Giving Thanks

Today and every day, there is so, so much to be thankful for.

• My mom--my biggest cheerleader, who is supportive of each and every crazy idea I conjure up. 
• My dad--who has always made me feel like the funniest, most beautiful, smartest girl in the land.
• My brother--who is funny, loyal and thoughtful, who lets me have my idiosyncrasies but calls me on my shit.
• My pup--who teaches me patience, shows me unconditional love, and brightens my everyday.
• My friends--whose blossoming lives inspire me, make me think, and show me how beautiful life is. The way that they show me what life can become, what strength looks like, and love. The wonderful men and women they have married, and the beautiful, inquisitive, curious children they have brought into the world. 

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• My family, each and every one of the crazy bunch--who show me where my place is in this world, and who, despite wanting me to be close, encourage me to explore the rest of it.
• My health--my goodness, my health, my health, my health! I'm so thankful for the upswing, the people who show me ways to live healthier, and the people who have helped me in the meantime. 
• My job--meaningful work, the fruition of hard work, the opportunity to make a difference.
• My house--the independence it symbolizes, and the lessens it teaches me. And the hot tub, because, yeah. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! :)

Open Letters I Have Half a Mind To Send

Do you guys read McSweeney's? I'm sort of obsessed, particularly with their Open Letters. Though infrequent, many Open Letter posts have found me nodding enthusiastically or doing the pee-pee dance, particularly this one, this one and this one.

So, for the past few months, I've been keeping a list of letters I'd like to release to the world. If I could boil this stuff down to under 140 characters, I might just start using my Twitter account to get it off my chest. Well, start using it for more than just stalking Chris D'elia and 27 of my favorite bloggers, that is.

An Open Letter to Those Who Comment on My Meal Choices: 
I realize that when I walk in with a mason jar filled with brown-ish/green-ish sludge, your interest (and possibly gag reflex) is piqued. And mostly I don't mind answering your questions--usually I'm happy to ramble on at length about my newest obsession. But please have some manners. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it. Because in the future, if you do, I may just give you the real run down: In addition to a dozen other health benefits I found by eliminating 432 foods from my diet, I eat what makes my bowels less angry. That means that anyone with functioning olfactory capabilities gets to enjoy clean, neutral smelling air when blessed with my presence, and I get to have less painful/impossible potty-time. It really is a win, win, you see. It is in your best interest. So shut up, or pass the cheese and beware. P.S. The brown-ish/green-ish sludge is the most delicious superfood smoothie you could ever imagine and if you're nice to me I might share. 
In health and happily shared spaces, 
Bobbi Marie

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An Open Letter to the People in My Life Who Are Mourning Their Favorite Sporting Team's Loss and/or Are Frustrated Over A Strike: 
There, there now. I'm so sorry you're sad/frustrated. This must be really hard for you and-- Oh, who am I kidding? I quickly show signs of Asperger's Syndrome when confronted with this. I don't know what to say, or how to look you in the eye, and I'd do anything to conjure up some empathy so that I might know how to cheer you up/pacify your angry outburst/make the crying stop. I basically have no idea whatsoever why this might be so important to ANYONE, and I do not understand how in the world the implications of someone missing a pitch can make you turn from Mister Rogers to Abby-the-4-year-old-NPR-fan in under 5 seconds. I just want my friend back so we can talk about things I understand. But, yeah, I hope you feel better soon...? 

Fondly, 

Your biggest fan

Source - but you should really check out the site. Funny stuff.

An Open Letter to the Bully Spin Instructor who Singled Me Out in Front of the Whole Flipping Class in 2010 and Made Me Do Jumps Even Though I Explicitly Said My Knee was Injured: 
Thanks for cranking up the resistance... on my willingness to brave group exercise, you Nazi you. You're mean and I get the impression by the size of your biceps that you might feel the need to prove something to the world. If you're looking to have impact that is in line with your skill set, might I suggest applying to be a coach for the WWE? Basically, I'm still traumatized by our encounter almost three years later, and I think you might be a little too intense for the YMCA. 
Signed, 
Still seething

