White Christmas?

           As a kid, every year I went to bed on Christmas Eve hoping for snow. I used to wish so hard, I almost believed that I could will it to happen. Almost. As you can imagine, I had to split my wishes. Seriously, there was also the hope and excitement of  "mistakenly" seeing Santa, whilst going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. What?? It was worth the risk of no presents. I would rather have met Santa than gotten presents. Good thing I didn't tell my mom that, she might have called. That's right, she has a direct line! Heh, heh.
          Sliding back to snow. I would wake up, early, (duh) and before I even left my room, I would check for snow. Apparently I've always been a little 'hallmark'. Deal with it. I did this even if there was already snow on the ground Christmas Eve. I had to know if there was snow over night. I think it was more important than knowing if he ate the cookies, drank the milk, and gave the carrots to the deer. Don't get me wrong... had he not eaten, drank, and fed the deer, I probably would have been very worried about him, if not a little mad. Just sayin'.
           My Christmas' have always been good. I've been lucky. I love my family and I enjoy being with them at Christmastime. I know not everyone is technically family there, but to me everyone I see is my family. As the day goes on, more and more people come. And more and more dogs. Sometimes a new member is brought in- you know the new special someone in life. That is ALWAYS fun! Possibly not for him or her, but for the rest of us, it's great! Heh, heh. 
          My favourite parts are the stockings, watching other people open their gifts, and end of the night. Oh yeah... and the mashed potatoes with gravy. Best ever. The stockings are extra personal and in some ways especially thoughtful. Right, and often funny. The expressions on everyone's faces when they open their gifts are wonderful and candid. And the party after dinner, is relaxed, and full of the spirit of Santa.... he must leave some magic dust around. The magic that creates the mashed potatoes and gravy is purely mom's and dad's. Thanks guys. Still, with all this.... I always want snow. Why? 
           Is it possible I have some weird perversion for snow? Yes. But I don't think so. I am not upset if it doesn't snow. I am just extra excited if it does (that is not what I meant... I'm talking about snow people!). That is why this year I am a little disheartened that there is  scarce chance of snow here. I am in Spain. Not only is it not snowing in the Pyrenees, but I'm in Barcelona, by the beach. Not going to happen. Yet, I keep having a dream that I wake up Christmas morning and low and behold, there is snow on the beach! Now, I am a realist, but I gladly and sadly am also a dreamer. So, I know it will not snow. Nevertheless I hold on to the smallest teeniest weeniest ounce of hope that I can manage. Please, let some freak of nature make it snow. Or an unnatural, whimsical storm might work.
          This Christmas will be decidedly strange for me. I only want three very basic things for Christmas: snow, skype to work, and to magically be able to communicate brilliantly with my boyfriend's family (at least for the day). Too much? Possibly. Well, here's to hoping. The snow alone might make my day.
          So to everyone this holiday season... whether you celebrate Christmas or not, if you are an X-mas hater or lover, or if you just don't care one way or the other.... have some good times during the season. And may your wishes come true. Hopefully, you may have some laughs along the way.


kimbersfrog

Es lo que hay....

