andie in the arctic.

happy monday, everyone, and greetings from the land of my birth. i arrived in buffalo on saturday evening and it has not stopped snowing since my little plane desceneded from the clouds. not that anyone is particularly surprised. during winter, snow in buffalo is like a cherry on the top of a sundae. it'd just be weird without it. and all of you i'm sure will be pleased to know that after many weeks of gloating because of my superior desert climate, i am now shivering my ass off in the northeast. i am also grossly underprepared in terms of outerwear and footwear, but we'll get to that catastrophe in due time. my father has had to use his snowblow an excessive number of times since the beginning of the season, but despite of all his ferocious complaining, i truly believe there is some part of him that enjoys this activity.




my dad in his snowblowing glory. take that, snow!


as mentioned, i arrived here on saturday evening and began this part of my vacation by having a reunion with my dog, fuggles. i don't think i've mentioned fuggles too much during my chronicles, so allow me take a few minutes to introduce this behemoth of love, my mushy mastadon. as most of you know after readnig a certain post in october, our beloved childhood canine companion, bandit, left us in the summer of 2003. after much contemplation, and about a year and a half of allowing ourselves to grieve our bandit, we decided we were ready to adopt another furry baby into our home. so in december of 2004, my family adopted a 7 month old Chinook mix named fuggles. and no, we did not name him fuggles. we're not that mean. he came to us with the unique moniker already applied and it wasn't going anywhere. fuggles' coat is a very distinct reddish color that is very similar to a type of hops used in beer making. his original owner noticed this coincidence and bestowed the name fuggles onto him.




my fugglebear and my "brother" rob


and don't get me wrong, it's not like we just accepted the name fuggles without putting up at least a little bit of a fight. he has the face of a baby bear, so my father suggested we try to change his name to bear. and we tried! but fuggles said no. he would answer to nothing but fuggles. and hey, i don't blame him. it sets him apart from all those "buddy's" and "bandit's" and "rover's" out there. fuggles was very nervous around my father at first, because he had been badly abused by a man in his early puppyhood, but fugs and i bonded immediately. despite being a snow dog and weighing nearly one hundred pounds, fuggles truly believes he is a lap dog and wants to cuddle at every opportunity. he is a very happy, silly dog who expresses his happiness in the form of vocalizations somewhere in between a whine and bark that i call "dog singing."

as mentioned, we welcomed fuggy into our lives during my college career, so for his entire life, he has known me to be in and out of the house at various intervals. which has actually worked out rather well, because he never really shows any type of resentment or bitterness, like bandit used to display towards my brother. the andie/fuggles reunion goes something like this. fuggles will hear the car door shut outside and begin barking, as is customary with our canine friends. before i enter the house, or he can see me, i usually call out to him. and once he recognizes my voice, he starts singing, very loudly. he then lovingly attacks me when i walk through the door, which forms a gauntless of sorts, wedging me between the stairs, wall, my luggage and a very excited, giant dog who is doing everything he can to jump on me, licking me no less than 300 times before i can even take my shoes off. next, he has to get his favorite toy and show it to me. this time it was a stuffed squirrell that he has viciously ripped all the stuffing out of, but in the past it has been bones, a stuffed chicken, a ball, etc. we then spend a good amount of time cuddling.

fuggles and his "cousin", buddy

i spent a great day with my dad yesterday. my father and i have a tradition of going christmas shopping very late in the season. we've been known to venture out on the 24th to get "a few last things". the ironic part about this is that neither of us are big fans of people or crowds, so you'd think that we would avoid the store during the last week before christmas like the plague. but there we are, shoving our way through department stores and grumbling about "all these damn people." but we always have a wonderful time together. i received one of my christmas gifts early, in the form of being taken shopping for an outfit. and i have to admit, winter friends, that i did get quite a chuckle when i noticed how out of place my father seemed in a young woman's clothing store. i was very thankful i have a dad who loves me enough to endure the mindless chatter of young women, the pulsating techno music that they always seem to play in those store and the intense indecisiveness his daughter was stuck with when it came to selecting a pair of pants.

the universe  was good to me on sunday evening and i had to opportunity to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra play in downtown buffalo. My cousins had received tickets as a gift for them and their boyfriends (i feel strange calling someone a boyfriend after the age of about 25... the word boyfriend in my head conjures up an image of an angsty 17 year old boy in skinny jeans and stupid hair, trying to avoid the girls' father, while they figure out a way to sneak up to her bedroom......  )... anyway, my cousin katie's "manfriend" ( i guess that's better...?) wasn't able to go so i became her date instead. and woohoo! it was such a good time.

for those of you who are unfamiliar with the trans siberian orchestra, they provide an amazing synergy between rock and classical music. they use several extremely talented guitarists who rock super hard with a signficant string section backing them up which adds depth and complexity to the music. they also put on a hell of a show. i'm very fortunate that i am not at all prone to seizures because i have not been that overstimulated in quite some time. lasers! smoke machines! video screens! moving catwalks! fire! holy crap! so much to look at.

the trans siberian orchestra gained some mainstraim notoriety with some beautifully ass kicking renditions of christmas songs. check out their version of greensleeves, it will rock your face off. and can i just say, i find this super intense christmas music to be hilarious. the fact that these long haired rock star dudes are head banging, violently, to songs about santa gave me the giggles like nothing i had ever experienced. to see a full grown man in leather pants, on his knees, squealing out amazing guitar solos in the middle of joy to world, while fire erupted in the background is about the funniest thing ever. i expected santa claus to come running out in the middle of the stage and start ripping his suit in half with his bare hands circa 1989 hulk hogan. the only thing that could have made this christmas music more intense was if they let live polar bears loose on the audience and announced that certain sections of the stadium had raw meat under their seats. woo christmas!!!!

i haven't laughed that hard in a long time. and i'll keep stating this throughout this particular literay masterpiece, friends, that this band was musically amazing and their show was one of the most entertaining expereinces that i have attended in quite some time. but just the thought of christmas being so hardcore is priceless to me.

