Viva Las Vegas!!

I went to Las Vegas last weekend with the boy because he was the best man in a friend's wedding. That's right folks, a Vegas wedding. It was awesome.
First thing's first. In our hotel, there was a wine shot bar. And where we went for dinner had a pool of fire. Just fire, in a pool of water.

Pay as you go wine shot bar

Holy Shit! Water on Fire!

They got married at a very sweet little chapel, it was a short ceremony and they wrote their own vows. They both wrote their own, very nerdy, vows.
Some requisite wedding shots:

Champagne!

Then we went to the Valley of Fire for photos after. Oh. My. God. The Valley of Fire is amazing!!! It's so beautiful, I couldn't get over it.
First, they have killer bees. True story. So that's the first thing we see when we get there. Beware of Killer bees.

Africanized Honey Bee warning. Gee, thanks.

Totally worth it for this view:

That's Phil.

 Several of us decided that we needed to climb the rocks. Dunno if it's allowed, but we went for it.

Falling to my doooooooom!

And for the record, these were my perfectly-appropriate rock climbing shoes. 

Seems legit.

So that was it, my glorious trip to Las Vegas. At least we didn't end up on a Soviet Submarine. (FYI, that's a Doctor Who reference. Watch it. You're welcome.)

It starts.

Today is my first official day as Mommy-sub. My step-sister left for Germany and France last night so I technically started yesterday at 4, but I felt like I was just babysitting like I normally do. Waking up in the morning and getting them to school? Mommy's job.
Last night was okay. We went to swimming then came home, had dinner and pretty much went straight to bed. I woke up about 10 minutes later than I wanted to, but had enough time to get the kids totally ready (including teeth brushed, toys away and beds made) I even had time to put a french braid in Sarah's hair and we were early for school. Yeah, I rock.
The downside? I don't have a job so now I'm sitting in the house by myself. I'm not usually up this early to begin with, and I'm bored out of my mind.
I leave you with this: I may need to make an entire post dedicated to the random places I find a Sleeping Sarah. Because really kid?

See, it’s all about budgeting your time

I got this blog title from C.J. Cregg's first lines in the show West Wing, upon which my blog (and life) are loosely based. See, our heroine, C.J., is running on a treadmill at the gym. She is talking to a cute guy on the adjacent treadmill and she says, "You can have a normal life. You’d be amazed at how normal I can be. See, it’s all about budgeting your time. This time, this hour, this is my time. Five a.m. to six a.m. I can workout, as you see. I can think about personal matters. I can meet an interesting man. [Her beeper goes off.] The trick is..." C.J. checks her beeper while still running on the treadmill. What she finds on her beeper is distracting, however, and she falls off the machine. In a ridiculously C.J. fashion.

I decided to start working out.

I'll let that sink in.

Better? Okay. I'm a lot like CJ in that I would totally be that girl falling on a treadmill at the gym. Also why I don't go to the gym.
But I do need to start doing something to get healthier. I'm lazy. Really I am. I like, nay, love television. I am watching In Plain Sight on Netflix as I type. And I have been watching 6+ hour Bones marathons on a decently regular basis. Not to mention the literally days of my life dedicated to Doctor Who. I love Doctor Who.
I saw a thing on Pinterest *pinterest!* about doing "workouts" to television shows based upon character actions and/or quotes. I usually stick to drinking games based upon this premise.
So I made my own. They all seemed pretty easy ... at the time. 

My, how wrong one can be about one's own abilities.

Here is my Doctor Who "workout" list. If you are a fan of (Whovian)/have ever seen/heard of the show, you should be duly impressed. I had NO IDEA what I was getting into.

When anyone says Doctor: 10 jumping jacks
When anyone says Run: run in place 30 seconds
When the Doctor uses the Sonic Screwdriver: 5 Pushups
Anyone goes in/out of the TARDIS: 10 squats
If, Gallifrey forbid, the Doctor loses the TARDIS: 30 mountain climbers
The TARDIS sound: 20 sit-ups
See a Dalek: RUN in place 30 seconds
See any other monster: 10 twisting sit-ups (the ones that work obliques)
Anyone says their catchphrase: 10 second plank/ 3 push-ups
Anyone breaks time: Yoga that shit. Down dog/ plank/ cobra/ up dog/ down dog. Hold 5 seconds each. Double if it's Rose Tyler, because screw her. If you needed a reason to hate her, this is it.
Any time you giggle/ chortle/ laugh out loud: Yoga that shit. Mountain/ touch your toes/ half up (flat back)/ touch again/ mountain/ prayer position. No hold, this should flow.
If the Doctor rambles on or makes up words to explain everything that only serves to confound those around him: Take a good Horse stance, because you're going to do an 8 step block. [Right low block, left low, right inside to outside, left inside to outside, right high block, left high block, right outside to in, left outside to in.]
If it's listed as "anyone" and that someone is The Doctor: Double it. Because screw me.
And if, by chance, it's an episode that The Doctor meets a meanie that he wants to save, give up, because when he offers Meanie an out to save themselves, you're doing all of the above, cut numbers in half except when this causes you to have an uneven side (ie. twist sit-ups/ yoga/ 8 count block) then add 5 push-ups to make up for it.

