Songs I'm sick of

I'm sure you have them, too.

Those songs that seem to play every single time you turn on anything that plays music.

Those songs that you could sing (or at least mumble the words to, if you can't tell what those newfangled rock stars are saying) in your sleep.

Those songs that you've heard so much that you just want to wring their non-existent necks.

Yeah. Those songs.

Well, I currently have more than a few of them. Anyone else totally and utterly sick of these songs?

"Breakeven" (apparently it is one word) by The Script
"I'm still alive but I'm barely breathin..."
(I know the feeling.)

"Hey Soul Sister" by Train
"Heeeey! Heeeeeeeeeeey! Heeeeeeeeey! Your lipstick stains...."
(Possibly the worst one on the list. I'm sososo sick of this song. So.sick.of.it.)

"I'm Not Crazy" by Matchbox 20
"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell. I know right now you can't tell."
(Thoughts: Overplayed. I hear this one all the time. Very over it.)

"I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz
"Well, you done done me and you bet I felt it. I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted..."
(I still like the scatting in it. Other than that...turn it off.)

"Her Diamonds" by Rob Thomas
"Ooh, I can't take no more. Her tears like diamonds on the floor."
(Ugh. Just making this list is annoying me.)

"Uprising" by Muse
"Theeeey will not foooooorce us. They - will - stop - degraaaaaaading us"
(Do I need to tell you how many times I've heard this song? Ok, I will: 2 million times.)

So, yeah. If you're in the car next to me and you see me start pulling my hair out, it's because one of these songs came on the radio. Probably for the second time that day, if I'm already at the hair pulling stage.

And these are just the pop/rock/alternative/whatever the heck it is style songs. I listen to country, too. It's not as bad...

but still, don't get me started.

Ay yai yai

Is that really how you spell that? "Ay yai yai?" Really? That's odd.

Just thought I would let you know that I am still alive. But just barely.

The past 5ish days have been so.so.so.so. bad.

Food doesn't stay in. Weight doesn't stay on. Sleep isn't constant. Energy is nonexistent.

I'm convinced I've had some sort of other bug that is making me sick. Like, I'm not just pregnant-sick. I'm sick AND pregnant-sick. And it's bad.

It's especially bad because one of those past 5 days was Dallin's birthday. And I was simply unable to do anything to get ready for it or make it extra special. Oh, except...


Thankfully, I got this done right before the major sickness came on. Also thankfully, my mom and sisters helped me out with it. Cool, no? I'm a little proud.

I'm also still trying to make up for his birthday, which was now two days ago. We'll see what I come up with. He deserves so much.

Anyway, I'm feeling better today than I have in a while. Hopefully it keeps up, because I would really like to get back to life now.

Frustrated

Most of the time, I use this blog to comment on random things I notice or think about. It's fun. I like it.

Today, I'm going to use this blog to complain. You have been warned.

I'm very frustrated. Maybe if I express this frustration, it will make me feel better.

You think? Let's try it.

I guess mostly I'm frustrated at school. I'm frustrated that it's been so hard (time-wise) and so expensive. I'm frustrated because I don't even know if it was a good idea to begin with. I don't know if I'm ever going to use my degree, and if I'll just have put the burden of student loans on my family for the sake of "getting a master's degree." That makes me feel awful. And the more I get into it, the more I think that I would never make a good teacher anyway. I have no clue what I'm doing in a classroom. And my classes, honestly, don't make me feel prepared for it at all. Not to mention I just lost a 4.0 that I've worked hard to keep up, because one of my teachers decided that a 95% should be an A minus; and because the teacher I did my internship with hasn't finished my evaluation (despite several reminders to do so) which has left me with a (hopefully temporary) D in that class, which is infuriating because I worked insanely hard at that internship.

I'm also frustrated with being sick. Yes, I'm sick again. I feel like I've been sick more often this past year and a half than in the previous 10 years combined. I used to never get sick. And now I get sick and it lasts for weeks at a time and I'm miserable through it all. I try not to let it get to me, and I think I've actually done a pretty good job of that in the past, but I guess this time is just the straw breaking the camel's back. And I'm the camel. The sick camel. Without the energy to keep my house clean or make dinner. It's...well, frustrating.

