Ben's 26th birthday and more!

Today is Ben's 26th birthday! Technically, we aren't formally celebrating it today as a family though...we are doing that during the weekend of March 9th instead to combine his birthday and my Dad's birthday (which is on March 30th).

And, less importantly, it's almost the one year anniversary of this blog! I started it last year on the day after Ben's birthday. It's weird to think where we all were just a year ago. Ben had moved out of our parent's house not too long before that and has since moved to Winter Park. I was living with our parents at the time, and now I'm in St. Pete. And, although our parents still live in The Villages, they are in a different house. 

Last year at probably right around this time, we were eating cake, drinking wine and smoking cigars out front. Side note: How come no one told me I looked so gross and fat faced? Geez.

Soooo, happy birthday Ben! I love you!

Since I'm pretty good about posting photos to Facebook and Instagram but not my blog too often, I figured I'd put a few up of this weekend. Here we go...

Proof that I did the 5K on Saturday morning!

Birds in Florida are so awesome

This photo of my dad and me cracks me up

Pretty, huge flowers in downtown St. Pete

Miss Pip!

My parents

Hope everyone had a nice weekend! Although I'm happy I did the 5K, I'm a little bummed out I only got to sleep in one morning. It feels like tomorrow should be Sunday.

Ok, time for me to focus on wine and the Oscars! 

5K and Whatnot!

I'm doing my first, official 5K tomorrow! I'm not running it though. I'll be walking. It's still exciting news in my world.

Also, in blogging news, I updated my header image and description! I figured it was 2013 and time for a change.

Oh boy, oh boy. 5Ks and updated header images...what the frig is next for this girl?!

Birbigs

“The first time you fall in love, it’s such a transcendental feeling, you know? It’s like eating pizza-flavored ice cream. Your brain can’t even process that level of joy. And love makes people do crazy things, like kill people, or shop at Crate & Barrel. It makes us all a little delusional. I think our whole lives, no matter how low our self-esteem gets, there’s some part of us that thinks, ‘I have a secret special skill that no one knows about, and if they knew, they’d be amazed.’ And eventually, we meet someone who’s like, ‘You have a secret special skill!’ And you’re like, ‘I know! So do you!’ And they’re like, ‘I know!’ And then you’re like, ‘We should eat pizza ice cream together.’ And that’s what love is. It’s this mountain of pizza ice cream and delusion.”

—	Mike Birbiglia, Sleepwalk With Me

Warning: I'm going to hell!

Dating sites are so funny with the stuff they make you fill out.

On match.com, if you end up leaving any of your stats blank like your height, body type, religion, smoking habits, education, etc. it automatically defaults to "I'll tell you later"...which I find hysterical. I mean, these are important things, that someone probably wants to know right now. I don't want to find out later that you're super short, obese, smoke like a chimney and/or barely graduated high school. I want to know that shit right now! That way, I don't have to meet you. Chances are, if you're leaving this sort of basic stuff blank, it's not a good sign...at all.

That being said, I'm going to totally contradict myself here because I always leave the religion question blank. I don't really want to put "atheist" because of the negative connotation it holds (i.e. I want to kill all your friends and p.s. I believe in Satan), and I don't want to put "agnostic" because I don't want to be associated with "I don't know, I don't think so, but maybe?, because I don't want to go to hell in case I'm wrong." Then, there's the option of "spiritual but not religious"...which I also don't want to put because it's just a bullshit bunch of fluff. When you put "spiritual but not religious", it likely means one of three things 1) I'm some sort of Christian but I don't go to church 2) I don't know what the fuck to put for this, so I'll pick this one because it contains the most words 3) I want you to think I enjoy meditating and star gazing.

So yeah, even though I would associate most with the atheist, agnostic or spiritual but not religious options, I don't like choosing any of those, so I leave it blank. Therefore, for me personally, when my profile says "I'll tell you later", what it really means to say is "I'll tell you later that I don't believe in god and think organized religion is a bunch of malarky." I'm pretty sure that's what it also means for most people that go this route (it's never like "I'll tell you later"...Guess what? Good news! I'm a Christian!). The only time this line of thought might lead you astray is when someone is a polygamist mormon or a scientologist or something along those lines. In those scenarios, "I'll tell you later" most likely means "I'll tell you much later because I have some pretty fucked up views, and also, I'm trying to work through some things with my therapist."

