city mouse/country mouse.

I've recently discovered that as much as I like the idea of being a city girl, I might not be a city girl. Sure, I think it would be really exciting and independent to move to a city, get a posh apartment, have a real job with a salary, and be able to tell people that I live in a city, but that might not happen. And here are the reasons why:

I think I might hate cities. The only city that I actually like is Boston because I don't have to drive anywhere when I'm there. All I have to do is jump on the subway (or walk if I'm with my older brother who refuses to take the subway even when it's blizzarding and the temperatures are far below freezing...it's a touchy subject, so don't ever bring it up). I would never have to park, navigate traffic, or get lost every time I go somewhere. Well, I may get lost, but I would be on foot not car. And for some reason, that sounds more enjoyable to me. At least if I'm on foot, I don't have to consider abandoning my car to run through the streets crying and screaming. I also wouldn't have to worry about one-way streets. Or buildings. But as of now, I don't have a job in Boston. I only have a brother there.

This is Boston. I could be here. Lost and running frantically through alleyways.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to afford a posh apartment. Or city living. Turns out people in the social services fields don't really make much money. Maybe I should have looked into that a little sooner, as in before I'm about to graduate with my master's. So, even if I become a city girl with a real job and salary, I probably still won't be able to afford the apartment. And if I somehow manage to afford the apartment, I may not be able to afford utilities. Or food. Or nice beer. Obviously I don't care much about the utilities part...I hate showers anyway, but we all know how much I love food and nice beer. 

I like to talk to people. I don't want to be that weird girl from Missouri that talks to everyone she sees, because who are we kidding? That's who I would become. Is it okay to walk into a grocery store in New York City and start talking to people in the produce aisle? Is it okay to make eye contact and smile at people on the street? Is it okay to sit right next to someone on the subway? I don't know. 

I may or may not be a little too trusting. I tend to think that all people are good and, thus, leave my belongings scattered across Columbia. Fortunately, in Columbia, you can accidentally leave your car door hanging open downtown for two hours and only know you did it because the police will call and tell you they shut it and locked it. That might have happened to me. I'm also not really scared of people. Or darkness. Or walking by myself in the darkness. And I think that you need to be a little scared to live in a city. So, now I'm Julie, fearlessly lost and running through city alleyways in the darkness. And I'm listening to Arcade Fire's song We Used to Wait on my iPod (which hasn't been stolen yet, but may be in the near future when I potentially leave it on the table at some coffee shop). Oh and by the way, you should probably click on the link to the song and follow the directions on the website. Spoiler Alert: It will possibly lead you to the greatest thing you've ever seen. You're welcome.

I also really like small towns. And cities are definitely not small towns. Though I suppose there are always parts of cities that can feel somewhat small town-like. But can anywhere be better than Owensville, Missouri? Where the backyards look like this: 

Try and tell me you don't want to roll around on Papa's perfect grass.

And the bingo cards look like this:

If I could choose any of those dotters, I would choose purple.

I suppose we'll just have to wait and see where I end up! And by that, I mean "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see if I get a job!" And at this point, the chances that I'm rolling around in Grammy and Papa's backyard forever are looking pretty high. I think I'm okay with that.

oh monday.

I'm tired of Mondays. Monday's are boring. I do not like them. I have absolutely no obligations on Mondays and it kills me.  Take today, for example: I woke up, brushed my teeth, made coffee and my morning bagel, sat on the couch, checked my email, sat on the couch a little longer, painted my nails and that's it. That's all I've accomplished today. It's pathetic. Sure, this means that I can sit perfectly still until my nails dry completely, reducing the risk for smudges, but I'm bored. I've consumed so much coffee I'm shaking and I need something to do. Approximately 94% of those of you reading this post probably want to punch me in the throat right now, but I would trade you places in a heartbeat.  

I would go somewhere, but:
1) It's snowing.
2) I have no gas in my car.
3) I have nowhere to go.
4) I have no money.

So, I'm stuck here. On my couch. In my attempt to find something to do with my time, I Googled images for the word "bored" and I came up with this gem:

Earth Cat vs Moon Mouse.

