I'm trying to love my body.  Scratch that, I'm trying to like my body. I'm not ashamed to let the world know how much I weigh.  I don't think it's acceptable, even though I've been told by numerous people that I 'carry it well'. I know some people are going to laugh at this number, but for my 5'4" frame, it's not acceptable.  Especially when I'm only 23 and have to run the Warrior Dash in less than a month.  The number? It's 158.5 pounds.
 The boyfriend and I recently got gym memberships, and by recently, I mean three days ago.  I've taken a huge interest into what is going into my body.  Instead of playing the Monopoly game at McDonalds (which I got addicted to...all I ended up with was enough Coke points to 'buy' a years' worth subscription to Cosmo and 40 free Snapfish Photos) every day, I'm now kind of on the Special K Challenge and work my buns out.  Today was an 'off' day, because I'm sore.  Tomorrow will be another 'on' day, after work.  Which is at 8 am tomorrow morning, and I've been closing all week so that will have a nice jet-lag effect.  Anywho.  I eat a bowl of Special K in the morning, Snack (usually the crisps) and then a protein shake, then another snack (the healthy bars) then a regular healthy dinner.  Tonight was baked chicken in cream of mushroom soup with green beans and only one semi-healthy roll.  I got to 1150 calories (I'm trying to stick to a 1200 calorie diet).  Not bad, I say.

The only problem with this Special K dealio is that it's just so darn expensive!  I know there are other alternatives, but geez louise they're yummy!  I also know that I need to just eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full then work out like normal.  I'm hoping that in five weeks I will have dropped ten pounds if I keep on the way I'm going.  That's about fifteen dollars a week, though.  Yikesabee.  Why is being healthy so expensive?  Granted, I could switch over to Apples and Oranges, Bananas, etc. ....but what fun would that be? I mean, isn't that the 'old fashioned' way of losing weight?? Who does that anymore?! Me.
That's right,
After I run out of this special K stuff, though.  It's so darn yummy right now!!


One Year

I've been here in Austin for a year now.  One whole year. A lot can change in a year, and when you look back and realize where you were, how you got here, and how far you've come (let alone OVERcome), you finally actually realize and put into perspective that stupid saying.  One year ago I was scared, nervous, excited, anxious, and just so jaded.  Now I'm confident, still excited, happy, and I feel like I'm achieving something. 

Let's see.  Here's my year in a nutshell.
Move to Austin
Start work
go out with Aunt Nette (every chance I got)
social butterfly much? Hello.
Halloween, so close to going downtown.
Amanda came down for Thanksgiving
(by the way, I'm making friends, too...)
Met Steve
THANKSGIVING! Amanda and I had a blast
(she made out with an Australian).
My confidence came back somewhere in between meeting Steve and Thanksgiving.
Christmas Parties :)
Started Texting Steve (like...everyday)
Christmas Eve--best one I ever had (hello to a whole pan of Rice Crispy Treats and It's a Wonderful Life on the couch with Aunt Nette)
Christmas Day
Texting Steve (like I said, every day).
Lunch with Steve
New Years Eve (I made him come over around 10 when I found out he was spending it alone)
First Kiss :)
Snow in Texas!!
Exclusive with that boy!
Official with that boy!
Valentines Day
Somehow my confidence came back tenfold
Now it's March?
Huge fight with Aunt Nette
Back in School
getting sick of my job...
Baseball season!
Best Birthday Ever :)
Move in with Steve.
Getting fat and happy.
Get an Internship with Bobby Bones Show
Football season!
Quit internship (credits wouldn't line up)
Back in School!
And here we are :)

*whew* I'm freaking exhausted.  Like I said, a lot can happen in a year.  I'm as fat and happy as ever (yea...trying to get rid of the 'fat' part).  I'm ready for the next year :) Bring it on!



I've always believed in the phrase Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend. My diamond, however, isn't your typical shiny thing. Mine is covered in dirt, has nine players on it, a roaring crowd around it and smells like hot dogs, peanuts and cracker jacks. My diamond is a baseball diamond. The AL Division Championships happened last night. This is the first season in a while that the Detroit Tigers have made it to the postseason. Yes, there is only One October...and we made it this year! Watching Valverde (Papa Grande) strike out Alex Rodriguez (A-Rod) leading the Tigers to Victory (3-2) against the Yankees AT Yankee Stadium was one of the best sights ever. Now the Tigers go on to play for the AL Championship against the Rangers. I like the Rangers, but they have nothing on my D-town Tigers. Detroit needs a miracle, big time. The Lions are helping in this miracle, going on a 4-0 winning streak. The likes of which Detroit hasn't seen since...oh I don't even know when. Not in my lifetime (that I can remember).
Baseball. America's past time. My favorite Diamond. That's love.
Don't get me wrong, my birthday is in April, and April's birthstone is the diamond. My birthstone is THE Stone. I don't want a diamond until I get THE ring. Until then, I'll take my peanut smelling, dirty, messy diamond.


We don't need no water....

For the past week, there have been massive fires surrounding Austin.  I've never seen with my own eyes the level of devestation this blaze has left in it's path.  Unfortunately, the drought and heat left Central Texas in perfect condition for a wildfire.  Which totally happened.  At one point, Austin was completely surrounded.  The biggest blaze was in Bastrop and for days (three, to be exact) the fire was 0% contained.  Which is a stupid phrase, if you ask me, but as I learned more about wildfires, it made sense.  There were 200+ firefighters fighting this Bastrop fire, not to mention how many were up in Steiner Ranch (which lost 25 houses and 360 acres), Pflugerville and Cedar Park.  The Bastrop fire is now 50% contained, with over 34,000 acres destroyed and over 1,000 homes gone as well.  The fires broke out over Labor Day weekend.  I didn't know about them until Tuesday when I went to my internship (YES! I got an internship!!With The Bobby Bones Show.  Syndicated in four states, and holy crap this will look good on a resume! That's another story, though). 

