Maybe I'm Over Exaggerating...

Here's a term that I just now decided to be surprised that I don't hear it more ridiculed for being stupid:

"over exaggerate"

Doesn't that just mean "to exaggerate?"

What's the point of the "over?"

In full disclosure, I should admit that this question came to mind because while I was getting ready for bed tonight, I thought about something that happened this evening, and I started exaggerating something, and when I mentally reacted to my explanation, I asked myself whether or not I might be "over exaggerating." And then myself responded with a question of whether that was necessary to include the "over." This mental debate went on for the whole 3 minutes of brushing my teeth.

I recognize that I have strange inner conflicts with myself.

At any rate.

I thought this deserved a quick search for truth.

Thank you, Urban Dictionary, everyone's new favorite authority on definitions:

1.	overexaggerate
	To exaggerate, overemphasize, overstate. An idiom. The 'over' is added unnecessarily and its usage is virtually always synonymous with a mere 'exaggerate', rather than a different word, as 'exaggerate' is not a neutral usage verb like the word 'do'. There is no threshold for the word 'exaggerate', so it is not possible to overdo. To 'overexaggerate' is to 'overoverstate'. Only idiots say overexaggerate.
2.	overexaggerate
	To go beyond anticipated exaggeration. Loren overexaggerated when she claimed she exaggerates a million times a second, when previously she stated, "I exaggerate 100 times a day."

Their well-crafted example sentences explain it best.

63 Degrees and Rainy

It's January 27th today.

The middle of Winter.

The coldest season of the year.

And I left my house at 8:30 this morning in my light, 3/4 sleeve jacket.

Because it was 63 degrees outside.

At 8:30 in the morning.

WHAT?!

Lest you get too very jealous of my weather luck, it was also a rainy morning - when it felt like being so.

At the exact moment I was pulling myself out of bed, I heard the wave of pouring rain descend on our house. Being in the attic, I feel particularly close to the weather, and when it rains, it sounds like it will come through my ceiling at any moment (no problems yet, luckily!).

By the time I got out of the shower, the rain was gone, leaving only giant puddles as evidence it had ever come.

I was not at all sure whether I should wear my rain boots to work or not - it was wet, so it seemed valid, but I feel silly wearing them when it's not actually raining.

At the last minute, I threw my rain boots on, deciding to be safe and dry instead of...well, instead of not safe and not dry. Then I grabbed an old umbrella that turned out to be slightly broken, but still usable (my good umbrella was at my office), and I made my way out.

Then I realized I left my keys in my room, so I ran upstairs again (as fast as one can in rain boots, with still very sore legs from CrossFit-ing), and then again left the house for work.

I made it to the Metro a little slower than usual (rain boots slow me down), but otherwise without incident - a few drops fell from the sky every few minutes during that walk - and then saw the train I wanted to catch go past me. I waited only 4 minutes for the next train I wanted, got to the next station to change trains, saw the train I wanted to catch go past me, and waited 2 minutes for the next train to come, then got to my stop and got off.

These setbacks - the keys and the 2 missed trains - turned out to be a little more unfortunate than I had anticipated when I was just worrying about being 5 minutes late to work.

Walking to the escalators, I saw a number of people already pulling out their umbrellas, even though we were still somewhat protected underground. But I quickly felt the rain being blown down the stairs by the wind, and I realized that I was very glad I had worn my rain boots.

It was pouring outside.

Somehow I managed to stay pretty dry as I walked down the sidewalk to my building. I just missed the chance to cross the street and had to wait for the light to change again, using the time to adjust my umbrella so the broken part didn't pour water into my purse or down my back.

45 seconds do not pass quickly when you're standing in a downpour, waiting to cross the street.

45 seconds is also enough time to learn that what one might consider a downpour in one instance can feel like a light sprinkle in another instance - for in those 45 seconds, the rain went from pouring down to crashing down. It felt like buckets of water were being thrown down on me.

