My New Christmas Career

I LOVE Christmas.  I love to give gifts and I love to open them.  However, the whole process of people getting me gifts makes me stressed out.  I hate telling people "No, I really like the gift, I just maybe would have chosen a different color..." because that really means, "I don't like this gift, but I feel bad for saying it."  And I do. I feel AWFUL for saying it.

When I was 5 my mom bought me a pair of pink cowboy boots.  They were a soft pink leather with a glitter lightening bolt down the side and pink leather fringe.  I kid you not.  I think about them now and one word comes to mind: awesome.  However, at age 5, I opened these boots on Christmas morning and as soon as I saw them I BURST into tears. Bawling. I hated those boots.  But I was not crying because I hated them so much I was crying because I knew I was going to have to tell my mom I hated them.  The whole thing seems a bit odd to me:

Don't you think the tears would have given away my extreme dislike?

Way for me to be an extremely sensitive 5 year old.

Nice style sense Bonnie. What were you thinking? Those things were money.

I feel like if I would have kept those boots I may be a country singer and not a seminary student.

So this Christmas I am bound and determined not to cry because I am afraid someone's feelings will get hurt, but even more I am going to look for a career opportunity in my gifts.  My mom always tells me she wont buy me a surfboard until I learn to surf.  I tell her that it's too much work to rent one, if I just owned  one I would surf the waves like I was born to do it.  So I just feel like this year could be the year, that someone will get me a gift that will just turn my life around, and this is what I asked for:

Gift: Exercise workout DVD               
Career: I am loud enough, I could totally do that


Gift: Hanson Take the Walk Shoes      
Career: Shoe Model. Missionary


Gift: Canon Digital Camera                  
Career: Professional Photographer. Small sales to my mom on Etsy

Gift: Roxy Surf Board                          
Career: Enough said.

This Week is Not My Friend

I have been so incredibly MIA this week and this is why:

Monday: Worked instead of day off

Tuesday: Day off instead of worked, but internet is down.

Tuesday night:  5 hour retreat for Seminary

Wednesday:  Internet down, sat at Starbucks for an 8 hour work day and only got one Venti Earl Gray tea. Got called "cheap" I'm sure many times by the employees.

Wednesday night:  Meant to write a paper, but didn't.

Thursday: Work. Dropped my iphone and broke it. The screen goes back and froth between a black and white barcode or a blue and yellow striped Gap button-up.  

Thursday night:  This is now, let's hope that I: babysit, and then write my life away.  No internet and no phone....should be able to get something done.

Idaho Travels

My husband and I are going to visit his home state full of potatoes: Idaho.


He actually hates that joke, but I still get a kick out of it.


Like most places you travel, if you look around at the people on the plane you can always tell (or at least guess) where they are coming from or where they live.  For example, if you are en route from Arizona to New York, and you see someone wearing a dreamcatcher necklace, chances are you've got a Zoni on your hands.


Or if you are going to Hawaii and someone is decked out in sunglasses and a hat and a fake lei, well then, you know they are not the native Hawaiian.


So today, I fully expect to see lots of these types of shirts:  

as well as these:  

and I bet we could guess who is the Idahoan and who isn't.  

My History Repeating Itself

When I was younger, I would draw the infamous "peace love and happiness" on everything.  It was like my slogan.  I don't even know if I understood what that meant.  I cringe when I think about that on my trapper keeper.

I literally drew that symbol everywhere. I think I may have even written "flower power" with the "o's" as flowers.  Oh, so very creative of me.

When I was in fourth grade, I took a yearbook picture in a tye-dye shirt with these beaded earrings and my sister told me I looked like Janis Joplin.

When I was a senior in high school I became really attached to tye-dye again, and wore it all the time.  So much, that when I entered college I had a few good friends that called me a hippie.

That was years ago.  I am totally passed it.  

Until now.  

