I live in Texas now

I cannot believe it's been eleven months since the last time I posted here. I know blogging has largely died, but I still love the outlet this little blog gives me.

I went through many a movie phase as a young child, watching them over and over and over again. In my case, I think they were all musicals. There were the trills of Snow White in kindergarten, the self-discovery of Anastasia, and somewhere around age 7 or 8, the hard knock life of Annie. I watched that thing (and listened to the soundtrack) enough times, that I'm sure my whole family knew the words. The sun was always going to come up tomorrow.

In that movie, there's a throwaway line when Annie and Daddy Warbucks go exploring the big apple and see a show. An actress on the big stage sings "NYC, just got here this morning. Three bucks, two bags, one me."

I've always loved that idea. Not necessarily New York (I am very intimidated by New York which doesn't make sense because I navigate major cities by myself for work all the time), but the idea of moving to a new place, making a fresh start.

It feels very adult. Angel and I moved to Austin about 6 months ago. I kept my same job, Angel started looking for a new one once we got here, and neither of us has any family here in Austin. We kind of just wanted to. We toyed with the idea - Austin is affordable for this Californian, it has a thriving tech scene, and a growing economy. We visited in October, and fell in love. And in April, we pulled the trigger, and made the move.

I love the city of Austin, for many reasons. But I love living here mostly because it was a decision I got to make, as opposed to a decision I had to make. We got to make our own adventure. Be the authors of our own lives. We got to do our own research on apartments and neighborhoods and moving methods and internet providers and all the things. It sounds awfully mundane, and it might be, but it's also incredibly exciting for me.

When people ask what we like to do for fun, we usually just say that we explore. Trying a new park or a new place to swim or a new restaurant is really fun for us both.

So I live here now. And crazily enough, it even feels like home.

On Feeding the Creator in Yourself

For me, blogging fills the inherent need to create. To contribute what only I can contribute. To let myself be the version of myself that is energized, that feels, that is whole.

It's a beautiful thing, but at the same time, it's intensely dissatisfying when I am unable to produce words, to unlock that version of myself. It's a muscle that lately I seem to be neglecting during the workout of life.

But with the holidays right around the corner, I want to be that person, feel those feelings, fill my corner of the world with the things no other person has. The words crafted together that no one else would have strung together (for better or worse). I know that seems arbitrary but I think something about this season encourages me to be that person, to seize the songs and the decor and the nostalgia that flood this time of year.

I believe everyone has something that takes them to that place in themselves. For my husband, it is fishing. He feeds his Creator by throwing a piece of plastic and a hook into a body of water, with a line of string connected to it. (In case you couldn't tell, fishing, and the idea of fishing filling this need, is entirely foreign to me.) And though I find myself easily frustrated out on the water, for Angel, each cast is the hope of catching the elusive. Each change of lure is a learning moment, the gaining of expertise, the improvement of skill. And each catch is progress, excitement, success. Spending time at a lake is spending time with his best self, the version that is both calm and engaged, hopeful and determined, looking to improve and still undeterred.

Although I doubt I will ever fall in love with the act of fishing, very quickly do I fall in love with the man that fishing produces in him.

But who wouldn't fall in love with someone who feeds their inner creator.

Taste of the Mish: Mar Del Plata

One of the reasons I wanted to blog was to share some of my experiences from being a missionary in both Ogden and Argentina. So I think I'll do a series called "Taste of the Mish" where I'll share either something I wrote or a memory from those precious 18 months. Here's one I wrote from my time in the biggest city of my mission, "Mar Del Plata."

Four sister missionaries walk out of a cyber cafe. Three of us have another country, another world swimming in our heads - a world of carpeted floors, snapchat, drive-thru restaurants, and maybe most of all, people we've known for years instead of a few months. We walk out into the Argentine city, a foreign place, really. We make our way along the familiar path, but after communicating with this other world, it seems surreal to be walking these streets. 

I start to wonder about it all: How did I get here? Where do I fit in in all of this? What does God want me to do with it all - with this culture that I work so hard to understand and to love?

My mind is so ver far away from me, and I am not the only one. In an attempt to reconcile the two worlds, we gab away about sisters who might get married, ex's who send rude emails, friends who are struggling their way through college. Yet, the very way we discuss it all in Spanish only exaggerates how unnatural it all is. 

