My cat is extremely jealous of Grumpy Cat, which has absolutely nothing to do with the content of this post.

Published November 21, 2014 by Malia

According to the countdown app on my phone, I’m only 3 days away from turning 30…and I’m only 113 days away from my wedding.

No, that’s not a typo.

The boy and I are gettin’ hitched!

Feel free to take a moment and join me in the “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!” Squeal-A-Thon that I’ve been having for the last two weeks.

That’s a large part of why I’ve not written much lately. It wasn’t really public knowledge until last Sunday. Now, though, pretty much everyone I know knows, so I figured I was fine saying something here.

The other reason I haven’t written much is because I’ve not wanted to sound like a broken record. My life is pretty routine. I work hard at my awesome/crazy stressful job. Sleep. Go to the boy’s house to hang out every few days, and usually use that time to catch up on all the shows that air while I’m at work (Flash and Scorpion are excellent, by the way). The super cool thing about being engaged (y’know, apart from getting to marry the love of my life and start a whole new life adventure) is that I actually have new things to write about.
So stay tuned as I start a new decade of life. Wow, that sounds cheesy. And now I want pizza. Which isn’t a good thing if I really want to be able to wear the gorgeous dress in 113 days.

113 days. I’m getting married in 113 days. I cannot hardly wait, I’m so excited!!!!!!

That’s not how it works.

Published November 7, 2014 by Malia

What follows is something funny that happened at my work this week. Since I work in a medical reference lab, I see all kinds of specimens. This can lead me to talk sbout things that aren’t G rated, but I do my best to stay out of R territory. Consider yourself warned.

A few days ago at work we received a specimen to be tested for gonherrea & chlamydia. Two super fun STDs. We get quite a few specimens through our room to be checked for these diseases. Unfortunately, the specimen we received wasn’t your typical submission. It was synovial fluid from a knee.

Now, this may not seem weird, but keep in mind, we’re talking about STDs. After 2+ hours on the phone, calling every reference lab we work with, and getting told the specimen was completely unacceptable, I came to the following conclusion…
If you have to get your knee fluid checked for STDs, you’re doing sex wrong.

Lazy Saturday

Published November 1, 2014 by Malia

We are in recovery mode currently. Yesterday the boy was a groomsman, and we stayed until the party was over at midnight. Since it was Halloween, the party was a costume party. The wedding was Magic: The Gathering themed, so the boy’s costume was Tezzeret, and mine was Jane Austen’s Catwoman. I love Catwoman, but there’s no way I’d ever wear the leather cat suit. Which got me to thinking outside the box. I got to wondering what it would look like if Jane Austen had written Batman, which led to what I think was a pretty cool costume. Mom made me a beautiful Regency style dress, I found a fantastic laser cut metal cat mask, and dad hot-glued fake nails to a pair of lace gloves. I was pleased with the end result.

We are adorable!

He had to be into work crazy early, which means he got off of work early, and now I’m crashed on his couch doing boring things like paying bills, and he’s asleep in his recliner. It’s peaceful and a rather nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

It’s the beginning of November (a fact that you’re aware of if you know how to read a calendar). This means I am officially at the end of my twenties. 23 days from now I’ll awaken as a mature, thoughtful, classy thirty year old. Or, I’ll just wake up as a 30 year old who’s really no different than the 29 year old I currently am.

I do want to start my 30’s on more positive, emotionally healthy ground than I meandered through my twenties with. For the most part, my twenties will forever be locked in my brain as this murky swamp of a decade where I made some really terrible decisions. However, I also made some really fantastic friends. It’s been a strange decade, that’s for sure.

Also, since it is now November, it is officially NaNoWriMo. When I finish this post, I’m going to start working on my novel. I really have no idea what I’m going to write about this year, but I figure the important thing is that I at least participate in the exercise.

