If only I could say the F#@! word

Thursday May 24th:
 Deciding to spend 6 years of my life living in Utah was easily one of the worst decisions of my life (repetition intended). It definitely trumps the decision of wearing a flaming leotard for the jr high talent show. Also trumps that time I decided not to pee before my senior year prom rally where I had to land a back tuck in nothing but a cheer skirt and bloomers (talk about 'leaking' the truth). It even trumps all of the bad decisions I made during my 19 year olds self's, 'on a downward spiral because "I'm fragile, insecure, and experimental,"' phase in college. Living in Utah brings out the worst in people, as far as I can tell. All of you from/raised in Utah, you don't count because you're immune to it's effects--except all you idiots still wearing Abercrombie, hollister, and oreopostale or whatever the **** it's called (and oh ya, same to you e-tards still paying 300$ for some true religions and a bedazzled affliction tee. FYI, you're like 5 years late and need to get off steroids). ANYWAYS, one of my biggest pet peeves about this place is the high volume of it's residents who use a really asinine word for the F word. Now, I'm not going to say it (even spell it) for the mere fact that The Big Guy Upstairs could easily take me out with a tornado or lightning bolt without anyone even being suspicious.

 BUT, I know you've all heard the 'fetch' and 'oh, fork' and 'I can't flipping believe it' or whatever the case is. They are alllll stupid. And maybe you all think I'm stupid because I'm 'bleeping' mine out, but seriously, my mom reads this. Back to my subject (see friends, it's not you, it's me-I'll interrupt anyone's convo, even my own) OK, I don't know how we got here, but my topic is MOTHS. I ****ing hate moths, they aren't even just moths, their names should be ****ing moths. (I hope all of you living on tornado free ground will read this in your head with UMPH and vigor for that's how I'm intending it). As I was killing an ****ing moth tonight, I thought of this (previously mentioned) new prefix to their name and thought I would like to share it. That's when all those years in Utah started messing with my head as I tried to decide which 'mommy-appropriate verbish prefix' would work best..flippin, forkin, fetching... When I realized that I was being unfaithful to my California roots and should not mask it with other letters but merely make it more exciting with exclamation points and symbols...right?! Or not, who cares? MOTHS! I'm telling you, they are so disgusting. They are like the skunks of insects because when you kill them they spray all this really ugly brownish/camouflage-looking dust in the air. Seriously. It's so sick. I've said it before, it's making me bat shit crazy! Haha whoever made up that saying, I will pay you-well done. 

So basically I'm a pro on moths. I've read the top 2 links that come up upon searching them on google, including the moth wiki page. Apparently they live like 21 days and are afraid of light. WHICH you think they'd have figured out, but no, they are the most stupid species. Now, I'm not THAT stuck-up, high maintenance, or prissy, I do however have pretty reasonable standards regarding the fact that I don't want dumb bugs around me. Take flies for example. They were once maggots (which is unforgivable), they poop every time they land, they eat like shit (literally), they will inappropriately mate on your dinner, BUT they are smart enough to fly away when you come near. Moths don't do this. They are obviously startled by me, and there's no way they aren't horrified by my swapper and I, yet when they see me coming they STILL fly into my personal space-aka my hair, my face, my not-to-be-splayed-on-with-moth-dust clothes, and all my other parts. Like, really, that was the best place for you to fly? Maybe it is though, have you ever tried swatting something that was less than arms length away? You spaz out, back up, and go-let's all say it together-bat shit crazy.

