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Can you do an intervention on yourself?

So, I'm in Boise for a hearing I have this afternoon.  The hearing office is across the street from a Wal*Mart and there is really nothing else around except fast food restaurants and other stores that I have no reason to go to when I have to leave in 3 hours.  As I'm walking around the store, I realize that I am not in Utah.  Guess what they have in Idaho Wal*Marts that they do not have in Utah ones.  Well, if you guessed WINE, you know how I think way too well.

Being as enamored as I am with a certain wine that I'm having trouble finding in Utah, I thought I'd go look to see if they had it.  They did!  So I start thinking, "Hmmm... I wonder if I could somehow manage to get a couple or 3 bottles home with me."  I decide that, since I'm in Wal*Mart anyway, I could find a small bag to smuggle some bottles back behind the Zion Curtain.  I found a pretty good bag, for the low, low price of $10 (and a small Chinese child's youth and vitality) and thought that I should try to find something to wrap the bottles in so they wouldn't break on the way back.  After looking through some towels and whatnot, I found some fleece blankets that would do the trick and they were only $3.  Imagine!  A whole blanket for THREE DOLLARS!  What's next?  Gas for under $2?  Oh!  They have that here in Idaho, too!

Now, picture me standing in a Wal*Mart in Boise with a shopping basket that has 3 bottles of wine, a small bag and a fleece blanket.  Then picture me totaling up all of my purchases and figuring out that I would be spending close to $50 so I could bring 3 bottles of wine back to Utah.  Finally, picture me heaving a great sigh and looking at the bottles longingly as I put them back on the shelf, hoping that the next time I go to the liquor store, my beautiful Menage a Trois will be there waiting for me. 

Yes, my better judgment intervened and I left my triplets there to be bought by some lucky bastard who lives in a state where you can buy wine at the supermarket.  Well, it wasn't really my own best judgment that stopped me... it was thinking of the look my husband would have on his face when he realized (well, realized again) that he had married a wino.  That and the fact that Joel just brought me a few bottles from the last time he was in California, so all is not lost and I haven't gone completely 'round the bend... yet.

To baby, or not to baby... That is the question.

Did you know that everyone I know is pregnant?  Well, almost everyone.  None of the men I know are pregnant (that I know of) and I'm pretty sure that my 91 year old grandmother isn't with child.  But everyone else of child-bearing age?  Knocked up.  At least it seems that way.  Just this weekend two people, including one of my sisters (who has 3 already) announced they were pregnant.  What up with that, yo?

I guess I am just at that stage of my life where my friends are all settling down.  Last year was the Year of Weddings.  (I got married in February last year and, since that time, I think that we've been to about a million other weddings, give or take.)  So this year must be the year of the baby because every time I turn around, someone else is having a baby.  Don't get me wrong: I'm very excited for all of the impending births; Very super excited for one in particular.  What is bothering me is the fact that I seem to have lost my ticket for the baby express and... I don't really know that I want to go where that train would take me.

This isn't to say that I don't like children.  Believe me, I totally love kids.  I can't get enough of my nieces and nephews.  Strike that.  I can get enough of them and it's about 2-3 hours at my parents' house on Sunday nights.  I so enjoy playing with them and cuddling with them and reading to them, but I also very much enjoy going home to a quiet house with just me, my husband, Lucy, and Peanut.

I know everyone says that it's different with your own kids; that you'll love them so much that all of the hard work and sleep deprivation and dirty diapers and whining and crying is worth it.  I don't know about that, though.  I mean, I love Joel more than I thought I could love anyone on earth and I can barely put up with that crap from him and I don't have to watch him every minute of the day to make sure he's not drinking Drain-o or smoking crack or something.

This is kind of strange for me, too, because I always wanted kids when I was growing up.  It wasn't something I would have questioned for a minute.  But now, at 33, I just don't know.  Part of me looks at my friends or family who have children or are preparing for them and, I'll admit, I'm a little jealous.  Mainly because they get to have the experience of being pregnant and seeing the little heartbeat on the monitor and anticipating the arrival of their little bundle of joy.  How awesome is the miracle of life, you guys?  Even now I'm getting a little tug on my womb-strings.

However, I just can't picture myself as a mother.  A beloved aunt?  Yes.  Please, sisters, send me your kids for a day and I will revel in taking them to do fun things that they never get to do with you.  I will get to spoil them and rejoice in the fact that they will never tell me they hate me because I said they couldn't go hang out with their friends on Saturday night because they have homework, and don't they want to get into a good college and make something of themselves?  I am fine with this and it's how I want things to be most of the time.