Tuesday morning I was in the studio with the Hosts (Bobby, Carlos, Lunchbox, Amy and Alayna).  They sent three interns out to the WalMart by the studio to collect water and Gatorate for the firefighters.  They had taken three truckloads to a food bank already, and by the time the show ended and the rest of the interns showed up, there had to be at least 1,000 cases of water and gatorade.  We filled up a truck-bed and eight cars with the fluid.  We made a caravan on the way to unload all of it.  Every single one of us helped, trying to show our support for those trying to put out the uncontrollable fire.  I mean, It's almost a week later and it's ONLY 50% contained.  The fire has spread out to Lockhart, which is 30 miles from where the blaze originally started.  We filled up seven pallets five feet high with water and Gatorade donations.  I mean, it's a ton of stuff.

I was allowed to go out to Bastrop on Friday and Saturday to staff the Bastrop Home Depot.  That was a humbling experience, let me tell you.  I wanted to hug every single person, cry with them, take them home and give them a hot meal.  The Red Cross came out on Friday to put together clean-up buckets (some people were being let back into their neighborhoods, but not many).  All together we gave out over 1,000 buckets, and we hand-made sifters as well.  Some people came through absolutely in tears, others were so jovial still, saying that it was just stuff.  Others apologized for their messy cars as I loaded them up, saying, 'We've been living out of it...and this is our home right now'.  There were others that came through the line with nothing.  I loaded up one car with his bucket, sifter, shovel and rake, put it in the trunk.  He had about six picture frames in the back, and I asked if he wanted me to put them in the bucket so they wouldn't break.  He said Yes, and Thank You, that was all he could save from his house before it went up in flames, and he cherished those six pictures.  So many people had stories just like that.  Others were so happy, saying we were doing a great thing and they were so grateful that we were doing this for them.  They said that this meant a lot that we were willing to help out.  Then there were those people who had worked their whole lives for that house, and they lost it all, but were in such good graces becase, 'it's just stuff, it doesn't matter, we can always get more stuff.  We're okay, our kids are okay, and that's all that matters'.  This is farmland, too.  So many people had pastures and horses.   Most of the animals got out okay, and they're still finding others. 

One man sticks out in my memory completely.  He pulled up in his Chevy and on his shirt it said 'Mackinac Island' with a picture of a carriage on it.  I handed him the bucket and said, 'Woohoo! Mackinac Island! I'm from there! Well, Michigan...not the island.'  He smiled and said, 'Well, this is a donated shirt, so...' and he drifted off.  My heart absolutely sunk, realizing that he had nothing, and told him the shirt looked really good on him.   My job was keeping moral up, not bringing people down.  As much as I felt bad and was shocked at my surroundings, I didn't let it show.  Not until a woman came up to me and when I asked if she needed help finding anything, she started crying and said, 'everything'. 
She was pulling into the Home Depot parking lot and saw two firetrucks racing down her daughters road.  Little fires keep popping up here and there, and she was scared that for her daughter.  I gave her a hug.  It was instinctive, and we sat there talking.  She has seven kids, and their house was one of the first to go up in flames.  They know they have no home to go back to, and she was very angry.  Her mom and sister were evacuated, and they were complaining about it.  She has nothing, and hasn't complained once.  I couldn't even imagine.  That's what people need, though.  Some to tell their stories, others to have a joke told to them.  They need support.  I'm a one woman support team.  I talked to her and her children (once they came in) for about an hour.  We picked out new house layouts, and she started looking at the upsides and stopped worrying about her daughter (the fire was put out really quick, and everything was alright).  When she left she gave me another hug and told me I was just a doll.  She thanked me for everything, when really she had nothing to thank me for at all.  I was just an ear.

It's amazing to see the whole community coming together. People up north in Austin (which is 30 minutes away from Bastrop) are housing complete strangers' animals.  The Animal Shelter is holding animals until owners can come and get them.  We had one man call the Radio Station on Tuesday and offer his ranch in N. Austin.  Gave his phone number and address saying 'to call if you need animals housed'.  He called back within 45 minutes saying he was full and couldn't take anymore...he lived on 2,500 acres.  Donation centers are filled to the brim and can't hold any more stuff.  Home Depot has been amazing at donating materials, and people have been so grateful.  It's amazing to see that just giving them a shovel and a pair of gloves (which is the minimum when we ran out of supplies) brightened their day.  It's September 11th today, and although what happened 10 years ago is still fresh and stings, we need to take care of what is happening in our own backyard right now.  FEMA is came in on Tuesday, and people are starting to regroup and get back on their feet.  The fire isn't even completely out yet, only 50% contained, and they're still trying to make the most of it.  So here's to them, they're troopers, and I have a lot of respect for them, because they lost everything, yet those people are still happy and making the best of everything.  I hope I can be like that if anything disasterous ever happens to me.  They're an inspiration.


I love you...

This is exactly how I feel about him. It's not changing, it's not going away, and this is how I know I'm 100% head over heels madly in love.  Even though I'm frustrated with him, I wouldn't change anything.  I wouldn't change our rental that needs major improvements that I want to buy, I wouldn't change working on my car with him at 11:00 at night, I wouldn't change waking up at 6:30 to his alarm every morning (yes, even weekends).  I wouldn't change the dirty kitchen or his moods.  I wouldn't change him.  I won't change him.
I just have to be aware, be concious, of how I affect him.  I have to realize he's trying to protect me, and I have to appreciate, respect, and be thankful for that.  With realizing that, he needs to realize that I'm trying to make him comfortable and realize that I'm doing all I can. 
We just both need to realize.


My last post I talked about time-outs.  It seems that doing so is necessary again.  Not talking about them, but actually doing it.  Boyfriend is in a funk, one that is seemingly caused by me.  I'm a fixer, I want to fix this said funk, but I can't.  Only he can.  He has to get over his issues and I need to understand why these issues are here.  It all seemed to have started because of this badass internship I have.  I've only been there three days, and it seems he and I have 'had words' about it more times than I can count.
His view: I'm acting younger.  I'm excited about it and acting like a 13 year old girl.  I'm naive and going to put myself into a situation I shouldn't be in, and because I'm being naive I won't realize it.

