Things on my Mind

Let me start off by saying that I love and trust the Lord. I am completely aware that He, in His infinite wisdom, knows far more about the way of things than I do but... cockroaches, seriously?!? I've been thinking about what their purpose could possibly be. There are many creepy animals who have a clear purpose--spiders for example. They mostly leave people alone (unless you're in the Forbidden Forest or playing Jumanji--in both cases, I'm sorry to say, the blame lays entirely with you) AND they control certain bug populations by eating them and also spell things in their webs for little pigs. But cockroaches. Why are they here? What do they do? Except, of course, fall on the heads of unsuspecting young women who are trying to have romantic twilight walks with their sweethearts. But that hardly constitutes a reason for existence. I suppose this will remain one of life's great mysteries..

Nervous Nellie

Nik’s first Spring Training game is this weekend. THIS WEEKEND. As I’ve considered this and the fact that the season is starting in three weeks, that familiar baseball-related anxiousness has started creeping back into my life.

There are a lot of things about this lifestyle that I’ve pretty well mastered. Staying calm during games is not one of them. Which is ironic considering that Nik is completely the opposite-cool as a cucumber (today is old woman phrase day—don’t worry about it) and completely in control.

Oh, but one of us has to be a basket case, right? And better me than him, right? I mean, if you really focused in on the crowd, I’m positive you could pick me out during any of Nik’s starts. I make almost no noise—polite clapping at the end of each half inning and slightly less than polite clapping (relief clapping is what it is) at the end of each outing. So you’ll have to use a keen eye, but it can be done.

You see, I will be the one whose knees are shaking fast enough to convince those around me I have an irreparably advanced case of Restless Leg Syndrome. I will also be the one wincing randomly. And, of course, the one muttering slightly under my breath, sending my husband soft messages of encouragement that he cannot hear and that he would ignore if he could. Or else, I’m the one with both hands covering my mouth so that those nearby cannot tell that I am muttering slightly under my breath. I like to believe the hands over the mouth make me seem less crazy but it’s probably a tossup.

And so it is. Another season of baseball games begins. Another season of weekly panicking and many opportunities for me to look like an over caffeinated mental patient. Let’s play ball!

Random Musings

Payday
The first unmarked envelope filled with $100 bills arrived. Baseball season and its accompanying sketchiness have officially begun.

New Tunes
Okay, I’m kind of scared to say this—if you have younger, “hip” siblings you understand why. They’ve basically bullied me into never revealing songs or artists I like because they always respond with “that song is sooo old.” Conversation over. But I just like this song so much I can’t help myself. It’s called “Somebody I Used to Know” by Gotye. Have you heard it? Am I so late?

Hot Water Drought Update
Our hot water worked perfectly for exactly twenty four hours. Now it’s hot for about five minutes before turning to something I would classify as almost lukewarm. The maintenance man and his supervisor were supposed to come by this morning to verify (this is 100% true) that the problem is with our water heater nipples. I am officially tired of this adventure.

Hope everyone is LOVING spring training:)

The Great Hot Water Drought of 2012

It all started Thursday night. My poor husband, not unused to random screaming from myself, was treated to a “there’s a flying roach in my room/I’m being attacked by a big, scary man (pretty sure it would be the same level of screaming for both events)” decibel yell when the water hit my leg.

I asked him to call the apartment complex. He got on the phone, paused, looked at me and asked if it was an emergency. Ummm yeah! We have no hot water. What part of that is NOT an emergency?

Fast forward to Friday when I get home and realize that we still have no hot water. I call again and am told that the maintenance people are “busy.” Woooowww. I’m busy too—busy stinking because I CAN’T TAKE A SHOWER!!! No one shows up that day either, and I’m a little bit testy when I call (for the third time) the next day.

So I tell Nik, prepare to be frightened, I am gonna let whoever answers the phone have it. To which Nik he nods while giving me a look like he knows what’s really going to happen. Because, here’s the thing, I don’t particularly enjoy being mean to people whether they deserve it or not. One of my most used, least acted upon phrases is “I am going to make a scene.” This never happens, but Nik is wise enough to not invite himself to partake in the wrath of the hot water-less crazy girl stomping around the living room.

So I call and when this sweet, young girl answers I say sort of sternly that they need to send someone from maintenance NOW. I then explain the situation and use the word NOW again to further make my point. She asks me to hold and comes back with the number for the maintenance man who shows up and tells us that we need a part, but, you see, the part people are only open Monday-Friday so no hot water until Monday afternoon.

Well, Nik braved the elements and had himself a little polar bear dip Sunday. I was half asleep, half awake for this little adventure but did manage to notice that he was in there for a very long time considering the temperatures. Come to find out, he had spent about 45 seconds in the shower and the rest of the time mentally preparing for it.

(My parents were out of town so I showered there Saturday and Sunday-- just so you don’t think I’m completely disgusting.)

Anyway, the guy came back Monday afternoon with our part and voila! We have hot water again. Woo! And so concluded the Great Hot Water Drought of 2012.

The Day of Love

[Please don’t judge me. Everyone’s weird, just ask Hanson-bonus points if you know what that means.]

I thought long and hard about what direction I should take with this post. Nik and I’s relationship story? Our first kiss? Best romantic movies? Most romantic places? I decided to go in a completely different direction, by declaring my love for… Peeta Mellark.

I just finished reading the Hunger Games series, can you tell? If you haven’t read it, trust me: Peeta is the perfect guy*, which may or may not have something to do with the fact that he’s a fictional character.

So, as I started down this train of thought about how dreamy Peeta was and how I’d let you in on my love for him, I decided to do some research. I googled (Google=research) Peeta Mellark fan sites. Actually, I’m so embarrassed of myself that I googled Peeta Mellark and was relieved when one of the choices Google put forth ended in fan sites so I didn’t actually have to type it in and feel like the creep I am.

So I went to the first or second site that popped up. I think it was called Peeta Makes Bread (he’s a baker’s son in the books-cute!). So I’m checking it out seeing what they have when I come to a section where the people that follow the site can tell about themselves.

Oh.My.Heavens.

One of them began “Dragons. Dragons. Dragons. I love dragons!” and I thought what have I done? Am I now officially one of those semi-deranged megafans who troll the fan sites of made-up people? That sounds so judgmental. I mean, are we really so different, “I prefer to be called gothic because it’s much more 18th century than goth” girl and I?

My first instinct is to frantically scream YES! But you know what? It’s the day of love and if you love Peeta Mellark then we’ve already got something pretty special (and slightly strange) in common.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

*Except he’s blond. SO not my thing.

Fit for a Princess

Yesterday Nik’s sister texted to tell him that while she was looking through our wedding pictures with our two-year old niece she pointed to me and asked Bella who it was. Her response? Princess Tiana. Kids are the best :)

I see some resemblance. Eh?

One of Those Days

Do you ever have one of those afternoons where you look at the clock and it's 3:00 and you think I can do this? So you decide to busy yourself with some interesting endeavor. And you suck all of the fun and interestingness out of said endeavor and, feeling quite pleased with yourself and your time-using ability, you look at the clock only to discover it's 3:06.

My friends, oh has it been one of those days. Loverboy was so right--everybody really is working for the weekend. ((TGIF)).