First World Problems

I hope everyone had a blessed Thanksgiving!  I know I certainly have so much to be thankful for, and my family and I were especially thankful to celebrate the day with wonderful friends.  I missed being with family, but friends become family when family is far away.  I know I have no room to complain about anything.  That being said, I am in a Rhode Island funk today (this is how I felt all the time in RI, but this is the first time I've had this feeling on Guam), and I feel like ranting.  My problems are so very first worldish (thanks, Kate and Lydia from Rants From Mommyland), so call me shallow or spoiled or whatever other adjective you might think of to describe my whining.  I feel I must do this to de-funktify myself.  Call it a cleanse.

First off, tennis was canceled today because of rain.  We've had great weather lately, so I shouldn't be too upset.  But I am.  I love tennis, and I now have to do something else for a workout, probably P90X.  Oh, and don't ask me how half a box of Nilla Wafers magically disappeared after I got the cancellation call this morning.  The day started off just peachy....or vanilla-y?

Speaking of tennis....a friend and fellow tennis player that I've gotten to know is moving in a few weeks, and that just sucks.  I'm happy for her because she is moving to the place she wants to live forever (can you say Hawaii?), but I will miss hanging out with her.  I just hate saying bye to people, especially those I don't have enough time to get to know better.  Blows.

OK, now on to my husband.  He bakes bread.  Like homemade, from scratch, sourdough starter, kind of bread.  He's weird.  Anyhow, he takes over the kitchen and completely destroys it.  There's flour and crap everywhere, and then he doesn't clean it up.  I am so tired of cleaning up after his bread-making soires.  Yes, I know many of you think it's absolutely fabulous that my husband bakes bread.  It is, and the bread is actually very tasty.  The fact is, though, that I don't eat the bread.  Not a bite.  Because of my whole limiting carbs thing.  I can't take it anymore!  He also keeps telling me to get a job.  We'll be out running errands, and I'll point something out that I like, and he'll say to the girls, "Mom can get that when she gets a job."  We live on Guam, where Guamanians can't even find jobs, and where they are just now receiving tax refunds from 3 years ago.  I did not ask to move here.  Don't get me started on the job thing.  That's a whole other post.

Christmas is around the corner, and I don't know what presents to get for almost everyone.  Of course, my kids have lists a mile long, so I am almost done with their shopping.  However, I haven't even started shopping for anyone else.  I love the Christmas season, but I am having a teeny bit of trouble getting motivated this year.  The tree is up, and the house is mostly decorated.  The Elf on the Shelf finally made his appearance, and the outside lights are shining brightly.  The front porch looks like this, though:

Disheveled.  Can't get any kind of hanger to stick to the walls.  Maybe I'll just give up.  Not in my nature.  There's gotta be a way.  Oh, and the Christmas cards....yeah, those might be late because we haven't taken the pain in the butt perfect family picture yet.  I also don't have a lens for my camera because one broke on our cross country trip this past summer, and one of our precious new kitties broke the other.  I guess I'll be getting myself a new lens for Christmas.

On a positive note, I ran my first 5k in more than 10 years last Friday.  It felt good, and I am glad I did it, especially since I haven't really been running.  I also ran again yesterday with 3 great ladies who are motivating me to get out there and pound the pavement.  Oh, and our tennis team now has a name....the Boonie Babes!  Year-round tennis is delightful!

Yes, it was hot.  Yes, I was sweaty.  And even yesser, my face was beet red.

OK, if you actually made it this far, thank you for reading my rant.  Totally first world, totally shallow and totally stupid, I know.  Sometimes a girl just has to rant, though.