Why does it have to default to "I'll tell you later"? Your guess is as good as mine. Are you supposed to communicate during relationships and tell each other these types of things? I don't know. I think it should just remain blank. Most of the time, people just look at your photos anyway.

I'm not drinking tonight

Blog: Welcome back Emily. I hope you enjoyed your one and a half month hiatus. I also hope you enjoyed your birthday, Christmas, and New Year's. Happy 2013!

Me: Thanks blog! You're so kind. Now, let me write about something inspiring and thought-provoking.



I'm not drinking tonight. That detail might be hard to gauge on your own judging from the conversation above, but I'm not. This is not a common thing for me...mostly because I have alcoholic tendencies enjoy the relaxing routine of having a drink or two at some point after work.

My drinking routines are quite specific, and if I don't stick to them on an almost daily basis, by God, I lose my shit. Tea in the morning, coffee at work, water during the day, a beer while "cooking" dinner, a glass of wine while watching TV or reading. Could I wake up and have a beer with breakfast, wine at work, and coffee or tea later on? Pffft, sure, that might actually be preferable on some days, but mostly no. Mostly, I enjoy the routine.

It's not like I'm this caffeine and alcohol crazed junkie/honey badger that needs her fix, otherwise I'm all crazy and wild-eyed. No. It's just that I truly enjoy these beverages, and I truly enjoy the routine of having them in the order specified above. It's not at all like truly enjoying crack or enjoying the routine of smoking crack nightly on the porch. It's not. For example, if I don't have these beverages on hand, it's not like I'd go suck a dick just to be able to get a sip of some tea. See? Not like crack. Yes, my palms might get a little sweaty when I realize fuck, this is the last tea bag, I better fucking remember to buy some tea bags before tomorrow morning. But, mostly, I just miss (and wouldn't suck dick for) these beverages when I don't have them.

My take on juice, soda, lemonade and the like? GARBAGE. There's just no need for the stuff. I like an unsweetened iced tea now and again, and coconut water is great when you're hungover, but otherwise, noooope. Soda is silly. That's what I say.

Let's continue on with the most unimportant post in the world, shall we? One of the problems I have with alcohol is that I'm not picky about it. Actually, I guess that sounds like the opposite of a problem, depending on how you look at it. So, I guess it's an alcohol solution? I like all kinds of beer, except for IPAs. I will happily drink light beer, lager, brown ale, red ale, wheat beer, flavored beer, stout. And, when I say happily, I mean, like, I'm actually smiling. I tend to draw the line at malt beverages since I'm not really a big fan...oh, and I'm not in the 11th grade anymore. I like all kinds of wine too...red or white, sweet or dry. I like all kinds of mixed drinks. Well, I can drink all kinds of mixed drinks, but I usually prefer vodka ones. I will even drink bourbon or scotch on the rocks. That might be where I'm a little girly though...I can't do that kind of heavy duty drinking in true Don Draper style. Scotch, neat, and warm is gross to me. On the rocks, with a little extra water added, bingo. Yes, I know it ruins the drink, I'm well aware. The one thing I can't do for the life of me is shots. I sip shots like a school girl. I imagine school girls sip shots.

In case you're wondering, the reason I'm not drinking tonight is because I figure a person should be able to take a night off from drinking...even when they're not sick or not hungover. It's a hard concept to grasp, I know. I also figure one less drink that I have tonight is one more drink than I can have tomorrow. It's sound logic.

Seriously, I know I sound like an alcoholic because I think the majority of people, if and when they drink, tend to drink mainly on the weekends (I do that too). But, even though I consistently drink, I don't usually over drink. I'll drink more on the weekends than during the week, but I don't get drunk a lot. I get hungover easily and hate it. So, what's worse? Someone that doesn't drink during the week and then binge drinks on the weekends or someone that consistently drinks small amounts all week long? Yes, those are the only two options. Obviously I think the latter is better. I'm pretty sure my doctor would agree.

Now, there are many many many reasons to not get pregnant. One of the most important reasons to consider though is you can't drink for 9 months! I can't even imagine. That's almost like a whole year of not drinking. That's like 279 days of not drinking if every month had 31 days in it and your baby was born at exactly 9 months. That's like, horrible. Really, the only good thing to come from pregnancy, if we're looking for the silverest lining here, is you don't have your period for 9 months. Still not really worth the trade off though. Plus, you can just starve yourself and get the same no period result, so I'm not impressed.

