Turning 30: Expectation vs. Reality

For months prior to turning 30, I had an irrational pit of fear growing in my gut that lurked behind every balloon, every party hat, and every cupcake I encountered (which was a surprisingly high amount considering I don't work at a party store, or a clown store--wait, do these things exist? Just the thought of this is terrifying). The thought of leaving my 20's behind caused me to simultaneously celebrate and fear the impending decade as there are many things I'm happy to leave behind, but very little to look forward to.  The following chart pictates (depicts+dictates in picture form) my expectations of turning and being 30 with the reality of the situation as I've come to know it.

Well, it could have been a lot worse. And I'm barely a week in so I'm sure there's more to come. But I might actually start to be looking forward to this decade. And cupcakes help. Does that count?

*PSA: Please donate your brain thoughts to this blog by leaving a comment that shares something I should be looking forward to in my 30s. 

My Dogs are Weirdos

I have 2 dogs. Cooper is a mutt from the Colorado Puppy Rescue, and Matilda is an English Bulldog. They are similar in color, and they are both absolute weirdos. Allow me to elaborate.

Weirdo number 1: Cooper
-Extra long giraffe legs. He's also a bit of a Houdini in that he can get out of anywhere.
-Fur that grows out in one color and turns to a different color, tan and black. It sheds and shows up on any color clothing because it's two different colors. Jerk.
-Exceptionally emotional for a dog. I'm pretty sure if he were a human he'd wear skinny jeans and have long black hair hanging over one eye wearing a t-shirt that says "It's a dark, dark world".
-Will sleep with all four legs in the air. Almost like he's waiting for a belly rub, but he's totally asleep.
-Tucks his tail to run faster. It kind of works, but usually when he's in super crazy combat mode.
-Tries to catch toys with his front two paws. He must think they're hands or something.
-Thinks cat poop smells really good. He is usually very proud of his scent after rolling and wants to be close. It's disgusting.
-Will chase his tail and actually catch it. And then he holds on to it and spins in circles.
-Part fish. Will swim until he drowns.
-Has internal GPS on all tennis balls in the area. A ball can be hidden under the couch for a month and he doesn't care, but once he wants it, he'll practically rip the couch apart to get it. He can sense it in a bag hidden in a closet.
-Overall: Giant Weirdo.

Weirdo number 2: Matilda
-Brick on legs. She is a solid dog, with the daintiest paws. No tail, so she has to wag her whole body.
-Snores louder than any human. Occasionally will wake herself up by snoring and then bark at the noise that woke her up. She barks at herself.
-Also farts louder than any human. Can literally clear a room. Literally. I'm standing in the hall typing this waiting for my room to air out right now. 
-Cannot swim. We've tried to take her swimming and she has to wear a dog life vest.
-Will chew on a toy until her eyes start to roll back in her head. It's kind of creepy, but you can also tell that she is totally enjoying what she's doing.
-Barks constantly. At everything. For no reason other than she just wants to bark.
-HATES the flyswatter. No idea why, but if she sees it, she'll try to kill it.
-Is afraid of the vacuum cleaner, and yet will run back and forth in front of it growling while I'm using it.
-Frequently throws what we refer to as "pig fits", meaning she rolls around on her back and snorts while thrashing from side to side. She's probably scratching her back by rubbing it on the floor, but it's entertaining. And weird. 
-Sassy from day one. Quite the attitude problem. Stubborn. Kind of a B, if we're being honest (which we are--honesty is the best policy always).
-Overall: also a Giant Weirdo.

Well, they're both weirdos. But I suppose that's fitting since I'm sort of a weirdo too. And I love them anyway, does that count?

Thinking in the Shower

I'm not sure if it's because I feel alone or safe or like I'm in Seattle, but when I'm in the shower my mind tends to wander to places it doesn't usually when I'm not in the shower. (I almost said 'doesn't normally', but I'm pretty sure there's nothing normal about me so there's that.) It doesn't have a set system, and there aren't really any brain triggers in there. It just kind of happens. Here is a list of things that occasionally happen in my head while I'm in the shower:

-Imaginary conversation with people that will 99% never happen. Ever. And it's always future conversations, and what I would say. Rarely is it something like an acceptance speech. Usually it's a fight or disagreement. I always win and have some amazing one-liners. Is it weird to high five yourself? Once in a while it's a positive interaction. Some people give compliments like "Wow, you are such an amazing and confident presenter!", whereas I'm more likely to say, "If you were a tree, man you'd be a good tree" or some weird shit like that. I'm awkward, what can I say?

-Working through scenarios that will 99% never happen. If I were instantly transported to an alley in the middle of a blizzard, with only this shower stall and the things inside it, how long would I survive? What would I do if I saw a Unicorn? What if I got out of the shower and blow-dried my hair? (Hahaha yeah that's not going to happen).

-Wait, did I hear something? Was that the baby? Is he up already? Or was that one of the dogs? Is it a burglar? It's probably a burglar. Crap. Well, I guess I'm going to have to squeeze shampoo in their face. Oh wait, it's just the TV...again. Probably shouldn't have left it on the Law & Order: SVU marathon. 

-No really, did I just hear something? NO SERIOUSLY WHAT WAS THAT NOISE? Why does it sound like there's a tiny horse on the roof? Is that a pigeon? Stupid pigeons GET OFF MY ROOF. 

-How long have I been in here? Usually I have a rough idea of what time it is regardless of what I'm doing. I think the shower might have some sort of force field around it that prevents me from having any clue how long I've actually been in the shower. It could be 10 minutes it could be 45. Hope you weren't planning on having any hot water...

-I wish I could sit down. This one probably isn't weird, I just wish I had a bench or something in there so I could sit down once in a while. I'm lazy I guess. 

