Loathed Expectations

Would you believe I've never made a New Year's resolution? Ever?

I've had goals before, but none of this proclaiming them on New Year's Eve type stuff. It's just not my style. I'm not really sure why, exactly.

Oh, wait. Sure I do. I loathe expectations.

That's right. LOATHE. So much more effective than just disliking, don't you think? I believe that comes from an unwillingness to live with disappointment. And by that, I mean disappointing others. Can't. Handle. It.

It's really awful, too. I really can't stand to know someone is disappointed in me, so I never want to agree to do something for someone, because then I know they're going to expect it. What if I fail?!

This is usually art related, so I take the "what if my arms fall off, like that lady in that story that slept all funky, smooshing her fingers all night, and the lack of blood made them turn black and fall off?!" route. It's not good.

Well, maybe I embellished a little bit, but you get the gist of what goes through my head. Some unforeseen event will stop me from fulfilling my end of the bargain, and disappointment will inevitably be my fate.

And it gets worse! On top of all that mental instability are the tiny people pleaser and the tiny rebel that live inside of me. The tiny people pleaser yearns to keep everyone placated by shouting, "Sure!" to absolutely everything, while the disgruntled rebel refuses to be bridled by expectations and sounds a little something like this: "You want me to do what? Ohhhh, okaaaaay! Hang on just a sec while I go do THE EXACT OPPOSITE!" It's really worse than not good.

Now that you're all quite certain that I'm battling with schizophrenia, I would like to announce that the husband person and I have decided to make New Year's Resolutions this year! O.0

I've been blabbing all about this children's book I want to write & illustrate, right? Well, 2010 is as good a year as any, wouldn't you say? I would. So, that's my New Year's resolution. It's something I've wanted to do since I was a little girl, and I'm going to do it. I want to help shape kid's imaginations, make them feel important/ like they belong, and this is how I'm going to do it.

Todd, whom I now enjoy referring to as Mr. T, would simply like to beat me arm wrestling (he's really never beat me), and lift the Christmas tree with one hand (read: without collapsing with a hernia). He actually said he wants to get in shape, and be healthier, but I like the funny version better. Don't you? I'm so mean.

So...what are your pesky resolutions?

Her Majesty's A Pretty Nice Girl

I think it's fairly obvious to everyone that I have a fairly mild, yet terminal, case of the scatterbrain. Apparently, last month I decided to grace 20SB with my presence, and sign up for a blog swap! Yeah. Totally forgot about it! Thankfully, my partner decided to shoot me an email. Bless him.

His name is Kendall, and from what I can tell, he's quite the character. I've visited his blog a few times now, and think he's definitely worth the click. If you're anything like me, though, you might want to avoid Thursdays. They're definitely TMI. ^_^

Okay. So, we may be drastically different, but since I'm the self proclaimed Queen of Comparisons, I thought I'd give Sir Kendall a small introduction via a List of Similarities.

I know no uncreepy way to do this. So, here goes:

1. We wield the ability to strike up a conversation with a brick wall.
2. We have a possibly unhealthy admiration for apple juice.
3. Our general attire consists of jeans and a hoodie.
4. We share an obviously founded loathe of noodly handshakes.
5. Our childhood inability to write neatly resulted in ocd penmanship.
6. We don't smoke, but love the aroma of a pipe.
7. We do NOT understand the strange attraction most gals have to Edward Cullen, but totally have the hots for House. Okay-he may not totally agree with that last part, but he did say he had a pimped out cane.
8. We ♥ Apple products.
9. Deep healing breaths are part of an elevator ride.
10. We ♥ Princess Bride. Sigh.
11. Our ocd spans out from penmanship to encompass the potty and the kitchen...I wonder if he calls oven mitts Po-Po's? It's only natural. They are there to "serve and protect".
12. You'll find us barefoot more often than not.
13. The day we discovered Stuff White People Like was a good day.
14.We share the belief that everyone should know how to drive a stick.
15.We both have the tendency to wander off during guided tours.

So, he's like my twin...only not short and white! So, tune in tomorrow for his highly anticipated post.

Oh, and I'll be posting over at his place. So, come comment. I need moral support, folks. ^_^

*I know. I'm like the scary internet girl that shows up on your doorstep jabbering on about how "we just have so much in common!". Right?

Kisses For The Missis

Despite my semi-strict Must Post Daily rule, I've been on an unintentional mini hiatus. I've managed to stay just busy enough to keep from writing, and I feel majorly guilty! Like my loyal readers are lost without me. Hold yourselves together folks!

I apologize to my faithful few. I heart you.

Now, for this first kiss post.

My first REAL kiss story is probably pretty lame, but I'm okay with that. At 17 I'd had a peck on the cheek or two, but nothing more than that, and nary a boyfriend. On top of being a little afraid of men-having grown up seeing my Mom get knocked around-I have never, and probably will never be good at flirting.

Anyhow, I'm 17 and head over heels for Todd. Yes, the same Todd as my husband person. We had been dating for probably three months before he built up the courage to kiss me. At the rate we went, holding hands and hugging took those first two and a half months.

So, there we were. Standing by his truck in my driveway in the dark. We had already said goodbye and were both just lingering. I knew he wanted to kiss me, and I wanted him to. So I was all looking up at the stars innocently. Waiting.

When he came in for the kill? I freaked. I giggled like an idiot and buried my head in his chest. He kissed the top of my head instead and hugged me. I could tell he wanted to choke me, but it was involuntary. It was cold and we were both shivering and chattering teeth. I hugged him into his truck and he drove home.

The next night, in my room, we sat indian style in the floor. We were playing cards or monopoly or something. He leaned over and kissed me.

We were so cute. That first one was a little awkward, but nice enough to get me hooked. Kisses are my favorite.

Bruised Knees and Ice Monsters

Saturday night the husband person and I went ice skating with some friends. We'd never been before, and it was awesome. Todd got a little closer to the ice than he'd intended(a few times) and I whacked my knee into a wall, but overall it was fun.

Apparently ice skates have to cut off the circulation to your feet in order for you to successfully make turns and do swirlies(which are my favorite). It took me about an hour to leave the safety of the wall and venture to swirl. My feet were pretty much numb, but I lapped Todd and welcomed my new found freedom.

I quickly learned that hiking your pants up-all lady like of course-is not a good idea on ice. All adjustments are better made on warm/dry ground. I also learned that using the wall as a stopping device can and will bruise the heck out of your knee, and the kids with the little metal training bar things learn a whole lot faster than the adults. Ice monsters.