One time, as a working crew member, they apparently didn’t stamp my passport. I found this out as I was trying to leave because the customs officer starting yelling at me about the fact that I didn’t have one. I wasn’t aware I was responsible for supervising German immigration. ::eye roll:: Thankfully he let me leave since I was standing there with a crew badge in uniform. And I said I’d only been there for 24 hours. Likely a liar would say slightly longer. I assume. I’ve never lied to immigration. Really.

Since, in my first six months of working, I was assigned trips to Frankfurt no less than 9 times you can imagine how boring it is to look through my passport. A whole lot of AMS and FRA, a French and Chinese visa and a few US stamps just for good measure. This has left me with very few pages left. Thankfully I have just enough room for my Indian visa which I will be applying for next Wednesday.

Yep, you read that right. I’m 90% sure this trip is actually going to happen. I’m in shock and shaking from excitement at the same time. Despite the fact that I’ve been hoping and praying to go on this trip since I was 12 years old I still feel completely unprepared. That probably has a lot to do with the fact that we didn’t raise enough money to buy tickets from the US to India. We’re going to have to fly standby to Europe and fly out of there.

Considering my last standby experience to Europe that kind of scares the crap out of me.

The cheapest tickets we found were out of Frankfurt which as I mentioned earlier is a city I’m quite familiar with. The only concern I have is I realized it’s right smack in the middle of Oktoberfest. Now, Oktoberfest happens in Munich but it still worries me that we might not be able to make it.

Our next option is Amsterdam which should be a breeze to get in and out of. The only problem is it’s going to cost like $700 more. ::sigh::

We have to decide soon but we need to get visas before we buy non-refundable plane tickets because the last thing we want is to be denied visas and just throw money away.

And now you can see where I’m stressed.

Not to mention I have barely any room in my US passport.

There’s plenty of room in my Swiss passport but something about the fact that I live in the States means I can’t use it. Lame.

We thought we could get extra pages put in but it turns out it costs almost as much to do that as to get a new passport. Super lame!

But we’re going.

I think.

I want this so bad it makes my heart ache. I wish we had raised enough to buy our plane tickets all the way from ORD but I guess that makes it even more about faith.

All I know is I’ve already heard about the children we’re going down there to help. And it makes me want to cry thinking about them. I can’t wait to play with them and read them stories and make their home a better place.

We’ve already sent money down to the home ahead of us. Today I found out what they’re using it for.

Toilets.

They’re putting in toilets so that they’ll have them when we arrive.

I told Joel I don’t need a toilet! I’ve used a squatty-potty before and we’re going to be in the middle of the jungle, I honestly didn’t expect anything other than a hole. Joel said it was already part of the improvement plans so I don’t feel guilty.

Imagine being exited about getting a toilet.

I can’t tell you how badly I hope to make it there. They are anticipating our arrival already and I know they will be very disappointed if we can’t make it for some reason. This is one of my biggest life dreams and it just seems unreal that it may actually happen.

Please send good vibes as we apply for visas and finally purchase plane tickets.

I’m so nervous but I’m starting to think we’re actually going to make it.

As always you can find out more about our trip at our HelpSend.Us site.

He talked about her a lot though and how great the coffee she made was. I encouraged him to ask her out or, ya know, say anything to her besides his coffee order. He never did.

Now I’m glad, for obvious reasons.

Not that I think he would have ended up with her, since we’re a perfect fit and all. But you never know.

Moving on.

She quit or moved away or something because he eventually stopped seeing her. He shortly stopped frequenting that coffee house. It’s not open anymore. I’m not saying it’s related but….

Because of that girl I always make sure to wear my ring to work. Men aren’t terribly observant creatures but if they get any ideas and think to check my left hand they won’t be confused. Unless they’re the kind who view that as a challenge. But then blech.

Anyway, where I work there several people who regularly come into the store already. Two guys I see every day that I work. I assume they come in when I’m not there too. But how would I know? They’re fairly quiet and don’t seem flirty at all. I do try to be friendly and make conversation if they seem open to it as I do with all the customers who come into the store. Mostly they just sit with their faces in their laptops and work.

