It's Not My Fault

Two of the coaches at our gym have this little game they play. There are large cut-outs of each of them that are near the whiteboard and they will put word bubbles up randomly with "conversations" that they think are funny.

The other day, one of the coaches was saying, "It's not my fault if you don't hate yourself enough to change."

I laughed a little to myself. 

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Recently I read the following quote from Emma Stone. When asked about beauty she responded: 

Confidence is the only key. I know a lot of people who aren't traditionally 'beautiful' - not symmetrical or perfect-bodied or perfect-skinned. But none of that matters because all that shines through is their confidence, humor and comfort with themselves. I can't think of any better representation of beauty than someone who is unafraid to be herself.

If I didn't love Emma Stone before I read that, I would certainly love her after. (But really, who could not love her after Easy A? That shit was brilliant!)

In the past two months I have had a number of conversations with people in which they tell me that I am intimidating to others (both men and women.)

Apparently it is my confidence that other people find intimidating. To which I respond, I'm not arrogant. It's not like I'm walking into a room and telling people that I'm better than they are. I walk into a room with an "I'm awesome" attitude. I'm not saying that you aren't awesome, please feel free to exhibit your awesomeness and I will celebrate it with you.

I am unwilling to change from that perspective.

Certainly if I was walking around all sad and lamenting all of the things I disliked about myself, no one would want to be my friend. So why is it bad to be the other way?

Plus, now Emma Stone thinks I'm beautiful. That freaking rocks!

Everything You Didn't Know You Needed

Last week I was meeting a friend for dinner and I was a little early so I thought I would stop by IKEA. 

Recently on Instagram, I saw someone post a picture of their jewelry displayed and they said that they had purchased the hooks and bars at IKEA. 

I was not prepared for what was to come. 

When I walked in, it seemed that my only option was to go upstairs to the "showroom." I wasn't really sure what that meant, but I figured it was where I would find what I wanted. 

It was not. And furthermore, I just kept walking in what felt like circles. Thank the TTBJ that there were arrows on the floor because I'm honestly not sure where I would have ended up. And what if there was a fire? I didn't ever see a fire exit.

Finally I asked someone who worked there about the jewelry displays, and he looked at me like I was crazy. Then he said, "Oh, I think you're talking about our belt rack. That is downstairs in our home organization department." 

Uhh - where is that? 

Just go downstairs and it is department number 7.

Wizzah-wuh? Department number 7? How many departments are down there?

The answer is a lot. A lot of departments full of all of the things that I didn't even realize I needed. But all of the sudden they were there in front of me. At such a reasonable price. I started putting random things in the giant yellow bag.

Picture frames. Bath mats. Curtain hanging kits.

Finally I made it to department number 7 - but what I was looking for was not there. I was devastated. 

I put the yellow bag full of randomness down and went to find the exit.

Not as easy as it sounds. 

I texted my friend, "I'm stuck in IKEA and I don't know how to get out. If I don't make it to dinner go on without me."

Guess Who's Back. Back Again...

Crown and water at Nick's Cove on Tomales Bay

Sorry for the lack of posts last week, I was visiting BigSurprise. I think I may have mentioned at some point that she was pregnant with twins, but I don't think that I ever told you that she had them. 

On July 30, she gave birth to two precious baby boys. I feel in love with them with the first picture she sent, so when she mentioned that she needed a little help with the nursery and getting settled, it was a no brainer for me to head up there for a week of fun.

Lots of things happened and I hope that my visit helped her get organized enough that she is feeling better about it. We cooked a lot of food to put in the freezer. I fed her most meals while I was there. And I fell even deeper in love with the sweetest baby boys in Northern California!

The two-month photo shoot was more difficult than you would imagine. Baby E on the left. Baby K on the right.

Baby E and I fell in love immediately.

Enjoying bonus snuggle time with Baby K during the flight delay

I was set to leave on Friday. My plane was scheduled to depart at 2:30 pm, so we left the babies with the nanny and headed to Oakland. We got to the airport right around 1pm, said goodbye, and I headed inside to check my bag. As I was in line, a man came over and said that due to a maintenance issue, the flight would not depart until 8:00pm. 

Yes, you read that right - a 5.5 hour flight delay.

So I texted BigSurprise and we decided that she would come back and get me and we would head home for the delay.

Little did we know, it would take us forever to get home! The traffic was ridiculous!

Finally we made it, fed the boys, and basically got back in the truck and headed back to the airport.

I had already checked my bag earlier, so all I needed to do was go through security when I got back to the airport. 

Even so, we gave ourselves upwards of two and a half ours to get back to the airport.

As we got started, the traffic started to get bad. Like really bad. Like literally a full stop for multiple minutes bad.

BigSurprise is starting to get a little freaked out and I'm trying to calm her down. She keeps  saying, "You're going to miss your flight. What are we going to do if you miss your flight?"

In one of my strongest moments yet, I remained calm and told her that we couldn't worry about that. All we could do was keep driving and hope we made it on time. 

I plugged the airport address into the GPS and it said that we would arrive at the airport at 7:27pm. As we are sitting in dead stopped traffic, one of the babies starts crying hysterically. Then BigSurprise tells me to look at her gas gauge. It says "82 miles to empty." I tell her that we are only 31 miles from the airport. She says that once it hits 5o it goes to zero right away. 

Baby is still screaming and I'm starting to get a little stressed out myself. I ask her if I climb into the backseat if I can feed the baby. She says yes.

At this point I should tell you that she has an extended cab Ford F-150. And the baby seats are in the middle and behind the passenger seat. So when I get in the back, I'm going to have to be behind the driver seat.

I have no idea how I managed to get back there without hurting myself, but I did. And I begin feeding Baby K. And texting Match. (Isn't that what everyone does when they are freaking out?) Then I put my head down and say a quick prayer that we make it to the airport on time, and safely. And that we don't run out of gas on the way.

About two minutes later, BigSurprise says, "Oh my God, Airplane! Look at the gas gauge now!" I look around her headrest and see, "132 miles to empty." I start to breathe a little easier. Then Match texts me, "Every time you and BigSurprise are together it seems to be a 'debunkle'" I relay this message to BigSurprise and she asks, "Is debacle a synonym for clusterf*ck?"

As we cross over the bridge, the traffic starts to thin out and we begin making up time. About every 5 minutes, BigSurprise gives me an update, "Now it says we will arrive at the airport at 7:25 and we have 80 miles to empty." And so on and so forth. 

As we get closer, BigSurprise comes up with a plan. When we get near the airport she is going to unbuckle her seatbelt so that when we get there I can jump out, grab my stuff, and run to security. She will then go to the gas station and fill up and wait to hear from me that I am on the plane before she heads back home.

We pull up to the airport at 7:23 - I run to security. I am literally the only person there. The guy taking boarding passes says, "What time does your flight leave?" I tell him 8:00pm - he says, "You have plenty of time. No need to run."

I get to the gate, and they aren't even boarding my flight.