In the 10 seconds before I could cross the street in search of protection, I went from being amazingly dry to amazingly drenched. I remembered that my "rain jacket" is not actually waterproof. I learned that my gym bag is not at all waterproof. And I thanked the heavens that I wore my rain boots. And I wished I had waterproof pants.

I walked as quickly as I could, giggling at how sopping wet I was and how hard the rain was coming down. I passed two tourists seeking refuge under a clump of trees and a large umbrella. I ran up the stairs to the door, laughing with another girl about how ridiculous that sudden rainstorm was, and being grateful I had as much of me covered as I did. There were a number of poor souls I passed on the sidewalk (mostly men) who were not so well-covered and were soaked right through their dress shirts (at least this time it wasn't from sweat like it usually is...).

It's been a long time since I've been caught in such a wicked rainstorm. And I was so close to work when it came crashing down the hardest - I couldn't help but feel like those few minutes of delays earlier are the reason the knees of my pants are just barely starting to feel dry again. I might've missed the worst of it, had I not been delayed.

Luckily, I seem to have woken up in a good mood, so I don't really mind. If I'm going to get rained on, I'd prefer to get really rained on. It makes it a little more fun. Plus, I love the look of raindrops bouncing off the ground like they do during such powerful rainstorms.

And I really love walking right through giant puddles in my sweet rain boots.

CrossFit!

So I went to a CrossFit class last night, with a bunch of ladies from my Relief Society. There's a place nearby my home that offers free Wednesday night and Saturday afternoon classes, so we signed up to try it out.

It kind of kicked my butt.

Bit it more so kicked my arms. Those weak, tender things are SORE today!

I'm not sure I'm going to make it through the day. It's exhausting just having my arms rest on my desk while I type this. I'm such a pansy.

But I also feel so accomplished - is it weird that such a difficult, painful workout is totally calling my name again? I'll blame it partially on the owner and instructors of the gym - I appreciated the "you're doing really great, Kate!" and "that looks really good, awesome!" when I just wanted to collapse and die a little bit. I also appreciate the efforts toward getting our names down - the guy who runs the gym spent 20 minutes before the class trying to learn our names. And we brought 20 girls to a class that's normally only 15 people large. So learning 35 names was quite the task. But it certainly helped, so his efforts paid off.

And now, a few things I learned/was reminded of during one hour of CrossFit:

• I'm really good at squats. Those 20 squats each night while I brush my teeth really paid off last night.
• My upper body and soooo wussy! My arms are total wimps.
• I can jump onto a tire that's 20 inches off the ground - my vertical leap is still pretty good, 8 years after my last high jump ever.
• I don't like push-ups. I never will. yuck.
• I'm not effective at all at sit-ups at home - I need someone watching over me so I keep my posture and keep going. I give up too early at home by myself. I need to work on that...
• I sweat a lot. But I'm reminded of that everyday, not just when I work out.
• My legs are tough suckers. Those 20 sets of stairs I take (on average) each day are really paying off.
• No one should ever have to take a picture after working out - but if you do, a far-away picture is fine.

(See?! I really was there!)

And now, my arms are about to fall off my body as I type these last few words, so I think I can't write anymo

Public Transit and Complimentary Curse Words

So the other night, I left work a little late. Only 30 minutes, but you'll be amazed at how much less crowded the Metro is at 6:30, compared to 6pm.

When I got into the Metro that night, I saw my train was on the tracks, sitting there with the doors open. I don't usually run to get trains - people who do that just look silly, and so often they just miss it anyway (and you don't want to get stuck in these doors - they don't re-open for you to pull your purse, umbrella, or leg through with you). But trains also don't usually just sit on the track unless they have to wait, so I'm more willing to rush to catch those ones. Because I'm more likely to actually catch it, you see.

