Skewed Reality

TV has given me a skewed sense of reality. Shocking, right? I know, TV is usually beaming with reality, what with Toddlers and Tiaras, Honey Boo Boo (a piece of me just died as I typed that), Jersey Shore, Teen Mom, etc... 

Here's a list of my (as my granny says) "stories" and how they have skewed my reality:

• The Walking Dead - I'm now worried that any minute a zombie apocalypse is going to break out and I am going to have to strategically find all of my friends and family and we are going to have to make our way to the local prison for safety and judging the way my garden is growing, I will not be the farmer of the group, so I need to brush up on my marksmanship or head stabbing...
• Revolution - Every time the power flickers, I think "Ok, this is it... It's go time." Then the power comes back on and I think, "Ah, just as well, I'm not sure I'm ready for survival mode. Have you seen my garden?"
• Weeds (terrible show, I know, guilty pleasure) - I now believe that every small "mom & pop" shop is a front for something illegal. "Oh, you've only had two customers all week and you can afford to keep the business open??" Likely story... Plus, apparently pretty much everyone smokes pot, regularly.
• Dexter - It's apparent to me that being a serial killer is much easier than I would have initially expected. I mean as long as you dump the body in the gulf stream and don't keep a token, you are golden.
• Nashville - It's now clear to me that all musicians are tortured souls who come from crazy backgrounds or have addiction problems. Wait... that one just may be reality...
• Lost - Flying has always creeped me out, but now I'm worried about my plane disappearing. I mean seriously, that doesn't happen, right??? Oh... wait... it does.

Ok, so maybe those last two aren't too skewed, but do you see how easily I get sucked in? I'm way too gullible. The next thing you know I'm going to be the mysterious lead singer of a rock group who, by day, is the owner and manager of Starlight Music and who's adopted this persona with the help of my holographic computer. Far fetched, huh?

to the moon and back,

I'm not a hugger

I'm not a hugger, never really have been. I don't think I got that gene. I read an article about the benefits of hugging and I thought to myself... "Meh... whatever..."

I think most people are born with an innate ability to appreciate hugs. Not me, I'm not touchy feely, just ask my husband, it drives him crazy. I feel like I should be a hugger. It would probably make things so much easier, especially since my hubby's love language is physical touch.

"What's this 'Love Language' you speak of?" Well, if you have to ask, then, apparently, you haven't read the "5 Love Languages". The basic idea is that everyone "speaks" a different language when showing their love. So if your love language is gifts and your spouse's is quiality time, it doesn't matter how many gifts you give him, he won't see it as love. It's like speaking English to someone who only speaks French. The 5 love languages are:

• Acts of Service
• Physical Touch
• Words of Affirmation
• Quality Time
• Gifts

My primary language is Acts of Service. Fifth on my list? Yep, you guessed it, Physical Touch. I don't know why I am that way, I just am. It's probably because I didn't come from a huggy family. Generally, if you got a hug, it was at a funeral or on a holiday. 

I have gotten better about receiving hugs, especially after having Moose, but I'm still definitely not a giver in that respect (except for with Moose). I think it's because I'm an awkward hugger. I'm not a good judge of when it's a good time to hug and what type of hug is appropriate. Should I go in for a full hug? A half hug? A half hug with a pat on the back? A hand shake hug? There are too many choices and quite frankly, I'm too indecisive for that mess.

If I do decide to go in for a hug, I end up switching the type of hug mid way and I sorta come across as creepy or grabby.

I am not above personal growth. So in an effort to teach myself how to be a hugger, I scoured the internet for tips. Here's what I found:

I think that's a good starting point. I like #6 the best. I think I can pull that one off.

Moral to the story, if I don't hug you, it doesn't mean that I don't love you, I'm just not a hugger. Just think you could be caught up in a super awkward half shake, kiss on the cheek, full on hug and no body wants that. However, if you hug me, I will hug you back or kick you in the shin, it's a toss up.

to the moon and back,

Letters from a Wanna-Be Runner

See what I did there? Pretty clever, huh??

While you run, do you write imaginary letters to people, places, and/or things? No? Is it just me then? Hmm, ok, well, it makes the time go by faster for me. So here are just a few of letters I wrote in my head tonight as I ran...

By the way, as I am writing these letters in my head, I picture them being written down using a fancy pen and calligraphy.

• Dear Old, Beat-Up, Broke Down Chevy Pick-Up:
  Thank you for spewing that thick cloud of black smoke for me to inhale. My run wasn't quite challenging enough.
  Signed,
  *cough cough*
• Dear Extremely In-Shape Old Dude Who Lapped Me Like 20 Times:
  Quit showing off...
  Signed,
  Dying over here
• Dear Shadow (yes, my own shadow):
  Pick up the pace. You seem to be moving at a much slower pace that I am.
  Signed,
  Apparently, I'm Barely Moving
• Dear God of the Shoelace:
  While I'm upset that you allowed my shoe to come untied, I thank you for watching over me as I was running down the bridge and not letting me trip and tumble head over heals to my all but certain death.
  Signed,
  Almost Falling for You
• Dear Technology:
  What have I ever done to you? I have been nothing, if not nice to you. I always charge my phone and try to shut down apps so that they aren't running in the back ground. Also, I always hang the chest strap for my heart-rate monitor up so that it can dry out. I put the watch that goes with my heart-rate monitor in a safe place so it doesn't get damaged. And what do I get as thanks? Well, on a night where I needed all of the motivation I could get, my hear-rate monitor kept losing track of my heart and the app I use to track my run crashed a little over a half mile into my run.
  Signed,
  Almost Gave Up and Quit

Weren't you absolutely riveted by that glimpse of what goes on in my head while I'm running, that is while I'm running by myself. If I'm running with someone, I'm usually talking because I can't handle the silence and I'm working on my lungs... yea, that's it, lung capacity.

to the moon and back,