Just then a group of boys playing soccer comes thrashing towards us. The ball gets away from them and heads straight towards one of us. All of the confusion comes to a head for me. This is it, the clashing of cultures. This is where all the surrounding Argentines will realize just how out of place we are. Where they'll reject us like a kidney transplant. I can feel the shame of it already. And this certain sister missionary, maybe the bravest of all of us, the most unafraid to be herself, standing there in a skirt and ballet flats, kicks the ball back at them. 

But the ball doesn't go straight back at them. It goes up, over their heads even, in a motion so surprising that I hear myself gasp without realizing.  At the instant of impact it is worse than I imagined. The ball climbs higher still, it passes the heads of the entire group of boys. And in turn the boys simply turn around, unfazed, and continue thrashing along in the other direction. As surprised as I was by the ball's upward leap, I was likely just as surprised at how unchanged everyone else seems to be. 

Maybe it was there the whole time. People on the street don't see me as a fish-out-of-water. Well, maybe the skirt and the scriptures in my hand set me apart. But it's like picturing New York City without the crazies - it would be crazier still. I am part of this city, of this culture. I might be a kidney transplant, but I won't be rejected. I just have to do what I do and trust that people are people and God is God. Even in Argentina. 

Spring Cleaning

So it's this funny thing. I was doing some spring cleaning on account of the fact that I am marrying and moving in with the man of my dreams and I came across my journals. Maybe  5 or 7 of them, written between the ages of 18-24, and I remembered. I used to LOVE writing. Enough to fill a billion journals, enough to write flouncy little blog posts like 2-3 times a week. It helped me clear my head and make sense of my life and choose which stories I wanted to be big and which ones I wanted to be small even though all I did was interact with a stranger at the grocery store.

But I also live in Utah, and have maybe 5 friends here, and I feel like I lost a part of myself by not writing to process it all. Not that I think I have this great talent, but it feels oddly vindicating to put my schtuffs into the world. There's this satisfaction that the world doesn't spit it back out like a dollar bill that's too crumpled. (Sidenote: having 5 friends in Utah is probably 75% by choice).

But, another also - if I'm going to do this, I'm gonna all the way do this. I'm going to tell people about the blog and talk about Angel and my spirituality and post a billion selfies and pretend everyone thinks I'm cool. Because maybe that's what I have in my soul. And I know it's not 2008 and no one cares about blogs anymore and selfies are the currency of the Kardashian family, but you know what? Team Khloe forever. (Slash, idk, I've never watched more than 4 minutes of that show at once, but I am the Khloe of my family).

But also (and I'm pretty sure this is my last also), I found my retainer when I was spring cleaning, and it had been missing since I moved to Utah , but it still kinda fit and so I'm wearing it all the time so that I lose the gap between my two front teeth before the wedding and my mouth hurts pretty bad.

But that's kind of what you expected all along, right?

2015/6

I am that mix of person where part of me love to hate on all of the "new year, new me" and part of me is like, "2016 is the year I become everything I've been meaning to be."

2015 was a Charles Dickens year for me (It was the best of times. It was the worst of times). I experienced so many wonderful landmark moments that I know I will cherish into old age and on into forever. I also probably cried more than the last 5 years combined. (To be honest, during the 5 years before that I liked to pretend that I didn't cry). But a little struggle is good for you, or something. Emphasis on the something.

The month of December was the pinnacle of 2015. I got engaged. To the most loving, kind, selfless man I have known. Angel is the kind of man who you can call at 5 AM because you were supposed to drive yourself and your coworkers to the airport, but your car started overheating, and without a complaint, he shows up 10 minutes later, all hero-like and even charming. Or the kind of man who goes to help your brother-in-law with his flat tire twice in one night even though you are out of town and didn't even know he did it. If these examples seem oddly specific, it's because they are not fiction. I am going to marry an angel of a man ;)

We were taking selfies when he started to pull the ring box out of his pocket.

The night before I got engaged, I cried on the entire flight from Midway to Salt Lake. I wonder if I'll always remember that as an afterthought to my engagement story.

Probably gonna be upset that this is on the internet.

