We took summer classes.
I went to Portland.
We went on a cruise for our 1 year anniversary.
I moved my mom from Utah to Long Beach, CA.
We started school again.
I'm going to Portland in a week for my bff's baby shower.
I'm going to Portland again for the birth of said baby.
(she's the first of us to have a baby.)
We are barely above water between school, work, and actually spending time together.
And we are happy.
Now you're updated.
Maybe there will be a post on each of those.
And maybe not.
September 10, 2011
July 26, 2011
goals
I've been thinking about things I'd like to accomplish in my life... in no particular order
Either this shows I have no ambition in life, or those two things were so completely overwhelming that I lost all concentration or motivation to do anything else. But I still think I'll change the world.
Maybe there will be a revision to this post when my brain starts functioning again.
- run a marathon (maybe before a baby)
- get a masters (maybe before a baby)
Either this shows I have no ambition in life, or those two things were so completely overwhelming that I lost all concentration or motivation to do anything else. But I still think I'll change the world.
Maybe there will be a revision to this post when my brain starts functioning again.
In other news, I have found one of my callings in life: hats!
BIG hats!
My new hats job is to keep all those fancy thoughts, ambitions and motivations inside my head.
Done and done!
BIG hats!
My new hats job is to keep all those fancy thoughts, ambitions and motivations inside my head.
Done and done!
July 17, 2011
A 'real' beach
The good looking man I spend most of my time with suggested we go on a date to the beach.
A "real" beach is what he wanted.
We normally go to Ocean Beach and he wanted a different flavor.
"You know, a real beach, like Pacific Beach"
Because Ocean Beach isn't a real beach at all.
So off to Pacific Beach we went.
 | |||
| My hot date |
 |
| Trying to teach him to have me in focus instead of the ocean. This is progress. |
 |
| Surfer walking through my sunset shot turns into a great photo |
We had a great time snuggling on the beach, watching cute kids play frisbee in their swimsuits
and swatting the flies away.
I always have the best date ever.
and swatting the flies away.
I always have the best date ever.
July 10, 2011
the Surge
It's been 2 weeks since the Surge, and here is what went down. Dr. Murph cut my boob. Yup. She did. In two places. On the same boob.
I had been feeling super anxious about the surgery and someone whose name will not be mentioned, sent me some drugs, illegally through the mail to help with the anxiety the day of the surgery, because I would not be 'going under'. My anxiety was heightened with the nurse called me a few days before the surgery to give me the run down of how things would go, and she causally mentioned that I may not have movement in my arm for a few days. Whatt What? Yeah I freaked out, because I didn't think this was that invasive of a surgery. Then she told me that the Doc probably wouldn't be prescribing me any medication...you're probably thinking "but she just told you you would have mobility of your arm...?" I thought the exact same thing. Get the minor freak out? Oh, and I was supposed to take a test the day after the surgery, the test I was missing for the surgery...and with no mobility? How was that going to happen?
So the morning of, at 5am, I popped that lovely little blue pill, on an empty stomach (because you can't eat for a long time before surgery, which sucks) Mr. B man drove me to the out patent clinic, which wasn't open yet so we got to sit outside. And that's when I realized I was high. My body doesn't react that well to medications. There are plenty of stories about me on drugs...ask for details.
They had me sign some lovely papers, which I probably signed Cookie Monster for all I know. And for the record, I wouldn't be a good drug dealer or user. I feel the need to tell everyone that I'm high, and that I took pills, that weren't prescribed to me. It's an issue. I'm sure they just smiled sweetly and looked at my husband and said with their eyes "could you take your wife to the waiting room so we don't have to report her illegal activity?"
Shortly after, they took me back, had me put on the lovely gown (which I put on backwards and the nurse tried to switch it around on me while I was lying on the table. It was awkward) and the nurser asked me to use the lovely surgical pen to mark where the cysts were. Insert note: I really wanted to write affirmations on my boob with a sharpie (I was super nervous about the surgery remember?) but the nurse told me that wasn't a good idea because the sharpie marker could have something bad they don't' want getting inside my boob. I understand but whatevs. I followed her instructions. So while in the bathroom, I marked the cysts, then I wrote lovely little affirmations all over my boob because now I had a surgical pen. Nothing holding me back.
