Friday, August 30, 2013

Hashtag Palooza

We gave you guys a glimpse on Facebook and Instagram at the insanity that spilled forth when Ali was texting me about house drama and included the simple but eloquent #logicforthewin hashtag which, naturally, made me think of Spock.

Because logically, logic leads to Spock.
So Ali posted that screenshot right as I was doing the same, so I took on the next part of our conversation which went as follows...

Only it didn't end there.
Oh, no. Most certainly, it did not.


Then it got into personal conversing with scattered hashtagging but I won't go into that.
Can we just appreciate the perfect line I made over her phone number on that second to last screenshot? Had to shutoff my brain while I was doing that to not care about how sloppy I was drawing those on. But that one is perfect, and on the first try, so we're good.

In conclusion, I do enjoy quoting movies :)

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

My name is Hope and I hate that I'm insecure

HelloGiggles' Guide to Beautiful Eyes

Hope's Guide to Beautiful Eyes; keep 'em clean and see the good in others. See the world with a good dose of optimism and a shade of realism.
I would much rather look into the bare, honest eyes of a kind, caring human than the long-lashed, colorfully lidded, wing tipped eyes of a model worrying about her eyeliner smudging.
Why can't eyes full of life and emotion be more beautiful than the painted ones?

But on the other hand, I know how much better I feel when I look in the mirror and see the highlighted curves of my face and the brighter glint in my eye from the subtle effect of makeup. So I understand the usefulness of makeup. I just wish it wasn't such a crutch.
I think I would've been happier if that HG article had simply been titled "Guide to Beautiful Lashes" rather than eyes. I have never worn falsies, doubt I'll ever get to that stage, and I won't really miss it! My eyes can be just as beautiful without it, thank you very much.
And I doubt the author meant it like that.

Backpedaling story time! I had a rough, rough night last night. We were in bed by 9 o'clock but I didn't actually lay down to finally fall asleep until around 11:30. What was I doing those two and a half hours, you ask? Well without going into too much embarrassing detail, I was on a hormonal rampage throughout our small apartment, crying hot, fat tears and using styrofoam packing pieces to placate my need to dropkick a small baby.
I was basically a rage-monster frothing at the mouth for no other reason than my eye felt like it had something in it while I was trying to sleep and I felt fat.

I tried multiple times to just get over it and go to sleep but the rage would boil over as the bedsheets were too hot, my eye was too irritated, the pillow to lumpy, and my husband too peaceful. Not his fault of course, I was lucid enough to understand that so I'd slip off the bed one more time and go break some more styrofoam and scream into a goose-feather down comforter.
It wasn't comforting.
The current state of my uterus didn't help at all, and probably led the rebellion in my emotions but I was really miserable last night, guys. Naturally, "miserable" in the shallow sense of the word in that my life is basically perfect and my misery was founded in vanity.
Nontheless! I was miserable.
Satan was pulling a fast one on my self-esteem and it wasn't pretty. (ba-dum-tss)
I wash my face every night. I don't wear hardly that much makeup anyway, but I wash it every night and use the Arbonne acne treatment, as well as using a St. Ives exfoliating scrub every time I wash my hair in the shower (which is every few days). I drink three full red solo cups of water every day at work and then some back at home. I hardly ever drink soda and our meals have gotten drastically better. I sleep a lot.
My face still looks like this...

I blame Chrissy for my bravery in posting this photo. (Sorry to direct more traffic to your post deary, but you are just so inspiring. The back a yo head is ridickalous, Sparkle. Own dat ponytail, work dat updo!)
I have never had acne issues this bad in my life...until I got married. Oh, the irony. Granted, I'd much rather deal with it now that he's stuck with me forever rather than attempting to date with that glorious array of gross adorning my face but still.
Not cool.
I'm leaning towards thinking that it's hormonal imbalance that's causing the issue and should probably go see a doctor about it but I'm terrible at scheduling appointments and considering things serious enough for medical intervention.
Regardless, I'm not a fan of what's happening to my face.
So I washed up my face last night to reveal that pictured above, and in case it wasn't painfully obvious enough, my hair has been acting like it's in the throes of the terrible two's and never cooperates. I think I need to get it styled. The cut it's currently in is just NOT working.
And as I mentioned earlier, we have been eating relatively well. For the past couple months I have fruit for breakfast, salad for lunch, something substantial for dinner because by then I'm feeling woozy. We go on walks, I'm constantly mindful of ways to sneak in a little bit of exercise...

