Books Inspired by Internet Sensations and my Recurring Dream

Today brings me back to an old haunt from my high school days: My first-ever job at the Hill Avenue Book Company in Spirit Lake, Iowa. The proprieter of Hill Avenue Book Co. and my former (and current?) boss Jill Krebs is out for the day and has left yours truly at the helm of her independent book store. As I did in high school, I've spent today perusing the shelves for interesting things to browse--baby name books (I have no desire for a child, I just love name books), tattoo magazines (again, not a personal craving), wedding planning guides (that's more like it), etc. I have the book lover's version of a too-much-candy stomachache after digging around in the shelves all day. I did get through two books today which are based on internet fads--the Awkward Family Photos compilation book and the F My Life book. This isn't really a grand accomplishment, in fact some might call it cheating on my 400 Goal, but I need some easy points to get to 100 books. I'm intrigued by these blogs-turned-books. I love both the Awkward Family Photos blog and, to a lesser extent, enjoy F My Life, but I figured the books weren't much more than a "greatest hits" sort of collection published to make some money off of these creative and funny websites. I'm not sure if the creators of these blogs withheld their best material for the books, but they certainly were fresh and funny. I was intrigued to learn that Fmylife.com was originally just a few French guys bitching about their problems to each other, which spurned a French website, which gained so much popularity that it inspired its English sibling, fmylife.com. I think I liked the F My Life book better than the site, actually, because it wasn't so full of posts from thirteen and fourteen-year-olds about their disgusting pubescent sexual misadventures.
A lot of people pass off humorous books, or really any type of comedy, as disposable, but I really enjoy a book that can make me laugh. In fact, I'm also breezing through Sh*t my Dad Says, another book about an internet sensation, this one a Twitter account started by a twentysomething forced to move back in with his wisecracking father. It's pretty funny, in the same vein as some of my favorite comedic authors, David Sedaris and Laurie Notaro.

On a completely different note, I had yet another of my recent series of recurring dreams about awful engagement rings. The first time I had one of these dreams was last year, and in the dream Adrian had proposed to me with a white gold and diamond ring shaped like a belt. I was overjoyed at his proposal but mortified at my new ring, especially since I'd intended to have a "candle pass" ceremony for the women in my sorority, which always ends with the obligatory engagement ring show and tell. At the end of the first dream I was scraping together my own money to buy a traditional engagement ring to show my friends. This first dream was funny to me, and I told Adrian and my mom about it. Since then, I've had this same type of dream three more times, including twice in the last three weeks alone. My dear friend Pastor Shirley believes that dreams are important messengers, just as much for us modern people as they were for our forebears in the Bible. Though Shirl does not subscribe to the "science" of dream interpretation exactly, I decided to do a little research on each of the four dreams and see if it turned up something interesting.

Ring symbolism in general, according to www.dreammoods.com and www.dreamforth.com is related to fidelity and strength of a relationship. Receiving a ring signifies the start of a fulfilling and honest relationship after a period of miscommunication. Both sites emphasize that receiving a ring is an important gesture in the dream because it shows the true devotedness of the giver. Score one for Adrian.

Dream #1, belt ring...



Belts mean constricted energy, punishment or control, and potentially a conflict between deeply held beliefs and new desires. Maybe subconsciously I think marriage is confining...or maybe I consciously think that, as well haha

Dream #2, Engagement ring with a tiny functioning watch on the front.



Watches signify the potential stagnation of life, or feeling restricted. They can be a symbol that the dreamer needs to let loose a bit. The watch can also mean the emotional life, potentially conflict about a course of action or a person's behavior. Sounds a bit like the belt.

Dream #3, hideous Irish claddagh ring bedazzled with a million little emeralds, alongside a mismatched giant gold ring with little shattered-looking emerald bits.



Gold can mean a treasured inner trait, or the valuing of oneself. Gold is also a symbol of the richness of life. The emerald means healing, as it is the subconscious symbol of vitality, long life, and fertility.

Dream #4 GIANT polished purple stone in a delicate setting with bizarre tiny seatbelts that snapped together over the stone in an X shape when I felt I was putting it in danger of falling out through strenuous activity.