Brain Mush

Published October 17, 2014 by Malia

I’m currently on Day 5 of not seeing the boy. Normally, there’s a 3-4 day break between seeing each other every week. However, this week, the boy is working nine days straight, which means the break between seeing each other is going to be six or seven days. While I’m proud of him for being a grown-up and a hard worker, I’m really pathetic, and I miss him quite a bit. Normally, I hit this pathetic level around day 3.

Wait…mom’s probably going to read this at some point…and she will point out that I start whining about missing him on day 1 of not seeing him.

I’d say I’m in in boy withdrawal, but that sounds too Twilight. We are definitely not Twilight. I may be as clumsy as Bella, but I hope and pray I’m not that shallow and vapid. Plus, no one in their right mind would ever accuse me of vegetarianism in any form.

And now I realize that I’m really rabbit trailing, and I really do have something I want to write about.

I’ve been noticing lately that when I’m around the boy, I kind of turn into an idiot. See, this is how my brain normally is…

It’s all active, and mostly working normally. I’m able to communicate with most humans on some level. I’m capable of intelligence, and on special occasions I’m witty.

Now, when I’m around the boy my brain does this…

I have no idea how it happens. He’s smart. I’m smart. We’re two intelligent grown-ups. I’m crazy about him, and for some reason that means I go from intelligent to babbling ditz in less time than it took to read this sentence. I think the good part of my brain gets locked up by the bad parts of my brain, but it can still see the train wreck that is coming out of my mouth…and I’m pretty sure it hates me for it. I will be spewing absolute nonsense, and I can practically hear the intelligent part of my brain (the part that’s locked up) screaming, “What?! Where did that come from? Why would you ever say that? Do you have any idea how idiotic you sound right now? Are you attempting to make a joke? You know that wasn’t funny, right?”

For some reason, it gets even worse when I try to be funny. I’ll make some joke about something stupid, but because I’m actually trying to be funny, it doesn’t come across as funny. Apparently, I only have good delivery when I’m not trying. For example, last weekend I made a joke about how the boy totally needed a mirror ball to hang from his ceiling of the living room, and painting the walls hot pink and the ceiling black would absolutely complete the room. It was a joke. A terrible joke, that I may have brought up one too many times over the weekend. I’m pretty sure it was never that funny, and I’m also relatively certain the boy is never going to trust me with any interior decorating. Which is a shame because I really do have excellent taste.

I’m really hoping it’s not just me. I truly hope there’s a whole group of intelligent women who turn into Brain Slugged idiots around their boyfriends.

We Went On An Adventure: Part 2~License Plate Butts and Chlorinated Food

Published October 15, 2014 by Malia

I’m relatively certain that no one has ever looked at me and thought, “Man, that is one spontaneous girl.” There is good reason for this. I’m really not spontaneous. I’m kind of an obsessive planner. I want to know what I’m doing, where I’m doing it, when I’m doing it, and why I’m doing it. Re-reading that last sentence, it occurs to me that most people probably look at me and think, “Control freak!” I’d love to deny it, but it’s not on my schedule for today.

Anyway…the point is, the trip the boy and I took over Labor Day weekend, was a true exercise in spontaneity. A good thing for the both of us. The decision to be spontaneous is what led to us going to Cheyenne on the way to Denver, instead of just driving straight from Nebraska to Denver.

Leaving Nebraska, Entering Wyoming

When we reached the eastern outskirts of Cheyenne, we decided to see what there was to do in Cheyenne. Our options were a bit slim, but we were determined. This is what led us to try to find the Cheyenne Transportation Museum. We ended up at the Cheyenne Depot Museum (which a Google search I did just now, showed me that they are actually the same museum), and it was pretty interesting.

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The museum is housed in the old Cheyenne Union Pacific depot (much like the Durham Western Museum here in Omaha is in the old Union Pacific Depot). It is definitely a work in progress. Most of it is completed, but there were still some empty cases with signs asking for donations.

Yes, of all the things I could take pictures of, I had to take a picture of the bathroom.

They’ve done a lovely job, though on the museum, and it was definitely worth a visit.

