Where did all the wisemen go?!

Being home for the Holidays, I have had some time to think, to relax, and to blog. I know it has been awhile, but when weighing the importance about reading about Karl Marx and trying to convince the world that I am funny, unfortunately Marx came out as more important-again. Life is tough.
I have been bouncing around thoughts in my brain about my next blog topic I was thinking about writing about how the shows on TLC are always creepy like sisterwives and John and Kate plus 8, need I say more, those are two of the worst shows ever put on television. No offence too those who are fans, but Sisterwives are about make the prison they get sent too there new home of polygamy and John and Kate plus 8 well lets just say there is no more John and Kate just the two of them and there sketchy ass mates. I feel like I could offend a few people with this one, so I decided to skip this blog topic.
Then sitting here on the sofa in my living room surrounded by my family. My mom cooking in the kitchen, my dad sitting in one of the sofa chairs, and my sister sitting in the sofa chair with her feet propped up on the foot rest, remote right next to her and my parents asking her all about her fascinating job-needless to say I am UNEMPLOYED, the greatest blog topic came to mind.
Then while writing this, I looked at the Christmas Tree and of course her gifts wrapped so neatly are already under the tree. I guess I’m going to have to invest in wrapping paper this year.
This blog is dedicated to the youngest child. Yea you know who you are, you are the one that has to repeat themselves at the dinner table, that has a super loud voice because you had to talk over everyone just to be heard, the one that’s name is always forgotten…Just kidding the only thing out of these claims that is true about me is that I have a super loud voice, no ones fault but my own.
But no, the blog is about the mastermind: the youngest child. There are many days of the year that youngest children favor, the best one is there birthday because their wish of having all the attention in the family is granted, but events that I love even more than my Birthdays are the Holidays. Holidays to me as the youngest are like bones to a dog, a heater in the winter, vodka in a cosmo. They are the belvedere of all the bottles. Let me tell you why. Christmas decorations are probably one of the best creations ever. Thank you Christ. Nativity sets, ornaments on the tree, stockings, and family Christmas pictures. These all speak to the world as beautiful, festive, and fun. To me these mean along with all those fun adjectives equal prank time.
It was 2005, I was sophomore in high school and living in Singapore. Our nativity set was out. Most people as sourced by (answers.com) have Jesus in the center the angel behind him and Mary and Joe(Joseph) on each side. The Sheppard and their animals are near Joe and the three wise men, and then there is little baby Jesus in the cradle. Well thinking that no one really payed attention to the nativity set especially my family who last went to church together in 1996, I decided that I was going to create a modern nativity set. Little baby Jesus was going to go to the zoo and hang out with the Sheppard’s pets, and then the other peeps would go elsewhere. I thought my idea was creative and fresh. It took my family a week to find out. So great. When they did find out. Not so great.
One of my favorite things to do during Christmas is to have ultimate power with the ornaments on the tree. I made an angel in first grade out of a paper plate, which is probably one of the most artistic things I have ever done. I think making this successfully is one of my parent’s proudest memories of me (I was the slow kid), so it has been saved every year. My sister is anti-my angel, and always tries to get it booted of the tree. Well let me just tell you that Nicole has been succesfull in most things she has attempted, but not the angel on the tree, and not the middle school basketball team (I am sorry-I hope you have moved on). Then there are the ornaments you make every year till about sixth grade they have your picture in the middle and are really cool. Well Nicole has three and I have two. You would think because she has made more her face would be more prominent on the Christmas tree. Well it is the first time the tree gets decorated-which is by my dad-while we all sit and watch (sorry we are lazy). Then when no one is looking. I take Nicole’s face ornaments off the front of the tree and put them in the back. I did this about five days ago this year, and she’s still back there. SUCCESS.
So to all of you who are reading who are last out of the womb, when you think Holidays are tough because your sister is back from her really successful job and you have to sit there in envy at the dinner table. I give you the advice of this go toy around with the Christmas tree, give baby Jesus a new home, and hide some ornaments. It many not get you the special plate, but it will get you noticed. Which is all we really want anyways.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Airports...

Having been heckled the entire term to blog and not abiding by the requests. I realized that right now sitting in the Denver airport would be an opportune time to share some stories about WHY I hate airtravel in America.

I blame some of this on my upbringing in Asia.  Where you had deluxe treatment and were met curbside and ushered through security. Being called "Ms. DeFord" My sister had her cup noodles brought to her in a nice bowl.  Thank you Singapore Airlines this is why you are the number one airline in the world, and this is why I love you.

Now having travelled domestically more times then I would like to count I literally have lost all patience that I have for airports.  Today I even cut in front of an old lady on an airplane.  I know.  I know.  But this just links into why, why I hate airports so much.

