everything that’s in my head all day, all spilled out

Thank you, Scott from the bank. April 1, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — mustlovepringles @ 11:45 am

So I went to the bank on Monday- car payment had to be made, issues with the online account, blah blah. My account manager or whatever this particular bank calls them was a really nice new guy who also drives a Subaru (what uuuuup, hippie car owners, we are awesome with our cars made in environmentally-friendly factories and our mega sunroofs). We chitchatted as he got my info- the general stuff about what I do, and he found out I was in school as well, how annoying name changes can be in the financial world (b/c my checks still have my maiden name on them), etc. Good chat- Scott the new guy is good at the art of the schmooze. So I was explaining to him that I do like my current bank (because I don’t bank with these people, just have a car loan through them) but the only kink in the plan is that since I opened my checking account a million years ago when I was like 13, my parents are on the account. I have to have my parents physically sign something in the presence of the bank for them to be removed, or I have to close out the account, and that would mean having to get another account and put my husband and I both on it, get more checks, change the account on all the bills I autodebit, which is like EVERYTHING. The end response was “Yeah, so I’d have to do all that to drop the parents off the account, and basically I’m lazy.”

And Scott glanced at me like I’d just said, “I like to eat coat hangers for breakfast.” And without ever fully turning his attention away from his computer screen as he entered my information, he said, “I’m sorry, but you have a fulltime job. You’re in graduate school. You’re married. I think that’s kind of the opposite of lazy.”

Scott- you have no idea what that meant to me. You have no idea how you, a perfect stranger (although I suppose since we both drive Subarus, we do have a shared automotive passion), just validated me more than I have been able to validate myself since August. YOU’RE RIGHT. I am so not lazy. I actually don’t have enough hours in the day to do all the stuff I’d like to do, and I shouldn’t beat myself up about that. In fact, I should be proud of myself for accomplishing what DOES get done.

So, to the 2-3 of you that read this, you should think about what Scott said. Chances are extremely high that you, too, are not lazy even if you feel like you’re being lazy sometimes, and your imperfections are just you being human and having a lot going on. We can only do so much. And dammit, we’re fragile creatures when you really think about it- you should treat yourself nicely and gently and reward yourself for the things on the to-do list that do get checked off. Go get yourself a mani or a coffee or a margarita, because not getting everything done and having our life in perfect order DOES NOT MAKE US LAZY. It makes us busy people.

In conclusion, thank you to Scott, for making me feel a lot better about myself than I have in ages, and for getting my auto-debit to work correctly. You are a gem in an ugly standard-issue bank short sleeved button down. I appreciate YOU.


The inevitable post where I geek out about my dog. March 6, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — mustlovepringles @ 2:00 pm

Dude, I think I’m unhealthily obsessed with my dog. Not in a creepy, disgusting bestiality way or anything like that- God, no, just not my thing- but I’m getting to the point that I might be verging on treating my dog like she is a human.

In all fairness, I come by this naturally. When I was a kid, I had outdoor dogs. We got them when I was 4 or so, and they’d both passed away (separately, for the record) while I was in high school (late middle school?). When they died, the era of treating your pet as a pet was over, and my parents joined the ranks that my aunts had assembled before- the ranks of treating your dog as an extension of your children. The best way I can put this in perspective is to explain the diet of  my aunt 2’s dogs. They eat a combination of wet and dry food, and the wet food is either Blue (which is organic) or the Beneful feasts (which are real food- like real peas, real noodles, etc) that come in the small Tupperware containers. They also have an organic chow type stuff that I see at Petsmart for hiking dogs or active dogs or something- I think the concept is it’s a log of food you can carry and chop off as needed. So each day, the dogs eat better than I’d venture 95% of the American population. So you see the background I’m coming from. (And for the record, my mom replaced me with a dog when I went to college. She’ll never admit that, but she bought a yellow lab who is named Mia, and Mia is allergic to meat protein and grass. Yeah, I’m not making that up. This is what happens when a) you try to replace a person with a dog and b) you buy a purebred (and c) you finally buy a puppy after your daughter leaves and she can’t watch it grow up through the precious puppy stage.)


So I talk to Gabby like she’s a person. Sometimes this happens on walks, so I’m sure there are people in my apt complx who think I’m nuts. (I’m not as nuts as Henry’s owner though- that’s a story for another day.) I show pictures of her to my oh-so-patient coworkers who are also dog lovers. I also refer to her as the puppy love of my life and my little girl. The latter concerns Evan, should we ever have a daughter. She still is not allowed to sleep in our bed, but I do snuggle with her on the couch. She isn’t the biggest snuggle fan of all time (ie she rarely crawls into your lap) but Gabby is EXCELLENT at scooting over until her butt is firmly against you on the couch, and falling asleep in that position. And when she does that? I avoid getting up or moving because I don’t want to wake her (the dog who sleeps at least 14 hours a day, if not 18.)

