Gina, the Adult

Do you sometimes feel like you're younger than you really are? Like much, much younger?

I do.

Frequently.

I'm 28, but usually feel like I'm still a teenager. And it's been nearly a decade since I left teenagerhood.

"Why do I feel like a young whipper-snapper?" is the real question. Not only am I old enough to be an adult, but I've accomplished plenty that would efficiently place me in an adult-ish category.

*I have a Bachelors degree.
*I also earned a Masters.
*I own my own car.
*I have a rockin' awesome career as a Speech-Language Pathologist. I've been an SLP for 4.5 years.
*I've traveled to a handful of places without chaperons (including but not limited to: Alaska, Scotland and Hawaii).
*I sponsor a slow-pitch softball team.
*I have an accountant.

See? Those seem very grown-up, don't they? I'm responsible and all that jazz.

I guess it's what I haven't done, and what I don't own that makes me feel like a kid. So there's that (i.e., I'm not married, I don't have children, I don't own a home...), plus I really like to play.

But just this weekend, I did something that made me feel like a real adult.

I purchased my very first painting.

I first saw it when I had lunch at the Snake Bite in December (when I was downtown for an ADHD conference I went to with Jami--my good friend, and a fellow SLP). The painting was hanging right by our table, and I was totally taken with it; so much, in fact, that I wrote down the artist's name and email address.

It turns out, I couldn't stop thinking about that painting all weekend. Four days later, I emailed the artist, Margie Zirker, to tell her that I really loved the painting and inquired about the price. We exchanged emails over the next day or two, and I decided I couldn't live without that painting. So we met up (Margie's a delightful lady, whose son I happen to know) and I signed a payment contract.

Life went on; Christmas happened, 2011 presented itself, I made some payments.

And now here I am, less than 2 months later, the proud owner of just about the coolest picture in all of history:

Springtime in Bone, Idaho
by Margie Zirker

Isn't it fantastic?!

This is the thing, my friends, that made me feel like an adult. (Silly Gina!)

Scattered Thoughts in the Middle of Winter

Thoughts I've thunk this past week:

*I've been talking myself out of eating unhealthy snacks. Sometimes my willpower wins; other times my cravings do. (My willpower, when it comes to snacky-snacks this week, is mediocre at best. Humbug!)

*I've been making myself work out more than usual this past week. (Very likely because my dumb old willpower is all willy-nilly.) Praise me! I got up early to lift yesterday morning. And I worked hard enough that I'm rather sore today! Then I went to Zumba last night where I burned what felt like one zillion calories. I sweated buckets--likely because I'm not particularly watching my carbs. I love carbs. I daresay "carbs" is my favorite food.

*I've been thinking, of late, how it would be neat to have a husband, and the reasons are twofold. (Honestly, there are a lot of reasons marriage would be stellar, but these are the two reasons that got me wishing for one this week.) 1) I could think about having babies. (There. I said it. On the interweb, for all the world to read. Gah!) 2) We've gotten lots of snow this past week, and it seems like men are naturally good at shoveling snow. (I'm not wrong, am I?)

*I've been reading Mockingjay, the final book in the Hunger Games trilogy. I read the first two (The Hunger Games and Catching Fire) in five days. Total. (I feel quite certain that President Snow is among the wickedest characters ever written, you know? He's bad news!) I'm roughly half-way through and will likely finish it this weekend.

*Lately I've been wondering about the size of my bladder. I estimate it to be perhaps the size of a walnut? (This next part is going to seem really off-topic, but hold tight; it all ties together in the end, I assure you.) Things get uncomfortable at work. For a handful of silly reasons, we moved out of our awesome building about 18 months ago and landed in...another building to pass the time. It's great, in that it has provided us a place to work with our clients...but I do not love said building, for a handful of silly reasons. And also because the bathrooms there are yucko. I avoid the restrooms at work if at all possible...which is why I've considered bladder-size of late; because these days, it seems, I've had to use the facilities at least once a day. We move back to OUR BUILDING (our lovely, glorious building!) in just over a week. My bladder and I are thrilled--for a handful of silly reasons. (TMI? Deepest apologies.)

*I've been watching LOST on DVD with the Brookes in my life. We're in season 4--and it seems that there's quite a bit I had forgotten since finishing off season 3 several months ago. But then I watched this clip and felt pretty up-to-speed. As I've been watching, I've thought (a number of times) that LOST is a terrific name for this show, because it doesn't answer questions so much as present new questions. Also, every time Jack's face appears onscreen, I think (aloud), "I want to make out with him." (Something about his rugged good looks?) Also! I've said it from the beginning when I started with season 1 sometime last year: There's not NEARLY enough hugging on that island! Of what I speak is true!