The amethyst, though also my favorite stone in real life, symbolizes contentment with what one already has, both in their personal life and financially. A seatbelt can symbolize uncertainty or fear about an event.

I was hoping that after researching these symbols a bit I would have a clear roadmap to what these dreams mean. I choose to believe that they mean my wonderful boyfriend will give me a big fat rock this year ;) Actually, I think the dreams are displaying my true feelings about taking the next steps to adulthood--fear, uncertainty, doubt, but also excitement, faith, exuberance, and confidence in most situations.

I'm counting dream interpretation as a new thing "done", and my symbols as freshly learned knowledge.


Things left to Read, Make, Do, Learn=92, 83, 78, 82

Tomorrow we leave bright and early for a Thomson family vacation(my mom's sisters and parents) in Lanesboro, Minnesota. Potential blogging on site if the weather sucks and we can't bike or kayak, which, sadly, the forecast seems to predict.

Summer has Begun

The last two weeks have been a blur. Adrian and I flew back to Iowa last Monday from ten days on his home turf, southern California, where we vacationed for his sister Rosario's wedding. Aside from Adrian's brief stomach flu, my moments of Spanish amnesia where I was unable to participate in Araguas family conversation, and pre-wedding family stress, it was a wonderful time. We spent the first several days hanging out in his hometown of Holtville, CA, with his mom and dad and family friends. His mom is a really good cook, and we ate like crazy the whole time. During the week we went to the San Diego Zoo, to the two closest casinos, Viejas and Quechan, to Adrian's best friend Jimmy's pool, basically all over the place. On Friday we drove back to San Diego with the beautiful bride for the wedding weekend. We stayed at La Valencia , a fabulous hotel in La Jolla, north of San Diego. I cannot say enough about this hotel, the entire weekend I felt like I was Julia Roberts' character in Pretty Woman , because it was just so so fancy and cool. Adrian and I were in a pretty modest room, Rosy was in the bridal suite (TWO bathrooms, giant ocean view in the living room, huge bedroom, two plasma screen TVs), and their parents were in an oceanside villa (not quite as lavish as Rosy's room, but close). Rosy also held her wedding reception at La Valencia, which was the most incredible wedding I've ever seen in real life.
While we were in La Jolla, Adrian gave me a new amethyst necklace and earrings, which are very pretty. I'm all about purple, so even though I'm a January birthday I love amethyst jewelry. I cried and cried over that gift, I was so touched that he pulled off a real surprise for me! I couldn't believe it when I looked inside the box and it said Herteen and Stocker , the local Iowa City jeweler. I knew that he must've worked pretty hard to keep it a secret from me until that night (he stuck them in his mom's luggage, evidently, and prior to that had them wadded up in some yucky old t shirts in his suitcase), and he never succeeds at fully surprising me, so I was very overwhelmed.
The rest of the wedding weekend was wonderful but fleeting. We were boarding our red eye flight home to Iowa before we knew it.
Just two days after we arrived home from California, I WAS ACCEPTED INTO IOWA LAW! After almost six months of waiting, I was really and truly accepted. I'm still in disbelief. I found out while visiting my friend (and recent Iowa Law graduate) Virginia Witherspoon-Merritt in she and her husband's new home in Mason City. We both screamed bloody murder when we saw the email in my inbox, I was in total shock and disbelief.
So, now I'm back at the Smith ranch for the summer, preparing to begin law school in Iowa City this fall. If nothing else cool happened this summer, it would already be one of the best ever.
Since my last 400 Goal post, I've done some new things!
1) First time staying in a luxury hotel, La Valencia. Hopefully not my last time.
2) I sang at a wedding for the first time (of course, Rosy and Wes's), and it turned out the pianist I was singing with was just commissioned to compose all of the music for the upcoming Oprah Winfrey Network! She gave me her card and said she'd like to call me to record some tracks with her, I felt like pretty hot shit.
3) I was accepted into a top-tier law school (haha, I had to list it)

I also learned some things in California

1) Evidently, the Spanish verb tomar, which means "to take", can also be used for drinking, both non-alcoholic and alcoholic beverages. Interesante
2) La Mantilla is a Spanish lace veil that sits directly on the bride's head. Rosy's Mantilla was gorgeous.