These were (except for the putting myself into a situation) all things my ex boyfriend had said, as well.  Except he also threw in that I was immature because I liked bright colors (I mean...what?!).  I'm 23 now, and I'm looking at it from his point of view.  I'm not as naive as he thinks I am, but I don't know how to prove that to him.  He's happy, but not acting like his normal self which is freaking me out.  There isn't anything wrong with that, but I feel like a lost little puppy. 

This is how I know we need another time-out.  However, I'm not going to listen to myself.  'Oh, what was that, Kristen??  You feel like you two need to do an activity together so you can prove to him that you're not going anywhere and he needn't worry?  Yea--that's a great idea.  It's only going to bum you out that he doesn't want to hold your hand or kiss you or put his arm around you.  Sounds like a banner idea--let's do it!' I can just see the fail happening now.  I've been more emotional and shown more weakness around him in the past two weeks than I ever have, and the only other time I was this frustrated with him where I felt like I just needed to go away was during Rot Rally.  I actually thought about leaving last night and going for a run or somethign to just get away-but that's what immature people do.  They run away.  I stayed.  I fought.  We compromised. 

Yet I still need a time-out.


Time Out

I have been up since 3:30 this morning, with the exception of a two hour nap which some would say doesn't count-but I say it does.  I woke up even more groggy and out of it than I did after getting two hours of sleep and walking into my first day as an Intern at an accredited morning radio show with Clear Channel Studios. 

I need me time.  I'm never really alone anymore, and for the past two days I've been swimming in a sea of estrogen from 5 am to 11 am, which isn't bad- but there are 15 chicks that I'm interning with (all hired by a girl), and then I come home to the boyfriend.  Which is wonderful, we've just both....been in a funk lately.  Over said internship.  Boyfriend thinks something is going to happen and I'm going to change because of this internship.  I've already made myself the intern outcast because I don't want to offend/worry him.  This show has a history of a certain sleazy producer hitting on every single girl and trying to get in her pants.  Seeing as how this said sleazy producer and I hail from the same State, and he lived out by where I went to college (NOT Texas, Give it up for the 517!!) and we're only a couple years apart, Boyfriend has it in his head that this sleazy producer wants in mis pantelones.  This means we're arguing a whole lot more lately.  Which means I'm frustrated, and wanting alone time that I'm not getting because of my hectic schedule.

He should look at the intern who looks like a certain villanious girl from Twilight who is trying the whole, 'Producer is such a sleazeball but I'm totally flirting with him in the I'm-going-to-insult-you-every-which-way-I-can hoping you all don't notice how much I want in his pants' way. 

It's disgusting.

Anyways, this all leads to how I need my me time.  I'm always around someone, and never by myself.  Which makes me work 15 hour days (internship THEN work), and me-timeless.  It's exhausting to say the least.  Oh how I hate you Starbucks for not being open at 4:30 in the morning when I leave my house. 

If I don't get some alone time that doesn't consist of me typing in the dark at 11:42 at night in my bed with the dogs at my feet and Boyfriend sleeping next to me, I just might go a wee bit insane.  Lord knows I started teh downward spiral tonight.


Team-Building Exercise

This is my carpenter boyfriend. Who doesn't let me paint, hang pictures, or do anything, because I will do it to just a centimeter off.  Which is great, except it took us four days to hang the new mirrors in our room.  Even when he had time this morning to do them, I had to hound him to do it. Finally later today, we did it 'together'.  Which means I stood there and supervised, even when he was the one who suggested we do it together anyway, because it would be a good 'team building' exercise. 

How about this?
 No, something is off.
What do you mean something is off? What is off?
I don't know, Steve, the spacing, or something...it looks too seventies.
Looks too seventies?  How?
I don't know, it just does. Try doing it the other way.
....What other way?
Put them together.  Like, Horizontal.  Here, no, like this.  Go look.
Had I known you wanted them like that, I would have just kept them all on one piece of backing instead of cutting it.
I don't know how I want it, babe.  How does it look?
Okay, I guess.
Just okay?! I don't want it to look just okay, I want it to look spectacular.  What do you think?
What if we did it like this?
Put a bit more space in there....yea, there! Stop!
Like this?
Yea, let me hold it and you look at it.
It's hard to imagine what it'll look like when you hold them all crooked and lopsided.
Those mean the same thing, babe.
*big sigh* Kristen Renae.  Do you like it like this?
Yes, hold on, let me look again...Yes, I do.
Are you sure?
Is my baby happy with it like this?
Okay.  If you're happy I'm happy.
I'm happy. *pause* Yes, I'm happy.

That's how that project went this morning.  You know what? I'm totally okay with that.

One month and 1/2 months in, and we're making the bedroom, 'our' bedroom. Translation? I've made it girly. We now have this bedspread, pictures, a bedskirt (which he can't even begin to understand the necessity of it), and these mirrors (they come in a pack of 4 for $5.00 at Home Depot, we bought two). Plus the candle holder with the decorative beads. Here's what I'm talking about:

Those are Sand Dollars in the bottom of the vase, what we decided to do was collect them from the Texas Coast and use those instead of the decorative beads, so we have memories of our trip!

Painting is next.  The room will not be complete without painting it.  I've already told him that he can have the rest of the house (in this house), I just want the bedroom.  Since we don't have a proper living room, this is where I spend most of my time, and I wanted it to look nice. 
We also need a new bed.  My back is hurting more and more from sleeping on that monstronsity he's had forever.  Our next project: our DIY headboard.  You can check out my dreamroom here, and join pintrest if you have an interest, because it's an amazingly addicitng site where I get a lot of my ideas from.  Check it out :)
Our next project? Building a headboard.
Oh boy.


I've survived a Month.

It's been a month.  One month since I started living with a boy.  One month ago I said goodbye to tucked-in sheets, dishes always being put in the dishwasher instead of in the sink, and not being ragged on for wanting to watch the Bachelorette. 

I don't regret a thing.  One certain person laughed at me when I told them I was making this move.  Said I'd never make it and this was the stupidest decision I could ever have made.  That's when I was just considering it.  Well, in your face, stupid person!  I'm the happiest I have ever been, minus the being on your own and having to be an adult part. 

