like the wedding planning, if I liked ham or turkey better, her loving coaching soccer, and we also played the word association game when one person says a word and I say a word that first comes to mind and it keeps going back and forth. We ended playing for at LEAST 1o minutes until we had to stop because I couldn't see the road because my eyes were shutting from laughing. Grass, green, purple:) To make the day even better I stayed for dinner at Ryan's house and we had a cute little game night. Did you know they have Family Feud game on DVD? Nicole and I crushed Ryan and his dad. Until we played a second time.

First impressions might continue in the future but my father just said he "has a job for me." Up and at 'em.

Thankful

I tutor a PRECIOUS 6th grade girl at Landmark and she's great; I think we have more fun together than we are supposed to have. But that's one beautiful thing about 1-on-1. Once I feel out the work ethic and ability to joke but be serious at the snap of my fingers, I know that I can be fun and stupid with her and still get work done. Her biggest weakness is comprehension of abstract material so we obviously spend a lot of time working with that.

So anyway, we have been reading excerpts from Anne Frank's diary and my goal is to get her to identify feelings that Anne might have had during her hiding. Because it's a weakness of hers, it takes a boat-load of teacher cues to get her to think outside the concrete answers and instead dig deeper into the character's feelings and thoughts. Well during one tutorial I was trying to get her to understand things we take for granted; things that Anne realized that she no longer had access to. Fresh air, community with friends, good food, education, etc.

And as she continued to give me a blank stare and respond, "yeah" after everything I said (because her thing is pretending she understands and knows what I'm saying when really she would never come up with this on her own...love this girl but extremely frustrating to no end), I continued to teacher cue. And who knew this would kind of be like (or no, just exactly be...) God speaking to me, and reminding me how awesome I have it and how much He has provided for me. I absolutely take every breath for granted. Think of it, though, I don't think it's possible to be thankful for every single breath. That's a lot of thankfulness. I take my time with friends for granted. Now that I'm realizing people I love and care for might be moving on with life and moving away, I am kicking myself for not realizing earlier how amazing it has been that I have such a great circle of friends around me.

So wow. Very taxing to repeat myself over and over to this girl but again, this is what I need. While I'm trying to get something out of her, I ironically need to have something engrained into me like nothing else.

100% cheesy to talk about things I'm thankful for on Thanksgiving, but cheesy is usually great. So on that note, Happy Thanksgiving. I am thankful for you, friends:)

Tid-Bits On My Mind....

There are some things on my mind today.

1. Firstly, the main tid-bit, which means it's not a tid-bit at all, but a huge-bit, is money. Unfortunately, money has NOT turned into hugs and high fives since I last blogged. Money still sucks. I guess the world just wasn't inspired enough from my last entry. Thanks to those who WERE:) I overdrew again. Money feels mutually about me. That grammar really is gross but it's Saturday and this is a blog, not a grad class paper.

2. Secondly, I have got to clean out my math binder and I'm-a-mature-teacher bag. I struggled yesterday with keeping things in the containers they belonged in. I like to put creamer in my coffee because black coffee tastes how that chalkboard sound tastes. So I put creamer into my to-go mug and at Landmark I fill it up with coffee. So far I've been a champ at transporting the creamer without spilling it. Yesterday, the french vanilla creamer laughed in my face as it spilled all in my mature bag. And in my math binder, and into my cell phone, and other miscellaneous important-teacher papers. Sometimes my pretending to be mature is uncovered. I'd say it was yesterday when teachers walked into the faculty lounge, only to find all my teacher stuff spread out and smelling like a french vanilla spill.  So anyway, I'm a little nervous about how that french vanilla smell might turn into old nasty dairy product smell. I have got to clean out my math binder. But don't worry, the spilling wasn't done. My lip gloss forgot to get its cap twisted back on (idiot lip gloss; all its fault) and squirted its contents into my new puffy jacket's fleece pocket. At the end of the day though, those are 2 very welcome smells, if I had a choice of a bunch. French vanilla and pink tint mint. Mmmmm.

