Thanks a lot, Mother Nature...

It's raining.

I *know* the midwest needs rain. It's been like 50 bazillion degrees for like 8 years straight. We NEED rain. My poor plants need it. I'm a lazy plant owner, and they're needy plants.

I digress.

I need to go run. I have to go run. I skipped my run on Thursday, so I need to run today and tomorrow, so I don't lose my momentum.

But it's raining.

I either need to buck up and go run in the rain, or just go do my weekly grocery shopping. I need to stop sitting here like a punk, procrastinating on Blogger, instead of making this decision.

Ok. For reals. I'm leaving.

Rain, sprinkles, and reusable grocery bags--

Running is hard.

DUH.

I knew this. I've always known this. So WHY WHY WHY do I think that I should be able to hop on the trail and run like it's the only thing my chubby legs have ever wanted to do?!

Probably because I'm stupid.

I logged about 2 miles of walking/sprinting today... Mostly walking, with a little sprinting. I must admit that my new, fitted-to-me running shoes are pretty much awesome. Like, glitter and unicorn farts awesome. I don't get crippling cramps, my feet don't hurt, and so far... No knee pain! WHAT?! YES! No knee pain. That's a first.

However... I think my body is engineered wrong for running. Seriously, I do. I find myself thinking about what my feet and ankles are doing... And man, they do some weird shit when I run. My feet don't land right... I don't feel like my stride is normal at all. My feet strike the ground at a weird spot... Not really my heel, but not the arch either. Skip makes fun of the way I run on the regular... He's like, "You run loud." Thanks, dude. Appreciate the observation.

But yea. My feet an' junk... They just don't do what they're probably supposed to do. So I spend most of the time I'm walking/running/flailing trying to figure out WTF my feet are doing. And I try to focus on planting my feet "correctly"... Which feels weird, and probably hinders any kind of progress. But nothing feels right. I'm not a runner... I'm a wanna-be.

I've also decided that Gatorade is God's gift to me, and it makes my walks/runs more bearable. Seriously. I drank the stuff on the walk where I killed my phone, and it was like, the easiest most wonderful walk ever. Yeah, like, glitter and unicorn farts. So now I don't go without my Gatorade... And so far, every walk since that one as been amazing. Maybe it's just the clever marketing, but I seriously believe it. Although, I'd probably drink dog pee if someone told me it would turn me into an athlete. IJS.

Wedding planning is chugging along like the Little Engine That's Sucking Up My Money Could. I've got a phone consultation set up with the cupcake (!!!) baker, a tentative appointment with a dress shop to press my dress for cheap once I get down there, and a list of websites where I can order all kinds of stuff I need on the cheap. Cheers to that! I have about 18 more phone calls to make, and clearly I'm making good use of my time by blogging about it.

Procrastination at it's best.

Milo is doing well, besides having "rocks in his weiner", as Skip says. They're not actually in his weiner... They're in his bladder. If they move to the weiner, that's bad news bears. Anyways, he's a happy little pup, and is totally soaking up all the love and attention and extra crap he gets to eat because he's "sick." Which basically consists of various different things I can hide his antibiotics in, because the vet thought it would be a good idea to give him horse pills. They're enormous, and Milo likes to spit them out like a jerk.

Roxy is a little jealous, but seriously when is she not? I've promised her a "mommy-daughter day" on Tuesday while he's in surgery... We're going to get her nails clipped. She is going to flip her shit. Sorry, little lady. Your nails are 18 feet long, and I don't own a muzzle and a straight jacket to keep you from biting my face off. That's why I pay the groomer $15 to do it for me.

We're also gonna go get ice cream. Mostly because I want ice cream.

Okay, I really need to cut this off right now, and get something accomplished today. The house is a mess, I have people to call, and blogging isn't gonna get shit done.

PEACE.

--Malaya

Mayday, mayday!

Skip came home earlier than I expected him to last night... Which was cool and all, I like seeing his face. I was sprawled out on the floor with a pile of our wedding invitations, slapping stamps on the outer envelopes. I was watching some chick show on TLC, the dogs were napping... A little moment of peace, if you will.

And then, he dropped a bomb. It went a little something like this:

Skip- "Oh yea, so, Mom called me today."
Me- "Oh? How's Mom? Busy working and stuff?"
Skip- "Her and Bill are gonna be here tomorrow night. They're staying with us."
Me- *deer in headlights face*
Skip- "I think they're bringing Joseph." (Grandkid)
Me- *freak out face"
Skip- "Oh, and their 2 yorkies."
Me- *omg dogs face*
Skip- "And maybe Brendan too... I don't remember." (Other grandkid)
Me- *PANIC FACE*

I instantly dropped the pile of envelopes, grabbed a bottle of some obscure cleaning supply and got to work. Skip started laughing uncontrollably. I threw dirty socks at him. I stripped the sheets off the bed, sprayed the tub with Tilex, and started wiping down all the flat surfaces that collect dust. Fired up the washer and the dryer. Then I started cooking dinner.