Tonight I found myself googling peace sign necklaces and I envisioned myself wearing them in photos and walking out of my apartment complex holding up two in a very peaceful manner to whomever was passing by.

I think my history is repeating itself.  Although, without going into too much detail,  I think I might understand this whole peace thing a bit better this time around, at least I am trying.  

 Or maybe I am just a hippie.

We Wasted the Good Surprise on You

Surprise parties present such problems for everyone involved.

 If you are the guest of honor, then the weeks leading up to the party, you think that no one cares about you.  This is because everyone who knows about the party is trying really hard to be really sneaky and therefore say nothing about anything pertaining to the event at hand.  Not even a hint that they know that something is going on.  So if it's a birthday, no one even acts like they remember it's coming.  If it's a congratulatory party, no one acts like they care.  You may as well have lost your job, or quit school. So you end up feeling that you are a loser who has no friends, and the ones you do have, hate you.

If you are the organizer, you are forced to think of who to invite.  This is so crucial because if you invite someone that you have no idea that the guest of honor has a secret loathing for, then you are screwed.  You shift quickly from "party-organizer-hero" to "party-ruiner."  If you invite the enemy, then you are better off not throwing a party at all.

When it's time for the "SURPRISE" everyone is always freaking out.  And with good reason, I mean no one was mean to their friend for no reason right?  But this moment is either overly prepared or completely under prepared.  If it's coordinated perfectly, then the guest of honor is receiving text messages or phone calls telling them where to go and when, that the organizer hopes to pull off as a spur of the moment plan, and the guest of honor will wonder why the heck the organizer is suddenly so freaking prompt and organized.  If it's not planned well, then the surprise is wasted.  The house is full and booming with loud tunes and doritos crunching and then right before the guest of honor gets there everything is quiet.  You have to balance a fine line between being organized and being aloof.  Which is really hard to do when you are trying to be yourself and make someone go somewhere right at an exact moment.  This is the most stressful part of the party.

Attached to the "SURPRISE" moment, is the mess of the picture takings.  For some reason, when people hide and are waiting, there is this temptation to crouch down.  No matter that there is most likely nothing to hide behind since everyone is in a living room, if people are crouching they feel like they are being really stealth.  So when the guest of honor opens that door and people scream the beloved "SURPRISE" all the cameras start flashing; but from down below.  This results in the guest of honor always having a double chin.  Eyes red, and stomach looking sort of pregnant.  They always demand that a fake "surprise picture" is taken, and it never fools anyone.

The People You'll Meet

At the Starbucks that I frequent, I usually run into this character.  He loves to communicate and so I know way too much about him:

1. He "loves all things Jesus"

2.  He is unemployed but is dying to find a job very fast.  But, he sees that for most jobs he wants, he needs  a Masters.  So when he found out that I was getting a Master's he said, "Oh where?  I need to pick one up."

3.  His career goals have evolved from accounting to health care to drug rehab.

4.  He no longer goes to this Starbucks anymore because the soft chairs started to hurt his back.  He goes to one now with "more tables."

5. After telling him all about my job, he has concluded that my line of work is a "professional reader."

Oh the people you'll meet.

Class Act

We had macaroni and cheese with apple sauce on the side for dinner last night.

I ate it on my bed, with a tray, in my running clothes while watching Sienfeld.

All I could think about was how I would love some wine to go with it.

I'm such a class act.

M.I.A.

I have been totally and completely M.I.A. lately.  I guess that is what happens when you work full time, go to grad school full time and try to live a life.  But I think I am back for a few days now, so that is good.  Here are a few things that you have missed hearing about:

1. My best friend Stephanie got engaged.
2. We tried to send out our thank you notes for our wedding gifts and found out we have about 5 gifts we have no idea where they came from.
3. We talked about "bodily fluids" in seminary class. Oh, Leviticus.
4. I was dying to go to Costco and got all hyped up when we ran out of time and we could not go. (yes, that is a highlight).
5. I threw away some hair dye coupons so they could not "tempt me". (That's a direct quote)
6. I realized I have a book due today and I have not finished it yet. Or started it.  Or even have it in my presence.

