My Blog Heinz Special Powers

Well, I've done it again. Okay, "I" haven't done it persay, but I am starting to think this blog has powers that are truly greater than anything I ever could have comprehended.


As you all know by now, quite some time ago I blogged for Midwest Airline cookies and *poof!* they showed up at my doorstep. But what you may not all know is that on January 12th I blogged about my desire for bigger ketchup packets. My post said, in pertinent part:


"The other day I was about to bring my own bottle of ketchup with me to school, so I could finally have enough for my Burger King chicken nuggets (Josh caught me and forbade me to continue). I do not feel this is tacky or unwarranted. I am so tired of the freakishly small ketchup packet portions. It’s Ridiculous. If any politician is actually serious about crossing the bi-partisan divide, they should back a Ketchup Packet Increase Bill. It would most certainly pass unanimously in both the house and senate, unite the country, and probably even lead to victory in Iraq and Afghanistan."


Well, no politician actually called for a ketchup packet reform, but it just so happens that Heinze came out yesterday with their big plans for increasing ketchup packet sizes. Of course I'm not taking credit for this...but after loyal blog readers began sending me the link I did start to wonder if my blog is magic. Like a geanie blog or something.


It's like all of the sudden I've been endowed with an immense amount of power to get whatever I want. But my friend warned that with that power also comes responsibility--responsibility to use my blog for the greater good. I can no longer blog about trivial things such as free airline cookies and more ketchup. I need to become a cause-blogger who blogs for things which will truly make a difference to everyone--not just myself. After all, who knows how long this divine force will last? My blog might just be going through one of those supernatural phases or something. I better hurry. It's like the whole world's fate is in my hands...


So today I blog for a number of things, things like calorie free Ben & Jerry's ice cream that tastes just as good as the regular kind; Commercial free T.V; That Juliette is gone for good in LOST; Extra beans in everyone's burritos; That the second season of Jersey Shore will be just as awesome as the first; That Diet Pepsi will be a healthy alternative to vegetables; And that Heidi Montag will please stop getting plastic surgery and just go away already.


I think I'll stop there for now. I don't want to get too greedy. However, since my blog has magical powers and there's probably some stuff I left out of my comprehensive wish list, I'm open for more suggestions on how to make the world a better place. If you or anyone you know is interested in using this blog for another cause (upon my approval of course), please send me your request with a small fee of $50 (plus an additional $100 if your wish actually comes true).



Until then, I'm running down to CVS for some Ben & Jerry's. Wish me luck.

Midwest Airlines is Really, Really Awesome

Today I learned that, despite what I may otherwise be inclined to say outloud, dreams really do come true. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my life long goal to eat freshly baked cookies on an airplane, click here.


Long story short, in December I booked tickets for Airtran because I mistakenly believed they baked fresh cookies on board. I was mailed paper tickets, forced to travel an hour and a half to pick them up, had my flight changed a billion times, had to change airlines mid-flight, go back through security, almost lost my luggage, and ended up spending no less than 20 hours traveling from Boston to Salt Lake. The itinerary to fly back home was even worse. And to top it all off, not only did I spend over $100 extra than other flights, I booked with the wrong airline. Turns out it was actually Midwest who bakes their cookies on the plane, not Airtran. My marriage very much suffered because of this slight mix-up.


So I did what any twenty-something would do--I blogged about the difficulty that is my life. I was longing for someone in the vast blogosphere to here my my cries for help--for someone to really understand what it meant to eat fresh cookies during a long flight--to understand my genuine and true love for chocolately chippy delighfulness.


Well, someone did hear my pleas. And that someone was none other than Midwest Airlines itself.



This afternoon I received a package stuffed full of cookies from Midwest. Somehow some way, the manager for Midwest' social media strategy found my blog post and was compelled to send me the cookies I so desperately felt I deserved. Not only do they care enough about their customers to serve freshly baked cookies on board their flights, but they also care about those of us who have never actually bought a ticket-- who longed for their cookies anyway. Even though Josh is discouraged that my poor-decision making has been rewarded by a major airline, he too is grateful that somehow this all ended up being worth it.

