Wednesday, January 25, 2012

TMI 2 Soon?

Ever since I got married I have found myself sharing little snippets of privy information to anybody that will listen, even though they should probably should be kept private.

Like, for instance, the guy bagging our groceries probably doesn't want to know that the Fiber One cereal we bought is now indispensable because it keeps me doing the deed regularly, though still not when I'm on vacation. Or in a public place. I've even turned into that girl who doesn't mind changing into or out of her swimsuit when she's in the RB locker room. Just as long as no one makes eye contact. I think it's due to the fact that the majority of my conversations are with Jason so I just assume that if Jason wants to hear it, everyone does.

All that being said, I'm about to share something with you that I never thought I would an hour ago. I give full disclosure that you might never look at me the same again.


Early this morning I had that kind of awakening start where your eyes pop open and nothing else on you moves, your head is completely awake but your body is still kind of asleep. Usually this happens when I remember things I have to do in the day. Not good kind of things like "Oh it's Christmas morning!" but the kind of things like "That project I have known about for months but I have done zero work on is due today!" Waking up like this is usually the start to a frantic morning running on adrenaline and morning breath, but was probably the only reason I passed fourth grade. There's a really good story there, but I'll save it for a later date.

Anyway, this morning's early wake up call wasn't due to a forgotten assignment, and it definitely wasn't due to presents waiting under a tree, I thought I was peeing.

My eyes popped open and I thought to myself, "am I peeing?" and then I told myself, "no, you can't be peeing, you're not on the toilet." Instead of having a shoulder angel and a shoulder devil, my subconscious is made up of a worrier who likes everything perfect and thinks it's the end of the world if it's not, and the other half has the general disposition of someone who has smoked the ganja root (that's a real thing, right?) all their life and doesn't get worked up about anything. It's kind of like the mayor from the Nightmare Before Christmas.
Fortunately, my scary frown face was the own who won the rest of my body over and I quickly sprung out of bed to find out that, sure enough, I was peeing. Real pee. In my bed. At 22.8 years old. With the man I'm most sexually attracted to lying next to me. 

So I run to the bathroom to try to get some of that real pee actually in the toilet, you know, where it's supposed to go. But then I'm sitting on the toilet and I start to actually process what happened. It went a little something like this: "I have pee underwear around my ankles, I have pee on my legs, I have pee on the bed, there's pee everywhere, the pee will never stop, I'm a pee girl, all I do is pee..." That's about when I let out a sound somewhere in between a moan and a dry sob which caused Jason to say, "Alex...?" 

Up until Jason spoke words, I kind of thought that I would be able to clean up this whole mess and wake up beside him like the full grown adult that I was last night. But as soon as I realized that he was awake I knew that I would have to face this catastrophe head on. That's when I started to fall apart. 

I don't think it was so much that I was embarrassed of wetting the bed, obviously I'm putting all this information on the old world wide interweb, (bet you wished I was protesting SOPA now) I think it was more the fact that I have always prided myself on having an ironclad bladder. When I was little, I was potty-trained so fast my parents actually thought I was autistic (there were other reasons too...). And, besides one incident at a haunted house in middle school, I really have no memory of having accidents down there. 

Until now. So I started to freak out. Telling Jason he couldn't come in the bathroom, jumping in the shower, yelling about how disgusting I am, frantically scrubbing any surface, telling Jason he'll never love me again, practically sobbing that I would be afraid to ever go to sleep ever again, you get the picture. 

Throughout it all, Jason was a champ and was trying to console me with his saged wisdom from his bedwetting past. You see, Jason was on the other spectrum of bladder control that I was, and he was unfortunate enough to wet the bed well past when it was adorable. So he had years of experience to know how to handle the situation. I, on the other hand, was still an emotional wreck who thought her body was falling apart. 

Even though there were some tears and Jason had to tell me almost every good thought he's ever had about me, I did end up getting back in bed and letting him spoon me, despite my many warnings that I may lose all control and pee on him. I have no idea why I wet the bed. Maybe because I was really cold when I was falling asleep, or because I was super tired, but the lesson I've learned is that sometimes you have to do really gross things in order to find out how much the people around you truly care about you. 

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Sexy Cougar Kittens

Believe it or not, my new enthusiasm for eating better (aka less) and working out more was not really prompted by the guilty resolutions made on the first, nor was it from the fact that being married just for 6 months has already started to make me soft, it was Planet Earth.