It's the 'I love you's' every night before bed, the surprise visits at work, the nightly walks and cooking dinner together that make it all worth-while.  It's the smiles, the laughter, the poking fun, the adventures and the companionship.  I'm very lucky to have this man in my life, let alone to know that I want this to last a very, very long time.  We're going on 8 months now, and yes, we've had our ups and our downs, but nothing major.  They've all been stepping stones, distinct growing points in our relationship.  Whether it's to make me more mature, or him more understanding, they've had their purpose and we've learned our lessons from them and I've never once questioned my feelings for him.

So, even though the dishwasher is dirty and there's still room fore dishes to be loaded into it, I'm going to go curl up next to my boyfriend.  I'm going to look at him all adorably, which even I admit is completely sickening, but I can't help it.  Maybe we're still in the Honeymoon Stage.  If so, I hope it doesn't go away.



Death is a curious thing. No one knows for certain what happens, if there's a bright light at the end of the tunnel, two doors that you have to choose between, or if you're greeted at the pearly gates. No one knows,and that makes it an uncertainty, and sometimes a scary thing.

My grandmother died, at 82 years old, on Wednesday, July 6th. Grandma Pat was the keeper of the flintstones push-ups, the nasty wafer cookies in the middle drawer, the old percolating coffee maker and the rotary phone.The bringer of the olives, pickles & cherries to Thanksgiving & Christmas dinner, she had gumption, and I like to think I got mine from her. Completely honest (that woman never told a lie, I swear), a great judge of character, she told it to you how it was. She was a 1950's woman through and through. Skirts and bathrobes she was the fun Grandma, who knew what "What's up Dog" and "pulling a Britney" meant. Her collectors Barbie dolls always stood in the curio, and there was always a new one for me to oggle.

Rembering these things make me smile. Then I feel bad for smiling, because I feel like I should miss her, and at times I do. I miss her 50's radio station, I miss walking into their house and being greeted with the smell of coffee and cigarettes smoke. I miss sitting on the couch complaining about how unfair my dad was, and having her tell me "He wasn't perfect in his time, and he's a first-time parent. He's going to make mistakes just like you do." I think about how there won't be any pickles or olives or maraschino cherries at Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner anymore, then I say 'Pashaw, I'll bring them'. I remember Grandma in her rollers, nightgown & robe at night, watching her old 70's program that I thought was uber boring. I remember laying on the floor the night Jay was born, waiting for the news of my baby brother who I so badly wanted to be a girl. I remember being so annoyed that Grandma slept on the couch and kept the TV on until she was ready to go to sleep.

Then there's times that I'm happy and completely at peace, because I know. I know that there is a Heaven and I know without a doubt that my Grandma is up there. I know she's back to looking like she was in her 20's, and I know she gets to see her brothers as well as her mom and dad, and I'm happy for her. I got to have her for 23 years of my life, and I'm going to miss her deeply, but she lost her brother earlier than that, I think, and now she's seeing him again. This means that now, when I get married, she can be at my wedding. She can be overlooking it, wherever it may be, because when she was alive, she wouldn't have been able to travel. She gets to watch every single one of us now, instead of waiting for phone calls, and I'm happy for her. We get eternity together later on, and I'm okay with that.

This may be way too spiritual for some people, but certain events in my life have made me believe in God more than I ever did before, and I have complete faith in Him. I know he has my Grandma now, and I know she's happy. As sad as we may all be, Grandma lived a great life, had 4 children, eight grandchildren, and three great grandchildren. She's golden, she's safe, and she's making sure we all are as well. Grandma said to my dad before she died, "Jack, I'm not scared of death. I'm not looking forward to it happening, but I'm not scared of it. I had a strong Lutheran upbringing and I'm going to put it off as long as I can, but I'm not scared of it."

If Grandma isn't scared of it, than neither am I. I'm not excited about it, and I'm sad she's gone, but I'm at peace with it, and I still love her with everything I got.


Dog Gone It

Day One of living with a boy.
And his dog.
Which, he hates, and I absolutely love.  The dog, I mean, not living together. I love that, too, but, he finds the dog completely annoying and needy.  I see these traits as loyal and trustworthy.  He screwed up when he got a Lab, because I am a sucker for those.  Need we look at the four labs I grew up with? I think not.

Anyway. This Dumb Dog is now sitting outside, scratching at the patio door.  Why, you might ask?  It is because this dumb stupid thing of an animal chewed up my sandal.  Okay that's a lie-it wasn't my sandal, which makes it even worse.  I borrowed the damn things, and what do I do now?  It's not like I can give the pair back saying that this was how I took them in the first place.  Not at all. 

It's much like a child, when he does good things, he's my kid.  When he's a rotten, spoiled, irritating, obnoxious thing of a being- he's totally Steve's.  I can just picture him coming home from work, with I in heels and pearls around my neck vaccuming in a total June Cleaver way,
'Do you know what your son did today?!'
'How come when he's bad, he's my son?'
'Because, I say so, and I'm an absolute angel and I know my son wouldn't do something like that, so he must have gotten it from your influence.'
and Steve'll be all, '...yes, dear.'
That's right.

I know I'll end up forgiving him in about ten minutes, but right now I'm angry.  I know that he will stand by me (the dog, not my boyfriend) when no one else will, because after all, they're all about loyalty and being your best friend.

Right now, though?
He's still a dumbass dog.


I live with a boy?!

I'm living with a boy. I'm choosing to live with a smelly, messy boy. This is MY choice?!
It's my choice to have to do our laundry. Not because he asks me to, but because I take the initiative?
I HATE Laundry!
It's my choice to always clean the kitchen, with dishes piled up in the sink and the dishwasher empty.

It's my choice to sit across from him and read a book while he plays video games?
It's My choice.
To cook for two?
My choice.
Yet, amid all these negative things about living with a boy, I can't help but seem to look at the good. Like the little moments. Where he falls asleep after a day of work right next to me, curled up under our new green, cream and chocolate comforter. Or the moments where he chooses me over going to dinner with a friend. I can't forget about the little nuances that make him MY boyfriend.
The face I wake up to every morning. The face I fall asleep to, the one I cry to, the one I vent to. The person I jump on when I'm excited about good news. He is mine, I am his, and I am living with him.