Anyway, talk about a death sentence, that pregnancy business. What a BUZZ KILL (pun intended, boom!) If I found out I was pregnant, I can tell you, the first thing I'd want to do is get wasted. Not only because fuck, I'm going to have a baby, that's a bad time, get me a drink!, but also because I'm pretty sure I'd have to move in with my parents, quit my job, get huge and a bunch of other equally drastic scenarios.

And the thing is, you can't get an abortion just because you can't imagine not drinking for 9 months. Nooo, I'm sure that would be viewed as being an unfit mother. Imagine telling that to Planned Parenthood? Actually, I'm sure they hear that all the time. I need to plan my parenthood around my drinking habits, so yeahhh, I'm gonna have to go ahead and get that abortion. Can I come in on Saturday? Yeahhh, thanks. (Office Space. anyone? no?)

Not to mention, abortions in Florida are just frowned upon in general, regardless of whether or not the reasoning behind it is you're an alcoholic. I'm constantly reminded by countless billboards that my baby's heart beats at 18 days and that my baby has fingernails the very moment the sperm latches onto the egg. Either that, or it's just a scowl-faced looking Jesus with some proverb written underneath him which I'm pretty sure roughly translates to "I will damn you to hell if you get an abortion, even if it's because your uncle raped you"...or, something like that.

Ok, I guess that's enough alcohol and pregnancy talk for one night.

Hey guys, look at me, I'm blogging again, weeeeeeee...

Since I'm such a gifted writer, it only took me a little over a month to figure out what my next blog post would be about...

The difference of getting "dressed up" between guys and girls. 

I know what you're thinking...this is going to be good. Yeahhhhhhh, about that, it probably won't be.

Ok, so, for most girls, getting "dressed up" (like, for a date or a party or a night out with her bitches) involves a series of very specific steps that will then most likely all culminate with the disastrous revelation that she's too fat, her hair's not straight enough, her boobs aren't big enough, or something of the like. Am I right, ladies?

And, like I said, this is AFTER a strategic protocol is followed to try to ensure that these lowly feelings don't arise. A protocol that involves showering, shaving, plucking, lotioning, nail painting, hair blow drying, make-upping, booze drinking, magic potion drinking, jumping jacking, etc. (yes, I know some of these aren't real words). For some of the exceptional loony bins, it may even involve fake tanning, bra stuffing, spanx wearing, cosmetic surgery, or whatever else you might associate with excessiveness and an overall plummeted self image.

The likely end result after all of this prep work is a girl that looks as good as she can possibly look...or, at the very least, as good as she can possibly make herself look depending on her skill set. We're not all the best at makeup application, hair styling or making mountains out of mole holes. I think what I mean by that is it's hard to make boobs look big when they're actually small. Boy is that a good way to butcher the original intention of the phrase.

The point is, usually, a girl will still not be quite satisfied with her appearance even after working really hard at it. She always sees something negative or something she can improve.

Don't get me wrong, this is not always the case. We all know hideous looking girls or extremely overweight girls that somehow lack common sense and have an over abundance of self confidence and think they are the hottest thing since, well, anyone.

And, then there's the hot girl that thinks she is hot and knows that other people think she is hot and so, she likes to flaunt it around. Barf. But, the fellahs love this. Not good relationship material gentleman. But, yeah yeah yeah, a good show, nonetheless...I get it.

These last two paragraphs nicely sum up all the types of girls I never want to be friends with.

Uh oh, I'm losing track of my point. Ok, back on topic...girls try hard to make themselves look good, but they still don't think they look good enough.

Now, guys on the other hand...
The short version of this is a guy only has to roll out of bed, run his fingers through his receding hair and put on some clothes that are maybe clean to think that he looks like a shining star that every girl would want a piece of.

Have you guys ever seen that photo of the difference between what a girl sees when she looks in the mirror and what a guy sees when he looks in the mirror? Oh, ya know what, I'm on the internet machine right now, so let me just go ahead and google that shit for you. Here:

So true. I think this pretty much summarizes up all my points quite nicely.

If a guy is really trying to look good for a special lady, sure, he may try hard, but a guy's version of trying hard is so much easier and takes so much less effort than a girl's version of trying hard.

Guys don't typically highlight or dye their hair or blow dry it or straighten it or curl it or pin it up or whatever the fuck we do. Guys wash it, maybe...let it air dry...and put some gel in it...again, maybe. Guys shave their face, maybe. Guys may also shave their balls like once a week. Girls shave a million different things all the time. And, if you're a girl with a stache or those weird sideburn things, forget it. Then you're doing the guy shaving aaaand the girl shaving and things are just a big ole' mess for you.