Shrinks say it is important to write down your thoughts when you are frustrated...so lets be real, I wrote down my thoughts.

This evening is a prime example.  I finished a final around 10:00.  Checked my flight status about 10 times (I realize) and left the airport only 2 and half hours before my flight departed.  I like getting there really early.  So I get to Eugene.  One of the smallest, but worst airports in the continental U.S.A.  I check by bag.  Go through security where there is a lady with a 2-liter Dr. Pepper and a flower in a vase.  She seems drunk, but does not seem to understand why they won’t let her through.  I mean I guess there aren’t enough warnings not to bring liquids I mean its on your ticket, on the website, on 10 signs before you get to security, but its OK some of us just don’t pay attention to anything.  In the mean time I have to wait there and watch her actually make a fool out of herself.  Lets just say there was no dr. pepper in the end, and no rose.  TSA won.

Then I’m sitting at my gate.  Patiently minding my own business and the gate guy comes on the loud speaker and talked not even joking you for three minutes.  Three minutes about how to board the plane and let me directly quote what he repeated for three minutes  “I won’t fool you I will get cha if your bag is over the limit, that’s 2000 dollars out of my pocket, I don’t have 2000 dollars I’ll get cha” oh will you get me.

Anyways I’m in Zone 4 awesome.  I get on the plane.  Every time I get on the airplane I try to guess who I’m sitting by and by guess I mean hope that I am sitting next to a hot guy, and not the talker or the 300 pounder.   Well today I sat next to a
“reading klepto.”  Who took up the whole armrest.  By reading klepto I simply mean the magazine stealer.  Yea the one who takes your magazine when your sleeping, and you have no idea where it went until you see it out of the corner of your eye.  Well yea I’m one less Self Magazine away from looking fly. And I slept through the beverages.  The damn beverages.

So now I’m in Denver.  Sitting, waiting, watching, WATCHING the delayed sign increase fifteen minutes every fifteen minutes.  First I was at gate A50, now I’m at gate A31.  YA.  Stop lying to me Frontier airlines. Needless to say this all could be happening because my Mom booked me on a "Missouri Airlines" flight.  Did you know that was an airline? No, neither did I.  Will I fly on it again? No. Tangent aside. This is where my biggest pet peeve comes in.  There are fifteen people in line to talk to the airport-ticketing agents.  The lines are held pretty close together. You guys know the drill.  You wait forty-five minutes for one innocent victim to come up and do their job.  People in the line can hear what the person in front of them is asking usually because the person in front of them is screaming, crying, yelling, or just loud.  Why do you need to waste there time asking the same question in fifteen different ways.  

“Is the flight delayed”?

“Yes”

“So is my flight coming later”?

“Yes”

“Why isn’t my flight here, is it delayed”

“Yes”

“So the monitor says my flights delayed, is it?”

“Yes”

"So I see that my flight is coming later"

"Yes"

"Can you tell me what is wrong with the plane?"

"No"

"Can you tell me if its going to come earlier"

"No"

"Can you book me on another flight"

"No"

"Do you hate your life right now?"

"YES"

I never knew there were so many different ways to ask the same question.  Now I do.

But here is the champion.  

The champion.  

The one who gave George Clooney something to make fun of in Up in the Air.  

The clinger. 

The passenger who establishes the role of the leader of the flight, the one that will make allies with other passengers and fight the airlines as it is Britain and America in the olden days.  The Passengers being Britain, and the airlines being the Patriots. 

The I just call everyone in my phonebook: 1-800-AIRTRAVELISOVERATED, 1-800-IWILLPUTYOUONHOLDANDNOTPICKUP, 1-800-IAMANNOYING. 

The I can fly the plane from my blackberry. 

The I can annoy every single person sitting in the Denver Airport. 

The I want to be blacklisted from everyflight in the world.

I will call her Mary Mismatch.  Only because she is very mismatching right now. Limegreen blouse, brown cargo pants.  That is never ok, especially not today.  She has been walking around, phone against ear, inhaler in hand (I realize), on a mission.  She has met twelve different people on my flight and has planned a carpool.  A carpool, carpools with complete strangers. Sounds like an awesome idea to me.  I mean they let OJ Simpson ride on an airplane, lets just all be friends.  She has been calling out funny things like “that tail wind better be fucking strong.”  It wasn't until this next moment that I became completely speechless  because now she is talking about where she is from; she is from a town called Pocahontas.  Yes like the Disney movie. Yes, is this real life. Every time the door opens she asks, “are we boarding” “are we boarding”…NO MISS we aren’t boarding.  I will personally hold her hand and walk her onto the plane when we board.  Not to mention I was going to finish my blog and proof read it after I had landed which is now.  But I would just like to add that out of all people that I could have sat next to after that epic adventure.  I got to sit next to the 300-pound cowboy wearing overalls from bumfuk Missouri who I nicely offered my aisle seat too.  I can tell you for a fact I did not get up to move about the cabin, but at all that entire trip. 