*Over the course of the past few weeks, I've pondered the awesomeness of gloves. It's no secret that I have crappy circulation and gloves/mittens are stellar little accessories.They warm up my fingers enough that frostbite & amputation aren't a real threat! (It's just too bad I've only remembered to grab a pair of gloves thrice in the past few weeks...)

*I'm still lovin' the Cheerios. Particularly the Cinnamon Burst, but also indulging in Chocolate Cheerios when the mood strikes.

It might be an obsession with me...

Over and out.

A Pancake Story

I grew up disliking pancakes.

No, really.

I wouldn't say I hated them, but I'd rather have had just about anything else.

And the crazy part is that my parents always homemade them from scratch, never from a box. Isn't that spoiled of me? They'd make homemade pancakes, and I'd stick my nose in the air, pretty much refusing to eat them.

How bratty of me...

Sometimes, in all my snooty glory, I'd tell my parents, "I'll only eat them if we have Smucker's syrup." (You know...the berry kinds! Blueberry! Raspberry! Boysenberry! Strawberry! I love that Smucker's syrup!) My dad took the bait, so he'd try to make sure we had my syrupy demands in the refrigerator.

I had to share the syrup with my brothers--even though they liked pancakes fine with regular old maple syrup. And this truly annoyed me.

If the Smucker's was gone, I'd flat-out refuse the pancakes, made from scratch with love. I'd make myself a sandwich or something like unto it...

Lately, though?

Lately, I've been craving pancakes. When I went home for Christmas, I told my dear father, "Dad, I'm really in the mood for pancakes."

Do you know what he did?

He made me pancakes the very next morning for breakfast!

That's love.

And do you know what else? There was even Smucker's Boysenberry syrup in the fridge.

I love the Smuckers!

I think my dad loves me...

And really...I can't get pancakes off the brain.

I think I know what I'm having for lunch...

It. Was. Gross.

I meant to do this post earlier; it all went down Christmas Eve-Eve, after all...

It's a little activity I've lovingly named Gutting the Christmas Eve Turkey. (Yeah, creativity failed me here, but it really paints a picture, doesn't it?)

I told my momma that I wanted to do the turkey by myself, because one day (I hope!) I'll be married, and I'll have to do it all by myself. One day...

Anyhoo, my momma stayed in the kitchen with me, to help direct me, and also to take pictures. (Darn tootin' that if I'm gonna gut a turkey, that there'll be proof of it on my blog!)

So. Here goes. The pictures:

This part was easy...
(Yes. It's a frozen turkey.
I can't even think about murdering and plucking one.
I'm not barbaric.)

Removing the neck-fat to get inside...

Putting some muscle into it...
(The turkey was still a little frozen.)

Here's a lovely image...

SUCCESS!
(Extracting the neck)

Turkey Guts!

(This is how I really feel about holding turkey guts)

Bagging the turkey...

Done aaaand...done!
(21 lbs of bird in a plastic baggy is heavy!)

There you have it; my first turkey gutting experience. It's really too bad we didn't get a picture of the final product (all cooked and the likes). It was pretty much tender and delicious.

PS I really like that purple sweater with elbow patches I'm wearing in the pictures. In fact, I'm wearing it as I post this entry. It's a Brooker reject. For some reason, she got tired of it. (Thanks again, Brooker!) And yes, I realize it looks better if I keep the sleeves down, thus allowing the elbow patches to patch my elbows. I just didn't wanna get turkey goo on my loverly sweater...

Dancing Advertisers

I'll never understand...

It seems like no matter where I go, there they are: people holding ad signs and dancing on street corners. They might be "advertising" for a pizza place, or maybe for taxes or whatever. It doesn't matter the weather outside, be it rain or shine, subarctic temperatures or scalding; these people get out there and they sell their merchandise (or services, whatever it be).

Sometimes they're dressed for the weather, and sometimes they're dressed up.

It seems like these Dancing Advertisers have been around for a long time; I recall my brother Vance saying (years ago!), "Those people are getting paid too much and not enough." You understand: the people who are paying them, well, they're certainly paying way too much for such a ridiculous service; on the flip side, these Dancing Advertisers aren't getting paid nearly enough for such a ridiculous service.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

What makes it even worse is when they're all dressed up. I've seen people dressed up as hot dogs, bananas, Uncle Sam...the list goes on.