The next step.
The next level.

Let's just hope I can remember all of those good things when he forgets to put the toilet seat down (which he hasn't forgotten yet!).


Hypothetically speaking, of course...

This all happened because I was wondering how much a trip to Angel Falls would cost.
Yea....my boyfriend and I? We're fun...hypothetically speaking.

It costs just as much to fly to Venezuela as it does to go to Disney World for the two of us.

 Holy cow, why does it cost so much?

Well for starters, it's an international flight, babe.

Pfft, we'll take a bike.(meaning motorcycle).

Um, no thanks...I don't want to drive through Mexico (where I'll probably die), Guatemala, Honduras, Costa Rica (although ziplining through the jungle would be awesome!), Nicoragua, Panama, Columbia (where I'll also probably die) just to get into Venezuela, where we then have to drive through half of that country to get to the falls!

Well now you're just being negative.

What?! You just called ME negative?!

Yup. That just happened!

You know what? Let's do it. Totally. Gas has to be cheaper in Southern America. However if I die on this trip/ride, I'm blaming you.

How're you going to blame me for something if you're dead?

Well, first of all, I won't get past a border-town in Mexico so I'll be kidnapped, so I can blame you as that's happening...and then, once they realize that the US doesn't negotiate with terrorists and they can't get ransom for me, I'll be shot. I'll come back and haunt your ass. You, however, will get off scott free being as how you're partially Mexican, and they'll welcome you with open arms.

*claps*. You figured out my plan. well played, Kristy...well played.

I mean, this is all hypothetically speaking, though.

Oh...right...I'm so funny.


Here's To...

Here's to Best Friends.
Here's to the heartache
the hurt
the joy
the tears
the break-ups
the make-ups
the fights
the laughter
the pillow fights
and dance classes.

Here's to the obnoxiousness
the 'I love you's'
the 'I'll always be there's'
the 'I'm moving-across-the-country'.
the goofiness
the support
the parties
the meaningful moments.
Here's to the shocks,
the twists
and turns,
the missing of important dates,
the being there for the meaningless ones,
the secrets,
the successes,
the failures,
the sharing of everything.

Here's to the pictures,
the memories,
the growing up
and going your own way.
Here's to the 'I always have your back.'
and 'You always have mine.'
the late-night talks,
 summer night walks,
and never taking a decent picture.

 Here's to the mistakes,
the lessons,
the lies
and the truths.
To you being you,
and me being me.
Best Friends we'll forever be.

As Luck Has It*

Ever have one of those nights where your brain just won't shut down?  You try and try, but nothing comes of your attempts?  That's what is happening to me. Right now.  There isn't even anything really on my mind...I just can't stop thinking.  Thinking about my best friend and what she's going through, thinking about money,thinking about school...
Just thinking.

I also can't stop thinking about how lucky I am.  Not just for being where I am, but for everyone in my life right now.  For Stephen and Joann, the best friends I didn't think I'd have down here.  For Crystal and Stacy. For Aunt Nette, Erynn & Jake.  For the people back home who still matter, Katie, Mike, Jenn (can't forget Hudson & Roy!), my Mom, Dad, Jack & Jay.  Oh, Lyndsi, too. 

These people have helped make me who I am today, even if they've been in my life a short time.  None of them have negative energy, and none of them want to see me fall.  They're all here to pick me up when I need it, and they'll continue to be there. 

I'm unbelievably lucky, and I hope you all have people like these in your lives who lift you up, support you (whenever/however you need it), and entertain you all the time.



I'm a pretty normal girl.  I have brown hair, green eyes, freckles, insecurities, hopes, dreams, achievements.  I'm in school, I have a job, a family that cares about me, friendships that are getting stronger by the day.  I have people that don't like me and people that love me.  Like I said, I'm normal.

Except for that pain that resides in my knees.  It alternates, and it always goes back to the origin of my problems.  Usually it's in the left knee, but occasionally it's in the right.  Sometimes it's an ache, sometimes a shooting pain.  They happen when I'm stressed, they happen because I slept on it wrong or the weather changed.  It just...happens.

So, yea, I'm normal.
Except for the fact that I take a shot every month to control pain I would otherwise be in for weeks or months at a time.

I've gone through different medicines.  Steroids, Sulfur pills, anti-inflamatory meds.  Those are only a few.
Here's my thank you to Enbrel. For letting me be a normal, active girl again, who's going to a rock concert in May, an amazing beach trip to Corpus Christi in June, and who is always active, because she remembers what it was like not being able to walk.

Yea, I'm pretty normal.


That Stupid Piece of Metal

Who would have thought a key would scare me this much? It's just a standard key, a piece of metal that fits in my hand. It's nothing cheesy like 'the key to my heart' or what-not. It opens a door, which is in a standard door jam, white, with two locks. It's a key that scares the ever-loving-crap out of me.

It's the key to his house.
This is how much he trusts me.
This is how much he's letting me in.

This is how I know I'm in trouble. The good kind of trouble. The, 'ohmylanta do I really want to be in this kind of trouble?' trouble. The kind that has me picking linens, and venues, and saying, "No, mother, I don't think a ceremony on a pier would be too much, and Yes, if you're wondering, I'd love to have the fishermen sitting there as well." trouble.

I'm screwed.
This, I am certain of.

I go to sleep with a smile on my face every night, and at the risk of seemingly completely bat-shit-insane, everytime he calls me beautiful, I actually start to believe it. So, let's go back to this key.

This is how I know I'm 95% screwed, because I can never be 100% invested in something emotionally, oh no. I always have to have my guard up, and part of me thinks I'm insane.  For what? Well-- here's 8 reasons.