You are probably so sad that I have not blogged about these things.  Grab a tissue, it's ok.  I will be back on my A-game this week.

Friendship in Photos

"My friends are my estate."

-Emily Dickinson

"The bird a nest, the spider a web, a man friendship."

-William Blake

"What is a friend? A single soul in two bodies."

-Aristotle

"The making of friends, who are real friends, 

is the best token we have of 

man's success in life."

-Edward Evertt Hale

"In a friend, you find a second self."-Isabelle Norton

"Ah, how good it feels.  The hand of an old friend."

-Mary Englebright

"Good communication is as stimulating

as black coffee, just as hard to 

sleep after." 

-Anne Morrow Lindbergh

"Friendship? Yes Please." -Charles Dickens

Photos provided by Stephanie Fay with Tunnel Photography .  She has a unique gift; the ability to capture the warmth behind the lens.

PhD Here I Come

I'm very ambitious.   I get really excited about people who are doing great things in life and I want to do the same. And I think that I really could do it if I tried.  But usually, I dont want to do that same thing, I just want to be that ambitious.  But the road to that final conclusion is always a bit bumpy.

I wanted to be Michael Phelps earlier this summer, so I swam 50 lengths in my apartment complex pool.  Once.

So yesterday, I was very emotional about Barack winning. I'm totally excited about it.  In fact, as you may have guessed, I have lots to say about it, but I have not had time to process it all yet, and I'm trying a new thing called "think before you speak". Or in this case, write.  So more on Barack later.

But anyway, yesterday I got really excited about Barack Obama and change and politics.

I get really excited about people who are doing great things in life and I want to do the same. And I think that I really could do it if I tried.  But usually, I dont want to do that same thing, I just want to be that ambitious.  But the road to that final conclusion is always a bit bumpy.  This is what happened last night at my house:

Cy: "Hey Bon.  What are you doing?"

Me: "Oh just looking at PhD Programs online."

Cy: "That's great!"

Me: "Yeah.  I think I might change my focus.  I'm going to get a PhD in Political Science."

Cy: "[smiling] Oh really?  I think that you can get whatever you want, but I dont think that you want to get a PhD in Political Science."

Me: "You are mean."

Twenty minutes later...

Me: "Thanks for saying that. I don't really want a whole PhD in Political Science.  I would rather just go to cnn.com"

I'm ridiculous.  Good thing I have people to keep me grounded

Thanksgiving? Are You Still There?

As I run around the beautiful city of Costa Mesa, where South Coast Plaza is the center of "culture", I am already surrounded by holiday decorations.  There are tinsel-coated giant stars on the light posts, larger than life Christmas ornaments that surround the mall entrances making you think you have blown   a warp whistle from Super Mario Brothers and landed in Big World.  And not to mention giant Santa Houses that take over the middle of the mall.  At first, I find myself oohing and ahhing over the Christmas Spirit, and wanting to put in my favorite Christmas album: Hanson's Snowed In.

But then, I pause, because I realize that it's only November 4th.  We skip from July 4th, to a small celebration of candy during Halloween and then we go straight to Christmas.  Thanksgiving, one the BEST and the oldest holidays in our country is getting the shaft.  For a people that claim to be sooo American, we sure do drop the turkey and mashed potatoes out the window.  I am here to say that:

I. LOVE. THANKSGIVING.

The food, the family, the giving of thanks.  It's wonderful.  I mean I'm not advocating that we put up large turkey heads at the mall, but don't you think that we could wait just a bit on the holiday decor?  Just to honor Thanksgiving?

We will be going to Catalina Island for the fourth year in a row this year, and I am so excited.  Good friends of ours live there, and I can not wait to visit again.  I made these photos old school so that we could instill some thanks for those that actually grew the corn and killed the turkey:

Melissa Tomeoni , from Soul Mates Photo gave me this great idea.  Check her out, and click here if you want to make your photos full of the olden times.

