I’ve also been on a few dates, which is pretty epic in and of itself.

I’m a bit buzzed, so I’ll keep this relatively brief. My holiday was good. I got some fantastic Christmas presents and we all know I’m capable of having myself a Merry Little Christmas. New Years tends to make me a cranky bitch, which is no fun. After a brief misstep this evening (AKA driving up to Ann Arbor for no particular reason) I’m home, in my jammies and eating thai and drinking champagne. Exactly where I want to be.

2011 was a rough year for pretty much everyone, but I can’t help but think that things will get better or just a little bit easier. My 2011 wasn’t terrible, but I can do without a surgery next year. It sort of messed with my head more than I’d like. I’d also like to ask that my shaky essential tremor doesn’t get too much worse. It sort of freaks me out.

On the other hand, my family is healthy, happy and still employed, which is so much more than others here in Michigan.

Happy New Years Everyone. Look how far we’ve come. And we’re all in it together.

I spent last night with my ballroom friends as well as some friends from high school. It was a bit of an epic quest to see the friends from high school, but it was worth it once we got together. The only downside is that I didn’t get home until 2 am, which means I didn’t sleep as much as I would like. On the upside, I took my first Beta Blocker (for my tremor) and it already seems to have helped. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, maybe it’s the placebo effect, I don’t care. It’s fantastic and I don’t want it to stop.

We’ve been spending our day preparing for the inevitable hoard of people that is coming to our house tomorrow. It’s quite the shake up for us, having an extra 20 or so people around. Our life is pretty quiet here (just the three of us) and it sort of is overwhelming when they all come. I love my family, don’t get me wrong, but come 7:30, 8 o’ clock I am very much “I love you-now get out.”

I’m also here to tell you that I have a new love in my life, and it is Gwenyth Paltrow‘s cookbook. I got it as a present for my birthday and it has turned me into a cooking maniac. Every recipe has been fantastic, I’m sitting here, staring at some vegan brownies that are so chocolate-y that it’s almost driving me crazy to not cut into them this second. The holidays make me want to cook and bake and share with everyone. Tomorrow will just mean that I do that all the more.

It’s just 558 minutes away (come posting time)

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Earlier this year I went to my original doctor, because I got back on my awesome Mom’s health insurance (and man alive, is it the shit).
Anyway-
I got back on my Mom’s health insurance and proceeded to call every doctor I could think of saying “Yo-methinks it’s time to slice and dice or whatever it is you peoples do”, and we all got down to business.

This story, by the way, is what led to the epic surgery of June 2011 (otherwise known as Man My Neck Hurts-No, I Can’t Look Up).

I went to my primary care doctor in preparation for the Epic Surgery of 2011, and mentioned that my left hand tends to shake sometimes. And when it shakes, I can’t pour stuff, I can’t do things and it’s generally a pain in my ass. I can’t help but be annoyed-I’m 25 (24 at the time) and my left hand has the potential to be fucking useless.
So I make a bit of a deal out of this, hoping he’ll listen and go “Huh-that’s weird. We should look into that!”

Needless to say, he didn’t. His exact words?
“Huh…that’s odd.”
And nothing more.

So I left thinking that is was fucking weird (and annoying) and that I should do my best to avoid doing stuff with it. For the record-that’s really hard.

I then spent the next…10 months living and attempting to avoid the use of my left hand, failing miserably, spilling shit and being annoyed by it. I tried to make a follow up appointment with my doctor and he was all “MAN-whatever. Lose weight?” (because I’m also fat, in case you were curious).

This left me in a bit of a state-I was slightly off my rocker and got around to switching my primary doctor.

Best. Idea. Ever.

This new dude is chill, he’s nice, he  didn’t call me fat AND he listened to me! I told him all about my horrible horrible hand and he did a few quick neurological test things and said “Huh. That is peculiar.”
He didn’t leave it there though-Oh No-this dude is a ninja doctor.
He goes on to tell me that he’s going to pull my bloodwork and do some background reading on like, everything that has ever been done to me (which is quite the tome) and then we’re going to formulate a game plan.
Like. A. Boss.

While he thinks it’s just an essential tremor (which is still pissing me off), he listened! And we have a plan! AND he says that should he call me this week, I’ll know that it’s bad…! (that last one isn’t the best, but I appreciate his honesty and the fact the HE LISTENED)

So in conclusion-
Best. Doctor. Appointment. Ever.

That being said-I’m so effing glad this semester is done. I have no interest in being helpful and I really just want to turn my brain off for a few weeks.

