Love/Hate Relationships

I had three goals for myself for the month of January since I was going to have more free time without any grad classes (Second semester starts in February). The first was to write an exorbitant amount of terribly witty blogs for my undying fans. The second was to sew a new swanky wardrobe with the new sewing machine my parents gave me for Christmas. The third was to get my scrapbook up to date on the vacations that Troy and I took. As you can see this is only my fifth blog for the month. I did take out my sewing machine and read the instruction manual cover to cover, but not even a stitch was sewn. And I did make some progress on the scrapbook, although I am still a whole year behind. So, basically, I am 0 for 3.

January was a month of reflection for me as I reveled in the time sans text books, research papers and lesson plans. I did think a lot about topics to write about for Nonsense. Though many of my ideas are still peculating, I do have one thought that may be refined enough to tide you over. This month I realized that I there are things in life that I love and hate at the same time. I call them, my Love/Hate Relationships.

This idea first came to my mind a couple of weeks ago. I was all snuggled in my warm bed, relaxing under the weight of the blankets and thinking to myself that I am so in love with this moment right now. I let the weight of the day sink into my mattress and rested my head carelessly on my Martha Stewart feather pillow. I realized that this moment would be fleeting. In what would feel like mere minutes, my alarm clock would be calling out to me, forcing me to greet the day. That was when I realized that I loved and hated that moment all at once. I loved how comfortable and quiet it was, but hated how short it would feel when the early morning alarm went off.

My next example takes you down a rabbit hole, but stay with me. I was casually looking at my rear end in the mirror, when I noticed that it didn't look quite so bumpy or gross as I last remembered. I will be honest in telling you that I may have lingered a longer glance than was necessary, but I felt like there was a noticeable difference. I had read in a magazine that if you rub lotion in a circular motion, it helps to reduce the appearance of cellulite. I thought it was a bunch of baloney at first but figured, why not give it a try. Fast forward to my derriér stare. My first thought as I looked in the mirror was, "Hmm, I guess that lotion rubbing really works." I am sure it didn't have anything to do with the endless squats, lunges and miles I have run for the past six months. The next time I was doing my lunges after my epiphany, I found my next Love/Hate Relationship. Squats and lunges. They destroy me. There are mornings that I have a hard time getting out of bed after a lower body workout. But my butt doesn't lie, therefore I also love them.

Reality T.V. has got to be the world's best example of a love/hate relationship. As I am typing, Jersey Shore keeps flashing me and I have a cramp in my neck from craning my head every few minutes to catch a glimpse. Am I slowing lowering my intelligence by watching this program? Most definitely. Will that stop me from finishing the episode? Probably not. Reality T.V. is taking over our minds. Whether you're addicted to the Bachelor, Kate plus 8, Sarah Palin's Alaska or American Idol, you love it. But isn't there a small part of you that also hates it at the same time? While you are sitting on your rump watching the boob-tube, everyday people are being filmed for television. Love/Hate Relationship.

So there you go. Love/Hate Relationships are those things you love and hate at the same time. You're welcome for that. Post your own Love/Hate Relationships. If you wanna . . . or don't. I'll probably Love/Hate them.

Minnesota Frump

When I was younger I had zero fashion sense. I hesitate in showing this picture because once something is uploaded on to the internet, it is out there forever, but for you to truly understand what I was working with, I had to post this embarrassing picture of myself in junior high school. Because I am not brave enough to stand up to the ridicule alone, my sister Laura is also in this picture. (Sorry Laura.) Regardless of her red-on-red ensemble, she did have a decent since of fashion considering this picture was taken circa 1995.

Look at me. First of all, I look like a boy which is never good, secondly between my braces and glasses I have more metal on my face than a Buick LaSabre, I am wearing an over-sized jean jacket and yes, that is a Santa Sweatshirt with matching sweatpants I am sporting. Thankfully when I got to high school, I started to care a little more about how I was presenting myself and college refined my look so now when I go out into public, I no longer scare small children or get mistaken for the opposite gender.