3. Thirdly, my mom is the best. I had a hard time this morning and she is so gracious and wonderful, what with her southern-bellness, patience, and wonderfulness. I love my mom and need to stop taking her for granted. I love Arabella.

4. Fourthly, my sister is pregnant. Sometimes I forget this. And I get giddy when I remember. And then I get so proud of Betty and Francine....also, I have been thinking about her request for me to be in the delivery room with her. How freaking honored was I. But then, I've fainted too many times in surgery/hospital-type situations. Am I strong enough for this? Absolutely not. Therefore, this is why I welcome any and every gross story or scene from anyone. This is my thought: similar to how a vaccination keeps you from getting the flu or whatever, I bet I can gain immunization to fainting. I have a solid 7 months at LEAST to get my act together and become stronger in that way. So the more gory stories and surgeries I can see, the better fit I will be to be the supportive sister in the delivery room. Please "try me" in the comment section. Thanks. 

5. Fifthly, try to say fifthly five times fast.

6. Sixthly, I love alone-time. I wouldn't call myself an introvert, but I'm definitely not an extravert. Middlevert? Onthefencevert? Betweenvert?

7. Seventhly, it's a little redundant to write the number and then spell it out with -ly at the end. 

8. How the heck am I supposed to pay for my warm winter beverages when I go to Barnes and Noble or Starbucks when I suddenly find myself very much so overdrawn?

9. Thank goodness for the 18ish dollars on my Dunkin' Donuts card. I'll have to ration this out responsibly. 

10. How do people live without the hope that Jesus Christ gives us? Crap happens. The economy goes cah-poot. Living situations are suddenly an issue. People fight. People die. Cars break down. People faint. Then throw up. The president you voted for doesn't win. You don't even get politics and can't find the desire to care. Mice named Margaret live in your walls. Every wedding under the sun happens but yours. French vanilla creamer spills in your teacher bag. Loneliness. Bad moods. Overdrawn account...more than once...115 dollars in bank fees. 

Jesus gives us hope! He shows me that I can learn from these things and gain character from these things. There is a reason this all happens. But there is also reason for good things. Thanksgiving break, pregnant sisters (!), dinners out with friends, warm beverages, great co-workers and work experience, smiles, laughter, music, fuzzy croc slippers, Bible study, perfect roommate/best friend:), amazing southern God-fearing mothers, amazing wise cute fathers, happy thankful tears.

These are just some of the tid-bits on my mind today.

My Utopia Does NOT Include Money.

When I was in high school I had to write this big deal paper explaining what my utopia would include...it had to be 20 pages long which, of course, was a huge deal in high school when we complained about 5-page papers being long.  As I experience being relatively right out of college and having chosen teaching (at a private school) as a vocation, I realize that I was a dumb dumb girl for not mentioning anywhere in those 20 pages that money should not be part of it. Simply put, money really really sucks. I hate it.

This afternoon I realized with great chagrin (I know, I know, wicked smaht...hopefully I used it right) that I am overdrawn. For probably the 3rd time at least since having my checking account. With my mom being a banker and my dad being obsessed with Quicken and keeping track of budgets and things of that genre in general, I think it's crazy that I've let this happen once again. I really hate keeping a budget, doing Quicken every month (which, since my old computer died on me, I've totally stopped doing), and filling out my checking account register. Oh wait, the last one I haven't been doing, hence the whole overdrawn-ness of my account. 

Money is stupid. It causes so much crap, whether one has none, or has more than enough.  I hate money.

Let's see if I've learned my lesson this time.  I should probably start getting better with money by NOT buying Starbucks drinks. But they're so PERFECT during this season! Boo.

So how would I change the 20-page paper I wrote in high school? Well I'd add a little ditty about the stupidity of money, and instead of exchanging money for goods and services...and coffee drinks, you would have to give hugs. Or high fives. Or both.  Just imagine...

Me: Hi, could I please have a grande peppermint mocha twist with non-fat milk?

Barista: Sure, would you like whipped cream with that?

Me: What the heck, whipped cream is one of those awesome things life.

Barista: Sure! That will be 4 hugs and 2 high fives.

