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2 things I did this week that got me (warranted) dirty looks

Tue, 14 May 2013 19:53:45 +0400

1) Went to a neighborhood tennis/basketball court to try out my new skates… with my DOG in tow. Right after I started rolling around, 4 actual tennis players came to play a game of doubles. Guy looks at me, I smile, he looks at dog, dirty look.

2) My mom called while I was waiting in line to get my cell phone plan changed. I told her I’d hang up when it was my turn, but I was too distracted to notice when my turn came up. Guy behind me says “IT’S YOU!”, I turn and apologize, dirty look.

American

Sun, 14 Apr 2013 17:13:01 +0400

Me: I'm going into the Gap, see you in there.
Simon: Nik wants to know why you call it The Gap.
Me: Ummmm, because that's what it's called.
Simon: No it's not, it's called Gap.
Me: No, it's THE gap, look at the sign on the wind... Oh. OH. So you just say, I'm going to Gap?
Simon and Nik: Yes.
Me: My mind was blown when I looked at the logo and it didn't have "the" in it.
Simon and NIk: Want to go to The Sephora? Want to go to The Ralph Lauren? Want to go to The Puma?

reasonsmysoniscrying: Buzz Lightyear’s knee is bent. Best...

Sat, 13 Apr 2013 06:16:19 +0400

reasonsmysoniscrying:

Buzz Lightyear’s knee is bent.

Best tumblr ever.

New resolution… Blog the things that make me laugh out...

Tue, 19 Mar 2013 13:11:57 +0400

New resolution… Blog the things that make me laugh out loud.

"…I find a naturalistic understanding of human nature to be indispensable to leading a wise and..."

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 15:57:37 +0400

“…I find a naturalistic understanding of human nature to be indispensable to leading a wise and mature life, and it is often exhilarating. Wisdom consists in appreciating the preciousness and finiteness of our own existence, and therefore not squandering it; of being cognizant of what makes people everywhere tick, and therefore enhancing happiness and minimizing suffering; of being alert to limitations and flaws in our own judgments and decisions and passions, and thereby doing our best to circumvent them. The exhilaration comes from understanding that we are a part of natural world; that deep mysteries can be explained; and that the world — including our own mental lives — can be intelligible, rather than a source of superstition and ignorance. Yes, mortality sucks, but given that it exists, I’d rather know that than be kept in a childlike state of delusion.”

- - Steve Pinker

Just reading through Pinker’s AMA and I love his response to a person who asked him if he thought his understanding of the human mind negatively affects his own happiness. How meaningful and intelligent and perfect.

Thinking about blogging this photo stopped me from having an...

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 22:12:00 +0400

Thinking about blogging this photo stopped me from having an absolute hysterically-laughing breakdown during a head massage in northern Vietnam.

Simon and I had just finished our two day trek in Sapa a couple of hours earlier. I was wearing nearly every article of clean clothing I had left (at the same time) in order to stay warm We were walking up this very steep hill back to our hotel and it was worse-than-Dubai foggy, or maybe we were literally in the clouds. The altitude made our breathing labored and I wrapped my giant shawl around my head and neck because my ears were cold. Because the hill was so steep, I had to lean heavily forward in order to maintain balance.

That’s when Simon stopped and said “You look like the old woman from Drag Me to Hell. I got to get a picture of this. Look at you, hunched over with that scarf around your head and your short pants with long socks.” Then he proceeded to take pictures of me and oh my god I do not remember ever having such a panic-inducing, weakening laugh fit before in my life. Breathing was ALREADY difficult. Laughing that hard made me sort of feel like I was going to suffocate, which I… found funny!

I have been victim to violent fits of inappropriate laughter most of my life. Once I read that if you need to stop a laugh attack, don’t think of something sad, think about something boring. A sad thing can be funny to a laughing person, but a boring thing is just boring. Since reading that as a middle-schooler some 15 years ago, I have pictured a single grey-blue button, like for a shirt, as my boring totem of anti-laughter. That damn button has helped me keep my cool every time I thought I was going to collapse laughing while people stared at me like I was a mental patient.

