We begin tonight’s story at the local Winco.

Normally, Paul and I do our grocery shopping first thing Sunday morning, when it’s safe. At that time, people are typically asleep or in church, which lets us freely navigate the aisles for our groceries without incident. However, Paul has taken advantage of the aftermath of Snowmaggedon 2012 by volunteering for extra hours at work the last two Sundays. That meant we had to do our shopping after he gets off work.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Winco, but the cheaply priced produce is very attractive to us right now, as we are on a budget and our grocery shoppings typically consist primarily of produce. Tonight when we arrived, we found that practically everyone in Marysville was also packed into the store, and socializing seemed to be taking a larger importance than shopping because it seemed like on every aisle were people standing idly, talking.

The experience wasn’t what I would describe as fun, but it wasn’t horrific or noteworthy either…until we reached the checkout. At Winco, you bag your own groceries instead of having the clerk do it for you. Each checkstand is equipped with two different conveyor belts, one on each side, to ensure that nobody’s stuff gets stacked up or confused. We picked a lane and started unloading our cart. I half-noticed that there was another shopping cart ahead of us with nothing but a case of water. No one was around but I wasn’t watching carefully and just assumed that the owner of the cart was over bagging up his or her stuff.

I finished unloading groceries onto the belt and was taking a sip of my coffee when I was shoved out of the way by a short, dark-haired woman wearing the most horrendous shade of fuchsia lipstick ever to come into existance. “Sorry,” she said as she placed a tub of peanut butter among my purchases.

I really must try this strategy. Next time I’m buying just one item, I’m going to add it to another shopper’s stuff and see if I can trick someone else into paying for my new socks or my mascara. Awesome idea, short chick. Not working with me, though. I am an observant shopper, and I know I didn’t order any ugly-lipstick-clad woman’s condiments.

I raised an eyebrow. “Uh, that isn’t yours,” I blurted before I could stop myself. She looked confused, so I picked up her peanut butter and was about to place it behind my stuff when it dawned on me that she was the person whose shopping cart was sitting in the middle of our lane. I handed the peanut butter to the cashier.

Ms. Ugly Lipstick’s groceries were piled up and she took forever to pay. Then once she did pay, she plunked her purse down on the empty side of the conveyor belt that should have been for OUR groceries while she fished around in her wallet and put her things away. I fantasized momentarily about kicking her. Ohhhh, how fun it would be to kick her. There would be the moment when my foot connected, then the look of surprise when she realized what had happened. She might ask why I did it, to which I could respond that I like to kick stupid people who double my time at the checkout.

Yes, kicking her would have been a solid Win for me. However, I resisted, and she finally managed to get her crap organized and off our side of the conveyor belt so the cashier could ring up our groceries.

As I finished bagging up our stuff, Ms. Ugly Lipstick was still on the other side, slowly placing her items in bags. The cashier had to double up and put the next person in line’s stuff on our side, even though the whole point of the layout is to alternate sides so that no one has to wait.

And here I thought Winco was fairly idiot-friendly.

“I want to do that sometime,” Paul told me as we walked to the parking lot. “I’ll walk up with one item and say ‘I want to buy this’ and then go back for something else, and then something else, do my entire shopping one thing at a time. Then I’ll see how long it takes the cashier to get rude.”

I snickered.

“And you pay fifteen bucks a month for HBO,” he scoffed. “You can get all your entertainment here for free!”

True that.

It’s been an odd week, mostly due to what is being affectionately referred to as Seattle’s Snowmageddon 2012. It started snowing lightly on Tuesday night, and then by Wednesday the Pugent Sound was getting several inches of the white fluffy stuff.

The snow continued into Thursday, as temperatures dropped to the mid-twenties. This created a huge amount of ice and slippery conditions. Then today, the weather warmed up to the thirties, and rain began to fall heavily. All the nice pretty snow is turning rapidly into slush and excess water, making a huge mess.

Earlier in the week, two of my coworkers constructed a delightful snowman on our fifth-floor balcony. Snowy had coffee pod eyes, a mouth fashioned with red hots, and a little Rango-esque cowboy hat for his head. As the week progressed, Snowy began to lean to the side a bit and his red-hot mouth started to melt, making him look rather as if he’d just lost a boxing match. It’ll be interesting to see if there’s anything left of poor Snowy come Monday.