...and I'm STILL over 160lbs and it STILL bothers me.
Guys, in no way am I "fat". I know that. In my intelligent brain, I know that. So why do I often feel like I'm staring at Jabba the Hut when I look in the mirror before stepping in the shower?
How terrible is that? Why can't I just erase all that body image garbage weighing down my mind and realize it makes no difference to what kind of person I am?
Doesn't my character matter more than my appearance?
Shouldn't I be more worried about which soup kitchen I can get a shift in? Shouldn't I be answering the call from the United Blood Services (programmed as "vampires" in my phone) to set up an appointment rather than ignoring it? Shouldn't I dig through my cupboards and cook up a casserole for the sick family next door? I don't even know if there is a sick family next door because I don't know my neighbors! (Most of them are potheads and wouldn't answer the door anyway, /shrug)
How did I let it get this bad? How did I get to the point that I'm so wrapped up in how I look that I'm barely seeing anything around me that I can help with?
It's unfair to myself that I'm having this existential crisis in the middle of our moving adventure so pretty much I look terrible ALL the time as well as I need help from OTHER people as well as my time is mostly blocked out with packing and cleaning and working.
On a similar note; finally did laundry last night. Found a clean load of Mark's shirts in the dryer that had been sitting nice and pretty for probably a week, ready to be folded. Sorry, babe.
Guys, how am I gonna be a mom with my mind and ego in this blubbery, compromised state? How am I gonna look at my post baby body and think, "Those stretchmarks and those sore boobs are so worth it and I am such a beautiful woman," when I can't hardly do so with my young and healthy body now.
How can I teach my daughters their worth when I don't even see my own? Or my sons!
How can I teach my children to look beyond themselves when I don't see beyond myself?
Do as I say, not as I do?
While I was up and miserable last night I got out my landscape drawing pad, put it up vertically and using a black sharpie started scrawling angrily all the things I hate about myself.
It started with a huge, all-caps UGLY underlined at the top and went from there. By the time I got to the bottom there wasn't room for all the words and I started filling in the holes back up the sides.
It sounds horrible but it was cathartic and I'm glad I did it. Why? Because at the end of it all I looked at my terrible piece of loathe-art and realized that the majority of what I'd written was all outward appearance based. "Fat", "ugly", and nit picky bits about my face and body that I don't view as perfect.

I am guilty of having the word "vain" on my scribbled list (all these issues are stemming from looks, after all), but Rowling makes a wonderful point that was immediately brought to mind as I surveyed that paper I'd emptied my insecurities into.
If those are the worst things about me, the terrible, awful things that were making me cry and tantrum late into the night...then maybe I'm not doing as bad as I think. Maybe I'm actually okay and just need to forget myself.
In that moment by myself with my page full of downers I desperately wanted Mark to realize something was wrong and come check on me. I wanted him to come hold my face and tell me every good thing he's ever seen in me and convince me that I was wrong. That the things I saw weren't true.
But he was asleep. And it's not his job. He can't control or directly affect the way I see myself. And he shouldn't! They're my eyes and my brain and my responsibility. I'm grateful for his presence and ability to bring me back to reality when my ego's getting unmanageable. I'm grateful for his love that reminds me that I'm worth something beyond my contribution to fashionable appearances.
I need to take care of me. I need to love me. I need to forget me and be more mindful of others. Did freaking Jesus care about his complexion and whether his robe was hiding his tummy fat? No! He was too busy healing blind people and spouting parables and turning water into wine.
I can't do any of that, obviously, I'm no doctor or Messiah and I'm no good with symbolism and making up stories.
But I can visit lonely people. I have a healthy body that could do yard work for those less...sprightly. I could call my Mom more. I could cook dinners for busy Moms. Wouldn't I rather my hands be dirty and scratched from weeding/pruning somebody's yard than adorned with the swankiest manicure around?
Wouldn't I rather my feet be sore and tired from walking with my husband, enjoying the fresh air rather than propped up and chillin' in front of the tv?

I would! I would so much rather!
And I would rather the world did it with me, too.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Easily Distracted Song lyrics

What if songs had ADD and randomly just drifted off mid-sentence?