(...And the love is spread here)

See where I'm going with this? We'd be killing 2 birds with one stone. We'd get rid of money and all the hatred slash overdrawn-ness it causes, and there would be more love and peace between all of us. And of course, instead of having killed those 2 birds, we'd sing a tune back to them and feed them some bird seed and in that way, love.

"Betty and Francine Have Done It..."

It all started when Phebe told me how she scolds her ovaries sometimes because she cannot seem to get pregnant. Too much information? Too bad. And then we decided to name them. Because we are funny sisters. And there you have it, Phebe's ovaries are named Betty and Francine. And the quote in the title is the first thing Phebe said when I called her back this afternoon because she wanted to know "what my plans were over Thanksgiving break."

MY SISTER IS PREGNANT!!!!!!!

Phebe swore to me that when she found out she would call ME first. And she has made me proud, because she called me once, I was at the gym, then called again, I was still at the gym, and then I called her back because for some reason she REALLY wanted to know what my plans were. She has not told her co-workers or other friends. Well, actually, she DID tell her husband. But I think that I will probably let that slide.

So we talked about those things you talk about when you first hear about a baby on the way. When he/she is due, how she feels, blah, blah, blah. And it was all VERY exciting. We talked about how certain parts of the baby were growing. Wrists included. There are precious little wrists growing! I cannot WAIT until I meet this ultimate precious pie and see the wrists.

I will be spoiling this preciousness. 

Good ol' Betty and Francine:)

She also said she wanted me to be in the delivery room. In my heart I say YES! YES! YES! But in my head I said NO. NO. NO.  My head knows that I can't handle those environments. I would faint within, eh, I'd give it 2 minutes of being in there. WAY too many fainting stories. Two times because I was watching surgery. Therefore, I have made an executive decision to stay away from delivery rooms. Until I have a precious pie of my own.

So anyway, YAY:)

Stuck In a (Mighty Fine Looking) 24-Year-Old's Body

So it's 10pm on Saturday night (pay no attention to what time the blog claims I write this; it's totally off), and I am sitting in bed. Listening to Norah Jones, about to start a Lori Wick novel. I left my friends and the television to come here. Because I am tired. And I wanted to wind down. Because I am getting up at 6:30am tomorrow, SUNDAY, so I can do projection--a 6-hour commitment--at church. Take all these as excuses if you want, but if you'd rather, and I'd like you to rather, just accept them as justifications as to why I say no to Saturday nights and the way they "should" be spent by someone who is 24 years old. 

In high school I was known by others, my friends and my non-friends, as someone who didn't drink, didn't smoke, blah blah blah. And because of that, I think, I was never invited to parties. But really, it could have been that I was totally uncool and I lived a lie throughout high school that I was AWESOME. Just kidding. Maybe. And for the record, I was TOTALLY fine with NOT being invited. So instead, my Friday and Saturday nights were spent watching movies with my parents or babysitting. I didn't have much of a social life on those nights. So from those days forward, I have been 100% intimidated of big parties and bars/clubs...."clubbing" sounds like the worst thing to me. Actually, the closest thing I've done to "bar-hopping" is "park-hopping", when I take my babysitting kids from park to park, drunk with apple juice, goldfish, and the joy of life as a toddler and babysitter.

Well I think those high school weekend nights have carried through to my college and post-college years thus far. I love my friends and when we get together, we don't do that club scene or really even drink, for that matter. Unless, of course, one decides to honor the veranda by buying a bottle of wine. But anyway, I was so used to going to bed relatively early. I don't get how people go out to start their weekend night at 10. I just don't get it. I am well into my REM sleep by then. Maybe that's an overexaggeration, but you understand what I'm saying. And forget starting a movie late (in Jaq terms, that's like 8) and expecting me to stay up. There's no way. Scattegories or a crazy game of Apples to Apples, maybe, but case in point. My wild and crazy nights usually would typically involve board games and movies. 

