Birthday!

Guys. I'm OLD. Like old enough where I had to arrange my birthday shenanigans around baby showers and a friend's son's fourth birthday party. Old enough to refer to myself as 'almost thirty' in conversations. Old enough to need a full eight hours of sleep a day. The only thing making me feel better about this is harassing my dad about being old enough to have a twenty eight year old daughter. No wonder I'm his favorite. Anyways, instead of reflecting on this past year, which has been wonderful, I wanted to think more about the future. So, here are twenty eight things I want to accomplish this year.

1. Pay off all my credit cards. And somebody needs to put some type of law in place that forbids credit card companies from giving those suckers out to anybody under twenty five.

2. Run a marathon. (Already signed up for one of those suckers.)

3. Read more. I did attempt to do that last year, but spent six months on one book because Game of Thrones is hard.

4. Travel more. There are eight year olds out there who have logged more miles than me. What can I say, I love The Sunshine State. 

5. Visit my family more. They drive me a special kind of crazy, but there is a level of happiness that I can only achieve when I'm with them.

6. More girl time. No matter how much any girl describes herself as 'one of the guys', there's just nothing like emerging yourself in weekends dedicated to all things nail polish and wine and gossip.

7. Learn how to knit. Mostly because I have a strong obsession with scarves and hats and would prefer to point at the poorly scarf around my neck and proudly proclaim "I made this!"

8. Go outside more.

9. Complain less. Very few things in my life warrant a complaint out of me and I need to remember that.

10. Drive less. I live about 1/2 of a mile from everything. Time to lessen my carbon footprint and hop on the bike....it's somewhere around here.

11. Smile more. I am the proud owner of a resting bitch face, not smiling tends to scare strangers.

12. Kick this Target addiction.

13. Stop lying about kicking my Target addiction.

14. Quit smoking. This back and forth of not smoking for two months and giving myself permission to have a few cigarettes when I go out needs to go away for good.

15. Eat more veggies. I eat a million different fruits a day, but most veggies make me want a donut.

16. Get a passport. Just in case...

17. Worry less. Apparently turning  twenty eight brings about the wrinkles, so I've seen on my face heard.

18. Make more friends. Making friends as an adult is tricky but you can meet some wonderful people as you get older.

19. Be nicer. I consider myself a pretty  nice person, but I have my moments that I'd love to get rid of.

20. Reconnect. My high school reunion was last month and it put me back in touch with some great people that I don't want to lose touch with again.

21. See snow. I did see it once when I was three. I think Lake City got a solid 1/2 an inch of snow that we enjoyed for roughly an hour. I'm not a fan of the cold, but I could really get on board with sitting in a cabin and looking at some snow covered mountains out of a window.

22. Volunteer more. Every week I tell myself I'm going to volunteer at the ASPCA on Saturdays, but you know, sleep. 

23. Go pick up both my diplomas from UCF that have been sitting there since 2009, because I just can't bring myself to deal with the parking ever ever again.

24. Save, save, save. I'm not sure for what yet, but I do know that currently my savings account will possibly only buy me the front door to a new house. And maybe a welcome mat. 

25. More me time. My down time has seriously suffered the past few months and I can feel it everywhere.

26. Say adios to caffeine. The idea of surviving without it makes me twitch a little bit, which is a problem.

27. Convince the boyfriend that we NEED another dog. Anybody want to help me with a PowerPoint presentation?

28. Relax. My life is easy and happy and full of love and it wouldn't hurt to sit back and take that all in once in a while.

Here's hoping #27 happened and I'm playing with the new puppy I got for my birthday. Or the rollerblades I asked for. Either way, somebody's probably peeing on the floor or I'm wishing I had a helmet on.

PAR-TAY.

I Love You Like XO

Hello there!  Welcome to Monday, guys.  This Monday, I like. See, on this Monday, four years ago, my world got just a little better when I asked the boy I couldn't stop thinking about to be my boyfriend. Actually, I kind of just told him he was my boyfriend, but whatever.  He didn't object. I've never been much of a patient person so I definitely wasn't waiting around for him to ask me out.

            

The concept of long term commitment always seemed so foreign to me.  Whether it be because of my inability to hold interest in something for more than two seconds, or being a child of divorce, I truly believed I would never be interested in something long term with somebody. How are people with each other for decades? People change every minute of every day.  I just never saw it working for me.  It sounds cliché, but it took the right person.  The right person who I never saw coming. 

