GOOOOAAAAALLLL!!!

     All it took was Spain to destroy Italy in the Eurocup final 4-nil for me realize I haven't had a goal in awhile. The commentator made sure of that. Four times in 90+ minutes he yelled at me to find a "GOOOOAAAALLL". Or maybe he was just really excited for Spain. Sure, I still need to find a job, maybe a few hobbies to pass some time, but I don't have a solid "this is what I strive for" kind of goal. I make an awful lot of attempts at things; cook new foods, painting Super Mario characters with oil paints, jam on my guitars, but there's no more competition in my life, which, for an ex-all-star high school athlete (that I like to imagine myself as being), it can make things kind of boring.
     I played basketball and tennis growing up, having spurts of hatred for either or both sports, then realizing they were something I loved and would get back into them.  They were the two things in my life I could really be cocky about and follow through. I don't often brag about much, but when it came to the basketball court, I could tell you I was good and shot like a man and then prove it. And I don't think it was because I was good at basketball, I think it was because I was so competitive. I loved beating people, not physically of course (maybe throw a bow sometimes), but via jump shots, layups, free throws. It didn't matter what we were doing, so long as I beat you.
     In recent years I've realized I'm not that great at board games. I've lost Monopoly, Battleship, Yahtzee, and Apples to Apples the past few times I've played, and only my sisters and my boyfriend truly realize how little fun it is for me to lose. I'm a firm believer that most losses can be leveled with a good 30 minutes of silent treatment or a hard 4 minutes of complaining about the rules to either cry "Muligan!" and get another turn, or give the other person the opportunity to apologize for winning.
     So, here I am, a recent 26 year old realizing my chances of playing competitive sports is dwindling and my forever doomed fate of losing and complaining about board games is upon me.
     I can accept this fate. I'm alright with being the loser of Life (pun!). But that still doesn't satisfy my inner athlete (I say inner, because I may have gained a few pounds the past month and you have to poke my belly pretty hard to find any ounce of muscle).
     I can't think of a good transition, so let's talk about my older sister Savannah. From a distance, she's the quiet one of the 3 of us sisters. But if you watch old home videos, she's obviously the loudest and sought all kinds of attention during our theatrical performances in our living room and never aloud me, who played the family dog in many of our plays, a chance to even bark. And she did it again. She got well-deserved attention the past few weeks for the build up of her first half-marathon. She ran the Seattle Rock-N-Roll half, which, from what she told me, sounds like I'd get distracted at every mile and try to stop and dance to all the live music. Still, she did something all older siblings strive to do and that's to be the first to do something.
     And like the good older sister she is, she set the standard and invited anyone who wants to give it a try to run the half-marathon with her next year. What a coincidence! An open invitation to train for a half-marathon just as the Eurocup commentator was yelling at me! Gee, this blog must have a purpose!
     I wanted to have some sort of televised announcement comparable to when Lebron left the Cavs a few years ago, but ESPN was airing Sportscenter continuously for 4 hours today, so they didn't have any air time for me. So, here's my attempt at a goal. I've been running nearly everyday for the past 2 weeks, and I think it's high time I participate in some sort of K race. I no longer live in Kansas City, so all those cool 5K's and 10K's I had heard about aren't going to be worth driving 4 hours to run. Wichita is only 30 minutes away and it'd give the town a chance to prove to me it's not hillbilly and western Kansas.
     I've already looked through a great Wichita running website (www.runwichita.org) and have found a few runs to strive for. The Dream  Big 5K in September, a Turkey Trot 10K in November, a Jingle Bell 5K in December, and my personal favorite that I may even have my boyfriend on board to run with me, The Zombie Apocalypse 5K Obstacle course just before Halloween. Zombies chase runners through a 3 mile obstacle course and if they grab all your flags hanging from your waist, you become a zombie! How great is that? All those dreams of running from zombies finally to come true, except no real threat of nibbling on a persons face, barring bath salt usage. And it's an obstacle course, which will help with my "but what do I think about while running?!" problem.
     These ol' guys will be running with me:

 And so begins my GOAL!!! of participating in the Rock-N-Roll half in Seattle with my big sister next summer. But, I still don't know what I'll think about while running that distance AND I'm worried I really will stop and listen to all the music at each mile. All issues I will eventually sort out along the running path.
     