The lovely nurse strapped my arms down (I had some anxiety about that but the little blue pills helped), sanitized me, put up the blue shield so I couldn't see and I got a lovely heating vent under my blanket to keep me warm. So enjoyable. I was numbed (which didn't hurt at all, thank goodness) It was so bizarre to feel the pressure but I really couldn't feel anything. We chatted. Dr. Murph has pet parrots. One is named Auggie, she likes to go to the wild animal park....and suddenly an hour had passed and she was done. I shyly asked if I would have movement in my arm. She laughed at me as if that was a silly question and reassured me that the nurse didn't know what she was talking about, and that I would indeed have movement. I sat up off the table, got dressed and that was it. I literally walked out like it was no big deal. It was no big deal.
I was cystless.
Ben wasn't in the waiting room. I had to wait for him, but I didn't care. You would think I would be freaked out that my husband left his wife for surgery and went gallivanting through San Diego, although my little blue pill left me without a care in the world. He finally showed up. He had to leave the waiting room because there were these annoying patients, an elderly father and son who were both in there for surgery, and yelling at each other because they couldn't find their cigarettes. Sounds lovely and I probably would have left too.
I felt amazing. Still high, but less high. No pain, what-so-ever. Doc Murph wrote me a prescription for Vicodin, which I didn't fill because one pill would have killed me. Remember, I don't do pills. B man and I left, I recounted the entire experience of what happened behind the closed door. He was probably in complete overwhelm and I yacked and insisted he drive us to the grocery store.
I was so hyper. It was odd. Ben kept asking me to slow down because he was in more shock after the surgery than I was. We got home, I texted pics of my incisions to everyone I know and watched tv and studied for my test.
And that was that. I had surgery. I had my breast cut open. Twice.
And for the following week I had one over sized looking breast because I kept an icepack in my shirt. Although I'm sure no one even knew because I wore a jacket, and if it leaked you couldn't tell. I'm the only one who knew.
The most bizarre thing about surgery, is that that part of your body isn't your body anymore. It is just something cool that you can show anyone who is willing to take a peek. It's no longer my breast. I found myself opening my shirt to anyone who was interested.
Weird, exciting. And I passed my test the day after with flying colors.
Like I said before. Me = Super Woman
I had been feeling super anxious about the surgery and someone whose name will not be mentioned, sent me some drugs, illegally through the mail to help with the anxiety the day of the surgery, because I would not be 'going under'. My anxiety was heightened with the nurse called me a few days before the surgery to give me the run down of how things would go, and she causally mentioned that I may not have movement in my arm for a few days. Whatt What? Yeah I freaked out, because I didn't think this was that invasive of a surgery. Then she told me that the Doc probably wouldn't be prescribing me any medication...you're probably thinking "but she just told you you would have mobility of your arm...?" I thought the exact same thing. Get the minor freak out? Oh, and I was supposed to take a test the day after the surgery, the test I was missing for the surgery...and with no mobility? How was that going to happen?
So the morning of, at 5am, I popped that lovely little blue pill, on an empty stomach (because you can't eat for a long time before surgery, which sucks) Mr. B man drove me to the out patent clinic, which wasn't open yet so we got to sit outside. And that's when I realized I was high. My body doesn't react that well to medications. There are plenty of stories about me on drugs...ask for details.
They had me sign some lovely papers, which I probably signed Cookie Monster for all I know. And for the record, I wouldn't be a good drug dealer or user. I feel the need to tell everyone that I'm high, and that I took pills, that weren't prescribed to me. It's an issue. I'm sure they just smiled sweetly and looked at my husband and said with their eyes "could you take your wife to the waiting room so we don't have to report her illegal activity?"