But the rest of December followed suit: I took another business trip. Angel and I went to my parent's house for Christmas. I saw my little brother for the first time in almost three years. I demonstrated the "talent" of carrying my 6'3" brother up the stairs piggy back. I almost had to take another business trip despite being promised I could take the two holiday weeks off to work remotely. I saw some good friends from high school. I did way more work than I anticipated or wanted. I didn't get a small promotion that I thought was in the bag. I didn't tell anyone about that.

It was a lot of things. Maybe the best description of my 2015 is, "It was a lot of things." I always did have a way with words.

2016 will have so many more things (and hopefully better ones). Like a change in marital status. Or that tiny promotion later on. Or a return to my pre-consulting (and pre-traveling) weight. Or becoming an aunt again.

So while this year will surely bring on new and more complex stress for me, I am hoping to be able to focus on the parts that have already made me so so happy, even if just in anticipation of those events.


I am hoping that this will be, as 2015 was in its own way, the best year yet.

Random Things I Don't Like

This post is so minimalist.

• When people say, "You Go Girl!" It feels patronizing to me. 
• When girls where short shorts with long-sleeved shirts.  Pick one.  
• Rihanna
• Cake. it's just bread, most of the time with cheap frosting on top.
• Girls with prettier hair than me

Catch-Up (Ketchup?)

So, I'm already off to a bad start on the whole consistent blogging thing, but we're not going to let who we have been define who we are and who we're going to be. Right, team?

(Sidenote: We used to call my brother Marcus "Coach" because he would give us spontaneous pep talks and motivtional speeches on occasion. I think we egged him on.  Second Side Note: you know you missed my side notes and my story-telling ADD.)

But the purpose of this post (yes, there is one), is to explain what I have been up to for the last almost three years of life.  That was a quick three years. And it's been pretty eventful.

So first, and I told you this, I left for an ecclesiastical mission for the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Remember how excited I was to go to Argentina? Well, that didn't quite go as planned. I spent the first 7.5 months of my 18 month mission waiting for a visa in the very exotic mission of Ogden, Utah.

Quite honestly, and to my own surprise, I loved it. I made some amazing friends. I fell in love with being a missionary. I fell in love with the Spanish language. I fell in love with the feeling of caring for other people so much that I cared less and less about myself.

And after I decided I was good and I didn't need to go down to Argentina, my visa came through (which was actually just a tourist visa, but that will be another story for another day). And I was electrified. Argentina was like nothing I had every dreamed of. The people were brusk and passionate, the food was bland but delicious in its own way, the streets were cold and rainy, the language was almost unrecognizable.  And boy oh boy, there will be plenty of stories to tell about all of this.

Then I got home in August of 2014, and I went back to school to finish my last year at Stanford University, studying economics. It was a blast actually. I lived with girls I had never met before from my church and they became some of my best friends, my best dancing partners.

Somewhere towards the end of that school year (I actually know exactly when this last one happened), I went on my first date with the love of my life, the man I am currently dating. I fell in love, actually (I said "love, actually"). But there's more to come on that too.

After graduation in June, I moved to Utah to start working at a tech startup. I have a very vague role, but what I do is loosely consulting, loosely a billion other things that I could never begin to explain, nor would I want to. Because I have had a sea of experiences at this job as well - some good, some interesting, and a LOT of learning experiences that I'd love to share here as well. Some of these are work related, and some have to do with moving to the Utah County community after really enjoying my time in the Stanford community. Its a pretty big leap.

What else? I traveled a ton. I flew free standby flights that made me laugh and made me cry and helped me have some of the most amazing and memorable experiences of my life.

So, if you want to hear more about any of that, as well as mundane anecdotes, unsolicited opinions, and a plethora of selfies, then you should just call me Danny Zuko because I'm the one that you want ;)

Snapshot

Yes, it's been a while. Let's move on from that for the time being, shall we?