I learned that Elantras get great gas mileage and have awesome luxury features. Elantras do not like snow. My little car got stuck in the driveway on Wednesday morning, and it took both Paul and I to extricate it. Once in the road, I took it slow, inching my way along the ice-covered roads on my way to work. By this morning I was a little tired of my extended commute and was looking forward to the impending thaw. I got up extra early so I could hit a Starbucks on my way to the office, but when I drove into the parking lot, the lights were dim and there were no other cars. Starbucks’ hours had been reduced due to the weather.

Bah.

Paul filled the cats’ water dish with snow, which seemed to concern Angel greatly. She’d run to me, meowing loudly, and then dash back to the water bowl, as if trying to alert me that there was something unusual going on.

I let Oliver outside so he could check out the snow. He refused to stick his paws in the snow at first, but then eventually grew comfortable enough to plant his front legs in it. Next I let Saturday out. I had to grab him quickly though because the snow didn’t faze him one bit and he wanted to prance right out into the snowdrifts. Friday wasn’t quite that bold, but she was unafraid and curious.

I didn’t give Angel or Darwin a trip outside. Darwin’s skittish and Angel is super curious, so I didn’t trust either one outside.

By Thursday night I was feeling a little stir-crazy. I was going straight from home to work and then back home again at night, with no stops in between. I was a little concerned that I’d get my car stuck in a parking lot if I tried to go anywhere so I just avoided it altogether. But Thursday, Paul took me out to dinner at Red Robin. It felt great to get out of the house and have a date night.

To make my mornings easier, Paul bought a snow shovel and shoveled the driveway so my car wouldn’t get stuck. I’m sure it was a lot of work and I really appreciate him doing that for me. He’s the best.

I finally got my much-coveted latte from Starbucks this afternoon when I braved Fred Meyer to get lunches for next week. The parking lot was a mix of snow, ice, and slush, but it wasn’t so terribly bad and I was able to get in and out without getting too wet. I also got a cute pair of gray fuzzy boots for fifty percent off, which made the whole trip incredibly worth it.

So we survived Snowmageddon 2012, and by tomorrow Meltdown 2012 should be in full swing. It’ll be nice to be able to get to work in less than an hour, to go where I like without having to worry about whether the parking lot will be plowed, to have businesses back to normal hours.

I will miss our Snowy, though.

It’s New Year’s Eve. 2011 is on its way out, 2012 is on its way in. Some will spend quiet evenings at home, some will head out to dinners and parties and other celebrations. My sister will hop a plane to Jamaica (or, so she says….I am a bit skeptical). No matter where you are this evening, the sentiment is the same – a celebration of a new year, a fresh start, a promise of new beginnings.

For me, 2011 was a good year. I’m ending it in our new house that I love, with Paul and his family and my sweet wonderful kitties. I don’t get to be with my own family today, but we all keep in touch and somehow we seem to grow closer despite our distance from one another. This year, I challenged myself to be a better person, to take risks, to live. I focused more on Zumba and found not only a great form of exercise, but a group of amazing friends that I love. I jumped out of a plane despite a fear of heights and a distaste for flying, and loved it. Not only did I not go back to being a call center grunt this year, I got a new job in Customer Relations that for the last several months has given me challenges and successes that I have reveled in. All in all, I have no complaints about the year.

For 2012, I do have some resolutions. My first and biggest one is to enjoy all that I have, to relax and be happy. Every aspect of my life is really, really great and I’m hoping for more of the same in the new year. I’m looking forward to the exciting things we have planned: our trip to California in April, our vacation to Hawaii in December, my parents’ summer visit to see us. I’m starting the new year in a job that I love, and am excited for new challenges and opportunities to learn new things.

I hope the good times will outnumber the bad, and I will have lots of fun and lots of great experiences. I’m content with the events of the year we’re leaving behind, and looking forwad to beginning 2012.

Happy New Year, everyone!!

Not being one to frequent men’s restrooms, I know very little about the goings-on. So several weeks back, when my male coworkers started gushing about this certain urinal with a mango-scented urinal screen, Robin and I looked at each other like they were crazy.

According to the boys, a certain urinal contained a fresh mango-scented screen that emitted beatiful scent when, uh, in use. They gushed about how using that urinal was like transporting themselves to a tropical island for a vacation.

