How Hello Kitty Will Save Me from A Mental Institution

What broke my day: The, fact, that, I, use, way, too, many, commas, when, I, write. It's a problem, and I hope that you (didn't) noticed it. My extreme use of commas would be bearable if I used them correctly but I don't. I realize this, and normally it wouldn't bother me, but being a general grammar Nazi, it makes me feel uncomfortable. Yes, I do tend to be a grammar Nazi, my biggest pet peeve being the improper use of its and it's. Also, when people say 'axe' instead of 'ask?'  Oh really, you 'axed' that guy a question, that's just like saying " I took a hack saw to that guy." The fact that I, grammar Hitler, can't use correct grammar when writing, makes me a hypocrite, and I HATE hypocrites.I do however, have a theory about why I use so many commas. When I think in my head as I am writing, I have a conversation to myself in my head. I don't think about the next sentence, or how to word it, I just write what I would normally say, to make it feel more natural. When I'm having these crazy talks to myself, I use lots of pauses, which means.....you guessed it, COMMAS.  Maybe somewhere deep inside my brain, I am madly in love with commas. I try to proofread thoroughly enough to combat this addiction. But alas, Commas must be my heroin, or crack, or (since I'm classy) prescription drugs.  But for some reason, I subconsciously have this need to use commas quite excessively. For example, so far I have used 32 commas (before proofreading) in just this tiny little paragraph. I need a rehab center. I will try even harder to use my punctuation properly, but if we have learned anything from the preceding passage, it would be that I have deep psychological problems (hack sawing people, being in love with commas, addiction, etc), and someone should probably check me into a mental institution.

Brown-thumbs and Peeing my Pants

What broke my day: The fact that I am unable to keep a simple plant alive. I guess God passed me over for the green-thumb gene, because my amaryllis is looking very sad right now. What really gets me is the fact that my mother is like freaking mother earth when it comes to plants, and I feel that I should probably be just as good, but no go. I mean, my mother loves to garden, and she does it almost every day during the summer and spring time. Our backyard looks like it is out of Better Homes and Gardens, not even lying, and she is so humble about it too. But me....my garden looks like a desert, a torrid, life-sucking desert of death. My plant successfully reached a height of about 2 feet, but unfortunately it can't support itself any more and now looks all droopy and depressed and sad. I think it needs some counseling, because it's headed toward the cold, cruel road towards death. Okay, it may not be suicide, but murder on my part, but it's not my fault: the charge should be accidental plantslaughter. On top of its depressed state the leaves are starting to turn all yellow, and not the bright happy sunshine kind of yellow....the yellow of old people nearing death. I can't even keep a simple plant alive, it's amazing that people trust me with their children.

The Hiatus is Ova: Cleaning my room and the Plethora of Amazingness

Okay, So I've been a failure. I get it. But, for the first couple of days of my hiatus I literally had absolutely no time to write anything. And then I just plum forgot. You can curse me to die a slow and painful death involving clowns and dirty needles if you want, but I'm back now, so it's whatevs.

What Broke my Day: Cleaning my room, and the house. Because the craziness of the past week (on Friday I was so absolutely tired that I literally took 6 hours worth of naps, and then I went to bed at 10:30.) My house, and room especially has turned into a mix between a world war 2 battle zone, a hurricane, and an avalanche. It's disgusting to be honest. But I have two views on cleaning: If it's messy, I don't want to put the effort forth to clean, If it's clean I am willing to put forth the effort to keep it clean. This is not really helpful in any way at all. Which would explain why I'm blogging right now. Good old procrastination at it's finest. What's worse about my non-willingness to clean is that my mother insists I clean our living room. I agree that it's pretty vile at the moment, but I hate cleaning even MORE when my mom tells me to do it. I am still a teenager, so of course I want to do the opposite of what my mother says. I also can't clean when other people are around. It freaks me out, and I don't know why. I feel like they are watching me, and criticizing me while I'm doing it: stress equals more procrastination. On top of that I have a laundry list of things to do that I have to get done asap, and I don't particularly feel like doing those, because that would be cleaning also...cleaning up my life.Okay, good news. I just finished the living room while my parents were gone...well, I made it look decent enough to placate my mother. But of course that still leaves my bedroom. the floor covered in shoes, papers, and lots of dollar bills making me look like a stripper. I have my work cut out for me and I really don't want to do it. Picking up your room is like picking up your life, organizing everything and seeing what you own, but forgot you did. I don't want to pick up my life. I mean it even goes against the law of entropy....so I really should just let the planet do its thing.

Mommies know best and the PMS express

What broke my day: Warning: what you are about to read is extremely whiny, and you may just want to skip it because there will be ranting, and complaining, and bitchiness. Continue at your own discretion. Being cranky for absolutely no reason. Today I have been on an emotional roller coaster that I can't explain. I have no idea why, but one moment I'm happy and the next I'm cranky, whining, and then crying. It's like I'm 9 months pregnant or something(which I'm not, because you have to have sex to get pregnant). I don't know if it's because I'm on the PMS express, hungry, tired, or I have glandular issues. But no matter, I feel that everyone is going to get very tired of me very quickly. I've cried twice: once because I got dragged to the beach and didn't have a swimsuit and was bored, and feeling fat and unattractive and was tired of exuding confidence all the time. The second was because I didn't have enough shoes. Yeah....a little ridiculous. I don't think I've ever been this moody, but all I really wanted to do today was sit in my bed and sleep, and get a hug from my mommy. Maybe I'm just having meltdowns because I like to hide my true feelings so that others feel that they can count on me, and today I just exploded. But nevertheless all I want to do right now is go to sleep and cry and hug my mommy. I don't want to get up at 5 a.m. tomorrow at all....this is sad.