The endorphins from our hike and all that laughter, and the thin-ass air in the mountains made my button lose some of its power. Then actually funny things happened, like at the spa- hearing Simon start snoring during his massage and realizing that the conversation in Vietnamese between my hair treatment lady and his massage lady were likely about us. (“What horrible hair this giant lady has. Tsk.”) That made my button all but obsolete, for the first time in my life! I can’t even tell you how scared I was that I was going to start laughing uncontrollably during my head massage and how that would disturb everyone in the spa, which would surely make me laugh even harder.

So I just keep thinking Get through this Sheryn, you can do it! Get through it and you can take that stupid picture Simon took and you can blog about it and tell the world your story.

Thoughts

Thu, 03 Jan 2013 09:39:43 +0400

I am the maximum amount of stressed, and I think 95% of that stress is caused by the fact I’m stressed. Like, I had an unnaturally high stress reaction due to work things that weren’t even that stressful so now I’m stressed that I’m stressed. Because the last period of high-stress I faced made me break out horribly. It’s like when you try to force yourself to fall asleep because you NEED the rest. And now every little thing adds more stress and I feel insane. I’ve been doing jumping jacks in my office and can’t wait to get home tonight and go for a run and try to get rid of all this. It’s weird though, because I’m really happy right now. We leave for vacation in a week. It’s really strange to feel this happy and stressed at the same time.

Is there a website that exists where you can search for a particular handbag or pair of shoes or dress and see how other people have worn it? I think that website should exist. I have been Google image searching shoes and bags to try to find out how a fashionable person (not me) would wear them. This is a good idea, no?

I searched to see if there is an established dog-walking service available near our house in Florida (because whilst in my stress bath I decided I should choose a career with minimal stress and that lawyer in In Her Shoes was very happy with her decision to become a dog walker) and this is what came up. Why do all Florida websites look like this? Come on.

Video footage of that fox I instagramed a couple of weeks ago.

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 12:04:02 +0400

Video footage of that fox I instagramed a couple of weeks ago.

New Year's Resolutions! Yaaaaaaaaaaay...

Sun, 30 Dec 2012 10:59:20 +0400

Have you seen Very Mary Kate? Then you know exactly how that “Yaaaaaaaaaaay…” was meant to be read. If you have not, here’s my favorite one.

She doesn’t say the “Yaaaaaaaaaaay…” in it, sorry. It’s one of those things that I thought was a 6 on the ten-point funny scale, but then when I showed it to Simon it got bumped up to a 10 because I was literally crying laughing at his expressionless face. The face where he just stares at me as I laugh at something he does not find funny, which makes me laugh harder because I don’t know why, and then I’m crying.

And now that I went and brought Very Mary Kate into this post, I have to share this, which is one of my All Time Favorite videos. I remember laughing at it yyyyyyears ago, which gives me that feeling that I’m still me even though years have passed and a billion changes have happened. I still laugh at “You know what’s a good diet? Gummmm.” Yep I guess I just defined my existence via a Daily Motion claymation video clip. What of it?

So. New Year’s resolutions have been a stupid way for me to put pressure on myself and cause myself anxiety in the past. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now that I am wiser, I think New Year’s resolutions should be a gift you give yourself, not a pile of vague reminders of what you’re “failing” at in your current life. I am so wise.

Mine are…

1) Buy less, but better, stuff. I don’t know why I stockpile $8 Target t-shirts when I go back to Florida or buy multiple packs of cheap-ass socks. Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with those $8 shirts from Target, I just don’t know why I think it necessary to buy 10 of them when I wear the same couple over and over again. It must be some sort of I-miss-Target-induced hysteria. I finally realized that I don’t care that much about clothes. I like shoes and bags and earrings, but I am fine with wearing the same basic jeans and t-shirts over and over again. So I am going to work on downsizing my closet and upgrading the basic things I buy. Like the aforementioned socks, for instance. I was researching socks sort of a lot for upcoming travels and I learned that for $15-$20 you can get a pair of socks that are virtually indestructible, are breathable, don’t lose elasticity, and have an actual LIFETIME guarantee. Like, the company will replace those socks if they get a hole in the toe in 2028. Why am I wearing cheap-ass “day of the week” socks from H&M that make my feet a little bit sweaty no matter what? #revelation

2) Coffee. The author of God in a Cup was on The Splendid Table podcast, and she described how some coffee guru something or other (sorry) asked her if she’d like some coffee, to which she replied “No thanks, I had some this morning.” That’s me. I drink coffee, DRIED coffee no less, for the caffeine boost in the morning and don’t really think about it otherwise. The coffee guru something or other looked at her with probably disgust and said “Let me make you something.” and in that cup, she realized the joy in coffee. I’m paraphrasing. I have already implemented this resolution by replacing my broken and trashed french press and making actual coffee. I have even been frothing milk, first with a whisk, now with a milk frother thingy my friend Jane picked up for me. Thanks Jane!