An Open Letter to My Right Quadricep: 
Okay, look, I'm sorry that the Spin Instructor was mean to you when you were at your most feeble. And I'm sorry that the stubborn discs in my back are pinching off your nerve/life-source. But can you find a way to muster up some freaking enthusiasm? After all, the rest of my body has had just as much time on the bench as you. Show some commitment. Learn to get along with your neighbors. Give my right knee some support! Get in the game! 
See you on the field, 
Coach Bobbi

An Open Letter to the State of Michigan:
Thanks for going blue on this one. I'm really proud of you.
GObama, 
A Yooper Democrat for Life

An Open Letter to The Bald Man Who Swore At Me Because He Thought I Cut Him Off At The Light Outside My Office: 
Dude, you were in the TURNING LANE. According to Michigan Intersection Signage Law (or something like that), you were supposed to be TURNING after pausing temporarily for through traffic. The right lane, that I was in, is the through-traffic lane. YOU were wrong. Should you have calmed down from your Britney-in-'07-style temper tantrum and found the good sense to want to apologize, I work in that building over there in Suite 207. Bring Skittles. 
Peacefully yours, 
The innocent brunette in the red Jeep

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An Open Letter to the Girl in the Sparkly Dress at the Nursing Gala on Saturday Night at The Landmark in Marquette, MI: 
You go, girl. (This post is turning into Missed Connections...)
Cheers, 
The jealous girl in the corner on her 4th dirty martini who will never have the chutzpah you had when you put your heels on and walked out the door

An Open Letter to the "Doctors" That Provided My "Care" circa '10-'12: 
I'm gonna assume you know what this one would say, and on the off chance that my grandmother might suddenly get an iPad and read this blog, I'm going to leave those expletives unsaid. 

Things I Suck At

Do you ever just have one of those days that are full of things you suck at? And you're like, come on, DAY, include something that is a slam dunk for me! I need a good win for team morale! (Yeah, I'm talking about Team Me.) Today I am finally back to doing tasks I excel at, like running 12 errands on my lunch hour and making hard-boiled eggs.

The rest of this week, however, was full of DAYS:

• I feel like I might never get the hang of cash flow. Never fails, I feel rich at the beginning of a pay period and by the end, I am Mother Hubbard trying to figure out what to do with the eight cans of beans I bought last week because they were on sale. There should be an iPhone app that pays all your bills for the month and then divides up the remainder, doling it out evenly each week. I would pay for that. Which might just highlight my ineptness in the wallet department.

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• Forgiveness has never felt natural to me. I don't know where absolving you of your sins ends and letting you walk all over me begins. 'Forgive but don't forget' makes no sense to me. 

• I'm always awkward when checking in at the doctor's office. Sometimes they want you to sign the little labels, sometimes they want to know why you are there, sometimes they role out the red carpet for you, and sometimes they act like you are bothering them. It's extremely inconsistent and it makes me so awkward. Add that to White Coat Syndrome and I'm pretty much at my worst in the doctor's office.

• We all know it takes heaven and earth to make me make a phone call. The fact that I have a professional job and tons of friends is a miracle because home girl SUCKS at the phone. Mercury has to be in retrograde and the stars all have to align for me to pick up and dial.

• I mean, we should probably just go ahead and put cleaning on this list.

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• I'm kind of scary with a knife in my hands. I'm really really bad at chopping things. I'm inconsistent, a little erratic and I may end up in the ER. Oddly enough, it's one of my favorite tasks in the kitchen. 

• If I had a nickel for every time I forgot to charge my flipping iPod, I could bribe my gym to play 50cent on repeat with a hint of J.Lo and Ludacris over the loud speaker. It's hard to stay motivated when your iPod dies 10 minutes after you get to the gym. I need my Fitty, but I can't manage to remember to plug the iPod in when I get home.

• I'm really bad at being nice to people when I'm too warm. 

• I realized the other day that I have completely forgotten how to do long-division. Absolutely no idea. 

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Bobbi Lately

• Lately, I've been savoring the last bits of fall. 

• Lately, I've been an eBay hustler. I've sold 5 bridesmaid dresses, and 10 other items.

• Lately, I've been adding to the gallery of frames in my stairwell. It's winding up the stairs!

• Lately, I've been sucking down India Spice Yogi Tea. 

I've also been taking the quotes as signs:

• Lately, I've been catching up with my Neglected People List. Aunts, cousins, friends. A busy summer had me putting many of my people on the back burner. It's been fun catching up!