Landfill.

I am determined to turn my backyard into a tropical oasis--complete with large, green, leafy palms, and an outdoor living room.

With such renovation comes intense manual labor, causing severe back pain, and on the upside, lightening speed weight loss! So, in essence, my backyard AND body are getting makeovers!

This brings me to a wonderful conclusion. Why do people use gyms? If we all invested our energy (and by that I mean mostly physical) into our living spaces, they would be impeccable, and so would our figures! Doesn't it make sense? Instead of paying for a gym membership and aimlessly running without going anywhere, clean your house! But I mean REALLY clean it. The kind of deep, aggravating cleaning that works up an intense sweat. My policy on cleaning (outside of trying to associate it with working out) is that if you're cleaning without sweating and breathing heavily, you're doing it wrong. If everyone were to use this advice, imagine how beautiful the world would be--both bodies and surroundings? Not to mention the wonderful sense of pay-off and self gratification one receives after physically working hard on something for themselves. You don't have to give your landscaper or gardener credit!

Manual labor is your friend. Fire your gardeners and get diggin.'

Sex and the City

I went to watch it tonight. Although some may say the series was shallow, I beg to differ. Well, at least the movie wasn't. For those who haven't seen it, I encourage you to broaden your horizons and see a flick that challenges the thoughts surrounding relationships and marriage, while including the latest releases in fashion. By the end of the movie, I felt that I was watching myself on the big screen. Okay, an older, thinner, richer self, but nonetheless, I felt I was watching myself in Carrie Bradshaw.

The most amazing part of the film was the way it challenged the norm's view on marriage. I have always been semi-torn on this subject. Is marriage really necessary? Does it prove your love? Is it just a superficial vow and justification for throwing a wedding? Well, yes and no. Carrie and Big decided to get married. No fairytale proposal--I quote, "Just a business deal." After organizing a huge, hoopla wedding, the couple fails to attend (for reasons I shall omit for the sake of saving the suspense in the movie), and then end up getting married in the New York City Hall, just like Vlady and I (sans New York). Sorry for those that I just gave away the movie too. You snooze, you lose.

I battled with the idea of having a conventional "wedding." Actually, I battled with the idea of having a wedding at all. In my heart of hearts, I knew having a wedding would take away from our marriage. <-----Hello, here is the purpose and meaning of my blog. There is a huge difference between a wedding and a marriage. A wedding is an excuse to "feel like a princess," and have a day to live in a fairytale. A marriage is the truly sacred part--or SHOULD be the truly sacred, romantic part. It's the meaning. The heart. It's the REASON. Entering in a marriage is no fairytale, and hardly romantic. But, sorry, neither is a wedding. If you're shallow enough to drown yourself and your partner in the illusion that your wedding is sacred, you shouldn't be getting married. Do you need to throw a big party with fancy food and guests you don't know to prove your love to an individual? I don't think so. I now believe that marriage is sacred. I NOW figured out that people SHOULD get married (be it their own choice), but there is a huge line between getting married and getting "a wedding." If you have to have the wedding of your dreams to get hitched, you shouldn't be getting hitched. There's no marriage in a wedding.

So, congratulations to Carrie and Big, or I should say, myself and Vlady. I have no regrets, nor am I battling with having a future reception. We did it the right way.

For ourselves.

Cocksucker.

There's nothing in life that gives me greater pleasure than to bitch idiot drivers out on the road.

Dumbass was in the middle turning lane and decided to glide over to my FAR LEFT lane as she was passing the intersection. I honked, and she stupidly gestured, "What?" Instead of explaining that she almost drove me into oncoming traffic, my mouth collapsed. I was defeated by stupidity. In a split second, I had assessed that had I tried to let her know what she did, she probably wouldn't have understood me anyway, and she would have endangered more people by struggling to. So, I gave up.

Today was a sad, sad day.

I also found out that my grandmother gave her cat to a kill shelter a couple of months ago.

That made me cry more than not being able to call idiot driver a cocksucker.

Bad mood today.

And this is how I feel.

Spring Fever!

It looks as though I completely forgot about my blog for the last month! I don't know where the time is going! I can't believe it's already May. I feel like yesterday was Halloween. I can't believe I'm going to be 24. I never imagined myself getting up in my twenties! I still feel like I'm a cool 16.

So many people around me are married and having babies. Wait a minute! I'm married! See where the time went? I can't believe I'M already married! No babies soon, though. Although at times, it's really weird, I feel my biological clock ticking. It's a very sloooooow tick, but nonetheless, I feel it at times. I still have a hard time picturing myself as a mother, though. I guess a lot of women probably feel that way. I've seen plenty of non-mother types as mothers, so I guess it can work. I'd really like to adopt, though. Since V wants a child of his own, I'm hoping to do both, although it would be REALLY hard.

Since I'm such a weenie when it comes to girl-related pains, my biggest fear in life is childbirth. Come on now, it's so not natural to have ANY orifice stretch to the size of a freaking watermelon, I don't care what nature says. I always pictured myself drugged to hell, holding a champagne glass in one hand, cigarette in the other, forget the gross hospital gown, and sliding the child out as elegantly as possible. No stirrups, and definitely no weird people holding my legs apart as my overgrown hair peeks through stained white socks. Ew! The image horrifies me. If I'm shooting a 10 pound anything out of my body, it's gonna be my way, or the highway! Oh, and I don't want ANYONE in the room but myself and a doctor. V has a problem with that, but he'll just have to deal. And forget the pale pastel nursery. Yuck!

What the hell am I talking about? We're talking in the long future!

Eh, well, at least I blogged.

Nightmares.

I have nightmares constantly when I'm stressed out, which turns out to be frequently. They're usually the same ones, over and over again. Mostly from my past, like unfinished business coming to haunt me at night. And I always wake up feeling nauseated. I also always get sick when I'm stressed out. I must have the most gawd-awful immune system hell could supply me with. A couple of panic attacks one evening, the next day I'm burning up and bed ridden. Over and over and over again. I try to eat healthy, take vitamins, but nothing does it. I think I should do some stress-relieving yoga meditation in the mornings. I also really want a punching bag.

I think that would do me wonders.

Hooray for charity!

There's really nothing better than the feeling of giving back. After watching American Idol Gives Back tonight, you'd have to be an idiot not to be moved by all of the seriously unfortunate standards within the world. By donating $100, I helped feed a child for an entire YEAR in Kenya. I think everyone should think of the many, many children suffering from hunger and sickness around the world, and most shockingly, in our own backyard within the US, while they're buying their Fendi bags and Mercedes SUVs. We aren't in need of such material things, and it's unfortunate that here, in the Silicon Valley, in the center of wealth, we are so shallow and ignorant to the real devastation taking place around us.

If you can buy coffee at Starbucks every day, if you can lease a new Beamer, if you can buy new Puma shoes, you need to give back. It's a shame if you don't.