let's turn that frown upside down

I've been dwelling quite a bit lately on all the crap not going my way. All the stuff that makes my days just a little too trying, a little too tough to get through without at least one heavy sigh. I need to take some time and focus on all that is working for me. Won't you join me? Maybe it'll spark something for you... like sending me money, that would be a great use of your time.

• Puppies. Soo they're a lot of work, and sometimes the instances when you see that work paying off are few and far between, but really my greatest concern about getting them was what the added stressor would do to my and James' relationship. Happily, it's brought us even closer. The little jokers have created yet another reason for us to bond and work together. Because we're on the same team, James and I, and sometimes it really does feel like US vs THEM. For example, it takes both of us to calm them down to eat and it takes both of us to keep up on poop patrol. It takes two sets of eyes to make sure they don't eat weird shit while out for walks. Even better, it's great to have someone to laugh with when one of them pukes up a rock the size of a mini snickers.
• I am employed and have been employed for over two years and will continue to be employed until at least 2011. My job isn't always the funnest or most stimulating and I get caught up in not having health insurance or earning less than I would if I were waiting tables full time. But then I realize that the last time I was outdoors this much was grade school, that I actually get paid to drive around and bullshit with my really funny coworkers and I've seen some gorgeous sunsets while measuring microtopography in BFE Utah. My job has required me to stop and recognize that the small things are what makes a community work and that this insight doesn't just apply to a desert ecosystem.
• I'm losing weight. Well, truthfully I've seemed to stay the exact same weight as I just trade fat for muscle. So I suppose the better way to say it is that I'm losing volume. I'm thinking a lot about my 30s since I'm about to round the 2nd base of my 20s. I need to start the good habits now, before I get too old and too set in my ways. I watched my mother try every stupid diet out there. I didn't inherit my emotional eating from her, I developed that on my own, but I do know what it feels like to watch your female role model battle body issues. Should I ever have a daugther, I'd like to be more confident for her. And feeling okay being naked with the lights on is a good place to start. Am I right??
• the puppies are chewing on the house again, this is not going my way but I just wanted to share. It's a pretty "little pig, little pig, let me in" moment to hear your house being chewed on only to look up and see two mini wolves gnawing on the trim
• we have a gang of frogs living in our water-valve box thing in our backyard. Like a parent to a child, James gave me explicit instructions to not open the lid until Spring lest I should wake the frogs early from hibernation and freeze them. It has truly been an exercise in patience and self control (what isn't with me?). I can't wait to have what will surely be a Disney cartoon in my backyard, musical numbers and all.
• even though I don't have health insurance I've managed to, in the last year, receive and pay for an MRI (which came out normal), two dentist appointments (no cavities!) and a visit to the lady-doctor (jury's still out but I'm feeling pretty confident). Back when I had insurance I never took such fine care of myself.
• James and I managed to watch every episode of LOST in about a month's time. It was a lot of ass time on the couch, a lot of peanut butter oatmeal and puppy drugging but it totally paid off since I feel completely up to speed and ready to tackle the final season. We're pretty much pro's now, ask us anything. Ever notice how that really expensive brand of Scotch shows up like 12 times?
• the Olympics are over and the Office is back. As James likes to say, "CANADA: America's hat" Need I say more?
• Last week I started talking in my sleep and really, really creeped out James. At one point all I said was "thanks a lot, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so so much". Unfortunately I can't recall the dream this was attached to, which is too bad since it sounds like things were really working out for me. The fact that this even happened at all is hilarious because payback is so so sweet. James is always talking in his sleep. One night he did the voices for both sides of one dream conversation: normal James and scary, evil James.
• My irrational fear of making new girlfriends is subsiding. I've been spending more time in all-female situations and they're actually quite pleasant. I blame highschool. I got burned pretty badly by some young ladies who I believed to my friends and ever since I've been reluctant to really put myself out there. Especially with ladies who are girlier than myself.

Well I gotta go make dinner...which I'm getting better at also. Psssh, who needs ISU when you've got all of the above?

Purple drinks...