I still, and will always remember the first night we officially met and hung out.  A stranger approached us while we were talking and complimented us on what an adorable couple we were.  We laughed and thanked her but told her we were just friends.  I remember where we were, what he was wearing, what I was wearing, and the way he looked at me when she said that, and I knew this, whatever it ended up being, was going to be good.  And it was been.  So so good.  All of the ups, the very few downs, and everything in between has been more than I could have ever hoped for out of a relationship. 

           

It's funny how every little thing I've done and every little choice I've made up until this day four years ago put him in front of me.  Some of those choices were mistakes, but I thank God I every day I made them. If I never took a certain job or let a certain person break my heart or decided to go out a certain night, things might not be where there are now.  And if guess I wouldn't have known what I was missing if I never had met him, but I think somewhere, deep down, I would have felt different.  I would have known that something wasn't quite right in my life. 

Building a life with him has just come so natural to me.  I never thought twice about moving in with him, owning pets with him, buying furniture, all kinds of mundane, adult things that tie me to him long term, because I've been in this 100% from day one.  

I love you, dude.  These four years with you have simultaneously flown by too fast and felt like forever.  You make me happy all the time and I look forward to everything with you. Especially if you'll please let me have more pets.

              

(Sorry for making anybody throw up on a Monday.  Carry on.)

Long Lost Sister

Guys, the most serious thing in all of history happened to me yesterday.

Actually, two serious things happened:

First off, Joey FINALLY caught a frisbee for the first time ever.  She typically just lets it smack her in the head or she tries to catch it with her paws like she's a person or something.  But yesterday, she straight up caught it in her mouth, out of the air, and I almost cried like a proud mom should.

I just caught this.

So after Joey was finished catching frisbees and being awesome I posted a picture of her on Instagram being pretty, because it's what the people want to see, which caused the second awesome thing to happen.

I also happened to check in at the dog park with this picture, so when a random stranger happened to be flipping through the pictures taken at Fleet Peoples, he stumbled upon that picture up there and thought it was his dog.  The following conversation ensued:

Guys, I FOUND JOEY'S SISTER.  I didn't want to be all rude and just blast his name all over my blog, because, I mean, millions of readers, but if you go to my Instagram page you can figure it out, which makes crossing out the name pointless, but whatever.  Internet etiquette or something.  IRREGARDLESS.  I'm 75,000 times more excited about this than any person should ever be about something not related to winning the lottery.  I told Joey about it and she licked my nose, which I took as "Mom, you're not crazy, I'm just as excited as you are about this." 

I will most likely film a reunion and it will be the most important story Oprah ever tells.  Obviously.  I'm now on a mission to hunt down the entire litter for the best puppy play date of all time.  So, if you see anybody with a dog who looks like Joey walking around Orlando, don't warn them that a crazy girl is looking for them.

Annnd, in other pet news, my oldest babe turns 3 today!

Happy Birthday, Penny!  Thank you for showing me that something with four legs can actually be sane.  I love you more than the craziest of cat ladies loves her cats.

Enjoy your Thursday, dudes.  I have t-shirts to make for the canine family reunion.  This is how people end up with restraining orders, isn't it?

Flashback Friday

This post brought to you by the fact that I am a million years old. 

#notahighschooler

It's true.  Somehow, I woke up one day as a girl in her late twenties. Girl in her late twenties sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? I should feel comfortable saying woman or lady, but I don't. I've been trying to figure out how to refinance my car for the past three months, there's no way I'm either one of those adult words. But, I sit here, on the eve of my ten year high school reunion, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I'm not panicking over calculus homework or stressing over winning softball games any longer.  I own things (like debt), my insurance cards have my name and my name only on them, and I have an IRA, that I know absolutely nothing about, but I have one.  Am I a full fledged adult now?  

It's funny to think back to when I graduated high school (seriously, ten years ago!) where I thought I would be now compared to where I actually am now.  Twenty eight years old is up there, surely I thought I would be married with three or four kids.  The thought of that now is laughable, although the laughter gets quieter and quieter every year.  It's more of a snicker now, letting me know that I in fact, am old enough to do that kind of stuff, and should maybe get on it. (All puns intended.)  So, although silly high school Tina fully expected to be married and finished procreating by this age, like my mom was, I'm totally cool with not achieving that goal just yet. That would have required me marrying somebody I dated in my early twenties and, throw me off a bridge.  I'm glad I waited for this dude.

High school Tina definitely had different ideas for a career as well. There was the super naive side of me that was 100% sure I would somehow make a career out of softball. I was OBSESSED as soon as I picked up my first bat at eight years old. 

You're welcome for this.