But I sort of feel like she deserves all this. I mean, she’s my little bestie. She’s relatively low maintenance since we put her on the all-protein Bil-Jac food (as a childless person, you haven’t really felt fear until your dog is shitting blood on the regular and stops moving/eating/drinking all within 24 hours just 3 weeks after you bring her home- I think I got a very minuscule taste of what parents with hospitalized children feel like). She isn’t all barky bark bark all the time. She is always thrilled to see me. And lately, what makes me happiest is that  she is happy to stay home as my study buddy no matter what social activity presents itself. In no way is that a slight to my absolutely amazing husband, but I don’t want to deprive him of a social life just because I can’t go out much anymore, and it’s really nice to have someone else in the house with me.

Really, could you resist this? Of course not. She’s my favorite little bestie in the world. I heart my Gabbster.

couch hog/my favorite pup

rare snugglebunny moment (her spaying shave is still pretty evident here, we're working on teaching her to keep her legs together. ok, no we're not, because she's a dog- but i felt the need to explain the weird shave mark.)


i'm not going to comment on what the toy could look like, because she is a LADY.


Mission Statement. February 25, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — mustlovepringles @ 11:25 am

I just wrote my first private post. It felt weird. I don’t know why I’m telling you that- it feels like I’m doing the “Guess what? Oh, nothing, never mind, I can’t tell you” move, which everyone in the world can agree is despicable. But oh well, it’s not like this thing has a backspace… wink.

Dolls, I am 27 now. Wowza. Not like this is a new development, since I’ve been 27 for a few months. I’ll turn 28 several months down the road. And amidst all the adult activity of friends having babies and paying off our cars (and planning a Euro trip, woooot), I have come to a decision.

The time has come to accept myself and like what I see in the mirror.

Now, its not like I hate what I see every time I make eye contact with myself. In general, I’m fine with how I look. But see that adjective I used? Fine. It’s like “nice”. These are meaningless words (me saying someone is nice is almost always shorthand for “seems like a perfectly decent person but has not one speck of personality about them I can draw upon and compliment”.)  I don’t want to treat myself like I’m “nice.” I want to think I’m fabulous. I want to stop looking at my hair and thinking it should be brighter, or darker, or highlighted, or whatever. I want to stop berating myself for not going to the gym regularly- I’m in grad school, and I work full time, and I just don’t want to spend the free time and sleep time I have gymming, get over it (that’s directed at me, not at y’all.) I don’t want to keep buying clothes that “will work”. I want to treat me well.

And more importantly, I want to stop questioning me. I want to stop wondering if people think I’m a bitch sometimes when they don’t get my sense of humor, or that I’m stupid if I make a mistake, or that I’m bossy because I’m not afraid to take charge of a situation that no one else is stepping up to. I want to stop questioning my decisions. GOD how I want to stop questioning my decisions. I want to be happy about the path I’m on and not second-guess myself every few weeks, because frankly, the second-guessing is just freaking exhausting and it makes me crazy. I don’t want to stop being introspective and considerate and myself- I just want to stop beating myself up.

So basically, I want to think I’m beautiful and sexy and smart and worthy. And my first step in doing this is trying to treat myself like I am those things (because maybe on some level, I am all of those things.) Tomorrow, I vow to not beat myself up. I vow to put on something I like tomorrow, look in the mirror and be happy, and then to stop the negative thoughts coursing their way through my head throughout the day. I’m going to do this.

And right this minute, I’m going to have a beer and just relax. Because, you know, I deserve it. =)


I feel ka-blah. January 21, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — mustlovepringles @ 12:02 pm

That’s not like Kaballah. It’s my way of saying I was feeling good like an hour ago, and now I feel bleh. The worst part about feeling bleh is that you don’t want to go to sleep feeling bleh, because the bleh cycle just perpetuates and then you wake up feeling bleh and then somehow the weekend turns bleh and do you know what that all results in? PROBLEMS, my friends. PROBLEMS.

This is part of why I hate winter. I feel like winter just brings about the blehs. I don’t want to work out. I don’t want to go do stuff. I am bummed about the end of the holidays, the lack of holidays and vacations for multiple months (I don’t do Valentine’s Day and never have, so I have to wait 2 months until St Patrick’s Day- that’s total BS), and most of all I HATE BEING COLD which directly ties into a natural hate of winter. I’m from a family where 3 of the 4 of us put on a hoodie when it drops below 70- we really can’t hang. So I guess the grand summary is that winter sucks, winter makes me just want spring immediately if not sooner, and I’m basically starting a countdown until Skirt Day* just to feel a tiny bit of warm sun**.

(*For those who do not know, Skirt Day is a holiday celebrated by heterosexual males (and presumably lesbians) that takes place on the first truly warm day of spring, AKA the day that girls whip out their skirts for the first time of the season. My friend D would talk about this in college, and I thought this was so very funny, until I discovered that it’s apparently quite the serious holiday celebrated across this great US of A:

(**For those who do not know (come on, where have y’all been?), there is warm sun and cold sun. Warm sun is the lovely warm sunshine we are all so familiar with. Cold sun is its evil twin, nice sunshine without a single ray of warmth, which I consider to be the ultimate in unnatural trickery.)



2010 January 4, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — mustlovepringles @ 2:09 am

In January, I learned that stressing over the inevitable is just not worth it. Speaking up for yourself, however, is, even though it can lead to stress.