Yesterday I had the day off (which was fabulous) and then today, when one of the regulars came in, I asked him if he wanted his usual. He said he did and then he told me,

“Someone else made my drink yesterday. It just wasn’t the same.”

Um, aw! Complimenting me on my coffee skills gives me serious happies.

I made the guy his drink and he resumed his normal routine of quietly working. I went back to working while trying not to let my smile break my face. I get all silly and giddy when it comes to compliments. His was the second I’ve gotten.

The first was the other day when a girl tasted her latte that I made and said it was the best she’d ever had in her life. I can’t take full credit because the coffee we serve is incredible all on it’s own. But the fact that it was the best of her life must mean something. (And don’t say it’s that she rarely drinks coffee. Shut up.)

The dude saying his drink wasn’t the same unless I make it made me remember Joel’s coffee crush. Not that I assume those guys have crushes on me. She probably didn’t assume that either. I just think it’s fun to have regulars. It’s fun to know what someone’s drink is before they order it. And it’s by far the most fun to be told I make awesome espresso.

Now I’m a coffee girl and this one? Is a huge sucker for compliments.

Not even a little.

But still I feel like I can’t talk about it. Not on my blog anyway. Because that would be like bragging, wouldn’t it?

The thing is, it’s so different from how I was feeling a month ago. A month ago I was seriously starting to wonder if I needed help of the men in white coats sort.

Or at least the kind that comes with happy pills and couches.

It isn’t normal to feel such deep sadness that you cry for days.

For no reason at all.

It makes me feel almost dizzy just thinking about it. It was awful.

The scary thing is, I never figured out why I was so unhappy. All I know is that I’m happy now.

I have a feeling my happiness has a lot to do with the fact that I’m working again. As “nice” as it is to lounge around all day everyday chatting on Twitter and watching my shows I felt useless and lazy. I hate feeling lazy. I consider laziness my biggest flaw.

Now, almost every day I shower, get dressed, smile and interact with humans. My clothes are fitting better even though the number on the scale hasn’t gone down. When I do spend time lazing around the house it’s a treat. There’s still a little guilt but it’s justifiable.

There’s a small undercurrent of unease that follows me around. Like a dark trickle under the surface that threatens to burst at any moment and become the next gulf spill of sadness.

I don’t ever want to go back to the dark place I was in. I also don’t want my happiness to depend on work or other outside factors that I can’t really control. I want my happiness to come from inside of me. That’s a much more elusive kind of happiness.

The good news is, unless I think about really hard I can’t tell the difference between that kind of happy and the kind I am now. I’m content to take the kind of happiness I can get for now though.

Even if there’s a chance it could disappear, it sure is wonderful while it lasts.

I love all the caption ideas you all left in the comments. Quite clever. I’m still no closer to understanding an actual reason for this ridiculous parking job but at least I got a couple good chuckles out of the deal. Thank you all for playing, I hope it was as fun for you as it was for me.

The caption I chose made me laugh. Loudly. Whoever Andrew is, he knows his audience.

“My wife just landed 45 minutes ago when I was still watching the game”

I seriously need to know what kind of roofing emergency there could have been to warrant this horrendous parking job.

Hazards on and all.

I mean, I want to hope that something was seriously leaking. Although considering the utter lack of rain (notice the beautiful blue skies) I kind of doubt it.

It’s not a swanky car so I doubt he was worried about door nicks. Not to mention the 20 other open parking spaces.

So why? Why would anyone park like this ever? Is it really that hard to pull in at least kinda sorta straight?

I’m thinking this needs to be a caption contest actually. Mostly because I neeeed to know a possible reason for the insanity!

I’ll change the title to the best caption and credit the winner in a post update.

Ready? Go!

Jordan: “Come here Phoebe! Cuddle me!”

Squishy puppy! Her face is kind of says ::sigh:: really?!

Joel said he thought Jordan was trying to perform the Vulcan mind meld on her. We do call him Jordie after all. Don’t worry, I made sure he didn’t actually put his fingers in her eyes.