 Friday, May 25th:
OK. SHIT JUST GOT REAL. I effing, forking, fetching, flipping HATE moths. Even more than yesterday. Ok. I've like seriously lost it. So let me just give you the scenario before I go into my story. So, my husband is one of those people who cannot sleep with any source of light on. I can't be looking at my phone, I can't have a nightlight, I can't watch tv, I can't browse my iPad, I can't have ANY light on or he has a hard time sleeping..like, he's even unplugged the clock because the numbers are "too bright.". And because he's been up every morning in time to get to work (on our new house) at 6, he goes to bed pretty early. (and side note, he's a really light sleeper.) So, because I'm soooo nice and thoughtful, I, for the past two nights, have made him sleep in the kids room (his parents other room) so that I can do my thing in the other guest room... And seriously, don't go thinking I'm mean, everyone knows how miserable it is to lay still in a bed, in a dark room, unable to move or do anything for the hopes that you don't wake up whoever you're sleeping next to-especially when you haven't shaved your legs and they are poking eachother-distraction is mandatory. Plus, I can't be the one to leave the room, I've worked hard killing moths and setting up booby traps to have a safe room, where my peace of mind can soar without fear of fluttering, wannabe butterflies who poop out sticky dust. Anyways, around 12:00am I finally put "Friends" on mute and drift into a deep sleep. The next thing I know, I'm aware of something crawling on the vulnerable part of my neck (my hair is in a pony, and my head is turned to the right to lay on the pillow). So there is something crawling on the stretched part of my neck (left side) and onto my face, and I'm like sleep sweating, so it's that like sticky, mucky feeling when you wake up in the night in summer. I finally register, thanks to the light of my muted "Fiends" episode, that an ****ing MOTH is crawling on my face. Obviously I flipped shit and like started bawling crying (this is the part where it was really horrible to be alone in the bed). I'm like only sleeping in underwear to so I'm totally offended because as far as I'm concerned this nasty moth just raped my face. So being basically naked always makes things way more intense when something happens in your sleep because you're so much more ready (in a bad way) to be violated. For example, if I were wearing a big puffy north face jacket and some snowboard pants, having a moth on you is like no big deal. Naked, it is a BIG ****ING DEAL! So I obviously scramble/fall/jump out of bed while the moth is going crazy all up in my personal space bubble. I finally get a light on and grab a swapper and literally, probably, looked like a zombie Helen Keller going ape shit crazy on this moth (or at least trying to). I want you to keep in mind that I'm bawling crying...still. So I knock the moth, barely, so it can still fly, but it was handicapped to the point to where I went to grab a tissue to pick it up for its delivery to the toilet, where I then planned to torture it and drown it slowly. :) I do watch lots of CSI. So, when I get back from retreiving a tissue, I can't find it anywhere. I start slapping the swapper against anything and everything in the room--still crying. All of the sudden it jumps/flys at me from MY COVERS!!!! Seriously, as if I wasn't messed up enough. Like, it was in my bed, trying to hide from me. Like, hey moth, hide on the wall or behind a picture, like all the other moths, you serial demon moth! Anyways, I eventually swat it down and then continue to swat it like 500 more times as its nasty moth dust is flying all around me, but I don't care, Im in rage mode....(but still crying). So I drag the corpse to the toilet, flush, and then (the room Ty is sleeping in shares a bathroom with my room) I start calling out Ty's name from behind the closed door. I couldn't open his door because I don't patrol his room and there are moths in there...just FYI. He, being such a light sleeper, wakes up immediately and hurrys into the bathroom to help me calm down (still bawling). Since I'm tired now and am willing to turn off my muted "Friends" episode, he comes to sleep with me in my not-so-safe room. He fell asleep to my, trying-to-be-silent, sobs pretty quickly, leaving me and my mind to come up with a solution on my own. (I just want to make this clear-I'm not a big crier. I only cry on very emotional occasions, like cry cry, I will tear up here and there, but sob/bawling is not my thing. This demon moth encounter was just one too many and considering it was so rude of it to catch me at my most vulnerable and nearly naked state, I lost it.) So after I ran out of tears I have this brilliant idea of sleeping with my head on my pillow, but with my head under the pillowcase (blankets up to my neck), which finally got me to calm down and fall back asleep. That is my demonic moth story of last night.