This was MY FIRST WORKOUT.

My legs still hurt. : (
I'll do this again tomorrow, but for now, I'm working on drinking to In Plain Sight, thankyouverymuch.

So now I can embarrass myself in the privacy of my own living room. Sometimes in front of Jen. : )

Take Out the Trash Day

Dear Only Faithful Reader, this is not so much a "blog post" as it is a brain dump. So Amanda, try to not judge me too hard. J'adore.

I have been thinking a lot on how I never finish anything, about how I aim for the lowest possible option when I do anything. I shoot for the C+ to pass, I do an easy job that pays shit because I don't think I can do anything else, I take pictures and then do nothing with them because I'm afraid of others' judgement, I make obligations and then dread them, I start projects and leave them half finished. 

I would insert a picture here, but that would be way too mortifying for me.

I have a box, actually I could fill a room with half finished crochet/ knitting/ sewing projects, long abandoned, accumulating dust with no hope of ever becoming what it started out as. I literally have a box filled with half or 3/4 completed bracelets. You know the ones, the stupid friendship bracelets made with embroidery floss that everyone has in the summer and "Oh my God! I'm never going to take it off because we're best of friends forever and ever and ever!!!" and then they're cut off well before the first day of school. Yeah. Those. I have probably 12 from years ranging 2000-last summer. All well thought out, none finished. 

I don't really know why. It's not like a 3 year old is going to judge me on my crocheting skills. Maybe I just get tired of it, I don't know. This one I totally don't get.

College. Dear college, hello Mr. C and D grades. I was glad for a C. I am smart, and I'm not just saying that to whatever, I mean, I am very smart. And I am very capable of doing well and getting good grades and being smart or something. (See what I did there was a little facetious.) But no, I was excited for that C and Bs would be shocking. I've been trying to figure that out for, oh I don't know, 21 years? I have always wanted my teachers/professors to like me. Maybe I don't believe I'm actually as smart as I think I am. I don't think that I'm as articulate on paper as I am in person and I've always been terrified that authority figures will think I'm an utter idiot. I once handed in a paper that I worked my ass off on. I handed it to my prof, she looked at it, made a face, crossed out a couple of paragraphs and then an entire page, and handed it back to me. She gave me a day extension. I went home and wept. I've never told anyone that. Well, there you go internet. 

The next semester I handed in an 8 page paper that was supposed to be no less than 15 pages for a professor that I knew was a stickler for page count. I got an A on the paper and had so many points taken off for length that I got a C and I didn't care. I acted like I didn't care. Did I actually care? Maybe. That professor was a douche. If it was for anyone else I would have cared more. 

Except I did mostly that exact thing for everyone. A/Bs on tests and always participated in class, then didn't hand in anything else. Because I knew it would suck. Because everything I do sucks. 

My job. I am a Nanny, and don't get me wrong, I love my job. I adore the kids I watch and I love doing it. Let me say that first. Now, seriously people, I am a nanny. My friends all have real jobs. Even Logie has a government job where she is responsible for kids' lives and safety. Politics, government, business,  public safety, law. I feel like all of my friends have real adult people jobs and I'm stuck here watching children for barely over minimum wage for an absurd amount of hours, and that's when I can find a job. I've been unemployed for so long that I would kill for crappy underemployment like last year. Who needs benefits? 401k's are for chumps. IRS tax withholdings? Psssht, lame. 

Why can't I get a real job? Why can't I get a job? I've had interviews and sent so many messages to families and resumes to businesses and heard nothing. Honestly it gets so very discouraging. 

At growth group this week we talked about doing things out of duty versus doing things out of love. I don't think I realized how discouraged I was with everything in my life until I was asked what call to service I have denied because I felt unqualified? It's not a call to service that I've denied. I feel it may be everything in my life I've denied because I feel unqualified. 

At what point in your life did you first feel the joy of serving God? And I have been struggling ever since to remember the last time I felt joy at all. I have feelings. I have all of the other feelings, I just can't remember the last time, or if ever, I have been joyous. Maybe I don't know what the word itself means.  

There's a lot of things that I don't know. For being a very smart person, there are simply a lot of things that I do not know and a lot of things that I do not want to acknowledge about myself. Psychoanalysts for another day, I suppose. 

Thanks for sticking with me (mostly Amanda).