Canadians are… different

My dear friend Adrienne sent me this link, and it totally made my morning!

Things are different up there, that's for sure.

I heart you Canada

Footprints on my heart

I think it is a universal understanding that good friends are hard to come by. In this great big world of 7 billion people, finding individuals who truly accept you for you, warts and all, is tricky. People want you to fit into their preconceived mold; they want to define you, shape you, control you, and turn you into their version of who they think you should be.

It's shitty, but true.

Growing up, I had several friends through elementary school and high school who were like that. I was told who to be, what to think, how to act, what I did or did not like, and sadly I accepted that for myself.

Until one day I didn't.

Needless to say, I have sufficiently lost contact with all of those "friends".

Now that I am approaching my 30s, it has become increasingly clear to me that it's not the quantity of friends you have, it's the quality.

In keeping with that, I really only have three true friends in my life. Yes, I have many more people that I would call my friends, several of whom I know I could call for help in a crisis or whatever.

But only three of them are people that I feel truly "get" me. People I could call sobbing at 3am, and they would drop everything to be there for me. And I for them.

The first is my sister. Growing up, we hated each other. Like, truly despised each other's existence. I was the irritated older sister, she was the spoiled younger sister. We fought. We threw things at each other. We called each other the meanest names we could think of. She bit me. I kicked her. Once she even pulled a knife on me!

(It was a butter knife, and she was about 4 or 5, but still)

(I still give her shit for it)

It wasn't until she was about 15 or so that we started to actually enjoy each other's company. After she graduated high school, she lived with The Husband and I off and on for almost two years, and while that was difficult in some ways, it was also a lot of fun and brought us closer together. She has been there for me through some tough stuff, and I for her, and I love her dearly and miss her a ton now that we've moved.

I don't think I truly appreciated how much I enjoyed getting to spend time with her or talk to her regularly, and now that we're 1200 miles away, I get sad thinking about it. I'm getting a little ferklemped right now actually, so moving on!

The second friend is my dear friend Age. She and I have been friends for 25 years.

Yeah. Saying that makes me feel reaaaallly old...

But we were barely 5 when we met, so the math isn't as devastating as it sounds.

Age was my first (and really only) best friend. She was my other half! We did everything together growing up. Sledding and camping and every single birthday and eight million sleepovers. We would play dress up until the wee hours of the morning, and then her parents would make the best pancakes in the world- still unrivaled by any other pancakes, ever.

Like, seriously, don't even try. Kotyk Pancakes for the win.

She had the cool video game systems that my family couldn't afford, and I developed my love of Super Mario and Donkey Kong at her house. We had a pet nail (one of those industrial sized rail road nails?) (yeah... I don't know... overactive imaginations?) attached to a meltwater runoff pipe on the walk home from the bus stop, and we named her Nailey and dressed her up in grasses and leaves and whatnot. We made snow forts and climbed trees and picked cherries and spent more time on the banks of the Columbia River than I can even remember (though I distinctly remember the intense terror I felt every time we went down there, because of the insane amounts of poison ivy plants and my irrational fear of touching said poison ivy) (which I still have today...) I practically lived at her house, and her parents still consider me one of their daughters.

We certainly had our ups and downs. She was the domineering one (as the youngest of three girls, I think she was exerting her power any way she could) and I was a total pushover. We fought like cats and dogs, but never stayed away too long (even when we probably should have). In about the 6th grade, we had a temporary friendship divorce, but I think it only lasted maybe a month or so? After that we pretty much stopped fighting (unless she was hanging out with one of the Amandas. The Amandas were never nice to me. Bitches) and our lifelong friendship was cemented.

I moved away at the end of 8th grade, and against all odds and expectations (and several hundred miles), we stayed in touch and stayed friends. While we don't see each other as often as we'd like, we still make it work. She is a part of me. She has known me the longest, put up with me and my idiosyncrasies, and accepts me fully (as I do her). Because of her (and her family) I had a happier childhood than I otherwise would have. We have literally and figuratively grown up together. I know that she will always be in my heart and in my life, and I love her and miss her dearly.

(Happy Birthday tomorrow!!!)

The third friend is my soul-sista Kym. I swear, meeting her was like meeting my (blonde, much shorter, much larger-breasted) alter ego. Our husbands find it a little scary how alike we are. She and I clicked instantly, which almost never happens for me. I always feel like I have to put on a facade with people, especially when I first meet them. But with Kym, I was instantly comfortable with her. I can totally be myself around her, and nothing phases her. While we've only known each other a short while, I feel like I've known her forever. We've supported each other through life's bullshit, we've laughed, we've cried, our kids are best friends, even our husbands get along great.

Leaving Kym was one of the hardest parts of moving to Wyoming (besides my family, of course). She was the first person I'd met, in the town I'd lived in for over 6 years, with whom I actually genuinely clicked. Our families instantly bonded, and I could easily see us all growing old together, sitting on our back deck, drinking beers and commiserating about what crazy thing our kids did, or the uber-mom up the street and the bitchy thing she said this time, or the craziness of extended family.

