Homemade Christmas (read: Poor)

I made several Christmas presents this year. Now that they've all been disbursed, I can brag about how super cool and talented I am.

JElsbury.
She has a giant red flower painting in her living room, so I thought these would go in there really well.

Erica, Becky, James.
I got the idea for these here from Jessica, who is a VERY talented seamstress. Take a minute to look at all the fabulous bags she makes!  She's seriously a genius.  I thought these were a fun and funky way to make art personal.

Girls.
I got the idea for these while shopping for one for myself. It always seems like when you're on vacation, you do your hair last and then you're left with a hot flat iron that needs to be packed.  Solution: Nifty flat iron pouches that have heat resistant material inside and insulated batting.  I looked at several online before I decided, "I can make that". So I did.

I put big black buttons on them with magnetic closures, but forgot to take a finished picture.



James.
This was THE knitting undertaking of the century. I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out, even though it's big enough to hide a body in.

*Disclaimer: All homemade gifts include free cat hair.

Where I work :/

Yoga

After yesterday's.... incident.... I decided to take dear Becky's advice and look into yoga. 
I've always wanted to be the kind of person that did yoga and drank tea and busted out super cool moves for party tricks. Why I've never actually put work into that, I don't know. Maybe because I tried the tea thing first, and it's gross?
Anyway. I dusted off my yoga book last night and went to work.
I (think) I did several poses (fairly) successfully.
The hardest part was the breathing.  I think that might be because I'm fat though. Just a guess.
After struggling through half the book, I felt pretty good.  I felt like maybe this was something that I could practice and get better at. I even did it again this morning.
And then,  I started googling yoga. Reading about different types, trying to cram all their names in my little tiny overloaded brain. I think I ended up deleting some South Park references in order to make them all fit.

I came across this video in my research.
Mind = Blown.

Start watching at 2:20

I can't decide if I'm more or less interested in yoga now......

New Years Resolution Addendum.

Once upon a time, I was having a really super fabulous day. And then something happened that totally pissed me off, made me cringe and want to beat the mother lovin' tar out of someone. You know, the hot rage you get when you get warm inside and tense up and don't know whether to punch something or curse repeatedly or cry in the fetal position or get a mouth guard because you think you might shatter all your own teeth from gritting them too hard?

Addendum to the last post.
New Year's Resolution: CONTROL MY CHI.

Yeah, not so much my flat iron, but my "life force". The energy flowing through my body.  How can I be such a proponent of peace on earth when I can't even dictate peace in my own damn body?

There's just a handful of things that seem to push the "GO FIGHT WIN" button.
It super sucks when there are people that only know you from seeing that button be pushed, and not the other 97% of the time.

I think I'd compare myself to those marshmallow filled chocolate Santas. Someone who's typically jolly, yet, you totally don't want to piss them off because they'll put you on the naughty list. Hard crusty intimidating shell, gooey vulnerable marshmallow guts that, in reality, only did one thing on that hot ragey list. Cried.

Dear 2011

It appears as though you've arrived right on schedule, to find me the same neurotic fatass I was in 2010. Crazy.
No, I know, it's really not that crazy.  I didn't really do anything in 2010 to change anything although I vowed over and over that I would.  I went through ADD spasms of pretending I was going to be skinny one day, they just never really stuck. 

Remember in March, when I was riding my exercise bike like a million miles a day and then Jesus made me go to Las Vegas twice where I ate and drank a lot and ruined any progress I might have made? Or how about October when I uploaded a Nike fit app on my iPhone and had religiously done my workouts for THREE WHOLE DAYS and then Jesus made me sick for an entire month?  Or how about just recently, when Jesus had a birthday party and told me that all he wanted from me was to eat three cheese balls?

Maybe I should be writing this letter to Jesus.