          Loosely translated: "It is what it is." I've learned many Spanish words since I have been here (and forgotten many). I have learned a lot of grammar (not that it is always evident in my speech, but no one's perfect). I have also learned quite a few expressions.
          Idioms are fun. They are interesting. I even get a little excited when I learn them (yes I know I'm a dork). I try to think of different situations I could use them in. Then I hope that a circumstance will properly present itself in which I can throw my freshly learned rhetoric into the conversation virtually unnoticed. 
          Ohhhh yes, if I do it right, no one will even notice. On the other hand, if I do it wrong, I could insult people. No, since it's me we're talking about here, I could probably inadvertently shame, abuse, snub, taunt, or proposition someone. Or even a group. Yeah, that's what she said! 
          The thing about colloquialisms is if you have the connotation just a hair off it can make a world of difference. Think about it. Let's say you just throw, "we're all in the same boat" into a conversation without a full grasp of its meaning. If you really were in the same general circumstances, then you just got lucky. Everyone is happy (well, no one's upset with you). But what if you had no hurdles to bear (you're "sittin' pretty" as it were), whilst everyone else you were talking to did? Maybe you understood the basic idea of the phrase, but thought it was more of a thing to say to empathize and let people know you were there for them. Your meaning is still good natured. However you would come off as an ass.
          This I worry about. Regularly.
          Lucky for me, along with my fear and moments of freezing (becoming mute suddenly- it's lovely, really), also comes that wonderful ability to embarrass myself with reckless abandon! This can actually help me. I'll say it again, lucky me! The muscles from my face down to my toes work with and against each other with a force I could never muster on purpose (I am sure it's attractive, not!). My body has the ability to express what is lacking in my Spanberish (heh,heh).
          So in addition to learning vocabulary, verb tenses, and grammar (which my brain insists on twisting like tape balls), I am learning little phrases here and there. The type that people use on a regular basis. The same way we use, "Of course," or "Seriously?" or "Gimme a break!" and so on. There are some things we say that are also said here. Love that!!! But there are other things that are so much a part of my suitcase full of expressions I don't know exactly what to say instead. Despite this, I press on. Heh, heh.
          Unfortunately once I find one that is so wonderful and perfect that I can't wait to use it..... I find I never have a chance to. I don't know why. It just seems to be my luck. I rarely have the chance to go hog wild and blurt out one of those bad babies! Heh, heh. One day. That's what I keep telling myself. One day.
          I believe I should just start saying them to myself while I am cleaning, shopping, cooking and the like. I've already started with 'joder' (under my breath of course, heh,heh). I need to get used to saying things like, "Por supuesto," or "En serio?!" and so on. For the moment, I keep studying, and am trying to fit these phrases into my Spanish thoughts (when I have them- which is freakishly often). And all I can say about my slow learning curve, embarrassing expressions, dorky enjoyment of language, and awkwardness here in general.... is: es lo que hay. My new favourite expression!

kimbersfrog




  

The germ freak inside....