Shortly after, they took me back, had me put on the lovely gown (which I put on backwards and the nurse tried to switch it around on me while I was lying on the table. It was awkward) and the nurser asked me to use the lovely surgical pen to mark where the cysts were. Insert note: I really wanted to write affirmations on my boob with a sharpie (I was super nervous about the surgery remember?) but the nurse told me that wasn't a good idea because the sharpie marker could have something bad they don't' want getting inside my boob. I understand but whatevs. I followed her instructions. So while in the bathroom, I marked the cysts, then I wrote lovely little affirmations all over my boob because now I had a surgical pen. Nothing holding me back.
 |
| Pre-surgery anxiety |
 |
| I got to wear these cute booties |
The lovely nurse strapped my arms down (I had some anxiety about that but the little blue pills helped), sanitized me, put up the blue shield so I couldn't see and I got a lovely heating vent under my blanket to keep me warm. So enjoyable. I was numbed (which didn't hurt at all, thank goodness) It was so bizarre to feel the pressure but I really couldn't feel anything. We chatted. Dr. Murph has pet parrots. One is named Auggie, she likes to go to the wild animal park....and suddenly an hour had passed and she was done. I shyly asked if I would have movement in my arm. She laughed at me as if that was a silly question and reassured me that the nurse didn't know what she was talking about, and that I would indeed have movement. I sat up off the table, got dressed and that was it. I literally walked out like it was no big deal. It was no big deal.
 |
| Where they did the deed |
I was cystless.
 |
| Cysts. Think small limes |
Ben wasn't in the waiting room. I had to wait for him, but I didn't care. You would think I would be freaked out that my husband left his wife for surgery and went gallivanting through San Diego, although my little blue pill left me without a care in the world. He finally showed up. He had to leave the waiting room because there were these annoying patients, an elderly father and son who were both in there for surgery, and yelling at each other because they couldn't find their cigarettes. Sounds lovely and I probably would have left too.
I felt amazing. Still high, but less high. No pain, what-so-ever. Doc Murph wrote me a prescription for Vicodin, which I didn't fill because one pill would have killed me. Remember, I don't do pills. B man and I left, I recounted the entire experience of what happened behind the closed door. He was probably in complete overwhelm and I yacked and insisted he drive us to the grocery store.
I was so hyper. It was odd. Ben kept asking me to slow down because he was in more shock after the surgery than I was. We got home, I texted pics of my incisions to everyone I know and watched tv and studied for my test.
 |
| My affirmations I took into surgery |
And that was that. I had surgery. I had my breast cut open. Twice.
And for the following week I had one over sized looking breast because I kept an icepack in my shirt. Although I'm sure no one even knew because I wore a jacket, and if it leaked you couldn't tell. I'm the only one who knew.
 |
| Ice pack |
The most bizarre thing about surgery, is that that part of your body isn't your body anymore. It is just something cool that you can show anyone who is willing to take a peek. It's no longer my breast. I found myself opening my shirt to anyone who was interested.
Weird, exciting. And I passed my test the day after with flying colors.
Like I said before. Me = Super Woman
 | ||||||||
| Day after surgery, my BFF Aaron came to visit |
 |
| The beautiful surprise roses I got int he mail from my lovely Shai |
June 18, 2011
New perspective on my boobs
So I've been overwhelmed with stress lately. I normally handle my busy life pretty well, and I kind of like it that way. But something happened last week that has caused me to be in complete overwhelm. Then a friend came to visit, and he changed my perspective on things.
To make a long story short, I have these cysts. I've known they were there for a few years and never really thought much about it. I was advised by a women's clinic to get them checked out by a specialist and then was accepted into their program for everything to be paid for, so I thought "what the hell" right? I didn't think much about it.
While I was in the waiting room, a girl walked out crying. I knew something bad had just happened. Then during my appointment, the doctor told me she had just diagnosed her with breast cancer. She's 27. I'm 27. She has the same story as me. You know, the story of "oh yeah you have these abnormally large cysts in your breast, but it's not a big deal. come back and we'll ultra sound them. You have nothing to worry about" and BAM! She has breast cancer. Did I mention she's 27?
Get the overwhelm?
But my instincts kept telling me I was fine, it's not anything to be worried about.
The breast specialist, who is awesome! She has this crazy gray curly hair that is all over the place. And she is so sweet and gentle and kept holding my hand. It made me feel safe. I want to be her hippie boob BFF. I think we already are. She told me that we should do a biopsy, and if the women's clinic is going to pay for it, we might as well just take them out. I agreed. "What the hell?" Right?
Ben and I "celebrated" with Spicy Ta-Ta sushi. It was only appropriate with the situation with my spicy ta-tas.
Then they scheduled the surgery. It's on a Monday, the day of a test, I still have 3 more days of school to attend that week, and I'M BEING CUT OPEN!