"If you cut me I suppose I would bleed..."
Owl City

"I like where you sleep..." Edward? Is that you?

"Farewell powdery paradise..." this can either be a donette factory accident fantasy or a substance abuse lamentation.
Owl City

"Midair, I woke up..." that's called levitation. Gozer may be interested in your fridge.
Owl City

"Cuz I don't want you to know where I am..." they have witness protection for that.
Relient K

"I'm waking up in ash and dust...." #pompeiiproblems
Imagine Dragons

"Home is a boxcar..." 

Owl City

"You and I ignite..."
"I set fire to the rain..."
"The frozen days we set ablaze..." um, arson is dangerous. Ya little pyros.
New Heights, Adele, Owl City

I've always admired Owl City's Adam Young and his lyrics but recently I just kept hearing "if you cut me I suppose I would bleed" separated from the rest of the song and it made me giggle. Then I pictured songs as little balls of walking color repeating their lyrics to themselves but getting distracted and making zero sense.

Any songs you can think of that are extra bizarre taken out of context?

Monday, August 26, 2013

This is my journal and I write what I want!

I seriously just had to switch off my Piano Guys radio because it was simply too stressing, painful, depressing, all words not normally associated with that station. I was getting so emotional though, because I've suddenly discovered just how much I've missed having my piano so readily accessible. My parents recently moved and it's not even that they moved far away, they just don't have a good spot in their current house for a nine-foot piano so it has stayed packed up and standing on it's lovely side. The fact that in three weeks it could be unwrapped and set up in my own house is killing me and my fingers are itching to get at it again.
I would also like to make it known that I feel so silly for this post. I am such a snob and I own up to that. "Oh, poor baby doesn't have her $30,000 instrument to play on. Pobrecita."
K, but srsly guys this is hard.
That piano holds more of me than I do.
My whole history is in that piano.
I can measure my life by the songs that have gone into that piano.
So while yes, it is silly just know that there is a reason behind my pining.

Everyone's faces when I start talking about
that darn piano again.

Me, deciding if I care or not.

How I feel these last three weeks of waiting.
Waiting and signing and waiting.

When I get those title papers in my hands tomorrow.

And then waiting for the current owner to move.

Watching her moving truck get filled and roll away.

Our first walk through the empty house.

Realizing we have to paint and carpet the whole house...
in one week.

Finishing it cuz we be boss like that.

Deciding where to put all our stuff.

Realizing that we've just moved our whole life
into our very own house....

But then...

We're homeowners.

It's gon' be gooooood!

Original Friday

So basically I had a conniption on Friday and thought I could post something worthwhile rather than silly and I'm not sure what came over me but it got super serious and weird but I'm not apologizing. I still believe in what I said. Not my normal MO in the blogosphere but hey, can't always be bizarre and random and off-the-wall.
Except here's what I had written for that day, then didn't post because I wrote my Batman post instead (here if you missed it). It's going to be a bit of a timewarp because ain't no way I'm going through the whole thing and rewriting it so that it's properly worded in the past. But I will at least put it in another font. That denotes wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey difference, right?

I just realized I feel like poor Mrs. Bennett today. At least the Kiera Knightley movie version.
I'm sniffling so I constantly have a kleenex up to my face (no handkerchiefs for this girl, sorry). My hair is falling about my face in frantic tendrils. There's a burning behind my eyes, resulting in an ever present appearance that I'm on the verge of tears.

Other than that revelation, today is so bipolar.
We got up at the blessed hour of five to be over at the house and help out with the estate sale.

Which was actually kinda problematic in that I wanted basically half of what she is selling! That painting in the bottom left corner? Desperately wish to re-border it in white and hang in a bathroom. The pink lamp that is quite popular on my social media? Definitely wanted that for the nursery. As well as a table lamp that was the same kind of pink but fluted glass.
And mirrors. Apparently I have an obsession with mirrors. We already have...(quick head count)...eight? Yeah, eight decorative mirrors. And she had quite a few. Mark noticed my gaze linger longingly and gave me a cute stern look with a firm, "No."
And I sighed because I know we don't need 'em. I don't even know why I like them so much. I guess I wasn't traumatized enough in those mirror house carnival attractions.
Now I'm at work and waiting for my dear husband to bring lunch in and wondering how much it would help/hurt if I ransacked the break room cupboards and swallowed a mix of every kind of medicine available. But I won't. Because that would require getting up. And I'm doing as little of that as possible today.
But after work I get to rush home, change, grab a quick bite to eat so I'm not that starving person eating all the snacks because then I'm headed to the Blogger Meetup at Clothes Minded! I am so stoked. I missed the last meetup and was very put out because I didn't go.