Voting Incentives

I voted today.

Then I went to my favorite addiction, even though I only get decaf, and got a free tall coffee.  Yes, all Starbucks are participating, so you can go and get one too!

However, I was a bit startled to find that the "Way I See It" quote on my free-voting cup was as follows:

"Politics is about getting outside of yourself and your own problems for a little while and fully immersing yourself in the lies and the deceit of others. "  -Stephen Elliott


Hmm.  Coincidence?

Let's hope. Otherwise, they will have some sort of uproar at some of our favorite caffeine locations.

 If not, then we have far bigger problems:  our stay awake potion that we put in our veins is anti-government.  Crap.

24th Birthday!

I recently turned 24, and I have a few photos to prove it.  My husband took me to dinner at wonderful Maggianos (of which I am still enjoying left-overs), and the next day was a beach bonfire with friends. It's one of the best things about SoCal: bonfire weather all year round.  In fact, we are toying with the idea of hot cocoa and smores on Christmas Eve.

Thank you for all your birthday wishes!!! I LOVE birthdays, and I am so blessed to be so loved.  I've been thinking though, on someone's birthday, shouldn't we thank their mom and dad?

Mom and Dad, thanks!

Tag!

Sweet Kristen tagged me!  I'm so stoked, it's my first one!  I really feel like I am part of the blogging world now.  All I need to do next is some free giveaways...but I dont have anything to give away.  So, here are my random facts:

1.  I have only been married for about 4 and a half months and I am so glad I got married young, because that is more time I get to spend with my husband.  I am so incredibly thankful for him.

2. Yesterday was my birthday and I turned 24.  I have no more sense in my head than I did when I was 23...or 12.

3. I LOVE banana and peanut butter.

4. I always think I am taller than I am.

5. Running is my biggest stress reliever.

6. I LOVE Starbucks Christmas blend.

7. I got new slippers for my birthday and I love them!

Alright, Shey , Kristen , Ethan , MaryBeth , Kali , Brianne , and Melissa , it's your turn!

Halloween Hair Disaster

1. It's not Halloween yet.  I'll get to that.  

2.  If you are reading this and thinking that I am so well put together, so on top of things, so graceful and tidy that I could never have a blog about a disaster, then you obviously do not know me well enough...or spent more than 5 minutes with me.

I am all about "fall colors".  I took a trip to Target last week and have been wearing "Hot For Chocolate", a very stylish nail color on my fingers ever since.

So, I decided today that I need a fall color in my hair.  Yes, it already is a fall color: brown.  But I decided that I needed a different one.  What I wanted and what I pictured was a beautiful array of browns and reds, both lights and darks, falling in perfect formation with my curls, creating a very fall look.  So much so, that if I were in the midst of a beautiful park filled with falling leaves, you may think that it was some sort of photo shoot for great curls. Or perhaps an environmental ad, assuring us that if we took care of the environment, we would become one.

But let's be honest, I'm just not that bold.  Curly hair has a tendency to look dry, and well, I have dry hair so that just makes it all the worse.  So when my hair is light in color, I feel like it looks like a stack of straw, super dry and ready to break.  That being said, I always go dark, but I still envision the light.  Today I left with "Soft Licorice Black" and pictured "Pecan", "Chestnut" "Paint the Town" (all titles of the wonderful fall colors I longed for.)

So my adventure began after dinner tonight, and I went in the bathroom and prepared for a new fall color.  Almost immediately it was disaster.  As I began squirting my head with the bottle, like an older person with no depth perception, I squirted right past my head and on to the wall, and the carpet.  I am sure I mumbled some sort of profanity and quickly wiped the dye off.  Coast clear.