my cousins also decided to park several blocks away from the arena as to avoid traffic and the nonesense of paying to park. and might i just remind you, how much snow is currently in buffalo. since my relocation to the great southwest, i have found myself with belongings spread over a large part of the country. and, insert laughter here, unfortunately, most of my winter outerwear and footwear is residing on long island. so, i decided i wanted to look cute for the concert last night, donning some brand new skinny jeans and a cute grey shirt. unfortunately for andiepants, all of my boots are on long island. the only footwear that i had with me, that was able to stand up to the six inches of snow, slush and ice that we strode across... was my hiking boots. please, everyone, take just a minute to imagine me, striding across downtown buffalo with my skinny jeans tucked into super hardcore high ankled hiking boots. sigh.

to make matters worse, i also do not have a winter coat with me, so i was wearing my mothers, which did not fit and caused me to look like a rectangle. in order to make sure my ears and face did not freeze and crack in half, i donned my snow hat, which has a poof ball on the top and two hanging from each ear flap. not the most classy look, but i dig it. so, just to summarize my outfit in its entirety, we had super crazy hiking boots, with skinny tucked in, rectangle coat and poof ball hat. i looked like a street urchin. i really did. it looked like my cousins were participating in some agency goodwill fundraiser, entitled "take a homeless person to a concert." its a good thing i don't embarrass easily.

unfortunately, i awoke this morning with a bit of a cold, but such is life and i am taking this opportunity to relax on my couch, watch tv and cuddle with my dog.

oh, and p.s., i miss comments. so if the spirit moves you, say hello!

be happy and be thankful during this holiday season,
andie.

californication

Good evening friends! I apologize to most of you who must be freezing tonight. The universe has apparently decided to sink most of the country into a deep freeze, complete with feet and feet of snow.... except new mexico. we are snow free and are consistently hitting the mid 60's in the middle of the day. I'd like everyone to take a moment now to silently express their hatred toward me and my super awesome climate....... 

... and we're done. This evening the andie-brain has decided to finally write about my adventures to los angeles. To be completely honest, I really wasn’t looking forward to going to LA. I was actually pretty nervous about it, my anxiety stirring and revving its little anxious engine at just the thought of the metropolis. For all of autumn 2010, I have been marooned in my little desert existence, with miles and miles and miles of open space. For the past three months, I have been residing in a community that has fewer residents than my high school. Can we just take a moment and think about it? And New Mexico at large only has one million people inhabiting it, whereas LA and its surrounding areas comprise nearly 9 million people. You might bring up the point that I had previously lived on Long Island for 3 years, with its NYC overflow, comprising of traffic, more 24 hour convenience stores than I could ever hope for, and a sea of humanity. But since moving away from the island, I’ve grown accustomed to my tiny town, the quietness, the stillness, the familiarity of the people, the lackadaisical nature in which everyone conducts their business. As I was preparing to embark on this journey to California, I was worried about overstimulating my newly rurally adjusted senses.

As I snuggled my andie-butt into the much too small plane seat (or would it be a much too large andie-butt? Questions to ponder..), I heard the pilots fast-food-restuaruant-drive-thru-esqe voice rumble through the plane. I could make out no other words but “initial descent”, but that was all I needed to hear. I pressed the andie-face up to the window to see what I was getting myself into. My eyes took in a vast stretch of lights, houses and business and cars and streetlamps all proudly proclaiming their existence. After a brief moment of darkness, I witnessed another giant swatch of lights. Then another and another. Soon enough there were so many lights that I was not able to see where they ended. Uh oh. Toto we are definitely not in Kansas anymore.

Once on the ground, I immediately made my way to a coffee dispensing station (hint number 1 that I was in LA: I encountered three Starbucks from my gate to the bathroom) and obtained a nice hot cup of chamomile tea. This is my initial defense against the anxiety monster. After fixing myself a cup of tea every time I become upset or stressed, the andie-mind has been conditioned to relax with the introduction of this fragrant drink. However, this proved to be a big mistake as it is exceedingly difficult to maneuver a giant suitcase, hot tea and talk on the phone to the person that is picking you up at the same time. Approximately 20% of my delicious beverage ended up on my hand, shirt, and the floor. That, friends, is how my California journey began.

But fear not, it got better. I was able to locate our gracious and generous hostess Jenna as she pulled up to the airports overcrowded and incredibly irritable pick up line (I almost forgot what horns sounded like). I credit Jenna’s unique style of layering, outer wear and super awesome brown driving gloves for making it possible for me to locate her amidst all the vehicular irritability. She spirited me away through the monstrosity that is LA, educating me about all of the different neighborhoods and providing me with interesting tidbits about some. For example, I had the opportunity to drive through the intersection where the notorious BIG was killed (rip biggie).

We arrived at her apartment before another east coast/west coast war could erupt, spotting evan and mike. They had been patiently waiting for us in Howie the Hyundai with their good friend, whiskey. We piled into Jenna’s lovely and cozy apartment, reuniting for a time before we had a slumber party. Jenna’s studio apartment, which before had been arranged to suit its sole occupant, underwent a transformation and became a bedroom for the four of us. Yep, we all slept in one room, with mike and I generously being given Jenna’s bed and ev and jenna sleeping on the couches. Sleeping in one room had its ups and downs. Being in the same room as two expert snore-ers was challenging. I had to alternate between kicking mike and throwing pillows at evan. At one point, I walked over and attempted to roll Evan over to halt the symphony coming from his face. This proved to be harder than it looked and I was defeated. I shuffled back to bed and scowled at him for a while. Less effective, but it made me feel a bit better.

On Thursday, the apartment was bustling with holiday activity with the preparations for our Friendsgiving feast. Each one of us had our task and we somehow completed it without tripping over or killing each other in Jenna’s kitchen. I made the best salad in the entire world (not that I’m biased), Mike regaled our taste buds with his stuffed mushrooms, Ev made a delicious concoction involving veggies and Jenna tackled the main event. She appeared to experience the full range of human emotion (fear, acceptance, happiness, disgust, etc) as she prepared the unlucky bird. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of delicious foods, wine, new people and of course, the conclusion to every Thanksgiving feast, the post-turkey coma.

Friday just happened to be my almost-husbands 28^th birthday. We referred to him as “birthday cagg” for the entire day and carried out his birthday requests all day.  We started by locating a pizzeria and I had the opportunity to watch mike inhale the slice in its entirety. I'm not sure he chewed once. It’s been quite some time since he has had quality pizza, and if you know Mike, you know about his love for pizza. Let’s put it this way, if it were legal to marry food objects, I highly doubt that I would have this ring on my finger. This lovely piece of jewelry would probably be nestled between a pepperoni chunk and some cheese. Mmmmm pepperoni….