(Anyone else always think of Humperdinck with the words "put out"? "I shall be very put out"...please say it isn't just me...) 

I love my blogger friends and recently remarked to one of them, "When did I start having too many friends to keep track of? What is this nonsense?"
These women are inspiring, and lovely, and remarkable, and funny, and joyous, and I love getting to know them in person along with reading their wonderful words. Even the ones with the "lifestyle" blogs. They make me feel normal and part of something really worthwhile. Blogging is the greatest.
And then I'm chillin' with the bestie cuz what better way to start the weekend off right?
Answer; there is none better.

So in short, I'm tired and grumpy because mornings and headcolds, but I'm so happy because I saw our house again today and I can't wait to be living in it, but I'm bored at work, but I'm excited for tonight, but I'm afraid I'm gunna drop dead cuz this is a pretty full day for a burgeoning sicky.

So thusly I'm Mrs. Bennet? I dunno, it made sense at one point, now I kinda forgot how/why.

Disapproving Mrs. Bennet disapproves.

Whew! And just because they're so wonderful, I'm stealing pics of the blogger meetup since that's what I talked about in here anyway...

All us lovely ladies (minus our dear photographer Ali) with 
Ashley of The Shine Project!

They even let me in their nice pictures.
Such saints.

Flash loves me.

Ali/Allie Sammich

Teach me how to photogenic.
I'm seriously a project child, guys.

Oh yeah, um so this happened.
I need another Cafe Rio enchilada style burrito.
Like, need

Mirror pics in Home Goods.
Not a good place to discover on the eve of owning a house.
Kiss da monies goodbye.

You people are my favorite!
So happy to have met you and I just want to keep y'all around forever.
Thanks for laughing with me and 
for all the smiles.
You make it easier to live with the 
less-sparkly side of this world we live in.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Hello, Batman?


Did you think this was gonna be about Aflac?

Er, I mean Affleck? A certain Ben Affleck?
I honestly don't care. I have my Batman trilogy from Christopher Nolan with Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Michael Caine, and Morgan Freeman. I'm good.
But here are other things happening that should probably mean more to you than which Hollywood star has landed one more role in a blockbuster years down the road.

LGBT awfulness going on. I am refraining from getting into this too deeply but can't we all act like humans with souls and just not make others miserable?

Sketchy on the culture included in the earth you live on? Educate yo'self. 

Ever wonder if Brits sit around trying to speak 'murican? If you have, enjoy a simple diagram of how some europeans view America.

Buzzfeed not a viable enough source? Apologies.

Syrian chemical explosions and dead people. UN wants answers. American intervention? Or maybe all a false-alarm.

I guess I'll take record heat over bombings. None of our business right? Certainly. There is no need to be sticking our nose into other countries' wars until called upon. But under no circumstances do I believe that gives us any validity to sticking our heads in the sand, content to just carry on with our tabloid musings and coffee sipping.

Educate yo'self.

There's a whole world we're living on. There's no magic bubble around your life that keeps you quarantined from it all. It's your job to keep up on what's happening, to stay informed, to be aware.
None of us is going to be able to stop the bombs. None of us has the power to retract the toxic chemical gases. No single one of the microscopically small margin of people who happen upon my blog will be able to tackle the prejudice and absolute horrific circumstances revolving the LGBT community right now and fix it.
But I do believe in chain progression. You can make a difference for someone. And that someone can make a difference for another someone. It's painfully slow, it's barely anything, but it's progress.
 Christlike attributes aren't holding aloft the tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments and beating the heads of our fellow man with them. Being Christlike is not taking it upon ourselves to teach and reprimand and "fix" others.
All we are required to do is be kind and use our time to help others. All the rest will fall in line. Service is a big deal in my church and I don't do near enough of it. I feel the effect in my life when I am or am not serving. Starkly. That's something I need to work on.
There will always be people around to help when times are dark and hearts are heavy.
Be one of those people.