1.) for planning something that we're not even a month into yet
2.) for thinking a Key means so much
3.) for taking a chance.
4.) for risking everything, once again.
5.) for re-thinking my not wanting to have children
6.) for re-thinking my not wanting to even get married
7.) for re-thinking everything I've decided I wanted for myself in the past year.
8.) for having faith.
You have to have it though, right? Without the faith that he cares that much about you, without the faith that he won't hurt you, and if I didn't have faith that this won't end up in a horrible train-wreck waiting to happen way....what the hell am I doing in it in the first place?

I have faith in that key.
I have faith in every single kiss.
I have faith in our pillows.
I have faith in us.
And that scares me more than the stupid key.


If this is Austin, I still love you*

Isn't it funny how the place you want to escape from the most is the place you end up missing the most? It's the place you run away from, but always end up returning.

As I landed in Flint yesterday, I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. Dreary, depressing, blanketed in white, cold Flint. Where the only good things here are my family and a handful of friends. I love it for what it is and what it was.

Swartz Creek is a great place to grow up. Small Town outside of a once prosperous city (that you can't go into after 10:00 pm for fear of being shot, but still), it's like many American towns. After two hours, though, I sent this text message: "Wish it was time to come home."


To Austin, Texas.

Where there's an almost 13 year old girl who looks up to me, a 16 year old I torture like my little brother, a guy who treats me like I'm the best thing since sliced bread, an Aunt that is teaching me everything I need to learn, things to do no matter what night it is, where you can be country in the city, where my car is currently needing an alternator on the side of the curb.

I can't imagine living anywhere other than Austin, now.

I'm never negative, and it just seemed (as a good friend of mine pointed out) that as soon as I was 'home', I was negative. My parent's house will always be home, but it's not my home.

I can't wait to go to East Lansing, take a picture with Sparty, see my friends, but that's not home either. I feel like a visitor, and I keep thinking, 'what are the perks to being here?' Coney dogs, Faygo, friends, seeing my dad.

I wrote that two months ago.  Back when I was in Michigan, back when I thought life couldn't get better. 

Well, newsflash, it has. 

I still miss my family like crazy, my car was fixed within the week, and then the guy who treated me better than sliced bread now has a title.  It's not gigantic asshole or even dipshit, but it's my Boyrfriend. I've realized that home is not just here in Austin, but wherever I'm with someone who cares about me.  I've realized I don't have to go to Swartz Creek.  I'm not yearning to see the high school, swing at Elms road park, or even go sledding.  No, I'm missing the people.  My family and my friends.  I'm not missing football or baseball games, even though I am a bit depressed I won't see a Tigers game for my birthday this year. I'm happier than I was at this time last year, the year before that, and even the year before that.  

So, Austin, I'm in love with you.
Always have been, and I always will be.


Not very convincing.

I keep trying to convince myself I have everything figured out.  That's pointless, because I know I don't.  I know I still have lessons to learn, mistakes to make, and heartaches to have. 

I know the only attitude to have is a positive one, and I know that everything will make sense one day. 

I know all of this, so why am I trying to convince myself otherwise?  It's a part of growing up. 


The "L" word

Love.  What a powerful word that is.  A coworker and I were having a convorsation about my new relationship, and he asked, "Have you thrown out the 'L' word yet?"

My answer? "Are you crazy?! Of course not!" His response was simple.  Why? 

In his eyes, he didn't know what came before.  A relationship or Love, because what is the point of being in a relationship if you're not in love?  The convorsation continued on to well, how can you know if you're in Love with the person if you're not in a relationship first?  I think a lot of girls and women confuse Love with a deep admiration. 

I had a boyfriend in high school who told me he loved me after a week of dating.
I laughed in his face.

It took my last serious boyfriend and I four months to say those words. Looking back, I'm not even sure that was Love, or just lust on steroids. 

To the girls who throw the word around like it's nothing: be careful with it.  It's okay if you do love someone, but on the other hand, how do you know? I know there isn't going to be a street sign that just plops down in front of you when it happens, and it's not going to hit you like a ton of bricks, but how can you be sure if you haven't even decided you'll commit to that one person?  How can you be sure that you can even stand that person for extended periods of time if you don't make that commitment first?

It boggles my mind a bit.

Granted, what is Love, exactly?  By defenition it's a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.  To me, it's doing anything and everything for that person, without them even asking.  Taking a bullet for them because you care about them that much that you'd rather they live and you die.

Now, I haven't felt that way about anyone except my family.  Even then, I know I'd definitely do it for my brothers.  No questions asked.  Instead of Love, how about Care?  People throw love around way too much anyways.

What about:
I care for you
I care if you get fat
I care that you went to the concert without me.
I care that you had dinner with your ex girlfriend.

It's understood better than Love.  I care about him, just like he cares about me.  For now?
I'm in haclavon with that.

Cheers :)

Here's to that giddy feeling.
Here's to feeling special.
Here's to confidence.
Here's to February 25th.


I'm just like you...only prettier

Either the day wasn't working with me, or I wasn't working with the day. I should have just stayed in bed. I felt like I was dancing backwards in high heels, and it wasn't even noon yet. I didn't understand why people didn't like me. There were only a certain few. A couple people said it was because I got male attention that they didn't, others said it's because I had the world in front of me, and, well, they didn't.

"Face it," Lissa said one day, "You're cute, skinny, and your personality is just magnetic. You were able to get out of your town and start life somewhere new. To them, you have it made. Not only that, you're going to get out of this crummy store. They're never going to be able to. You're educated. You shouldn't let this get to you."

Like I said, I didn't...for the most part. Yet it was intruiging to me. I know I'm not going to be liked by everyone, and that's not my goal in life. I just wasn't used to not being liked by everyone.

So what had happened to make the morning so bad? Well. For starters, who enjoys getting up at 6 in the morning? No one. Who enjoys sleeping so poorly they woke up every hour in anticipation of that 6:00 hour? No one. Not only did I experience all of those last night...I also shaved part of my eyebrow off this morning.

I'm not kidding.

My brothers and I always joked about how Jay's eyebrows dissappeared in the summer because they turned so blond, it looked as if he had none. He always had to use his fingers for emotions. That's what first sprung to my mind. I don't know how it happened, just that I was half asleep in the shower, dropped the razor from above my head, and caught it with my eyebrow. Seriously. It was a close shave, too. I mean literally, a whole spot, just gone. It's not so bad that I couldn't get to a salon & have them waxed even...so I set out trying to find a salon that was open at 8:00 in the morning.