Guys will put on a button down shirt or a nice t-shirt. A nice t-shirt, CHRIST. Imagine that, ladies. Guys will wear jeans 9 times out of 10. Oh, and most likely, some sort of flat, comfortable sneakery type shoe. Basically, for a guy to look his best, he has to be clean, somewhat well kept and have on a decent looking outfit. Maybe slap on a watch if he's feeling really spiffy. For a girl to look good, she has to come up with some sort of outfit that is much more like creating a cute, one-of-a-kind ensemble and much less like throwing together whatever is clean at the time. This can involve jewelry, scarves, hair accessories, high heels, uncomfortable clothes, makeup, belts, cardigans, hats, you name it.

I'm getting tired just thinking about it.

I think what all this is leading to is...this is precisely why guys should try their best to make a lot of money and pay for every date. I'm not really sure what else we possibly could have learned here.

The end! :-)

"Walking" the Youngin'

Just look at this sorry ass picture and you tell me if that looks like a dog having a good time. 

Head down, sauntering forward very slowly, hanging back just as far as her leash will allow her...all the tell tale signs of a dog in a gleeful state of mind about their walk. 

We're in Florida people...in NOVEMBER...so, the weather here is beautiful, breezy, not hot or humid. We're walking on quiet, palm tree lined streets where friendly people go by and wave and smile happily...and where Pippi can see other small dogs (usually also in pink accessories, which makes her feel comfortable) and socialize. She even has on a harness to ensure I don't pull too hard at her delicate throat. She has it made in the sun. This is cream puff status right here. Did I mention we rode in a golf cart first before the walk to try to get her amped up for the actual walk?!? 

Like, I imagine this must be how hard dorky guys try when they want to get laid by respectable, non-dorky women. Probably not good to bring up sex analogies when I'm talking about my dog, but you get the point. I don't want to have sex with my dog, you crazy monster.

Anyway, just to give you a little background on Pippi (the moment you've all been waiting for), she is actually quite hearty for someone so little in stature (7 pounds). Now, when I use the word "hearty", I am using it in the sense that you already know she's 7 pounds. So, like, she's hearty for 7 pounds...get it? Knowing this background, she has more leeway room.

It's kind of like being a "good" driver when you're Asian. If stereotypes aren't failing us (when do they really ever let us down?), you're probably not that good of a driver...but, like I said, you have way more leeway room to suck ass. There are a plethora of other similar scenarios I can unfold for you, but I don't want to piss anyone off here...well, apparently, I don't want to piss any white people off...pissing off the Asians was fine I guess. It's ok, you rear-ended my car (case and point, bam), so we're sort of even.

Anyway, you're smart people, so you get what I'm laying down. Basically, the Youngin' (a.k.a. Pippi) is a little weakling, but she is a terrier, so she has some fire/spunk/personality. Therefore, you'd think she'd be able to get through a 20 minute walk with a little excitement and pizzaz and show a little damn appreciation for the person walking her. 

No no no. Not in Pippi's book. I might as well be walking a decrepit 15 year old pug...or a dog with a serious case of mono. It looks like I'm torturing her by making her do the worst thing in the world. It's like I told her right before the flipping walk, "when we get home, I'm not going to feed you, and bonus, I'm also going to kill every chameleon in the state of Florida so that I can take away the one thing you love the most in life".  

That's what it looks like. In actuality, I'm obviously doting (get it yet Steve?) over her, singing her sweet nothings, coddling her, picking her up at random so that she gets to take a break from such an unusual and cruel form of punishment, etc.

Now, she does get hot easily (she's like a little furnace), and she has a thin trachea...so, to her credit, with lots of walking in warm weather, she does have breathing trouble. But, these aren't really excuses given that I'm not making her walk a marathon in 90 degree heat. 

So, what gives? She never used to be quiiiite this bad before. I mean, she was always kind of a little fickle pants, but never to this extreme. I'm dog sitting this weekend, and Pippi has been living with my parents in The Villages while I live in St. Pete. Therefore, I have no say anymore over how spoiled she gets. Welllllll, here is why she seemed extra bad:

Oooooooooh, well, excuuuuuuuse me! Now she's accustomed to and prefers walks at fancy pants recreation centers (like Seabreeze and Lake Miona), so neighborhood walks are no longer on par with her high levels of expectation. 

O-M-G! Really?!? Really? Really?