I'm not completely sure how this relates to "bored," but it does further enforce my fear of cats. Cats are terrifying and I do not like them. I mean, look at the fangs on Earth Cat. Poor little Moon Mouse doesn't know what's coming. I especially dislike fat cats. Sometimes I can handle skinny cats if they do funny things. My friends, Abby and Chris, have a cat that leaps up on stair rails and that's pretty funny to watch because sometimes he falls off the side. But their cat is skinny. Fat cats are gross. Seriously, look at this:

Ew. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

Imagine this animal walking around your house. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say scooting around your house, because I'm pretty sure its legs will not support its weight. Gross. Maybe my disgust of fat cats stems from that time in high school anatomy class when we had to dissect cats. And of course my group got the chubby one. And when we made cuts into its leg, fat particles started gooshing out (yes, gooshing). And it was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. And I still have nightmares about it. Other animals aren't that gross when they're fat. Take this fat bunny, for example:

I. Want. To. Hug. This.

Fat bunny=not creepy at all. Just fluffy. If I had this bunny I may or may not be the happiest girl on Earth (regular Earth, not on fanged cat Earth). Not only is it adorable, but you can use the fur to make useful things like mittens. And who wouldn't want a pair of bunny mittens? However, in the defense of cats, I do like kittens. And I would like them even more if they all looked like this all the time:

Living the dream.

All this fear and disgust of cats probably means I'm going to fall in love and marry some guy who loves fat cats and I'm going to have to watch it roll around the house every boring Monday. Here's hoping I have more obligations on Mondays in the future!

good clean fun.

On Friday it was super stormy. I was at preschool. The rain was gushing down. The thunder was loud. The sky was black. The children were singing "Rain, Rain, Go Away." It was pretty exciting. And then, just when I thought things couldn't get any more thrilling, the tornado sirens went off.  Now, preschool children often don't know what is happening around them, and this was no exception to their confusion. I mean, they are just 3-5 years old, so confusion is a big part of their lives right now. For example, the other week it was unusually warm outside, but the kids were all still wearing long sleeves. Because it's supposed to be winter. Anyway, they were rolling around on the ground telling me how hot they were so I had to explain to them that if they're a little warm, they can push their sleeves up to cool off. And life was okay again.


Anyway, when the sirens went off, the principal made an announcement on the intercom that we need to go to our shelters. So, we lined them up and marched them all to our "Safe Spot," aka the boy's bathroom. At this point, none of them had any idea what was happening. We walked into the bathroom and every child immediately just went into a stall and went to the bathroom.  I tried to explain that we're just in our safe shelter and they don't have to use the bathroom, but I wasn't fast enough.  Then things got a lot grosser. And here are the reasons why:


1) Little girls have never seen urinals before. Which obviously means they're going to lay all over them, flush them constantly, touch the flush water, etc...I mean, who can blame them, really? Urinals are weird. And if you're 4 years old, they're even weirder. It then became a really fun game to touch the urinals and have to wash hands. Fun.

If I were in preschool I would want to touch this, too.

2) If you keep preschoolers in one place for an extended length of time, say the time it takes for a tornado warning to pass, they will undoubtably lay down and start rolling around. Which is fine if we're anywhere but the bathroom, but we weren't. We were in the boy's bathroom of a preschool center.


3) Not only were the children all over the ground, but all of their belongings were scattered around the floor as well. Sanitary.


Maybe we should reconsider the location of our Safe Spot...

a few of my favorite things.

Today I was going to work on my homework for my online class. Then, I decided I'd rather not do that. And then I checked the school website and the homework wasn't even posted yet! The world doesn't want me to do my homework today! I really like when these things happen. In fact, I tend to like most things, but I do have some favorite things. And since I know you were just sitting around thinking "I wonder what Julie's favorite things are," I've decided to share some of them with you.


1) I love to decorate cd's (yeah, I know you're probably supposed to capitalize "CD" but I think it looks cuter in lowercase letters. Deal with it). As in color on burned cd's with Sharpies. And I must say, I'm getting pretty good at it. Today, I burned a Band of Horses cd and you should see the horse I drew on it. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't really good. It's running across the bottom of the cd. With the band name and albums written around the middle and outside edges. It's beautiful. And backwards in this picture. I don't know how to change that.

Look at that horse! I mean, just look at it!

I'm going to decorate The Weepies later tonight. I'm thinking some little birds holding up the letters of the album name with their beaks. So, please do not disturb me between the times of 9 and 9:30pm, for I will be coloring. Thanks.