     
     

Challenge ACCEPTED!

     Today, just after 10am, my boyfriend Jake was oddly munching on a chicken fettuccine frozen dinner. He claimed he needed to eat lunch before he left for work at 11. He had also just eaten breakfast, because, well, he always eats breakfast. And he made a peanut butter and jelly for his afternoon break. He eats. A lot. So, hopefully, one of these post will eventually be an amazing, homemade meal by me! But this post is diving into my creativity and skill of parody. So, here it goes. 

   September of 2009, I found an acoustic guitar, out of tune, in all it's glory, hidden in the nook of my parent's attic. They had bought it for my sisters and I years before in hopes we'd pick up a hobby. Obviously, it didn't quite work. But at that time in my life, I had just returned from my great adventure in Europe and had hit a dead end of sorts. Kind of a quarter life crisis where I had accidentally picked up a habit of spending my money at bars on gin and sins and PBR's instead of something to challenge my mind. I was working in the produce department of a Dillon's (or as the locals called it, "The Dirty D") and was waking up way to early for someone at the young and wild age of 23. I usually worked 6 days a week from 6 am to 3 or 4 pm. It was awful. While I loved working with produce (I'm the daughter of a grocery man), I didn't really like the hours. And when you get home at 2 or 3 am, a little intoxicated, it's hard to get out of bed at 5 am and actually do any kind of work. 

     So, there I was, in a rut, in need of something to jump out and really grab hold of my attention. And there it was, dusty, broken strings, incredibly out of tune, in need of someone to pick it up and show it some love. So, I packed up the guitar, who later earned the name Big Bessie, purchased a generic $20 cd-rom that "teaches you everything you need to know about guitar!" and began my journey into jamming. 

     I really have to be pushed to continue something. Someone has to keep kicking me in the shins and say, "Hey, you're good at this. Keep doing it!" so I don't get bored and quit. So, I found a guitar teacher. His name was Matt and he was a late-twenties, lived-through-the-grunge-era (I didn't mean to make that sound as if no one lived through it, just not Kurt Cobain...bad joke) kind of guy I needed to teach me, not just about how to play guitar, but how to really appreciate such an amazing instrument. If I ever play the guitar as well as this guy, I've made it. 

   He taught me classic rock, pop, 90's grunge, indie, and even a little bit of flamenco. I didn't just learn riffs and chords, I learned a hell of a lot about music; songs by The Beatles I'd never heard before, I listened to an entire Nirvana cd (I was kind of young and drawn into Nsync during those days, a dark time in my life), and pretty much every song by Tom Petty. It was an experience that really picked me up in such a boring time in my life. I continued lessons from 2009 up through October of 2011, when Matt had to retire at an early age because he and his wife welcomed an adorable baby into the world. So, you can imagine he became a bit too busy. 

   Alas, I too had to call it quits on jam sessions because of my recent move. But why did I quit? Why did I stop playing "Layla" as loudly as I could just to watch the people outside look around for that crazy noise that "I'm sure their kids are going to love" ("Back to the Future" reference)? Why did I keep all 4 guitars, Big Bessie (6 string acoustic), Artie (6 string electric Jake bought me), unnamed 6 string electric I bought in 2010, and Alf (the 12 string acoustic from the 70's) bagged up and under my bed?

  I have only one answer and I don't like to admit it, but I'm fairly lazy. If I'm not challenged to do something, I'm very content just sitting and watching weird shows about the Loch Ness monster on the Travel Channel (no, that has absolutely nothing to do with what's on my TV right now...maybe it does, though). 

  Back to this morning. On his way out the door, Jake looked at me, still pajama'd up and relaxing on the couch and made a very unsubtle attempt to motivate me. He pointed at Artie and said, "You can play your guitar today." 

"Sure," I replied, still enthralled with HGTV.

"You should write me a song!" He finally grabbed my attention.

"You want me to write a song?" 

"Yes! A rock ballad! You can serenade me when I get home at 7. You have 8 hours! You better get started."

He grabbed his keys, said his 'I love you's' and walked out the door. I'm sure he doesn't actually think I'm going to write him a song, but due to the fact that I'm still unemployed and already went to the gym, my list of things to do today is complete. It would appear as though I've got nothing left to do but write a rock ballad. 