3) Patience. It’s easy to get wound up on my very long work commute from Dubai to Abu Dhabi. The drivers in the fast lane flash you, ride your ass, pass you on the hard shoulder, and sometimes brake-check you after. Then, the driver in the second-to-left-lane is for sure driving 20-40kph UNDER the speed limit and will not move. Just imagine the chaos. OH, and a couple of weeks ago I was exiting on a curved overpass to get onto the highway and had to swerve and brake because there was someone reversing up the CURVED ramp. He then stopped and looked at me so I rolled down my window and yelled “WHAT ARE YOU DOING???!??!?!?!??!?!?!” and he said “Sorry sorry.” Now I’m talking about the opposite of my resolution. I just need to be reminded that none of that stuff is happening to me, so chill.

4) Be myself. I still care what people think too much. Take blogging, for example. Both my blogs are read primarily by family and friends, but Google Analytics shows that there are a fewstrangers around the world that have spent some time reading stuff I wrote. Because I know that, I suddenly feel all writer’s-blocky and confused about who I am writing to, as though I need to be writing to or for someone. Or I’ll worry that someone I like and admire will read something I wrote and think bad things or that I’m a bad writer.

But, I finally realized that writing and words and languages and all that is simply not what my brain is good at. I’m left brained and good at math and science. Why couldn’t I have realized that from all those standardized tests that said literally that? I blame all the English teachers who gave me A’s for making me think I’m good at words. (Unintentional Humblebrag going on right here, I do apologize.) Once I realized that’s how my brain works, I don’t feel so insecure about my amphibious writing. (Although right in the moment I am a superb writer because that was a top-notch joke that also ties into the video in this post and I didn’t even plan that shit.)

In non-blogging news, I had the unfortunate realization this year that I spent a lot of time in recent years being a hater. It took a LOT of time to get to the point where everything finally came together in my life. So long that I became a hater because I didn’t feel like everything was going to come together. I really didn’t realize I was being a hater, I thought I was trying to avoid the hater’s wrath. Why??? I mean, haters are going to hate, are they not? So I was somehow scared of haters hating things that I hated in my life and in such I became a hater. Cringe. It’s a shame because now that everything finally has come together, I’m happy, but I feel worried about bumming people out for having something they don’t want. I feel almost guilty about my relationship with Simon in front of a very close friend of mine that is chronically single (even though she is a total catch!!!!). I felt almost-embarrassed of the house I bought this year in front debt-riddled coworkers. I feel that way because I know how it is to be a hater, and now I have empathy for haters.

The thing is, even relationshipless friends and financially insecure people are not generally huge haters anyway. Not like I was. Generally, people want you to appreciate and be happy about the things you do have. And I shouldn’t care what people think anyway.

Also, when a person you like and respect wants to marry you, you get this huge boost of confidence. You realize you are good enough for someone to spend their life with you. Then you realize you are sorta the worst version of yourself right now and are excited to find the best version of yourself. Because if he wants to marry you at your worst, you want to give him your best as a thank you.

(I have had so many lightbulbs go off this year. It’s like you finally start to understand things in your late 20’s. I actually gave thanks for this newfound wisdom at the table on Thanksgiving this year.)

I’m sorry that I was a hater. Sincerely.

5) Do What I Want. By this, I mean I would like to minimize all the stuff I do because I think I “should be” doing it (like updating my cooking blog even when I don’t feel like it, and feeling guilty when I don’t), and maximizing all the stuff I think about in hypothetical terms but never do… like how I think it would be super cool if I could knit stockings like these for next year.

6) Read a lot.

7) Be nice(r). Do nice things for people. Make their day. Smile more. Be helpful.