For those who've run into a purple drink, you'll know that they never look this nice. More like a plastic cup full of dirty looking bar water with a splash of chambord for a nice purple color. I false-started today. I should have never gotten out of bed. Actually, no, that's not quite the truth. What I should have done was gone to work. Because, as you'll see, when left to my own devices after a night of purple drinks, I fight the day. The day doesn't want to fight me, it's busy with the other 6.3 billion people, but I get all suspicious of the day, like, "you lookin' at me day? what's your problem, DAY??"
Thought I'd let the puppies play inside while I got ready for the DAY, we had some laughs, discovered new, fun things like hiding under the bed and biting at the air from the hair dryer. I thought, "see, self, if I had sucked it up and gone to work, this mommy/puppy time wouldn't be happening. I can tell they really appreciate my being here." SLAP. Flash to The Weaz peeing in a corner. No Weaz, noooo! Bad Weaz! Why Weaz, why?
With the puppies outside I thought, "all is not lost on this DAY, I'll go grocery shopping and have dinner ready for my man. It's the least I can do, being home all day." Flash to Walmart, it's a mad-house, where I proceed to buy cans and cans of tomato sauce, an 18-pack of eggs, mozzarella cheese, no cheddar cheese and no caribbean jerk marinade because Walmart doesn't carry it. Flash to a special trip to Winco to stock up the aforementioned marinade. On the way home, discover through text message that Lasagne a la James requires tomato paste, crushed tomatos and an onion. Also learn that the case of cans in the pantry is not a case of tomato paste, but sauce. Once at home, standing in the pantry, the DAY is there with not only the case of sauce for me to add to but also a bottle of the special Winco-trip marinade, two half-full bags of mozzarella cheese and a full 18-pack of eggs in the fridge. Then the day asked, "well, we're out of cheddar cheese, did you grab any of that?" F, Day, seriously? Get out of my pantry!
So here I am, blogging, next to my grilled tuna fish sandwich, which I managed to totally burn one side of, St. Elmo's Fire rocking on iTunes, trying to tune out the sound of the puppies chewing on the house (James, I'm sorry, they won't stop! I tried being mean and scary but they thought it was a game...). I'll just turn my music up. Now it's a song from My Fair Lady, because I'm just hardcore like that. I wonder what alternate universe Erin did today. She went to work and probably kicked ass and took names while I cleaned up a puppy accident and spent money I don't really have on groceries we certainly didn't need.

You are my derivative...

...and I love when you lie tangent to my curve.

You were never a place holder. And while in reflection of our last couple years together, I see so clearly now that you were my beginning. The support and bullshit-flag-throwing I needed to build the foundation for my adult life. Because of you I am a better version of myself; I'm stronger, I'm healthier, I'm more confident, I can kinda cook stuff, I have never felt so much like myself. I know I can get out of hand sometimes, and my take on the world can be too much to compute but the fact that I can even share those things with you, without hesitation, even if it makes you shake your head and turn your eyes skyward, is more than I've ever had or any man has ever offered me.

Thank you for another perfect Valentine's Day. I appreciate, and am so thankful for, you. I don't know where I'd be right now if it weren't for you, but I'm sure I wouldn't like it. Or have a gym membership, or know how to make biscuits and gravy...which are two things that shouldn't exist without the other. You've brought much needed balance to my life and I will be always be sincerely grateful.

I love you honey.

BABIES!...of the canine variety

James and I have been discussing the expansion of our family unit for easily over a year. Whilst living in the apartment we would dream aloud of the day when we had a house and a yard; and how said yard would provide ample room for the sheer grace and natural royalty that is the SIberian Husky. Actually, it was James all along who wanted Huskies, two of them. I was just looking for something BIG and fluffy that would wrestle around with me when James wouldn't. Happily, the noble husky embodies just that. Last Saturday our cozy little two-pack doubled in size to now a handy four-pack. Let's meet the new members...shall we? This guy...oh man, if I had a nickel for every guy that looked at me like that...wooo-weee! This guy does not mess around, got it? He's 100% grade A little man. Weighing in at an impressive 14.5lbs (he's not fat...he's husky!), in the white fur, trimmed in black...DUTCH! Mr. Dutch appears to be a quick learner and eager to please. He's calm, patient (for a puppy) and basically really easy-going. He was the first of the two to offer up his belly for scratches. Some may say he too easily stepped into the role of second banana (or maybe fourth banana?) but I say that he's got it figured out and his sister is just missing out on belly-rubs. James found a kindred-spirit with Dutch in that they both have quite the fondness for racoons and/or racoon-like toys. Dutch tolerates his sister's cheap shots because he knows that when push comes to shove...he's the Offensive Lineman to her Free Safety. He also likes to eat twigs and small rocks.

This little one, Miss No-Name for the first couple days here on Raul St. I tried out a few names on her (Charlie, Denali, Goose...) and she would stop, turn towards me and just lay into me with these eyes that stirred something deep within me. All I know to equate it to would be (what I'm guessing) is the look of an annoyed teenage daughter. As if what I had said, just the sound of my voice, made her want to run away with her drummer boyfriend and get matching cobra tattoos. Little dee-va. James finally threatened that if I didn't have a name for her by end of the day HE would name her. Well, obviously, we couldn't have that, so, while deep in thought about her starlet/tartlet attitude it came to me! Weighing in at a svelte 10lbs, in the white fur, accessorized in a lovely red...HARLOW. Miss thang likes things her way. She's just as eager to please but she plays aloof for attention. She's also figured out that any degree of squat could earn her a treat so now we have the joy of trying to distinguish between real and fake pee. Playing with Harlow is like that scene from Jurassic Park where the Aussie is tracking the raptors. He sees one ahead of him, lines up for the shot but then realizes he's been duped and there's a second raptor staring right down his ear-hole. Just before he's ripped apart he offers up a "clever girl"...