This was the last picture I took. She was ready to get down but there was no growling or lip curling. She was totally resigned to the cuddles and pulling.

Seriously I don’t know how I ended up with such a great dog. There are a lot of things I’m worried about when I think about having my own kids. Whether or not Phoebe will get along with the babies however, isn’t one of them.

I love that sweet little girl.

At the grand opening there were of course the most free samples. We had tons of stuff we were giving away. Soda, ice cream, cheese, chips and bread with several different kinds of dips, baked goods, beer, wine…. I mean, you could have made a round through our tiny little store and had an entire meal.

People wandered around, checking things out and most were really excited about the store. Some people however won’t ever be happy no matter what. I feel sorry for those people. What a miserable life, finding everything that’s wrong with everything.

Anyway, I was handing out free bottles of soda and single serve ice cream when a guy wandered into the store. He had a mopey expression on his face and kind of stood off to the side. He then moved closer to my table,

“I heard you guys were giving away free stuff.”

“Oh yeah, we have all kinds of things all over the store. Would you like a soda or some ice cream?”

He looked at the bins of my stuff and turned up his nose at it.

“I don’t like soda”

I told him to have a look around because there was plenty of other things he could try.

I didn’t see him for awhile and gave away most of the rest of my soda in the mean time. When he came back there were only a couple left.

He seemed even more mopey and annoyed and said to me,

“It’s all small stuff.”

Um, duh! Was what I wanted to say. Instead I smiled and told him,

“Well of course. They want you to try things and like them so much that you buy them.”

To this he rolled his eyes. I mean, seriously Dude? What exactly do you think we’re in the business of doing? We have to make money. Again, duh.

I offered him a soda again but he still turned me down.

He was kind of standing off to the side all gloomy and sad like a real life Eeyore. All he was missing was the rain cloud hovering over his head. In the mean time, I handed out all but the last of the sodas. He moved closer but only to complain more.

“I wanted to pick up something for a friend.” As if we were giving away entire plated meals to-go.

Someone came by and asked for the last soda in my bin. Of course, since Eeyore had already turned it down I gave it away without a second thought. I popped the cap off, handed it to the happier customer and then Eeyore was all,

“Hey, now there’s none for me.”

Um, excuse me? You turned me down, not once but twice.

I just kind of looked at him in surprise and the happier customer offered it to Eeyore. Can you imagine? You take a sample and as you get it a full grown man literally whines about there not being one for him because you took it? Seriously awkward! What else was there to do?

Eeyore turned the customer down too. After they walked away with their soda, Eeyore turned back to me and whined,

“Now are you going to get me one?”

At this point I just wanted the whining to stop so I went to the soda case and thank God there were more sitting in there. Technically those were for sale but by that point I probably would have paid for it myself. I brought it back and handed it to him. He took a sip and then sighed

“I don’t even really like soda.”

::facepalm::

Because red? So much better than white. Or brown for that matter.

Today I took the plunge and completed number 23 on my 30 by 30 list. I dyed my hair red.

I go to the Aveda Institute in Chicago to get my hair done. Their prices are lower than even a place like Super Cuts but I feel comfortable with the quality of the products and I’ve never had a bad hair cut there. The last several cuts I’ve had done by the same girl and I heart her. She’s fantastic.

It was fun when they were discussing my color because they kept referring to my virgin hair. They actually use the words virgin hair which of course made me giggle inside. I’m clearly twelve.

Anyway, the process of the dye and cut took over four hours. Apparently my hair is quite thick.

This was part of the way through the process. She had to get more dye. For the third time. Ha!

Side note, I tried cucumber water for what I’m pretty sure is the first time. Not delicious. I like cucumbers but I think they’re better suited dipped in hummus than as a water flavor. The flavor is actually kind of nauseating. Blech.

The whole time my stylist was as giddy as I was about how good the color was going to look. Once it was done I seriously had so many students and instructors come up and say how gorgeous the color was. And they see a lot of dye jobs so you know it was good.

Oh, here’s a question. How do you react when someone tells you you’re pretty? Like, a matter of fact statement, not a guy hitting on you. One of the instructors came to check my hair at one point in the process and after she introduced herself was like “You’re very pretty.”