Happy New Year!!! (I’d love to hear yours!)

Please re-define what “important” means. Because...

Sun, 30 Dec 2012 08:15:35 +0400

Please re-define what “important” means. Because you make me think I’ve been caught using Hulu outside of the 50 states. Which I of course do not do.

Weekend

Sun, 28 Oct 2012 16:08:00 +0400

Simon had Thursday off for Eid al-Adha so he and I and our friend Kirsten went camping. On the way to pick Kirsten up I lectured Simon on how not to make Kirsten feel like a third wheel (no bickering! no talking about stuff only we know about! no grabbing my butt!) and, I think to annoy me, he started bickering with me as soon as she got in the car. When we stopped for food, I told Kirsten that I did try to tell Simon not to be a weirdo and make her feel like a third wheel. She said “Please, I think I’ve known you guys long enough that I don’t feel like a third wheel.” but later she admitted feeling relieved that I was thinking about it because once everyone else dropped out of the camping trip, she worried a little that we would think she was a third wheel. As though we would be waiting for her to leave so we could make out. Awww.

It’s important to talk to your friends about stuff even when you think you know them really well. I mean, camping with people is a lot. All you have to entertain yourselves is yourselves, so you better like who is there and be super comfortable. (And bring lots of punch.)

There was a small, aging rat-like dog at the campsite next to ours (we camped on the beach this time). Beesly was desperate to make friends. She LOVES other dogs to the point that I feel guilty sometimes that we don’t have a playmate for her. The dog paid her no attention until the morning. Upon spotting Beesly, the dog ran its little knobby legs over to our campsite, barking like a psycho. Beesly dived into the tent, terrified of the muchhhh smaller dog. I felt bad for her because she was rejected socially.

Friday Simon and I went and saw Skyfall. Simon won tickets on the radio for the Gold Class viewing of the movie. I enjoyed it, probably more because it was f r e e. And Gold Class means no one is kicking your chair and no children are screaming and no one is shouting on their cell phone. I think Flight looks really good.

[This blog post brought to you by boredom and ready-to-leave-work-dom.]

This was in my drafts from I don't even know how long ago. And I still think it's a good idea.

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 07:14:41 +0400

I have this idea for a website that helps the forgetful and selfish and just plain busy people remember to be thoughtful. Basically you would sign up for a free account and then add all the people you care about (and those you’re required to suck-up to?) and the website (and of course there would be an app, duh) would remind you to do thoughtful things for each person at different intervals. For example, say you’re a busy important businessman who loves his mom very much and occasionally gets pangs of guilt because you haven’t shown her any attention in awhile. The website/app would tell you what to do and when to do it. It would tell you to send her flowers randomly every 18 months, and tell you to text her a picture of yourself every 20 days. So you could appear to be a thoughtful son.

5 Years

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 15:04:00 +0400

This is going to be longwinded.

I wasn’t going to do a blog post about the current state of my relationship, but then I realized how happy I am that I have 4 Years and 3 Years posts to look back on. I guess this could count as my 2 Years post… and all I posted on our first anniversary was this, but if I squint my eyes real tight-like I can see why that was relevant to my feelings on my first year with Simon.

I blog to remember, clearly. And I probably didn’t blog much about our first and second anniversary because I didn’t necessarily want to remember the then-current state of my relationship. But you’ve heard alllll about that already. Simon and I didn’t like each other for a very long stretch in the beginning of our relationship, blah blah blah. There’s no need to drag on about all that this year.

(One of the first pictures we ever took together. Also, my hairdresser gave me those bangs WITHOUT MY PERMISSION while I was reading a magazine.)

Instead, I want to talk about how incredible it is to see how a relationship (any relationship, I’m convinced) can grow with work.

Isn’t it incredible? You work at something and you get better at it. Who would have thought!

After we got engaged, I was very overwhelmed. There were times when I felt so very alone, so very helpless, and like I was some sort of reject who couldn’t find joy in thinking about a wedding. I was in a sad place because honestly, for total real, all I wanted was a simple ceremony at my parents’ house with taco bus catering. Plenty of people pointed out the logistical problems with that, plenty more pointed out how tacky I am.