The overwhelm set in. I just freaked out. Not about the the cysts, but about the surgery. It just was inconvenient. But I could handle it. Again, but instincts told me I was fine. I can take the test the day after {not ideal but manageable} and I can make it happen. I kind of forgot for a minute that I was super woman and could do anything. I had the fear of being cut open, the violation on my body, my femininity, my breasts. They are kind of special to me, ya know?
Then one of my oldest friends came to visit. He just had surgery too. And you know what he said to me that changed it all?? He said "I wasn't nervous anymore once I realized, 'if the doctor screws up, he screws up. There is nothing I can do about it but be positive.' And everything turned out fine." Well that's logical. My doctor isn't going to screw up. My breast will be fine. My cysts are just happy little cysts that are coming out. I will be fine. I need to stop feeding the situation with negative energy and just be happy about the situation. This is a good thing. I'm getting things taken care of, it's being paid for. And I'm healthy!
New Perspective.
Duh, I'm super woman and my boobs can handle anything. Duh!
Surgery is Monday the 27th in the AM. If ya want to think about my boob during that time, I'd be ok with it.
To make a long story short, I have these cysts. I've known they were there for a few years and never really thought much about it. I was advised by a women's clinic to get them checked out by a specialist and then was accepted into their program for everything to be paid for, so I thought "what the hell" right? I didn't think much about it.
While I was in the waiting room, a girl walked out crying. I knew something bad had just happened. Then during my appointment, the doctor told me she had just diagnosed her with breast cancer. She's 27. I'm 27. She has the same story as me. You know, the story of "oh yeah you have these abnormally large cysts in your breast, but it's not a big deal. come back and we'll ultra sound them. You have nothing to worry about" and BAM! She has breast cancer. Did I mention she's 27?
Get the overwhelm?
But my instincts kept telling me I was fine, it's not anything to be worried about.
The breast specialist, who is awesome! She has this crazy gray curly hair that is all over the place. And she is so sweet and gentle and kept holding my hand. It made me feel safe. I want to be her hippie boob BFF. I think we already are. She told me that we should do a biopsy, and if the women's clinic is going to pay for it, we might as well just take them out. I agreed. "What the hell?" Right?
Ben and I "celebrated" with Spicy Ta-Ta sushi. It was only appropriate with the situation with my spicy ta-tas.
Then they scheduled the surgery. It's on a Monday, the day of a test, I still have 3 more days of school to attend that week, and I'M BEING CUT OPEN!
The overwhelm set in. I just freaked out. Not about the the cysts, but about the surgery. It just was inconvenient. But I could handle it. Again, but instincts told me I was fine. I can take the test the day after {not ideal but manageable} and I can make it happen. I kind of forgot for a minute that I was super woman and could do anything. I had the fear of being cut open, the violation on my body, my femininity, my breasts. They are kind of special to me, ya know?
Then one of my oldest friends came to visit. He just had surgery too. And you know what he said to me that changed it all?? He said "I wasn't nervous anymore once I realized, 'if the doctor screws up, he screws up. There is nothing I can do about it but be positive.' And everything turned out fine." Well that's logical. My doctor isn't going to screw up. My breast will be fine. My cysts are just happy little cysts that are coming out. I will be fine. I need to stop feeding the situation with negative energy and just be happy about the situation. This is a good thing. I'm getting things taken care of, it's being paid for. And I'm healthy!
New Perspective.
Duh, I'm super woman and my boobs can handle anything. Duh!
Surgery is Monday the 27th in the AM. If ya want to think about my boob during that time, I'd be ok with it.
May 31, 2011
today...
I'm thinking I'll get a Masters.
We'll see how long that lasts but I'm thinking that is the next step for me.
I've been so baby hungry {and still am, don't get me wrong} but I feel like that getting a masters is the next step.
I was chatting with a girl in one of my classes who said you can get through the Social Work program in a year. It might kill you, but you can do it. Maybe I'll push for 2 years so I don't die.
That's for today anyway.
We'll see how long that lasts but I'm thinking that is the next step for me.
I've been so baby hungry {and still am, don't get me wrong} but I feel like that getting a masters is the next step.
I was chatting with a girl in one of my classes who said you can get through the Social Work program in a year. It might kill you, but you can do it. Maybe I'll push for 2 years so I don't die.
That's for today anyway.
May 29, 2011
My Mr. is 29!