So this train was sitting, waiting for its time to go, so I quickly ran through the doors closest to me. I walked all the way to the back of it, and when I realized the train was still not going soon, I walked out the door and got into the next car (being in the right car makes all the difference - I have a specific car I aim for, so when I get to the next station, I get let out right at the escalators. Location is everything).

I don't often risk car-jumping - what if you get off and the doors close and you missed your train you had already caught?! - but I could feel there was time, so it was worth it. I proceeded to walk to the end of that car to be in the best location for my arrival at the next station.

As I walked by two rows of seats, with two young men - friends - sitting in their separate rows, I heard in one exclaim, in not-so-hushed tones:

"DAAAMN!"

I kept walking, knowing that very affectionate "damn" was for me, but refusing any flattery from it because I knew for a fact that my appearance at the time didn't really deserve any complimentary curse words. So I gave all the flattery to my legs, which I'm sure was what he was referring to - they looked rather trim in my long navy blue slacks and maroon ankle boots.

Usually I'll take a seat on such an empty train, but I was a little flustered by the young man's interest in me and my long, luscious legs, so I just went and stood by one of the doors instead. When I stand, I like to survey my surroundings - I actually like doing that anyway on the train, standing or not - so I looked down the rest of the train to see who I was sharing a ride with. As my eyes passed these two young men, the more vocal one smiled at me (it should be noted, his seat faced the other direction, but he was turned completely toward me - partly because his friend behind him had a seat facing my direction, and partly because I was in my direction), and I, as I usually do when I'm slightly flustered, smiled/grimaced back quickly as I continued my eye-sweep of the train.

As the train started moving, the young man smacked the back of the seat next to him, saying loud-ish-ly, "you can sit here!" I assumed he was talking to me, but I thought it best not to respond, or to sit by him, so I forced my eyes to keep looking down the train.

I continued to either look out the window across from me or down the train - I can't keep my eyes focused well when I know someone's trying to get my attention. When it was finally time for me to get off, I somehow kept up the strength to not look at them as I walked off the train, or as I passed by their window, though I knew they were watching me - sheer willpower, that was. They weren't getting off when I was, so that was the last I saw of them.

Sometimes those experiences can creep a girl out. But honestly, it's been awhile since a complete stranger has sworn at me in a good way when I walked by (luckily, it's also been awhile since anyone's sworn at me in a bad way when I walked by). So I have to admit, I was holding back a smile the rest of the way home.

So thanks strange young man and friend. Your un-discerning eye for beauty was really appreciated Monday night. Here's hoping we meet again some day when I'm in need of another little pick-me-up.

It SNOWED!

This was the view outside my window at about 1am last night/this morning.

It had been lightly flurrying the last 3 hours or so, and that was what stuck. I looked out my window just before I went to bed to survey the new white world we were experiencing in Virginia for the first time this Winter.

I'm always struck by the brightness of the sky during a snowfall. At 1 in the morning, it was a pretty pinkish hue, with pockets of dark pushing harder to burst through the soft, snowy white clouds, without ever quite breaking through. It's a somewhat eerily beautiful sight, I think.

When I woke up today, the snow was still on the ground, but less pristine and calming in the light of day. I don't love snow. I like the sight of falling snow, especially at night when I'm all tucked in safely at home. But once it's fallen, I have little love for it. It just looked like an icy mess when I looked at it.

On days like this, I feel absolutely no need to leave my house (so it was a good thing it was a Saturday). I like to completely block out the cold, frozen world outside my front door, choosing instead to live in the warm, heated world of my bedroom.

And so, I spent the day in my pjs, curled up on my couch in my room, reading my book. I took a timeout to clean our kitchen and switch over my laundry, and I tried to clean parts of my room 2 or 3 times, but mostly I just sat and read. I didn't go outside at all until around 7:30 tonight, when my roommates made us dinner plans. And 2.5 hours later, I came home and got right back in my pjs, all ready to go back to my couch and my book.

I love Saturdays like this.