Then I realized that we would need to budget about a year, a year and a half, after we got married to allow for Simon’s green card to process.

Gulp.

Then I realized that if we did the green card thing while we were living in the US already, there was a good chance that Simon would have to leave the country for a few months, or EIGHT, while he waited for his visa to come through!

THEN I realized that we would need to plan to process his green card paperwork while we were still over here, so we wouldn’t have any issues when we move to the US.

That’s when I started to understand that really, we should get married before we have a wedding.

I actually felt hard done by! I was adamant about signing the marriage license AT the wedding. I felt like a liar, to consider having a wedding post-marriage. A cheat. A selfish greedy weirdo.

So, to prove I wasn’t selfish (?????????), I refused to get married before our wedding. Like, seriously REFUSED, even though my parents tried to convince me otherwise. Hence the feelings of loneliness and despair. No one understood me!

Then when we were in Florida, looking at houses, I understood. You have to do what is best for your relationship. If there are ways to prevent things that could harm your relationship… DUH, prevent them! Did I care more about signing a. piece. of. PAPER at our wedding than I did about not having to spend a few or 8 months apart?

So, the day before we left Florida, Simon and I went and got married. I wanted it to be nothing. No big deal. I didn’t want my family to be there or for people to congratulate me or to take any pictures.

This is the only memento I have…

The thing is, even though it was nothing special… and really a little bit awkward… it is still one of the most memorable days of my life. Because of course you’re going to remember how your husband irritated you by driving really slowly on the way to the Brandon Circuit Court. And how the woman who married you mispronounced your name and worriedly asked “Ya’ll know you gunna be married, right!?” when you told her you didn’t have rings to exchange. And how a large bald man shook your hand afterwards and said “Let me be the first to congratulate you, you look like a nice couple.”

I never thought a marriage was about a white dress and a cake, but I did think it was a lot about a legal document. Now I think that’s a pretty dumb thing to think. I look forward to the day that I can say some very nice things to Simon in front of all the people we care about.

(And then eat tacos.)

Happy five years babe, I love you.

Tardy

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 17:04:00 +0400

If I were to write it, “Summer 2012, Part 2” would be a lot about how we celebrated the 4th of July.

It would include:

notes on Simon’s first stateside 4th of July celebration (he bought a lot of fireworks and enjoyed setting them off. I would have happily spent that money at the Kate Spade outlet, but that’s the difference between boys and girls)
an embarrassing story about how I, person who was feeling like I had ALL the freedom because I was back in the US, allowed my 11-year-old sister to carry a 6-pack of Coronas to the checkout at CVS, only to be told off by the cashier for “allowing an obviously underage girl to handle alcohol”
an even more embarrassing story about how I allowed a cashier to tell my 11-year-old sister that “she should know better” than to carry a 6-pack of Coronas because I forget how things work in the US and that woman was clearly being a weirdo.
a conclusion to the Corona story in which I cannot decide if I was an ass or not but probably the cashier was just a weirdo.
notes on our shopping trip to the Outlet Mall where plenty of money was spent at the Kate Spade outlet.

“Summer 2012, Part 3” would be a lot about our two days at Universal Studios.

We had SO much fun. And, as Floridians, my sisters and I had fun comparing Universal to Disney.

Ok, I had fun comparing Universal to Disney. The verdict? No one at Disney World rudely offers to pick you out a stuffed animal after you win a balloon-dart game and can’t decide what prize you want. There are no floating mountains of litter clumped together in the water under the roller coasters at Disney World. I never remember standing in line at a food stand at Disney World for 20 minutes, only to be told there is no more WATER for sale but they can sell you tap water for $3.

Universal is a LOT of fun, don’t get me wrong. But it did make me appreciate the extra effort those Disney peeps put forward to make sure everything is happy and perfect and that all vomit is cleaned up immediately.

But…

… Universal has Harry Potter World.

And no one yells at you for deeming a fake building a good place to “pretend you’re in a crime scene”.

That’s a big, big part of being a good theme park… You have to let the people feel like they’re getting away with things they shouldn’t be doing. Like trying on funny hats they have no intention of buying, or laying face down on the ground and pretending to be dead.

“Summer 2012, Part 3” would be about the rest of our house hunting adventures, including how WEIRD house hunting can be at times.