And then there's the whole reading thing. Recently I've realized that I don't love watching movies as much. If I'm watching a movie, I usually like to do something while I'm watching. Like a craft, or homework, or something other than just sitting/lying there. I have to be doing something. I think this is definitely a good thing, my sudden desire to read, but recently I've had every intention to sit down and read but then the desire to read gets beat up by the desire to write a blog. Like, let's see if I can think of a good example, oh yeah. Right now.  My Lori Wick novel is waiting for me. And Norah Jones is singing. I should pay more attention to poor Lori and Norah. 

Don't judge me for being an old lady stuck in a mighty-fine looking 24-year-old's body.

LOL.

Spinning:)

So I thought it would be appropriate to blog about spinning this afternoon because, well, I'm gonna go spin in an hour. I'm pretty excited; I haven't done it since, oh, April, maybe? It's definitely a winter "sport" for me. 

Spinning is great. My father was the one who got me into spinning. I remember the first time I went to a spinning class with him. First of all it was early in the morning so I wasn't thrilled. But then, when I had been in class for about 15 minutes, and wanted to kill this perfectly nice lady in charge, I knew spinning wasn't for me. I hated it. It was hard. I wanted to stop. Get off. But everyone else kept going and everyone else was much older than me (like gray hair, WHY is he in spandex, older...not that young men should be hanging out in spandex either, but whatever). When I finished that dreaded hour of sweat-producing, constant pedaling, I felt like I had conquered the world. A very similar feeling to how I felt after my sister pushed me to jog for 3.5 miles in high school for the first time. Endorphins, I tell you, they are the BEST! Add those to my lame list of things that don't get old. 

Last year I did a "spin-a-thon" in Vermont with my father and sister and I loved it and I loved training for it. I secretly kind of missed it over the summer when all it did was make sense to workout outside, so I'm pretty excited to start back up, starting tonight. YAY. I totally by accident recruited people to spin with me. Some liked it, some hated it. I think those that hate it need to give it a chance...I'm just saying that I did, what after hating my life after 15 minutes....

So it's time to say goodbye to running and hello to spinning.

Me: "Bye running. I will miss you. I will probably not be seeing your friend, the treadmill. Because he is NOT my friend. He is boring. See you in, eh, April? Love ya."

Me: "Hey spinning! I've missed you!"

Anyway....me making up dialogue between me and forms of exercise=time to end the blog.

LOL.

Leave a comment. Say what you will about me trying too hard. Just say it as you comment.

Things That Never Get Old

-Friday afternoons....approximately 3pm.

-Certain sayings, like, 

-watch your mouth

-tough crowd, tough crowd (when you say something that is LOL-worthy but no one laughs)

Okay I have a confession to make. I didn't go into this being like, I'm going to write about (blank). Rather, I have recently realized how amazing it is that Friday afternoon really really just never gets old. It's always filled with lots of potential. So rather than simply write "Friday afternoons never get old" in my blog and call it a day, I thought I'd make it interesting by giving it a title and coming up with other things that never get old. But 2 seconds after I started I realized there's only a few things in life that never get old. Well maybe more but my brain is tired. This blog is lame.

How 'bout that Biggest Loser last night!?!? SO GOOD. Vicki=evil. So does Heba but not as much. I do NOT heart Vicki.

I Heart My Weekly Television Shows.

Wow. Secretly, I'm NOT a fan of Panera Bread however I will say that I am sitting here again, in Panera Bread, the same place where I started my blog. It's like an anniversary or something. Hm let's see, like a one-month anniversary...I don't know. Anyway, wish me and my blog happy anniversary if you see me.

So I sat here, being pressured to write a blog (both by friends asking me if I'm okay because I haven't been blogging, and also by a little guy on my shoulder being like, BLOG!....whether this is the "angel" guy or the "devil" guy you see on TV and stuff, I'm not sure). And after sitting here college-kid-beginning-a-paper style (get it....staring at a blank computer screen...tough crowd tough crowd), I thought and thought and realized, OBVIOUSLY I should write about television shows. Know why that came to mind? Because I could have my dreaded math class for an extended period, like 1.5 hours, 2 hours, what the heck, 8 hours, and still would have a good day knowing my show is coming on.