I'm frustrated because I'm in this yucky mood, and it's Christmastime and I just want to be enjoying it and looking forward to everything without all the worry hanging over my head. Christmas just brings with it so much that needs to get done, which can be both good and bad, I guess. Good because it keeps me busy, and bad because I feel like I could never get it all done just right. Anyway, I firmly believe that happiness is a choice, but sometimes it's really hard to just "choose" to be happy and make it so. But I guess I should keep trying, so...

I'll be done complaining for now. I am well aware that there is so much good in my life and that I am extremely blessed to only have the "problems" that I have. Hopefully my frustration will blow over soon. In fact, I feel better already.

So, thanks.

Oh, bring back my body to me

Not exactly how the song goes...but work with me here.

My body has not been my own for almost a year now. Yes, February was the month in which Madelyn was conceived, and my self has been shared ever since.

You might be thinking, "But Katie, did you not expel your child from your self in November, thus restoring your body to your sole ownership?"

If you are thinking this, two things are very likely true:

1) You speak very formally...good for you.
2) You have never breastfed.

What has my breastfeeding experience been like? In a word...annoying.

In four words...I'm a freakin cow.

I make more milk than Madelyn could ever drink. Which, by the way, is saying something...my girl can eat.

I would never REALLY complain about breastfeeding. I mean, it's the best possible food for my baby. Not only that, but it's got to be at least part of the reason all my pregnancy weight ran away screaming and crying after the baby was born. I eat more and weigh less than I think I ever have in my adult life. And I know I should be grateful that I have enough milk, that Madelyn and I didn't have problems "getting used" to the whole thing, etc.

But seriously. I can pretty much count on having to change clothes at least once a day, and usually more than that. I'm debating just giving up clothes all together. Madelyn ends up having to change clothes pretty often too. And my sheets? Forgetaboutit.

Aside from my laundry issues, some funness has happened that requires me to use this cream stuff to keep me from wanting to part ways with my chest forever. Said cream is very annoying to apply.

Like I said, I should probably count myself lucky. I know other mothers have bigger issues than I do when it comes to breastfeeding. And I intend to keep it up...but not without some complaining. I'll try to spare you another post about it though...as enthralled as I'm sure you all are.

In other news...

Dallin is amazing.

Madelyn is beautiful.

Life is good.

Oh! And we're blessing Madelyn on February 7. It's going to be epic. Our ward meets at 11:30. Consider this your invitation. If you want to come, e-mail me or comment or something and I'll get you directions to our building.

Ciao ciao.

Sicky McSickerson

Everything sounds better in (Blank)y Mc(Blank)erson form. Observe:

Sweety McSweeterson
Hottie McHotterson
Stinky McStinkerson

It's really the only thing I remember from my high school calculus class, in which my teacher would commonly refer to himself, students, or math problems as Trixie McTrickerson.

Which I guess sounds better, since "Trixie" is actually a name.

But you know, whatever.

I am currently Sicky McSickerson.

Would you like to know how long I've been this way?

I developed a nasty sore throat plus cough thing a few days before Madelyn was born.

Why yes, that was a MONTH ago, now that you mention it.

It got a little worse, then it got a little better, then it got all the way better, then about two days passed, and now I'm sick again.

And it's an annoying sick, let me tell you. Stuffy and coughy and headache-y and no appetite-y (which is why my pregnancy weight was gone in what was probably an unhealthy amount of time that I have decided not to reveal) and just all around blegh.

What I really need is a good old fashioned, high-powered anti-histamine, something that will just suck all the moisture out of my body and knock me out for several days.

Oh wait...

I can't sleep because I have a child to care for, AND said child would probably be in nutritional trouble if ALL the moisture in my body dried up, if you know what I'm saying.

Which is why the doc says I can't take any medicine.

So what the heck do I do? I guess I'll just take some Tylenol for my headache and drink tons of orange juice, even though I don't really like orange juice. And sleep with the humidifier. Or, as it is, sit up awake in bed with the humidifier.

And now Dallin's sick too. He didn't get whatever I had before and after Madelyn, but he's got what I've got now.

And it's Christmas.

Hmph.

Humphrey McHmpherson.

Last Christmas

I gave you my heart
But the very next day, you gave it away
This year, to save me from tears,
I'll give it to someone special.

Do you know this song?

If you listen to the same Christmas radio station that I listen to, you do. You probably know it backwards.

Special someone to it give I'll
tears from me save to year this
away it gave you day next very the but
heart my you gave I Christmas last.