My boyfriend is currently on a fishing trip in Southern Utah (yes I have a boyfriend, yes he is into fishing, and yes I live in Utah, I know), and since he lives alone I am currently wearing a $5 pair of leggings I bought at Walmart last night, a light blue sweater that is comfy as freak and hides my gut, and for some reason a rose-gold watch that I am still in love with because it is new, all while in his bed.  I also strung some twinkle lights over his bed (hope you like the festivities, babe).  Since the heat is something I can't tamper with, I have both the heat and the swamp cooler on (good thing utilities are included in his rent) and I alternate between being freezing and dying of heat.
I'm currently trying a loose "bone broth fast," which means I am liquids only for the next three days, and I can feel my stomach starting to get hungry. I sense three cups of liquid coming my way.

It is about 10:30 AM and I have spent the morning participating in the following activities:

Watching Grey's Anatomy

Reading the first two chapters of my sister's recommended book, The Untethered Soul

Deciding to have an untethered soul

Peeing from already drinking 1,000 liquid

Running some reports for work

Emailing out the results of said reports

Missing my boyfriend

Catching up on blogs I used to read very faithfully

Wondering what to do with all the hurt in my communities

Tweezing my eyebrows

Deciding whether or not to start blogging again

Staring at my screen trying to come up with a new blog name

Chugging bone broth

If you're still reading at this point, we might be on to something.

As humans, we spend our time bouncing from the very superficial to the subconscious and sometimes conscious issues that have plagued, piqued, and perplexed human kind and their subsets for generations.  In the four hours I have been awake, I have contemplated acts of terror, body image, self-realization, bone broth fasts, marginalization within my religious community, the state of my facial complexion, and racial inequality at higher-level educational institutions.  That is me.  That is the human dilemma.
I want this blog to be all of that. I want it to be a forum for all of the things that my self-involved brain can wrap itself around.  Call it rebranding, rebooting, whatever you want.  I love to write. I love to pretend other people care about my opinions. I love to call out my own self-absorption.

Before I take a nap (yes my life is very hard), I am going to publish this post.  And I am going to attempt to create new posts (and to actually publish them) on a regular basis. Come back if you please.

-Gigi

"It's a beautiful world, folks"

I am Blogging.

Take notice.

OH HELLO THERE.

So I was doing this thing where I waited until I got my mission call before moving forward with my life in any way.  Because the thing came not one, but two whole weeks (14 days!) later than I expected it to.  So, when you are expecting life-altering news that will change the direction of your life and you wait an extra 2 weeks longer than you think it, will, you start waxing weird.  What is this thing called life?  How do people fill their time?  What things should I be doing right now?

The point is, Bahia Blanca, Argentina.

Doesn't just reading that make you want to smile and be me and go serve people for 18 months in Argentina?  Seriously, if I could've picked where I went, this would have been close.  (That sentence didn't end quite like you expected it to, did it?)


The other day Luc said to me, "Gigi, you are so weird.  Like, you're never normal."  I have told this story to various people in my life to see if their opinion would vary from Luc's.  It hasn't happened yet.

I bring this up because little Lucas and I had a bonding experience a couple weeks ago.  We drove to Utah to go see Adri and Marcus (who is a college boy now!) and we just had sibling bonding moments left and right.  Well, kind of. I mean, we did drive up together, and help Adri move, and go through a scary haunted circus thing, and see Grouplove in concert, and eat a billion pizza, and jump on a trampoline, and then on the way home we hit traffic.

And we got stuck next to bees.  Like a truck full of hives with nets around it all and bees.

We were just trying to pass through Arizona.  In one-billion-degree weather.  In my un-airconditioned car.  So we had the windows down and sooner or later ... you guessed it, A BEE FLEW IN MY CAR.  And landed on my leg.  And slowly walked down.  And I was screaming.  And laughing.  And freaking out.  And I told Luc not to hit it because I didn't want to make it mad.  So I just giggle-screamed as it crawled down my leg and slowly made it's way to the bottom of my foot and then it flew off and I had no clue where it was but THERE WAS A BEE IN MY CAR.

Eventually it flew out and all was right in the world.  Except that we were now driving in a billion degree weather with the windows rolled up.  We eventually inched past the semi full of bees and Luc even got out and jogged for a while.  He was keeping up with me pretty well.  And what's better than a picture of your brother jogging on the freeway?

Not much, that's what.

