Monday, August 22, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Jade
My dog has this weird obsession with yogurt, specifically raspberry yogurt. And organic. She has good taste. I suppose it's not her fault she enjoys this delicious stuff so much - it's more mine for allowing her to divulge in it to begin with - but it's cute nonetheless.
I realize I haven't mentioned my dog very much since I started this blog. There's a lot of things about my life I have unknowingly left out of my writings. Anyway, I have a dog, and her name is Jade. She's a two-year-old yellow lab. A good family friend of ours has two laborador retrievers, one of whom had puppies during my last semester of grad school at Texas Tech. Though I wasn't sure if I was ready to commit to having an animal of my very own, the desire for animal companionship ultimately won the battle against my logic and common sense. In October of 2009, I brought home my very first puppy of my very own!
I had been pining for a puppy for some time at that point in my life, ever since my childhood dog, Sadie, had passed away in 2007. I have always had a soft spot for animals, and growing up I was the proud owner of 3 dogs, 2 cats, a plethora of fish varietals, and a hamster. Keep in mind that this was spread out over the course of 22 years, not all at once! When Sadie died, I was devastated. It happened during my last semester of school at Texas Tech, where I was obtaining my bachelor's degree. Sadie meant the world to me as a child. She was the dog I had grown up with and had so many fond memories of. She outlived my mother by a full year and half, and when she died it symbolized, in my eyes, the total collapse of my family as I had known it at that point in my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but after the death of a parent, you tend to hold onto whatever little pieces of normalcy you can, and that was one of them. She was my mom's dog, and she reminded me so much of her, that her death brought on a sort relapse of my mother's death. Anyone who has ever loved a pet knows the pain and heartache of losing that pet.
Anyway, my point is that it took me a long time to get to the point where I wanted a pet of my own. I have always loved labs; there is just something about the breed that I really connect with. They are such loving, fun, loyal animals. So it only made sense to stick with what I knew. I picked Jade up one weekend in October during a routine trip to Houston. I had been discussing with said family friend as to which puppy I wanted to take. He suggested I take Jade (who had a different name at the time that I can't remember...) because unlike other labs, particularly her litter-mates, she had a calmer side that balanced out her crazy, hyper side that the breed is known for. That and she had the prettiest green eyes, which is unusual for yellow labs. As it turns out, she is not a true yellow lab, but an albino chocolate lab, which explains her light eyes, red nose and pink skin.
The day I brought her home, she was laying in a little crate placed on the passenger seat of my car, so quiet and sweet-looking. I remember thinking "I am so not ready for this commitment!", but looking back, it was one of the best decisions I ever made. She brings pure joy to my life, and I love her as if she were my child. Trust that there will be more Jade stories to come:)
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Baked. Goods, that is.
A few days ago, I embarked on a journey to bake the Strawberry Lemonade Cupcakes pictured to the left. Not the best picture, but you get the point. I found the recipe on The Cake Blog and decided to give it a try! What's better than strawberries and lemonade? Strawberries and lemonade...in the form of a cake! The recipe was pretty easy to follow, and only required a little more work than the average recipe. But the results...fantastic! Delicious, and true to their name! Now if only I could perfect my icing technique, I'd be golden. This was my first time using the pastry bag set I got for Christmas, so I'm giving myself a little break on looks.
I have always loved to bake, even as a little girl. Some of my fondest childhood memories include baking in the kitchen with my mother. It was our way of bonding, and helps me feel connected to her even to this day. Whenever I turn on my Kitchen Aid, or find a new recipe, it always makes me think of her. She taught me so much, like to remember to take my butter out of the refrigerator when I turn the oven on so it will be room temperature when I'm ready to use it. Room temperature butter mixes much better than cold or melted butter.
Of course, all of this baking has not been helping my waistline. I'm trying to get back in wedding-shape for my upcoming honeymoon to the Cayman Islands (more on that later!), and so far, I haven't been succeeding very well! Exercise has always been easy for me. It's the diet part that I struggle with. My problem is that I LOVE food, all kinds - bad food, good food, healthy food, fatty foods, foreign foods - I love it ALL! And I refuse to go on some kind of obscure diet that doesn't let me eat what I want, when I want it. If I want a slice of pizza, then by golly, I'm going to eat it, or else I will spend days craving it and wishing that I would've eaten it. Life is too short to eat boring food all the time.