But here's the thing: I am 33.  I know that people are having babies well into their 40's these days, but that is not for me.  If we are going to have a kid, we need to do it before all the good eggs are gone.  And if we make the decision to not have children, will we regret it when it's too late and we don't have the choice?  If we don't have kids, will we still be able to hang out with our friends who have taken the plunge?  If we did have kids, what then?  How do people make this decision and not be terrified?  How do people do it?

So, I try not to think about it, but it seems like an impossible task at this point.  I'm just hoping that maybe someone will just walk up to me on the street and tell me one way or the other.  (And, Joel, don't even think about hiring some stranger to tell me we shouldn't do it, because you know I'll find out.)  Or, you know, maybe a stork will drop a baby off at our door and we won't have to actually make the decision.  That would be awesome!  Do you think storks give out tracking numbers?  Because I think we'll need a little lead time on something like that.

More Adventures in Cameraphoning

So, I have been a bad blogger.  BAD!  I have been just so busy at work that when I come home I just want to relax and spend some time with my true love...

 

That, my friends is my new most favorite wine ever in the history of me.  It's called Menage a Trois and it is a wonderful blend of Zinfandel, Merlot, and Cabernet and, seriously, it's my cryptonite.  I think it might be turning into a problem... because we can't get it here!  They've been out of stock for a couple of weeks and it's driving me crazy.  If you want to take pity on me and send me some, please just write "Olive Oil" on the outside of the package and we'll be good to go.  I hate Utah.

Anyhoo, I promise to try to be better about posting more regularly.  This means that I will have to make sure to actually start doing things to blog about, which, um... yeah.  Don't you guys just like to hear about how much I like TV and shit?  Awesome.

Now, without further adieu, please find below some beautiful photographs I have taken with my cell phone.  Some people like their pictures to be "sharp" and "clear" and "well composed."  I call those people "people with fancy cameras and too much time on their hands."

 

This here?  This is my nephew Quinn.  I totally made that shirt for him and did all the letters FREEHAND, bitches.  He is in Kindergarten and he is adorable, no?  So adorable that when we were leaving my parent's house one Sunday a few weeks ago and he stopped me and said, "Carrie!  I forgot something!  I need a kiss!" How can you turn that down?  I'll give you a hint: YOU CAN'T.  However, beware!  Because kissing a Kindergartener is like licking a handrail in a subway station.  I've had a cold for like 3 weeks.  They get me every time with their cuteness and cuddliness and all-around wonderfulness.  Stupid kids.

 

Now, I know what you're thinking.  "Do they even have an erotic bakery in Salt Lake?"  The answer to that is, amazingly, Yes.  However, these wonderful cookies were actually baked by my friend Jen for her election night party.  They are "O's" for "Oh, my God, I'm so glad Obama won!"  I thought they looked a little too much like boobs to let it slide, though.  Because I'm an 11-year-old boy.  Moving on!

 

This was a Halloween decoration at our local Carl's Jr. restaurant.  I know what they were going for: "Witch comically flies into wall."  What it looks like, though, is "Witch didn't watch her calendar close enough and got caught out flying around without an extra tampon." 

 

Hey!  That's me, everybody!  And that's Peanut!  He's got more friends than I do on Facebook, that bastard.  I don't think I've ever posted a picture of myself on here before.  Well, there's a first time for everything.  Don't get too excited, though, I'm not going to make a habit of it!  And, finally:

This is the first and only full rainbow that I've ever seen.  This was last year around this time.  At the time I worked on the 8th floor of a building about 20 miles south of Salt Lake and I had an amazing view.  I think I spent about 1/3 of every day just looking out the window and marvelling at how beautiful Utah can be, regardless of the ridiculous liquor laws.

My Job: The gift that keeps on giving.

Just quickly: I got a good laugh this morning when I was reading through a file and a guy said that one of his previous jobs was "ass manager."  He got $8.50/hour for that job!  Where do I sign up?

Purity Balls {Insert Dirty Joke Here}

(First, some business: Kristin is the ONLY person who gave me a list of all of the misspelled words in my previous entry.  Thus, Kristin wins a fabulous prize which is: a $25 gift certificate to Amazon.com!  Congratulations for spotting all of the wrong words and making them right.  So, next time I say I'm a-gonna give a prize, y'all better step up because you know I'm serious as a heart attack.  Kristin, if you will please e-mail me the best e-mail address where I can send your fabulous prize, you will get it forthwith!)

Now let's get down to brass tacks.  This weekend we were watching something on TLC and we saw a commercial for a show called Purity Balls.  (I've been trying to think of something good and dirty to add on to this title, but I must have killed a few too many brain cells at the election party I went to last night.  Thanks a lot OBAMA!  No, really, because I can only imagine how much I would have had to drink to console myself if McCain had actually pulled it off.  I apologize for failing you, but would also love to hear if you can come up with something for me.)