 I'm not done though, because I have one last, SMALL story from this morning. So I woke up this morning and there was a moth on the curtain. I mean, it's gross that it's near, but it was just, like, sitting there, still, on the other side of the room, so I didn't get that crazy. So I go get my swapper and swap it to where it's wings are all deformed and it was, like, dead. Anyways, I go to get a tissue and when I return, it is GONE?!?! WTF? Demon AND zombie moths? Bad luck on May 25th. So, it's like late afternoon and there is still no sight of zombie moth, but I will keep searching and keep you posted.
I meant to throw up more pics and update you on my non-moth life and the house progress, but that will just have to wait till tomorrow or near future-ish.
 -Shon

all kinds of dysfuncional

OK, still catching up.

I'll start will my confession. I have relapsed into my old addiction of caffeinated drinks. I am however, still in control a little bit, considering I only give it up for some Mt. Dew. I'm going to say it, even with it's weird coloring, the way it makes me bloat (leading to my father-in-law so innocently telling me how it looks like I've "gained a few pounds" in a healthy way), and the way it makes my pee turn weird colors, I really love it. I think it makes me look like redneck chic. Like I'm still cute, but I apparently have a 'Dew gut' hanging over my designer jeans. Let's be real, I'm just fitting in, and if that means goodbye to my size 26s and hello to my friends in the trailer park, I'll DEW it (pun intended). 

Ah, but I'm kidding, not about the Mt. Dew or my father-in-law's observations, but about being OK being called FAT! Being that I am loyal, and refuse to give up on my affair with Mt. Dew, I will change some habits, like eating without throwing up, and having Ty get all the workouts by walking to and from the fridge to get my drinks (I solemnly swear to get all of my own sodas-in the name of exercise, of course). And to all of those of you who gasped at my shout out to bulimia, calm down, I've tried it before and that is some hard work, I still can't figure out how to do it. False promises. Sorry. :)

On to some new and less politically incorrect subjects, I'm going to jump right into our new house. When we (Ty and I) came to Kansas in March our sole purpose was to find ourselves a place to live. We were hoping to find a rental, which is no fun, but considering there are a total of like 5 houses in our town, finding a rental that was up to our standards was pretty difficult. Syracuse is a really small town of about, less than, 1800 people. (around here, Syracuse is actually a big town, considering we have a tanning bed, a movie theater (plays one movie-only open on weekends, a bowling lane (literally, like one lane), and a stoplight. Anyways it's a big ranching and farming town. Most of the rentals are lived in by big groups of men that are here to work on these ranches and farms from Mexico, here to provide for their families who still reside in Mexico. So no rentals for us, because even though we might run into some bomb enchiladas and quesadillas, I'm not in the market for roommates, especially ones that don't understand the language that I complain in, nor I understand the lyrics to their music. :) You always need a good "come home and complain to" roommate.

Our lack of finding homes to rent, left us in the market to buy a house. This bad boy was the winner.  

Its a really cute house and was built in 1901.That little roof-like thing on the ground near the back windows is the entrance to the cellar. YEAH! It was actually really entertaining the first day I had Ty go down there, because he came up all stressed out and looking ghastly and pale, swearing that "people had been down there doing witch-craft and seances." Upon my immediate reaction to freak out, all the while being curious, I asked more about it. "What's down there? Do we call the cops? Is the house haunted? Did people get murdered here?" (I watch way too much CSI/scary movies/American Horror Story). All of my creeped out questions were responded with "Well, there were all these jars filled with weird things and there were all these candles, used and unused, like hundreds." My husband is very smart you see, however, this was one of those moments where he was having really bad luck with his thinking skills. As soon as I heard this, common sense popped it's head in on my creepy thoughts. DUH. Well, the jars were filled with canned foods and water to help people survive in the off-chance they actually had to stay in the cellar, and hunny, the candles are down there because when a tornado comes and sparkly red shoes aren't there to help us find the yellow brick road, we will need light, aka candles.