Tonight, I took a Pilates class for the first time. I have to say, it was much more intense than I thought it would be. It's not great for calorie-burning, but for toning, I think it will be great. The exercises focus on your core muscles, which is where I need the most help. I have never had strong core muscles, and would like to at some point in my life! So why not now?
I will keep everyone informed of my progress!
Monday, August 8, 2011
August is here. Yay.
I have been pretty unmotivated to write lately. Mostly because nothing new is really going on in my life. In fact, it irritates me now when people ask me "what's new?". I have nothing to say to them. Not their fault, but my exceedingly boring life's fault.
July and August have to be my two least favorite months of the year, particularly August. At least July has Independence Day going for it, which usually means fireworks in any given year other than this year. Stupid drought. So that leaves August hanging in July's shadows. It's hot. Very hot. Always very hot. Without fail. And usually very humid in Houston. Save for this year. Stupid drought. They only two saving graces of August are that my dad and my youngest brother have birthdays during this terrible month. It also used to mean the beginning of a new school year for me, but that hasn't been the case for some time now.
I miss school. I miss constant learning. Wish I could be a student for life (and get paid for it). Future professor, maybe? We shall see.
This job search thing has been bummin' me out big time. I am not one of those fortunate people who find new jobs at the drop of a hat. It has always been hard for me to find new work. Not sure why. Of course the dreamer in me would love nothing more than to say screw the corporate world and start my own business. You know, 'stick it to the man' type stuff. I'm so sick and tired of feeling like I'm held captive by the lure and temptation of a stable corporate job and paycheck. I would love nothing more than to just break free of this hold.
In my heart, I have this overwhelming desire to start a business, but the vision I have is not quite clear as to what that business would be. But it's something I think about every day. I wish I had the cajones to just say to hell with all of my fears, jump in head first, and get things going. But the more practical side of me (the one that tends to dominate my life) says to think twice. So there's basically a power struggle going on between my head and heart. I think I just need more time for the dream to unravel itself.
In the meantime, I will remain frustrated and pursue work that at least pays me well if nothing else.
I watched this show tonight called Picker Sisters on the History Channel. It's basically about these two women, both designers, who travel around the country 'picking' what is seemingly junk, bring it back to their LA studio, and turn it into functional design pieces such as chandeliers and outdoor furniture. How cool is that? I mean that would be such an amazingly fun job! I was so inspired by their work. I know they are just starting out, but I think they will be successful.
It seems people are trending back to wanting more unique, one-of-a-kind pieces of furniture, home decor and the like, which I am thrilled about! Lately, I have been regretting the fact that I stopped pursuing arts and crafts projects when I was younger in pursuit of school classes that were more "stable" and would make me money in the future. It's upsetting how we encourage this type of behavior in our youth instead of encouraging them to pursue the things they enjoy. This is what happened to me, and I soooooo regret it. I mean look where it has gotten me. With two degrees and no stable employment.
Wish I would've listened to my own gut instincts instead of taking everyone else's advice over what I felt was right. Lesson learned.
July and August have to be my two least favorite months of the year, particularly August. At least July has Independence Day going for it, which usually means fireworks in any given year other than this year. Stupid drought. So that leaves August hanging in July's shadows. It's hot. Very hot. Always very hot. Without fail. And usually very humid in Houston. Save for this year. Stupid drought. They only two saving graces of August are that my dad and my youngest brother have birthdays during this terrible month. It also used to mean the beginning of a new school year for me, but that hasn't been the case for some time now.
I miss school. I miss constant learning. Wish I could be a student for life (and get paid for it). Future professor, maybe? We shall see.
This job search thing has been bummin' me out big time. I am not one of those fortunate people who find new jobs at the drop of a hat. It has always been hard for me to find new work. Not sure why. Of course the dreamer in me would love nothing more than to say screw the corporate world and start my own business. You know, 'stick it to the man' type stuff. I'm so sick and tired of feeling like I'm held captive by the lure and temptation of a stable corporate job and paycheck. I would love nothing more than to just break free of this hold.