Anyway ! we then made our way to Venice Beach where we spent the remainder of the day enjoying the sunshine, watching the skaters at an outdoor skate park, talking about purchasing beautiful houses on the beach and encountering some pretty interesting people. One man was selling his rap CD’s on the boardwalk and he remarked that I looked like “a young Jodie Foster.” Does anyone else see it? I don’t really. I’ve gotten Lisa Loeb before, but not Jodie.

Prior to embarking on my California journey, I had made the decision to add to my tattoo while there. Yes, readers, I know. It seems like everyone who comes to LA gets a tattoo. The climate and the experience of being vacation climbs into our heads and causes us to throw caution to the wind and pierce ourselves with needles. now thats what i call a relaxing vacation. But I had an alternate motive for making this decision. Lets revisit the point that I live in a rural community consisting of 1500 people. My options for quality tattoo artist in my hometown is incredibly limited, and unless I wanted a misshapen heart with “moom” in the middle, I didn’t think I would get what I was looking for. 

The original flowers that i had done in 2007

I made the appointment for 11am, so that it could be done and out of the way fairly early (I attempted to make the appointment for 10am, but the artist looked at me as if I had just suggested electing a unicorn for president, and I took that facial expression to mean that 10am was much too early). We arrived at the studio at 11:01 (I’m very punctual when I’m nervous) to find the studio unopened with the bars remaining down. Crap! Mike and I made our way to subway, where I projected my nerves onto him and snapped at him over pointless things like bottled water. I am continually grateful that this man is marrying me. At about 11:15am, we went back to the studio to find it ready and raring to go. After some sketching and placement and last minute conversation, I was placed on the table ready to go. And damn! I forgot how much that hurt! I’m not sure if the andie-brain blocked out the experience of my first tattoo but it felt like it hurt much worse this time around. And don’t get me wrong, my tattoo artist, Andreas (ironic, right?) was incredibly skilled, well matured and efficient, completing my tattoo in just under 45 minutes with beautiful results.

But ow! There were a few moments when I contemplated getting up off the table and walking away, half finished tattoo and all. Maybe I could have drawn the rest on with Sharpie, who knows. Once the outline was completed, the shading and coloring hurt much less. I was able to relax a bit, loosen the death grip I had on Mike’s hand and even permit him to go eat breakfast my art was finished. After 12 days, my lily is almost completely healed and I am very very happy with it. It seems as though I acquire a new flower after every major event in my life, and this lily is an ode to my years in grad school and on long island. welcome, new lily. 

new flower friend.

Saturday afternoon found us at a sushi restaurant, inhaling some of the most delicious fish that has ever swam in the sea. Sushi is yet another delicacy that new mexico apparently does not believe in, and we have been going through some serious aquatic cuisine withdrawal. Mike and I made the decision to leave LA on saturday evening as opposed to doing the entire drive in one day, which proved to be the right decision, as we encountered some serious snow in the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico. 

In closing, I had a fantastic time in Los Angeles. It is a place that I have always wanted to experience, but for vacation only. i think andie-pants is better to suited to reside in a different locale. maybe i've been immersed in rural USA for too long, maybe i'm reconnecting with my small(ish) town roots, maybe I just don't like guys in tight pants. even still, i'm thankful for my experience there, and especially for our wonderful friends who took the time to entertain us.

have a lovely evening and be thankful, 

andie.

protests and pat downs.

Hello friends. Happy December. My intentions were to write about my los angeles adventures, but to be honest with you, i never really know what's going to come out until it's splattered onto this blog page, like those poor crash test dummies who so courageously sacrificed themselves so that we could have safer cars (thanks, guys!). so instead of words about lalaland, these are the andie-thoughts that decided to make their presence known.....

After I was viciously pried away from little b (didn’t I just write a piece about using overly dramatic wording? Sigh, the journey continues.. ), I boarded an airplane to whisk me away to LA. And before I proceed, I need to say a just a few words (ha! If you’ve read even one entry of my blog, you know I’m not a fan of brevity)…. Ok, so I’m going to say many words regarding this airport security/personal rights trampling/molestation/brain cancer inducing/terrorist lurking/fear mongering rampage that the media has so suspiciously launched right before the travel season.

Don’t get me wrong, friends, I’m all for personal rights and such. But I am also very strongly opposed to being blown up into tiny little andie-bits at 30,000 feet by some misguided religious fanatic. So. Like most gigantic messy problems, in order to be successful and resolve said conundrum, a compromise must be reached. And like most “hot topics” (think abortion, death penalty, gun control, lady gaga, etc), you have opposing groups of people who are viciously attacking one another. Isn’t America fun?  One group hurls the term “liberal” around like it’s synonymous with child rapist. The other accuses their opponents as supporters of a police state and hide behind battle cries for personal freedom. And as for me? I oppose both of them. I know, I know. How boring. I might as well change my favorite color to beige and start the rest of my sentences with “well, I agree with both of you but…”. To some, there is nothing more annoying than a moderate, a fence sitter, a person who agrees with certain points of both platforms. And if this describes you, please close your internet window now. Because this is my blog, and I get to write whatever I want. Take that.

But I am in the middle on this one. So I have some thoughts to express. Who’s surprised? No one. To the “don’t touch my junk” dude: get real and get over yourself. I have a feeling that the TSA has better things to do than fondle some hairy, sweaty, irritable dude’s balls. Same goes for all of the people who are convinced that the “death inducing xray super crazy terrible machines” are going to produce naked pictures of them which the TSA employees will then reproduce, put on the internet, send to their buddies, put in their wallets, send to their mom’s, sell on e bay, make a shrine, insert more ridiculous and idiotic ideas here, etc etc etc. stop it!

Further, I highly doubt that the radiation exposure caused by one or two trips through these machines will be a death sentence. This same person who is apparently afflicted with verbal diarrhea regarding the “life threatening” xray machines at the airports probably goes home, smokes a pack a day, drinks four beers at a clip and would only run a mile if being chased by bears. I would worry more about your lungs, liver and heart, friend, before you worry about the tumor that isn’t in your brain.