-Did I already use shampoo? Sometimes I forget, so I do it again. I'm starting to think that there really is some force field or vortex happening in there that makes my brain just not work right. And by the way I'm pretty sure that the whole "Lather. Rinse. Repeat." business is total crap so you'll go through shampoo twice as fast and have to buy more because you still have half a bottle of conditioner left. 

-Imagining what it would be like to be on vacation right now. Usually it's somewhere warm and tropical and awesome. There's a beach and a masseuse and really delicious food, but I imagine that I'm in the shower on vacation. Why I would be spending my time in the shower thinking about all the awesome things I have around me on vacation instead of doing those things is beyond me. I told you my brain did weird stuff. 

-A lengthy To-Do List. It usually has anywhere from 5 to a million things on it. Things I should do immediately, things I need to do sometime soon, stuff I should take care of this weekend, stuff I should do this summer (because that's  when teachers do Responsible Adult Things), etc. And you know what, that damn force field lowers it's thick shield just as I open the shower door and magically that list is gone. Down the shower drain with a hairball and extra shampoo. It's like the first glimpse of the bathroom counter pulls me back to reality and I go on about my usual business. 

-I'm hungry. And then I think about all of the delicious food I wish I were eating right at that moment in time. Somehow magically nothing gets soggy even though I'm thinking about eating food in the shower, so maybe it isn't a force field vortex so much as a Magical Shield of Magicness. Yaaasssss...

Like I said, these things don't usually pop into my head during the course of a normal day. Usually just when I'm in the shower. But at least I am showering, does that count?

Painter's Palate

One of my favorite creative outlets is painting. (I also enjoy cooking, listening to music, dancing, and long walks on the beach. Actually, not really. Walking in sand is difficult.) Recently, The Paint Cellar opened up over at Southlands Mall and I have been there several times. I've been to both the instructed sessions and open paint sessions, and I'd have to say that I enjoy both equally. I've gone with friends and on my own, and again I enjoy both occasions. Now, I may be biased but I think I've created some pretty stellar pieces, most recently a painting of the moon through the trees. Well, you'd think that based on the glowing report I've given thus far that I love every part of the process. If you think this, you'd be wrong. The part I like least about painting is the GIGANTIC ASS MESS I make, specifically on my paper palate...and my clothes...and my hands...and my shoes. There is an abnormal amount of paint mixing that goes on in front of my canvas. Most people take the basic colors and make it either darker or lighter and move on. Oh no, not me. I have to make it lighter with a tint of some other color, and then slightly darker because it was too light and then it needs some blue and then...I think you get the point. So what starts as a normal sized spot of mixed colors turns into a crazy sprawling blob of color that goes from light to dark and back again several times. Sometimes I need two palates. TWO. The normal painter (aka any person I've every gone painting with or see at a paint place or most likely anyone reading this blog) needs one palate for paint. But not me. I need TWO. But this process of mixing, lightening, adding blue, darkening, lightening again, etc. usually results in a beautiful, one of a kind piece of artwork. Does that count?

If you'd like to receive one of my creative masterpieces, leave a comment on my blog or hit me up on FB or Twitter. I'll see what I can do. You may even get a picture of the palate I used to make your painting! 

TV as an Emotional Evaluation

Every morning while I'm getting ready I put Bitty in his bouncy chair and put the tv on to the Disney Junior channel. He doesn't really watch tv, but the background noise is kid friendly and he sometimes likes the music. I've realized over the past few weeks that the shows on Disney Junior, actually my reaction to the content therein, gives me a pretty good gauge for my attitude that day. Let me explain. For example, one morning last week Doc McStuffins was helping a toy feel better, and said that you could still be brave even if you asked for help. I literally almost teared up. I thought, "You're right, Doc. I'm still brave. Even brave people (or dragons as the episode may be) can ask for help sometimes." Sadface. I realized that I was feeling a bit tired and emotional that morning and planned accordingly. I wore a super cute outfit to work and had some peanut butter. Peanut butter makes everything better. (So does cheese. I'm pretty sure that queso is what holds the pieces of my soul together. That may be another blog post topic. Stay tuned.)  Well, not all mornings are that emotional. A few weeks ago we were listening to Special Agent Oso help a kid make breakfast or something. After he completed his mission, the mom asked if Special Agent Oso could stay for breakfast. Oso replied, "No, I've got to get back to headquarters." I replied, with more immediacy than I realized I was capable of that early in the morning, "And because you eat people for breakfast because you're a bear." The hell is wrong with me? That's so snarky, and not even remotely appropriate for a kids show. "Sorry kids, Special Agent Oso is now wanted by the FBI for EATING THE JOHNSON FAMILY." Yeah, I can really see Disney getting behind that episode. Sometimes I'm even more than snarky. While listening to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show last week Mickey kept asking Goofy to say the magic words. Goofy messed up the magic words several times in a row. Each time he messed it up, Mickey would ask the audience if those were the magic words. Then the obligatory pause for response from Mickey...and then, "You're right, those aren't the magic words!". Now, the first time Mickey asked this question I didn't think much of it. By the third or fourth time he asked though I had the RAGE*. "No those aren't the magic words! Come on, Goofy, get your shit together! Seriously!" I had to remind myself that this was a kids show and I probably shouldn't change the channel aggressively and chuck the remote. Who gets that emotionally revved up over kids shows? Honestly... But I try really hard on those days when I'm especially snarky to improve my attitude before I leave the house...and sometimes I just roll with it. I feel like I should have a warning button that flashes "SNARK MONSTER" on it on those days. Does that count?

*For more information on the RAGE, check out my blog post on Jerk Carpet Tacks.