Pre-Staging Clean Up

So we haven't gotten the official "ok" from the building department about whether or not we can build on "the farm" but we are fixed on the idea that we are doing so: we have picked out a floor plan, set a price for our home, talked to and about a realtor (and decided against it), surfed about info for selling a home, etc. I have come across many an article that talks about the staging of the home for prospective buyers but before you get to that point you must first get rid of "personal" touches and clean out cupboards and make them resemble the grocery store because if it is tidy in the cupboard the buyer will believe you take great care with your "things", including the house they may buy. I fancy myself a neat freak, I love to clean and my house is COMPLETELY organized--or so I thought. Last summer my husband remodeled our kitchen (complete gut and rebuild) and I now have many cupboards which I wasn't blessed with before. Before, I had a food cupboard, a dish cupboard, a tupperware cupboard, a glasses cupboard, and a "machine" cupboard (slow cookers, bread maker, rice cooker, blender, etc.) Once I moved into my new kitchen I willy nilly put things away and I now regret it. I just finished re-organizing my kitchen cabinets. I had canned goods in all cabinets except those that held plates WTF! I put them all in the "canned good" cabinet that is on the bottom and organized it like freakin Albertson's. I had NO idea how many cans of whole kernel corn I had (we must like it and I continue buying it before checking on what I already own). My kitchen now makes sense but we have to reprogram ourselves when getting the salt and pepper and the like--nothing is where it once was, oh except the cereal. When I finish here I am tackling my bathroom. I would like to know how does one not become a pack rat in the bathroom? How can I get beyond the "I may want/need this one day"? Come on, how many bath cubes does a woman really need--I don't even take baths, I shower!!!

Face the CH-CH-CH-changes

I have lived in the same house for the last 9 years. It is in the same little town I grew up in and vowed to leave once I was of age yet chose to come back to when I found out I had a bun in the oven. To put even more emphasis on my house: my maternal grandfather lived in it for a period when he was in his teens and my father was raised, from birth, in this house. I love my house and vowed I would never leave it. It sits on a WHOLE acre of land that houses my various farm animals, has 12+ mature fruit trees and an ungodly amount of mature "other" trees. Yet, it has only 1 bathroom and I am the only female in the place. My little family has outgrown it and as sad as I will be to leave we need to, oh, and one other little thing: we would be COMPLETELY out of debt if we sold it and built elsewhere. I have pretty much gotten over the initial mourning and I know it will return if/when we move and now I am hearing that we may not be able to move because of some jack ass new ordinance the county made regarding the houses built on family farms (which is where we have land: Jesse's family farm). I have been dropped off of my shiny little optimistic and excited cloud. Now I'm being overly pessimistic, it has not proven to be impossible Jesse still needs to look further into it (and he's not moving as fast as I want because when I want something I wanted it yesterday, I'm impatient once I have set my mind on something). I've been looking at floor plans and pretty much decided on what I want. Now I have to get my house and yard in selling shape. This is where you come in. Many of you have recently moved/sold homes what do I do to prep my house so that people will immediately fall in love and buy it? Then, what is the best way to approach the whole pack and move shit to storage so you can live in a small rental for a couple of months? Help me, I've never done this before, Jesse and I went from our newly wed rental to this house so we didn't own much at the time. Please comment.

Tweeker

That is how I've been feeling for the last few weeks. You'd think I would gain a tolerance over 30 years, but still waiting. I have had super bad allergies since birth and the warm spring weather combined with the strong winds (just the last 4 days) have really sent me in a tailspin. Watery, itchy eyes; runny, stuffy, itchy nose; itchy throat; sinus headaches; and coughing like a 20 year smoker. I HATE IT, but not as much as I hate being on my meds. I really don't know how people become tweekers (noun; person addicted to amphetamines/speed). I take my meds to relieve the symptoms (which I have yet to find a pill that takes away all of my allergy problems for the day--any suggestions?). I really appreciate the initial burst of energy and ideas: I come up with good lessons while high and I can clean a house in record time! But next comes the cotton mouth: I drink water like a fish, am constantly licking my lips and wiping the sides of my mouth, not to mention my inability to speak fluidly. If I were a high school student I would've turned my ass in for the blatant display of extra curricular activities. Next is the blood shot and dilated eyes. I actually put Visine in twice before I leave the house in hopes of ridding the redness. The worse part is the paranoia--side effect of the pseudo ephedrine. I just know people are looking at me and thinking "she is high as a kite", my students are thinking "Mrs Hirschi knows how to roll". People are going to think I'm snorting a line every time I go to the restroom. At night, once the pill wears off, I realize that it was nonsense paranoia brought about by the allergy med and try to talk myself out of the irrational thoughts I will have the next day. How can anyone get beyond the irrational paranoid thoughts that come with amphetamines? NOTHING is worth it--even the much needed energy. Well, I think I will eat dinner and shower so that I can begin my pep talk about what is reality and what are just crazy thoughts brought about by a day of popping allergy meds, as prescribed.