Ladies and gentlemen. Biggest Loser will be coming back on after being off for a whole 2 weeks. I don't know what happened, something like the election or something.  Biggest Loser is indeed BIG. And people who don't watch it are indeed LOSERs. Hence the name. That's my take on it, anyway. Oh yeah also they lose lots of weight. And it's big cuz' every show is a whopping TWO HOURS. That brings me to my next tangent. If I were in charge of naming the show it would be Whopping Loser. And hope people's feelings aren't hurt. Oh nevermind, the contestants get weighed for all to see in their sports bras and spandex. Their feelings were out the door the second they signed up for Whopping Loser. I mean, I could go on about this show but I won't because some people I know complain about blogs being too long, therefore un-readable. I dare readers to comment and tell me how they feel about that comment.

So that's my reality show love.

What else are my loves? A lil' this (game show) and a lil' that (sitcom).

Game show obviously = Family Feud. Whether hosted by the old school guy or hosted by the dude who was in Seinfeld as Elaine's boss, Family Feud does not cause a feud in my heart. Isn't it funny, though, how the old school guy kissed every girl and it wasn't weird at all, and now the other guy takes down the notch of physical touch by hugging every girl close to him and it's SO WEIRD and awkward? Just me? Oh.

Well, my sister and I have already designated the family members that will be on the show. And we haven't practiced this, but we would be really good at being totally cheesy annoying and game show-y. Before I transition to my last favorite show, let it be known,

I HEART FAST MONEY.

Lastly, I love to join Michael, Dwight, Pam, Jim, Kelly, Phyllis, and the rest of the Dunder-Mifflin gang Thursday nights. I know that I'm a hypocrite for this fact but I will share it with all. I am an LOL hypocrite. I live for that saying on my blog, yet not much on TV makes me LOL. The Office, on the other hand, is 100% LOL worthy. This show makes me want to do geeky fan things like join a fan club, actually why aim low, START an awesome fan club, buy a t-shirt that says Dunder-Mifflin, visit Scranton PA just so I can say I've been there, and buy items with The Office on it, whether relevant to life or not. I mean, do I REALLY need a stress ball that is Dwight's head? Answer: absolutely.

No reality TV show, game show, or sitcom, will ever compare to the gloriousness in the form of my shows. Maybe you should comment and try and get me to like other shows?

With all this said, I need to leave my anniversary sight and take a shower and eat dinner so I'm ready for The Whopping Loser. SO. EXCITED.

P.S. Does anyone notice that I want (live for) comments on my blog. Am I trying too hard?

A Shout Out to My Home...(slice?)

So I get to go home tomorrow afternoon for the weekend. Main reason being running in a half-marathon with PHEBE but there are supporting details to this main event. For example...

-I will be spending some time at Barnes and Noble reading with Arabella. This is one of her (and usually mine, if I'm in the mood and I'm in the mood more than the average joe) favorite things to do and obviously a warm beverage--or a frappachino; I have a hard time branching out from the icy gloriousness that never lets down--is involved.

-Going to a UVM men's basketball exhibit game with Buck. In high school, all 4 years, he and I bonded over getting season tickets to the women's games. I'm over that whole scene now, but there's nothing wrong with walking down...or walking up the bleachers to?...memory lane.

-Doing a number of things with Pheeeeebs. I mean, really, she deserves a whole blog entry of her own, which I'm sure she'll get eventually. Not to say that my parents don't deserve this attention and bloggin' love as well, but it's just that, well, Phebe is Phebe. AKA LOVE HER. So she will get a paragraph and then indents within that paragraph. Like so....

-First I will be visiting her at some craft show she participates in every year maybe I think. Obviously I don't truly know her crafty artsy whereabouts at all times. But that's what happens when you're 2 different people now, isn't it?

-I am hoping to visit Plato's Closet with her. It is a store where you bring in your used clothes (from hoity toity places with hoity toity brands like J. Crew, Banana Republic, blah blah, blah) and get other hoity toity used clothes for little money. Everyone's doing it. So I realized I'm somebody, I should probably give it a try. We'll see how it goes. If you see me and my level of hoity toity has risen since you last saw me, you'll know that it is Plato's Closet's fault.

