sleep-tickling

Good news:

We got all of our stuff moved this weekend!  And thankfully, we had a lot of help.  Friends and family: we love you guys.

Pictures of our new place to come.

[I am very excited about this.  It is already looking good and I am so excited to decorate.  #callmecrazy]

And now for a funny story:

Tim is very ticklish.  [This is important for the "funny story."  I promise I'm not just telling you random factoids.]

Consequently, I love to tickle him.  [I am also very ticklish, but he learned early on in our relationship that I can't control my body movements while I'm being tickled so I may or may not have kicked him in the stomach once.  Oops.]

And apparently, I love to tickle him even in my sleep.  Because the other night, we were both falling asleep, and I just started full-on tickling him.  [This is all according to Tim because I don't remember it at all.]

So he started jerking around and woke me up, and my first thought was that someone must be breaking in or something by the crazy way that he was moving around.

Then when I found out what [he says] happened, I got super annoyed.  I really have no rationale for this other than that I had just been unexpectedly awakened.

I turned my back to him.

He said, "Babe are you mad?"

"No, I'm just frustrated."

He said he couldn't even be frustrated with me because he was laughing too dang hard.

Then the next day, he brought it up and I had forgotten all about it.  Then I couldn't stop laughing.  [And let me tell you, this was a problem because I was talking on my phone in a public place, laughing my head off, and probably looking like a crazy person.]

But I couldn't help it.

Now if I could only learn to sleep-study.

For fun.

Does anyone else do crazy things in their sleep?

distracting

My boss bought me this [cute?] little guy on her trip to Iceland.

She didn't tell me anything about him, so my imagination is left to run wild.

Maybe he is a curse, and just like Pinocchio my nose will end up growing in size as a result.  [Do you see the size of his schnoz?]

Maybe he comes alive on Halloween.  [Only a few days left to test this hypothesis.]

Maybe he brings the Icelandic spirit with him and will turn everyone in sight into a ravishing, blue-eyed blonde.

Maybe, as is my preferred hypothesis, if left on my desk he will protect me from all the evils of the office environment.

Or maybe, as is the most likely hypothesis...

he doesn't do anything...

and just sits on my desk...

and distracts me from my work...

making me wonder about what it is he represents.

Which is probably nothing.

[Yep, it's one of those days.]

p.s. My brother Jeff is staying with us right now, because he's down in Phoenix for job training.  I love Jeff.  And I also love that because Jeff is here, I have another excuse to go to Bahama Bucks.  [I've got to be a good hostess, you know.]

the important things

So I bet y'all were wondering how the Taylor Swift concert went, right?  ...right?

Well, it was wonderful.  I got in touch with my inner child and sang and danced right along with all those 13-year-old girls.  Katie went with me and wrote an awesome post about it here.

[And yes, actually, the churro and the slushies afterwards were two of my favorite parts of the night.  But don't worry, Taylor, you still came in #1.]

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Also.  This week's episode of Psych was hilarious.  Seriously.  We laughed our heads off.  [The late hour might have had something to do with this, but I promise it was funny regardless of the hour.]

Aaaand.  We're moving this week.  I am so excited.  Who the heck knows how I'm going to find time for school and work and moving [and blogging], but somehow everything always manages to work out, right?

And finally.  I have been noticing my face turning red a lot more.  I have always had this tendency, but lately it's been worse.  I mean, it only happens when I'm embarrassed, or nervous, or excited, or have been put on the spot unexpectedly, or....oh yeah.

All the time.

Ahaha.

Does this happen to anyone else?

Or am I alone in my awkward face-flushes?

Ok.  Ok bye.

taylor swift

On Friday, I am going to see this girl:

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with this girl.

Two of my favorite girls in one place.

Ok, so I've never met Taylor.

But she's still a favorite.

I am so.dang.excited.

We got the tickets...what...at the beginning of the summer?  Before I was engaged anyway.  It seemed so far away at the time.  And truthfully, I guess it was.  I got engaged, married, and started grad school in that span of time.

But now...it's finally here.