(Not only did this house have all sorts of personal things strewed about, the radio was also belting out church sermons.)

“Summer 2012, Part 4” would be about the night Simon and I spent in Ybor, Tampa’s club/bar district. This was the first time I have ever really been out in Ybor, and it was CRAZY.

Simon and I rented a hotel for the night, right in downtown Ybor. It was one of the very popular hotel chains, so I figured it would be reliable/not murder-y.
Simon and I arrived at the room around 5pm, dropped off our bags, and headed straight out to enjoy a drink and some food.
Around 7:30pm, the streets started to get more and more crowded and I started to feel like I was not going to be able to relax unless I stowed my new Kate Spade purse + my jewelry in the room.
When we walked back into the hotel room, we noticed that there were a pair of men’s shoes sat neatly next to the bed. We looked around a bit more and found a pair of men’s sweatpants in the nightstand cupboard and a backpack in the closet.
I thought of this as an exciting part of Ybor culture (hotel rooms that are not adequately cleaned) and figured I could make the hotel manager’s night by NOT complaining about the items, just simply returning them.
The hotel manager did not laugh at my joke about murder. I don’t remember exactly what the joke was, but it was about murder and the man did not laugh. He just took the shoes and pants and backpack and slinked away.
Simon and I went back out, found an English bar (Simon’s good like that), and made some friends over beer pong.
Several hours, drinks, beer pong games, double takes to check if some girl’s butt was literally out of her dress, and pieces of pizza later, we returned to the room.
Shortly after, around 3am, the door rattled as someone tried to open it. The intruder had a key card, so we assumed it was a hotel employee… But it was 3am!
Simon said “We’re in here! We’re in here!” to the person on the other side of the door, and I called down to the front desk to explain “First there were SHOES in our room and now someone is trying to come IN!” to the Spanish-speaking person manning the phone. When the person on the phone expressed confusion, I realized how little sense I was making and hung up.
The next day, having not been murdered as expected, we drove to Sarasota. Simon didn’t take any good pictures of the Sunshine Skyway (aka only my favorite bridge in all of Florida ever). Hmm.

If I was any good at this blogging business, I would have also blogged allllll about our crazy adventure weekend in which we went camping in August (!!) and did not melt/burst into flame.

It was a bit hot when we arrived, but cooled down quite a lot in a short amount of time. Then it looked like it was going to rain.

Then it did rain.

Shortly after I said “I don’t think it’s going to get any worse”, a wall of hard rain came through the wadi. We saw it and heard it, and then it blew through until it was beating down on top of US. Simon grabbed our “go bag” and the dog and we all ran to take cover in the cars (which were preemptively parked away from the water in case the weather became a threat).

It was the quickest change in weather I have ever seen. It was as though someone flipped a “special effects” switch. Even though I havebeen told that flash floods are extremely dangerous and can happen at any time, I could never really grasp the concept before this. Luckily Simon did grasp the concept and prepared for what could happen while I sat there and said “I don’t think it’ll get any worse.”

Almost as quickly, it was gone.

Plenty of Omanis came by to check the wadi afterwards. It was comforting to know that if we were in trouble, they would have been there to help.

We went for a swim,

and found a nearby geocache before it got dark.

It was probably the best camping trip we’ve ever had and I DIDN’T EVEN BLOG ABOUT IT.

Well, I guess I just did.

girl-non-grata: Security camera clips that make the news...

Tue, 25 Sep 2012 17:25:48 +0400

girl-non-grata:

Security camera clips that make the news usually show bad things, but Coke decided to “look at the world a little differently” in this heartwarming viral video. They found security camera footage from around the world showing happy moments: people stealing kisses instead of possessions, dealing potato chips instead of drugs, and offering car assistance rather than road rage. [x]

I love everything about this.

I forgot that I am probably missing some beautiful,...

Wed, 01 Aug 2012 09:33:00 +0400

I forgot that I am probably missing some beautiful, motivational, tear-inducing commercials while watching the Olympics on this side of the world.

Or maybe they are playing and I just haven’t seen any?

I love that one above, and this one is really great too.

Be great.

(Congratulations to the US women’s gymnastics Fab Five! Wow.)