Christmas is coming again up here and we bought a tree that is bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. I’ll have a photo for the next entry.
We went up to our tree farm the day after Thanksgiving, like we always do, and proceeded to cut down a tree that they wouldn’t put through the bailer.
We’ve never not had a tree go through the bailer.
My dad got some of the young guys to help him tie it to the top of the car, and man did we need all the help we could get. While we were trying to maneuver the beast to the roof of the Explorer there were people taking photos on the other tractor and laughing. Pointing too, for that matter.

It was quite mortifying.

Despite the help of many kind strangers and some of the cute employees from the tree farm, we couldn’t get it tied to the top of the car. So what could we do?
We drove to the Home Depot, rented one of their hourly trucks, drove back to the tree farm and loaded the tree in there and then drove home. And then we returned the truck.

There was much less pointing and laughing and picture taking the second time we tried to take the tree home.

This is my attempt at getting back into the whole “blogging” thing. Get ready for holiday madness peoples-it’s coming.

No really.

Last Friday it was nearly 100 (or so it felt) and I sweated my way through the day. I had to hike to class from the middle of nowhere, which did nothing for my appearance. I say this because I have bangs now, and all of this weather isn’t doing anything for them. I’m not one of those stylish girls who can “do” their hair and then just…go. Instead I look just as hot as I feel. And while I don’t look at school as a fashion show, it would be nice to not look like I just ran a marathon.
For a change, that is.

But now it’s cold here. Like, maybe it hits 60-something during the day and it stays there. It’s sort of ridiculous. I didn’t get the memo today about it raining, which didn’t do anything for the fact that it was both cold and…wet. My hair looks like a drowned poodle and I’ve been dry since about 3:30 or so.
It took a lot of effort to get dry, for the record.

I’m not saying that I have to look like a model everyday. We all know it won’t happen.

I’d just really appreciate the opportunity to not look like a drowned poodle. I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble.

So my summer class came to an end and I got about two weeks off before heading back to school. I had class on Friday, which I found amazingly stupid.
I’m a nerd. I love school. But having class before Labor Day turns me into a whiny, petulant child who pitches fits and stamps her feet. I just can’t help but think that if those days were tacked on in December that no one would be upset-I could go to school until December 12 (as we now get out the 10th) and not feel as though my Christmas holiday had been intruded upon.

I also just generally dislike the first day of school in general. You sit around, wondering what everyone will be like and whether or not they’ll like you or if you already have a friend in that class and if you’ll still be friendly enough to sit next to one another.
Or something like that.

Needless to say, even though I only had one day of school this week, I was desperately ready for the weekend. And a three-day weekend at that.

I had to go to a funeral yesterday for one of my high school history teachers. His name was Dave Crawford, and he was wonderful. To say that his death came as a shock isn’t true, but it just is horrible. My high school is a super tight knit group, and things like the tend to send shock waves through all of us.

On an upside to end this info-dump on, I went to Office Max today and spent some time getting organizational stuff because I am a sucker for clean notebooks and post it notes.

Because we had floor seats for yet another NKOTBSB concert.
Yes, I know. Another. Our third, to be exact. We started innocently enough, but once we experience such unrestrained glee, we couldn’t even think of not experiencing that again. So that resulted in Chicago’s concert, and that turned into yet another road trip to Indianapolis.

Shara took fabulous photos. We were so close, and it’s safe to say that every single one of them is better looking up close and personal.

We had a pretty easy drive down, eating and listening to NKOTBSB the whole way. My mom was ensconced in the backseat, and Shara rode shotgun. There was plenty of Diet Coke for all.

We checked into the Westin, which was right downtown, at about 4 or 5 in the afternoon. My mom had a room to herself, and Shara and I were in a room. When we walked into our room it was blatantly obvious that someone had also just been there. They most likely had just checked out, and there were towels on the bed, dirty glasses on the bureau and even a glass in the bathroom with a half melted ice cube in it.
Needless to say, we switched rooms ASAP.

As my mom is Super Awesome Level at almost every hotel chain, we were able to get into the Westin Executive Club. The attendant guy was super friendly and helpful, and recommended a great place for dinner which was super close to the Conseco Fieldhouse (where the concert was).

I plan on inserting photos randomly to share the love. Also, how great is this face! I heart Brian.

We wandered over through the Skywalk thingy, which was great because we didn’t have to walk outside. Shara and I went to Wet Seal and bought more sequins and sparkles, as we felt vastly underdressed. My mother was a total enabler, and that made me giggle.