No, not clear; black.  Cause Bonnie?  It's dye.  So it' dyes things. Stains things. Stays there.  I looked back no more than two minutes later and there are blackish purplish streaks running down the wall. Profanity again.  So I hurry up with my hair dye, which of course, is a really good way to make sure that you are getting every strand and that it's evenly colored.

At about that time, I hear Cy turn off the TV and I panicked.  Like a twelve year old who just spilled black emo hair dye on the carpet got caught on the phone late in the night, I just shut the door and locked it.  YES! I am a freak!  ( I am seriously dying [no pun intended] laughing at myself for doing that. What is wrong with me?)  Cy comes over to the bathroom and asks what I am doing in there, and of course I have no explanation so I open the door and show him the wall.  But he does not notice because he is pointing at the Dalmatian spot of emo on the carpet.  That too, does not come up with one little wash cloth swipe.

The work began, and an hour later, we have a wall that barely has streaks, and a patch of carpet that is soaked in Resolve, water, shampoo, vinegar, and hairspray.  (Can you tell I googled how to clean it up?)

In addition, I have black Halloween hair that is not at all like a London afternoon frolicking in the leaves.  Instead, I will fit in great when I go to the Twilight premier (ok not premier, just the regular showing with way too much excitement) next month, and in the mean time, I could sit in a dark room, and between my hair and the my googly eyes, people would genuinely think that I am a ghost.

Soft black licorice?  Try Tar in the Night.

Pumpkin Fun!

A wonderful friend from out of town, Shey , visited this weekend for a pre-birthday celebration!  We went to the pumpkin patch at Tanaka Farms in Irvine and had a great time!

"WOW.  Mom's going to pig out tonight!" - a father who is picking vegetables with his wife and son.

Careful lady, you may get really unhealthy habits by eating vegetables.

When It's Ruined

I consider myself to have child-like qualities. I love print socks, capri suns, the Little Mermaid, and I still think that stuffed animals are real. You don't? Just read Corduroy and you will be convinced too.

But, I have to get something off my chest that I am sad about. There are people who have ruined cartoon characters for me. I can't stand it. I do not want to know about any lame producer that thought it would be funny to write nasty words in the middle of Disney movies nor do I want to know what the people who do the voices do in real life. It ruins it!!! And frankly, I feel like I have been traumatized to some degree.

When I was really little, my sister once told me that Goofy was a drunk driver.

First of all, what does that even mean? Goofy is an actual person who drinks alcohol on a regular basis? That if I were a police man in the state of California or Florida I may run into Goofy during a night shift at the local bar?

Or does this mean that the person who is playing Goofy, all dressed up is drunk? Is that why he laughs like such a fool and sort of walks all slumped over? Perhaps it's not that he is so tall and has to lean over to talk with his other friends who are so short, but in fact he is stumbling home from the bar.

I mean this is what goes through my head now when I see that long-eared (what is he, a dog!?!), bucked toothed, overall wearing animal at Disneyland. I am disgusted with his choices. Come on, Goofy, you are supposed to be some sort of role model.

Now we know why they are not serving Margaritas or Cosmopolitans at the Happiest Place on Earth. Someone would be caught drooling for reasons that Walt would not like to admit.

Got Milk?

Milk was a staple for me growing up. Everyday after school I had a tall glass of cold, whole milk and loved every single gulp. I love chocolate milk, I love to dip cookies in it, make milk shakes, milk baths (well I've never had one, but I think that I would like it), and milk in my coffee. However, what I do not appreciate is everyone who is running around and making me weird and grossed out by milk. You ruining it for me! "Who are these people?" you may ask. PETA for one. Yes, the animal rights group. They recently put out a formal request to Ben and Jerry's asking if they would please stop using cow's milk (to "give the cow a break"), and start using human breast milk.

human.breast.milk.