          I should begin with a brief history. My father comes from a family that implanted the fear of germs into their heads. If this is what you grow up with, many things can seem gross and washing your hands a lot might be the least of your cleaning issues. My mother on the other hand, came from a household of the opposite mind.
          The example that best describes it is this: Whilst my mother finished up her last semester in college, my father lived with her parents. He really didn't want my grandmother making him lunch everyday (even if he couldn't cook a bit), because she and my grandfather were being so good to him. So at some point in the first two weeks he decided it was time to start making some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Oooo yeah! This my friends is quite a sacrifice, I will tell you. However this is not about my dad being a fair man. He got all the ingredients (so many there were, heh), but could not find the jelly. He asked my grandmother. She grabbed it out of the fridge. He opened it and at once noticed the mold. Almost as soon as he started the sentence ("Ummmm, there's some mold on this..."), my grandmother grabbed the jar. She said, "Let me see that." Then she got a knife, scraped it out, and promptly handed it back to him, saying, "There you go, good as new!" My father left horrified with nothing to do but eat it out of pure politeness. And probably avoid all peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in that house for a while.
          All my life I have had a mix of these two things. It is a good balance. I have however not gone untouched by the 'germ crazy'. I am definitely not a moldy food eater. It is a categorical fact that I wash my hands much too often. And what goes on in my head concerning germs is the most embarrassing and ridiculous germ crazy of all. That is what this is about.
          I was with my boyfriend on the beach the other night taking photos. I decided just to enjoy the fresh air, the sound of the waves, and watching his cute ass take photos from time to time (instead of taking any photos of my own). We did have to find a good spot to put his camera on first. He was playing with light and time for these specific photos. From this spot though what he would really need is a tripod. Neither of us has one. What he decided on was a garbage can. Great.
          He has no germs issues. In fact, when I am out and about and can not wash my hands, I don't worry about germs either. Okay it might cross my mind, but then it's gone. I think that's just a survival skill I've learned over years of public transport, planes, just living life. But then as I watched him set up my attention was monopolized, not by the sea, the sand or even his cute patootie.... but by the garbage can and the amount of it that was coming in contact with my boyfriend's clothes and hands. It's making me cringe now... a week later. Eeeek.
          I tried (repeatedly) to reason with myself. It's okay. No problem. I'm not touching it. But the other thoughts came in. And these thoughts are the killers. I can't even believe I'm sharing them. They go as follows..... 
           He will sit on the couch when we get home at some point. The couch I share with him. Will he wash his hands before making dinner? Is he going to touch my face when he kisses me? When he hugs me all my clothes will get garbageness on them. And so on.
           A bit irrational? Yes. Extreme? I would say so. So I kept telling myself, 'Just don't say anything when you get inside. Get over it . 'Noooo, problem. Right? All I had to do was use the tried and true method of mind over matter.... right? Right. 
          Is this what I did? Well, I tried. Vigorously. In my mind. But the nagging, no, gnawing, growing stress of the gross out factor and spreading of the germs all over the house overwhelmed me.
          I think what pushed me over the edge was when my sweet boyfriend came over and gave me a hug and kiss (with hands on face, by the way). What's worse, he was making sure I wasn't bored or too alone. He was being thoughtful and loving. I knew that. Nevertheless, all I could think about was the germs. Clearly I have a problem.
          Sadly, I didn't even make it the 2 minute walk home before I told him to make sure to wash his hands before making dinner. I did point out that I knew I was nuts. He agreed. I changed my outer layer of clothes when we got home. Luckily he did too, he favors pajamas at night... YAY for me! (Was that too enthusiastic?)
          My point? I don't remember. However, if you have anything strange and pervasive that invades your thoughts.... work on it. I'm still trying. Still I do think I will forever avoid moldy food. Just sayin'.

kimbersfrog
          

         
         

Cuddling- what you don't see in the movies....