3) Las arras are thirteen gold-plated pesos passed from groom to bride and then bride to groom. The arras symbolize the groom's promise to always provide for the bride and care for her, and the bride's promise to take care of their wealth and use it wisely. There are thirteen to symbolize Jesus and the disciples.



4) The "lasso" (that's what Carla called it, I don't know if it has a more official name) is placed over the bride and groom in a Hispanic wedding Mass to link them together.


Things left to Read, Make, Do, Learn=94, 83, 79, 90

While I commend myself for not quitting this ambitious new year's resolution yet, I'm also feeling daunted. Here's to a fun and busy summer!

Somehow, Wrestlemania made it better

First of all, thanks to everyone who had me on self-destruction watch last week. I survived about thirteen more crying jags since my last post and finally feel like I have it back together. I created a full "To-do List:LIFE", which made me feel a lot more in control. I'm even preparing to send in my Drake law school deposit and make it official! Today I declared my intent to attend Drake via email and was "welcomed into the Drake family" by one of the admissions staff. That felt nice. I guess, after all of my fear and uncertainty over what would happen next year, I realized that I AM GOING TO LAW SCHOOL. Regardless of whether I'm attending Harvard Law or California School of Law Online (okay, or maybe somewhere less horrible than that, like Appalachian School of Law), I am about to become a graduate student, and that sounds awesome.

So my pseudo-breakdown was fully dissolved, not by my own realization that everything will be fine or everyone watching over me in case I did not come to that realization, but by watching Wrestlemania with a bunch of Adrian and my friends Sunday night. Though I hail from a sheep farm in rural Iowa, I had not been exposed to WWE until I started dating Adrian. He has watched professional wrestling since he was a little kid, and I was not keen on joining in at first. The whole concept seemed extremely gaudy, phony, and obnoxious. And yet today, after my first Wrestlemania experience, I have to say that I'm sort of a WWE fan. What prompted this change of heart? WWE is ENTERTAINING. Since most of you will not just trust me on this, here's my top five reasons why WWE is pretty fun tv, especially to watch as a couple.

1) The wrestlers are pretty hot. Some are ugly, such as Wrestlemania's eighteen-time champion, The Undertaker, pictured below...



and some (in fact, MOST) of the wrestlers, are very hot. In fact, I have to argue that John Morrison, my personal favorite and a contender for the Tag Team title last night, is TOO hot. Observe...



2) WWE is popular worldwide. From los luchadors in Mexico to fans in Japan, millions of people enjoy WWE entertainment. I thought it was so cute at our friend Matthias' apartment Sunday that the three lifelong WWE fans were Matthias, rural Iowa guy, Adrian, son of a Spanish sheep farmer, and Jay, who was born and raised in India! Screw soccer, that's some international appeal. Jay said that "The Great Khali", a WWE wrestler who is of Indian descent, is an Indian national icon.



3) WWE is easy to understand. the very first time I watched Monday Night Raw with Adrian, I knew what was going on--guys are gonna try to pin each other, period. Another bonus for myself (as the stereotypical sports illiterate woman)is that I'm allowed to talk and laugh at what's going on without getting the evil eye from even my dedicated wrestling fan boyfriend. This leads me to point four...

4) WWE is HILARIOUS. I laugh so hard watching Raw or Smackdown sometimes. The melodramatic monologues, ridiculous costuming, and occasional poorly-executed move invite me to laugh with and at what is going on onscreen. A particularly hilarious nugget is this video of the theme song for Shawn Michaels, aka "The Heartbreak Kid", whose career has supposedly ended after he lost in Wrestlemania to The Undertaker.



Note the creative lyricism--"I'm just a sexy boy/I'm not your boy toy". LOVE IT. I've already booked Matthias to perform a striptease at my bachelorette party to this song, a routine he created for another bachelorette event last year.

Another hilarious aspect of WWE is the fashion. My lover John Morrison never disappoints, between his bedazzled jeans, furry boots, (which, I'd like to note, he wore at Wrestlemania this Sunday, which was held in ARIZONA)and pimp coats. All this on top of his beautiful pony mane and shredded body makes for a hot (and hilarious) viewing experience. Here he is in Afghanistan, wrestling with his furry boots on. That had to have been comfortable.