    I know that the remaining 6 hours I have is not enough time, but I've already got the tune down (I'm borrowing Ben Kweller's "Run" as inspiration) now I just need to write some lyrics. Yeah, they'll be hilarious and probably not be super romantic, we can't all write about how "I'm the one who wants to be with you", can we Mr. Big? But I'll give it a shot for the day. Plus, Artie has been very lonely. He just needs me to pick him up, show him some love, and spend my day doing something more than napping and learning about Nessie. So, my attempt at jamming for hours begins, and perhaps it's the swift kick in the ass I need to jump back into a hobby I love and a good start to overcoming the unemployed laziness blues. Artie, I'm truly the one who wants to be with you. And deep inside I know you feel it, too (feeeeel it tooo!) 

Thanks, Mr. Big. 

Moving on Down to the South-Central Side

Unemployed Log: Day 15

          I haven't slept well due to my constant afternoon napping. I've found my best dance moves occur at 11:30pm when doing dishes and I'm getting really good at timing my weekday dinners with Wheel of Fortune. It's been a long 15 days. How those slackers who collect unemployment or live off their parents and do nothing all day baffles me. How can you do this?! I'm bored out of my mind and most of my 2 weeks out of a job have been spent unpacking and exploring the new city town I've moved to. And, yeah, the exploring didn't take long, but the unpacking did. Setting up house, rearranging the kitchen, re-rearranging the kitchen when Jake (my boyfriend and new roommate) gives me a 'is she really putting that there?' look. He has organizational issues. We're working on that.
          There is nothing that I need and desire more than routine. I thrive when placed in situations I do every day. This sitting around, move only when I have to lifestyle is annoying. And it's been storming all day, which isn't new to Kansas, but it definitely derails any plans I had to get out of this house. I wanted to wash my car or go for a bike ride. I really just wanted to stop sitting and cleaning and unpacking and doing these things that need to be done. Priorities stink.
          So, with the thunder pounding, lightening striking, rain pouring, I've found a some-what exciting venture: to actually blog. And I'm not going to blog about how bored I am, I promise. This is the only one. I'd like to start accomplishing things on my bucket list, or just my everyday list. I want to cook more, grow my own herb garden, paint, write, read all those books I bought in college but sparknoted for the exams, I want to do all those little things I've always wanted to do, but found excuses not to do them.
         I want to ride my new-old bike. It's a rusted, 1980's purple road bike that Jake and I bought from an old lady down the street. Her husband even threw in the extra back wheel if it needed replaced. Twenty bucks. It was a steal! And I want to ride it around town. This small, hippie town. I need to raise the seat,  then add a basket, and buy a polka-dot summer dress to complete the Zooey Deschanel-classy hipster feel, but ride it, I will!
        I want to document all these cool things I decide to do. I'll take pictures, I'll blog about it, I'll do all I can to inspire anyone who reads this to try out new things. To make time for all those small adventures that no one makes time for. Those little hobbies that make the long work weeks seem somewhat worth it. I'm going to try my best to make up for the past few years of working and not taking time to really try something. I'm young, so I'm told, and have years left, so I'm told. What better time to start digging through all these wonderful hobbies, volunteer opportunities, and goals that I've always wanted to try.
      So, Here it goes.



(I'm not actually doing anything tonight, because it's storming. So, maybe just check back soon for updates.) :)

    

               

Oh, hey Blog. It's been awhile.