Be the single candle held up against the darkness.
"Be the change you want to see in the world."
Be the example.
Use your powerful choices to open the hearts and minds of those around you.


Thursday, August 22, 2013

Really Real Chronicles the Third

One of these days I'm gonna forget how many of these I've written and have to stop numbering them. But until then, the cheesy titles remain!

Throwback to elementary school (look at me being all caught up with the current trends, tbt-ing and jazz, I'm so cute); It's recess in spring and playing outside is the greatest. I remember I was wearing some stretchy type legging pants, probably a dark navy blue or maybe a brown and a loose cotton shirt. Fashion was obviously very important to me at such a young age.

You know it, NPH.
Anyway, anyone else imagine they are a secrety-awesome agent of awesome and can do all those cool evasive maneuvers and defy physics simply because they're awesome?
Yeah, me too.
You see where this is going yet?
I was, for whatever reason, on a patio type area with a ramp down to the lot where the playground was located. There was some friendly teasing going on and people blocking my way down the ramp football style. So I took to the ramp railing, sat my butt down on the patio overhang and attempted to swing myself through the bottom of the railing and down to the pavement below.
Minimal arm strength plus plain ole physics rendered me bent awkwardly under the railing, toes brushing against the ground, just out of reach. My shirt had scrunched up over my belly from sliding along the concrete as well as grating against my bare back in raking scratches that now stung along with my injured pride.
Do I pull myself up? Okay, that's apparently not possible. Thanks again weak arms. I appreciate the help.
Do I try and readjust my shirt? No, I'm still awkwardly half laying, half standing against the concrete.
I have to continue sliding along the concrete edge, mangling my back even further, exposing myself even more and try not to cry from humiliation and pain.

Needless to say, I had a hard time sitting back in my chair for the rest of the day and never went near those railings ever again.
Also, I'm not a ninja.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013


Shows that I want [NEED] to get into based solely on the fandoms; 
(and the fact that the shows themselves look


Alright, this is actually because I'm already obsessed with 
Benedict Cumberbatch but I digress.

Not to mention I need in on all these faces
Martin makes...


You, you sneaky fandom you, 
you guys made me think this show was SO different
than what it actually is. 
I got about half a season in and realized
all the quirky and funny I'd been seeing all over the internet
is NOT included in the episodes.
(Well, in small quantities, perhaps.)
The poor Winchesters.

But dood, dat face.

Doctor Who

But not just one Doctor.
I want to see them ALL.
I desperately desire to be a Whovian
but I am painfully aware of how much effort 
(ahem, time) that is going to take.
And then on top of the fact that 
I won't be a true Whovian
because I had to get in
after the fact.
Sad Hope is sad.

I want to, Matt! 
I really, really want to.

Plus, "wibbley wobbley timey wimey"?
He speaks my language!

I'd be a great Whovian guys,
I swear.
Somebody make me an honorary Whovian?

Legend of Korra

Is that even right?
That's what it's called, right?
I love the artwork for this one
and I wish I'd seen the Last Airbender.

That is legitimately what I dreamt of being as a child.
And talk about a role model. 
Kickbutt AND clothed?

I'm already a Browncoat.
In fact, Whedonites unite!
I'm an Avengers fangirl (I've seen "Shawarmamers" as a proposed fandom name, lawlz).
I get misty-eyed just thinking about Harry Potter.
LOTR comes out every rainy day. (Aragorn so hard. You can keep your silly Legolas.)
BAT. MAN. Christopher Nolan. Uggggh.
I would most definitely probably maybe have an affair with RDJ if the opportunity arose. No shame.
I am endlessly saddened there isn't a more prominent fandom for Mistborn. /le sigh.
My heart is made of Disney.

The list goes on and on. 

I'm afraid though, that the only way I'm going to be able to start getting into these shows/fandoms is once I have more time at home. Which if you read my last post (and judging by the amount of pageviews I got since posting, you most likely have) (holy goodness guys, put the word "baby" in the title and suddenly everyone and their mom wants to read) is only gonna be once we start having kids.
Is it sad that this fact makes my desire to have children skyrocket a bit?
My kids will have the best taste in shows.
It's for the children!

You're judging me, I can feel it.

Oh yeah.
House, too.

It never ends.