I miss them terribly, my kids miss their kids, and when I get particularly lonely or stressed out down here, I wish I could just walk up the street to Kym's, plop on her couch, play with Baby-Baby, and chit-chat for hours.

Greetings from the other side... of the Rockies

Hey hey! I'm back from the abyss.

And by abyss, I mean the internet-less world of moving.

Man has it been crazy lately. Like, mind-bogglingly so. I find it hard to believe that we left Washington only a week and a half ago, it feels like longer (and shorter all at the same time).

So here I am, in a new state, in a new time zone, in a sort of temporary limbo whilst I await our house being built.

The OCD organizational side of me? Not loving it.

The hippie, gypsy, free-spirited side of me? Going with the flow, man.

Cause really? That's all I can do right now.

I'm a little bitter, because the apartment we're renting until our house is done doesn't allow satellite dishes to be put up, so we had to suspend our DIRECTV service for a few months and go with Comcast.

And to be clear: I. Hate. Comcast.

Why, you ask? Because they suck. Exhibit A? The fact that our DVR doesn't work. At all. I can't record anything. I can't pause, rewind, etc. I can't enter in any favorites. Nothing. I get an error message saying that the DVR function is disabled and to call customer service.

And when we called to figure out what was going on, the stupid customer service rep said it was just because we weren't pressing the buttons on the remote hard enough.

Let me repeat.

Our DVR isn't functional, everything we try to do is met with an error message, and we were told it was because we weren't pressing buttons hard enough.

Special kind of stupid, I tell ya.

So after several more phone calls, we finally have a tech coming out on Thursday. I guess my reality TV escapism will have to wait...

Otherwise known as the Real Housewives of somewhere or other

Post-visit blues

Not gonna lie, I'm bumming pretty hard right now.

My friend left to go home first thing this morning, and it always saddens me when our visits are over because they are usually so short. We grew up three houses down from each other, and now we only get to see each other a couple times a year at the most. It sucks a little bit.

Confession: after she left I may have crawled back in bed a little teary-eyed.

But!

Since she lives about four hours away now, and this is the closest we've lived to each other in, oh, 15 years, we plan to take full advantage of it. We were discussing trading off visits- she comes down one month, I go up there the next month- in order to see each other more frequently.

She's one of my most favorite-est people ever, and I miss her greatly, and it would be lovely to be more regularly involved in each other's lives.

Plus, I love Victoria, it's such a pretty city!

Right? Right?!?

So now life goes back to normal. I have a quiz to write for my Race and Ethnicity class that I've been putting off all week. I have laundry to do. And I have a bunch of TV shows to get caught up on since I've turned the TV on maybe twice this week total.

But first the quiz. Always the quiz.

Inking it up

So we are two days into having Age visit (she's sitting on the other end of the couch right now watching The Client List on her laptop) and so far I've been having fun visiting with her. (Hopefully she is too!)

Yesterday morning I had my GI appointment (that'll be a whole other post). Afterwards, we headed back to my town and roamed around the historical district for awhile, popping into kitschy antique stores and vintage clothing consignments and artsy fartsy co-op shops. There were a few vintage '60s dresses that I was madly in love with, but sadly they were either too big or too expensive, so I had to walk away. I'm obsessed with the style of the '60s and '70s, so I tend to gravitate towards those very distinct styles of clothes. I did come away with a cute flippy hippie skirt and a puffy outdoorsy vest, so that was a score, even if they're not even remotely the decades I was searching for.

Found something similar to this, only in
a mint tweed. Sah cyute!

Afterwards we headed to this cute little cafe that specializes in healthy, all natural, organic, locally sourced food. I love eating there, it makes me happy. They have a great salad bar, yummy homemade soups, and a delicious assortment of sandwiches and smoothies and juice blends. It was gooooood!

Then we headed home so I could get a bit of school work done before heading out again to go to my tattoo appointment.

I got three butterflies on my upper back- one customized for each of my kids. They're really pretty, and later on I'm going to get the background filled in around them, but for now I'm okay leaving them as is, because quite frankly, it hurt like a bitch! This one hurt way worse than my forearm, which surprised me a bit. But I was a big girl and got through it. I couldn't wimp out when Age was with me! I also got my forearm touched up, since there were a few spots that were a little uneven.

My sister went after me, and got her first tattoo- an interpretation of this little green monster drawing my son made when he was probably 6 or so. It's super cute and turned out really well. She's going to add on two other monsters for the other two kids once she has the inspiration for them.

Today, I need to refocus and get more school work done, and I also have to go get supplies for my daughter's birthday party this weekend.

There's no rest for the wicked. Even if their backs hurt from getting fresh ink!

Housewifery, Canadians, and tattoos

So my To Do list for this weekend keeps growing. And growing.

The weather is crappy, so no yard or garden work will be getting done, but that's okay, because my inside chores are enough to keep me plenty busy.