2011, I didn't promise you anything this year. I've been reading all week the magical and glorious things people plan on doing to themselves during your reign. And good for them.  I guess all I can hope for is that you are as good to me as 2010 was. (Except for that entire month I was sick. Not cool, 2010.) (And the part about me still being a fatass.) (Oh, and maybe you could stop making my neighbors all move or die, I'm starting to get a complex.) (Unless it's the ones to the East. They could totally move.  Or die.)

I'd like to thank you in advance for my super awesome family and my hot boyfriend, and for providing me with badass friends that are mostly bad influences but totally mean well.  Mostly.  Also, my usually zit-free face and ability to drink beer before liquor and not be sicker.
Oh, and do you think I should cut bangs?
Is that one for Jesus?  I'm getting confused.

Sincerely,

ern

F is for.......

FRIDAY from hell.
HO. LY. BALLS. It has been the longest day ever. My phone just tried to make me say he'll instead of hell. No, iPhone. Get with the program.
Today started out like any other Friday. My job involves different tasks every day of the week, but the same tasks coincide with the same days of the week. Get it? Me either. Moving right along.
I knew what my job was supposed to entail today, what I did not know was how secretly, a little corporate graphic artist Nazi was about to ruin my life.
Long story short, I opened my work today to find out that (insert chain store here) had switched design programs and neglected to warn me. Typically new things aren't too bad, but when you throw Deadlines in with them, they can prove to be quite unpleasant.
Fast forward 11 icky hours later that may or may not have included sobbing like a little bitch to a male coworker about my dilemma.....which by the way, is super uncool. It kindof reminds men that women ARE just silly little pathetic creatures that can't handle the workplace and should just go back to their kitchens and spew children out and vacuum stuff.
Anyway. 11 hours later, I am in the fetal position on my couch, and I'm pretty sure I'm going blind.
Good news though. In the end, I WIN. I did not come home to wax floors and can apricots, I kicked that ad's ass.


And now I shall drink beer.

$#!T on Wednesday #'s 44, 45, 46, 47

So... I think we did some... uh... stuff?  I'm sure it was awesome, but really, I don't remember much.
I've been heavily medicated since the 5th of November. For those of you that graduated from Box Elder High and need help with math, that equals 25 days ago.  Which is bullshit, since I'm still sick.
Running through my veins is somewhere between 79-84% Sudafed.
The main active ingredient in Sudafed is pseudoephedrine.  Pseudoephedrine is a main active ingredient in meth. But hey, at least those of you that graduated from Box Elder High already knew that.
Basically, if I drank some bleach I'd be a walking meth lab. Which sounds kindof awesome, in theory, except that my brain is so full of sticky snot that it's making it a lot less awesome. Gruesome, I know. It's my life.
I finally got on some antibiotics and am slowly starting to feel human again. Maybe I'll keep on the Sudafed diet though and see what that does for me.
No wait. I like my teeth.
Nevermind.

SO.  Weeks 44 & 45 are a blur, but #46 was Brad's birthday!
We went to Andy's for dinner with Brad's besties and fam.

My friend Benny got me this rad book of space photography for my birthday, and Brad enjoyed looking at it so I got him a copy too.
I thought he was super excited about it, but I think he's flipping off the camera, so now I'm not sure.  Crap.

Alicia, Erica & Me at birthday dinner




Week #47 was one that I really look forward too every year,
BFF THANKSGIVING!!!!
Everyone had a great time, and even though we're usually together every week anyway, BFF Thanksgiving seems special.  Precious, I know.  
I'm thankful for every single one of these obnoxious shitheads. 
Even though they went to the bar after dinner and left me to do dishes by muhself. 
Like I said. Shitheads.

It's super cozy in my little kitchen, good thing everyone likes each other

Signature Aaron photo, with Jess playing along

My siblings :)

My favoritest bro-in-law. And not just because he's the only one :)

Manny's famous (infamous?) Beer butted keg roasted goodness of spectacular wonder. :)

The men... doing their thing.

Archibalds!

See how good it is?!

SHOCKINGLY good. 

Homemade Pie. OM NOM NOM

Classy.

Somebody has drunk eyes...and it's not me....