Uplandia

Oh heeeeey, party people.  I am in Upland.  Did you know that?  Did I tell you?
Welp, I am.  And here's the part that I know I didn't tell you: I am here indefinitely.  As in, Stanford starts on the 24th, and I am not going to be there.  I have a year left of school - I didn't graduate, but I won't be going back.  Why?

And here's the part where I explain it:
You knew I was a Mormon, right?  And by this point in our country's history, I'm assuming that you know what a Mormon is (see Mitt Romney, the Book of Mormon musical, the bands Neon Trees or Imagine Dragons, the author of the Twilight books, and a bunch of other people/events that I can't currently think of) - but we're actually called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Did you know that members of this church go on missions?  They are largely service/proselytizing, and often times you go to a foreign country, perhaps learning a new language, and almost always it involves getting in over your head, helping people, and learning a lot about yourself.

I've decided to do one of these missions.  I will be serving for a year and a half, but I don't know where or when.  (I will find out VERY soon) And after I'm done, I'll go back and finish my last year at school.  I wanted to do it this way so that I could go back and have a year of school left before I have to start the job search and enter the real world.  Just a quick little year.

IN THE MEAN TIME
I'm in Upland, I got a job at tutoring agency, I am bugging Lucas approximately every possible moment, and I am playing the piano like its my job.  At least for now, that's what I'm doing.

So, I was going to wait until I knew where I was going to blog, but I missed you crazy people.  And by "you crazy people" I mean, I missed telling random stories to a faceless internet.

SO EXPECT MORE OF ME, I'M DONE WITH VACATION!

Meanwhile, Lucas will continue to do this as if I never moved in:

I have...

... a skype interview in approximately one hour.

You would hire me, right?

All-Write: A Gamboa Post

I made a mixed CD.  And I gave it the title "Mostly Upbeat/White People:  A MIXED CD, YO!"
And I was looking at my handwriting, and I thought that the way that I wrote the word "White" looked like the way my mom would write the word "White"


Is that a weird thing to think?  Probably.  But my mom has great writing.  Like, 1st grade teacher handwriting.  Except she does her a's with the extra thing at the top instead of plain and simple.  But somehow her handwriting is upbeat and clear and smiling at you.

I asked my Mom for a writing sample and she wrote a letter about what I am like.  It was cheesy and cute, and this is the edited version.  

Which got me to thinking about the handwriting styles in my family, and how they are so a representation of each of the people.  Por ejemplo:

Adri's handwriting stares back at you through cat-eyes, flirting with you and making you wish you were as stylish as her handwriting.  Adri's writing is the most feminine I think. 

Camille's handwriting is more practical than Adri or my Mom, but it's still got its own swagger.  It's so fitting that Camille sent me a to-do list because she is continuously making them.  In fact, just thinking about her handwriting makes me think of the erasable pen-system that she had all throughout high school for taking notes.  I also like the use of exclamation points to denote importance. 

I can't even look at my handwriting without seeing everyone else's.  Also, I have HANDS DOWN the sloppiest writing of the girls, and when I take the time to write really neatly, it comes out looking like my mom's writing.  I guess that says something about who taught me to write.


I was going to do the boys in my family too, but those ended up being too difficult to get a hold of.  But, well, there you go.

You're a Winner!

The Winning Number were numbers 5 and 2!!!! .... Which means......


LENA - You win the first giveaway!  Boy howdy!

AMANDA- You win the second one!  All that keeping track of my pageviews paid off.


Email your address to me at GigiGamboa@gmail.com along with your choices in the things with options, and I will get right on that.  Although I will admit that I am moving in the near future and so it probably won't get sent out until after Labor Day.
Sorry!


And now let's have another picture:

Adventures in Chavez

Sometimes when I actually work at home instead of going to school to do work, I get really weird about the fact that I haven't left my house all day.  I would do really bad in solitary confinement.  However, I think Adri would do worse.  Just sayin'.

(Also, but not really related, this is a hashtag free zone.  Because there are fewer and fewer of those left on the internets.)

OK, but anyways.  I was feeling extra adventurous because I have done so very little exciting things this week.  And I went to Chavez.  AKA the Mexican grocery store that you have to drive pretty much extra far to get to, but that is probably a good thing because they have a PANADERIA SECTION.