You can see how he's beaming with thankfulness...

Thank you Midwest for your thoughtfulness and generosity. You certainly went above and beyond the call of duty, and the cookies were delicious. Rest assured, I will be flying with you from now on.

Now, if only you could send me a job... :)

Knock Knock, It's Adulthood

Each day I wake up on time, make the bed, shower, brush my teeth, go to class, go to work, do my homework, do the dishes, monitor what I eat, return phone calls, reply to e-mails, meet deadlines, show up on time, run errands, do a good job, tend to the details, pay the bills, address the issues, and go to sleep at a decent hour so I can do it all again tomorrow. I don’t particularly want to do any of these things on a day-to-day basis, but there’s this voice within me that says “I don’t care if you don’t want to, you have to.”

I have noticed this voice getting louder and louder with time. Deafening actually. Up until now I assumed that it’s the voice of my mother finally overpowering my own little voice that tells me to sleep in, put things off, and do whatever I feel like. A few weeks ago I was absolutely convinced we had a Freaky Friday situation on our hands when I heard myself teaching my parent’s puppy all about the virtues of good boundaries, rule keeping, and personal discipline.

Thankfully, today I learned this voice is not actually my mother downloading herself into my brain (which makes sense since my mom can’t figure out how to work the T.V remote, let alone teleport into my head). Turns out this voice is my fresh new adult voice—the 2010 model. Recently Time Magazine published an article on cutting edge research into brain development, particularly in adolescents. Despite laws that restrict driver’s licenses to 16 year olds, R movies to 17 year olds, voting to 18 year olds and drinking to 21 year olds, the brain is not actually fully developed until the age of 25. Car rental companies had it right the whole time.

Interestingly, it wasn’t really until this year, my 25th year of life, when I noticed that responsibility and logic finally beat out impulsivity and emotional reactivity. Diligence and reliability won out over negligence and spontaneity. Laziness and avoidance gave way to structure and moral obligations. Apparently all my lobes have been activated and my synapses are firing away. All my cortexes are finally intact. My judgment and emotional centers are regulated. I am officially an adult, with my very own built-in adult voice—a voice which sounds remarkably like my mother’s…



I'm not really sure what to do with all this new fangled adultness. When I was younger I used to fantasize about what it would feel like to be all grown up. Turns out it's not all that fun--mostly a lot of work. But I feel an immense sense of power and responsibility with this new addition to my life as well. I suppose the wise thing to do with all this maturity is learn to harness my new powers in such a way that I'll be fully prepared for my new adult life I ordered to match my new adult voice (the adult life is scheduled to arrive right around the end of May according to my adult tracker). Once I have my adult voice and my adult life coordinated, I'll be able to start doing actual adult things...a.k.a. get a career, make babies, and eventually die.

**On a related note, Josh lamented the other day about one of the pitfalls of adulthood. He feels that he's lost a sense of comradre with dear childhood friend. If you'll notice, the Taco Bell hot sauce packets have replaced their clever quips and friendly gestures with advertisements for the drivethru diet. He says he feels his once good friend is now only interested in selling him something. Happens to everyone.**

Budgeteer

You know how it's inappropriate to talk about how much money you have? Well, I'm known for my really bad boundaries (in general) and feel the need to announce that Josh and I are poor. Really poor. As we look at the year ahead, though it holds some exciting things, all we can see are the multitude of events/obligations which will cost us more money.

Josh approached me a few weeks ago with a financial plan for 2010. He itemized our various liabilities, bills, savings requirements, and other financial needs to form a budget. He even calculated our net worth which was, to say the least, a punch in the stomach. After going over our budgetary requirements with me extensively, he put down his pad of paper, leaned back and folded his arms, then asked point blank: "and what, praytell, are you going to do to help us save money this year?"