First, my bestest friend in the whole wide world, Adrienne, is coming to visit on Tuesday, so I need to get my house absolutely spotless. Not that I need to impress her. I mean, we've been friends since we were almost five, so I'm pretty sure she won't judge me if my house isn't in museum shape. But still, my OCD requires that my house be as perfect as possible for guests. (Then again, I try to keep my house spiffy anyway for my own sanity, so I guess nothing's really new!) (A tidy house equals a tidy brain)

This is the first time Age will be visiting our new house. Well, I guess it's not that new, we've been here for over a year and a half, but she was living all the way across the continent until just recently, so her last visit was almost three years ago. I'm excited to get to spend some time with her. I feel like she makes me sane. While we have plenty of friends around here, she's the only one that I feel totally myself with. She's known me almost my whole life, and it's rare to have people in your life for that long. She's a peach!

Age is going to be here for the better part of the week, and while it sucks that the kids and I have school and The Husband has work, we'll still rock it! On Wednesday my sister and I have appointments to get tattoos, and Age is pretty much an expert in that field (*cough* cough* getthegypsytattooyouknowyouwantto *cough *cough*) so she's coming along for moral support. And I'm trying not-so-subtly (see above) to convince her to get one she's been thinking about for quite a while. She has her whole back and both sides done, but hey, there's always room for more!

This will be my second tattoo, and my sister's first, so we're both very excited about it. I'm a little nervous since I'm getting mine down my spine, and the pain factor is... unknown and intimidating. But I'm a big girl and didn't even flinch during my first one, so hopefully I won't be the sissy whimpering in the corner...

Besides that, Age will also be here for my daughter's birthday party next weekend, which is super awesome! She can help me plan and cook and decorate! Yay for free help friends!

I don't know what else we will end up doing this week, I think we'll just wing it. One of the nights we want to take her to our favorite restaurant, assuming we can get a sitter. Beyond that? Who knows!

Coinciding with Age's visit, spring quarter starts on Monday. However, the portal opened yesterday, so I'm going to try and get as much of the first week's homework done as quickly as possible. That way, I won't have much to do that will be interfering with actual, you know, fun stuff. Of course, this means that I need to get a move on, like, now.

Couch to 5k

So I have this friend, Age. She's been my best friend since I was four (minus a brief spell where she chose to be friends with my arch-nemesis Amanda Dilling and the two would gang up on me and steal my shoes whenever I'd come over to play).

Inoright?!? Total douche move.

But we were, like, 11 or so? And all girls are douches at that age.

(Hence why I fear for when my daughter gets older...)

But I digress...

So this friend is kind of the ultimate badass. She's in denial about it, but it's totally true.

She has this platinum-blonde pixie cut (a look I could NEVER pull off), oodles of tattoos, an amazing personality, and drinks fancy-schmancy beer that no one has ever heard of but you feel cooler just because she's heard of it.

She's one of those people.

You know, people who are cool without obviously trying to be so.

People I simultaneously hate and want to be.

So anyway, this friend is also a huge health and fitness fanatic. I mean, it's literally her job, so it's probably good she subscribes to her own advice.

Her. The fitness queen.

She is the only person I know who has rock-hard abs. And I'm pretty sure her leg muscles could cripple me. She is in amazing shape, and she makes it look like it's nothing. (And she isn't one of those scary, overly-muscly, 'roided-out-looking chicks, either. She could break you in half and still look girlie doing it.)

She's also the classic over-acheiver, but again, without really trying.

Like, she works full time, is getting her Master's Degree, and oh yeah, I just totally went for a 30 km bike ride this morning before work, no biggie!

No, really, she does stuff like that. I swear she gets more done before I even get out of bed, than I even do in a day. It's ridiculous. I generally feel like a loser compared to her. Anyone should.

So this friend's one apparent weakness (and I mean, apparent only to her) is running. I guess she feels like it isn't her forte or something, which I don't understand, but whatevs.

So like anything else in her life, she sees a challenge, she overcomes it.

Well, not really overcomes it, more like kicks its sorry ass from here to next Tuesday.

So she is doing this Couch-to-5k training thing. And she wants me to do it with her. And I would love to, because mama needs to get in better shape. I don't really need to lose weight, per se, but I could certainly stand to tone up a bit, especially after three kids. I'd love to be a bad-ass before I turn 30.

But here's the thing.

I am the world's biggest procrastinator. Like, if it were an Olympic sport, I'd be the undefeated, world-record-holding, most medaled champion ever.

Me. The little turtle that could.

So clearly I'm having some troubles getting started. Right now I'm sick, so running isn't going to happen quite yet. Heck, walking is somewhat of a struggle right now. But once I'm better, I'd like to think that I'd start with the training. Because, really, it isn't even that hard of training, and I know that I am in better shape than I give myself credit for (not as good as my friend, but who is?!?).

But let's be realistic. I'm a slacker.

Well, maybe not a slacker, because I have three kids, am a full-time student, and still manage to run a tight ship and keep things somewhat orderly. But in my off time? Total slacker! (remember the Teen Mom 2 marathon...)

So I'll do my best, Age, but you'll need to kick my ass a little lot. Because only one of us can be the self-motivated awesome sauce. Me? I fill the role of the jaunty sidekick.