These fashion faux-pas are a huge reason why I have generally placed fashion over common sense in my young adult life. These are the reasons why I am constantly paranoid I am dressing like a "mom." For years I refused to own a pair of snow boots because I would rather have my frost-bitten toes jammed inside a pair of cute and dainty flats than warm and toasty clod-hopper-boots. I didn't wear stocking caps because quite frankly, they tend to look like male contraceptives on my head. I would often get reprimanded by mother-figures where I worked and one time was even threatened with a call home to my mom about my lack of precaution in the winter months.

However, living in Minnesota for five years of my post-college-life has me changing my view point and focusing more on common sense. This also has me feeling very frumpy. I am finding that I don't have much of a choice in the matter any more. These past couple of weeks have been so cold, with wind chills below zero. That combined with the fact that the Twin Cities had a record snowfall of over 30 inches for the month of December makes one want to bundle up. It also makes one feel like Ralphie's brother in A Christmas Story where you can't put your arms down. My friend Lisa and I took a picture where we are all bundled up. Though my countenance looks proud, I am absolutely not. I am . . . Minnesota Frumpy. High School Pam would be mortified by this picture. Although, she probably would have keeled right over to know that I had posted Junior High Pam on the internet.

All this to say that I think I might actually be a real adult now. I think this to be true because I am crossing over into the dark side. The side that cares more about dry feet and warm appendages rather than walking out to your car looking cute. I am starting to embrace the Minnesota Frump as common place and the norm for my everyday winter wardrobe . . . but I don't have to like it.

Dear Dunkin Donuts

Dear Dunkin Donuts,

As I sit on my couch this morning, I am savoring a cup of freshly brewed Dunkin Donuts coffee that my handsome husband so kindly purchased for me at CostCo. I am also being bombarded by the seemingly ubiquitous commercials that claim your franchises are close to my habitat. Alas, when I did a store search, I could not find a beloved DD within 50 miles. After I wept bitterly, I pulled myself together and did a little more soul searching. I found that there are plans of expanding your vast empire into the land of snow and cold that was perhaps overlooked due to its close proximity to Canada. 'Tis true, Minnesota is in fact part of the Midwest and we demand to be added to your 2,600 stores especially since you have infiltrated 30 countries. (Sigh . . . those lucky lands . . . )

Is it a crime that there are so many patrons who want to give you their money for a cup of your delicious, French Vanilla coffee with extra cream and two Splenda (that is a completely hypothetical coffee order)? Is it wrong that there are folks who have tasted the nectar of the gods and only desire to drink deeply from their coffee pots? I say nay!

So tease us no more with you coffee commericals! Give us a Dunkin Donuts store . . . . preferably on my way to work. America runs on Dunkin and I am an American!

Sincerely,
Pambo Jones

5-Hour Energy

Today was my first day back to work after the Christmas break. This morning, I was surprised at how alert I was considering the cats kept me up all night. I think that one of them was on duty at all times to make sure that Troy and I wouldn't dash off on another vacation. I also think that they needed to make sure that it was actually Troy and I sleeping in our bed and not a couple of posers. I think these things to be true because they both walked over me all night or took up all the valuable foot room. Anywho, I was feeling pretty good for most of the day, until about noon when I hit a wall. I think I could have slept standing up. (I may or may not have mastered the art of sleeping sitting up straight during our many car rides over the holiday. The only hint I give you when I am sleeping is the fact that my mouth is gaping open, catching flies. Since many people comfortable sit/stand with their mouth completely wide open, I am sure it would be hard for you to tell that I am in fact sleeping.)

This lack of energy really had me jonesing for a Dunkin Donuts coffee, unfortunately, there are not any in Minnesota, nor would I have been able to leave my students long enough to get one. (Sigh) Lately I have seen commercials for the 5-Hour Energy Drink. I am very curious to know how it works. To be honest, it kind of freaks me out. It is a small bottle, like one of those small bottles of adult spirits you can purchase for an exorbitant amount of money in a mini bar. How can the the contents in that small bottle give you enough energy for five hours . . . legally? Troy and I were commenting on how we are too nervous to try it. I am fairly certain that if I were to consume that teeny beverage, my heart would explode. This fear hinders me from a taste test.