Miss America Scholarship Fund 2012

We couldn't seem to get our act together on the football field Sunday, but Wisconsin still has something from the weekend to be proud of:

We won the Miss America Pageant! And by "we," I mean some young woman I've never met, who hails from the same state that I was born and raised in. It was a group effort.

For the first time since 1973, and just the 2nd time ever (according to Wikipedia), Miss Wisconsin claimed the highly covetous title of Miss America. And she's well on her way to making the world a better place.

Congratulations, Miss Wisconsin! Way to show the country that the Dairy State produces more than just outstanding cheese. We also produce outstanding all-American girls.

On Wisconsin!

I {Heart} Stop-Motion Videos

So...I think this is really cool.

I really like books, bookstores, and the like. So I really liked this short video that was made in a bookshop, with a lot of books.

But more than that, I'm so freaking impressed by the people who made it. This is just a really cool stop-motion video. Which means it's A LOT of physical work and time. Stop-motion is just so cool, when you think about it.

Very cool.

City Sights While Walking to the Metro on a Mild Winter's Night

Tonight as I was walking to the metro from work, I passed by a guy strumming his guitar, singing Eric Clapton's classic, "Layla."

A homeless man was standing just behind him, singing backup vocals on the chorus.

I don't believe the original performer was anticipating becoming a group act, but I thought it worked.

It begs the question, though: does the homeless man gets a cut of the donation earnings at the end of the night?

On a related note: tonight as I was walking to the metro from work, I realized that Eric Clapton was saying "Layla" in that song. I don't know why I never caught that. I always figured he was saying something like "Hey Love" or something - which totally works. I never expect musicians to use actual names, so I never hear them when they do. I always just make up my own words at that point...

On a related side-note: I'm not nearly as astute in music lyric understanding as I was when I was younger. I was amazing when I was in middle school. Now I practically make up my own songs when I listen to the radio. Case in point: Rihanna's "We Found Love." Apparently she's saying "we found love in a hopeless place," not "in a parking space..."

Which is practically the same thing, if you think about it long enough.

The Legacy Lives On

I've been the recipient of the following question/statement quite a bit lately - and it's surprised me, since I haven't been asked/told about this fact this much since way back in 2003:

OH MY GOODNESS, IS YOUR NAME REALLY KATE BARLOW?

OH MY GOODNESS, YOU HAVE THE SAME NAME AS THE GIRL IN THAT BOOK/MOVIE! {giggle giggle}

OH MY GOODNESS YOU'RE THAT OUTLAW FROM THAT BOOK/MOVIE!

SO YOUR NAME IS KATE BARLOW - ISN'T THERE SOME GIRL IN SOMETHING WHO HAS THAT NAME, WHICH IS SIGNIFICANT FOR SOME REASON BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT IT, BUT I FELT COMPELLED TO BRING IT UP ANYWAY BECAUSE I'M GRASPING AT THE GHOST OF SOME SORT OF MEMORY RIGHT NOW...

and so on and so forth.

But trends are cyclical, and it seems that on this, the 9-year anniversary of a movie that popularized a book that was first published 14 years ago, having the same name as that one character from that one book/movie (depending on how the person actually knows it - it's usually the movie) is trendy again.

After hearing this only sporadically during the last few years, I've suddenly become incredibly interesting to people again. In the last 4 weeks alone, I've had this conversation 3-4 times - in 3 different states. A guy asked about it in New York, some teenage girls got really giggly and excited about it at Abby's church in Arkansas,  and I think it came up again soon after that. And then today, in DC, it was mentioned again, and this time I wasn't part of the conversation. I was coming back into the office from running some paperwork to another office, and as I walk in the door, I hear our staff assistant laugh and say, "I don't know, I'll ask her."

Staff Assistant to me: "Hey, are you some kind of outlaw?"

Me to SA: {smile} "Ha, yes, yes I am."

SA to phone: "Yeah, she said she is..."