I personally enjoyed this sign:

It’s kind of hard to read, but it states that you can travel “Through to San Francisco In less than Four Days, avoiding the Dangers of the Sea!” I’m not sure how they were getting to San Francisco from Omaha before trains, but apparently it was a super weird way that involved ridiculously large bodies of water.

After we left the museum we wandered around the town square, for awhile. Apparently there had been a beer garden earlier in the day (they were tearing it down when we were there), and there were plenty of barriers up with these signs:

Cuz, y’know, the one thing drunk people are really good at doing is reading and obeying signs…

One really cool thing in the square was this sculpture of a horse made up of tools and other metal things. I especially loved the license plate placement.

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Eventually, a storm rolled in, and we decided to head to Denver.

That’s the sign announcing we were about to enter Colorado. I wasn’t exactly having a successful photography moment.

Here was our first view of the mountains off in the distance:

We had a really beautiful drive as we headed south through northern Colorado, headed for Denver…

Once we got to Denver, we met up with my former roommate from my music ed. days (she was kind enough to host us that night). I hadn’t seen her in about 8 years, and it was really good to get to see her again, and meet her son.

My boy agreed to go to visit the sight of one of my favorite childhood memories that night. If you’re familiar with Denver, you’ve likely heard of Casa Bonita. It’s this weird little place in the middle of a strip mall. It’s been there forever. I have really fond memories of the place, but the visit reinforced something I’ve been learning. Some things from childhood are better left as a memory, with the rose-colored glasses of childhood to tint the memory. To be honest, the place looked tired. As in, needs fresh paint tired. The “food” tasted just as un-food-like and as chlorinated as always.

At least the sopaipillas were still delicious.

Coming Soon-ish: I tried to fall off a mountain, and other great moments in spontaneity.

Don’t sacrifice something precious on the altar of “Fitting In”

Published October 2, 2014 by Malia

When I was in first grade, I had a substitute teacher tell me I was stupid when I asked for help with the math we were learning. We were learning to do addition when you have more than two sets of numbers. Math has never been my strong suit, and what was easy for my peers was insanely hard for me. I realized a few years ago that the substitute was wrong. I wasn’t stupid; it was just easier to tell me I was, instead of trying to figure out a different way to explain it to me.

Despite the fact that I’ve come to terms with what happened when I was seven, I’ve recently started to realize that it was that moment that set me on a path that I regret.

Throughout elementary school, I constantly found myself in situations where my peers seemed clueless about the things I was saying. I used words that seemed normal to me, and most of the time those words just earned me blank stares. I remember people commenting frequently on those “big words” I used. Around sixth grade it started to dawn on me that being smart was great, but it was really lonely. I already stuck out among my peers because my dad was both a pastor and the town garbageman, and being intelligent just was an added ingredient into the mix that kept me from fitting in.

So, I locked up my brain. I sealed up those parts that would help me achieve, and took to playing dumb. I found that if people believe you’re dumb, they go easier on you and quite a bit less is expected of you.

Recently, I’ve come to realize that I don’t want to play dumb anymore. It’s cost me too much in life, and I’m sick of giving up what I want because I’ve put so much importance on fitting in. Unfortunately, what I’m discovering is that it’s not terribly easy to undo nearly 20 years of playing dumb. I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I’m only average and am incapable of achieving anything, that my brain is rebelling quite a bit against my decision to unlock it. There’s also an element of fear. It’s scary to decide to stop choosing the easy option. However, I think (and hope) it will be worth it, in the long run.

I Might Be A Terrible Person

Published September 24, 2014 by Malia

Tonight I was driving home from work, and had something happen that is really bothering me.

I was sitting in the left hand turn lane at a red light. The intersection I was at is one that usually has heavier traffic, even after 10 pm when I’m usually headed home. As I was sitting at the light, I became aware of someone knocking at my passenger side window. When I looked over, there was middle-aged (looked to be in her mid-forties) woman standing there wanting me to roll down my window.