House

Mon, 30 Jul 2012 10:43:00 +0400

Simon and I are making an offer on a house today. To celebrate all the scanning and emailing I did this morning, I edited a picture of our maybe house with various effects.

We looked at a few houses while we were in Florida. It turns out that one of my closest friends, Kristen, whom I met on the first day of high school (and have remained consistently in touch with for the last almost-13 years) is a realtor in Lakeland, Florida.

I had never been to Lakeland before this last trip to Florida. Well, my mom claims I have but I don’t remember. Simon and I were looking at houses online in Brandon and Tampa and Valrico and other areas I knew of for a LONG time. Years, probably, now that I think about it.

Then one day earlier this year, frustrated with the lack of older charming homes in Brandon, I decided to see what Lakeland had available. I knew Kristen had moved there after getting married last year, so maybe it didn’t suck.

Simon and I immediately found some houses we liked in Lakeland. Old, charming houses! We looked at a few while we were in Florida a few weeks ago, and fell in love with one.

Simon fell in love with this house in an understandable “Let’s buy this house!” kind of way. I fell in love with this house in a worried “I don’t feel adult enough to make this decision, WHAT IF IT IS A BAD DECISION??” kind of way.

See, the house was built in 1927, but a builder lived in the house and updated the entire thing for himself. As such, the quality of the work done on the house was great, and the house was ready for a renter. But, the floors were wonky. Old-house wonky. Some parts were higher than others, and some rooms you got the feeling wheeled things might roll around.

So while I fell in love with things like the mailbox next to the front door…

… and details throughout the house,

I was still worried about the floors. I was worried about buying a money pit*.

So I had my entire family come see the house one day. My dad is an electrical engineer and I had this idea in my head that I needed for him to sign off on the house we chose, because he knows house stuff. He’s never made a bad house choice, and can do almost anything in the building/electrical/handy categories.

He and the rest of my family worried about the floors. There were a few half-hearted “it’s your decision”s tossed in my and Simon’s direction, but their uncertainty made me REALLY uncertain.

Simon talked me down. He made me feel better about the house and our choice. My friend of 13 years gave me a boost of confidence about the house. I trusted she wouldn’t sell me some piece of crap. We made plans to celebrate the 4th of July, then meet the seller/builder himself the following day so he could then offer me yet another dose of security.

The morning that we were to meet the builder, then presumably make an offer, Kristen called with the sad news that the house was gone. Some other luckies put in an offer while I was dragging my feet.

I wasn’t that disappointed straight away, but as time went on I started to really feel heartbroken about it. I had started picturing Beesly playing in the backyard, Simon and I remodeling the kitchen (which already had two ovens and two dishwashers!), and sitting next to the fireplace in the winter (yes, it does get cold in Florida sometimes).

I think this is the hard part about being a fan of older homes. If you lose out on a new home, you’re bound to see a dozen more like it for sale soon enough. No house will be the same as this house that we lost.

But, who knows. That wonky-floored housecould have been a money pit. And it didn’t have a screen room or covered porch, and I know we desert-dwellers are going to appreciate eating outside while it’s raining when we move to Florida one day.

So, this post marks me burying the grief over losing The [Street Name that I will not publish incase you try to buy this house next time it goes on the market before I can] House.

And I think it marks me learning a few things:

I am an adult now (what?!), and it really is our decision. I love my family and completely understand and appreciate their concerns and worries. But now I finally feel comfortable making decisions like this even if I don’t get a 100% approval rating from the fam.
Simon loved that house too, maybe even more than I did, and he continually tried to get me to see that we should buy it… but he’s not bitter towards me or resentful now that we lost it, even though he could be. I love him for that.
I like glass doorknobs a LOT.

Now here we are, a few weeks later, making an offer on another house, sight unseen. It’s still an older home (from 1968), and it’s charming too. I feel more level-headed about this one. I’m trying to be positive about buying this house so I don’t drag my feet till it’s gone, while also not growing too attached incase we don’t get it.

I am excited and anxiety-free today. Wish us luck!

(Ok, that one might be a little *too* abstract.)