{giggle on the other end of the phone}

A girl from another office had called to find out who the scheduler in our office was, and what my email was - I'm guessing I walked in just after the SA told her my name, and she probably got really excited on her end of the phone (they usually do). Then, after he was done with the call, SA asked me about it and I explained the origin of her interesting question.

And really, I don't mind. It's kind of fun being famous for being someone cool/interesting - without actually having to be that person. Because I'd probably be in jail, if we were one in the same. I don't think I'd be a very good outlaw.

I first heard about the book, Holes, when some girl my age mentioned it to me at a church function. We were about 15 or so and she was talking about this book she was reading that had my name in it. She was kind of talking quickly and I still remember only understanding a handful of words she said - basically that some semblance of my name was in her book. I smiled and nodded at how fascinating it was that something she was reading had something to do with my name (I apologize for my lameness then, I didn't feel like asking follow-up questions or getting interested at all). Then we parted ways and I briefly shook my head at how strange that conversation was.

About 2 years later, a movie based on the book came out and I got to know who "Kissin' Kate Barlow" was really quickly. Suddenly I was flooded with similar conversations with people who were excited to realize that my name was her name. Or I'd just sentences flung at me as I passed by someone who wanted me to know they knew my secret. Or I'd catch a glimmer in someone's eye as their brain quickly/slowly made connections between the real world and the fake, movie world. I soon ended up just finishing the sentences of those whose eyes betrayed that they were one of the people who were slowly making the connections:

Person 1: "Hey...wait....diiiid yooouuuu say yooouuuurrrr name is Kaaate Baaaarrrrrlllooooowwwww?" (they always talk really slow...)

Me: nodding my head in rhythm with their slow speech, "Yeah..."

Person 1: "Isn't thaaaat the naaaaame of..."

Me: "the girl from Holes? Yup, same name. She's got my exact name."

Person 1: smiles stupidly, "Wooooooooooaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Coooooooool!!!!!"

Me: "Yeah, really cool."

Those people weren't my favorite - mainly because I was having a 10 minute conversation with someone, with only 4 sentences having been uttered. It's a little tiring.

And of course, the other time I don't enjoy talking about this with a large group of guys, when most of them have no idea who this character is at all, and have never heard of the book or movie. Invariably, one of them recognizes that my name is famous, and then he blurts out (ever so loudly):

"Wait, YOU'RE Kissin' Kate Barlow?!!!

{Cue momentary awkward silence from the previously boisterous pack of attractive guys}

These boys have never heard of her as being a made-up person, so for all they know, I have a really great reputation as being a total skank. Or just for being a really great kisser - which wouldn't be a bad reputation. But when your name gets anything to do with kissing added to it, that just sounds a little bit bad at first.

And, of course, the guy with the original outburst does nothing to attempt to explain the source of his exclamation, so then I sheepishly have to explain it. And obviously, my explanation inevitably takes 10 times longer than it needs to (because that's just how I roll), and they're either bored with me by the time I finish talking or uninterested with me because I don't actually have a reputation dealing with kissing (dangit!).

Any way you look at it, it's a little bit awkward, at the very least.

But generally, the realization and subsequent conversation is fun and short. At the very least, it gets a conversation started, yeah?

It is interesting, though, how often people ask the question in the form of, "were you named after that outlaw in that book?" Dates probably aren't most people's forte, and knowing the publishing date of any book isn't generally part of a person's pop culture background, but I am roughly 12 years older than the book, so while the character is placed in the 1800's, her history didn't start until a hundred years later...so no. She was named after me.

I like to think Louis Sachar met me randomly at some place - maybe our public library, for literary significance - and realized my name was just really cool, and he had to memorialize it somehow. So he used me as his heroine (the person, not the drug) in his book.

But I'm pretty sure that wasn't actually the case.