Don't get me wrong, I was good. I was really good, but not 'play in the Olympics good' like where I thought I was headed. Needless to say, that didn't happen. I spend my nights working at a sleep lab at a job I never even knew existed.  Even when I started college as a psych major, I never ever thought I would be doing anything medical related, but here I am, three years deep working at a hospital and throwing in the occasional co-ed softball game or two to keep the dream alive.

When I was in high school, I knew I wanted to move away for college, but I was definitely coming back to my hometown when I finished.  I loved growing up in a small town.  But now, Orlando feels like home and the idea of ever leaving here is crazy to me. How did I deal with having to drive 40 minutes to nearest decent mall, two lane roads, and last call being at 1:00, for the love of God?  

I was even wrong about my preference of pets in high school. Your girl was TERRIFIED of dogs.  Like, refuse to get out my car and go in your house if you had one, terrified. I was destined to a life full of cats, and was absolutely fine with that.  Now?  I'm the proud co-parent of a two year old lab mix that I can't and will never get enough of.

I still have some cats running around, so I wasn't completely wrong.

My life is nothing like I thought it would be, but that's ok.  Anybody who graduated high school with me and tells you they are exactly where thought they would be ten years after graduation is either lying to you or actually got their letter from Hogwarts. 

When I bring up the topic of high school around most people my age, they usually cringe.  I loved high school.  There weren't a lot of us there and most of us knew each other since preschool.  I had a genuinely, pleasant high school experience, minus the few hateful idiots who didn't appreciate the extra 40 pounds I carried around through most of high school.  Thanks to Facebook, I see that most of you were nice enough to match my weight loss with a weight gain.  If I were still in high school, this would be where I would tell you to suck it, but I'm an adult now and can use curse words, so, eat shit.

Moral of the story? High schoolers are dumb.

Too cool for school.

Going Back to the Dark Side

Happy Monday! Bear with me today, this post is probably going to come off as much more dramatic than it should be.  I'm a female, shoot me.  Anyways, I had to make a kind of difficult decision this weekend after making a really dumb one last week. 

If you remember correctly, I busted out a half marathon a few months back. 

And I know you remember, because I still like to brag about it.  Also, I'm one of those obnoxious people with a 13.1 sticker on the back of their car.  Get over it.  Anyways, after a few months of mulling it over, I decided on Friday to put myself through that again....times two.

That's right.  I've tricked myself into thinking I can run 26.2 miles.  Even worse, I paid for it.  I have eight months to train, so no panicking quite yet, but I'll get there. 

Back to the point of this post.  I've spent the past five years being a vegetarian/pescatarian.  A year of that I spent avoiding all things animal related as a vegan.  I gave up being a vegan after I got pretty heavy into running and was getting easily injured.  I just couldn't find the right balance of food that gave me everything I needed with my level of activity.  I'm well aware that plenty of people are able to find this balance, but I just couldn't make it work for me.  I didn't have the time or money to put into my diet that was necessary.  Switching to being a vegetarian did the trick, and I was running with zero problems.  A few years later, I found myself in the same situation, so I added fish every once and a while, and again, problem solved.  So, we are again.  I find myself needing to change my diet.  I don't like to eat fish enough to get what I need in my diet.  Being a vegetarian and being a picky eater don't usually go hand and hand. It wasn't a big deal until now.  Now, I am going to put my body through hell.  I will do the hardest thing I will probably ever physically do.  So, it's time to throw in my vegetarian hat.  I feel ashamed.  (Like I said, dramatic.)  Don't get me wrong, I'm not gnawing on steaks over here.  Pork and beef will still be off limits.  Finding free range chicken is much easier than finding a place that gets their bacon from a place that doesn't torture its animals.

I feel like I've given up.  Like I'm losing at something.  But, running a marathon is important to me, and being healthy is important to doing that.  Again, I'm aware that lots of people lay off animal products and are extremely athletic, but I've done my research, and I don't think it's doable for me. 

My intention is to go back to being a vegetarian after/if I get through this, but we'll see. 

On the plus side, I'm going to be much less of a pain in the ass on Thanksgiving this year.

Birds, forgive me.

Looks Like Carolina

Happy Monday, kittens!  That was actually much harder for me to say than usual, because I'm officially off of vacation today.  Yep, no more spending too much money, eating too much food, and sleeping too much.  It's laundry, grocery shopping, and walking the dog for me today.  Ok, the walking the dog part I'm totally fine with because the separation anxiety was sky high. 

I typically don't leave her for more than two days at a time, so four days away from her was rough.  But I survived, and Joey was only worried about her dad being gone. 