My amusement grew when more and more guys visiting our area could be engaged in conversation about this one urinal screen. All that had to be mentioned was that mango scent, and the boys were off and running on this topic.

My curiosity overtook me and I decided to investigate all this. Escorted by Bob, I made a trip to the men’s restroom to find out what all the fuss was about. I stood in front of the urinal, sniffing, to no avail. I smelled no mango. Not even a whiff of tropical paradise. Disappointed and now quite doubtful, I went back to my desk. The boys talked this over and decided that the urinal screen must be, well, in use to emit scent.

I had forgotten all about the mango-scented urinal until recently, when the guys began to gripe that it was losing its mango freshness and they were going to be in need of a replacement. Bob went online and found a supply vendor that carried exactly what they wanted. Nicholas held out though, wanting the company to foot the bill for the replacement tropical bathroom paradise maker. He appealed to the janitor in the following email:

Dear Mr. Janitor (name has been changed),

In the 5th floor North Men’s restroom, there is one orange urinal freshener that gives off a most delightful mango scent. It is the Clean Check brand in the Western-most urinal. Standing in the vicinity of this freshener is like taking a trip to Tahiti. This has almost reached the end of its fresh mango scent and there are several of us on our team who look forward to this aroma. It is truly what gets us through the day.

Would it be possible to have more of these installed in this bathroom?

Thank you for your kind consideration,
Nicholas

(And no, I am not making up any part of this, including that email. Haters.)

Anyway, Nicholas’ pleas for a replacement paradise went unheeded, and the janitor never wrote back. He sent a second email. Nothing. Then things came to a head a few days later, when suddenly the fast-disintegrating mango screen disappeared altogether. The guys were quite put out by this. They even went as far as to suggest that perhaps the janitor took away the beautiful-yet-waning mango awesomeness out of spite.

At this point, I was picturing the janitor from “Scrubs” and snickering to myself. It all played out in my head, Nicholas as JD and the janitor, scuffling with one another, the hijinks, the pranks…

Ahem.

Anyway….

Once the boys had accepted that the mango freshness came with a price, Bob went online and ordered more screens. After a bit of disappointment (they were on backorder and did not ship promptly), the mango Tahiti paradise arrived and was lovingly placed in a urinal that apparently does not receive as much use as the rest (you know, to preserve the mango scent for as long as possible). The same day that the new screen was placed, the boys had a face-to-face with the janitor, who agreed that the aroma was quite delightful and promised to at least attempt to provide more down the line.

Peace was made with the janitor over lovely mango fragrance. Is there any conflict this urinal screen cannot resolve?

I was once again provided an escorted visit to the men’s room so I could behold the new screen in all its glory. The guys had tacked a beach scene printout to the wall above the urinal to complete the experience (they had also put a tropical flavored Capri Sun in there to set the mood, but someone rather gross stole it and probably drank it up and now has diphtheria). The brand-new screen was fragrant and giving off plenty of scent, even just sitting there between uses.

And I must admit, it smelled pretty nice in that bathroom.

I’ve neglected my little blog for so long, I really don’t even know how to jump back in or what to write about. So I’m just going to do it.

My haitus began when we left for our vacation to Las Vegas/So Cal the last week in October. That trip? Was a blast. We went to Vegas to celebrate Paul’s parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. They have what I hope Paul and I will have, years down the road. To celebrate this anniversary, they invited family and friends to come to Vegas with them and party, so we did.

While we were in Vegas, Paul and I decided that in lieu of plunking all of our hundreds of dollars into slot machines, we wanted to do something memorable. It was Paul who had the idea to go skydiving. I admit I was nervous (read: really freaking terrified), but I also knew I wouldn’t regret doing it. We went to the Boulder City Airport, signed waiver forms with the word DANGER printed in big bold letters on each page, suited up, and were ready to go.

Winds were really heavy that day and there were delays between groups of skydivers. I was getting more anxious that they’d tell us we couldn’t do it, and that we’d miss our shot. I’d gotten up the nerve, I was here, I was ready, I wanted to do it. Luckily, we were able to make our jump.

Skydiving is one of the very coolest things I’ve ever done. One of the things I love about Paul is that he challenges me to do things I never thought possible. I’ve done so many things with him that I never would have done on my own, including jumping out of what many people have called a “perfectly good plane”. I was very glad to have the experience, and glad to share it with him.