As it turns out, "Kate" goes well with kissing. This is hardly the first time the Arts has put them together. You'll recall the musical, Kiss Me Kate, which is based on Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew - the musical gets the name from Petruchio's last line, when he says, "Kiss me, Kate!" It turns out that this is one of my favorite Shakespeare plays - maybe I relate to Kate, the main character. Maybe I just pretend like I relate to her. Either way, I enjoy the comedic wordplay and witty banter involved.

But still, having my complete name used in Holes is a little more jostling. Other uses of my name only use my first name (a decidedly more popular name for literature and film these days, I've noticed), but Holes is different - I've never been so wholly tied to one "Kate." I can't escape this until I'm married, unless I choose to keep my own last name like celebrities do. I'll probably want to keep my fame intact even after my marriage, after all. So I'll never be separated from this character that has become a part of me, like it or not.

And yet, I can't really complain. She's kind of a fun anti-hero hero, so it's fun character to be so connected to. And in the movie adaption, my love interest is none other than:

Dule' Hill, aka Burton Guster, from super-favorite show Psych. I may or may not have a huge crush on him. In fact, I almost went to New York this Friday on an even-more-last-minute-trip-than-the-last-time-I-went-to-New-York trip to see Hill's current Broadway show and enjoy the post-performance discussion with the cast, held Friday night especially for Psych fans. Which all boils down to this: 

If my full name has to spend a whole movie crushing big-time on that guy, I'm kind of okay with it.

And when all is said and done, that's really what matters. 

Highlights of Christmas in Arkansas, 2011

A Very Long List of Highlights that still only touch on about 1/16 of my trip to Arkansas:
Gingerbread Houses
Abby and I giggling ourselves to tears during the new Twilight movie (mostly during the wedding scene - we're such girls...; then shielding our eyes during the blood-drinking scene...GROSS)
Conquering Super Mario Bros - all 8 levels, in 4 days. AWESOME.
Finally becoming a worthy competitor in Dr. Mario
Greg screaming CHEEEEEESE!!!!! whenever a camera's pulled out
Just Dance 3 with Ellee Bean - she's a good dancer, that little girl
Receiving Color Me Beautiful from Abby for Christmas. CLASSIC.
Brother-in-Law Devn plucking my eyebrows
Hearing my niece pray that we can all have a lot of fun together
Practicing our wheezy laughs
Awesome Christmas lights at Regional Park in Pine Bluff
Reading Skippyjon Jones books to my niece and nephews
Snuggles with Greg during Oomie Zoomie
Snuggles with Ellee before bedtime
Snuggles with Will anytime at all
Celebrating New Year's Eve with the kids at 7pm
Discussing puss-filled wounds. pussy wounds. Funny!
Getting all dressed up with Abby for New Year's Eve - so we could play games at her kitchen table...
Devn staying up with us to ring in the New Year - 1st time in 3 years!
Ringing in the new year with a big fat YAHTZEE!
Being called "Aunt Kate" with very proper diction by two sweet children - they've got their hard "T" sounds down
Getting my new phone!
Devn's Just Dance 3 profile name (though he never played): DRDEE - because he's Dr. D. But it sounds like dirrrrrty - I like to think of it as his rapper name. Drdee. Perfect.
Eating the annual New Year's Eve cheeseball and wheat thins
The lone flight attendant on my flight from Little Rock to Atlanta - his humor made me a little less depressed on the flight home.
Getting free t-shirts at the Verizon store because my little niece is so adorable
Getting free cookies from Wing Stop because my little niece is so adorable
Getting to spend TWO WEEKS with a fantastic family

Christmas In Arkansas, 2011: New Year's Eve

I won't lie. New Year's Eve doesn't rank on my Top 10 list of holidays. So I've found I enjoy NYE a whole lot more when I keep it more low-key.

This year was probably one of my favorite NYE celebrations - we had two of them, and the first one was probably what made it awesome.