Seriously, I think she forgot she had a mother.  She wouldn't leave his side, no matter how many treats I bribed her with.  I'll pretend like I didn't cry.  Whatever, it made me feel much better about leaving her to go hang out in the mountains of North Carolina.

First things first:  In an effort to be a grown up and not procrastinate, I checked the weather on Monday and packed ahead of time.  High in the 80s and low in the 50s all weekend?  Sounds like perfect vacation weather to me.  Except Mother Nature exercised her prerogative to change her mind.

 

That was the weather I was working with the entire weekend, and I was severely inappropriately packed for it.  So, the sweet sweet boyfriend bought me a scarf that didn't match anything I brought to wear, but whatever.   Anyways, back to the vacation.  I don't take many vacations that don't involve going to visit my family, and they're family, so you know, stress.  More importantly, this was the first vacation the boyfriend and I have taken alone since our one year anniversary.  We're one month shy of our four year anniversary, so to say this vacation was necessary was an understatement.  

A total of sixteen hours in the car together, shopping together, eating every meal together, and going to sleep at the same time (which rarely happens because of my work schedule), and he only threatened to hit me once and that was on the way back to Jamlando.  This is mostly impressive because I am insufferable on trips that last more than 30 minutes. Seriously, being in a car makes me want to die.  But we survived, and we came out looking cuter.

P.S. We have reached the 'tie matches the dress' point in our relationship.  

So, now I'm home, he's at work, and the calories count.  You guys go about your business today and don't worry about me, I'll just be over here unpacking and missing this view:

Mondays are stupid.

Birthday Pup

Ho there!  Happy Wednesday to you, but more importantly, Happy Birthday to my side kick, my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, my dog. 

I'm really excited it's my birthday, guys.

You would never guess it by the way I assault Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook with daily pictures of Joey and constant declarations of my love with her, but  I didn't even want her.  (She will never believe you if you tell her that.)  But it's true.  Joey wasn't the first dog the boyfriend and I owned together.  Our second Christmas together we took our first venture into co-parenting.  We got a puppy we named Mia, and she did every puppy thing puppies are supposed to do.  She ate half of my shoes, terrorized the cat, peed on the carpet, and loved the hell out of both of us.  I was never a dog person until I met her and I fell in LOVE.  The second weekend we had her, we took her on her first camping trip that would end up costing us $7,000.  Yeah, that's not a typo.  Seven G's for a broken femur.  And like good pet owners, we shelled it out.  We loved her.  In a few short months, she was back to normal, going on runs with me, hunting lizards, and still terrorizing the cat.  And then in July, we noticed a limp.  Thinking it was related to the plate put in her leg seven months prior, we took her back to her surgeon to have it removed, and she would be good as new.  Except we were wrong.  She broke another bone, and this one would cost us another $3,000.  We just couldn't do it.  We were just getting back on our feet from the small fortune we spent on her first surgery.  And after this surgery we were going to have to shell out even more money on tests to figure out just why exactly her bones broke so easily and frequently.  We knew what had to happen.  She had to go back to her foster mom, who had the money and resources to care for her.  I was devastated.  I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, and I definitely couldn't stop crying.  I still miss her, to this day.  That's why you don't get a picture of her sweet little face, because I still can't look at pictures of her without crying.

Since all of this awfulness happened a few weeks before my birthday, the boyfriend suggested we think about getting another puppy.  I think this was mostly because I wouldn't come out of the black hole that was my couch and a box of wine.  Rationally, I of course told him no, and that I never wanted another dog, or cat, or even kids for that matter, because something will eventually happen to them, and then I'm back on the couch hugging the Franzia.  Logical, I tell ya.  But then, he showed me this picture:

I immediately started feeling all squishy inside, you know, the way only a puppy's face can make you feel, but reminded myself that I was now a cynical person, who hated all things cute and cuddly.  That dark phase of my life lasted the 30 minute drive it took to go pick her up.

That puppy face is enough to make anybody feel better about anything.  On the nights I still cried over Mia, Joey seemed to know to snuggle with me just a little more.  Or give me an extra lick on the face.  And she still does that for me, it's just a little harder to breath now when she lays on top of me to snuggle.  I couldn't be happier that the boyfriend decided not to listen to me when I told him I would never love another dog again.  He, on the other hand, may not be so happy about it since I'm sure he's convinced I love her more than I love him.

I'll let you form your own opinion on that.

Happy Happy Second Birthday to the only one who can steal an ice cream sandwich out of my hand and live to see another day.  You are my most favorite.

Let's party.