We spent the last half of our week in the High Desert, visiting family. My mom’s retired now, so I got to see more of her than I did last trip. A lot of things have changed. My sister has a new job working on the Marine base, and she has a really nice boyfriend. My brother and his girlfriend are in the process of buying their first home, and I went with him one afternoon and peeked in windows. My dad’s still working three hours away, in Santa Barbara, but he came home on Saturday and we got to spend the whole day together.

It’s always hard to leave. I miss my family a lot, but we text and talk on the phone. I am sad I won’t get to see them this year for the holidays. We will get to see Paul’s mom and dad though, they’re flying up on Christmas morning to spend a week and a half with us. I think that’ll be a lot of fun.

I returned to work on Halloween, sporting a nice feathery halo on my head (I was an angel). In my absence, my mischevious coworkers had overturned fifteen pounds of rice into one of my desk drawers and hidden various items throughout the rice, so I got the fun task of digging for my things. Here’s the video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HHc7M64doyM

So now we’re home, and I’m counting down to the next round of fun. On November 18th, I have tickets to a two-hour Zumba class with Zumba star Kass Martin. A ton of people I know are going and it should be awesome. Then comes Thanksgiving. Paul and I are headed to Canada for the holiday for a relaxing, though short, getaway. After that, it really will be the Christmas season (yes, retail stores, I know that for you the Christmas season has been in full swing since Labor Day).

The end of the year is approaching fast.

When I was at Target today, I noticed that the Christmas decoration display was out in seasonal items. So you know what this means….Halloween is approaching!

Yes, it is October, and with it comes shorter days, pumpkin spice lattes (thank you, Starbucks), and yes, Halloween. It’s a time for ghosties, ghoulies, candy, and costumes.

And, apparently, costumes are now not just for people but for pets.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t get behind this whole let’s-dress-up-Fluffy-and-Fido craze. Americans will spend a predicted $310 million on pet costumes alone this Halloween. $310 million dollars? On  pet outfits??

Am I the only one who finds this incredibly wasteful?

Look, people, they’re pets. They’re automatically cute. Come on, they’re fuzzy, cuddly, they have huge eyes and huge ears and they just make us go “Squee!!” with their every adorable move. They don’t need to dress up as pumpkins or princesses or bikers or anything else. One costume I shook my head at was a frog costume designed for dogs. Your dog lives in the lap of luxury, lounging on soft soft beds, chasing squeaky toys, eating Science Diet. What on earth would make your dog think, hmmm, I want to be a frog? I want to sit on a lilypad and say ribbit ribbit ribbit? No, people, dogs do not want this. Nor does your average dog understand why or particularly enjoy your sticking him in some outfit, oohing and ahhing and oh-aren’t-you-cute-ing while you snap pictures to upload to Facebook.

So I walked through Target today, thinking about how if I tried to outfit my cats in Halloween costumes, I could then go as a self-mutilator with all the scratches I would suffer during the process. I couldn’t help feeling that pet Halloween costumes are one of the most ridiculous holiday items available.

And then I saw the Christmas decoration display. Up on a shelf was a tall, pink, light-up flamingo. Said flamingo was wearing a red light-up Christmas scarf and was just waiting to adorn someone’s front lawn.

And I knew then that dressing your dog up as Frogger is nothing compared to the Pink Flamingo Christmas Yard decorations.

Carry on, America. Spend your $310 million on pet costumes. Just someone please lend me fifty bucks for a flamingo.

There’s a woman who lives two doors down from me who, like me, drives an Azera. I think of her as Other Azera Woman. I see her leaving very early in the morning on the rare occurance that I actually drag my lazy ass outta bed to go to the gym before work, and sometimes if I’ve worked late I’ll see her arriving home.

Tonight, I was a little later than usual and found myself pulling onto my street right behind Other Azera Woman. We both rounded the corner, only to find that two cars were illegally parked right smack in front of a fire hydrant, blocking her driveway. I pulled into my own driveway and got out of my car slowly, watching things unfold. Other Azera Woman blared her horn a few times. I wondered if the cars belonged to someone she knew, someone who knew the signal to come out and move his/her shitty looking Honda Civic to a more respectable place.

Nothing happened.

Now this? Was getting interesting.