All day, the kids were kind of rambunctious (more than usual) and feisty, and sometime in the evening, Devn needed some personal time, so he left to run a quick errand at Walmart. While he was gone, Abby and I finished a competitive round (or 7) of Dr. Mario, and then decided to get the kids ready for bed.

When they were all in their pajamas, Devn came home from his "quick" errand, bearing gifts of celebration and jubilee! Ellee's and Will's eyes sparkled like the sparkling grape juice when their dad pulled out the party hats and blowouts to ring in the new year - at 7:30pm. He also brought home some plastic goblets for the children, while Abby pulled out the nice wine flutes for the adults - to also drink sparkling grape juice with. That's how we roll.

We passed around the blowouts and put hats on the kids and ourselves, and when the clock struck 7:32:18, we yelled, "Happy New Year!" and clinked our glasses with each other. The kids downed their drinks, practically licking their glasses clean - they like their bubbly - and spit all over their blowouts (which didn't have the whistlers at the end, so we improvised with our own homemade whistle/kazoo sounds). Then we went out on the deck (because it was, like, 60 degrees - what?!) and celebrated a little more. The neighbors were setting off some early fireworks and noisemakers, so we enjoyed the festive mood on the deck, and then came back in for bedtimes.

When the kids were asleep, the adults pulled out the games and got started on our traditional New Year's Eve celebration.

With 2 noticeable changes - one was that Devn was home, and not on-call or on his last day before going to work the next day. He was home and available to stay up with us all night! Hooray!

Second noticeable difference - I brought my jazzy red tunic dress and leggings to wear for New Year's Eve. Last year, I thought it would be fun if Abby and I got all dressed up and pretended like we were all hip and swanky...while we played games on her living room floor. But I thought of it while I was already in Arkansas, and we didn't feel like going and spending money on fancy clothes, even if it was $5 for fancy clothes circa 1987 from the Goodwill. But this year, I was prepared.

I almost chickened out though, because I didn't want to be randomly dressed up while Abby and Devn were sitting around in their pjs - so Abby ran into her room and got herself all gussied up as well, and Devn sported his "Don't hate the playa, hate the game" shirt, which seemed to work, actually. It gave us all more of a fraternity party kind of feel, so we went with it.

Yeah, don't we look like total party girls? And the bottom left picture of Abby and Devo - doesn't that totally look like a frat party picture? I thought it did. And since we're nothing like party girls or frat party-goers, they made me chuckle a bit. We're cool like that.

And with our party outfits on, we sat at the kitchen table with our cheeseball and wheat thins, Diet Coke and sparkling grape juice, and various other treats, and played games for 3 hours, while a Psych marathon played on tv in the background (sometimes I can't handle the New Year's Eve celebration broadcasts on tv. This year was one of those times). We played Monopoly Deal, Golf (the card game), Pound (also a card game), and then rang in the new year with another clinking of our glasses, some "Happy New Year" whispers (kids were sleeping, if you recall), and then played our traditional game of Yahtzee!. I got my new year's yahtzee about 20 minutes into 2012, and we called it good with the games. Devn asked if he could go to bed at that point, and we excused him from the table. Then Abby and I settled onto the couch for a quick round of Super Mario Bros, and 90 minutes later we put the controllers down and went to bed, yawning our sadness about early morning church...

It was a good New Years. And 5 days into 2012, it's been a pretty decent year as well - not counting that our heat in my house broke Tuesday (the day I came back to DC) just before the coldest day of the season came (Wednesday), and the pink nail polish stains I found on my bedspread and pillowcase when I got home - though when I first saw it, I had no idea what the pink was from and my roommates had no idea where it came from either. I received a very penitent email from my roommate's sister today, explaining how the stains came to be, which satiated my curiosity - we were nervous a bum had somehow broken into our house, Goldilocks style, and mess up my belongings. Luckily, we now know no intruders were involved. But if you discount those 2 concerns (the heat got fixed last night, thankfully), the year's been okay to me. Let's hope the next 361 days just get better and better.