Hello, ego boost.

At the same time though it’s so hard to just say thank you. I always feel the need to justify compliments. I resist, but I always want to. It’s probably a whole other post on body image and self esteem but it surprised me and made me think. More than anything though it kind of made my day. Because who doesn’t want to be told they’re pretty?

After my appointment I tweeted about how much I loved my new ‘do and planned to post a picture shortly after. Except I hit traffic… on the way to Aunt Becky’s house to hang out. First Twitter friend I actually got together with. It couldn’t have been a better first tweetup. Because Becky? Every bit as awesome in real life as she is online which makes me so happy. Anywho, her and her adorable munchkins totally distracted me from Twitter (ironically) or posting pictures of my hair. I’m officially a giant tease. Sorry.

So, without further ado, the new hair.

It’s not shockingly different and my stupid cheap camera doesn’t do the color justice.

Perhaps tomorrow I can get a better picture in the sunlight. But you get the idea.

Bonus! I got my headband in the mail today from Krust

AH-dorable!*

I’m very happy with it. I think next time I’ll go even more red.

I think the whole fiery red head thing suits my personality very well.

*double bonus, cleavage shot! You’re welcome.

While I wish I had the nerve to come back with “I’m not sure. So how’s your sex life?” I generally say something along the lines of  “We want kids eventually. We’re just not ready. Yet.”

When Joel and I got married we knew we didn’t want kids right away. We wanted time to really get to know each other better. To laze around the house in all states of undress. To go on a weekend trip on a moments notice. Basically we wanted time to be a fun, young married couple. We said we wanted to wait three to five years.

We’ve been married almost four and a half years.

Ho. ly. crap.

I love, love, love kids.  However, if I’m being totally honest I love kids less now than I did in my late teens and early earlier 20’s. Don’t get me wrong. The little kids in my life? Adorable. Love them to death. Can’t imagine my life without them. But there’s always the option to send them to their mother when I don’t want to deal with them.

What will it be like when I’m the mother?

Freaky.

Then there’s the whole sleep issue. When I don’t get enough sleep? Frankly, I’m kind of a bitch. What if I can’t handle the lack of sleep?

What if I don’t like my kid?

I love my freedom. I love having days of doing absolutely nothing at all. Once I’m a mom that’s gone, mostly likely forever.

Am I ready to give that up?

Will I ever be?

Anyway, this is on my mind lately. I definitely want kids. In fact, I kind of want a lot of kids. Now that I’m grown up and close to my siblings I want to give my children the same kind of experience. I’m pretty sure I don’t want 8 like my dad but definitely more than 2.

Actually, I’ve joked that we’ll just keep having kids until we get a bad one. Then we’ll stop.

I’m mostly kidding.

But seriously, I’m scared of having a colicky or difficult baby. Or getting postpartum depression.

I’m really scared that I’ll be a bad mom.

I’m so selfish. Not just sometimes. Most of the time. Growing a baby doesn’t magically change your personality does it?

I mean, even now I get so hurt and frustrated when my mom doesn’t have time for me. I hate not being able to get a hold of her. I’m twenty-freaking-four. Once you’re a mom, you’re always and forever a mom.

I’m just not sure when I’ll ever be ready to go from Me to Mom.

Since we hit that magic we’ve-been-married-for-three-years milestone we keep setting future dates to start trying. When the date comes we get cold feet and push it off further. There’s just so much I want to do.

I want to:

• run a marathon
• pay off our credit cards
• buy a house
• have some money in savings
• get sexy pictures taken of me so I remember my awesome pre baby body
• get in shape enough to where I feel like I have an awesome pre baby body

And ya know, a million other things that always seem to come up. I just don’t know if there will ever be a time that feels like it’s right. I’m afraid if I just keep waiting around to be ready it’s never going to happen.

Someone please tell me how you knew that you were ready. Did you wish you would have waited longer? Not waited as long?

It’s worth it right?

I want to be a young, fun mom. I just keep saying I’m not ready yet. But yet? Just keeps moving.