There is Peace and Love then there is Airtravel.

The Victoria Secret Fashion Show

So this evening after I had eaten a whole meal of thai food and had a cookie I decided to watch the Victoria Secret Fashion Show.

My thoughts the entire time were wow they are so beautifull. wow they are flawless. wow that bra is cool. WOW I WANT TO BE AN ANGEL. wow why the fuck did I just eat that cookie

After my self esteem took a hit for the worst.  I mean seeing 45 beautiful models that aren't just tall and skinny, but actually pretty and sitting there milk and cookie in hand, I started to second guess those chocolate chips.

Thinking I could just start tomorrow and become an angel two years from now after I loose about 90 pounds and grow my hair out (it grows slowly).  A daunting reality set in on me.

I am not tall.  That is all.

Maybe I should take pilates?

I am avoiding all mirrors in the house tonight, and walked right by the kitchen which is open 24 hours all week (awesome).   Maybe i'll go to the rec center tomorrow, maybe I won't.

Right now i'm feeling like a Devil.  Four years from now i'll be looking like an angel.

Thank you NBC for RUINING my life.

High Way 20 Ride

Words can not even describe our highway 20 ride.

Krista, Melissa, Caitlin, Jen, Madeline, and myself packed up Caitlin's Acura (with no name) around 9:45 am Saturday Morning.  Headed to Qdoba for some breakfast burritos for the daring two, but Krista, Caitlin, and I stuck with safeway breakfast which consisted of: donnetts, an M&M cookie, and potato soup.  With substantal stomaches the six of us headed on our way.  The first hour  of the ride was uneventful, I got to ride shot gun, which allowed me to be the DJ, which allowed me to play great Music and be in control of the state of the car.  I loved both.  We estimated arriving at the BBR (black butte ranch) at around 12, maybe 12 30 with some shakey weather. We ended up in Sweet Home Oregon about an hour into the trip.  Where the sky wasn't so blue, but it was where we stopped at safeway...AGAIN. Purchased was two sandwiches, chicken noodle soup (potato was not available in this part of Oregon) and chicken salad which was tasted, then littered in the parking lot (I apologize), and spinach dip (which was apparently good).  We past Le Shawb tires and admired thoose buying chains, but had faith in Caitlin's Acura (no name) to get the job done.  Thirty minutes into the voyage from Sweet Home to BBR.  Caitlin native Californian, got a little nervous of the "black ice" that fellow passengers non chaulently warned us about.  Krista took over the wheel.  Krista grew up going to canyon parties in the snow, so we figured she would know what she was doing.  I was promoted to backseat, but don't worry Madeline rode in the way back the entire time.  Sucks.  Then we decided to offroad Caitlin's Acura (no name) to where we thought we were going.  We had faith in Map Quest, and Eric Kulling's directions, which wouldn't have been farther from wrong.  Literally SO FAR from right.   Almost hitting a tree, driving in the opposite direction, and getting a tour of forest fires in Sisters, Oregon we made the connection that something just was not right.  Being the responsible individual that I am.  I called the local police station.  This is how the conversation went:

Casey:  "this is not an emergency, and I know I probably shouldn't be calling you"
Officer: "um yes mam, how can I help you."
Casey: "so we are trying to get to a gas station, because we don't have gas and we are in the middle of no where"
Officer: "do you know where you are?"
Casey: "no I do not, but don't you have GPS so you can let us know how to get the gas station."
Officer: "yes, you are in sisters, you are twenty minutes from a gas station just follow the path back out to highway 20."
Casey: "thank you SO MUCH."

The rest of the car flabergasted that I just called the local police station, was  thanking me later.  At around 1:30 we headed on our way to a gas station/mcdonalds in Sisters, Oregon passing black butte ranch on the way.  Please take note that 1:30 is an hour and a half past the time we were supposed to arrive.  Natural called one time in the Wilderness which was a new experience for some so that delayed our travels about ten minutes.   In sisters we loaded up Caitlin's Car (no name) and 48 dollars later, we decided a much needed McDonald's meal was needed.  Because of the influence that the media and Super Size Me had on my life I opted out and got some candy instead.  Madeline refused to give a small child her kid's meal toy, and we knew it was time to get out of Sisters, Oregon as fast as possible.  We arrived at the palacial snowy cabin at about 3:00 pm.  Exhausted and ready to drink we set our bags down.  Hoping for a warm welcome, but then realized it was just the six of us.  Ignoring the fact that we didn't have a welcoming party and had wasted four years of our life we cracked open a nice Coors Light and knew the weekend was about to be great. 