Also, I haven't thought of any New Year's resolutions quite yet (because I don't actually ever make real ones with the intent to follow through with them). But maybe I'll get inspiration from other people's resolutions and steal them for myself. Oh, I guess I did make one - in talking with Abby, I decided I was going to be more mindful, more meditative this year. Turn off the music and noise a little more, and give myself time to ponder and meditate more. *Music blaring as I type this...* It was an exercise I did in college, when my Eastern Philosophies professor gave us extra credit for meditating daily. I felt better when I did it. So I'm going to try to unplug and meditate a little more often. We'll see how it goes. I also need to write in my journal more, and with 8am church on Sundays now (gag), I should be able to get back into my pattern of at least weekly writing ever Sunday. Maybe I'll also try to be a nicer person, but we'll see if I can fit it in, with these other resolutions to worry about, too.

Any other ideas/thoughts/suggestions?

Merry Christmas To ME!! and to my parents as well...

You may or may not be able to tell, but this is a picture of my new phone - the back of it. Because the phone cover is really cute, so that seemed most important to get a picture of.

While I was in Arkansas, Abby and I decided that we needed to retire my super hip, technologically-advanced (in 2009), touchscreen phone that's been 3/4 broken, 1/4 cranky for the last 11 months, and upgrade to a more currently technologically-advanced, super hip phone. That's right. I have an i-Phone. I've become like most everyone else. I sit here, typing on my PC laptop, discussing my i-Phone. I'm straddling 2 enemy worlds right now. Just waiting for something to combust. And if my recent trip with my laptop is any sort of sign, it's looking like the PC world is going to go down first...but that's a different story (or lack of story, really. My laptop's getting a little old and starting to show it's age, is all).

Anyway.

My niece Ellee helped pick out my cover for it - she's got birds like these on her bedspread, and I made here paper birds that look like these for her room (totally serendipitous - I had no idea her bedspread would match my birds exactly...), so we've got a thing for birds these days. They're kind of hip and current right now anyway, so it works out that we're just incredibly fashionable. Makes me chuckle to think how much I fought my mom over my wallpaper with the birds kissing on them, and now I like things with birds on them. Not so ironic though, when I think how that wallpaper was still ugly, and these birds are cute. It makes a big difference.

We were pretty stoked about the new phone, even though we had to wait for it to come in the mail (and worried it wouldn't make it to Abby's house before I left...though Fernando at the Verizon store assured me it would). My phone's white, because a white phone was going to be available before a black phone - though I assured Fernando that I'd be happy with either color - I had no preference. Sometimes I get a little hyper-sensitive about how I come across to people when I talk to them. And I'm pretty sure I came across as a complete ditz to Fernando - I base this assumption/knowledge on my inability to remember my phone number, my address, or my name (just kidding, I remembered my name - but my zip code and phone number were quite elusive for some time....awkward). Luckily, I don't think he wanted to kill me for being slightly difficult. Also a plus? With niece Ellee joining me and my sister the second time we went to the store, to get my newly-arrived phone set up, a guy at the store gave the three of us free Verizon t-shirts - that are actually kind of cool. I love having a super cute little niece who makes everyone who lays eyes on her fall in love - we also got free cookies with our dinner the day before on account of her cuteness and sweetness. AWESOME.

And that's the story of my phone. Merry Christmas to Mom and Dad, for finally taking myself off your bill and growing up a little more (officially at some point in the next few days. Totally not my fault I'm currently still on your bill...).

And that's the story of my new phone. I'm trying not to be annoying and checking things on it all the time when I'm with friends or at work - and I'm doing a decent job of it. Yay for retaining some degree of social tact in the face of new, exciting technology! I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship between me and Birdie - the phone's name. I just made that up. Because it's got birds on it. I know, it's totally lame...I'll work on that. Maybe Roger? Faye? Phone?

Name thoughts, opinions, feelings?