2) I love going to visit my grandparents. And since I don't have class or any other responsibilities on Mondays, I've started using that day as my Owensville Visit Day every once in a while. This week in Owensville, I arrived Sunday night, just in time to make dinner. We had turkey tenderloin, mashed potatoes, asparagus, noodles, and homemade bread, all sufficiently doused in butter. Because that's what we do at Grammy and Papa's house. Put butter on everything. Literally. It's very healthy. After dinner, I went to bed. I was tired. Judge me. But don't worry, I didn't sleep very long because there was a tornado warning and the sirens started going off. So, Grammy came in and woke me up, wrapped me in a blanket and put me on a chair in the basement bathroom for a while. We were the safest people in town. Except for Papa, who wouldn't come downstairs and instead insisted on standing with the side door open so he could see what's coming. Needless to say, we survived. 


On Monday morning, Grammy and I went to rehab, aka the gym. I ran on a treadmill alongside the rest of the age 75+ patrons. At one point, I was so noticeably sweaty that an old man brought me a towel. He said he "noticed I was wiping my sweat on my sleeve." I'm gross. After the gym, Grammy and I went to the church to help the church-ladies fold newsletters and stuff envelopes. I got the stuff and lick job. Then we went home, took naps, and ate dinner. Then I had to leave because it was Monday and I'm in grad school. And if you're not familiar with the days in the week, Monday is not actually a weekend day. Meaning I unfortunately had to go back to Columbia and do things.


3) I love The Weepies. If you've never listened to them, you may or may not like them. But you should at least give them a try. Then you can have your own opinion. Fun! They're very calm. And sometimes we all need a little calm in our lives. If I had to pick a picture to represent The Weepies it would be this picture:

Nothing represents "calm" like dolphins in space.

Doesn't that picture just make you feel like everything in life is going to be okay? I used to have a t-shirt with dolphins swimming amongst the stars on the front, but I gave it away. What was I thinking?! Just imagine how calm I could feel if I were wearing it and listening to The Weepies right now. I guess I'll just have to stick with only music. And this claymation music video. I often wish all music videos were claymation. Thank you, The Weepies:

(Also, that is the first video I've ever put on this blog! I know how to use technology!)


4) I love to eat. Tonight I'm going to eat some ice cream. Surprise. And then I'm going to make a peanut butter milkshake with chunks of Reese's eggs in it. You may wonder why I'm eating two kinds of ice cream, and I will tell you. It's because I bought fat-free Breyer's frozen yogurt. You also may think that sounds gross, but I assure you it is delicious. Plus, it means I can eat it it all night long and not feel bad about it. Which I'm planning on doing. Starting in approximately 12 minutes.


5) I love to sleep. I go to bed at 10pm. And I love it. You don't want to be around me when I'm lacking sleep. Ask my siblings, I'm scary. And I frequently burst into tears. No one wants to see that. I've even started taking melatonin so that I sleep better. It may just be mental, but I think it's working.

ice cream, i will run to you.

Today I bought new running shoes. And then I bought a half gallon of Maine Blueberry Cheesecake ice cream. And another half gallon of vanilla ice cream. And a pint of coffee ice cream. I think I may have a problem. 

Ice cream holds a very special place in my heart.
A place way up between the spots filled by fluffy bunnies and my grandparents. 

I've recently realized that the only reason I work out is so that I can eat more ice cream. Is it bad that I may or may not live for ice cream? I eat it every night, and sometimes for breakfast, because frozen yogurt is the same as regular yogurt, just frozen. Fact. It even have "live and active cultures" to help with my digestion, because we all know I need it after the massive amounts of ice cream I consume. It's almost as thoughtful as it is delicious!

These happy little guys want to make me regular!

Who cares if I have to run 7 miles so that I can eat numerous servings every day? Who cares if I eat small dinners so that I can save room in my stomach for multiple scoops of frozen goodness? Who cares if I could take down the entire gallon and a pint that I bought tonight in one sitting?  I'll tell you who. The San Francisco Creamery Co. cares. That's who. And why should they care about a girl from the Midwest who loves ice cream? Because they have an ice cream competition that I will dominate..1 hour, 3 bananas, 8 scoops of ice cream, 8 servings of toppings, mounds of whipped cream, toasted almonds and cherries. Bring. It. On.

Is that supposed to be a lot of ice cream?