A little stunned at his presumptiousness, I stammered a bit until I could think of the first thing that came to mind--food. I committed to save money by pre-preparing several meals in advance, freezing them, and then putting them in the oven just in time for my man to come home from a long day's work. I concocted images of us sitting down at the dinner table with a piping hot casserole made with love, as opposed to our usual luke-warm McDonalds bag at the coffee table bought on credit.

So I pulled some recipes online, went grocery shopping, mispronounced the word "oregano" several times before Josh finally collapsed into hysterics in the middle of the grocery store, and came home ready to cook several individual meals all in one day.

And I did it. Well, we did it.

This is me cooking my soon-to-be-famous beef and tomato fettucini.

(Please forgive the hair, as I'm trying to do it like Beyonce but it keeps looking like I went through child labor in a windstorm instead).

The other weird thing about this picture is how much it looks like my mom. Not my mom right now, but my mom when she was my age. Of course, there is one MAJOR difference between she and I--and that would be the pot of cooking food in front of me...

This is me quickly turning down the stove after Josh told me to quit posing for the camera and start paying attention to the burning beef.


This is Josh after he stole my thunder or, in his words, "intervened" after the beef thing.

And this is a freezer stocked full of (hopefully) delicious frozen meals + leftovers for lunch for an entire week. All for about $40.

We're hoping to make this a more regular occurrence. I figure that if we keep up with the frozen meals, not only will we save several hundred dollars of food a year, but we'll eat healthier too.

I just feel bad for the McDonalds and Subway people, because their whole world is about to change...

First Ramblings of 2010

1) I feel more at peace than I thought I would—what with it being my last semester of law school and all. I have been pulling my hair out for 2 ½ years about my inability to get a job, and now as graduation is rapidly approaching and I still don’t have one, I don’t care that much. It’s like I used up all my anxiety and UPS has yet to deliver me another box of it. Wouldn’t matter anyway though, because even after my box of anxiety arrives, it will have broken or been damaged in transit.

2) I just got an internship with the Human Resources Division. I’m strangely excited about it. I never predicted that I would be on the trajectory of a labor/employment law path. The one downside is that I fear I’ll have one of those boring jobs like my dad has—the kind where you tell glossy-eyed people a million times what exactly it is you do, but they never, ever pay attention.

3) The other day I was about to bring my own bottle of ketchup with me to school, so I could finally have enough for my Burger King chicken nuggets (Josh caught me and forbade me to continue). I do not feel this is tacky or unwarranted. I am so tired of the freakishly small ketchup packet portions. It’s Ridiculous. If any politician is actually serious about crossing the bi-partisan divide, they should back a Ketchup Packet Increase Bill. It would most certainly pass unanimously in both the house and senate, unite the country, and probably even lead to victory in Iraq and Afghanistan.

4) Josh reads a lot of really smart books now. He reads about history, anthropology and people who lived with wolves for a while. I become irritated when he wants to read during our designated T.V watching time. I feel that when I watch T.V he should watch with me. When I eat he should have the same thing. When I wake up early he should have to too. This is just a part of being in a healthy marriage.

5) I wish I had a more adult apartment. Sure, it’s clean and organized, but after we sold everything we own in 2007 to move to Boston, we have essentially decorated our apartment with toys. Not even the cool kind either. We have two pirate bath ducks on our bathroom sink, an Easter Island bobble-head on the bookshelf, and a phallic incense burner on the table (curious about that one aren’t you?). I can’t wait get a job, sell everything we own once again, and then show Crate n’ Barrel and Williams-Sonoma just who’s boss.