I’ll be honest, I got scared. I was alone, it was late, and this woman had appeared out of nowhere. Out of all the vehicles at the intersection, she had picked mine, which certainly couldn’t have been her first choice, especially since she had to pass several vehicles to get to mine. Even weirder? The intersection I was at is one that is right next to several restaurants (fast food and sit down), and gas stations; so it wasn’t like I was sitting out in the middle of nowhere leaving her with nowhere to go. Plus, my stupid brain wasn’t helping. All I could think about was the woman who got murdered last summer when she was on her way home from work (http://www.wowt.com/home/headlines/Andrea-Krugers-Murder-Was-Quick-and-Random-222445351.html).

My paranoia got the best of me, and I ended up pulling away from her. I saw her walking (not running, or even walking with much haste) towards the Village Inn on the corner. I’m hoping that the lack of haste indicates she wasn’t in trouble.

I’m hoping that she’s okay. I honestly don’t know what I should have done. I know plenty of people who wouldn’t have thought anything about rolling down the window, but I’m apparently not one of those people. I apparently assume the worst about everyone, even if I have minimal reason to. Did I do the right thing by putting my own safety ahead of someone else, or was I just operating out of fear? (This is more a rhetorical question, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m incredibly frustrated by the fact that I may have been wrong).

I’m not Goofy, but I might be Pluto?

Published September 17, 2014 by Malia

Hello Internets. So, I promise I’ll continue the travelogue on my next post. For now, though, consider it on hiatus due to Satan Pox. What’s Satan Pox you ask? I think I may have mentioned it before, but in case I haven’t, Satan Pox is the name I have bestowed on any really unpleasant illness I get. This current round of Satan Pox is the worst round I’ve had, as of yet. I should be sleeping, I want to be sleeping, but there’s this whole I CAN’T BREATHE through both nostrils thing that has got me in an unpleasant headlock.

Seriously.

I spent last night doing the routine of, “I can’t get comfy in this chair. I need to pee. Since I can’t sleep in the chair, maybe I should try the couch. I can’t sleep on the couch, and now I need to pee. AGAIN. Since the couch isn’t working out, maybe I should try the chair again.”

Lather, rinse, repeat.

ALL. NIGHT. LONG.

It’s been more than a little frustrating.

And for those who are sitting there wondering why I haven’t just gone to the doctor, I’d like to point out that even with insurance going to the doctor still costs money, and I don’t get paid until Friday. So I’m just laying low and taking cough/cold/flu syrup until I go back to work tomorrow.

So, I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I’m more than a little hopped up on Nyquil. True story, earlier today I was talking with mom, and I randomly began quoting Gravity Falls, “Lick that elbow! Lick that elbow! Sometimes I wish I had kittens for hands.” To which mom replied, “I think you might be a little goofy.” And I shot back with, “I’m not Goofy, but I might be Pluto.” I think I proved her point, more than my own.

And since I’m being all delightful and cough syrupy, I want to know if I’m the only girl in the world who is not currently smitten with the photo circulating of Benedict Cumberbatch recreating the Mr. Darcy Pride and Prejudice scene? For some reason, I find the picture kind of creepy. I don’t know why, either. Judging by the things I’ve been reading, apparently I’m kind of alone in this feeling.

The other really annoying thing about Satan Pox is that it is giving me weird memory lags. Example, that last sentence, I forgot what I was typing for the better part of almost 2 minutes. Then there was last night, where I suddenly had this need to go into a different room, and something in my brain was telling me that it was super important that I go into the other room. I got there, stood there for the better part of four minutes trying to figure out why I was in there and why it was so important. I then gave up and returned to my chair. I still don’t know why I was in there. Maybe it was the Silence.

And I now realize that there is not one person reading this who isn’t more than a little confused. Or maybe I’m the one who’s confused.

Bottom line: Don’t get Satan Pox. It’s super annoying and painful.