Which is worse: pads or pissing yourself?

I didn't start my period until I was 13 years old and in the 9th grade, my younger sister started long before me; she was in the 6th or 7th grade (I know TMI but I have to set the stage). For most young girls you learn about these things from friends and older siblings, the stuff your mother tells you goes in one ear and out the other because you cannot get out of the room fast enough--MY GOD WOMAN WHY ARE YOU SAYING THESE THINGS THAT EMBARRASS THE PISS OUT OF ME??? I learned from my friends and my little sister. My mother would only buy Day pads for her time of the month (mommy didn't have one anymore, emergency hysterectomy) and Day was fine with it, I guess. She was a major tomboy and told my parents that she just "wasn't going to have it". My mom's reply was "good luck with that". Day was either unaware of tampons or didn't want to deal with other methods. Anywaaaaayyyyyy.... when I finally started I realized that none of my friends wore pads, not to mention how uncomfortable I was while wearing them, if I started at a friends house I was SOL and had to call mommy to bring me the mature diapers. I was finally sick of wearing the things--with wings, without wings, overnight, regular, long--it didn't matter I was done. When I asked my mother to buy me tampons you would have thought I told her I just slashed the throats of our elderly neighbor. DISGUST!! "Do you know what kind of girls wear those? Loose girls, you know the EASY ones" and my all time favorite "you and your sister should probably not try tampons because when your aunt and I did it was terrible--our insides were pulled out when we removed them". WTF! Yep, I was scared and ashamed, good work mom. As I have mentioned in prior posts, one of the styles of my high school years was skin tight pants which do not cooperate with maxi/mini/liner pads. I saved up my lunch money (it wasn't too hard to do, I only needed $4 a week for smokes and $1 a day for a Pepsi---oh the life....) and bought my own damn box of tampons. My first purchase was Tampax Super, which my friend Lindi made a comment about but it wasn't because I was slutty and everything else would fall out it was because I bleed like Niagara falls!! I diligently read and followed the pictorial instructions included in the box. Everything went well, I was so much comfier. I feared the time to remove it, I was scared to death. How would I explain my internal female reproduction system now being external to my mother? I waited until that bad boy was so full the string was tinged. I sat on the toilet silently praying my mom wouldn't kill me if the inside out turn didn't, I pulled and it was difficult (nerve tension) but it came out and nothing else did. HOORAY!! I don't have to explain myself to my mother, she would not think I was a slut and I wouldn't bleed to death from my internals becoming external!! Life was good. I had to hide my boxes of tampons in my room and completely wrap in TP what didn't flush. I finally could come clean to my mother when I was 17 and graduating from high school. She didn't look as ashamed of me then, huh?
Last night I went to my cardio blast class again and wore the damn pad. I don't know which is worse: pissing yourself or wearing a pad when you don't need it? All of the above memories were brought to surface while I was attaching the wings around. We didn't do the jumping jacks--SON OF A BITCH!!! I swear, I can't win for nothing.

Bitches

When the male turkey approaches a female or a group of females he flairs his tail feathers, which are beautiful, puffs out his chest so he appears more masculine and does a type of dance that proves to the female that he is more special than the next guy. When a human female approaches a group of human females she sucks in her gut, holds her shoulders back as far as possible so that her boobs look extra large/perky, and puts on her best fake smile to prove to the other females that she is super nice and wants to be accepted all the while she is inspecting every physical aspect of the group. It doesn't matter if you are the super skinny chick with the tight ass and perky tits or the "bigger boned" sweet spirit (who truly does think of others before herself) we all do this. We compare ourselves with all the other females we encounter and quietly inside our calculating mind we are thinking "yea if I had $50,000 burning a hole in my pocket I'd talk to your doctor and order your body too" or "who does she think she is I know that no one is that nice what the hell does she want" or "not a bad ass, I wish I had the will power for the squats it took to get that" or any of the other thoughts we play with. Why are all women bitches, why do we feel we must compare ourselves to others who share the same insecurities? I wonder these things but I, too, am guilty of thinking nasty things. I have a friend who not only thinks these things but says them out loud. I love her to death and she totally cracks me up, but what the hell. I had just purchased a new pair of jeans (I was out of town and had forgotten the flats that went with the jeans I packed. I tried to find new flats but no avail) and she was commenting on the brand they were and the price they might have been. Who the f--- cares, you could buy them too and you probably do but I don't say shit about it. I don't think she meant anything by it but we were in a crowd of people, most of whom I do not know, and I felt a tad bit insecure. I understand we all think these things, but please don't say it out loud. I am guilty of a similar situation: like you all know I go to the gym religiously. Anyway I also have to take a monthly teacher training class where I have a classmate (an elementary teacher--I have no idea of her name or school) who also goes to the gym regularly. This teacher is stick thin, maybe a size 1--just really tiny so she is able to wear those lycra tops that we see women wear on the bowflex commercial. The problem is she chooses not to wear a bra. I do understand that she has zero body fat and could easily go without one in everyday clothing but in the workout gear it is totally poke your eye out, don't get to close. I don't speak to her at the gym or at our teacher prep class but I am constantly thinking "do you really think you look hot with your RT at the gym" everywhere I see her. I am such a bitch! A nice person would tactfully speak to her about the new crayon look because maybe she is totally unaware. I don't know how to do this but it would be nice. The point of all this incoherence is that we all think evil things and maybe we could work on being nicer.