At some point, in the midst of cooking said dinner, Skip's mom called him. And told him they weren't going to be staying with us. They're getting a hotel down the highway from us. *slight relief face* They are bringing the grandkids and both dogs. I'm still not clear as to whether or not we're dog-sitting for them. *slight panic face*

The apartment isn't in bad shape, per se, but it's the first time they've seen our place... So I'm feeling kind of pressured. I feel like I need to prove myself as a worthy housewife... I can't let her think her son is marrying a slob, can I? Heck no! I'm a clean-freak with a slight case of organizational OCD. I need to make sure she knows this the instant she enters our abode.

At least they're not staying with us... There's a big difference between "people staying here"-clean and "people just visiting"-clean. I don't have to scrub down every single square inch of my bathroom. I don't have to make sure every single speck of dust is eradicated. They'll only be there for a short visit, and hopefully they won't be inspecting the place with a magnifying glass. *fingers-crossed face*

In other news... My weight loss adventure is going quite well. I've lost 23 pounds since March 1st. That's pretty big, right? I'm noticing it in little places... My jeans are looser, my shirts fit better, I'm starting to get my hip bones and collar bone back... I have a long way to go until I reach my Ultimate Goal Weight, but you gotta start somewhere. I tried my wedding dress on yesterday, and it's feeling loose... So maybe I'll be a skinny lady come October.

Everything else in life is going good... Job is good, Skip is good, dogs are (cute) good, Jeep is good... Wedding planning is good... Money is... Not plentiful enough, but weddings kind of suck the money out of your bank account. I'm definitely looking forward to getting this party over with, so I can have my paycheck back.

Toodles!

--Malaya

Here, birdie birdie birdie...

My spiffy new bird feeder has been up for 2 whole days... And not a single bird has visited it. There are birds near it, in the tree... And some under it, since I scattered some seeds around... But not one single bird has perched upon the feeder to get seeds. What gives??

A Google search of "how to attract birds to bird feeder" really didn't bring any useful results. The only advice I found that may apply would be to install a bird bath... Or some other source of fresh water. But... I'm really pushing my luck by getting the feeder, so I'm not sure how Skip would react to a fancy bird bath showing up at the apartment. Heh. But perhaps I'll try a shallow dish of water?

I'm also trying to pick out a new blog theme, since the one I'm currently using bores me to tears. But sifting through these "free theme" sites is really not my idea of a good time. None of the ones I have found seem to fit my blog. They're either too cutesy or too professional, and some just don't make sense. (Aliens? Ninjas?) I typically have zero patience for this kind of thing, so this is really killing me. Would any of my faithful readers (all four of you!) like to redesign my blog for me? Pretty please??

...I won't hold my breath.

In other news... The scrapbook is coming along quite nicely. I did several pages yesterday, and I'm relatively pleased with them. Well, except for the page on zebras, because I really had no decent pictures to use. Zebras are hard to photograph. The entire living room floor is covered in paper and pictures and other little embellishments... Which is fine, because we don't actually have living room furniture. It's nice to see something other than just empty space. I think I tell Skip at least twice a day that I can't wait for the day when we don't have to move, and we can have a house or apartment full of furniture and belongings... Rather than furniture made of stacked plastic totes and bare walls.

On that note... I really need to get something accomplished today.

--Malaya

First Day of Spring, First Snowman Ever.

You read that correctly, folks! It's the first day of Spring, and I, at age 23, have just constructed my first snowman... EVER. I know! Epic.

Here he is! His name is Earl:


Other than snow and snowmen... Nothing is going on. LOL Pryor is more or less the most boring place on the planet, and I live an equally boring day-to-day life. Hence the reason I don't post new entries very often. Ok, I can't say that with a straight face. The truth is, I really procrastinate with these entries. I start one, wait about a week, then come back and delete the draft and try to start over. I love writing, but these blog entries are like those stupid 5 paragraph essays from school. It's monotonous.

And I really don't have anything interesting to write about. HAH.

Making muffins is still happening... I guess that's kind of exciting? I've come across some really tasty recipes, and they've been a hit with the guys at work. I love baking... It's really a theraputic type of thing for me. I like making the things I cook look really appetizing... Like decorating my muffins with just the right amount of chopped/sliced nuts, and a sprinkle of coarsely ground sugar. I like how they look when they're all done. Maybe I should be a food stylist when I grow up?

Nah. I'd much rather make a living making cupcakes. Seriously. If I could figure out how to make cupcakes into a lucrative career, I'd be on that like white on rice. If I could combine my love of cupcakes, shopping, puppies, and scrapbooking into one super-mega-career, I'd be set. But I'm thinking all of those things combined might be a disaster. But the cupcakes... I need to make that happen. If anyone has a couple thousand George Washington's they'd like to loan me to get this going, that'd be super.

OH. I also entered into this NCAA bracket thing with Skip and the guys at work... Where you pick which basketball teams are gonna win and stuff. I put in two brackets at $5 apiece... And I'm doing pretty good, all things considered. (And by "all things" I mean the fact that I don't really follow college basketball AT ALL. lolz) I'm actually kind of into it... Well, not the games, per se... But just the outcome. I love checking the ESPN ScoreCenter app on my phone to see how many wins I got. It's so satisfying to highlight the teams that won, and scratch out the ones that lost. That, and I really like repeating the name, "Gonzaga." GON-ZAAAAAH-GAAAAAH. Heh.

I'll leave you now with some snow-y snapshots... Hurrah!

--Malaya