I also enjoyed the episode of Project Runway (two seasons ago??) where the designers had to make a costume for the WWE Divas. There's nothing better than Tim Gunn pictured with female pro wrestlers in costume.



5)The real reason I was able to watch Raw and Smackdown with Adrian after my original distaste for professional wrestling is that WWE is extremely patriotic, and genuinely gives back to the community, especially to the US armed forces. I endured past the initial cheese factor because I really enjoyed watching a pre-Christmas episode of Smackdown last year that was performed in the Middle East to an audience of soldiers.

So, my latest "first" was watching Wrestlemania. It was a very fun way to spend a Sunday night. Now I just need to start brainstorming my WWE Diva costume for next year...

Here I am, in a slump

The first week back to school after spring break can only be characterized by one word, but Ell Bell reads my blog so I'll keep myself from writing it. It's such a horrible feeling to realize that you're so suddenly back in the swing of things, and (if you're like me)you didn't really accomplish anything in your time off.

My big "first" so far this week? Being waitlisted at a law school, and my #1 choice at that. Thanks, Iowa Law. According to the email I was sent yesterday (and some quick calculations by Adrian), I have about a 3% chance of being admitted, and if I somehow am, I have three more months of waiting ahead of me before I know. I thought that being waitlisted was a more optimistic situation than this. I'm very heartbroken to know the truth.

So, I'm finding myself in a bit of a slump. Thank God for Adrian, my Spanish salvation, who lets me talk/shout about how angry I am about the law school admissions process while we're working out, and who has taken me out to buy me "treats" the past two nights as part of his Liz Smith wrist-slitting prevention program (sort of a "To Write Love on her Arms" for young women with graduation anxiety). You know how awesome I am when I tell you that my treats have consisted of the most recent issue of O Magazine, a bottle of wine, and some Skinny Cow ice cream treats.

To get out of my slump, I've gone through several of my tried-and-true coping mechanisms, like putting things in perspective, calling the list of friends I always run to when my life sucks, etc. These were largely futile, so I tried to turn to external feel-goods, aka vices. This made me even more blue. Someone needs to come up with a vice that is a)not illegal, b)not habit-forming, c)not horrible for you/a carcinogen, or d)not fattening. Is that too much to ask?! The only thing I can think of is...exercise. I'm going to give it a shot now. If you see me arrested/passed out on the street or obese later, you'll know that it failed.

Failure Weekend

This weekend was such a mega failure.

First, there are so many things I wanted to accomplish but did not. For example, I'm still trudging through Empire Falls, and I was hoping to finish reading that this weekend. I also had a lot of homework goals, and not one of those was even started, much less completed.

Second, even the fun "blowing-off-my-responsibilities" activities turned to crap on me. We went out Friday night, and I ended up in an argument with Brin and having my wallet STOLEN (not lost, stolen. We're sure. I hate the Summit). Saturday, excited to have bounced back (and very excited to have had a backup ID, from when I'd thought I lost it last year), I drank way too much and vomited over a good portion of the second floor of Adrian's duplex, while all of our friends were downstairs semi-sober, waiting to go downtown. I hate getting too drunk, and this was not my first experience with this dilemma. I wake up feeling disgusting the next day, too embarrassed even to allow myself a good cry about it, and the cloud of guilt and mortification hangs over my head for at least two days afterward. Luckily, I'm pretty sure everyone who was here Saturday has graciously forgiven me (including Adrian). After I stopped feeling hungover yesterday (and missed Mass, another black mark on my weekend), Adrian and I decided to go sledding in the schoolyard across from his place. The hill was so slippery that we couldn't walk up it without a running start, so you can imagine the sledding--it was a luge. Unlike the Olympic luge, however, our short, fast run down the hill ended with a chain link fence. We were laughing as we slammed our bodies into the fence, especially at one point when Adrian created a permanent dent in it...then I hit the post instead of the fencing portion. In trying to stop myself by driving a hand into the snow in front of the sled, I had created a fulcrum on which my fully-fed Iowa body could pivot, roughly at the speed of sound, until my outer left thigh came into contact with the fence post. I yelped so loudly I'm positive everyone in the vicinity could hear me. Adrian sledded down to me and tried out some sports medicine techniques he'd seen on the NFL broadcasts, lifting my leg up and whatnot, which were largely futile. Then he just kissed it, in hopes that I'd stop crying so he could drag me across the street without an audience. Today I have a substantial swollen scrape/bruise combo goiter on my leg, plus a cute little limp.