I grew up on pan dulce.  Pan dulce is like my dad playing basketball with a bunch of his friends on Saturday mornings in the gym of our church and then on the way home there is what seems like an endless supply of fresh, warm, sweet pan dulce.  They had pan shaped like pigs and the pumpkin-filled empanadas that I never see anywhere and the classic kind.

FOR THOSE OF YOU NOT IN THE KNOW: Pan Dulce is literally spanish for sweet bread.  So a panaderia is like a Mexican bakery.

I bought two for myself (my roommate is gluten-free, possibly for the rest of her life, so I couldn't buy a lot because I would eat literally all of them.), but I quickly gobbled the first one up, and only before eating the second one did I think I should take a picture.  It is natural to want to document everything ever, right?  Especially food?

Oh, it reminds you of a turtle?  That's alright, it reminds almost everyone of a turtle.  

That was my breakfast yesterday morning. Better than wheaties, that's for sure.  The real point of this story was to say I bought 60 eggs.  No, that wasn't it!  That was just something that happened that I just told you about for no reason.  (I will be that lady who buys in bulk, probably forever.)

THE REAL point of this story is that all of the people spoke to me in Spanish!  Like I was one of them.  I mean, I halfway am, but all my life I was told that I look white.  And now I am refusing to believe them!  It was like, "Are you finding everything alright?" EXCEPT IN SPANISH.  (sidenote: I get asked this question 9/10 times that I go to the grocery store because I stand staring at everything I buy for like ten seconds before I put it in my basket like I am trying to see into its soul.  I mean, you should really try to get to know they things that you eat, no?) And then when I checked out, the guy was like "hola" and from there the whole conversation was in Spanish and I just about died from Mexican-ness.

Oh, what has my life come to?

10,000 Say What?

Big News.

BIG GIVEAWAY.  I don't think you're ready for this jelly.  No, but seriously, I don't think you are.  After much contemplation, I have decided to break this sucker up into two different giveaways.  Double the trouble, double the fun!  Just like that old comercial for wrigley's gum!  With the twins!

The first Giveaway Will Feature:

• A MIXED CD in your choice of dancing music, chilling music, or music that makes you feel cool!
• Gamboa COOKIES (they are chocolate chip in nature)!
• an autographed picture of me!
• a $10 GIFT certificate to target!

And the Second Giveaway Will Feature

• a $25 GIFT certificate to your choice of Best Buy, Etsy, or Target!
• The Incredibles STICKERS!
• an autographed picture of me!
• And a DRAWING of you made by me!!! (I can't draw)!

To enter

Comment on this post saying what your favorite post in the history of this blog is

That's it!  You are this close to winning something awesome!  What are you going to do about it?

I thought this day would never come, but HERE WE ARE.

Have a picture of Hugh Jackman to celebrate:

Loleeetz

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.  I think that's true in this case.  In the very depths of my soul, I missed Lolita.  It's a funny thing, things you take for granted.  When they're gone they rock your world, but when they're there you just don't realize how good you have it.

This girl:

To this girl I would say, don't do that to me ever again.  I know we all get a little tired sometimes, but there are better ways of getting a break.  In the mean time, I promise to take better care of you. Starting with a car wash.  

What's that?  Did-did you say something? Did I hear you say - you wanted pictures?  I mean, okay, I guess. I could get behind that.  

Now let's all pretend that never happened.  ;)

Loosely Related

Surprise! I am blogging!

Today I took the bus home from school where I had been working/spending time outside of my house.  (Working from home starts to feel awfully prison-like when you have no car, but then I think any summer job starts to feel awfully prison-like).  Everyone on the bus got off at my stop, which always leaves me wondering about what a driver does with an empty bus.  I suppose the answer is that he keeps driving his normal route in his normal way, but I like to pretend that he dances across the bus and invites his friends to have a tea party with him on the bus or something to just completely abuse the bus driver authority.

A little woman who got off the bus with me was met by her husband waiting at the bus stop to walk home with her.  There was just something about it.  He was wearing socks with sandals and he took her backpack off her back and wore it for her.  And they met each other with huge smiles.