Yeah, that probably made perfect sense to you.

This song gets played a lot. And like everyone that's ever recorded a Christmas song sings it.

WELL guess what? If I ever record a Christmas album, I'm NOT singing this one.

That's right - I don't like this song. Nope, I sure don't.

The original version by Wham! is especially irksome to me. At least other versions have decent vocals.

But really, what is this song other than a love song disguised as a Christmas song? I'll tell you what - it's a bad love song disguised as a Christmas song!

If it wasn't for the word Christmas, it wouldn't be allowed to play at Christmastime. And since none of the other lyrics have anything to do with Christmas, I submit that we officially change the title of the song to "Last Easter" or "Last August," which make just as much sense, and get this song off the Christmas playlist.

So - do you have Christmas songs that you just get sick of, or deny the Christmasness of? Don't worry - it doesn't make you a Scrooge.

"The One The Only The Truly Incomparable Leland Stanford Junior University Marching Band!" - and Why I Hate Them

The Stanford Marching Band members do not wear uniforms.

It takes 5 minutes to introduce them (see post title).

They do not march.

They do not have very many members.

And, apparently, they do not think.

A little research (thanks, Wikipedia) has shown me that the band has given several questionable performances, including one at Notre Dame in which the band director dressed in a nun costume and conducted the band with a cross instead of a baton, and another at a game against BYU in which some female members dressed in wedding veils and the band director proposed to each one in turn, while the announcer referred to marriage as "the sacred bond that exists between a man and a woman...and a woman...and a woman...and a woman."

What the heck?! Who - exactly - thought that was funny?

Probably the same people that thought their halftime show last Saturday was funny.

I am not - in any way, shape or form - affiliated with those people.

The entire halftime show was one big long insult directed at a school - my school.

They poked fun at everything from the fact that ASU did not give President Obama an honorary degree (personally, I'm glad they didn't), to the fact that no astronauts have graduated from ASU, to ASU's graduation rate. And then they pointed out that everything ASU lacked, Stanford has had. Oh, and they mentioned that at least one good thing going for the school is the fact that they can afford beer.

Are you freaking kidding me?

Stanford is supposed to be one of the best schools in the country. I'm sure they are one of the best schools in the country. Reputations like theirs don't just spring out of nowhere.

I would never say that ASU is a better academic institution than Stanford. That's just not a viable claim.

But that does NOT give Stanford the right to point out what they think is wrong with our school and basically call it a school for morons, underachievers, and golfers (but not Tiger Woods).

I mean seriously - who does that?

What group - especially a group who is supposed to represent the entire school - would stoop to taunting, jeering, and degrading another school that is visiting for a football game?

If you think you're awesome, keep it to yourself. Otherwise, you're going to get another reputation - that of a stuck-up university that goes out of their way to point out any statistics that make them better than others.

Sure, you can tell me it was all fun and games - and hey, maybe it was. I can laugh at myself - really, I can. I can take jokes that are made in good nature - whether they are directed at me, my family, my lifestyle, whatever. And maybe no one at Stanford actually thinks this way about ASU, apart from whoever writes the ridiculous band shows.

But then why not crack down on whoever writes the ridiculous band shows? It really should be done, before this joke of a marching band completely embarrasses an otherwise entirely respectable university.

At least, that's my two cents. It had to be said.

If you want to read the entire transcript of the halftime show, click here.

But I wouldn't blame you if you just stayed far away.

Lazy Days

I'm in a lull. A hull of a lull.

It would almost be hard to tell you what I'm up to these days, because I'm simply up to so freakin little.

I used to have a million things to do every day. I used to work for 8 hours, have full-time, on- campus school, have a group of friends that lived close by that I could hang out with, and have this one amazing boy that I didn't live with that I just HAD to be around all the time.

Busy days these days constitute having homework and/or laundry.

I mean, let's face it: two people do not make for a very messy house, so there is only so much I can clean. We don't exactly have a lot of moo-lah for me to go shopping for more house/baby decor/stuff. My current condition restricts any active activities I could be doing. There just isn't a lot for me to do.

I should probably be soaking this in like a good bubble bath, since once the baby comes I'll probably be nice and swamped and sleepless and such.

