no photos, plenty of nonsense, and also sears

Call the cops! Something is up; I am actually doing it.  I am blogging.  Just be prepared.  There will be no photos.  But there will be nonsense.

My camera broke; my camera which I paid $14 for on the clearance (or CLRX as I refer to it in my head) at Sears.  Oh I used to find the most amazing deals there when I worked there for 6 years.  6 YEARS! In retail! And I lived to tell about.  I cannot shop at Sears anymore, when I go there everything seems too expensive.

This is how shopping used to work when I lived, and died, and breathed, the Sears.

Step 1. See an item you LOVE.
Step 2.  Visit it, about once a week checking for it to go on sale.
Step 3.  Watch it, do other people love it?  Is it selling? Will it last until clearance time?
Step 4.  Constantly refigure the price in your mind including the employee discount and tax, until you find a price that suits you.
Step 5. Buy it for an absurd discount.

(On two separate occasions, I bought the most lovely 500 thread count sheets for something ridiculous like $15!)

Oh, I loved shopping at Sears when I had a discount and visited my items to say hello.  Even though I have an amazing job, sometimes I weirdly miss working at that stupid retail store.  Maybe it's just so tender to my heart because I met my husband there.

I do know this.  The last year I worked there, I was so done; I think I might have hung myself eventually, with a vacuum cord.  So I will never go back there (to work).

Back in the day, when I was looking for my first teaching job and I had seven job interviews and no job, I thought to myself, if I don't get a job by X date, I will just give up and follow this inevitable course my life path is on.  I will apply to be a department manager at Sears.  Let's just say I am so very, very happy I am a teacher and not working 60 hour thankless work weeks during Christmas, even though I would be making more money and even though I sometimes feel like I work long thankless weeks, but it's for so much a better cause.

Money isn't everything, people.  Now what is the post even about?  Apparently, Sears.  Which is not what I had in mind when I began.  Life is so strange like that.  I love making plans, but plans often seem to be tossed out the window.

Today I have plans to put away my groceries that are still sitting on the counter, make prepackaged soup to take the ward Christmas party (and pretend I made it), and finally, finally decorate my Christmas tree.

We'll see what the day truly has in store.

dreaming of a white.....

I am dreaming of a white Christmas, but I am also dreaming of a white couch. 

Yes, a lovely white loveseat for my formal living room which I like to call a parlor, because why not?

This is the white couch I want... lovely and cheap from the IKEA.  Just trying to keep it classy.

I have this puppy though, with black fur.  He doesn't shed much, although he does think he's the king of the castle and he is usually allowed on things like couches and beds.   After all, we are horrible dog owners and our dog doesn't think he's a dog.  He thinks he's people.  Not only do I have this silly puppy, but, one day I might actually have small children running around this place (running around with small smudgy fingers) but who knows about these things really?

So.. white couches.

Please discuss.  In the comments.   Pros and Cons.

the latest and greatest

What's going on at your place lately?

We are enjoying a little bit of puppy snuggles

 and A LOT of packing.

Whilst packing yesterday I came across this:

PARTY AT MY PLACE!

it can't be

guess what time of year it is? 

I swear, it can't be here already.

Here's my financial tip for the day, if you ever want to buy a notebook, crayons, markers, or other school/office supplies, whether you are a teacher or not, you should buy them like you are a freakin' hoarder in August because this stuff is cheap baby.

You don't want to miss the fire dancers.

Let's go back in time.


Picture it.  Sicily. 1925.


Hold up, Sofia Patrillo.  I'm telling the story here.  Don't go back that far.


Picture it.  Hawaii. 2008.

We are actually standing in line to go to the luau I speak of in the story.

Lee and I had just spent a lovely day on the beach in Maui and had plans to go to a luau later that day.  The master is going to take a nap and I am in charge of important stuff like calling to pay for tickets to the luau and watching synchronized swimming in the 08' Olympics.


I am on the phone with the travel agent lady and I ask her about paying for the tickets.  She informs me of different prices for different seating areas.  There is a cheaper price for your basic seats and a higher price for some "upgraded" seats.  As I contemplate, a la Rebecca Black, (Which seat should I take? and all that) I ask the agent if she thinks it's worth it for the better seats.  Are they that much better?  Why should I pay more?


And she says, "I would sit up closer, You don't want to miss the fire dancers!"


Fire dancers? This is pretty exciting stuff.  I think about waking Lee up for a second opinion, but decide against it since he is the grumpiest person on the planet for about 15 minutes after waking up.
I buy the upgraded tickets. You know, YOLO!


Lee wakes up, I tell him the story, and the ever-budget-minded man/voice of reason is disappointed with my choice.  I soothe his irritation by telling him it will all be worth it for those wonderful fire dancers.


We drive to the luau.  We wait in line.  We get inside.  We find our seats. Our more expensive, premiere, up close and personal seats, only to discover every seat in the house is basically equal.  There is nowhere that you can see better than anywhere else.  Thanks a lot. Lady.


Herein lies where I was wrong.  Lee was right.  And a tradition is born.  


Every time I am offered something to buy that is upgraded or seems unnecessary, Lee gives me the same sage financial advice and I will share it with you now, for you and your children to benefit from.


"Don't forget.  You don't want to miss the fire dancers."

mo money mo problems

This is what it looks like when Biff tries to tell me to stop blogging and take him for a walk.