In other news, I had a dream last night that I was on some sort of reality show that took place at a camp where there were an equal number of boys and girls.  And every week one of the girls murdered one of the guys and whichever girl everyone thought did it had to go home.  We had this challenge where the girls had to kiss one of the guys, and this girl murdered the guy I kissed and I was really upset because I thought I was going to be sent home since he was the guy that I kissed.

Lastly, there are a lot of girls from my high school choir who are either recently married (including my beautiful best friend) or they are engaged.  It's like they put something in the water because the choir was small (about 26ish people half of which being girls) and 4-5 of the girls are married/engaged.

and those are my thoughts about love.

Picture:

FINGA NAYYALS

For a class I took, we watched a lot of movies.  Specifically Urban films, which I suppose is a film that takes place in a city.  We were supposed to be analyzing the music (it was through the music department) and one of these movies was Spike Lee's "Do the Right Thing."  (I will eventually get to the point, bear (bare?) with me).

There's this scene, where Spike Lee is stopping from his pizza delivery job to get some lovin from his Puerto Rican girlfriend and it's blazing blazing hot outside and he takes a piece of ice and rubs it on her neck and says, "Thank God for the neck" and then takes the cube to her lips and is like "Thank God for lips" and wipes it on her thigh and says "Thank God for thighs" and then takes it to her kneecap and I started busting up laughing because among all the sexy body parts Spike Lee chose to bring up the kneecap??!!  And my class got to hear me laugh at something that's not supposed to be funny for about the billionth time.  But of course after that he thanked God for more private body parts (only one movie in the whole class had breasts in it, and I chose to bring it up on my blog), and my inappropriate laughter turned into awkward/nervous laughter because that is how I handle seeing other people's naked bodies and also I have the maturity of a 12 year old when it comes to those sorts of things.

The point of all of this is: Thank God for fingernails.  (Aren't you so glad I took forever to explain the context on that one?)

I spent an inordinately long time painting my fingernails last night.  And I'm not even done.  I would give you a tutorial, but I think you might just get the point if I say wait until the last coat is reaaaaaaalllly dry and use scotch tape and remove it immediately after you paint it.

I messed up about one thousand times, but it's really cool and architectural looking now that it's ish done.

And now, when I go to any of the three meetings I have tomorrow, my respective supervisors will not be wondering why I don't know enough about income tax in California, or why this excel graph looks exactly like the last one, because they will know that it is because I spent literally hours trying to get my fingernails to be "really cool and architectural looking" because working from home is apparently a terrible idea for me.

Which is to say, the work gets done, but only in between coats of fingernail polish.

Some Things

I couldn't quite pinpoint a reason for why I've been silent for the last 10 days or so, but I could tell you it's a little bit due to the ways in which I try to soak up all of my feelings of being home while I am there, a little bit due to the fact that I had a delicious post scheduled regarding an activity I didn't end up doing, a little bit due to the fact that I was in a wedding and that just takes time and energy and is endlessly glorious, and a little bit due to the fact that I haven't taken any pictures in a while.

But I can warn you never to go into IKEA when you're not in an energized, good mood.

And I can tell you about the guy behind me at the store purchasing only KY jelly and a video game of some sort who was standing all too close to me and who "accidentally" walked into me when I was leaning over on my shopping cart to talk to my friend (aka, the butt of my yoga pants met the front of his whatever he was wearing) and how when he apologized I started to say it's okay but then realized it wasn't and just said It's ooooo......

And I can tell you that you shouldn't bake anything when you're the only person in your house because you will inevitably eat all of it and then hate yourself for having given up on running a mile every day for the last forever(but I'm starting up again!)

And I can tell you that life is seasons and that this is a season of staying at home a lot and wearing skirts and walking under the sun.  It'll be a short season.

A picture, because that's my rule?

Because I am queen of my apartment right now....

The Sun'll Come Out.....

Tomorrow will be spent

• Doing laundry
• Baking a pie or a cobbler or both
• Sleeping in the Bed I slept in in high school 
• Flying in a Plane 
• Awkward Smiling at my Parents 
• Applying shameful amounts of fake tanner and possibly lying out 
• Reading 
• Eating 
• Getting my Eyebrows done? 
• Lamenting the absence of all three of my brothers (Is it a coincidence that they all left the day before I got home?) 
• Enjoying

Vamanos a la playa, playa!