Because I work from home, it's easy to get distracted as I madly type away each day. So I keep Planet Earth running in the background so that I don't get too stir crazy, even though it means that I have to hide behind my laptop anytime a predator actually catches its prey. The only exceptions are the dolphins. I always root for them.

But watching about all these animals who don't eat for months at a time because they're hibernating and such made me realize that typing for 8 hours a day while lounging in my blankets is probably not too different from the hibernation of the Polar bears in their ice cave, (we rarely turn our heat on) yet I feel the need to eat 3-5 meals a day.

Since any of my plans to eat less usually involve me yelling at myself like Liz Lemon before she goes to a party where she doesn't know a lot of people, I decided to up the ante on how often I drag myself out of our house. Or even out of the TV room. So I signed myself up for this triathlon.

This is how I found myself at the BYU gym in the Smith Fieldhouse.

As soon as I walked in I couldn't believe how out of place I felt. Not because some of the machines absolutely mystify me, (I have a rule that if I can't figure them out by walking by them then they're not worth my time) but because the whole situation felt like a middle school dance.

All the girls seemed to be clumped together and trying to look cooler than they actually felt, and the boys were kind of wandering around hoping that they weren't the shortest ones there.

I was trying to do everything I could to make sure people could see my ring, not because I was worried anyone would be picking up on me, (if you saw how much my entire head sweats when I work out then you would know that I wasn't worried about that) but for the same reason I wanted to wear my 2002 EFY shirt or get my degree tattooed on my forehead: to show people I'm old!

Listening to the girls on the ellipticals to my left recap their first semester of freshman year just made me so happy to be done with that phase of my life. Don't get me wrong--I LOVED freshman year. Probably too much. I met three of my best friends that year (one of them I now share my bed with), I never cared about when I went to sleep, classes were more about meeting people than learning things, and don't even get me started on the glories of Dining Plus, but all good things must come to an end.

And as the girls next to me were constantly looking over their shoulder to make sure guys noticed how well their Nikes matched their gym shorts I just wanted to lean over and tell them that they were both getting sweaty butt cracks.

But it wasn't just the girls either, there were guys there in Sperrys and V-necks with more mousse in their hair than I've cumulatively used in my lifetime. And if they weren't hipster boys on the treadmill they were muscle-men that looked around the entire gym after finishing a set as if expecting a round of applause.

I suppose this phase of life is just like anything else that comes and goes; as soon as you're not wearing butterfly clips and jeans with holes in them you start wondering why you ever did in the first place. Can't wait for 5 years from now when I think I'm an idiot for ever writing this post.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Are You There Blogger? It's Me, Alex...

Usually, when I don't blog for almost a year, I start the rebirth post with a sappy "Forgive me blogger for I have sinned, it has been yada yada days since my last post..." type of apology to the anonymous blogging world and, of course, an iron-clad promise that I'll do better next time.

But I decided I'm not going to do that today. Instead, I'm going to start with a silent pat on my own back and a "you're welcome" to absolutely no one in particular.

Although I'm not going to apologize, I do feel like I have to do somewhat of a recap of the last... 8 months? that I've been ignoring this blog. Plus, I just did my annual camera to computer picture upload so I've suddenly got all these memories that I have to archive.

P.S. these will not be done in chronological order because I'm not a machine.

I made one of the most platypus-like faces known to mankind. Oh, I also ran a marathon.

We watched the most epic, and last, installment of the Harry Potter movies. Stay tuned for when Jordyn Canady and I remake the whole series into movies that actually do the books justice!

I went on a honeymoon! Of which this is one of the only pictures. Since I can't fully document it I'll just say, it was beautiful, we got tan and ate a lot of beans.

Our honeymoon tour spanned from Provo to Phoenix to Mazatlan to Portland to Island Park to Provo and since Jason's mom was nice enough to load us up with a ton of house stuffs, we had a most epic Budget truck ride from Portland on. Jason is pictured because he did most of the driving.

We celebrated my third favorite holiday with a totally legit pumpkin carving fest. Thanks to some overachiever on pinterest, we even carved SANDVIK in the back of it.

We were murderers!!! Well we went to a murder mystery party anyway. My character was this awesome heiress who was also a bootleg driver who knew how to handle a Tommy-gun. Jason was a sexy gambler who ran the bootlegging business. Needless to say, our characters also had a steamy romance.

We got a Kinect and Jason got a little too competitive and completely smashed the light fixture. With his head. So we spent one of our first nights in our new house cleaning up glass off the carpet and out of Jason's flesh.

 Oh, and I got married to my favorite person.
 Which is most likely the best thing that's ever happened to me.