But you know what? I feel totally like, worthless right now. Like a worthless lump. Because my days are spent sleeping in, checking out millions of baby things that I'm never going to buy online, and playing minesweeper on my phone. I might shower. I might take a couple snack "breaks." I might read a little bit (although most of the time, reading makes me feel lazy too). Homework days are Mondays and Thursdays, so I do that on those days.

But mostly, I just feel really bored and really lame.

It's not like I really want a job, per say. I completely loved my job at the school over the summer, but with starting school myself, and the impending period of time that I'll be baby-bound, it's probably best that I'm not employed full-time at the moment. I'm still technically "employed" at American Eagle...at least, I think I am...but I haven't worked there in...a looooong time. And I'm pretty much to the point where a shift would be rather uncomfortable now (5-8 hours straight on my feet? Yeah, no gracias).

This problem is compounded by the fact that I have the most amazing, busy, hardworking husband ever. Yeah, ever. He gets up super early every morning so he can be done with everything he has to get done (has to get done) so he can have ample time to spend with me before he collapses from exhaustion. He works so freakin hard to provide for us. I just feel like I'm not doing my part.

And it makes me feel really, really guilty. He can usually talk for quite a while about all the things he did that day, and when it comes to my turn...I, quite literally, have nothing to say.

Which then makes me want to cry.

I need something GOOD and WORTHWHILE to do. I guess it's not like all my craigslisting hasn't paid off (I've saved us a good chunk of cash on some good baby stuff, thanks very much), but having nothing else to do makes me feel like a lazy slob. A fat, lazy slob, in fact.

I get to go visiting teaching today (YES!). But then what? I mean, that excitement really only happens once a month.

Do I just wait out my slump until baby gets here? Does anyone have a suggestion for a good hobby-type thing that also happens to not cost any money?

Maybe I'll just blog...a lot. You'd love that, wouldn't you?

Yeah, I thought so.

Dear Mr. Dryer

Dear Mr. Dryer,

First of all, allow me to say that you are a fabulous machine. You and your kind have done wonders for me and my kind. For that, I thank you.

But now I must pick a bone with you.

It's an expression. It mean we've got problems, you and I.

The thing is, you are a dryer. A DRYer.

Runners run. Timers time. Bakers bake.

Dryers....

DRY.

They dry. This is the wonderful cause you were born to fulfill. Wet things become dry within you! No clothes, towels, or even shoes can withstand your heated tossing that leads to wonderful, wearable DRYNESS.

And this should all happen quickly. I should be able to run you for one cycle - one brief 45 minute-ish interval - and everything you hold within your cavern of drying power should be (say it with me) dry.

Let me break it down for you: WET. ONE CYCLE. DRY.

Let's just try to remember that, shall we?

And remember this as well: those lint traps don't clean themselves.

I believe I've made myself perfectly clear.

Sincerely,
Katie
Pregnant Katie
Pregnant Katie Who Is Often Very Tired
Pregnant Katie Who Is Often Too Tired to take 8 Hours to do Laundry
Pregnant Katie Who Is Often Too Tired to take 8 Hours to do Laundry and Is Frequently Armed with a Baseball Bat

P.S. You are noisy. Anything we could do about that?


UPDATE: So I wrote this post last night. This morning, Dallin tells me that he FIXED THE DRYER after I went to bed last night. Without being asked. Without even being complained to. The "Twilight Zone" theme song echoed through the room.

I'm not saying the universe somehow absorbed my written-but-unpublished thoughts and then passed them on to my husband.

All I'm saying is that I'm writing "Dear Mr. Kitchen Who Doesn't Clean Himself" right now.

Getting on my nerves.

Or more appropriately, nerve.

My sciatic nerve, that is.

For the past several days, my day to day activities have been rudely interrupted by very sharp, excruciating pains in my lower back.

I had a doctor's appointment on Thursday. I'm not a complainer, but I complained. Or Dallin did. Doctor says it's very possible that baby is resting his cute little self on my sciatic nerve.

I say baby decided to string a bow with my sciatic nerve, and occasionally uses my butt for target practice. He shall be an olympic archer someday.

Trouble is, this pain is becoming more and more persistent, pretty much to the point where it is there all the time. Funny how you take little things like getting up or even just walking for granted! Suddenly, you're afraid to do either. And the world becomes a scary place.

Ibuprofen helps. Please don't freak out that I'm taking ibuprofen while I'm pregnant. My doctor said it's totally fine up until 32 weeks. I still take very small doses. I also still freak out a little bit. Then I remember that ibuprofen helps me walk. So I suck it up.