Shara, Mom and I went down to our fantastic floor seats and frankly, it was a bit of a heady feeling. I’ve never sat so close before (at any concert) and it was kind of thrilling in a weird way.
Then, the concert started. All of those boys (men?) came out and performed their asses off. It was hilarious because they do start the concert with some newer songs, most of which my mom didn’t know. And then I turn to her as the New Kids on the Block started “The Right Stuff” and she was all “THIS IS MY JAM”, singing along and dancing.
It made me smile.

This photo is saved as "hot nick". Need I say more?

What is fun to watch is the sheer joy that comes over the entire arena. Whether you’re there for the Backstreet Boys (who are all too good looking) or the New Kids On The Block (who are also too good looking), everyone is just so happy and gleeful and stoked to be there. It’s infectious.

There were a few highlights, like making googly eye contact with Nick Carter and then proceeding to squee like the 12-year-old girl I apparently am. I also received a fist bump from Donnie Wahlberg, and that was also a highlight of the show.

It’s also so refreshing to see the performers having such a good time. It was even more fun because they were having fun.
We also appreciated their need to thrust everything they could get their hands on, as well as run around shirtless. In fact, I applaud it.

It was a great trip because not only did I get to hang out with a best friend, I got to hang out with my mom outside of work, and she deserves every second she gets away from her computer.

The moral of this story is that it’s been a summer of ridiculousness, but there have been moments of such extreme joy that I smiled and laughed so hard that my cheeks hurt. I know I’m not doing a good job of talking about this concert, but I’ll leave you with a few photos and the thought that this was such fun that I can’t possibly forget. And that I am a 16 year old girl at heart, squeeing over boy bands and pop music forever.

I just love this picture.Seriously. So. Cute.

Image via Wikipedia- Nope. Not even for you, my love, will I willingly expose my feet.

Yesterday I met my friend Shara for lunch, and we hammered out our plans for our trip to Indianapolis. We (of course) are heading down there with my mom to go see NKOTBSB…
again…

Whatever, it is going to be mother effing awesome.

Backtracking to lunch-my friend Shara and I were eating lunch, and she mentions that she wanted to get herself a pedicure before she heads out of town (on a completely unrelated trip). I agreed to tag along, and the next thing I knew, I was getting a pedicure myself.

Now-I’m really not pro-foot. In fact, it might be safe to say that I’m really quite anti-foot. Not only do I not like my feet (I used to dance and my feet are awful) I don’t like your feet either. It’s nothing personal. I don’t like anyone’s feet. I’m certain if Johnny Depp, Matt Damon or whoever else I’m sort of in love with were to come up to me and say “Hey baby, can I give you a foot rub/you give me a foot rub?” I’d laugh hysterically before saying no.
To make a long rant short-I don’t like anyone’s feet. Ever.

This being said, the idea of me getting a pedicure was downright laughable. But as I’m always looking for A)Blog material, B)New experience and 3)The chance to be brave as I do said new experience, the time had come for me to suck it up and get a pedicure.

Some of the highlights included the nice warm foot bath, the giant cheese grater they pulled out to slough all the dead skin off my gross gross feet (something that tickled and I’m sure the employees were like “Whatever, sit still”), and the end result of the pretty color I chose.

I’m not sure it’s an experience I need to have frequently. The idea of them taking a cheese grater to my feet is sort of disconcerting. They also spent a lot of time shoving things between my toes, like foot files (or whatever they are), the thingy to separate your toes as they paint them, or even the towel to dry your feet off when the nice foot bath is finished. My sad little baby toes are incredibly curled under my other toes, and forcing them out and separated from the others was a weird enough feeling that I’m not sure I’ll repeat it anytime soon.

But, now I can say that I’ve had a pedicure, and that’s something I couldn’t say before.

Image by Steve Rhodes via Flickr

I have been going to the midnight showings of Harry Potter since I was…14 (or so). It is something that my mother and I have done together, and it’s a special moment. My friend Kaitlyn usually comes too, and it’s like the Three Musketeers, holding down the fort and watching our childhood go by.

This past Thursday was our last show. We obviously had midnight tickets to go see “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (part 2)” and we were excited. It was a bit of a bittersweet moment though, knowing it would be our last time getting to the theater far too early and hanging out together. My friend Shara came with us, and we had too much fun.
We got to the theater at 7:30 and we expected to eat dinner before the movie. Little did we know that our screen was open and people were already being seated. Not wanting to miss out on a good seat, the four of us wandered in and then went on the hunt for dinner. Kaitlyn, Shara and I went and ate at a nearby TGI Fridays. Our waitress was quite obliging in helping me pack a sandwich and fries for my mother, who was back at the theater, saving our seats (bless her heart).