Monsoons and Babies

What broke my day: When terrifying storms rip right through your town. Now, I love thunderstorms, and I find that listening to the rain beat on the windows and the distant rumbling quite soothing. I also adore falling asleep to the crashing , and love waking up in the morning to the fresh scent left after a rain. But today, the thunderstorms we had were ridiculous...ly terrifying. I'm talking sheets and sheets of rain, combined with wind gusts like that of a hurricane, and nearby thunder and lighting so close you can almost see where it hit. For a moment, I thought it was the end of the world, and I was positive that God was about to come down any second and admonish me, but then with  a shake of his head and a cautious okay, take me up to heaven. But he didn't, which is good because there are several things I would like to experience before dying. I think what ruined my day the most about this silly little storm was the fact that in the middle of the monsoon, my dog decided that she really had to pee, and she couldn't hold it. I tried letting her out the front door, but the rain spattered her before she even set foot outside the door, and she would have none of that. She is SUCH a diva. Do you know what I had to do? I had to walk outside with her, and wait for her to go the the darn bathroom. THEN, she decided to take her sweet time about it too and choose the perfect place to go to the bathroom. By the time I got to go in the house, I was soaked, and my freshly dried hair was nowhere in sight....and I smelled like wet dog. That made me sad; well, that and the fact that half the town has a power outage, including my fav restaurants, and many people now have lovely hundred-year-old trees as new decor in their living room.

Colds and Babies

What broke my day: Being Sick. And not the I'm going to die because I can't move flu, the kind of sick where you feel miserable, but are not 'sick' (meaning throwing up or having a high fever) enough to have an excuse to spend the rest of the glorious day sitting in bed eating soup and watching chick flicks. It started a week or so ago, but it was a mild chest thingy, but it has reached a ugly, dragon-faced head of grossness. I sound like a man who has been smoking for 40 years, I can't breath through my nose, so I keep sniffling, and I just want to sleep. As for the sniffling, it's not the runny nose kind, where you can just blow and go. No, it's that annoying kind that is too far up your nasal cavity for you to clear it out with a blow horn sneeze without popping your ears; yet it is really annoying not only to me, but to the others around me, which is just fabulous. I'm now crankier than my father (which is saying something) have no desire to do anything, and am so ridiculously tired, I could fall asleep right on this computer. Yet, I still went on with my day running errands, teaching Sunday school, and pretending that I'm up for anything. I'm not doing a very good job of acting however. The worst part of being sick is that whatever you normally do during the day, with no problems, feels like it takes 10 times the energy, which makes the symptoms worse. It's lame, and I'm totally being a crybaby, but is it too much to want to cuddle up with a kitten, hot cup of tea, some bread and soup, and a chick flick? That would make me deliriously happy.
What made my day: Well Harry Potter....duh. But I do have something else that made me happy, but first comes Harry Potter. What I love today is the Harry Potter Movie Marathon on ABC Family. The best thing to ever come to television. I love knowing that there is at least SOMETHING interesting on television all day. It's a small comfort to know that no matter what, amazingness is happening on TV. Who wouldn't want to watch 8 hours of straight Harry Potter. OKAY...so I don't actually spend 8 hours in front of the TV, but it is nice to have it in the background while working out, cleaning, doing chores, and hanging out. But you don't want to hear about Harry Potter (JK....I know you do). The other thing that made my day is that Pamper's commercial. It's just so darn adorable. You know the one, that describes all different baby situations and how every child is a miracle. Well it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and makes me want to have a baby (and this is why I need to spend time with my nephew...Birth control). I mean what woman wouldn't go "awww" at adorable babies. And the fact that the commercial is all inclusive to special needs, multiples, adoptions, late babies, unplanned babies, all races, all colors.....it's beautiful. It honestly gets me all emotional that the company realized that all babies aren't roses and sugar born to a wealthy man and woman in a happy relationship. This is pretty much the first baby company that (even though it was to get us to buy their diapers) made a commercial that is appropriate to all of their audiences that would use the product. If you don't get all super sappy after watching this commercial, you are either a man, or have other problems.

Running to Harry Potter

What broke my day: Running. And Failing. This morning, in an attempt to prevent my funk from coming back again, Lori made me get up and run at 8:00 int he morning. GROSS. We had a 4-mile route planned out, and even though I kept trying to go back to bed. Well, 1 mile in to the walk, we started to run, hoping to run at LEAST a mile. Well, that was a failure. I guess I'm not as in shape as I thought. I got about .1 miles and was dying. So we walked. My stomach started to feel all rumblee in the tumblee, and I just couldn't run any further. It probably didn't help that I had a chai latte right before the run. But whatever, even though we finished the 4 miles walking/running, and I felt pretty good about it, but here's the deal: I came to the realization that I am a failure because I am supposed to be able to run 3.1 miles in a couple weeks. So I felt fat. Making me feel really bad. But that is going to change. Starting tomorrow I am only going to eat healthy fruits, vegetables, maybe some proteins, and hopefully few carbs (unless they are healthy). I'm only going to drink water for the next week, and also, I am going to devote an hour a day to walking and running. PROMISE.