On the other hand, I in no way believe that the actions of a few misguided fanatics should give the TSA free reign to do as they please. I believe that most of the current TSA employees have this disastrous inverse relationship between power and intelligence, specifically, too much power and too little intelligence. Ah! This is terrible combination that rapidly breeds resentment, hostility, mistrust, etc. But be excited, dear readers, because I have some andie-ideas for how we could rectify this

One such idea is that we need to make the TSA a respectable position and we do this by increasing the amount of education needed for this occupation. No, they do not have to have a PhD in metal detection, a doctorate in pat downs, a masters in “put your shit in the bin.” But I think people have such a strong negative reaction to them because in most cases, they have fewer brain cells than the machines they operate. People don’t respect stupidity. And they respect rude, power inflated, morons even less. The TSA needs to seriously work on its people skills. Hold some trainings, seminars, speed dating, do whatever you need to do. Just learn how to speak to people without yelling or sounding like an asshole.

The original idea behind the TSA, making our airports and flights a safer place/experience, is much too important a responsibility to leave to bored, apathetic, irritable people. And that is what we’re cultivating in this current climate of minimum wage earning workers. Does anyone else find it mildly terrifying that the person in charge of making sure my plane doesn’t explode gets paid less than the average home depot worker? I do! My point is this, the TSA needs a serious overhaul, involving more training, more education and as a result, higher wages to attract quality workers, who are actually invested in the duty they are performing.

No matter what side of the proverbial political line you fall on, be it Rush Limbaugh-adoring-conservative, or tree-hugging-liberal, I think everyone can agree that in the world that we are living in, national security, including some measures at airports are necessary. But people, we need to have balance. I’ve grown very fond of the concept of balance and applying it to my life in recent years and I believe that I have benefited greatly because of it. I truly believe that exercising and instilling the practice of balance in most instances will yield positive results.

and in the interest of balance, this tired andie-pants needs a hot cup of tea and some cuddles with her almost-husband. 

stay tuned, dear readers. i'll promise that eventually i'll coax my brain into producing something about my la trip, because it was a wonderful, relaxing, invigorating vacation filled with new experiences and reunions with beloved friends.

be thankful and be happy,
andie. 

baby love.

hey friends! sorry about deserting you for the past ten days and my lack of blogging, but i found it incredibly difficult to pull myself away from the newest member of my family to write. and it's very hard to type while holding an 8 week old baby. shocking, i know.

so. i've heard friends and family members who have kids state that the moment their eyes fell upon their baby they were instantly in love. and i always thought that was kind of a load of crap. i mean, sorry, i know its terrible, but i did. how can you love someone immediately? you don't know this person. and especially with babies, they're crying and red and covered in goo. they look like squalling aliens sent down to terrorize earth with their tiny hands and enormous wind pipes. instantaneous love, indeed.

and then i met my nephew. i hopped into the back of my brother and sister in law suv on a very frosty st louis evening and i looked into the carseat at his cute little face and i fell in love. i spent the next 30 minutes staring at him in the dark car on the drive home. courtney was nice enough to turn the dome light on after a few minutes and i got to study his precious little face. i felt my insides turning to mush as i recognized my brothers eyes and forehead on this tiny little being. i now have to rescind all of my private chortling about the "silly magical instantaneous baby love" that people feel for the tiniest residents of earth. woops.

hi brendan, i'm aunt andie. i will cuddle you now.

baby brendan and i spent the next four days getting to know each other. i discovered that he enjoys napping, preferably while laying on my chest. he is also a big fan of milk and will take down bottles like a champ. this might explain why he is an 8 week old baby in six month old clothes. following this, he enters a milk coma and more napping ensues. we played together on his activity mat, and he did his little baby dance to the music.

activity mat!

aunt andie was given a crash course in changing diapers of little boys and just barely escaped being peed on. my nephew currently has the funniest hair i've ever seen. his parents are two of the whitest people on earth, so we knew he would be nearly translucent, and he has a cap of blondish hair. his hair is fairly short and fuzzy except for a swatch that runs the back of his head, which is about two inches in length, and i swear to god, looks like a mustache. i'm fairly certain that brendan is the youngest person alive with a mullet, business on top, and party in the back, friends.

how funny is this baby mullet?

brendan enjoyed his first "friendsgiving" on sunday night when dan and courtney had a few of their friends over for a holiday dinner. he tolerated the crowd pretty well, but loudly voiced his displeasure toward the end of the evening. baby b and aunt pants escaped into his little baby room to go chill out.

on tuesday, brendan attended his first hockey game and watched his father assist his team in winning a semi finals game in their league, advancing them to the finals. go dad! we had not anticipated how frigid the rink would be and decided to swaddle the little dude in several blankets. soon enough, our little man looked like the baby jesus, all wrapped up in various cloths.

baby jesus

and aside from the cute overload that was my nephew, i so enjoyed watching my brother play hockey. it was the first time i had seen him play in about 12 years. now, friends, this is pretty significant, because andiepants was pretty much raised in a hockey rink. to be fair, i was nearly born in a hockey rink. i believe my incredibly pregnant mother attended a game on november 4th and i was born a mere two days later. you see, my father worked second shift most of my childhood, and so in the evenings, between the ages of birth and about 12, i would accompany my mother and brother to various hockey events. practices, games, you name it, i was there. its a shame i'm horrible at ice skating; i know the game of hockey so well i could have been a little phenom. watch out sidney crosby, andiepants is coming for you (hockey fans, insert laugh here).

i used to entertain myself by playing in the dirty spaces behind the stands, discovering little holes in the wall (literally) between the two ice rinks, and making friends with the other siblings of hockey players. i also became incredibly awesome at the arcade games at the rink, such as dome hockey (try and beat me, i dare you) and mortal combat, versions 1 and 2 (mileena and kitana were my favorites characters, i'm a girl, don't judge me).

so you can imagine, friends, how nostalgic i became while watching danny play hockey. and he still plays pretty damn good for an old man (ha!). following the game, dan and i had some brother/seester time and he took me to one of the classiest establishments in the st louis area, the vfw. yes, not only did my brother take me to the v, but this is not the first v he's taken me to. not that i'm complaining. i love the v! sometimes it's a bit weird being the only female in the crowd under the age 50 and weighing less than 300 pounds. i get stared at like a unicorn with boobs. but hey, i had my big brother there to protect me, and for $1.50 beers, its almost worth it.