End note: if you came walking out of the restroom with your skirt tucked into your thong, I would tell you and it probably wouldn't be tactful.

I Believe I Peed My Pants

A couple of weeks ago I spoke to a friend of mine, who coincidentally is a personal trainer at the gym, about my plateau. I think because she is my friend she wouldn't officially take me on as a client--I would have to pay an ungodly amount of money for her ideas/suggestions. She explained that I must change what I eat (namely cut out carbonation and sugar... YIKES!!) and start attending her Monday night cardio blast class which would jump start my metabolism again. Last week was my first time at the class and it kicked my butt, BUT I kept up with the girls who have been attending the class since it began. We start the class with 3 minutes of jumping jacks and it gets harder from there. I now know what Kegals are for and it has NOTHING to do with sex. Last week I experienced a little seepage (sp?) during the up and down jarring of jumping jacks, but as I saw flocks of girls excuse themselves to the restroom I realized I wasn't alone. But my seepage was in no way large enough to clean up and the time I was going to get extremely sweaty in a moment I don't think one is worse than the other. Last night I went to the class again, and again with the jumping jacks. I believe I peed my pants. I didn't know what to do!! I excused myself to the restroom along with the others and realized that this was going to be an issue, how was I suppose to cover this one??? I didn't want to miss the class nor did I want to go back in and get my water bottle and look like a pussy (like I couldn't work out anymore!!). I was so fearful of 1 people seeing that I peed my pants and 2 that I wimped out when I was so proud of myself for keeping up my first week. So I did the 'ol put TP in your underwear and hope for the best. I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror before going back to class and as my sweatshirt was tied around my waist you could not see a thing. I finished the class with everyone else and when I got home realized that my sweat had covered up the wet mark at the crotch of my pants--now they were completely soaked! I have learned a valuable lesson though--next week I will wear a pad.

Missing Thang

This a total bummer of a post. It is going to be my tiny violins playing a sad tune but as I have explained before, you, dear audience, are my whipping boy therefore you get the opportunity to hear my verbal vomit. Here goes. A really good friend of mine has now returned to rehab and I am sad. Let me preface this vent with how our relationship began. As a junior in high school I found that all of my friends had chosen to experiment with heavy drugs (I plead the 5th) and sleep with Southern Utah University football players. I was not the goody two shoes type but I had seen what addiction did to people and didn't even want to experiment and far too many of my friends were blessed with babies before graduating high school. Because I didn't join I found myself sitting at home alone many a friday night and I was sick of it. My little sister (who is 19 months younger, but 2 years behind me in school) and I ran around with the same crowd but her two closest friends (S and C) were akin to us and chose not to sample college boys---they were so kind as to let me join in with them. So the weekends were us 4 girls being transported by my boyfriend (now my hubbie) to his guy friends parties. Good times! After high school I attended the fore mentioned SUU but was living at home and wanting to at least move into my own place. I had stayed friends with S and C and suggested it to them and my sister, Day. Day and S were going to hair school and weren't ready for the jump but C was. She and I moved into a 2 bedroom basement apartment together and had the best times of our lives. C ended up having a son who is 2 years older than my oldest and they are best friends. C ended up marrying a childhood friend of mine who has become a really good friend of my hubbies. C later had twin daughters who are 2 years older than my youngest yet the 3 of them love playing together--in fact I hosted a play date today. C became addicted to prescription pain medication and it almost killed her and I lost my good friend. I only talked to her when it concerned our kids or hubbies but did not spend time with her as we always had done. C hit rock bottom, tried to kill herself and was admitted to a mental hospital to later be transferred to a rehab. C came home almost 9 months ago back to her old self and I was sooooo happy. We had a girl party and caught up on old times, we spoke on the phone together, we sat and chatted about nothing and then one day I noticed that she was far more outgoing than natural. Next I noticed slurred speech and next thing I know she tells me in between uncontrollable sobs that she screwed up and was caught by her mom and hubbie--she was going to have to leave again BUT----- SHE told me this time and she told me before she left. Last time I got the news second hand after it was a done deal. I am so sad now. I have lost my friend again and no, she cannot have contact with the "outside" until she is detoxed so it will be at least a week then I have to wait for her to contact me. She has gotten stronger than the last time and the slip up statistics are totally against her but I know she can kick this shit. I hope so, I miss her.