Guess what?

There isn't one. So, I did the next best thing. I bought an eyebrow pencil and took it to work to try to fix it. Luckily Gem was there to help me out with it. I had never colored my eyebrow in before, I didn't know how to blend it and curve it and whatever the hell you do with it. Hence, where the people who do not like me come in. There was a chick who took a picture of her doing it, even though she didn't know what was going on, to send to her best friend who dislikes me.

I'm sorry, but what? What are you going to do? Make fun of me for having someone else do my makeup? I'm confused. Not only confused, but a little amused that you're taking pleasure in what I think is funny as well. Yes--I stressed about it for a little bit, but even as it happened I had to laugh! If appearances mean that much to you, and you're so concerned with how I look, you might want to gauge how I'm reacting to the situation before you go around making a big deal out of something. I've already proven that I'm not going to let you girls get to me. I graduated high school, and you're both grown women with children. You might want to get over it-- just a thought.

You might be mexican and grew up in the streets of Austin, but I grew up in Flint. I think that's worse. As Erynn would say: Hold my hoops!

Oh, bless their hearts...they actually think they're going to bother me one day.


I love being the chick on the back of a bike....

but driving one?  That's even better.

Wouldn't it be nice if...
they were fixing the bike today?

Oh, by the way? When I say 'bike', there's only one thing I mean.  A motorcycle.  Heaven on two wheels.  Pure amazing freedom.  I rode on my first bike when I was little.  I can't even remember the age.  My dad was driving his green yamaha, and I was in front.  Just around the block, though, and not too fast.

Instead of his & her monogram towels, my paren'ts had his & her motorcycles.  His was a dull-apple green, and hers was a bright gorgeous sparkly cerulean blue. I fell in love with two things that day.  The Cerulean Blue and motorcycles.

The next time I even set foot on a bike I was 15, and it was a motocross bike. I couldn't grasp the concept of evening out the clutch and the gas to make it go, and it was the same with a manual car.  Once I got it into 2nd gear on, it was easy.  First though? That....was a horse of a different color.

Since I had grown up around bikes, when my friend Jason pulled into the driveway on his slick new Shadow, I didn't hesitate.  I hopped on the back of that thing like a fat kid would eat cake.  I had grown up around bikes, just like I had guns.  Whereas most parent's would be apalled that their child was hopping on the back of a bike at 18, my dad's only requirement was that he needed to drive it first.  Just once, around the block.  This time, I was on the back. That's when the love affair really started. 

There wasn't anywhere Jason & I went that summer that I wasn't on the back of his bike.  Unless his girlfriend was, but her parent's wouldn't let her most of the time.  That was my senior year of high school. 

Now, I'm in Austin, Texas.  Motorcycles are all over the place.  One of my best girlfriends & her husband ride, my aunts boyfriend rides, Homeboy rides (but doesn't have a bike...anymore).  It's practical to have a bike, and more than practical, it's almost a requirement. 

So wouldn't it be nice, if they were fixing the broken bike in the garage, if all it needs is a new clutch, and oil change, and a little love. 

And all this from an assumption, because someone nodded to the garage where the bike is, and when I asked what they were doing tomorrow, neither one answered, but switched the subject.

A girl can definitely dream, right?


The dreaded

Valentines Day.  It's tomorrow. The dreaded holiday that is all flowers and candy and lovey-mother effing-dovey. 

I am on the brink of despising it.  

It's not because I've always been single on V-day, or because they've all been horrible.  Quite the contrary.  I had a boyfriend for two Valentines day's, and they were so sweet and nice. All the rest, I've broken up with the poor guy before the day devoted to red and pink even came around. I just feel that there shouldn't be one day devoted to being sweet.  Flowers for no reason are way better than flowers on Valentines Day.  Then it seems like they're mandated.

Give me the martyrdome.  That's what I want.  Give me the history behind the day.  I'm more interested in history that stands the test of time than flowers that're only garunteed for five days. Granted...every girl loves flowers... but give me the poem the Duke of Chaucer wrote.  Give me history, or give me death.
Yea--I went there.

I understand that St. Valentine signed it 'you're Valentine' and I understand that he helped lovers get married under cover.  I get that, but let's remember the secrecy, yea?  Not mass produced cards candy and colorful flowers.  Remember elopements, persecution and death.
How's that for a twist on your favorite day, America?!

This year I have a Valentine.  Which is weird.  It's not just let's watch a movie & go out to a nice dinner because we're in high school.
No--instead, he said it's up to me.  Whatever I want to do for Valentines Day is up to me.  No more being indecisive, 'Put your foot down and tell me what you want to do.'
Something fun. No fancy dinner.
I want to watch the sun set in Lake Michigan.
I want to go to the batting cages.
or a shooting range.
I'm that kind of girl.
Give me a helmet and a hunk of explosive metal, give me a rock to climb.
Not a candle lit dinner.
I think St. Valentine would greatly approve of that.


What a Weird day

Please tell me there is a full moon tonight, because today has been the oddest day, and I need an explination for it. Another co-worker today told me that he liked my swagger. I quote "You're always immaculately groomed, your attitude is amazing. You carry yourself well. I like your swagger, kid."

Talk about an ego boost to start the day. Didn't last long, though.  Soon shit started to hit the fan. Enter: The Pizza Incident.
Jealousy is a funny thing, and I'm not sure that's what Loretta (yea...that sounds like a good name for her) has, but a handful of people think so. Someone first suggested that to me after what happened today. I asked the Aussie about it, and he shot back with, "Well, you do seem to get quite a lot of male attention."
....Excuse me?  I do? How come I wasn't aware of this? Male attention? I don't even know what that is. 

I wasn't pretty up north. Maybe it was just because I didn't have self confidence, or I cared, and now I do have self confidenceand I don't care. It's hard to say. This is a whole new concept to me, and I'm surprised by it.  Then it goes back to Homeboy, and how he makes me feel like I am all of those things.  I'm very confident in myself and my abilities.  Speaking of abilities, now let's fast forward.