          There are so many things that happen in relationships. The good, the bad, the sex (heh,heh) and the funny! The funny is what I'm talking about today. Oh, don't winge about it, I know you were hoping for the sex!
          If any of you out there watch cheesy movies (or have been forced to by your significant others), you have seen many cuddly moments. Cuddle moments are sweet. Both people look happy. They look completely comfortable, in all ways. There have been times that I secretly and embarrassingly have hoped for moments like these. Shut it!
          The things I never noticed until recently, is that no one ever talks about that part of their relationship. Maybe they don't think it's funny. I however do. Shocker. I recently have experienced a few of these moments. I would like to share.
          First I will go with spooning. As wonderful as spooning is for a short time, it can be uncomfortable for a longer period of time. That is not the funny part. There are several things that can become unseemly during this special time. And they have!
          One: If the person being spooned (the inside) farts. It was a surprise fart, what could I do? 
          Two: If the spooner (person in back) sweetly puts his arm around you and rests his hand on your stomach, you should be sure you don't have indigestion. The sounds your stomach were making (that you were hoping he wouldn't notice), now they are definitely noticed. And felt.
           Now I will move away from the bed. Cuddling on the couch whilst reading or watching t.v. seems so lovely doesn't it? But before we even worry about comfort, let's think about logistics. We have hurdles to cross.
           We have the length and width of the couch to contend with. Is there an ottoman, coffee table, two small tables, or nothing in front of the couch? Or are there only two love seats? As I cannot speak for anyone else I will just speak for me. I will also make this the last example, because it should be the focus. It's awesome.
           Our couch is of average length but very wide (which I very much enjoy). We have two small tables in front of the couch. That is the set up. The odd part is that although the couch is average length, it only has two cushions. If either of us want to sit straight up we need to sit smack in the middle of a cushion. If we don't mind sitting on an angle, slowly sliding into the crack.... well then we can sit closer to the other person.
          Sometimes I sit a little closer. And as a result crooked. I have done this more recently as it has gotten chillier and sharing body heat is always nice (for many reasons, heh). A week or so ago, I decided to put my head on my sexy man's lap. It just seemed natural. And honestly, my arm was in danger of falling asleep, in addition to a small pain in my cheek from lovingly leaning on his shoulder. (I am also pretty sure he was not overly comfortable in that position either, but was too nice to say so.)
          So there my head lays. His hand naturally resting alternately on my head and waist, gently. Just like a movie. Humffff. Then it started. Apparently his stomach makes noises like mine does when spooning. The big difference being that when your ear is right up against it, it is as if you are listening with your ear attached to a giant speaker. Vibrations and everything. I stuck with it though, his hand on my waist was so sweet . Then I noticed something else.
          First I noticed he was shifting a little here and there as if my head might have the weight of the entire earth to it. It's possible I come from a large headed family. Or maybe just one piece of my head was pointy and stabbing his leg. Or possibly my head was heating his nether regions to point in which he felt like they had been stuck in a sauna- but not in a good way. I have no way of knowing. Also I realized I could only see the edges of the t.v. screen and two feet. I like my boyfriend's feet don't get me wrong, but I need the English subtitles when I can't understand something that is said in Spanish. This occurs about half the time now. Sad but true.