I dashed inside to deposit my lunch box and purse on the kitchen counter before dashing upstairs to look out the bedroom window and watch the events unfolding outside. Other Azera Woman was visiting the two townhomes in between hers and mine to see if she could find the owner of the car. I stood by the window, watching intently. Oliver was lying in the fast-fading sunlight, and I scratched behind his ears. I was trying to look nonchalant, like I was really just petting my cat and not spying on the neighbors.

Other Azera Woman gave up and returned to her car. A slim blond girl from the unit next door to hers joined her outside, gazing up and down the street as if the Civic’s owner might appear. It was apparent now that no one knew who owned the car, or the Dodge pickup parked next to it.

The Civic was closest to Other Azera Woman’s driveway, so it was causing the bulk of the problem. The Dodge pickup wasn’t completely prohibiting her from entering or exiting her driveway, but it would certainly make things tight for her.

Paul joined me at the window to see what I found so fascinating. “They have her completely blocked,” I reported rather sympathetically.

“They did it to her a couple of weeks ago, too,” he told me. I shook my head, irritated on her behalf. “If I still had the Jeep, I’d take care of it.”

“Yeah! You could run that Civic over!” I exclaimed.

He nodded. “Or I could just hook the winch to the Civic and pull it away from there,” he said, more practically. “If it was me, I could see myself getting mad enough to do something like that.”

I watched for a couple more minutes, then felt bad. “I think I should tell her she can park in front of our driveway,” I finally said. We weren’t going anywhere else.

“Okay,” he agreed.

I bounded down the stairs and out the door, eager to offer up my little space of curb to my neighbor. “They’ve got you blocked, don’t they?” I called, approaching her.

She nodded irritably. “Yeah.”

“You can park across my driveway if you like,” I offered, feeling good that I had something to bring to this. I don’t reach out to my neighbors very often but I instantly liked this one. Her blond hair was cut in a stylish bob, she was wearing a nicely tailored suit and looked positively exhausted. “You’re just now getting off work too, aren’t you?” I added.

She nodded again. “I’ve been going since six o’clock this morning,” she revealed.

The trim blond piped up. “You can use our driveway too,” she said. “We’re home for the night.”

Other Azera Woman smiled a little. “Thanks,” she said. “You know, I’m not a mean person, but I want to slash this guy’s tires.”

“Key his car. One scratch for every minute you have to wait,” I suggested helpfully, earning a smile from my neighbors.

Then a chubby guy came up to us, saying, “I’m sorry, that’s my buddy’s car. I’ll have him move.”

“He needs to not park there,” Other Azera Woman admonished. “Next time I’ll just call the towing company.”

At this point I had nothing else to say or do. If I’d been her, I would’ve really had to resist the urge to bludgeon the inconsiderate bastard with my oh-so-pretty high heeled shoe. So I went in the house and detailed the events to Paul, who probably didn’t care but dutifully acted interested in the neighborhood drama.

The Civic owner has moved his dumpy little car to the curb in front of his friend’s house. I wonder if Other Azera Woman will sneak out in the middle of the night and slash his tires after all.

I really, really hope she does.

This week, stress was in the air. At work it was due to the visit from the executives and CEO of Frontier. Everyone was cleaning, straightening, making perfect. All in preparation for the visits from “the important people”. In the news it was due to the country’s current debt crisis.

In the light of national and corporate stress, I thought it would be a great opportunity to write a blog about some of the things that I’ve found are great cures for stress. Admittedly, my go-to stress relief has traditionally been medicinal (Xanax) or chemical (yay booze!), but there are great ways to feel calmer without resorting to those.

Find soothing scents. For a nice calming effect, I absolutely LOVE lavender. It’s soft, beautiful smell is an instant calmer for me. There are lots of ways to get a lavender fix. In my bedroom, I keep a lavender-scented spray handy (my favorite is actually a body spray from the Healing Garden). I spritz my pillow before climbing into bed. This quiets my nervous mind and helps me to drift off to sleep. I also love lavender bubble bath. Yankee candles makes a Lavender Vanilla candle that just smells so fabulous, so I like to light one and put it on the bathroom counter while I slip into a bath drawn with lavender-scented bubbles. I like to bring this relaxation to my commute, too: I recently discovered that Yankee also makes car air fresheners, and found one on clearance in the lavender vanilla scent I love. I put it in my car and I can really smell it when I get behind the wheel. It’s powerful enough that I always get a hint of it, yet not so overpowering that my allergies are affected. At work, I don’t really like to spray things, and there’s a strict policy against fire so I can’t burn candles. I still like my lavender, though. I keep a box of Traditional Medicinals Chamomile Lavender Tea in my desk drawer to brew during stressful moments. I’ve grown to associate the soothing, warm tea with calm and relaxation.