on wednesday morning, i accompanied the family little b's 2 month check up at the doctor and yes, i did tear up when he got shots in his fat little thigh. ah! the agony! but seriously, imagine being a baby, a tiny little baby, and everythings fine and good and cool, and you're looking around this bright room and theres your mom and your dad and aunt looking at you, and this nice lady doctor comes in and plays with you, and makes faces at you and tells you how cute you are and then mom comes up close in your face and then boom! needles! in your leg! you don't even know what needles are! and where the hell is your leg? what the hell is this! oy. poor little dude.

back to the point, i had a fantastic time in st louis with my family and was really considering calling mike and letting him know that i was canning my california trip so i could stay with my tiny little love muffin. but eventually, they pried me away from the baby and i boarded the plane to los angeles. and that my friends, its a tale for another evening.

enjoy and be thankful for your last november 2010 night,
andie.

saturday in the sky.

Hey friends! Happy Monday! and yes, it is a super happy monday, because andiepants is on vacation. mmmmmm vacation. I'm traveling this week and since i don't have a laptop that has wireless internet (great christmas gift by the way... or belated andie-birthday gift.... thanksgiving-gift, etc... you get the idea), i've been carrying around one of my favorite notebooks and blogging the oldschool way. but since i can't just hold up my notebook and have all of you fine people read it, i'll be transcribing and backdating posts.
such as this lil gem that andiebrain thought up on saturday... enjoy!


Saturday November 20th, 2pm, plane in albuquerque
hola, i'm at the airport and just boarded the plane that's going to take me to see my precious lil Brendan-face. i was lucky enough to score a nice little window seat and i'm ready to sit back and enjoy my one and a half hours to Dallas (layover)....
well, not exactly. i've been working on my flight anxiety for a while now, but it still hangs out with me on plane rides. icky. i really can't put my finger on exactly what scares me about flying. of course, the whole 'dying in a horrible fiery plane crash' factors in, but i'm not convinced thats the whole shebang. i think what happened is that i had a horrible flight experience (which I will not detail here, but suffice to say, we landed fairly close to a big tornado in chicago. ah!) and now andie-body is conditioned to become anxious and scared everytime andie-butt touches a plane seat. as soon as i snuggle in 19f, i get the jitters, the heart starts racing, i get a bit shakey and slight nauseaus. super lame, indeed.


but! i'm stuffing myself into this metal tube thats about to flying through the air for the purposes of meeting mr. brendan thomas wright for the first time. ahhhh sweet baby! i'm so excited. so this is totally worth it....


Saturday November 20th, time unknown. several thousand feet in the air
::disclaimer... in my attempts to beat the anxiety monster, i decided to journal during the part that scares me the most, taking off. here's how it went... ::


taking off and scared. very scared. this is my least favorite part. the stomach jumps, the plane shimmies back and forth as we hurtle toward our chosen elevation. ahhhhhhhh. i think i'm making the nice young man sitting next to me very nervous as i clench my arm rest tight enough to break it, while my eyes roll wildly around in my head like a trusting cow being led to mcdonalds.
i hate turbulence. i hate it. and don't tell me that it's like air potholes.. its not! not when you're up this high. every bump has me convinced that this will be the bump, the shimmy, the rattle and roll that sends this bad boy down in a pile of flames. f turbulence! every time we ascend higher, my stomach takes leave of my body, and my heart finds sanctuary in my throat. why can't i just chill out? i hate hating flying....


Saturday November 20th, time still unknown, i should get a watch..., somewhere over New Mexico  
ok. we're beginning to level out and flying over some fo the most beautiful terrain i have ever seen in my life. mountains and desert as far as i can see. lush green rolling hills combine to make soft rounded mountains. and stretching out in every direction, for what seems like eternity is the desert. this is the part of flying i enjoy. and,.. that would be motion sickness setting in. be back later.




Saturday November 20th, 6pm, Dallas Fort Worth Airport, laying over.
in dallas for a layover, which seems like such a waste of time 'hey, flier, i know that you've spent a whole lot of money on this trip, and you're cranky and tired and hungry and probably anxious about launching yourself 30 thousand feet in the air, but i'm gonna need you to take a few hours and sit at this other airport for a little while, it might be on the way, it might not, but it works out better for us, so thanks.' 
jerks. 


and in my uncomfortable little seat in the terminal i'm surrounded by the funniest group of people ever witnessed. i'll try and provide you with a snapshot of my experience, clock-style: 
at 11- we have the sleeping Hispanic man who keeps waking himself up with his snorty snorts. in his excessively loud attempts to breathe while sleeping, he managed to annoy everyone around him. no bueno, senor. 


3-  the emo kid who keeps staring at me, especially as i eat my delicious caprese sandwich from au bon pain. creepy. maybe its because i wore my skinny pants today. kindred souls? i think not. they're jsut the most comfortable pants i own that i will also allow myself to be seen in public in. i think its the whole no zipper thing. anyway, sorry kid, i don't sit in my room at night listening to my chemical romance and being angsty.


1-super young navy boy in full dress uniform, complete with dress shoes so shiny i can see my reflection in them. he's adorable! for some reason i keep having this vision of him using a broom as a prop and sweeping to the beat of a show tune, as other sailors sing and dance in perfect choreography on the USS Fabulous. not to be offensive, and i'm not really sure where thats coming from, but there it is..


ugh. layovers.


Saturday November 20th, 6:45pm, tarmac
on the plane again.. sitting next to adorable year old babe. cutie! feelingless nervous this time around but we haven't started moving yet, so we'll see how it goes. can't wait to meet little b! i bought him a stuffed road runner as a gift. i was personally dissapointed to learn that they are neither purple nor animated. i'll just have to make sure i advise b to look out for anvils, and if spotted, find a coyote, fast. and here we go, plane is moving, so in the interest of perserving my caprese sandwich, notebook will be put away now.



and that's all for now friends,
enjoy your evening and be thankful,
andie.

andie 1, mountain 0.