Before the knee pain really kicked in, Adrian and I made a snowman after sledding, Adrian's first ever. He was very excited about it, though between my leg drama and lacking snowman skills, I wasn't being a very helpful teacher. We made her a girl, complete with a grenadine mouth (looks bloody and gross), hair (lovely branches from the shrub in front of the house that we ripped off), and breasts (Adrian took sole responsibility for forming these).



Sadly, the high point of my weekend was probably work on Friday night. I don't even really enjoy my current home health care position all that much, I essentially work as a servant girl for $10/hour while the client pays my company $25/hr. Plus, we only have a few clients who need the help of the aides, so I'm basically going to the same house all the time. Anyways, work was halfway nice because I've been reading aloud to my client lately from The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid: A Memoir by Bill Bryson, his account of his childhood in Des Moines in the 1950's. Pure gold. It was a little weird reading aloud to adults at first, but after awhile it made me feel very Little House on the Prairie. Plus, the book is so funny, whether it's the magazine clippings Bryson included from the period ("More Doctor's Smoke Camels than any other brand of Cigarette!") or the hilarious stories about his family, or even the history lesson about Des Moines (more fascinating than one might think).

Here's to a more successful week, and certainly a more successful weekend.

Valentine's Weekend

Well, it's been an eventful week since I last posted! First off, the Best Buddies Valentine's Day dance was on Friday. I met up with my buddy, Traci, ahead of time to do her hair and makeup, and we headed to Southeast Junior High where all of the Best Buddies chapters from the area congregated to dance the night (or five to seven in the afternoon, but who's keeping track?) away. We really did have so much fun. I can't believe how positively the Best Buddies program impacts both the buddies and the college buddies. The people who put the time into doing things as simple as putting on a Valentine's dance really make a difference for the people with physical and intellectual disabilities who attend, as well as the students who participate. All of us college women were dancing our asses off, not only in the spirit of acceptance and love present at all BB functions, but also because the high schoolers present thought we were cool (or, very likely, they just wanted us to buy them beer).

Check out these totally hot pics of us dancing (literally, it was sweltering in that gym!).



Best Buddies makes me happy to be alive. Since this was my first Best Buddies dance (and my first makeover!), one more new thing done.

Saturday, Adrian and I drove up to Cedar Rapids to have dinner at the gorgeous home of our friends Brad and Amy, along with fellow dinner guest and friend, Jay. Amy made delicious lasagna and even used low fat ingredients for us dieters. After dinner, in honor of Valentine's Day, we headed to...




MONSTER TRUCKS XL. It was pretty romantic (not). I purchased the tickets as a Valentine's gift for Adrian (along with the "Three Wolf Moon" tshirt of amazon.com and "The Office" fame, pics to come), and convinced Brad and Amy to join us. Jay was harder to sell on the idea, but after we reminded him that we were good sports about watching "Three Idiots" all in Hindi to experience his culture, he was more receptive. I told him that this would be a good way to experience American culture, though afterward I hope to God that that is not the case. The experience was more redneck than even I, a girl who grew up on a sheep farm with a dad who has been known to do number one AND two outside, had anticipated.

The real horror of the evening was not the show, which was pretty fun to watch, albeit a tad repetitive in the small space of the US Cellular Center. The truly sad moment was at intermission. After the emcee announced that Todd and Brenda such-and-such were there celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary (to which I shouted "GO TODD!" to congratulate him on his romantic and special 20th anniversary date), he asked us to draw our attention to the track for a special announcement. At this point, we witnessed A PROPOSAL. On the dirt track of the monster truck rally, sans ring, with the girl up in the stands. The guy couldn't have been much older than me, and his speech was something like, "Uh, Becky, I wanted to do this in a way that you wouldn't expect, and I really don't think you'd expect this, so...Will you marry me?". The announcer immediately said, "She says YES!", and the kid was ushered out of the ring. I'm still wondering, days later, if she actually said yes, or if she looked so stunned (read:horrified)that they decided to give her a moment and spare the guy some embarrassment if she declined. We laughed extra hard when Jay turned to us and said, "They didn't even turn down the lights!". I feel as though the lights were the least of that couple's worries.