-Vegging. Now, you may be wondering, "what's vegging?" Okay well usually it definitely involves 2 extremely key ingredients, 3 if it's even a little bit cool out. If you kinda know me, you can probably guess one, and that's television. Well, more likely movies. If you're going along with reasoning that we'll be sitting in our living room and that I have one, you'll probably say a crackling mad fire in the fireplace. And you'll probably say it just like that too. Well guess what, you're right. And the last one, if you really know me, you got it already. OBVIOUSLY it involves ice cream. Phebe and I (and my brother and mother, for that matter) don't thinking of vegging as an ice cream-less activity.  But this brings me to the predicament in my head that began, oh, at the beginning of this week. And it went (and is still going) as follows...."How the heck are we supposed to veg Hubbard-style when Phebe and I have a half-marathon to run the next morning at 8:15? Still figuring that one out. If anyone has any suggestions, PLEASE help a sister (actually, you'll be helping both of us....so sisters) out. 

I think that is all. A lot of relaxing and family and running. It'll be a beautiful thing at 59 Plateau Road pretty soon.

Today I Am Glad That I...

...wore a scarf to school. I am becoming more and more fond of them every day.

...finished off my run by walking, rather than turning around and walking back. You see, sometimes I should realize it's stupid to run and I should just take a chill pill. Today was one of those days, I realized, 10 minutes into it. So I started walking. Debated turning around and not really exercising anymore, or continuing on by walking-it-out style the rest of the way. I dug deep and walked. For 5 miles. It's no run, but I think my knees love me for the break. (You're welcome, knees.)

...left work at 1:15 today....simply because I could. Of course I did spend 3.5 hours in Starbucks working on school stuff. So I pretended to leave work early. Oh that brings me to my next gladness event of the day: getting a warm beverage. One of the greatest things about winter. If you're one of my favorites in life it's because you are an avid reader of my blog and you know that I'm not a fan of winter. Therefore warm beverages are clutch and save my winter days.

...talked to Meggo for a whopping 15 minutes after not seeing her for like 5 days. Way too long.

...read the Bible this morning. There's nothing like it. Actually there is....it's Him.

...bombarded myself with a bag full of vegetables during snacktime at work so I wouldn't eat the crap that they give us daily. It's something I try to keep up but sometimes the chocolate swirl bread just calls my name. And sometimes I answer, despite the grease stains it leaves on the napkins. MMmmmm grease stains=DELICIOUS

And the number one thing I'm glad I did today....

....was gave the mouse that I am scared of that crawls around here a name: Margaret. It's amazing how giving a nasty rodent a loving name can change everything. 

"Margaret? Maaarrrrrgareeeeet!!! How are you dooooooinggggg!?"

Whoa. Weird blog ending. That's my cue to go to bed. Night.

10 Things That Made ME Happy Today....

First off, I'd like to dedicate this blog to Jill, for inspiring me to do this blog in the form of a "happy things of the day" list. And also for making me feel like there's one more person out there who enjoys reading my blog:)  ...Sometimes you don't really know who reads it...let alone ENJOYS reading it...

1. Election day=free small coffee at Starbucks...iced or non. I went iced.

2. Election day=free cone day at Ben and Jerry's. I was tempted to go in for another, double-fist style. But then I realized that I earned it for doing my civil duty, and I should probably stop while I'm ahead...that is, I had acted civil-y for doing my duty, why ruin it by going against the Ben and Jerry's system?

3. Getting out of work today at 1:15....2 free blocks at the end of my day? IIIiiiii'lllll take it!

4. Five minutes after my 3rd period began, another teacher put his head in and asked to take my tudee for the remainder (40 minutes) of the block. Surprise prep period for me? Again, IIIiiiiii'llll take it!

5. Talking to my brother tonight for a half-hour...should happen more often (Happy birthday Buck! ....I don't even think you read this....)

6. Seeing the young third-graded cherub boy I worked with last year....rather than, "Hi Ms. Hubbard!" or "How are you?" I get, "FINALLY, I SEE YOU!" So much more awesome than the normal, classic greeting. Then he says next, "Cursive is so easy! I already know how to make z's!" Oh, my little buddy.

