My Submission for the Darwin Awards

I am forever trying to find and maintain balance. And forever failing at it! I guess it's the process of this life. Since starting my new project, I have felt tired all of the time and have had trouble going to the gym like normal. All I want to do is sleep. And thus my life has achieved imbalance.

It must be the mono.

So I thought a nice thing to do would be to start taking a multivitamin...at least it would be a small step in the right direction. And maybe I wouldn't feel so tired all of the time? Right?

I know...it's a pipe dream, but whatev. I didn't think it would hurt.

So yesterday was the big day. I popped my vitamin into my mouth on my way to work. This was followed by breakfast which consists of oatmeal, craisins, brown sugar, and milk (my FAVE breakfast).

However, as soon as I finished eating my breakfast I felt queasy. Like the throw up kind of queasy. It came strong and it came fast, and too late, I was on the freeway. Never did I regret something as much as I did that stupid multivitamin. The inevitable was coming and I was trapped in my car prayng for just 30 seconds more. And another 30 seconds for me to get off at the next exit.

But too late. I was almost there--pulled over on the side of the road with my car door open--when I threw up in an impressive display of projectile gymnastics all over my dashboard.

Needless to say, it was something of a bleak Monday morning as I slowly got out of my car and cleaned it up with a spare blanket in my car. I debated turning around and just going back home, but I'm a responsible adult these days. People need me.

The real issue now is that I'm afraid of multivitamins.

Being Real...For A Second

Maybe you're like me and you pick yourself apart from time to time and find every single thing that's wrong with you. I find myself doing it more often these days. If I went into all of the reasons why I do it...well, we'd be here all day. But lately, I've found myself thinking that I'm not as capable or likeable as I once was. Sometimes it just eats away at you.

For example, there are about a million things I'd like to change about myself. I have no idea why. I'm just an average girl...I just often think it's not enough.

Last week I was at the gym and was watching myself in the mirror as I did lunges off of the step from step aerobics class. For the record, that's one of the hardest things I do at the gym and I hate them. In no time I am breathing heavy and gasping for air.

This time as I was doing it I couldn't help but scrutinize every part of myself while doing these lunges. I was right next to the mirror and could see everything. I felt kind of low.

And then I noticed something--these lunges are 3 minutes long and as I said they are excruciating. But as I watched myself in the mirror, I saw how easily I was doing it. In my mind, my muscles ached for reprieve, but outwardly, my body seemed to handle it with no problem whatsoever. I didn't even seem winded.

I felt kind of proud and grateful for what my body can do. It made me look at myself a little bit differently. I didn't realize how much I am capable of.

30, Flirty, and Fabulous

Mother Nature gifted me with a pretty good hair day for my birthday.

Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider

Picture this, it's Saturday night and Kaylin and I have just gotten back from Bear Lake. We're tired and sunburned. We want nothing more to do than stay in and veg. The good news is that Kaylin had just bought Season 3 of Veronica Mars (which, if you have never seen this show and enjoy sharp, witty dialogue, you're missing out).

Kaylin is putting the DVD in when suddenly I hear the most awful, blood-curdling scream. It rang in my ears.

And there it was, Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider. For reals...it was scary looking. It had legs to here. I wanted it gone.

About a year ago, this guy came to my house named Karl. We called him Big Karl (I think) because he was this big brute of a guy. 6' 5", 300 pounds...massive. As he lounged on our couch I saw a massive red welt that was scabbed on his leg. Around the welt it was red as well. He said he'd been bitten by a wolf spider and had had that sore for about 2 months. Maybe he was leading me on, but all I could see when I saw Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider was Big Karl's big welt. I couldn't get it out of my head.

I looked at Kaylin and expected her to kill it. She looked at me and expected the same thing. We were clearly at an impasse.

But Kaylin was adamant...she was not going to kill Frankie. And so the job fell to me. I wasn't thrilled at the prospect. But I grabbed a shoe and prepared for the worst.

But I couldn't do it...seriously. I stared that gigantic spider in the eye (all 8 of them) and I could not kill it. So I did what any self-respecting woman would do. No, I didn't scream, I grabbed a water bottle and planned on drowning it.

To which Kaylin replied, "Are you really going to drown it? Seriously? Why don't you just kill it with your shoe?"

Yeah, I am officially a weenie.

But I tried to rally. And I pointed that water bottle at the spider just as it ran away behind the TV and Kaylin may have screamed a little. I went on the offensive and saw it behind the TV. I bravely pointed my water bottle at it again and went to town, drenching that massive spider in water. I felt pretty satisfied it was dead until Kaylin screamed again. Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider had run to the other side of the TV. The thing that I had been drowning? An already dead spider.

So then I decided that I needed something stronger than water--poison. Okay, I grabbed a bottle of Shout fabric cleaner and aimed to wage war on Frankie. Except that freaking wolf spider just ran off...practically skipped across the room! I got him with the "poison" and it didn't even phase him. Kaylin's screams were getting louder, by the way. I swear, Frankie was outfitted in head-to-toe armor. It actually made me a little more nervous. If he can withstand Shout fabric cleaner, what else can he endure? And yes, I realize the absolute idiocy of that statement.

Finally, I succumbed and just did what I should have done from the beginning. I grabbed my shoe. By this time Frankie was up on the wall. All I would need to do is pound my shoe really hard against the wall and bam! He'd be dead.

Except, really, knowing that he was practically made of steel, I'm sure he wouldn't be dead on the first try.

I steadied my hand and raised my shoe up.

"Don't miss, you've only got one chance," Kaylin said.

"I know!" I hissed.

Oof...I missed.

I cursed under my breath.

And then finally I had had enough. Let Frankie go down to sleep with the fishies, I thought as I slammed my shoe on the wall with force I didn't know I possessed. Like Zeus the Greek God. And I got him...finally.

I think Kaylin screamed one more time. The good news is, Frankie the Freaking Wolf Spider is dead.

Mother Effing Moths

Excuse my French...but we have mother effing moths in our house. Which didn't seem to bug (he he) us so bad until we discovered that they lay eggsin your food. Oy. I'm dying just thinking about it.

So Kaylin and I spent about five hours removing all of the food from our cabinets, wiping everything down in vinegar, and throwing out about 8 garbage bags of food. Oh, the joys of a bug infestation!

Out On The Road

To be honest, I really hate this picture. I'm in need of mascara and some overall grooming. But...I thought I would take more pictures out on my bike and yet I haven't. Fail.

New Examples of My Awesomeness

Today I plugged in the headphones into my computer and started streaming the radio. I had a list a mile long of things I needed to do at work and I was in the zone. And then my co-worker Lee walked up to me and asked me what I was listening to. He was kind of smirking...which isn't all that unusual for him...but still. There was an air about him.

I pulled out my earbud but could still hear my music...it was kind of loud, too loud. And then I realized, I had not completely plugged in my headphones all the way. Everyone could hear my music.

Thank heavens I wasn't listening to something embarrassing, like Dr. Laura.

...

The other day, I got a phone call from one of the safety guys at work letting me know that a publicly owned vehicle had been involved in an accident on the freeway.

"What's a publicly owned vehicle?" I asked him, because in my mind a publicly owned vehicle was...ah, it doesn't matter. I was way out in La La Land on this one.

"Um," he said, sounding confused. "A publicly owned vehicle is a car that is...um...owned by someone of the motoring public."

Oh.

And then he laughed. For a while.