Back at work, the district Sales mangers came in.  I talked to them for a bit, not even trying to give them my A game, but apparently I did.  They were very impressed that someone so young could be so professional, and I feel like I charmed the pants off of them.  Well, how could I not? Anyone with my father would know it just comes naturally, just like typing over 200 wpm (that's words per minute, fools!).  Crazy day, I tell you. 

Not to mention after coming back from lunch, the Task force was outside of work by the fence, doing a raid.  Joey and I were sitting in her car, and not once did we notice what was happening outside until it was over and they were all standing there escorting people into vans.
...really? How do you miss policeman all dressed up piling out of three unmarked Creeper vans?  Apparently when you're Joey and I, it's easy.  Especially when you're caught up in thinking you're going to be fired from a part time job that you desparately need.

I'm telling you guys--weird day. Very, very weird day.

Do you have the Ations?

It shouldn't matter.  Whatever he is doing shouldn't matter to me. Go take a trip with your girlfriend who's parent's are paying for everything that you can only use for a vacation.  Have at it.  That seems fishy.  Why wouldn't they give you the money for a more practical use?  You know--seeing as how you lost your job and now have no way of paying rent.  Tensions are only going to get higher from what they already are about money.

This is why you shouldn't move in with your significant other after only 3 months off-again-on-again dating.

No one is perfect, no relationship is perfect, and I know this.  Yet the sheer rediculousness of half the problems that I hear about makes me question everything.  I also admit that a bit of it is jealousy.  I also believe that half the things I hear about are promises that are never to come true.  You know, like the friend you had in high school who moves to the big city you're living in now and says, "Hey, we should get together for a drink sometime! It'd be really great to see you." and you agree, but it never happens.  Empty promises fill the world.

Also, a note to the girl: I'm his best friend.  A shitty one at times, yes, but I'm a part of his past, of course there are going to be pictures of us together on his laptop, in his room, etc. You can't get upset about that.  Once again: showing immaturity.  I become so aggravated, so insanely irritated whenever this happens.

Just when I think I've reached the peak of my irritation, and that everything is going to go downhill from here, my reality comes back to me. The random text message asking me "How do you determine what size mountain bike you need?" or the video of his dog just rolling around in a pond.

My reality.
My not-so-empty promises. 
My up-for-anything yet loves-being-a-hermit-guy.
He makes me feel skinny.  When we're just laying there and he finds my hip bone jutting out. He makes me feel sexy, when he strokes my hair away from my neck, "I like seeing the curve." before bending down and kissing all over it.  He always makes me laugh, and feel like there's someone reliable there.  Someone thinks aobut nice surprises to give me.  Even though I talk about how he irritates me, I can't help but remember how lucky I am that when we're together, he's always constantly touching me. 
That's my reality.
He has all of the 'Ations'.  His own habitation, transportation,occupation and education.  He has them all.

My reality doesn't have empty promises, they're all attainable. 
That's what I have to remember. 


Lazy Days*

It's days like these that are my absolute favorite. Overcast, muggy, rain threatening to fall at any second, lazy days. The kind of days where you just want to sit on your couch and watch netflix all day long, with re-heated Chinese food and either your closest girlfriend or your boy.

Don't get me wrong, blue skies and sunshine are part of the reason I moved to Austin, but I think it's because there's always blue skies and sunshine that I appreciate these days more.

I'd give anything to be on the couch with Erynn right now, being lazy and watching B-rated movies. An amazing second would be with him, laying on the bed with his arm around me, watching movies we've seen a 100 times before. That would also include pretending to be Emril and Paula Dean, cooking anything and everything, while making fun of my 'Canadian Accent'.

For the record: Michiganians do not have an accent, the midwest is said to have the most accurate dialect in the United States, and not only that, Canadians have an accent, thank you very much.

This day deserves part of it to be dedicated to writing. I haven't actually written anything worthwhile in a long time, and I'm dying to get my hands on my laptop today. My Venti Iced Marble Mocha Macchiato in hand, and ideas in the other, I'd be unstoppable.

Alas, I am at work until 6. Trying to get 24 leads before 6 PM tomorrow night. Talk about discouraging. Instead of being lazy, I have to put myself out there. Talking non-stop, no comfortable silences, and, probably, during my lunch, I'll be talking about 'business' instead of relaxing while eating my Healthy Choice Steamer and my orange. Which reminds me, I didn't bring a drink.

All-the-while, it's still a good day. A good soundtrack is playing, good people are here, and even though it's a dreary lazy day, I still feel like I'm walking on sunshine.


I'm so doing this.

Diva's Unite!

Yea, I'm taking place in a Diva 5k in March. March 5th, to be exact. It'll be complete with a tiara, feather boa AND a rose for Me (and everyone else who participates)!!

Super Stoked.
Let the training commence.


New Years Resolution

I've never liked New Years Resolutions. Year after year, people make them, and year after year another one is broken, and people laugh at their goals.

I feel like I've already reached my New Years Resolution. I did that three months ago tomorrow. I've moved out of my comfort zone and into real life. I still can't believe I'm here. Everytime I pass the city I get chills. Really, I do. This incredibly lucky feeling overcomes me, and I'm just so relieved. I may not be doing much, but at least I'm not doing it in Swartz Creek. It takes a very strong willed and determined person to move away from everything they've ever known and do something completely different. I always talked about it, dreamed about it, and finally realized I had it in me.

In one day, I'll be in a land of (hopefully) snow and comfort, where 18* is the high and 12*is the low. Ahh, welcome home. The land of comfort, Koney Dogs, and close friends. The place where it's great to visit and grow up, but never to live again. It's the place with a real wood-burning fireplace, iced over creeks and rivers, snow grazing the top of Sparty's head, and crazy bad roads.
Like I said,
it's home.

I've never been more excited to go and visit :)

So, here's my new years resolution. To be happy--wherever I am-- and to kick ass at whatever I do.
Shouldn't be too hard when I'm already succeeding, huh?