Play Relaxing Music. I have satellite radio in my car, and one of the best discoveries I’ve made is the Watercolors smooth jazz station. I adore this music, and it’s instantly relaxing to me. I recently started paying attention to artists I particularly like on the station and downloading albums to my iPod so I have soothing smooth jazz music at my desk at work, too.

Get a pedicure. Self-explanatory, really, but oh so fabulous. I go to Best Nails in Marysville. It doesn’t look like it would be much, but it’s a great place. For pedicures, they have oversized massage chairs to knead my back while I get my feet rubbed. The manicurists (pedicurists?) not only shape and paint my toenails, but they also exfoliate my feet and massage both my feet and my calves with a combination of exfoliant scrub and lotion. It’s relaxing and I always leave feeling awesome. For my Cali buddies, there’s a place called Euphoria in Apple Valley that exhibits similar awesomeness.

Hit the gym. Studies have proven that exercise is an excellent way to relieve stress. My favorite form of working out is to take Nancy McFadden’s Zumba classes. She’s awesome! (If you’d like class info, let me know). The upbeat dance music, the amazing people, and the tough-yet-doable workouts leave me feeling amazing. Any workout will do though. I usually spend my lunch hour at work in the gym. It’s not a hard workout, I just walk on the treadmill while listening to my iPod, but the exercise breaks up the monotony of my day and makes me feel better. I also strength train a few days a week to get muscle tone.

Write it down. When I’m feeling anxious, I’ll either write here in this blog or, if what I have to say is more private, in my journal. Writing things down gets them out of my mind so I’m not bottling things up, and helps me to analyze what exactly is bothering me.

Stay positive. Surround yourself with positive people. Anyone who makes me unhappy, stresses me out, or weighs me down with negativity is not someone I should have in my life. I’ve had to admit that certain friends were bad for me, and to put distance between them and myself. Even though it made me sad, I have to admit that those people were weighing me down and I’m better off without them.

Laugh. I’m lucky, I have coworkers (coworkers that are also good friends, even better!) with fabulous senses of humor that keep me in stitches all day. No matter how crazy our jobs are, we can make each other smile. They keep me from taking myself too seriously. Each time someone says something crazy and funny, I laugh and feel my stress slipping away.

These are just some of the ways that I relax myself when I feel anxiety creeping up. The world can get crazy and stressful, but doing the things I’ve listed above helps me to maintain some semblance of sanity and feel better about even the most nerve-wracking of days.

4th of July has always been one of my favorite holidays. I love the bbqs, the parties, the fireworks. Even though we lived in Washington last year, we took a whirlwind trip back to Cali to spend the holiday with our families and it was just like old times. This year, I was a little afraid that I’d be bummed out, since we’d be missing out on traditional fun. To make things even more glum, I’d caught a terrible cold and spent most of Saturday in bed.

I shouldn’t have worried, because Paul had it covered. On Sunday he bought tickets so we could go to the Mariners game. I absolutely love going to Safeco field for games. There’s just something about being at the ballpark, Safeco in particular, that is so refreshing and fun. I love our seats, with a great view of the game and also the city in the background. I love when trains go through and I can hear the whistle. I love the greasy, bad, delicious food. This time Paul and I discovered pulled pork bbq nachos. All they were, were cheap tortilla chips covered in pulled pork, cheese sauce, and bbq sauce. Paul and I got our grub on, and he said he could make a better version at home with pepperjack cheese and some better quality chips.

During the game, the sun came out and the weather was warm. By the end, we decided to forgo the bus ride and walk back to the car (we parked about a mile away to save money on downtown parking). I love walking in downtown Seattle. Just being in that city reminds me of how much I love living here. By the time we got to the car, I realized I definitely should have worn sunscreen, as I’d gotten rather fried in the sun. But when we left home, it had been cold and raining pretty hard, so I didn’t think of it.