Hola! Happy Sunday to everyone out there in internet-land. I don’t know about you, cozy Sunday night readers, but andiepants had an excellent weekend. It was the kind of weekend that feels really productive and also rejuvenates you at the same time. I have to admit, though, that more than once during this two-day mini vacation, I did feel like Frank the Tank as he was describing his weekend plans to his new college friends in the movie Old School. You remember the scene, I’m sure. But if not, let me remind you. It went a little something like this:

20 yr old college kid: “so frank, what are you doing this weekend?”

Frank the Tank: “well actually I gotta nice little weekend planned, gonna do some projects around the house, might go to home depot, I don’t know… I’m not sure  if we’ll have enough time..” [not the actual words, but you get the idea].

20 yr old college kid: …. No words…. Just gaping in horror at the thought that this is what he might become in 20 years.

That was mike and I this weekend. We kicked ass like never before on our personal “to do” lists (tangent coming up… who’s surprised? No one. By the way.. don’t you just love to do lists? I can’t get enough of them. I’m waiting for the day where I look down and see item #1 on my current to do list is “make to do list”…. Check. That will be when I recognize that I have a problem. Sometimes I think I love to do lists so much only because of the satisfaction I get from crossing off the items. Its like I’m personally insulting whatever it is I had to get done. Ha, take that, laundry!! I’ll show you whose boss, car insurance bill!! Your ass has been paid.. )

Back to the point, for those of you who are unaware, we are lucky enough to have a giant empty apartment here in the lovely southwest. I mean, yes, we have all the necessities.. bed, a couch, some stools for the island in the kitchen, etc.. but we need some ancillary furniture. You understand, a desk, a second couch, some bookshelves, blah blah blah. so every morning as andiepants had been driving to work, I had been hearing this advertisement stating that Furniture Mart was going out of business and that everything was on sale. Well, hot damn. Isn’t that convenient. Howie and I paid Furniture Mart a visit on Friday afternoon after work, expecting to find great things for us inside. Unfortunately, what we found inside was an overzealous toothless salesman who wouldn’t leave me alone long enough to actually look at anything. I spent the majority of the time I was in the store hiding behind large pieces of furniture so that he would stop badgering me. Ah! I hate that. Overzealous sales people. Leave me alone! Another thing that deeply bothered me was that none of the items had current prices on them. They just had the original sticker price with a giant X through it. Mr. No Teeth would catch me furtively glancing at a piece (I didn’t want to seem too interested in anything, and make him pounce on me again), saunter over, whip out a little calculator, punch in some numbers and declare “well, I could do this for you for [insert dollar amount here]”, like he was doing me some type of big personal favor. Thanks, Dentures. What is that about? Where did that number come from? And this got me thinking, I wonder what would make that number fluctuate. Think about it. Do you think this establishment is so organized that they have a structured equation by which he figures the price, or do you think he just types in some numbers (maybe spells “boobless” on the calculator… you remember doing that, I know you do. I did that all the time in math class. Still funny) just to seem like he’s doing something. Would the price have gone down if I flirted with him? I tried, but the vomit was rising too high in my throat, and if continued, I was worried I would have to consult a bathroom first. Conversely, would it have been a higher price if I were a dude? Questions of the universe.

I cant’ believe I wrote so long about Furniture Mart. Moving on. Suffice to say, I did not purchase anything there and only got out of Toothy McToothersons grasp by using that dreaded line “I have to check with my fiancé to see if I can buy anything.” The conservative men out here seem to respond well to that, as everyone out here knows women can’t do anything on their own. We made another attempt to furnish our new home on Saturday morning and were successful. We ended up purchasing some lovely items from a store right in Zozo by a woman that reminded us so much of Chop’s mother. She had thousands of random items packed in a warehouse, some in pristine condition, some in miserable disrepair. She would inevitably choose one of these sad souls, display it to us and declare “oh its no big deal, I can fix that, I have tools in the back, I can fix it right now, I used to do all the furniture repair all by myself in this whole place, you want to see some of my work, look at this desk, I put the legs back on..” all of this in a rambling, slightly manic rampage without taking a breath. Hey, it was better than No Teeth, so we ended up buying several pieces from her, but not before being introduced to her current boyfriend, her ex husband and being invited to her boyfriends birthday party next month. I found it particularly humorous that she made sure we understood that we had to keep the invitation and show it at the door in order to be admitted to the gathering. Is this really necessary? In a town with a population of approximately 1500 people, you’re concerned that you’re going to get outsiders coming to your party? Like people will just be driving down this obscure desert highway with its two Mexican food restaurants and three gas stations within 100 miles and think “oh wait, we should stop, I bet theres a party we can crash somewhere around here.” I’m just saying, there’s probably no reason to be strict about the invitations. Even still, I did have a minor cow when Mike threw it out today “NO! how are we going to get into Chaz’s party!?!?!”

At any rate, we spent the rest of our Saturday finding homes for our new pieces and rearranging things in the apartment. We are slowly but surely making it a lovely little home for the andie/cagg family. Then, we spent some time sanding and painting the guest fence. For all of you who are unaware, Mike and I built a fence… in our house. Come on, people. Only in new mexico. We needed a dividing wall for our guest room so that our visitors wouldn’t be creeped out by mike staring at them, so we built a six and a half foot fence to separate the guest bedroom. It is fully constructed, and had its inaugural usage when Chops and Melissa came to visit, but we haven’t yet decorated it. So we spent the evening sanding our fence, andiepants in her attempt to avoid slivers sanded her section of the fence in Mike’s mittens, ruining them in the process… whoops… who knew you couldn’t sand in mittens? At least I looked cute. After this, we painted each section a different color to correspond to our rainbow colored stairs. Happy stairs and happy fence. Seems to be a theme here in andie and cagg-land. We fell asleep to the skillful narration of David Attenborough as he led us through Blue Planet’s “Tidal” episode (if you are unaware of how much I love D. Attenborough, please refer to previous posts). 

Happy Fence!

Today brought an absolutely lovely day weather-wise. Oh, readers, I have to make mention of how much I am enjoying the climate here. Yes, we are reminded that it is the middle of November by our crisp mornings, which have been falling below freezing for the past few days. But in the afternoon, the desert sun takes the stage and catapults the temperature to about 65. woo hoo! We decided to capitalize on this beautiful Sunday and take a little stroll up a 10,000 foot mountain. Now, I must regress for just a minute, as I chronicle to you, oh sympathetic readers, how I was sorely misled.