What makes me most uncomfortable (or at least, I'd think, ought to make the Dancing Advertisers most uncomfortable) is when they are required to dress up, but they still have to show their faces. It's like, "You want me to dress as Lady Liberty and dance like a fool while holding this sign? Since I have no shame (and at the same time, no pride), I will do this for minimum wage. But please, please, please, tell me you've got a mask for me to hide behind!"

I guess I shouldn't judge; some people really like to dance. And BOY, do they get into it! They just put on their outfit, pop in their headphones, and away they go; boogyin' like it's going out of style.

And clearly, it should be out of style...

I was running an errand on lunch today when I saw this fella dressed like Lady Liberty and dancing like a fool. I want to say his sign said something about...loans?

This Dancing Advertiser was like a bad accident; so ridiculously painful that I couldn't look away.

These dancing advertisers usually make me uncomfortable, and they pretty much never make me want to patronize their specific restaurants/whateveritisthatthey'reselling...

He was really feelin' it...

I apologize if this post offends anyone...

Dancing Advertising is just something I'll never understand...

Cheerios

Ode to Cheerios

by Gina O.

This Ginabean loves Cheerios, it's my cereal of choice;

There are so many different kinds it makes my heart rejoice!

Original and Honey Nut have been around forever;

I really dig the MultiGrain --delectible whenever!

Then there is the Fruity kind--this flavor makes me smile.

Apple Cinnamon's always great; the combo is worthwhile!

And Chocolate Cheerios are BOMB, an idea so divine!

They are so tasty and delish for them I often pine...

Cinnamon Burst is the newest kind--my world it doth rock;

It really makes me salivate at the very thought.

What makes it even better is they're all made with whole grains;

Cheerios are a healthy choice, so mothers can't complain.

O. So. Tempting.
(This is the Cinnamon Burst variety)

Okay, so it's not my greatest poem ever, I know. But really...

I was grocery shopping last week, and I totally needed some cereal; I was running out of MultiGrain Cheerios, you see. I put on my grocery list: Fruity Cheerios. Because I wanted a little some'm some'm different.

I meandered around the store and was about to grab said Fruity Cheerios when I stopped short; a brand new Cheerios (Cinnamon Burst!) had caught my eye.

I. Love. Cinnamon.

It's, like, the best flavor. Ever. (Well...it's right up there with chocolate, at least.)

In case you were wondering, I bought both the Fruity and the Cinnamon Burst.

I'm totally in love with the Cinnamon Burst, too.

Cheerios sure have come up with a lot of flavors! I looked 'em up online, and there are a total of 12 flavors. TWELVE, y'all! (The kinds I didn't mention? Banana Nut (GROSS!), Cheerios Crunch, Berry Burst, Frosted, and Yogurt Burst.)

Anyway...what's your favorite cereal? I'm curious if anyone else even cares...

A New Year

Hello, y'all. Here I am, eight days into The New Year, and I'm finally getting around to posting about my New Year's Eve party...along with some resolutions.

On the last evening of 2010, Brookie and I had a handful of gal-pals over. We had a lovely dinner (with lots of giggling/cackling) and played a mighty fun game of 90's Trivial Pursuit. Then we made our way over to our friend Brad's house where there was a big dance party going on, where we rang in The New Year!

All the lovelies:
back: Jami, Kari, Jen
middle: Jeanna, Brookie, Gina, Keri, Allison
front: Lisa, Beth, Janae, Brooker

Seeing double. Times three.
Brooke/Brooke, Kari/Keri, Jeanna/Gina

EYEBALLS!
Me and Beth

Decadent Chocolate Cheesecake made by Jami the Great

Dance Dance!

I'm a horrible dancer
(like unto Elaine Benes of Seinfeld fame)
Someone saw me dance and I ran away and hid.
And Brooker got a picture of my shame.
At least Jami still wants to be my friend :)

Kylee warming up...

Jeff gettin' his groove-thang on...

I do not always love New Year's Eve. I was talking to my pals Callie and Melanie about this, and we all agree that NYE is kind of a let-down of a holiday. (Especially since it comes right after Christmas! I mean, you just can't trump Christmas!)

Having said that, I do like to sit and reflect on where I'm at, and where I'm going as the year winds down. (Or, more accurately, once the New Year has begun.)