In February, I learned that sometimes a well-deserved reward comes with an unexpected punishment (or just not so good side story). Nothing ever comes free. I also learned that having a dog can result in the the purest love in the world. =)

In March, I learned that things don’t cave in unless you allow them to cave in, generally speaking. It’s all a matter of perception. That said, things caved just a touch, but then we pushed them back up.

In April, I learned that I can be a rock. I can also be an island, but I’m a crappy island- I like people too much to be a good island.

In May, I celebrated a year of trials, tribulations and a lot of happiness and love, and we got a sweet reward that put everything back on track.

In June, I learned that it can be really, really painful to watch others pursue your unpursued dreams, but that pain can affirm all the right reasons why you’re on the path you’ve chosen.

In July, I hit a wall of exhaustion. I climbed it, I moved on, because that’s just what you have to do sometimes.

In August, I took on a long-term challenge that terrified me. I’ll let you know when it ends. It feels like it never will, but I know I’ll get there eventually.

In September, I grew to appreciate more than ever exactly how amazingly supportive and loving my family and friends are.

In October, I don’t even know what I did but lose a work-life-school balance and instead came down squarely on the side of school. Midterms suck.

In November, I officially entered my late twenties as an overall lucky girl who needs to learn to calm down more. I also vowed to be in better shape by 28. I’ve worked out precisely once since that day, just so you know how that’s going.

In December, I finally stopped to breathe. I took time to SLEEP, to finally get a very long overdue cold, to snuggle with my dog and with my nieces and my husband, to enjoy my families, and to try to renew my appreciation for all of them. And I decided to try to make an effort to make each month a little bit more like December. So far, so good.

And in 2010, I ended the year knowing that my husband and I can weather anything together, that I’m so so very lucky to be surrounded by the family I was given and the friend family I have chosen, and that I am never going to be able to be everything to everyone and make everyone happy. So I’m going to try really hard to focus on the ones who matter to me most, and work on making 2011 beautiful and full of love for them and for me.

We’ll take a cup of kindness yet for auld lang syne. =)



So this is how Mean Girls are made. December 30, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — mustlovepringles @ 2:02 am

OK, so I’m still sick, and frankly don’t care about keeping up appearances- so I’m just going to openly admit I’m watching Toddlers and Tiaras. I swore I’d never do that, but I’m doing it. And there is some GOOD STUFF here, y’all. I’m just going to let them write this entry for me.

The pageant, first off, is called America’s Trezured Dolls. I couldn’t ask for a better name.

“My favorite routine is Bathing Suit because it shows my stomach and I like to shake my butt.”- 6 yrs old. Dear God.

“My daughter is going to luxuriate across the stage.”- Mom1

“I had to get like Snoop Dogg McGruff.” Uh, what? Please clarify, Mom1. Oh, that means to bid on Ebay? I see. That makes… sense. And thank you also for introducing me to the term “Pageant Buffies.” “Pageant Buffies are the people who eat, sleep and breathe pageants. We’re gonna show those Buffies what’s what.”

And now the 6 yr old is getting a facial. SHE IS 6, I MEAN REALLY PEOPLE. At least she hated it, there’s hope for her yet.

“If you’re not prepared for a glitz pageant, it can be almost frightening, because it’s like you’re walking into something you’re not prepared for.” I’m sorry, what?

The 6 yr old has a somewhat confused makeup artist/hairstylist. Long blond ponytail, lots of makeup, and a beard. No judgment, just interesting style choices,  Sir Lady.

Uh-oh, what’s this? The pageant stopped? It’s an hour behind schedule? Did I mention this was the first time this Trezured pageant was happening? Fab. The director looks like she’s my age and has no clue whatsoever what’s going on. Moms are getting pissed. Do not piss of the Buffies, director, or they’re going to go Snoop Dogg McGruff on you.

The 6 yr old went and shook her butt. Good times.

And now the pageant is 2 hrs and 20 minutes behind schedule. Seriously, I feel for these kids- these 2 yr olds need naps.

There’s a 3 yr old tossing her hair around and shimmying. Her name is Destiny. Something tells me I know what she’s going to be when she grows up…

Wait, the director left? And before leaving, she gave IOU letters to SOME parents saying all the money prizes would be given out in 2 weeks? What? “Gimme the crown, witch!” Thank you, daughter of Snoop Dogg McGruff. And from McGruff- “The judges must be smoking somethin’, because in my eyes, my daughter was the champion.” Well, obvi.

And 3 months later, no one has gotten their money, and no one can reach the director. Scandal.


OK, I’m officially disgusted with myself and I’m going to watch something educational on the History Channel or something.










Being sick while on vacation December 28, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — mustlovepringles @ 12:21 pm

Is just about one of the crappiest things on this planet. I finally have a nice long 10 day break, and I’m now all sickypants and feeling like total crap. This is highly unfortunate. And then I looked at my credit card, and well, that was unfortunate as well. So basically I’m just taking a minute to say that today is pretty unfortunate.

Gabby agrees- she just moaned in her sleep.