The past few weeks (maybe months) have been hectic and rough for us. Hence the lack of blogging. I feel like we live such mundane lives that only consist of going to school, going to work, studying and sleeping. And who really wants to read about me complaining about school? Well I guess if you want to, here it goes. This semester kind of stinks. I kind of hate most of my classes, I feel like I'm putting in tons of effort and not getting much benefit in the grades department, therefore I'm feeling frustrated and discouraged. And when I'm stressed, everything goes to kaput. I don't eat as well, I rarely exercise (or think I don't have the time), and I'm slightly cranky.
And then I went to Vegas for work, which was fun and exciting to connect with the people I work with (I work remotely), but another thing to juggle with everything else.
And then I had a profound moment while in Vegas. I was side busting on one of my favorite motivational/health speakers who speaks at all of our work conventions, Dr. Roland Phillips who is a Chiropractor, who has gone to a whole new level (You can find him here) and he was telling someone how basically if you're always living in the future, if you're always thinking "oh once this semester is over, then I'll be able to have fun. Then I'll be able to relax and breath. Then I'll be able to exercise and eat right" then you will always be living in the future and you will never get there. If you think you can't be happy until XYZ happens, then XYZ will come and go and you won't even realize it until it's gone, and you still won't be happy.
It's genius right? It's a no brainier and yet in those month long moments of stress, it seems that nothing will go right, and that life will always be stressful.
Then Dr. Phillips asked the person he was speaking with (because I was side busting right?) to think of one of his proudest moments. For this gentleman it was winning a state championship. Dr. Phillips said to think of that proudest moment, and put it on top of that goal that you're trying to accomplish that is making you stressed. For example, think of graduating from school, feel what it feels like to win that state championship, and duplicate the winning feeling to what it will feel like to graduate from school.
Basically you are creating that moment that hasn't yet happened. You are creating it in the present moment and there is no need to be stressed. This really resonated with me. I'm trying to duplicate this thought process into my daily life, because life sure can get hectic and crazy with everything going on. Which is great, I just can't allow the stress to consume my life. I can do what needs to be done, and still be happy, eat right, exercise, and get good grades.
There you have it, my profound moment.
We are doing well. We are focusing on enjoying this phase of our lives. As stressful or not stressful as it is, I know we'll look back and appreciate what we accomplished. So I'm enjoying it!
November 1, 2011
September 12, 2011
girl crushes
What Is a Girl Crush?
A girl crush is when you meet a woman whose sense of style, beauty, brilliant achievements, or personal charisma makes you admire her, but it is by no means a physical attraction (or maybe it is). A girl crush means you hold another woman in such high regard that you aspire to be like that person.
Every girl has had a girl crush (whether you want to admit it or not), and most of these kinds of crushes date back to when we were just little lasses. The earliest I can remember...
The Olsen Twins.
A girl crush is when you meet a woman whose sense of style, beauty, brilliant achievements, or personal charisma makes you admire her, but it is by no means a physical attraction (or maybe it is). A girl crush means you hold another woman in such high regard that you aspire to be like that person.
Every girl has had a girl crush (whether you want to admit it or not), and most of these kinds of crushes date back to when we were just little lasses. The earliest I can remember...
The Olsen Twins.
I adored them in my awkward junior high girly way.
Let's not forget Vada Sultenfuss
Classic tomboy girl with a crazy family
This moved onto Kelly..
Kelly Kapowski
I basically just wanted to be her. She snagged the cutest bf, Zack Morris,
and had the best mall bangs...Like ever.
And she could just dance, with no lessons, then suddenly she could sing.
Oversize pants up to her bellybutton with a big metal belt? For real!
Oversize pants up to her bellybutton with a big metal belt? For real!
Uhh, I loved her.
Not long after Kelly came my most timeless girl crush…
Cher from Clueless changed my life...'Nuff said.
Then we had classic school girl innocence, Britney Spears
High school I had a mad crush on Faith Hill.
She had the perfect family, hot husband, and both could sing.
One of my all times, Idina Menzel
Once I had discovered Wicked, the role of Elphaba, her voice...
I can't get over how talented and beautiful she is.
To this day I listen to Wicked and Rent on repeat.
And she's cast in Glee? Hello?
Current mad girl crush, Lea Michele
She's can sing, she's hot, she's mysterious,
she's environmentally friendly (but what celebrity isn't. c'mon)
I'm smitten.
September 10, 2011
update
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.
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.
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.
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| My hot date |
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| 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.
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