Well, I'd say nearly a year and a half is well enough of a break that I could probably start blogging again. If not for me, then for my dad who, every time I visit home, reminds me how much he likes to read my updates. The only thing really keeping me from blogging is that I can never really think of anything interesting enough to write about. My life is just interesting enough that I can fill the 140 character void on Twitter and maybe even come up with a snarky enough Facebook status to make people laugh. But an entire blog? Maybe I'll just ramble off topics that have recently been brought up in my life and see what I can come up with.
Growing up: Finally! At 25 (almost the dreaded 26, come summer)! I managed to put that off for quite awhile. Moving to England after college, working silly jobs when I got back. But now, I have a job that has no advancement whatsoever, where I get yelled at on a daily basis. But it's 9-5 five days a week and I have health insurance. I also have a boyfriend who actually takes me into consideration when planning the future. It's all big kid stuff, and I feel as though I've adjusted fairly well. But the change seems to really be taking effect within the next 5 weeks.
I've lived in Lawrence, KS since 2005 (with that small bout of the travel bug in 2008-2009 when I was in Europe for 7 months). Regardless, it's been a good 6 or so years in a college town that I can't seem to say 'goodbye' to.
When I say 'good', I really mean amazing, of course. It's the hometown of the Jayhawk, mostly, but I've also taken part in many of the city's eccentric activities. The Busker festival, where street performers line Massachusetts street and juggle fire balls, or shove knives down their throats, and twist and bend metal. They walk on glass, tear phone books in half, and make balloon animals for all the kids. And then there's the more classic townie happenings, like the Saturday morning flea markets, buying fresh bread from Harvest Bread Co., riding my bike along the trails out to Clinton Lake, celebrating amazing basketball seasons....oh. that last one? Really is something we get to do a lot.
I was born in 1986, and I've been a Jayhawk, not since birth, but since conception, which I realize is a gross thing to say. But I can hold my own in a conversation about Hawk basketball. I had a crush on Ryan Robertson before I even knew about Justin Timberlake. My high school crush was Nick Collison, who now plays for the OKC Thunder (more on him and a restraining order in my foreseeable future later). I cried harder over NCAA losses than breakups, and I used to watch a VHS of the '88 championship before bed when I was 10. When I was 14, I told a grown man that it wasn't Jauque Vaughn that played in '88, it was Scooter Barry. Idiot. I loathed Roy Williams for leaving, but loved Bill Self for taking over. When people try to tell me "wait until football season" I say, "Why? It's all about basketball....Idiot."
Now, back to Nick Collison. I will embarrassingly admit to making a build-a-bear in high school and naming him Nick-Nick. I will also admit that I've been the number 4 for almost every basketball team I've played on. I cried after Collison lost the NCAA finals to Syracuse in 2003. And I was overjoyed when his number was hung in the rafters in Allen Fieldhouse. But it's been quite a few years since I've really thought about my old crush (he's old. 31, I believe). Last year, my boyfriend Jake and I made it a point to watch OKC through the NBA finals and I was reminded how much I love him (Jake and Collison).
Jake, a future pharmacist of America, will be graduating in May, passing some tests (knock on wood), and getting hired on as a full-time pharmacist with the grocery store chain Dillon's. We found out a month ago that in Kansas, jobs near big cities are few and far between. So, Jake's destination? Ark City, KS! 10 miles (ish) from the Oklahoma border! However, the things we've heard about Ark City aren't super enticing, so we've managed to find a home to rent in nearby Winfield, KS. Jake asked me what I thought about moving with him. I, of course, emphasized a strong "I go where you go" reply without the cheesy "Titanic"-you-jump-I-jump-can-we-see-this-movie-in-3D?! feel to it. So, here we are. A mere 5 weeks from moving away from the city I've loved every day since I've been here. Maybe I haven't loved the jobs, but the fact that I can get a good marg, beer, or double tall gin and tonic, just about anywhere after a tough day as a lowly pharm tech, makes living here all the better.
So, I'll quit my job, pack my things, invest in a relationship, experience small-town life, and, hopefully, become a regular at a bar where everybody knows my name. I'll start to know what 'season' it is for farmers, be able to tell the difference between a tractor and--some other farm equipment, and I'll probably buy a gun of sorts. I'll find things to do, find a job (hopefully a career), oh, and probably drive an hour and a half to watch-yep- the OKC Thunder and my love Nick Collison. I never knew if I could fully get into NBA, but two Jayhawks (Collison and Aldrich) being on the same team will certainly grab my attention. It helps that they're good, too.
And every time I get scared to leave, this afternoon for example, Jake's there to reassure me we'll be just fine. We'll make our rental house a home, we'll have a washer and dryer, but no dishwasher, we'll unpack all our things-his video games, my guitars, we'll have two of everything and no matching dishes, and, yeah, we'll be just fine. AND he promised me a puppy one day. Actually, 2 puppies, because he wants a bulldog named Spike, and I need a mutt named Gromit to help me invent mechanical trousers and visit the moon for cheese (you know, like the movies "Wallace and Gromit"?). But the main point, my avid readers (dad), is that we'll be just fine.
......even better if we beat Kentucky tomorrow night. :) ROCK CHALK and JAYHAWK.