          So there you have it. The unfortunate drawbacks of cuddling. There are so many more, yet I am sure to try again in different ways. And there are some cuddling moments that have been perfect. They however are not at all funny, but sweet, personal and comfortable. I am sure some of you can relate. If you would like to share, I would truly enjoy a story or two, if not I hope you get a laugh from mine!

kimbersfrog


   I must apologize for my lack of writing.... I am working on my new schedule.... be patient. Please.

It's not all bad....

          Truly. It's not. Good things remain even when you're flat broke. Everyone is a heartbeat away from being worse off than they currently are. What? Am I wrong? Well, then, shut it! Heh, heh. The trick is to look at the good things. Search them out if you must. I heard they like to hide (or so it seems).
          I, in no way, am implying that anyone should ignore the problems at hand. But I do believe that sometimes if we notice the good things we have, it makes it a lot easier to cope with the giant landfill of problems we have awaiting us... RIGHT NOW!
          I try not just to notice the good things, but really feel them. Otherwise they are just 'nice'. Not helpful. And by the way, this is not easy. A long time ago, I decided I did not like feeling depressed, and slowly I learned how to drag myself out of it, or keep myself from falling into it (depending on when I noticed, I am not always quick nor am I perfect. Surprised you right?!). I wish I could say there was an easy formula, and that it worked every time for everybody. But one, that would be a bold face lie (however if you believed me, I have a bridge to sell you.....). Two, everyone is different so it would have to change a little or a lot for everyone. For some, what works for me would be the antithesis of what would work for them. Three, even if it usually works, it won't always. We are human. I am human. But hey, if you come up with a cure all- call me, maybe I'll buy your bridge!
          I have veered slightly, so let me get back on track. Being strapped for cash is not fun. True enough. Especially when the economy is having a big ass snort laugh right in your face. Just sayin'. It's harder yet when there are two of you to worry about. I won't get into all the different worries, but there are many. And yes it makes everything hard. And the ease in which anyone could fall emotionally into oblivion is astounding. Almost tempting for some.
          However, some of these worries I have been through before. Those, for me, are the easy ones (well, at least as painless as baking brownies in an easy bake oven! hee,hee). Those are the ones I know how to navigate. The others not so much. Luckily some of the others can be put at bay. Not all though. And I am not an island. Now I worry about not just me and my situation, but also my man and our situation. It matters not that he is a grown man and can handle himself. We are a team, and I have his back. And he's got mine.
          Consequently, one of my coping skills is noticing those small things. You know what I mean, the sound of the ocean against the rocks at night once the traffic has stopped. The small moment of sun on a stormy day. Siestas!!!! Amazing home cooked meals (okay, my boyfriend is a magician in the kitchen), and home cooked meals can taste wonderful AND save money. Bonus! Even the things as small as being able to wear the pair of socks I really want to wear on the day I want to wear them (as opposed to having to wait a day because they are dirty). What I love socks!
          Yes, some of these sound cheesy. And some sound silly. Even so, they are all true. I could name many more but to do so would be pointless. Everyone has their own. I will say however that one of my favourites is the way my boyfriend makes me laugh. Yeah, yeah.... I am not looking for a sigh or smile here, it's just what works for me.
          And remember, your situation, mine, everyone's..... can always be worse than it is now. So freakin' enjoy what you can while it lasts! Sorry, had to do it.