7. Another one of my young cherub friends I mentioned awhile back said "tartar sauce" at LEAST 4 times today and "crud" a couple of times. I'm trying to get him to cut back on the "crud"'s...and secretly have a goal to get a LOT of "tartar sauce!"('s) out of him daily.

8. I've said it before, whole wheat couscous really does have a special place in my heart. It should be called whole wheat goodgood or whole wheat deliciousnessdeliciousness.

9. Thinking about going home this weekend and being SO EXCITED!!! I love my family! I love my home! I love my fireplace! I love Plateau Road and the 100% comfort I feel when I am there has always been taken for granted.                 I. Love. Home.

10. I know this is a list of happy things, but I can't help it. I just saw a mouse scamper across our living room and into the kitchen. And then I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Let's see...how can I make it a good thing...it didn't scamper over my feet? I didn't find it in my bed? 

CRUD!!

No but seriously, all good things come from above:) 

Oh yeah, and LOL.

"I Should Blog About That"

I officially said "I should blog about that" for the first time about something that happened...before someone else could beat me to it. Just thought you'd like to know. So anyway, this blog is about that event. So hold onto your hats everyone.

Amy and I went grocery shopping at Market Basket yesterday afternoon. Just a normal, average joe trip to the grocery store, you ask? That's what you want to blog about? Just wait. It turned into so much more. First of all, to make it seem more exciting than a dreaded opportunity to go up and down aisles in a really big building and spend too much money (inevitably), we got some iced coffee. It really makes it that much more exciting. I recommend trying it sometime.

Second of all, we almost got kidnapped. Or robbed. Or something bad in general almost happened to the both of us.  You see, we had just finished racing across the parking lot with our carts full of life-sustaining goodies (a more exciting name for groceries, even though "goodies" sounds more like ice cream and cookies than broccoli and whole wheat bread) and showing our kid-at-heart sides, when the blog-worthy event occurred. 

We had just started putting our bags in the car when a guy pulls up in a white van. I saw him first so I asked him if I could help him. My first impression was that he needed directions to somewhere.  So in my head, like I usually do when I think I'm about to be asked directions, I put together a map of the North Shore in my mind. Weird? Know what I'm talking about? Or not? Well, take it or leave it. So anyway, he told us he couldn't help but notice that the front of Amy's car looked like crap and that he could take a look at it if we wanted.

So right away both Amy and I thought (we obviously debriefed after this whole thing occurred) "wow, all those forwards we've gotten about people doing sketchy things in order to kill us is happening". Well he parked, got out of the car and started looking at the bumper. He told us that to get it looking good again it would only be $250, when Amy's guy had originally said it would be $1,000. Paint and everything, he could do it for $250. Mind you, he didn't have a business card or anything. He said he was a "family man" and piggy-backed this comment by saying his son was in his car with him (as thought that would make the situation seem much less sketchy). Well I went to put my cart away while he continued to talk Amy's ear off, which I now see wasn't very nice of me; I should've stayed with Amy but it was daylight so I wasn't too concerned. I eyed his "son" in the passenger side of the white van and maybe I was biased because I had already perceived this situation as sketchy sketchy SKETCHY, but he seemed like bad news. He was in his late-teens or early-20s and just seemed scary. Who knows, maybe he was a nice gentleman that hadn't had much sleep and that's why his lids were half-closed and he was lying back. But on the other hand, maybe he was high and hiding from us.

So I walked back and by this time, every second that went by made me less and less comfortable. And this, mind you, was BEFORE the man offered, as though this would make the decision easier to make, to FOLLOW US TO OUR HOME and he would take care of it there. 

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?!?!?!?!?

Red warning flag #6,793. 

So Amy told him she'd talk to her dad and then call him if she was interested. But really what she was saying was, you're a freak and we need to drive far far far away from you. You and your "family". So thankfully he got into his van, his son never got out of his van, and we drove away. And I looked out behind us for the next 10 minutes to make sure we weren't being followed. All the while exchanging "I can't believe that just happened's" and "I should blog about that's".  

And here we are, alive and well to talk about it. 

"Family man, shmamily shman".