We then ran to Target for cheaper candy and, in the case of Shara, to find Harry Potter accessories. She decided we weren’t “festive” enough, and I maintained we were. The three of us were wearing pants, which is more than I could say for many a girl at the theater. She ended up finding some glow in the dark wands, and even though I made fun of her as she bought them, they ended up being great fun.

We got back to the theater (and my hungry mother) at about 9 pm. She ate the sandwich I smuggled in, and we then began the long wait. This theater crowd was a lot less rowdy than others I had been with, which was nice. I think it’s because it’s the last midnight show, and we had all been there for so long.
Kaitlyn, Shara and I realized that our wands were basically the Hogwarts’ colors, and so we then started to sort everyone we knew into various Houses. My mom helped a bit, but she was playing Yahtzee on her Kindle, and was sufficiently entertained. Many people ended up in Hufflepuff, and a surprising number ended up in Slytherin. I put myself in Ravenclaw, which I found apt (nerds unite).

The movie started and after some screaming and whole lot of shushing, everyone cried and gasped and reacted appropriately. The Molly Weasley line of “Not My Daughter, You Bitch” was applauded with vigor, as well as the kiss between Ron and Hermione.

Who knew that Neville would not only grow up, but grow up to be totally hot and deliver the Hero Speech before killing the snake. Granted, things were changed from the books. Fine. Whatever. Neville is a BAMF, and I love that he runs off at one point to look for Luna, his one true love.

I also will admit here that I am a total sap, and cried like a baby throughout the movie. I started crying as the teachers’ and Order of the Phoenix members’ were putting up the protection around the school, and I think it’s because I knew what was coming. I had just re-read all 7 books and it was fresh in my mind.
I also lost it when Fred and George are standing together, being all twinly, and they go “Are you okay Freddy?” and the other one was “Yup, I’m good George”. It made knowing that Fred would die that much worse.
I cried harder when Snape died, mainly because it was so grisly and I’ve grown to love the Alan Rickman Snape. He’s sympathetic and simultaneously an ass, and yet not at all.
And then I cried so hard I couldn’t see the screen when they showed everyone laid out in the Great Hall, and you see not only Fred, but Remus and Tonks lying next to each other.
I really topped myself when Harry finds the Stone and sees his parents, Remus and Sirius. When he asks them if dying hurts and Sirius says that it’s quicker than falling asleep, I’m sort of shocked that I didn’t make the people around me uncomfortable because I was crying so hard.

Needless to say, I’m such an emotional sap.

I’m not sure what else to say, other than I thought it was more terrifying that Voldemort just faded away. The idea of him just floating away in the wind is really disconcerting to me for some reason.

I also love that not only did Neville grow up, he grew up to be totally hot. And a BAMF. He delivered his Hero Speech pretty well, and then delivered on that speech by killing the snake pretty BAMF-ly.

I think I cried so much because this is the last time I get to gather with others who love these books and movies as much and enjoy them together, for the first time. This has been a 10 year journey for all of us, and it’s hard to let go, even if we know it’s time. I direct you to a few thoughts from Cleolinda Jones, who sums things up far better than I ever could. I love her take on the epilogue, and I would add that it’s also there to let us know that we can get back on the train at Platform 9 and 3/4 anytime we’d like, because these books and movies will always be there for us to love.

In Conclusion-I love Harry Potter, I am going to miss the midnight shows, we got to the theater so early, Neville is a hot BAMF, Alan Rickman’s Snape slays me, I always love Groovy Dumbledore, and I am a sap.

This entry also took me forever to write, since I was all a-babbly about this whole thing. I just thought you should know.

So. Scroll back on your calendar to June 26, the day of the U2 concert, to find me and my parents at a pet adoption thing…for reasons unknown. We wandered around, I avoided the big barking dogs (irrationally) and we found a handful of kittens.
The next thing you know, I’m holding a kitten and petting it. Why?
Why not?

So after a lot of dithering (mostly by my mom, but my dad seriously contributed), we came home with a kitten.

Her name is Dash, as she spends a ton of time running (dashing) around the house like a maniac. Dad helped pick her out, as he said “Hey, you should get the slightly goofy looking cat”, and so we did. What is even funnier is that he sort of refuses to sit with her, but we don’t talk about that. I think it’s because she’s so little and he’s so big and he’s afraid of stepping on her.

This is usually how you see her, peering over things as she is about to get into something she shouldn’t. She is very sweet and adorable, and I love sitting with her. She’s a “people” cat, and that works out well. The other 3 old cats are getting used to her, bit by bit. She constantly wants to play and they…don’t. Things will even out eventually.

So there is Dash, our new little addition. Although she won’t be little for long.

And one last piece of excellent news-I am now the Grad Assistant for the Linguistics Department. It’s so exciting.