On Friday evening, a new friend of ours stopped by to visit and while here, mentioned that he might want to go hiking this weekend. He had just been working out in the field for the majority of the week, and was feeling pretty tired, so he remarked that he would like to do something nice and easy and suggested hiking one of the peaks in our area, Nogal. He stated that it was only a 2 mi loop to the peak and that it might be a nice little afternoon excursion. This information sank into the andie-brain with a little plop. Hmm… 2 miles… I can do that… famous last words.

Fast forward to this afternoon. I suggest, hey mike why don’t we go do Nogal? It’s a beautiful day, we could use some exercise, etc etc. I couldn’t even get the sentence out of my mouth before Mike was strapping on his boots. He just heard the word “hiking” and became excited. The joy that crosses his face when he knows he is going hiking is incomparable to anything I’ve ever seen. It’s beautiful. He delightedly gets his hiking clothes on and starts filling up camelbacks and loading clif bars into our pack. I can just hear his thoughts rumbling around in mike-brain.. “hiking! She wants to go hiking! We better get going before she changes her mind! Hiking! Forest, hiking, mountains, hiking, etc etc etc.. “

Anyway, Happy Mike and I loaded up in Howie and took off up the mountain. We were lucky enough to have access to a road that got us fairly close to the summit. That’s the good news. The bad news is that this “road” and I use that term loosely, had me praying for my life with every turn. This dirt road was filled with huge rocks and holes large enough to swallow a tire or two. There were sharp switchbacks leading up the mountain, sandwiching Howie between a rocky mountain face and death. Oy. I spent the majority of the ride with my eyes clenched shut, repeating “I will not die on this mountain. I will not die on this mountain.” And this was before the hike even began.

We started off on a gentle incline, picking our way through a little forest carpeted with newly deceased leaves. The air was crisp, the sun was shining and my little hiking boots were moving andiepants swiftly toward her goal. And so it went, for about a quarter mile, until the trail abruptly went up. There’s no other way to describe it. It wasn’t “steep”, it wasn’t “difficult”, it was “up”. Crap. I didn’t sign up for “up”, but I decided to strap on my brave-pants on and continue. Soon “up” became even more difficult, if you can fathom it, and I found myself hauling andiepants up a mountain face using her hands and feet, gripping tree limbs and boulders to pull myself up to the next clearing. Ah! I thought this was an easy little day hike! Liar! Just to make things a bit more interesting, the trail was laden with evil little prickerbushythingies that kept stabbing me in the leg and gnarled tree limbs that we had to bob and weave around, like evander holyfield after a six pack. 

andiepants with Nogal in the background

a close up of our friend, Nogal.

I considered quitting… a few times.. .my legs were knotted up, my lungs were screaming and my heart felt like it was about to thump right out of the andiechest. But for some reason, I was determined that I was not going to let this damn mountain beat me. And I didn’t. it took me forever, but andiepants managed to haul her ass up 10,000 foot Nogal. And was rewarded by an amazing view. As I spun slowly in a circle, on top of the world, and took in the beauty around me, I had a thought. It felt like this experience paralleled real life in some ways. Some sections of the hike were manageable, relatively flat, or gently sloping, the trail leading us in the right direction at an easy, inviting pace. Parts of the hike were miserable, having to climb vertically up boulders, being stabbed in the leg by evil plants, and having to dodge old, angry trees. A few times I was terrified, convinced I was going to launch myself off of this mountain, or break my ankle, or have a heart attack and die…. Oh hypochrondriac andiepants. But as I pulled myself over that last crest and realized that everywhere I looked was down, that even though it was steep, and hard, and my legs hurt, and I had this toe cramp that bothered me the whole way, I did it. I didn’t let the damn mountain beat me and it was worth it. I guess what I got out of this afternoon is that life isn’t always going to be easy. Sometimes it will stick you in the leg and poke tiny holes in your favorite yoga pants with its little prickerbushythingies. But, as I discovered this afternoon, if you bust your ass and make a commitment to do something, no matter how hard it seems, it’ll get done. And it will be worth it. 

i made it!

Hey everyone, take a minute and pause from posting negative comments on facebook, worrying about all that crap you have to worry about, and check out my sweet little nephew. If this babys face doesn’t make you forget about all of the superfluous crap that’s going wrong in your life, that I’m fairly certain theres no hope for you. 

Be thankful and be happy!

Andie.

so long, twenty four.

Happy Monday! I start with a disclaimer. I had grand plans to blog on Friday and Saturday… for friday, I planned to chronicle my last day of twenty four, and provide a review on the past year of my life, and on saturday, share my thoughts on my birthday...the best laid plans, right?… I was swept away this past weekend by my fabulous fiancé and didn’t think it proper to pause in the middle of dinner and start blogging. excuse me, could we have a bigger table? i'm not sure i'm able to fit my laptop and steak on the same space. a bit rude, dont you think. So here we are on the monday after a blog-free weekend. a horror, indeed. so as to not exhaust your special eyes or brains, i've decided to bust up this literary behemoth into two parts. tonight, i'll address what should have been discussed on friday; my 24th year. stay posted for a subsequent post concerning my birthday activities. 

As some of you may know, I turned 25 this past Saturday. A whole quarter of a century of andie. Who should be so lucky? I am looking forward to this new year of my existence, but as always, before one can fully embrace the future and be ready to accept this next phase of life, one must turn backward and appreciate what has come before. So, I give to you, 24 in review.