Ok, here's the thing: I totally DVR'd that shit and watched it last night.  Sweet hairy Jesus that was creeeeeepy.  Basically, it was about a "movement" in America ("real America" as my friend Sarah P. would say) wherein fathers pledge to protect their daughters' virginity and the daughters pledge to keep it in their pants until their wedding day.  Not only that, but they won't even KISS until after they're married!!  They celebrate this pledge with a full on ball where the girls get all dressed up and dance around with their dad's like they're at some kind of Appalachian prom.

One of the fathers said something like, "How cool would it be if you could say, 'I've kissed but one man in my life.'"  Um... it would totally be NOT COOL.  When questioned about what she would do if she got married and found out that she didn't like how her husband kissed, the girl (age 13, I think) said "Oh, I'm sure I'll like it.  I know he'll be a really good kisser."  Or something along those lines.  The good thing is, she'll never know if he's not a good kisser because she won't have anything to compare it with. 

Another girl said that she and her FIANCE didn't even hold hands (and avoided any other physical touching) because it would be distracting and would keep them from getting to know eachother's hearts.  Whaaaa?  She was very sincere when she said it, too, but it was that kind of "Oh, look at how pure and holy I am!" sincerity that drives me absolutely insane.  Because Jesus cares if you and your future husband fucking held hands before you were joined in holy matrimony.  Finger banging?  Probably not approved by our Lord.  But I'm pretty sure there's nothing in the Bible that forbids holding hands.

I've been trying to figure out why this bothers me so much, but I can't exactly put my finger on it.  It seemed to me that this wasn't something that the daughters came to themselves, it was the fathers making this choice for their daughters.  They look like they're teaching their daughters how God wants them to remain "pure," but at the heart of it, they're trying desperately to remain in control of their place at the center of their daughters' world.  Little girls adore their fathers and these fathers are using those feelings to take any actual choice out of the equation.  The girls don't even think about dating unless their father inspects and approves of the man.  It seems that most of them didn't date at all unless they felt they would be marrying the person a few months after meeting them.  They're trying so hard to live up to the promises they made to their fathers that they're not really making a choice for themselves, they're making it for their father and I think that, down the road, it's a decision they're going to regret.

If you want, click here and you can see some clips, but I would encourage you to try to find it on TLC and watch it yourself.

Office Mad Libs

So, I think I've mentioned here that there are a few people I work with who do not know how to spell.  It's funny, because in speaking with them, you would probably never know that they couldn't spell themselves out of a paper bag.  I am not the best speller in the world, either, but some of the things I've seen mispelled are beyond the pale.  It's disturbing, really.  Below, I will write a short story with some of the most egregious spelling errors I've seen in the past month.  If you can guess all of the words the speller was attempting to spell, you will win a prize!  An as yet to be determined prize, but a prize nonetheless!  Let us begin!!

"Carrie? Are you busy?  Do you have a minute to look at this intake for me?" Mary asked, timidly.  After all, Carrie was the grumpiest loyer in the office and Mary really wasn't in the mood to be yelled at.

"Urgh... Yeah, I guess."  Carrie heaved a great sigh of frustration because she was right in the middle of reading a recap of the latest episode of The Amazing Race (which you should all watch on Sunday nights because it's freaking awesome and I love Phil, who should have been given the Emmy for best reality/game show host but was totally ROBBED) and really didn't want to be disturbed.  "What's the deal?"

Mary handed the intake to Carrie.  It noted that the potential client may be delexic and had been in special ed classes in school, but he did have a couple of collage classes under his belt.  He also had torible-torible anxiety and he had fuquent panic attacks related to his posstramatic stress disorder, so he was forced to constinly stay inside his home.  This had gotten so bad that his new wife had their marriage unulled because she couldn't handle living with him.  Even worse, his doctors thought that he might be suffering from Bi-Polor disorder or even Schitzophrena.

In addition to his mental problems, this guy also had a lot of physical issues, too.  He had been diagnosed with rumiotor arthritis and bone spirs, which were really troublesome and hurniated discs in his back that were constitaly pain full.  He also had a blatter problem and might even have an alcer that could require surgury.  He was also trying to get on Medicade so he could start going to the doctor in order to treat a recent staff infection that just wouldn't go away.

"Wow!  This guy looks like he's in really bad shape!  I think we should definitely take it, unless you think there's a reason we shouldn't." Carrie said as she handed the paper back to Mary.

"Well, he does have a history of horrorin abuse, but he's been clean for a few months, so that shouldn't be an issue.  I'll set him up for an appointment.  Thanks!"

And Scene!  Like I said, if you can point out all of the errors in there (and there shouldn't be any that are my own, but I can't make any promises about that) you will get a prize AND I'll post your name so that you, my husband, and possibly three other readers will know how awesome you are!