In my heart, I have this overwhelming desire to start a business, but the vision I have is not quite clear as to what that business would be. But it's something I think about every day. I wish I had the cajones to just say to hell with all of my fears, jump in head first, and get things going. But the more practical side of me (the one that tends to dominate my life) says to think twice. So there's basically a power struggle going on between my head and heart. I think I just need more time for the dream to unravel itself.
In the meantime, I will remain frustrated and pursue work that at least pays me well if nothing else.
I watched this show tonight called Picker Sisters on the History Channel. It's basically about these two women, both designers, who travel around the country 'picking' what is seemingly junk, bring it back to their LA studio, and turn it into functional design pieces such as chandeliers and outdoor furniture. How cool is that? I mean that would be such an amazingly fun job! I was so inspired by their work. I know they are just starting out, but I think they will be successful.
It seems people are trending back to wanting more unique, one-of-a-kind pieces of furniture, home decor and the like, which I am thrilled about! Lately, I have been regretting the fact that I stopped pursuing arts and crafts projects when I was younger in pursuit of school classes that were more "stable" and would make me money in the future. It's upsetting how we encourage this type of behavior in our youth instead of encouraging them to pursue the things they enjoy. This is what happened to me, and I soooooo regret it. I mean look where it has gotten me. With two degrees and no stable employment.
Wish I would've listened to my own gut instincts instead of taking everyone else's advice over what I felt was right. Lesson learned.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
My acne. Otherwise known as The Plague.
Monday = me going to the dermatologist. As much as I have fought going over the past few years, I finally caved about two weeks ago, and waved my white flag of defeat. The acne, unfortunately, has once again won a battle in my life, though I and my drug store friends gave it our best shot. It's been a long time coming, I'm not sure what took me so long. I guess I just hate admitting defeat in any aspect of my life, including my skin problems. So instead of doing the logical thing and going to see a doctor to get back on track, I decided to waste hundreds of dollars on products that don't work in the hopes that something would come through for me. Yeah, that worked out real well.
There are a few factors that determined my decision to re-seek help from the dermatologist, mainly:
1. I'm tired of throwing my money away on products that don't work. If I'm going to throw my money away, it better be on products that actually do something.
2. Let's face it, acne is embarassing. Especially at 26 years old.
2. My job hunt could use all the help it can get. Looking like a broken-out 17-year-old probably isn't going to help me seal the deal on a new position.
So, after a little online research, I opted to go back to the doctor I originally started seeing back in 1998 for my acne woes. I called up the office to make an appointment. Turns out my last appointment was in 2003. At least I still count as a current patient. He was just a young doctor starting out back in the late nineties; since then, he has blossomed into a full-blown practice, with a nurse practitioner and everything. He even has hardwood floors in his office. Business must be going well.
After waiting the standard 15 minutes past my appointment time, I finally go into an examination room where my blood pressure is taken and a quick run through of my medical history is given. The nurse is very friendly (odd amongst nurses I've found) and asks me how long I've had acne, which is difficult to say.
My first experience with blackheads occurred around 6 years old; I remember my mother buying me a special face wash that only I got to use (not my brothers), and it came with a special sponge. I remember my mother looking at the little clogged pores on my nose and making comments about how unusual it was and how they wouldn't go away. Even back then I remember feeling really self conscious about the way my skin looked. If my mom was making a big deal about it, then it must be bad.
By third grade I was an avid user of Stridex pads before bed at night. My mom purchased my first prescription acne medicine at age 11, and by age 13 I'd had my first dermatologist appointment. Let's just say high school was a nightmare. My first appointment with this particular dermatologist was in 1998. I've been seeing this doctor for so long, my original documents from back then had to be scanned in to their current system. So, I am no stranger to acne and the problems it can cause in one's life (aka low self-esteem and poor perception of self).
My acne did clear up for awhile at age 17, when I started taking birth control pills. My mother always told me that it would clear up once I got into my twenties, and I held onto this hope like a cat about to fall out of a tree.
Enter 2011 - I am now 26, and sitting in the dermatologist's office. She runs through the prescriptions I have taken during the course of my time with the dermatologist: Differin, Retin A, Tetracycline. Ah yes, my old friends.