So. Here I am. Resolving a few things for 2011:

-Meaningful gospel study! (Do more than read my scriptures daily; I want to really get something out of it!)
-Get enough sleep! I kicked off the New Year with a nasty head cold, and quite naturally, I've been in bed early almost every day this past week. (By "early," I'm talking, like, anywhere between 8:30-10:00.) It's been beautiful, because although I wake up still a bit congested and whatnot, when my alarm goes off, I don't want to throw it against the wall and watch it die. I'm going to do my best to be in bed by 10:30 when possible. (Call me an old fart, see if I even care!)
-Exercise 5 times a week! (I lost all motivation for this once Hawaii happened, so I'm resolving to do this for, like, the first time in my life.)
-Eat healthy: more fruits and veggies!!! Aaaand keep up with the whole grains, too!
-Going hand-in-hand with that: Make time to cook tasty meals! This way, I won't have to live off of sandwiches and canned soup.
-Go somewhere new. (This typically happens for me anyway, but I want to keep up the trend, so there you go.)
-Don't let an entire week go by without posting on the old bloggy-blog. I keep a personal journal (somewhat) faithfully, but I want to keep this thing more up-to-date.
-Try new things! Just to keep me open-minded and stuff.

I've actually already tried something new already this year: Zumba. Anyone who knows me personally, knows that I'm not a dancer. In fact, just talking about it sometimes makes me uncomfortable. I'm just...no good. And the very thought of going to a class where you shake your thang amidst lots of other gals who, very likely, can shake it much better than I can; it makes me feel perturbed just thinking about it!

But guess what? Brooker goes to Zumba and has been trying to talk me into it for a few months, at least! I've told her, "I'll think about it," ever since she first brought it up.

And do you want to know what Brooker got me for Christmas? A really cute little jewelry bowl with a bird on it.

Do you know what else she got me? A ten-punch card for Zumba. From her very energetic and lovely instructors, Tami and Amy.

I had no choice but to go. (I can't waste her Christmas gift to me!)

So we went last Saturday morning.

And it wasn't horrible!

I went again this past Thursday.

And I actually really like it!

I'm still a horrible dancer. Just...awful. But the music is fun, and I'm there with Brooker, and everybody seems to mostly be focused on themselves anyway, so I'm safe from mockery!

Although? Whenever the Latin songs come on, I find myself feeling apprehensive from the beginning beats, because: I cannot move my hips (and entire self!) like that! Not at all!

Anyway: here's to A Happy 2011! (And trying new things!)

PS: A very happy birthday to Janel! And my sweet Sethington, too! Love you both!

PPS: I'm still taking recommendations...

I'm Taking Recommendations...

I love to read. A lot.

But sometimes I get so busy that I don't really give myself time to read; not until I'm about to collapse in bed at night.

Some nights I'm sleepy enough that I can only read a few pages before comprehension slips out my brain...

I started reading Life of Pi by Yann Martel back in the beginning of October.

I finished reading it on something like December 28 or 29.

Clearly, it wasn't thrilling unto me; it moved rather slowly, but it was well-written, and I kept at it because I wanted to see how Pi's sorry predicament was resolved.

One evening I was talking to my good friend Keri about Pi, which she had read before. I told her of my concerns about the slow pace of the book, etc., and she said, "Just wait till you read the ending."

I finally found some time to plow through the last 75 pages or so while sitting by the fire at my parents' home over the holidays.

I finished it...and it kind of took a minute to sink in. I already know that I'm going to have to read it again; having finished the book and knowing what I now know, I have no choice but to read it again.

But I don't think I can make myself read it again for a while.

Since I finished, I treated myself to one of my all-time favorites: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.

It's so amazing. Remember what I thought of it the first time I read it? It's a tear-jerker. And you want to know something? I cried even harder this second time around. Because I knew what was going to happen, and it hurt a little bit more. Because I really love the characters: Leisel, Rudy, Hans and Rosa (aka Papa and Mama). Max. (I cannot forget Max!)

Anyhoo...I've just begun Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut.

I know. It's about the Holocaust. Auschwitz, even, I believe. It's bound to be sad, but I'm okay with that. (My momma loves books about the Holocaust; maybe it's genetic?)

I've got a few more books perched on the shelf, waiting to be read. Still, if you've got any suggestions, I'm open.

Thank you, and good night...

P.S. My thoughts on the New Year (and possible resolutions?) are forthcoming...

Update (Jan. 6, 2011, 6:15pm)

I do NOT have the patience for Slaughterhouse Five. It's weird and kind of dirty and I can't make myself read any more, even if that means I'm sacrificing an amazing story that'll change my world if only I were to "give it time."

NO THANK YOU.

And do you know what's strange? I think I've read this book before; bits and pieces of it seem awfully familiar. The thing is, I don't know if I finished it last time...

So I'm writing it down now: Hey, Gina! DON'T READ SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE! Just skip it.