And you can bet that slushies will be involved.  Because, well, they always are on important occasions.  [And not-so-important occasions.  Let's be honest.]

bumming around

I have a confession.

I was a bum.


All weekend.

And not only was I a bum all weekend, but I did something all weekend for which I am [only very slightly] ashamed.

I watched Charmed.

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Oh yes, I did.

I had never seen it while it was on, but thanks to Netflix, it is my newest guilty pleasure.

And that's where the slight shame comes in.

It's a tv show for like a 15-year-old girl, right?  But there I was, watching it all weekend.

But for the first time in weeks, I didn't have homework and I didn't have anywhere to be.

And it felt amazing.

I got to turn my brain off for a little while and relax.

Poor Timmy had to work all weekend, but let's be honest:

He doesn't like Charmed anyway.  And that's ok.

When we're together we sometimes watch the Cosby Show thanks to this girl.  And that's fun, too.

But sometimes a girl's just gotta have her guilty pleasure, right?

[#dontjudge]

Kbyenow.

moving

Have I told you we're moving again at the end of this month?

No, not into a house.  Not yet.  [We kinda decided that with school and work and stress to postpone that for the time being.]

But we are moving into a condo.  A two-bedroom, two-bath condo.  Which may [or may not] sound small, but let me reassure you - it is far bigger than our one-bedroom, one-bath apartment.

Don't get me wrong, I love our apartment.  And quite frankly, I always will.  It was the first place I lived with my very own husband.

However, when your apartment looks like this all the time...

...with stuff lining the walls...

...you know you just might need a bit more space.

I am so excited for this move.  And the rent is cheaper, so it doesn't get much better than that, eh?

And just for posterity's sake, a couple more of the current apartment:

Here's the table that came with our furnished apartment.  [Bye-bye table.]  And more stuff lining the walls.

Tiny but well-loved.

Don't judge the decor, por favor.  I hadn't really started decorating, porque I knew we'd be moving ASAP.

[Yeah, I'm not really sure where the random spanish is coming from either.]

For fun.

Anyway, hopefully soon I'll be able to show you a fully-decorated new condo.  [Soon meaning within the next couple of months.  Don't hold your breath.]

I kinda like moving.  At least the redecorating, reorganizing part.  [Not so much the heavy furniture, arms-aching part.]  Is that weird?

uncertainty

[Disclaimer: This is the post where I tell way too much personal stuff about myself and make y'all uncomfortable.]

This semester so far has been a struggle for me.  [<--- Understatement.]

And the reason it's been a struggle all comes down to one word:

Anxiety.

Mmm hmm.  Kind of ironic, considering I'm studying counseling, eh?

I've struggled with mild to moderate anxiety ever since I can remember.  [And believe me, I've tried to forget that time I was in swimming lessons for the first time and threw up in the pool because I was so nervous.]

And now it's reached a low point.  [Or a high point.  Whichever way you choose to see it.]

I've given this a lot - and I mean a lot - of thought.  Because even though I graduated with two undergraduate degrees in four years, this is approximately 10,000 times more work.  It's not really harder, but it is more work.  But it would be totally worth it, if it was what I really wanted to do, right?

And that's where my problem comes in - my uncertainty about the program.  My uncertainty about what I really even want to do with my career.  [I realize this is sounding a bit like a mid-life crisis, but I promise I haven't dyed my hair or bought an entirely-too-expensive sports car yet.]

This uncertainty is exacerbating my anxiety to ridiculous proportions.  Like, sometimes-debilitating proportions.  [Just ask my very sweet husband.]

I pray about it all the time.  And I know He will answer me, but sometimes it's in His time, not mine.  And that's ok, because at least I know that He still cares.  In fact, I have a feeling He's way more involved than I realize.

The truth is, there really isn't a point to all of this other than to throw it out into the void and hope that maybe somebody has been through something similar.  Or in the hopes that maybe it will help someone know that they're not alone.

Because for now, it's not fun.

But I know someday it will all make sense.

[Feeling awkward yet? ;)]