Anyway, baby's doing great! Good heartbeat, good growth. I can feel him moving quite often now. My weight gain is good, and I've even got a little belly to show for it. I took a picture...and I can't find the little cord thing to transfer said picture from camera to computer. So you'll have to imagine it.

Motherhood can't be any more painful than this right?

Wait...I take it back. I TAKE IT BACK!

Dang it, I think I just jinxed myself.

Please?

Please please please!

Stop saying "eck-scape." Or "eck-specially." But eck-specially "eck-scape."

It doesn't matter if you do now...we can look past that.

Just change your ways. Repentance is real, people.

The word is escape. E-S-C-A-P-E. There is no room between those first two letters for anything else. I mean really, doesn't adding the letters make it more awkward? "Eck-scape" is much harder to say than "escape."

I know the English language has a lot of pronunciation-related tricks up its sleeve, but this word is not one of them.

Hey- I'm not judging or anything. If you love love love saying that word that way, more power to you. Everyone...prefers...different things. I, for example, have no problem ending a sentence with a preposition. In fact, it is something I am quite fond of. HA! But seriously, I screw up too. We all have our quirks.

Just...try to control that particular quirk in front of me.

please?

A Day in the Life

Hello and welcome to Bank of America! My name is Katie and I'd be happy to help you right away. How are you today?

(........)

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

(........)

Yes, I'm sure the line at the bank didn't help. But hopefully, I can! So what can I do for you today?

(........)

There is nothing I'd like more than to help you withdraw money out of your account! Do you have a debit card with you?

(................................)

Oh. Well I didn't realize debit cards were so dangerous. I'll be sure to shred mine when I get home and advise everyone I know to do the same. But sir, I still need a way to pull up your profile on my system. Do you know your account number, or do you have a checkbook with you?

(..)

What is your social security number?

(...........?..........!)

Well would you mind writing it down? I can shred it for you as soon as we are done.

(.......!......!)

All right. But I do hope you know that once we do pull up your profile, your social security number will be available to me, so I will be able to write it down, take it home, find a way to use it to my advantage and steal your identity, and get fired. Until then, I can search for your profile by name. What is your name, sir?

(........)

Ok. As long as there aren't any other John Smiths with Bank of America accounts in Arizona, we should be able to find you without any trouble. (after a minute) Oh, it seems there are several people with your name, Mr. Smith. What is your address?

(.......)

All right. Give me a moment to search through the list, and we'll find you.

(3 minutes later)

I think I've found you, Mr. Smith. Could you tell me your date of birth, just to make sure?

(........)

Ok, I have your profile! It seems you have 2 checking accounts and 2 savings accounts. Which account would you like to pull money out of?

(........)

Oh, you don't know? Well, how about I just make a guess then so the next time you come in you can complain about how the teller took the money out of the wrong account. Ok, sir?

(..)

Ok. How much cash do you need?

(........)

All right, 200 dollars. Do you have a form of identification I can see?

(!........!........!........!)

I understand that you've been banking with us for 20 years, Mr. Smith, but I've only worked here for 3 months. So you see, I don't really know anyone. Don't you have a driver's license or something I can see?

(.................................................................................)

(.........................................)

(....................)

Thank you. How would you like your cash?

(.....)

(chuckle chuckle) Oh yes- green! Haha that's very funny. Yes. Wish I hadn't heard it six times already today.

(.....?)

Oh nothing, Mr. Smith. Nothing at all. So if you don't care how you're getting your cash back, I'll just give you hundreds, ok?

(..)

Ok. Here you go- one, two.

(.......?)

Sure, I can break one of those hundreds into 20s for you. 20, 40, 60, 80, 100.

(.......?)

Sure, I can break one of those twenties into 5s for you. 5, 10, 15, 20.

(........?)

Sure, I can break your other hundred into twenties for you. 20, 40, 60, 80, 100. Could you please tell me why you didn't tell me this in the first place?

(..)

All right, I guess you don't have to.

(.......?)

Of course I can let you know your balance! You have $365 in your account. Have you ever thought about getting signed up for online banking? That would let you check your balance from home!

(........!)

Yes, sir. You go to heck too, sir. Thank you for banking with us, sir! Have a nice day, sir.

end scene

It's really not so bad once you get used to it.