I googled (don't you just love how that is a verb now?) the ingredients of this drink and found a website that informed me that 5-Hour Energy is mostly charged with vitamins and of course caffeine, it did however, come with a list of side effects. One being a rash from too much vitamin B3, possible paralysis from an overdose of B6, not to mention the possibilities of vomiting, disorientation, nausea, panic attacks, involuntarily shaking and an irregular heart beat from the amount of caffeine in the product. And if that isn't enough to worry you, they also have 5-Hour Energy Extra for extra yaking purpose.

While those side effects sound like a smashing, good time, I think I will pass. Alas, I am not a risk takers when it comes to 5-Hour Energy. I would rather sip on a large, Dunkin Donuts, French Vanilla coffee with extra cream and two Splenda to get my energy. The way God intended it.

Blubber

The winter holidays are officially over. My parents started putting some of the Christmas decorations away, the New Years Eve party plates were cleaned up and the Carlson Duo (Troy and me) are getting ready to return to the Twin Cities after a nice long vacation with family. That basically translates into me being a hot mess while driving away from my parents' house. I knew it was coming, I mean the holidays can't last forever, but every time I leave their house, I am a blubbering fool.

This entire trip has been a fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants kind of trip as far as planning goes, which is actually kind of unusual for us. So, when my mom asked me this morning what our plans were for today, it was a valid question. It was also the kind of question that makes me aggressively clear my throat multiple times as I try to contain the tears that are threatening to spill over because the answer to her question is that we are leaving soon. My family knows how I operate. All at once I started hearing words of encouragement - with the exception of Laura's boyfriend whom I probably made very uncomfortable but probably was not surprised due to the similarities that Laura and I share in the emotional department.

"Eric and I will come up and visit sometime in February!! That is right around the corner!" Laura said.
"Dad, Beck and I are going to plan a trip up next time Rebecca has a long weekend off from school! Won't that be fun?!" My mom offered.
"If we have snow, you can come back for Presidents' Day and go snowmobiling!" My dad suggested.

Though these are great offers, they didn't stop the tears and I quickly hugged my family and left before my blubbering got out of control. Then I cried all the way to the Carlson's house where we were spending the day before trekking back up north. Thankfully, I have an understanding husband who lets me cry and pats my leg as I try to inconspicuously try to dab at my eyes, collecting the rogue tears who escaped.

I have heard the phrase that families are like fish, after a few days they start to stink. Sometimes that is true. Sometimes going home can be hard for me because after all, I am a grown up now and I do things my own way at home and have to have my whole motherboard reprogrammed when I go back home. But then things start to fall into place and new patterns start - thus cue me crying about not being able to drink my Dunkin Donuts coffee with my mom and Laura in the mornings.

I guess the moral of the story is that no matter how old you get, sometimes all you want is your mom and dad. In the spirit of trying not to dwell on what is over, I am going to take this opportunity to comment on some personal highlights of our Christmas vacation:

1. Troy's parents gave us the whole Willow Tree nativity set which I am thinking about setting up for the month of January just because I love it so much.

2. Laura and I started saying, "Yak!" every time we thought something was disgusting. The correct way to perform this is to lean over and pretend to yak while you say "yak." It's funny.

3. Mama K and Fussy Pops gave me a sewing machine for Christmas. I am already envisioning my new fall line.

4. I laughed so hard at Troy while we were at the cabin that I keeled over in the hallway. Complete loss of motor functions.

5. Wings Etc.

6. Hitting up Kalamazoo. Yes, there really is a Kalamazoo. Every time I am there, I think of Tim Allen, one of many reasons why I love that town.

7. Playing Speed Scrabble with Mom and Dad and adding new words to my lexicon that my dad made up.

8. Golf cart rides around the lake.

9. Melissa Mladinic.

10. Enjoying the use of a shower that is no farther than four feet from our room. This one is huge, we are already spoiled to this luxury.