We Went On An Adventure: Part 1~We Did Actually Leave Nebraska, I Promise

Published September 12, 2014 by Malia

I realized the other day that we’ve been home from our trip for almost two solid weeks, and I’ve yet to write about it. Because it would be a ridiculously long blog entry to write about the entire weekend, I’ve decided to split it into many small entries. Also, some of the pictures I’m including are ones I took with my phone, hence the really super-duper poor quality. The ones I took with my actual camera are just a regular level of bad.

Back at the beginning of August, the boy mentioned to me that since we both had Labor Day weekend off, he thought we should go somewhere. I was in agreement, because I greatly enjoy getting to travel. Turned out, the biggest challenge was deciding which direction to head, but finally we agreed on Colorado.

So, when I got off of work on Friday (8/29), we headed west from Omaha. Around midnight-1 a.m.-ish we rolled into Hastings and once we got to my grandma’s, we crashed for the night.

Saturday, we got up and continued our journey. Our first stop was in North Platte, at a little tourist trap right off the interstate.

See, I’m not kidding!

If you’ve ever driven down I-80, or are from the North Platte area, the Trading Post is a familiar sight.

When I was growing up, every summer we’d come home to Nebraska for a visit, and getting to visit the fort was one of the highlights of the yearly trip. Since I am big into nostalgia, and am also determined that the boy is going to be exposed to all the weird, wonderful things I know of, visiting the trading post was a no-brainer.

It’s a bit hard to describe this place to someone who’s never been there. Basically, it’s a mini-museum with a giant gift shop. There’s a big miniature display of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.

It’s a bit hard to tell (thanks to my “wonderful” camera on my phone), but behind that glass are thousands of carved wooden figures that are all depicting the Wild West show. Plus, it’s all on a motorized system, so every half hour you actually get to see everything move and there’s a bit of narration to explain what you’re seeing. It’s pretty interesting.

Cowboy hats with attached tiaras are just a sampling of the awesomeness available in the store.

Once we had our fill of the Trading Post, we continued our journey west. As we were leaving North Platte, the question arose of which direction we should head to get to Denver. Now, for those who don’t know, there are three main ways to get to Colorado from Nebraska. There’s dropping south into Kansas and heading west. However, that’s a pretty boring drive. The same can be said for option number two. If you go west on I-80 through Nebraska, and go on I-76 into Colorado, about the only scenery you’ll see is construction. Not terribly exciting. We opted for option number 3. Going west to Cheyenne and dropping south from there.

This really is a beautiful drive.

These pictures are what happens when I’m not driving, and my camera has battery life. For those who think that Nebraska is only flat and boring, these pictures serve to prove that thought process wrong. I took these in the panhandle, as we were nearing the Nebraska/Wyoming border. (The traffic cones and windshield bug splat prove we really were on a road trip!)

And now, I come to then end of part 1. Up next…Cheyenne and really craptacular “Mexican” food.

I Didn’t Think They Were THAT Big…

Published September 8, 2014 by Malia

So, after church this past Sunday, I found myself in a conversation with the most adorable, eloquent, 3 year old girl I know. The conversation started simply enough with her telling me about how she had learned about Jesus and monkeys in Sunday school, but then it took an interesting turn. And, of course, I have to share what followed with the entire world, because it is absolutely hilarious…

Clara*: My mom has those big things. Where did you get your big things?

Me (really confused): What big things?

Clara (pointing at my chest): Those big things.

Me (realizing what she’s referring to): Um…Well…those are something grown-up girls get. You’ll have them when you grow up.

(As the words came out of my mouth, I suddenly got worried that I may have said too much, and traumatized her).

Clara: No, I won’t. I’m gonna be a mermaid, and they only have little things.

And then I excused myself because I was cracking up, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to explain to her why I found all of this to be so incredibly funny.

*Her name is changed to protect her and her awesomeness, but anyone who goes to my church can probably guess immediately who I was talking to.

Any Second Now...

This will all make sense?

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