Yes, we're all one happy, mostly house-broken Denney-Stewart pack

p90x-iest

My cousin Jenni was gracious enough to lend me her p90x program while she's pregnant and I am super pumped to get started. Today marks DAY 1 of my 90 days, I even took some BEFORE photos. Even more amazing is that I even considered posting those photos. But then my thighs went all Mariah Carey on the idea and well, now you'll have to wait for DAY 30 so I can show some results first. Here's how I see your inner monologues going:

YOU: "oh man, I had no idea she was hiding all that...oh god, good thing this isn't a movie...I'm eating over here...poor thing...how does she have the strength to stand? she has two back muscles! oh wait, no, just one...that's a shadow... are those paint samples behind her? I wonder which one they went with, that one looks really grey... does she want to sleep in a rain cloud or something? Maybe James picked it... I wonder which facial hair configuration he's rocking today...I miss the chin-strap..."

**Scrolling down**scroll**scroll**McScrollington

YOU: "whoa. This is only 30 days later?? My god, she looks like she could bench me! She probably benches James! Is that...baby oil?? I better not make her angry...I probably wouldn't like her when she's angry... looks like they still haven't painted either..."

FIN

you travel like a real Boo, you know that?

My travels, though somewhat limited, have always been quite smooth. Never a major delay, never a missed or cancelled flight, never a lost bag. The occasional shampoo bottle explosion sure, but I mean, come on...that's just physics. Not until I started travelling frequently with James did I discover that a black hole of shitty travel surrounds him, and when you travel with him there is no avoiding it. Not even time escapes.

So there we were, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed, at the Boise airport on our way to Tulsa, Oklahoma for the BSU game that evening. We should have known better really. We didn't even make it past the ticket counter this time before his travel voodoo started in with the pins.
"Ah, yes, looks like your flight out of Denver has been delayed 4 hours..."
"Awesome, so we'll get there around halftime...that's great because I started feeling like maybe the whole game would be too much football"
Cue James dropping the F bomb all the way to the security check point, cue me trying to distract him by making small talk about the Tulsa offense...no dice, he saw right through me. From his trusted utility belt James unleashes his Blackberry, conditioned to search for flights in but the raise of an eyebrow. While we mulled over the option of buying two more seats on another flight at $250 a pop we consulted some bloody marys. Mine didn't say a whole lot, probably because I didn't give her much of a chance but James' seemed to calm him right down. We decided to take our chances with the flight we had and left Boise (home of the $13 "but it's a double, sir" Bloody Mary) anxious and $26 lighter.
Lo and behold, upon arriving in Denver we discovered that our plane was just a smidge behind schedule and that the nice man working the Frontier counter in Boise struggles reading military time. 14:00 is 2 o'clock not 4...
We had a great time in Tulsa and Kansas City, despite the Broncos great attempts to cause otherwise. It was nice to see where James had run off to for half a year after graduating, always keeping in mind, however, how grateful I am that he was so unhappy there and came back to Boise to fall in love with me. I really owe him one. All in all, my whole take on the midwest: his friend Pat was funnier than I had anticipated, a whole lot more trees than I expected, it doesn't RAIN it MISTS on you, the food is fantastic and the portions are out of control.

**This tale is MILD in comparison to our adventure down the PCH and Baja Mexico last Spring...alas, I don't have the energy to get into that one right now. That and the pictures of me are terrible...let's just say I've got the fine wine thing going.

An Ode to the Chin-Strap

Iconic James: big Chevy truck, sleeveless shirts, tribal tattoos, Bud Light and the chin-strap...

James once vowed to me that I would never, EVER see his naked chin and jawline. He had convinced himself that without the definite border the chin-strap beard provided his neck would immediately annex his face. Like all good women I took this as a challenge; I would be the only one to ever see what lieth beneatheth the chin-strap. I think I pleaded with him for over a year to shave it off, the curiousity was consuming me. What's he hiding under there? I think he has a chin, I mean it looks like he has a chin...could he have lost his chin somehow?? How dare he tell me never, EVER...

Then, all of a sudden, last winter James had a fateful conversation with an electrician working at one of his installs and the chin-strap paid the ultimate price. Almost as quickly as it entered my life, it left and now James has vowed to never, EVER grow another. My man is smokin' hot regardless of facial hair configuration, I just wish I had gotten the chance to say goodbye. I fell in the love with that fantastically manicured beard and I just don't deal well with being told never, EVER...

O' chin-strap, O' chin-strap

I always knew where to find you,

the silver lining of my boyfriend's face

a beacon in the night, a comfort in the light

I know you're still there,

somewhere between the cheek and neck hair.

R.I.P. chin-strap