Laugh, love, and smile damn it!

kimbersfrog 

There are times, that I am inappropriate.....

         Yes at times I can be, well a little inappropriate. And that, my friends might be an understatement. Don't get me wrong, I can be very polite even charming at times (although usually through humour or awkwardness). And there are plenty of occasions in which I am correctly connected to the situation I am in (I know it's shocking!). Those of you who know me can probably agree. Or not.
          I am only going to write about one of these improper behaviours. It follows me to this day. When I am with my family, it seems to work out just fine, because they are equally inept at controlling themselves in these situations. However, placing a friend in a situation like this with me, is not a good thing. Even, if I warn them ahead of time. The end result is generally a promise to never return with me again. Fair enough.
           I will start at the beginning. When my sister and I were young we periodically visited my father's mother on our own. Only a few times. On those occasions, she brought us to church. I was 5, my sister was about 3 and 1/2. And we didn't know anything about church at the time.
          We were asked to pretend we were singing and to be very quite. We tried. We were actually fairly successful. However a lot of nudging went on about those fruit basket hats the women were wearing. I mean really, how a hat that nests a bunch of plastic fruit (that by the way appears to be old dried or dead fruit) in it equals their love of god and all things sacred, I will never know. But back then, all I thought was they looked funny. My sister too.
          We were however, very quietly giggling and nudging each other. We really didn't want to make my grandmother angry. That was never a good thing. We managed quite well, until the singing started. Then everybody got up and then down on their knees. And again. And again. All throughout the song. Many of you know what I am talking about. As a kid, who had no idea what it was about, nor anyone who would explain it... well, we thought it was hysterical. All those weird hats, voices singing that were bad, good and all over the place, creaking chairs and weird ups and downs.... it was too much for us. Needless to say, we were reprimanded.
          Flash forward. I am an adult now. I had no idea I have a problem. I don't think it even crossed my mind that I would giggle. Really, being a child giggling uncontrollably in church due to lack of understanding is completely acceptable. Why would I ever think it would happen as an adult?
           I will skip all the little ones that are not as entertaining. The brief episodes of stifled giggles, as an adult that should have clued me in to the fact that I might have a problem. You might think it is because I am not religious. Maybe that I am purposely being disrespectful. This is actually not the case. I am not traditionally religious, but I do have very strong beliefs. I also am very envious of those who have a religion that they can fully believe in. I wish I could find one. I have not yet. I am however truly happy for those who have.
           Back to the story. The next big blooper was in Edinburgh, Scotland. I enjoy live choir music on the holidays. I rarely go and see it, as you might imagine. A friend of mine suggested a few of us go on Christmas Eve to listen to some. There was a really old church that had Christmas choirs several times a day the entire week before Christmas. Apparently it sounded amazing in this church. So we went. I warned my friends of my... condition. They ignored me. Fools. (I love you all)
           I was able to not laugh at the fruit hats. I thought that bode well! Although I did wonder if the people I saw when I was a kid were still wearing theirs. It was truly beautiful. Then the organ. Amazing sound. The choir was up in the front (we couldn't see them because we were all the way in the back). They started some low level music with just their voices. Harmony if you will. Beautiful. Then, a man (I have no idea what station in the church he was or wasn't) all in white stepped to the back of the aisle, even with us. He was giant. Truly GIANT. And skinny. All this was accentuated by his long bright white robe, and long skinny face. Then without looking at anyone but the choir ahead....a loud, deep voice let out a very long note. It carried from the back of the church to the front and back again. And it was almost hollow, yet somehow robust. And I don't know, but for some reason it struck me funny! Of course.
          Was it the bright white mixed with the dark interior of the church? The tininess of the man mixed with his grandiose stance and huge voice? Maybe it was the deepness of the voice that shocked you yet soothed you at the same time. I don't know. But it was enough to make me giggle. I was trying to be good though. So, I silently bowed my head to hide my cheeky smile and tried to contain my laughing fit to simple shoulder shaking. Even that, I was able to somewhat control. There was no constant shoulder shaking. Then I managed to quell the amusement, and regain control of myself. I was quite impressed with myself. For a while.
          Then came the group singing. I don't truly know what was wrong with me, but I didn't expect this. Apparently I had a stupid attack. So we're singing along quietly. The ladies with the hats too. I'm doing fine. Shocking right. Until my friend starts switching keys. Whenever he couldn't hit a note, he'd switch to a lower register so he wouldn't go off key, and visa versa. This... struck me as funny. It might strike you as funny too if you knew him. So then the shoulder shaking and tittering began. Sporadically controlled. Then the tall man's voice came again. Harder to control.
           This is about the time I noticed I had infected one of my friends with my amusement. Poor girl. She had noticed. She is a sweet girl and quick to smile and laugh. Unfortunately for her, she noticed my barely contained chuckling. And now another friend shot us both a look. Of course this made it funnier. Very mature.
           Low and behold, now another of us was laughing. So the singer and the shooter of the looks were not amused, but the rest of us were losing our ability to be in control of ourselves. Now in all fairness, everyone else was able to get themselves in control better than me. I know, you're surprised right?! Oh, no, you're not? Well, no worries. Heh, heh.
           Unfortunately for them, I kept starting right back up again. I wasn't trying, in fact quite the opposite. That just made it worse. Needless to say, by the end my stomach hurt from trying to contain myself, I had tear marks, and sparkling giant eyes of amusement mixed with fear! When we got outside, all my friends swore they would never go to church with me ever again. I wouldn't either if I were them.
           Now, I only go for weddings and funerals. The last two weddings I was at were with my immediate family. The difference is vast. My sister and parents and I all have this problem. Usually, it has more to do with things we ourselves are doing than what is going on around us. Still, it is completely inappropriate. And though I may be embarrassing myself, at least I am doing it with people who are embarrassing themselves of their own accord.


So I apologize for making my friends laugh in church. (But it was weirdly funny) And to all the church goers I truly mean no disrespect. I am not perfect and that's all there is to it.

kimbersfrog

Heh,heh. You can't be pretty all the time...

          I'll start by saying, my mother HATES it when she has to take photos of me. Or maybe I should say the results of those photos. And in all fairness, she can't get a good photo. I always have some weird, funny, and usually ugly or at least scary expression on my face. I am uncomfortable with photo taking. But even when I am caught unaware, somehow I manage to put Jim Carey to shame! I will show you a couple examples:

 As you can tell these are pretty bad. They are not the absolute worst but I can not find those at the moment. I think these will suffice.