Apparently no girls have ever finished this challenge, and I'm planning on being the first.  For my toppings, I'm going to get quadruple caramel, double hot fudge, and double butterscotch. And sprinkles. Not the chocolate kind, but the colorful kind. For my training, I will continue to eat gallons of ice cream in one sitting. Sure, you may have to drag my bloated stomach from the premises afterward, but I will finish. And you will be proud. (Can you tell that my roomie and I sit around watching Man vs. Food, mumbling to ourselves how we could finish each challenge? Well, we do and we could. I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed about that...)


And for the record, the Maine Blueberry Cheesecake flavor is phenomenal. Think blueberry cheesecake flavored ice cream, chunks of pie crust and blueberry syrup swirls. Yes, I will probably finish it all tonight.


Dear Ice Cream,
I love you.
Forever yours,
Julie

confessions.

I have some confessions to make. But just to prove I'm normal, I will provide supporting evidence for each juicy, personal disclosure. I AM NORMAL!


1) I've recently started listening to country music. I know, some of you will be proud of me and the rest of you may never speak to me again, but there is just something about nice weather that makes me want to listen to guitars and banjos. Actually, I could listen to banjo music any time. I love banjos. Not only do they make music perfect enough for the ears of angels, but Kermit the Frog also plays one.

Try and tell me you don't like banjos now. Just try.

And Steve Martin.

Yeah, he actually plays the banjo. In real life. Look how happy and content he is! And he's also wearing a Peace Corps shirt. Doesn't get any better than that.

And squirrels.

Yeah, they actually play the banjo, too.

And my friend Alex.

He's good. And I don't just think that because we're friends.

I've also found that country stations don't play as many commercials, which is a big plus in my book.

2) In the past two days, I've eaten, among other things, two boxes of cheddar jack Cheez-Its. Now, there is no way you can convince me that's not disgusting. I know. It's sick. I just discovered they existed the other night at work, so I immediately went out to get some. Then they were on sale at Hyvee. So I bought two boxes and devoured them. I almost opened a box before I even checked out, like when moms open things to feed their screaming children while they're shopping. That was almost me, except I'm not a mom or a screaming child so I held back until I got to the parking lot. They're just that good. Trust me. This guy likes them as much as I do.

This is me. Only I'm smaller, female and I have curly hair.

And so does this hamster.

No one is judging you, little guy. Eat your heart out.

And this girl.

Those are Cheez-It nails. I think I should probably be her friend.

3) I love to search for jobs online. I don't know why, but I do. And I also really like to apply for jobs. Sure, I haven't gotten one yet. I haven't even gotten an interview for anything yet, but at least I'm having a great time searching and applying, right? Normally, I wake up every morning, brew some coffee, eat my fiber bagel with cream cheese (I love fiber) and apply for a job or two. But I'm not the only one. These people love job searching, too.

Wearing suits. Getting jobs. Jumping. Loving life.

And this dog.

I was wondering where he was made. That's where I was made, too! We have so much in common!

And this guy.

Gotta love the classifieds. If you don't find a job, at least you might find a puppy.

4) I'm really glad each confession had a semi-creepy picture of an animal doing something out of the ordinary. You're welcome. Here's one more for good measure.

Is that bunny wearing a tutu? Perfect.

oh seamonkeys.

I have a car. It's red. I got it from my grandpa. I call it Seamonkey. And it has a flat tire.  I would like to venture out on a limb and say that I am the world's worst car owner. I forget to check fluids. I don't remember when I need an oil change. And I drive all around town with a flat tire. And by flat, I mean flat. Not semi-slow-leaking flat. I mean tire-flapping-on-the-road-driving-on-the-rim flat.  Why did I think the weird flapping sounds and smells of burning rubber just meant that my car was too cold? Why didn't I realize that meant I was literally driving on the rim of my tire? There are no answers.

No, this is not my car, but it is red. And it does have a flat tire like mine.

This is why I need to live somewhere with public transportation.


Also, I painted my nails the other day. No big deal, right? I paint my nails pretty much every day. Well, for some reason I decided to paint them ON my computer. I thought that I had succeeded in keeping things clean, but I just found a spot of neon pink on my command key. Oh well, at least it's a pretty color. Maybe I should just paint that whole button neon pink. It will be just like middle school when it was cool to paint your lunch card with glittery nail polish. Those were the good days...when I didn't have a car to take care of and people didn't judge me for painting my belongings with glitter.