The even better news is that now that I'm 26, insurance companies assume I am either too old to struggle with acne, or that I'm just using retinol products to prevent aging. At 26? Aging products? Are you kidding me? So basically they don't provide as much coverage for these products now as they would've at 16. Just my luck. So my doctor prescribed me an antibiotic and a topical gel that should be low-cost to use for about 6 weeks to see if things clear up. I am remaining cautiously optimistic that this regimin will work, and hoping that I will eventually get back to the point where I won't have to see a dermatologist anymore.
Of course it's entirely possible that my acne could be (and likely be) caused by much deeper rooted, hormonally driven issues that may require me to see a endocrinologist. But that's a different post for a different day. I shall keep everyone updated as to my progress!
There are a few factors that determined my decision to re-seek help from the dermatologist, mainly:
1. I'm tired of throwing my money away on products that don't work. If I'm going to throw my money away, it better be on products that actually do something.
2. Let's face it, acne is embarassing. Especially at 26 years old.
2. My job hunt could use all the help it can get. Looking like a broken-out 17-year-old probably isn't going to help me seal the deal on a new position.
So, after a little online research, I opted to go back to the doctor I originally started seeing back in 1998 for my acne woes. I called up the office to make an appointment. Turns out my last appointment was in 2003. At least I still count as a current patient. He was just a young doctor starting out back in the late nineties; since then, he has blossomed into a full-blown practice, with a nurse practitioner and everything. He even has hardwood floors in his office. Business must be going well.
After waiting the standard 15 minutes past my appointment time, I finally go into an examination room where my blood pressure is taken and a quick run through of my medical history is given. The nurse is very friendly (odd amongst nurses I've found) and asks me how long I've had acne, which is difficult to say.
My first experience with blackheads occurred around 6 years old; I remember my mother buying me a special face wash that only I got to use (not my brothers), and it came with a special sponge. I remember my mother looking at the little clogged pores on my nose and making comments about how unusual it was and how they wouldn't go away. Even back then I remember feeling really self conscious about the way my skin looked. If my mom was making a big deal about it, then it must be bad.
By third grade I was an avid user of Stridex pads before bed at night. My mom purchased my first prescription acne medicine at age 11, and by age 13 I'd had my first dermatologist appointment. Let's just say high school was a nightmare. My first appointment with this particular dermatologist was in 1998. I've been seeing this doctor for so long, my original documents from back then had to be scanned in to their current system. So, I am no stranger to acne and the problems it can cause in one's life (aka low self-esteem and poor perception of self).
My acne did clear up for awhile at age 17, when I started taking birth control pills. My mother always told me that it would clear up once I got into my twenties, and I held onto this hope like a cat about to fall out of a tree.
Enter 2011 - I am now 26, and sitting in the dermatologist's office. She runs through the prescriptions I have taken during the course of my time with the dermatologist: Differin, Retin A, Tetracycline. Ah yes, my old friends.
The even better news is that now that I'm 26, insurance companies assume I am either too old to struggle with acne, or that I'm just using retinol products to prevent aging. At 26? Aging products? Are you kidding me? So basically they don't provide as much coverage for these products now as they would've at 16. Just my luck. So my doctor prescribed me an antibiotic and a topical gel that should be low-cost to use for about 6 weeks to see if things clear up. I am remaining cautiously optimistic that this regimin will work, and hoping that I will eventually get back to the point where I won't have to see a dermatologist anymore.
Of course it's entirely possible that my acne could be (and likely be) caused by much deeper rooted, hormonally driven issues that may require me to see a endocrinologist. But that's a different post for a different day. I shall keep everyone updated as to my progress!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Night Owl for life. Or at least until I get a new job/have kids.
I'm a bonafide night owl. It's an addiction. I love staying up late for absolutely no reason. I'm just sitting here, typing this blog, thinking about how I have to be at church at 10:00 in the morning. And it's now 1:00 AM. I know I will be tired tomorrow. I know I will sleep in later than I want to. Yet that's not enough to make me actually go upstairs and go to bed. It's a cycle that I can't seem to break. Probably because to I don't want to break it. Not bad enough, anyway.