Oh, one more thing about the monster truck rally. They sold Confederate flags for the kids to wave in the stands. Seriously, people? We're not even near the Mason-Dixon line. Even as a registered Republican who's not prone to supporting intense political correctness, I was embarrassed and mildly offended.

So, first monster truck rally. One more new thing done. I also learned something there. In order to prevent driver injury, there's a guy in the ring who has a remote that can automatically kill the monster truck's engine. Fascinating. Also, heavyset women do routines with the light-up stick souvenirs before the show starts...it was pretty sexy, to say the least.

In boring news, I embarked on a financial goal/plan for the first time last week. I'm donating plasma every week until Adrian's sister Rosy's wedding so I can buy some hot clothes for California.

That is all. More new things to come.

Things left to Read, Make, Do, Learn=98, 96.5, 90, 95

Twenty-One

This week is the beginning of my second week being twenty-one. I’ve started this blog to document my life during this big year, and also to serve as a distraction from the ever present terror of waiting on my law school admissions decisions. My goals for the age of twenty-one are straightforward–read 100 books, make 100 things, learn 100 things, and do 100 new things. I decided to start after the first week was over so I’d have a few things to add.
So, let’s begin. Day one was a VERY fun day. My twenty-first birthday had big potential to be a downer, especially since it falls over Christmas break when no one is in Iowa City. In spite of this, the day was a MAJOR success full of firsts. At midnight, my boyfriend Adrian took me to the casino and I actually won some money! With my free ten gambling dollars from the casino, I won over two hundred! It was a very exciting event, and the first time I’ve ever won money while gambling. After a few hours of sleep, church, and football viewing, it was time for my birthday dinner at Three Samurai. A nice assortment of Adrian and my friends were in attendence. One of my close friends purchased me my first legal drink, and I had my first sake bomb (and second, third, potentially fourth…?). After dinner we headed to a local bar for some drinks. We all put on glow stick necklaces and bracelets in preparation for the drag show we were heading to later on (another first!). The bar was all ours as no students were back yet and it was a Sunday night. After attempting twenty pitchers of beer (I drank valiantly), we headed down the alley (classy) to Studio 13, the local gay bar, for our (myself, my girlfriends Matti, Laura, and Whitney, and Whitney’s great sport of a boyfriend, Chris) first ever drag show. By this point my mind was a bit foggy, but the show was very fun. I hugged, danced with/accosted, and tipped every queen. Laura says at one point I was trying to give each queen a twenty, and she mercifully took my money and got change so I would control myself. After a brief and assuredly tantalizing stint in the dance cage with Whitney, I was escorted back to Adrian’s apartment, where I would nurse a hangover until four pm the next day.
The rest of the week was a bit of a roller coaster emotionally, especially as last week was also week four of waiting on my law school applications. Of the four schools I’ve applied to I have a definite first choice, and as more time passes I realize that admission to this school means more to me than anything I’ve ever attempted in the past. This desperation has coincided well with now being of legal drinking age. I have consumed about a quarter of my body weight in jug wine during the past five days alone. The incredible level of anxiety has pushed me to consider a lot of options–prescription anxiety medication (too expensive and potentially laden with side effects), binge eating/drinking (harmful, plus weight gain will just make things worse), exercise (not bad), or….making stuff! Last week I knitted these SWEET mitts for myself. Making things makes me feel less aggravated, and gives me something else to lash out at if my loved ones are ready to give up on me.
So, to sum up week one.
Books Read–zero…gotta work on this one
Things made–two mitts! Or one pair, but I’m shooting for two.
Things learned–I watched a documentary about Miss Gay America called “Pageant” and learned about drag queens. Female impersonators (specific term for drag queens) are NOT transgender, they are simply men who perform as women. The Miss Gay America Pageant does not allow men who are trying through hormonal or other permanent means to look like or become women. There’s even a male interview where the man dresses as himself. So, one thing learned.
New things tried–Winning at the casino, drinking legally, attending a drag show

Left to accomplish
100 books
98 things to make
99 things to learn
97 things to try
This is going to be a great year!