Andiepants turned 24 on Friday, November 6^th 2009 and it was the first birthday where I was required to attend a full day of work that day. gross. further, I spent the morning of the day of my birth picking up and transporting a mattress and box spring for one of my client’s children. Friends, this was not how I envisioned spending my special day, however, I did feel good about the work I was doing. Previously, this 12 year old had been sharing a twin bed with her incredibly large mother, because they could not afford another bed, so anything I could do to help was fine by me. I ended up dropping the mattress on myself, scraping a large chunk of skin off my little foot and getting a very large and nasty birthday bruise. In the afternoon, I came back to my office to prepare for my 3pm “meeting” with my supervisor. Now, friends, Andiepants was convinced that this was not actually a supervision meeting, but a surprise birthday gathering. And I had reason to believe this, not just my because of my own abundant narcissism, but this was the running practice throughout the office. Many a surprise birthday celebration had been done this way, complete with cupcakes, fruit and office coffee. Plus, it was Friday afternoon and who doesn’t love a party on Friday afternoon? Three o’clock arrived, as it does every day, twice a day, I readied my papers, and strode into my supervisor’s office, already being able to taste the cupcakes and assorted fruit. I sat down into the chair across from my boss’s desk… and…….read her my case notes! It was really a supervision meeting! Crap! I spent the next hour discussing my caseload with my boss and being silently furious.

Once home, I relayed my disappointing story to Mike who couldn’t help but smile. It’s funny now, but then, I was very bummed. No matter! I had a party to prepare for! That night, I hosted “24’s for 24”, a celebration of my 24^th birthday complete with 24 oz cans of your favorite beverage. It was quite a success. Many friends came over to share the occasion with me and I felt loved and happy.

Twenty four continued to be a really great year for andiepants. I continued to settle into myself as an adult and naturally and happily shed my collegiate sorority girl partying persona for a more focused, mellow energy. This was the first year in which I had a full time job and actually began to make money! And believe me after counting pennies obsessively for most of my life, this came as a welcome change. Please don’t misunderstand, friends. I’m a social worker. I’m not exactly rolling in money here, but I was making enough that I didn’t have to constantly worry about every single dollar. happy times, indeed.

Twenty four also brought forth a battle of mine that I have struggled with all of my life, who has been a constant companion of mine, a continual burden on my secretly spontaneous and fun loving soul. I was deeply challenged in the winter of 2009-2010 by my anxiety disorder, which decided to not only rear its unwanted and obnoxious head, but to make my life somewhat difficult for approximately six months. Looking back, I am now appreciative of this situation, because it forced me to confront and address my anxiety, rather than just pushing it back down into the andie lock-box as I was so accustomed to. I had my first panic attack in October of 2009. As with all sufferers of anxiety and panic, I was blown away by the ferocity of my own mind. I have been trying to describe what a panic attack feels like to Mike since they began, and after nearly a year of trying, I fail to even come close to the terror that envelopes the sufferer, but I’ll again attempt to share with you, dear readers, about what my mind and body experienced.

Picture yourself driving along a road. It’s straight and flat at first, the sun is shining, your favorite music is on the radio, the birds are flying above and all is well in the world. Then, an intrusive thought pops your utopian bubble. crap. At first, your minds attempts to push down this petty worry, which is at first only as big as an annoying little bee buzzing around your positive attitude. You try to mentally swat it away, telling yourself that you’ll figure it out and not to worry too much. The little bee, who started out so cute, with its fuzzy little body and adorable antennae, becomes more aggressive and insistent, and before you know it, your tiny insect friend has become a rageful hornet, divebombing your face. You struggle onward on your little road, clamping down on this anxiety, but suddenly, the road which was once straight and peaceful, has developed a few small hills, and the clouds are gathering. The hornet antagonizes you once again, except this time, it’s a bit bigger, its buzzing is louder, its stinger is more pronounced and foreboding. Fear kicks in. Crap. This road is getting nasty, this hornet is getting huge. Suddenly, you’ve forgotten about the original worry, whatever that was, and are now overcome with fear. Rather than focusing on the source, the root of your discomfort, which is typically very manageable, you are now responding to the fear of fear, which, once you allow yourself to come to this point, is incredibly difficult to overcome. Your body responds instantaneously. The adrenaline kicks in, fast and hard, your heart is pounding away in your chest, causing dull chest pains to radiate through your chest neck and arms. Your breathing becomes uneven and forced, and as your body craves more oxygen, you start to feel dizzy and unsure of your footing. The stomach begins to turn in knots and fear, dark, murky, and overwhelming invades all of your senses. It is at this point that the hornet returns, approximately 900 feet tall, with a stinger the size of the empire state building, ready to tear your face off. It roars at you, as you desperately try to navigate the now treacherous road, filled with boulders, pot holes,  hair pin curves and coated in a slick sheet of ice. Your body is gripped in a terror that is palpable, the fear alarms going off incessantly, your heart pounding wildly and irregularly, your limbs shaky, your bladder about to unload itself, bathroom notwithstanding, and all you want to do is crawl into a hole and scream. It is at this point that you realize there is a very good possibility that you will die. Right here. That your heart will simply give out, the fear will eat you, there will be no one around to help you and that will, most definitely, die. Multiply the above paragraph by about 50 and that my friends, is a panic attack. 

I struggled on during winter and spring, trying to manage this internal monster, but having very limited success. The final straw came in June of 2010. I was conducting an individual therapy session with a 13 year old girl when all of the sudden, I felt the fear start to slide insidiously in. This had never happened at work before and before I knew it, I was in a full blown panic attack, with searing heat and pain at the center of my chest, shaking hands and legs, and a stomach that could have competed on the US gymnastics team. I invoked my fight or flight response and fled, right out of my sesion, lying and telling my client and her mother that i was in the throes of a migraine. this was one of my most embarrassing and defeating moments. 

but as with most crises, it spurred me to action. It has been almost six months since that time, and I am happy to report that I feel that I have a firm hold on my anxiety. I have worked my andie-ass off to get this under control and know that it will be an eternal process. Unfortunately, this is something that will never be cured, but can be managed so that it interferes with life no longer. 

in july 2010 i became engaged to my best friend and made the decision to move across the country with him and start a new chapter in this crazy comic book entitled "andie-life." this was really the final struggle of twenty four, summoning the courage and invoking the strength to relocate thousands of miles away from my family and friends, to concentrate on my life and the life i'm creating with my almost-husband.

at times, twenty four seemed like a very difficult year for me, but turned out to be one of the most productive years of my life, second only to those very early years of my life, when i learned how to walk, talk, doubled in size, and all of that other nonsense. The struggles endured during twenty four were necessary, as I now feel more comfortable in my own skin, imperfections and all, crooked teeth and freckle-mania, and have discovered a deep and persistent well of inner strength. and that, my friends, is the best birthday present i could ever receive. 

be thankful, 

andie.