Only One Angelfish in the Sea

Way down in the deep blues of the warm, tropical portions of the Atlantic Ocean live French Angelfish. These fish are beautiful; a blue and black hue with specs of yellow all along their sides. They spend their days swimming along reefs near Florida, the Bahamas and on into the Gulf of Mexico. One of the most beautiful fish, and yet so dumb. Fish are dumb. Some fish only have 8 seconds of lasting memory. So, how can something so pretty be so stupid? I asked myself that very question after my last relationship. And I wasn't referring to the guy.
Humans aren't that romantic. Not any that aren't drawn up by Disney, anyway. I can look at the Angelfish, that stupid, stupid Angelfish and find more things beautiful about them than most people I've met. Angelfish mate for life. They can find one, special fish, who happens to look like all the other fish in the reef, spend every day of their lives with them, hunt for food, and travel the waters together. These "stupid" fish happen to be living the life I want. Who wouldn't want a life in the tropics? Maybe a cooler of Corona's at my side and being with someone I actually want to see on a daily basis. The next man that comes along that actually convinces me I need to see him everyday and talk with him and swim around the reefs with him and hunt for smaller fish to eat, that's the man that will convince me that maybe I'm not just another pretty, but stupid fish in the ocean.
If I ever meet the person that came up with the saying, "plenty of fish in the sea" I might slap him. Not only did my dad say that to me when I was crying in my bed after my 4th grade boyfriend broke my heart, but I also just hate the saying. I don't just think of myself as an ordinary pet goldfish or a trout or salmon on the grill with a slice of lemon. No. Not me. I am an Angelfish. And Angelfish don't mess around. Literally. They don't date around. They find their mate, stay by their side, and even after their spouse dies, they don't move on and date another fish. They swim the waters alone, fully aware that what they had with that one other fish was something special.
What I don't understand about the Angelfish is how they find their fish-mate. Is it a scent? Is it the way they chew their food? Maybe the curves of their dorsal fin? Or maybe it's the way their gills move when they breathe? I have absolutely no idea. And this haunts me in everyday life. Not the Angelfish part, but the how to find a mate part. Now, I can listen to Diana Ross and my mom over and over and no matter how much someone tells me I "can't hurry love, no you just have to wait!" it's not going to matter. You can't tell a girl raised on imagination and Disney movies that nobody's going to save her from distress for awhile.
But as anxious as I am to meet someone and have everything my parents have, my sisters have, my grandparents have; I'm doing pretty well by myself. And maybe that's how you find your Angelfish. You have to have your fish in a row, so to speak. Have your life together, your bad experiences behind you, lessons learned, and that's when you can welcome someone special into your life. Then maybe, you won't just be another fish in the sea, but you'll be a fish that knows exactly what they want...you'll be an Angelfish.


Other animals that mate for life? Gibbons, Termites, Swans, Black Vultures, Wolves, Albatrosses, Doves, and Schistosoma Mansoni Worms.

Oops.

First off, I'd like to apologize for all 3 of you that read my blog and were half-expecting to see my bucket list about 5 months ago. I'm extremely sorry! So, with a new inspiration to actually blog from time to time, here is my list:

Find my own, personal favorite song.
Make a hole-in-one.
Go fishing, eat what I catch.
Ride a bull (mechanical accepted).
Camp on the beach.
Donate/Volunteer for a cause I truly believe in.
Attend Mardi Gras in New Orleans.
Celebrate the Summer Solstice.
Go Star Gazing.
Go ghost hunting (with the bestie, Dave).
Ride a rollercoaster.
Go to a bar and speak with an accent the entire night.
Get a tatoo.
Create a popular blog.
Visit the land of my ancestors.
Make and sell 100 greeting cards for different occasions, donate the money made.
Make a scrapbook/memory box filled of my Europe adventures.
Earn a Girl Scout badge.
Ride a Greyhound Bus.
Save a life (any kind, any way).
Catch the bouquet at a wedding.
Throw a capital B, capital A party.
Karaoke.
Play my guitar in front of people.
Go to Vegas, gamble, preferably win.
Catch Fireflies.
Have a destination wedding.
Set/break a Guinness World Record.
Pick fresh fruit...in Chile (with the pops!)
Hit a half-court shot.
Make it RAIN!
Cook my grandma's favorite recipes, turn it into a cookbook.
Find faith/religion.
Meditate once a day for a month.
Road trip through my home state of Kansas.
Attend all 4 Grand Slam tennis tournaments (Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon, US Open).
Snorkel
Remodel a house.
Try being a vegetarian for an extended amount of time (2 weeks-a month)
Mope-ed my way through Greece.
See Bob Dylan or Dolly Parton in Concert.
Meet a Spice Girl.
Visit Casablanca, Morocco (With all intentions to sit at a bar, drink gin on the rocks and say "Of all the gin joints in all the world, she walks into mine").
Join a gym.
Hitchhike/pick up a hitchhiker.
Visit 5 of the top zoos in the US.
Bike across Kansas.
Rent a limo for a night.
Rent a personal bodyguard for the weekend.
Get a metal detector, find something cool.
Have my palm read.
Send a message in a bottle, throw it out to sea.
Give an amazing toast at a wedding.
Finish writing my Grandpa's fight against cancer story.
Learn each of my grandparent's life stories.
Brew my own beer/make my own wine/or attempt sloe gin.
Get a Master's Degree.
Frame and hang my diploma.
Make a short film.
Have a picnic.
Spend a day building a sand castle.
Take dance lessons.
Learn to surf.
Play a really great April Fool's joke.
Participate in a Beer Pong tournament.
Have a windowsill garden of herbs.
Win a tennis tournament.
Run a 1/2 marathon.
Play gin rummy/bridge with old people.
Make friendship bracelets.
Construct a tire swing.
Study my astrological sign.
Attempt Fung-shui.
Learn about my car (change a tire, change the oil, etc..).
Own a pair of Jimmy Choos.
Live in New York.
See 100 classic films.
Ride in the side car of a motorcycle wearing goggles and a leather helmet.
Eat with chopsticks.
Create/Find my personal style.
Study Mixology.
Pick and can pears with my aunt.
Visit 7 World Wonders.
Go on a road trip with my mom to the largest Farmer's Market in the US.
Visit all 7 continents.
Read 100 works of classic literature.
Stay up for 24 hours doing only fun things.
Get on the Game Show Network.
Ride in a hot air balloon.
Take a cooking class.
Conquer a fear.
Visit all 50 states.
Go Cliff Jumping.
Swing from a rope into a lake.
Celebrate all holidays in one year, include the obscure.
Skinny dip.
Send birthday/holiday cards to friends and family.
See the Northern Lights.
Invent an alcoholic drink, give it an impressive name.
Yell "Drinks on me!" at a crowded bar...and be able to pay.

I have since: joined the LAC gym where I run and swim, Caught the bouquet and made an amazing Maid-of-honor speech at my bestie Maddy's wedding in Kentucky, I was forced to Karaoke with to "All the single ladies" with my little sister and my cousin, I built a tire swing in my back yard (yet have only used it twice), and I also made a memory box filled with my Europe souvenirs.

To those paying close attention, I also have create a popular blog on this list. Here's hoping I remember to update more often! :)

I hope this inspires a lot of people to make bucket lists! And I'll try post pictures of any more bucket list conquests in the future!

It's been a long while.

So, in an effort to carpe diem, I've decided to make my very own "Bucket List". I have a few things down, you know, things that aren't so epic that I'm redefining who I am, but good enough that I'll be satisfied with what I accomplish. Example: Ride a rollercoaster. It's a fear, and it needs to be beaten in the head. I have a list of about 15 things so far, and with the help of my roommate Adam, by Sunday, we'll have 100 things combined of things we want to accomplish before we die. It's pretty epic and I plan on keeping everyone up to date on my list. :) Enjoy the adventurous blogs to follow, and while you wait for mine to come around, make your own list of things you want to do before you die! My finalized list will be up around next week. Enjoy!
xo's, jill