*great movie, I don’t care what you say

Summer 2012, Part 1

Wed, 25 Jul 2012 12:10:22 +0400

Simon and I were up until 1:30am packing and cleaning the house and drinking the Thank You For Watching The Cat beers that we bought for our cat-sitting friend. With her. I mean, we drank them WITH her. In celebration of her kindness and inability to turn down a favor.

Because vacation starts when you get home from your last day of work!

I have never put less effort into packing before. I knew I’d be shopping at Target soon, and annual Target shopping trips easily fill a suitcase. Passport/wallet/phone? Nothing else matters really.

My mom has always offered the good advice of “Clean your house before you leave and do your laundry before you return!” and she’s so right. You don’t want to get back (in July. in the desert. during Ramadan.) and have to clean your house and do your laundry (in your crappy washer/dryer combo no less).

Simon and I slept for just a few hours. We woke up around 4am and poor Simon had to listen to my horrible made-up songs about our trip.

We’re going on vacayyyyyy shuuuunnnn! -sung to no tune at all.

He puts up with this every trip we take together.

He is never as excited as me.

He also lets me take ugly pictures of us in the cab on the way to the airport. I take these pictures because I think it will mean I’ll take so many pictures ALL vacation. It never works.

He also lets me go on and on about how awesome it is that we have disposable coffee cups (with lids!) at home.

We arrived in London at noon, London time. Simon rented a car (I have yet to drive in England, which is good because my stick-shift skills are super dusty and my driving-on-the-left-side-of-the-road-and-car skills are nonexistent) and drove the 90 minutes or so to see our friends in Wokingham. Simon’s little brother, who is attending Uni somewhere in the UK (I forget) met us there.

We were only in England for a 23 hour layover, and by the time we got to our friend’s house it was already 2 or 3pm London time. We had to be at the airport again at 10am. So, to celebrate our short visit, we drank wine.

Around 7pm or so, the wine and lack of sleep hit me (great, responsible, adult-like combination!) and while leaning against the open-trunk of our rental car I decided that maybe people would just let me have a nap RIGHT THERE in the trunk. I did not fit in the small English trunk, and my friend Anna thought it was funny to take pictures of me attempting to fit “in the boot” for a nap and post said pictures on Facebook.

So that picture exists. And, if you try to take a nap in the boot ONE TIME, you become known as She Who Tried To Go To Sleep In The Boot.

One time!

Lian kindly offered me a more appropriate sleeping area and I slept until Simon woke me up to head to our hotel. It was about 1 or 2am.

We got to the ~~hotel~~ Travelodge and the typical, creepy nightshift worker let us in to our room and we slept until Simon’s alarm went off.

We were ready and waiting for a cab at 9am. It was a cold, overcast, misty morning, as is to be expected in England. Simon trash talked his country’s weather while we waited for the cab. ”Look at this! It’s 9am and still barely any sunlight!”

Simon drove us the 90 minutes back to the airport. We checked in. We checked our bags.

We went through security and removed our laptops and jackets and shoes and all that.

A man swabbed Simon’s bag in a random check for explosives.

We stopped at a luggage store in the terminal to look around.

Then, we finally got to the departures board to find out what gate our flight was leaving from. I didn’t see our flight on the board. Hmm. Then I saw a large “7:42” on a screen all by itself. I was confused. It looked like how TIMES are displayed, but it wasn’t 7:42, it was nearly 11am! I asked Simon “WHAT IS THAT?? Is that a CLOCK????” and then we both realized that Simon set his alarm on his phone, which was still on Dubai time, and we had woken up and got all the way to the airport terminal before realizing it was three hours earlier than we thought it was.

So we went to the airport bar.

Do you ever have one of those days where you’re not in a...

Tue, 24 Jul 2012 07:44:32 +0400

Do you ever have one of those days where you’re not in a very good mood and you’re looking at kitchen sinks for fun and you spiral into an even worse mood because WHY ISN’T THE SINK MODEL LOOKING AT THE FRUIT SHE’S RINSING?

This will be the next in my series of ‘comics I print from...

Mon, 18 Jun 2012 10:36:18 +0400

This will be the next in my series of ‘comics I print from the Internet then color in with my cool markers and then hang up at home (after asking Simon for reassurance that it’s cute/funny/cool. ”Isn’t it SO CUTE???” Yep.)

Seriously though, isn’t it so cute?