January 2010 Updates

I was home for four weeks and managed to not take a single picture of my adventures there. My camera was out of batteries, and I even bought replacement batteries, but never managed to get beyoned that step. So I swiped some pictures off my dad's facebook page, and coincidentally all of them are too small (with the bright exception of the most important picture of me and my little man:).
As promised, my parents bought a Welsh Corgi puppy over the holidays. It was my blessed duty to watch over this little guy all day while everyone else was still at work and school. Call it trauma bonding or whatever you like, but I certainly grew attached to this little fellow. I found myself delving into mother-mode quite naturally, and took right to establishing boundaries, discipline, and squirting him constantly with a water bottle.

I learned that "no" comes out of my mouth with the greates of ease, and I in no way struggle with the concept of natural consequences, character building, and tough love.

Josh worried I was too strict, but I assured him that Chaco and I had a mutual understanding. My parents thought I squirted him too much, but I assured them too that I knew what I was doing.
By the time we were ready to leave, he was essentially potty trained, knew where he could and could not go in the house, and was perfectly comfortable on a leash.

After I left he pooped in one of his forbidden territories. And another one. And another one after that.
He misses me. He is grieving all that was me.

As you can see, he didn't leave my side the entire time.

I was a good mom.

I don't have much to report about my break other than puppy-love. On the airplane I thought I caught a whiff of his fur and teared up. On the bus-ride to Salt Lake (which, by the way, broke down in Arimo, ID where we spent 2 lovely hours waiting for a relief bus in -16 degree weather at a gas station) I couldn't keep the sound of puppy paws running across the floor out of my mind.

I miss his bark. I miss the way he bounds through the snow. I miss his little wiggle-butt.

I miss the way his ears fly back as he runs through the house. I miss the way he let's his stuffed gorilla, Wendy, know who's boss. I miss the way he tries to jump up stairs but can't because he has dwarf legs.

I don't know if he'll ever fully know the extent to which he misses me, but believe you me, he does. A lot.

Still, I managed to have a fabulous time apart from my puppy. I spent lot's of time with family, friends, and Mexican food. Christmas was wonderful as per usual, and New Year's Eve ended early, also as per usual. I saw plenty of movies, read plenty of books, and danced plenty of songs with Taylor. I had plenty of great conversations with my dad, plenty of snuggles with my mom, and shared plenty of dirty jokes with my brothers.

I was reminded that, puppy or no puppy, mostly I just miss my pack.

2010 New Year's Resolutions

There are so many resolutions that I could make this year—all of which would benefit me greatly. I could resolve to get in shape, to save more money, and to stay in better contact with family and friends. I could stop taking the easy way out. I could commit to finally write that book, to organize my apartment, and to learn Spanish. I could promise to make it to Europe this year, to see Canada, and camp on the Coast of Maine. I could master the art of simplifying my life, of meditation, and of a balanced diet. I could be less critical. I could learn to sew, pick up scrapbooking, or sign up for a baking class. I could take more pictures, write more journal entries, and catch up on all my correspondence. I could read one book per week, become involved in school organizations, and volunteer for charity. I could live a life of gratitude. I could work steadily on improving my appearance and behavior, while learning to fully accept who I really am. I could cook for my husband, host gatherings for my friends, and watch meaningful movies. I could follow through. I could give up Diet Pepsi, drink more water, and commit to a daily multi-vitamin regimen. I could shave my legs everyday. I could put more effort into my homework, schedule frequent meetings with professors, and finally learn to appreciate the intrinsic value of my education—as opposed to just seeing it as a means to an end. I could take my health more seriously, while trying not to obsess on my health so much. I could avoid being avoidant, curb my need to control everything, and try harder to live in the moment.

Yes, I certainly could resolve to do all those things this year, but that is soooooo 2009.

For 2010, my New Year’s Resolutions are threefold: graduate law school; pass the Bar; and get a job. I want to be singly focused on these three goals, as they are the epitome of my existence for the last seven years. They are the justification for which I seek. They are validation that in life, we reap what we sew. They are the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. They are the conclusion of New Year’s resolutions made years ago…