I try to remind him that it's 90 degrees out and he will just lay down in the shade after a while and pant for at least a half an hour following it, but he just doesn't understand reasoning and logic?

Whatever happened to cooking for two tuesdays? Nobody knows.  My computer has a few files with pics of dinners waiting to be shared, but somehow it just never happens.  So what does any good procrastinator do when in the middle of a project and you have been stalled? Obviously, any good procrastinator knows you should start a new project.  Am I right?

So, a new feature/theme is about to enter this blog.

Wait. For. It....


Finance.


And it will be fun. shockingly. mostly just little anecdotes about funny experiences related to budgeting, reading a plethora of finance novels, and some pretty common sense crap that you should already know like: don't spend money you don't have. you know really deep stuff like that. maybe even some Suze Orman. Where did those capitals come from? I thought they were on strike for this paragraph? Weird!

Did you know I almost changed my major from elementary education to accounting at the last second, but somehow I decided against the change.  It was a close call, that one.  Sometimes I dream of crunching numbers all day in a cubicle while actually secretly playing tetris a la Office Space, but then I realize there wouldn't be any ten year olds to say really awesome things to me like,

"It looks like you had a hole in your skirt and tried to sew it up yourself?" (maybe because I did)

or

"What is that on your chin?" (a pimple)

or

"I think you should bring Biff to school." (me too)

or

"What is a romantic movie to go see in the theater" (What?! Why?!)

Needless to say I love my job.   And I am not an expert on money, but for some reason I feel like telling you some funny stories about money, lattes, living in trailers, and fire dancers. It will all make sense later.  I'm just trying to reel you in.

it can't always be a PR

Today I ran the Hobbler Half Marathon.  I ran it last year and had a great race; one thing I have always loved about Run13 events is the Magleby's Fresh French Toast at the end of the race, but somewhere along the road I became one of those runners who gets sick from eating too soon after running.  I used to be ready to chow down the second I crossed the finish line, but not anymore.  It's actually pretty tragic since I was so looking forward to it. Plus, post script:  I am a foodie, so, you know, frown.


Last year my time was 1:52:53.
I had a VERY ambitious goal to run this race in 1:45 or at least 1:49:59.


Needless to say, after about 3.5 miles with the 1:45 pacer I was keeping up, but it was rough going, I knew that a 1:45 half not going to happen for me today (but it will happen someday)! I just wasn't ready yet.

I thought going into this race it would be easy for me since I just ran the full marathon 4-5 weeks ago (which I know, I know I need to post about it, and I will, I even have some very funny stories to share).  Teaser: Some stories include the importance of wearing your wedding ring to a race ;)


Unfortunately, it seems like the marathon held me back more than anything since I feel like my training already "peaked" and I am in more of a recovery mode right now? Just go with it.   And just to be really annoying and make up more excuses,  we have been so busy that the gym got skipped a good 5 times in the past 2 weeks, (which we NEVER do) including one day that was supposed to be a long run.  Needless to say, it wasn't my best race, but I am satisfied with it because I came to a pretty obvious and yet profound conclusion today...

Every race can't be a PR.

Sounds pretty obvious, but whatever.  I think in my mind I expect to get better every time, not just better, but a lot better.  If every race was a PR, we would all be a bunch of super human athletes and someone would have beaten the 2 hour marathon mark by now.  Am I right?

 (Watch out, 2012 Olympics it's gonna happen.  I've got a feeling. I can't wait. ) 


Just like many things in life what is the sweet without the bitter?  If you have to work really hard to get a certain time, you are going to appreciate it more than if it comes easily.  That's why we crazy running people do it, because it's hard, because we want to accomplish something difficult, because we want to fight for it with blood, sweat, and tears.


Subject change coming... now. 

The funniest part of this race was how none of my family/friends came to see me at the end.  I promise, I am not complaining at all. I run for me, not to get attention or recognition from others and I signed up for this race a little over a week ago,  so that's pretty short notice.  So here's the funny part: At the finish line: Everyone is hugging and talking to their families and what not and I am just kind of like this weird little orphan since most people don't go to a race alone.  Even if their family doesn't come people usually have a running partner or something.  I definitely saw people I know there and chatted a bit, but still I'm just kind of a loner.  Not that funny yet, but here it is...


An old ex-boyfriend of mine saw me from a few yards away and waved.  First, I didn't even recognize him, but then I did, and then I thought,  "I should probably go say hi to be polite, but it's kind of awkward that I'm just this weird little orphan here?"  I can't even remember if I waved back or if I just gave him a weird look.  I was tired/out of it!  Mostly I just didn't want to talk to this guy and his cute wife because I didn't want them to feel bad for me that I was alone, because I didn't feel bad about being alone.


The other funny part is that right before I saw him I was about to walk over to this wet grassy hill (next to where they were sitting) and flop down on the grass like a dead body, but then I saw him and unfortunately that wasn't an option anymore.  Something about pride?


Since I was an orphan there I took some photos of myself afterwards, myspace style in the bathroom.  Whatever, it's for posterity. Or something. 

PS: If you're into race times, the clock read 1:58:something, official time unknown as of yet. 


P.P.S: If you read this entire long post, you probably deserve an award for being such an awesome friend who listens to my ramblings.