After the game we went to Azteca, one of our favorite Mexican restaurants, for dinner. We each had a great dinner and a couple margaritas, then went across the street to the movie theater to relax. We saw “Bad Teacher”, which is raunchy yet hilarious. I love that Cameron Diaz looks so fresh-faced and innocent and yet says such naughty, naughty words.

Monday was the Fourth of July. The weather was beautiful, so we set out for a nice day drive in Paul’s convertible. He drove down to Mukilteo, and we took the ferry boat across to Whidbey Island. It’s a short crossing, but pleasant, with nice views of a park on the Mukilteo side and of beautiful homes on the beach on the Whidbey Island side. Once across, Paul drove up island to Deception Pass. There was a park with beach access, so we drove in and had a picnic lunch on the beach. Not suprisingly on a holiday weekend, the place was packed. I had a great time people watching and munching on the picnic we’d brought.

By the time we got home, I was exhausted and happy. I was in bed and asleep by eight-thirty, so for the first time in my memory I didn’t watch fireworks on the Fourth of July. But I don’t mind, because I had a great time over the weekend with Paul.

Now I’m counting down to my twenty-seventh birthday on the 14th! I’m kicking off the celebrating by going to Tacoma on Friday for a New Kids on the Block/Backstreet Boys concert with my aunt and cousins. I’m really excited about the show and about spending time with family. I can’t wait for Friday to get here!

The next week is going to be amazing!

Several of my friends have been asking for good books to read, so I thought I’d use my blog and put together a few of my recommendations for a Summer Reading List. Yes, I know technically summer hasn’t quite begun yet, but it’s almost here and with it will come long, warm summer evenings that are perfect for settling in with a book and a big glass of iced tea. Here are a few of the books I’ve read recently. If you’ve got something you’d like to add, please let me know as I’m always looking for new books myself.

If You Were Here, by Jen Lancaster. Not only is she my favorite author, like, EVER, it’s her first fiction release and it’s hysterical. Read, laugh, and try not to pee your pants as character Mia coerces her husband into buying a rundown mansion and how they nearly get divorced renovating it.

Best Friends Forever, by Jennifer Weiner. One of the best books she’s written, in my opinion. A former fat girl and her beautiful childhood best friend unite after the latter commits a crime at a high school reunion. It’s fun, whimsical, and at points it’s pretty hilarious too.

e, by Matt Beaumont. This novel is written in the form of exchanged interoffice emails, beautifully laid out so every catty, backstabbing moment is captured. I loved this book so much I’ve read it three times already. Plus, it’s set in London so all the characters use British slang, and I now look for any excuse I can find to call someone a twat.

Oogy, by Larry Levin. I had to keep a box of tissues nearby for this sweet story of a puppy that was viciously fed to a fighting dog, somehow survived, and was brought into the Levin family to be loved for the rest of his days. Oogy’s horrific beginnings are far overshadowed by the life he leads as a cherished pet in this book. I fell absolutely in love with this dog and loved his happy ending.

What the Night Knows, by Dean Koontz. This novel scared the hell out of me. Don’t read it right before bed unless you’re one hundred percent sure that what you read before bedtime won’t keep you up or give you nightmares. Koontz’s novels are always page turners and typically are a little spooky, but this one really made my hair stand on end and I relished every page.

Dear John, by Nicholas Sparks. I’d never read this author’s work, and Dear John was a great book to start with. Sparks makes you fall in love with Savannah right along with John, and although the ending isn’t necessarily what I think readers would want for the characters, it’s more true to life though bittersweet. After I read this novel I was hungry for more and bought the movie…..I do NOT recommend doing this, as the movie is not nearly as enchanting as the book. Just read the book and enjoy what it is, and skip the film.

Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang, by Chelsea Handler. I admit, I bought another of Ms. Handler’s books and wasn’t all that impressed – I’m going back to give it another chance after reading this one – but this memoir is absolutely awesome. The collection of stories, from when Chelsea’s boyfriend is out of town and she goes feral, staying indoors and calling him for instructions on how to turn on the tv so she can watch a movie, to the ill-fated party where she feeds the host’s dog a snack, then convinces her boyfriend that the dog died from it, are hilarious and definitely worth my time.

Happy Reading!! More than likely I’ll put together another list by mid-summer, as I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading lately and will probably discover new gems that I’ll be dying to share.    =)