Pretentious Cups

So today I was thinking about coffee orders when I was driving back from the dutch brothers drive through, and I began to wonder who REALLY orders some of thoose beverages. Which then got me thinking about some of the orders that I would get when I worked for one month as a barista at paradise bakery.

On my first day someone came in "a regular" costumer as he was known by all the other experienced employees. He ordered a latte. simple. so you think. BUT in his latte he wanted his milk warmed up to a certain degree. 125 degrees. For all of you who aren't aware milk in coffee is heated up to about 130-140, but his needed to be 125.
I was taken back by his order ONE) because it was my first beverage to be made, and TWO) because I knew he was just doing this to be pretentious and unique. You know, the ones that can't wear black when everyone is wearing black, that love to disagree to be unique, can't go anywhere without making a statement, sharing a view. The conforming conformist. (this is a whole other blog)


So you know what I did.....I heated his milk up normally, rang up his tab, and sent him on his way. He came in everyday I worked, and I heated it up to 130, and he never knew. This is probably why I only worked for a month.


Then there is the costumer that says "Yes hi I'll have a tall half-skinny half-1 percent extra hot split quad shot (two shots decaf, two shots regular) latte with whip." (cited as one of the most complicated starbucks orders of all time)
You know what I did to these people. I judged them. I continually judge them.



My last point is: the syrups. Yes the ones you see lined up in a row everytime you pay: there is vanilla, hazelnut, classic, caramel. Those I am fine with.

Then there are: kiwi, coconut, pina colada, and lime. If I ever hear of anyone ordering one of these syrups...I will judge them.


While writing this Melissa is commenting on how she orders because she doesn't like the blog I am writing. So this is what Melissa orders at starbucks: non fat sugar free vanilla latte with no foam. This order sounds delicious......not.


Until next time, keep it simple, keep it classic(syrup), keep it at 130 degrees.

you are such an oxy moron!!

So I really wanted to blog today, started about four posts, and just wasn't finding myself as witty as I could be.  So I pondered a little bit.  Walked around.  Went to Target and bought a jump suit (matching black sweat pants and a black crew neck) That  at the time did not realize was as nerdy as my roommate has labeled it.  So now I'm just sitting here feeling like the left out benchwarmer of the softball team.

The other day someone was looking for something and I said the phrase "it will be the last place you look" which if you think about is SO obvious, and SO annoying for the person frantically looking for their object to  hear.  I apologize Ashley Sanders, and I decided I would wander down the road of thought provoking oxymorons.  

Here are my top five:

1) The future isn't what it used to be.

my reply: how the hell do you know?

2)You have one choice.

my reply: how thoughtful,  youuu dictators.

3)It’s probably a lot worse than it is. 

my reply: wow thanks. I feel GREAT now.

4)Acupuncture is pointless.

my reply: tell that to the needle in your back.

5)Thinking is the last thing on my mind!

my reply: LIAR!!

I have a lot in store this weekend so hopefully a lot to blog about.  

I am going to a sorority dance on Friday. With no Date. COOL.  

I am driving to black butte on Saturday.  With some of my sisters.  Need chains for my tires.  COOL

I am thinking about purchasing rock band.  VERY COOL.

My Car....

So learning how to drive two years ago I find myself to still be pretty timid behind the wheel.  Asking obvious questions like "can I turn right on red" "is there a car next to me" "how do I turn my defrost on"  I constantly have to remind people that although I am 2o years old, I am the driver of a fifteen year old.

I was given the privledge of having a car down at Oregon this year, and I really have grown to love driving.

 I named my car "Harry" which seems very strange to most people, but I've realized that naming my car was one of the best decisions of my life. 

Harry isn't just a car to me, he is a place I can find comfort (black leather seats), someone that will take me places in life (lol)

Some daily occurrences in Harry's life:

People ask if they can ride Harry...which always makes me LOL a little bit...He is too young for that.

People also wave to Harry when they pass his parking spot.  Even though he doesn't respond.  He knows.

Today when Harry needed gas people said Harry was thirsty.  Most expensive beverage I've ever bought.

Harry instead of having to drive two hours this weekend is going to get a lot of exercise.  And is getting some chains for his new sneakers, good as Nikes.

I even had my car parked in an illegal parking spot this week, and Harry was the only car who didn't get a ticket.  So even though Harry is a delinquent, he was just moved and is now grounded.

People littered in Harry this weekend, and his feelings were hurt.  He doesn't like it dirty. 

So even when times get tough, and friendships fade away, I know that Harry will be by my side.  I know we are really going places...at least for another 100000 miles.