What's really funny, is that I only really like staying up late when I am in the comfort of my own home. Or occasionally at the residence of close friends or family. When I'm out though, I hit a certain breaking point, usually between midnight and 1:00 am, where all I can think about is how tired I am and I want to go home. And then the second I walk through my door, it's like I'm wide awake and want to stay up! I don't get it.
This behavior frustrates Sam, who is pretty much the opposite of me. He typically does not like to stay up late, particularly when we are doing nothing at home. He is the quintessential early bird; he loves nothing more than to start his day early so he can get things done, and then come home and be in bed around 10:00, at the latest. However, when we're out somewhere, all he wants to do is stay out late, even if what we're doing is incredibly boring.
This has caused a few quarrels between us. Nothing serious, but he thinks I'm a party-pooper (I do tend to rain on his parade on occasion) and complains when I won't go to bed when he does. It's not that I don't like to go to bed early - if I'm tired, I certainly will - it's that I'm usually not tired until late, and I hate tossing and turning in bed when I can't sleep. So I stay up instead. And type blogs. And surf facebook. And read news. And watch TV. And job search. And occasionally do something productive, like write Thank You notes. Which, by the way, I finally finished for our couple's shower in March.
*Yawns*
Well, I'm getting tired now, so I think I'll go to bed! Goodnight, all!
What's really funny, is that I only really like staying up late when I am in the comfort of my own home. Or occasionally at the residence of close friends or family. When I'm out though, I hit a certain breaking point, usually between midnight and 1:00 am, where all I can think about is how tired I am and I want to go home. And then the second I walk through my door, it's like I'm wide awake and want to stay up! I don't get it.
This behavior frustrates Sam, who is pretty much the opposite of me. He typically does not like to stay up late, particularly when we are doing nothing at home. He is the quintessential early bird; he loves nothing more than to start his day early so he can get things done, and then come home and be in bed around 10:00, at the latest. However, when we're out somewhere, all he wants to do is stay out late, even if what we're doing is incredibly boring.
This has caused a few quarrels between us. Nothing serious, but he thinks I'm a party-pooper (I do tend to rain on his parade on occasion) and complains when I won't go to bed when he does. It's not that I don't like to go to bed early - if I'm tired, I certainly will - it's that I'm usually not tired until late, and I hate tossing and turning in bed when I can't sleep. So I stay up instead. And type blogs. And surf facebook. And read news. And watch TV. And job search. And occasionally do something productive, like write Thank You notes. Which, by the way, I finally finished for our couple's shower in March.
*Yawns*
Well, I'm getting tired now, so I think I'll go to bed! Goodnight, all!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
I'm ill. No really, I'm sick!
So I've been sick for the past week with some unknown illness that I can't seem to shake. It started off with extreme exhaustion and a sore throat on Monday, and has since then progressed to excessive sleepiness/overall weakness, to a brief and (pump fake) recovery on Wednesday and Thursday, to a congested head cold/possible upper respiratory infection through the weekend. I woke up from a nap this afternoon and my ears were throbbing they hurt so bad! I'm hoping this is the last final punch before this cold finally leaves me alone.
I've been doping up on 1,000 mg vitamin C pills and Walgreens Severe Cold Medicine to try and fight through this on my own. I really don't believe in going to the doctor unless it's absolutely necessary, in order to prevent my body from becoming resistant to antibiotics. I believe that trying to fight through certain illnesses can help your body grow stronger. Of course, I'm no doctor so I have no proof of this, but I'd like to believe it's true. We live in an over-medicated society, so I try to use medicine only when necessary.
I'm hoping I feel better tomorrow so I can start working out again!
I've been doping up on 1,000 mg vitamin C pills and Walgreens Severe Cold Medicine to try and fight through this on my own. I really don't believe in going to the doctor unless it's absolutely necessary, in order to prevent my body from becoming resistant to antibiotics. I believe that trying to fight through certain illnesses can help your body grow stronger. Of course, I'm no doctor so I have no proof of this, but I'd like to believe it's true. We live in an over-medicated society, so I try to use medicine only when necessary.
I'm hoping I feel better tomorrow so I can start working out again!
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