He is my sweetie, the light of my life and we had such a wonderful day celebrating!
Yours truly woke up early to get crepes going for the birthday boy to wake up to. One of both of our favorite childhood memories, waking up to pancakes {of some sort} on your birthday. I attempted to make almond flour crepes and they turned out beautifully! I was a little nervous, but the experiment turned out successful.
I needed to go grocery shopping, one of my favorite Saturday activities (really) and he decided to come along with me {unusual}. So I decided to surprise him by swing by Nordstrom to pick out a pair of Toms that he's been dreaming about. {the first pair he got, we had ordered off line and they were too small}
Yours truly woke up early to get crepes going for the birthday boy to wake up to. One of both of our favorite childhood memories, waking up to pancakes {of some sort} on your birthday. I attempted to make almond flour crepes and they turned out beautifully! I was a little nervous, but the experiment turned out successful.
I needed to go grocery shopping, one of my favorite Saturday activities (really) and he decided to come along with me {unusual}. So I decided to surprise him by swing by Nordstrom to pick out a pair of Toms that he's been dreaming about. {the first pair he got, we had ordered off line and they were too small}
He went with the lace ups. They are super styling.
We went to Costco and the Mexican market. Not part of the birthday celebration but necessary for the week ahead. He was shopped out and requested to go home to read Harry Potter. He's on book 7 and it is absolutely darling to see his inner child come out when he reads these books. He reads them between semesters, and now has nothing to do until classes start. Well, he has plenty to do with his internship and applying for fall internships...but you know what I mean. Summer classes will start before he knows it.
I needed a pair of toms too {not really} but I took back a pair I hadn't worn that were too big and exchanged for another pair. I had my eye set on the new crocheted ones, but by the time I got back to Nordy's they were sold out. They weren't that morning but the birthday boy couldn't stand the chaos. So I opted for the black sparkly ones. They aren't black crocheted, but they are beauties.
The birthday boy chose The Fish Market for his birthday dinner. Ah-maz-ing meal! We sat on the deck, right on the water, enjoying the sun and passing boats.
Conversations of our life, our future, our relationship, and observing the two drunk men who ordered 7 rounds of bread and beers with their meal. {I was nervous how they were going to get home}
I feel so grateful to call him my husband, and the life we are making together. I'm a lucky girl.
The birthday boy ordered tilapia with mango salsa.
I was jealous at first, until I tasted mine. I knew I had made the right decision.
I ordered the red snapper with tomatoes and rice. Delicious! I was quite pleased.
The boat we got married on cruised past us.
It was very sweet and memorable.
Awwww....
Opening his birthday gifts.
A toms sticker {that he already got that morning}
and a picture of the rolling briefcase he wants that we're waiting to get until after
our summer loan money comes in.
Complements of the chef
We enjoyed this incredible chocolate fudge gnosh dessert.
It was really amazing.
Complements of the chef
We enjoyed this incredible chocolate fudge gnosh dessert.
It was really amazing.
After the wonderful meal, we enjoyed the water and each others company.
Ok maybe I'm getting a little too sappy, but we had a lovely evening.
After dinner we walked through Seaport Village.
We reminisced about the events since his last birthday.
Last year we went to Disneyland for his birthday, we got married, school...
and his classic "Ya know, I don't feel that old. 29 isn't old. I'm healthy, and have my whole life ahead of me"
Then we closed off the night with our favorite activity, cuddling on the couch and watching a show.
Since we had the incredibly rich dessert at dinner, we had the birthday cake the next day.
I made his favorite sweet potato chocolate torte (gluten and sugar free)
Notice the 2 and 9. Cute.
One of my favorite qualities about B is he makes up songs on the spot. It's darling. And he made one up last night as we were walking the boardwalk. I wanted to record him singing it but he couldn't remember it. So this is the one he did on the spot. Not the same one, but it's cute.
Yeah, he's in bed. Oh well.
Notice the 2 and 9. Cute.
One of my favorite qualities about B is he makes up songs on the spot. It's darling. And he made one up last night as we were walking the boardwalk. I wanted to record him singing it but he couldn't remember it. So this is the one he did on the spot. Not the same one, but it's cute.
Yeah, he's in bed. Oh well.
He is my joy!
Happy Birthday, my love!
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