I really, really wish that I was kidding. In the report, which you can read here, they are quoted saying that "breast is best" and thus, I should really be consuming breast milk mixed with caramel and peanut butter, all frozen to perfection while I'm sitting on my couch watching the rain or getting over a bad day. Please can I do that? I literally am almost throwing up in my mouth. Is anyone else totally grossed out by this? And what does "breast is best" even mean? According to who? I guess this brings me to another misunderstanding I have about life. What is the big deal about boobs?! They are fat that just sits there, and frankly, people act appalled by it anywhere else on the body, so how come two random spots on the middle of someone's chest are so appealing? And, your mom, grandma, and every other girl that you have ever known has them. So, please please tell me what the big deal is. Furthermore, I am pretty sure, that people (majority men) who are going around saying "breast is best", are not thinking that they are consuming it's natural fluids in ice cream. If they even remembered that milk comes out of those, I think they would loose some of the appeal. So PETA maybe this is actually a hidden way to stop people from looking at so much porn, or grabbing people's boobs on the streets. If so, then I understand your true intentions. But, I have see you in action, and the way you yelled at me with signs that had puppies on them in Times Sqaure, makes me worried that you are serious about this statement. I am really hoping that pictures of boobs and cows and any combination of the two do not show up at your next picket line.



The second person who is really destroying my love for milk, is this guy. He insists that soy milk will make a child gay. I can not even begin to comment on this. He says that giving a kid soy milk is the equivalent to taking two birth control pills. I would like to personally thank him for this information. Because now that I know, I will stop taking my birth control pills and I will drink a half cup of soy every morning. But, Sir? Will you foot the bill for the diapers, clothes, food and college of the baby that will be born out of your soy milk birth control method? Just let me know where to send the invoice.

When Fiction Has Too Much Say

The librarian in me that has been passed down by my mother, has learned from far too many ridiculous mistakes to never, ever under any circumstances judge a book by it's cover. Never. For example, the Bible's cover was hideous.  What if we never picked it up, because we did not know what that book was about and we saw the cover and ran?  No good. Now, we have a Bible for every occasion (Precious Moments, Young Adult, Women's, Men's, College Student's) completed with assorted colors, scratch and sniff pages, and hypercolor covers. (This is used, of course, as means to monitor your spiritual growth.  Is your Bible cover only one color?  Then your sweaty palms have not been glued to your Bible for hours of diligent studying.  Ok, I made that up.)  

But, I must confess that today I did something that I think the "wine librarian" would be so incredibly disappointed in.  In fact, I am almost certain he or she would shake their head at me mumbling: "amateur".  

No, I did not just buy a bottle because it had the prettiest label. Nor did I buy it because the wine was pink and I decorate everything with pink.  No, I am not that much of a rookie.  

I choose my wine because the label looked like and reminded me of one of my favorite books.  

I am embarrassed to admit that the chosen wine was:

based on:  

It is still corked sitting my kitchen waiting for me to swirl it nicely in my blue wine glasses but according to the reviews, I should never, ever take a sip.

Because I could care less if you are laughing at my wine choice, but I care incredibly much if you are laughing at my book choice,  I must defend the Twilight Saga. The books are anything BUT similar to the review of the wine; in fact it's the exact opposite: "full, with everything as notable and memorable."  Obviously, if it's enough to control my beverage choices.

If I Made You Switch...

It's true.  I have maybe, perhaps, guilted you into drinking tea if we went out to "coffee" and I agreed with you about how wonderful the Pumpkin Spice Latte is, how I just die for a Soy Cappuccino (I do get this, I confess. But decaf.) and how the holiday drinks are too much for my addiction and then just as you were about to consume your first sip, I rudely rattled off my statistics to you about the benefits of tea and then the not so good benefits of coffee.  I am sorry.  It's in your best interest.  

To make up for it, I am directing you to Mama Manifesto.  They are giving away, courtesy of Honest Tea, a free case of kids honest tea!  

What is that?  I added injury to insult by taking away your favorite drink and now calling you a kid? Nope.  It's just that when we are addicted and want to change our ways, we must take baby steps...