          Now during these moments, I have no idea how ridiculous, scary, ugly and/or funny I look. This is probably good. My face is expressive, what can I say! I think my parents put it best when they said they didn't actually have to watch the movie if I was in the room. They could just watch my face and they would know what was happening.
          I am lucky in some ways. I don't tend to spend much time worrying about how I appear to others, especially when it comes to being pretty or not. In fact I think that can be a hindrance to people really knowing who you are. That aside, I have finally found a man who loves and likes me for my odd, normal, crazy, strange, opinionated, etc. personality. Not what I look like. This is a whole new thing for me. Even better, I love him back! The lucky part, is he thinks (as deluded as he may be- remember I am only a year away from 40), that I am beautiful! I let him believe!
           It's amazing really. Men can say, 'You're pretty.' or 'You're beautiful.' It might feel nice briefly, but if it doesn't feel like they mean it, or it feels like it might be for their benefit (how polite was that?!), it falls a bit flat. Sometimes it just feels like they are saying out of habit or obligation, I'm not sure if that's worse or better, but my heart sure didn't sing zippity-doo-dah! Now I have someone who really truly believes it, and I can feel it. That is a whole new world. I didn't know it existed. I didn't know I wanted it. Apparently I do. Weird right. This does apply to the point, don't worry. I haven't lost the plot yet!
          My boyfriend is also a brilliant photographer. He has taken photos all over the world. Portraits, exotic wildlife, and places that are so beautiful the photo can actually make you skip a breath. Recently he has decided to take a few photos of me. Apparently he is one of the very few who is capable of taking good photos of me. My mother is very happy, as I have sent a couple to her! But DO NOT FEAR, my adroit skills for ruining photos have remained fully in tact. Yes, I can even foil the talented, creative, steady hand of a real photographer. Here are a couple of those:

          We took pictures a couple days ago at the beach (not just of me- that would have been BOR-ING!).  When we got home, I started doing the dishes (so my man can make yet another magical creation for dinner). All of the sudden I hear raucous laughter from the other room. The T.V. was not on, no music, I could not hear anyone outside... I wasn't sure what was up. I looked over. There he was on the computer. Immediately I knew. The photos were now on the computer. Something was hysterically funny. My guess... me.
          Now, I can't imagine what it is. We've laughed at other funny pics of me before. But this was particularly strong laughter. Then he calls to me, "Baby, come here, you have to see this!" Oh boy. It must be good, scary, ugly AND funny! Just a guess.
          It was. All of those things. What's even scarier is it was not a face that I purposely made. It was one of those 'in-between expressions' faces. So I might do it all the time. There were other funny ones, but they were mock faces. On purpose. My next thought: Facebook. He seems to like to put his least flattering photos of me on facebook. I don't mind, but I just wonder why. So I asked, "Is this going on facebook?" The look said it before he did. Yes. Great. At the same time, I'm kind of happy about it. It is funny!
          Then I asked him why he very rarely put good photos up of me. His response was genuinely interesting. He said anyone could see a beautiful or pretty photo of me. But that part of what made me special (especially to him), was that I made funny faces, weird faces, scary faces, and yes... ugly faces. He said there are many other beautiful women who are beautiful all day. What they are missing is the humour and dorkiness of expressions in their faces (I'm paraphrasing here- but you get the idea). So, I of course made a face- old habits die hard!
          Later, we were relaxing, watching a movie. (Okay this is not fully relaxing for me, as it is a bit like studying, but it is still nice) At about one or so in the morning I started to get sleepy. I yawned. You know the type of yawn that you can feel is going to relieve you before it really starts?! That kind of yawn. So of course I let loose with complete abandon. My boyfriend, happened to look over. He broke into laughter. The same laughter of earlier in the night. He said, "That was a really ugly face (still laughing and me too at this point), but I love you anyway!!! (more laughter from us both) How does such a beautiful girl do that with her face?" Then I said, "You can't be pretty all the time!" He agreed and we laughed again!
          So now I leave you with a photo that as of yet, has gone unsurpassed in it's unequalled achievement of ugly. A photo to make you laugh and cry! I find it to be disturbing and refreshing really. This is in-between expressions:

Damn, that's HOT!

kimbersfrog