Back to our home, it has these awesome 10-11 ft ceilings, some awesome antique furniture, early 1900s wall paper, and the best authentic hardwood floors I've yet to see.  The house has so much character, I was so excited that I, yes, I, Shontel King, bought a gardening book. I know it sounds like a lie, but it's not, and now, I own like four. I'm basically a pro gardener, I am also lazy, trying to be both, proves difficult. :)

So more pictures. When we left a few days later in March we were prepared to come back to live in Kansas, come May, but staying at the Fullmer's house (Ty's parents) while our new house was going to need lots of TLC and remodeling to make it livable. Even the yard looked like it had been lonely and abandoned. It looked as if winter had swept all the life from the yard. Imagine our surprise when we arrived a few weeks ago to the Garden of Eden.

Too bad all that awesome greenery ended up being lots of weeds, which we mowed, cut, and then slaughtered the next week. Our yard, is still, to this day, just a bunch a dirt, waiting for tractors to stop moving around on it so we can start planting and seeding for a lawn. 

Anyways, that cool hundred year old wallpaper I mentioned earlier had lots of water stains and what not, so we decided that our first week was going to be taking down the wall paper. Ty and a worker got it all down, most of it proved very difficult since it was basically permanent from being there for-like-ever.  

This was lots of hard work. I am so glad I wasn't forced to help or anything. haha I DID, however, get the guys donuts and subway a few times. Not completely useless. :) So this was our first week here, the second week was starting a new roof. I don't know if you can really tell from the pictures, but the roof, the trim, and all of the shutters are this really ugly green. We have decided to keep the house white, obviously repainted, of course, and to paint the trim and shutters black, with a dark charcoal roof. The porch fence will be white, and we will eventually get a white picket-looking perimeter fence around our property, considering we've had the gnarliest of characters stop by to let us know they peered through the windows to see if we were home. Not just gnarly, I'm talking about, not-allowed-to-go-near-elementary-schools, creepos. We will have a much higher fence around the backyard to help hide our bathrooms and  bedrooms from the town's nosys. Back to the front of the house, I'm having stress and uncertainty as to what color the front door should be. I'm thinking black, white, teal?, or red. Not sure yet though. 

Onto a new subject, I'm going to share with you all my stabbing experience. I have this really sweet (sometimes) nephew named Van. He's quite the perfect little guy until he remembers that he's two and allowed to be crazy because he's a terrible two. I have pictures of his loving side and one on the borderline (i will share with you shortly. This is angelic Van.

Anyways, on this night (4 nights ago), Van and I were playing 'tickle monster,' where i would hide and as he would come near my hiding I would pop out and scare him, only to catch him, pin him down, hold his arms above his head, and tickle him. then he would try to tickle me and keep saying "BOO". blah blah blah. kid's games. Anyways, as the game was winding down, I decided to leave the room and head into the kitchen (this is my sister in laws kitchen) and check on some broccoli that was roasting. Ty and his brother Zeb were in the other room sharing their favorite inappropriate youtube videos starring the late Billy Mays and Holly, my sister-in-law went to put her daughter, Gretchen, to sleep.

Therefore, I was alone with little Van. And as we were playing before he got distracted by the movie "How to Train your Dragon," I thought I was safe to check dinner. ANYWAYS. so as I'm getting the broccoli seasoned I feel this really sharp (painful) poke on my back. I immediately think that Van has found himself a toy or something to poke me with, thinking we are still playing tickle monster. WELL, as I turn around to see what poked me so hard to actually hurt, I see my 2 year old nephew, holding an 8 inch kitchen knife as if he's about to slay a dragon (which he learned on that ever so appropriate CHILD'S movie).  Anyways, I obviously freaked out, as did Ty and Van's parents as they heard me screaming for my life (I tend to be somewhat over-dramatic at times). Poor Van was so scared and felt so bad that he started crying and proceeded to give me lots of kisses the rest of the night-turning back to his angelic side. haha I'm obviously not too ready to have kids around because I'm to blame for leaving the knife too close to the edge of the countertop. I'm afraid I'm no longer the top choice for babysitting, but it is pretty badass that I have a papercut sized scab on my back from being stabbed!- it literally was a papercut, hardly a stab. Semantics, who cares. Anyways, I like to think that I survived a Chucky-like incident. As Destiny Child once said, "I'm a survivor." (Shoutout to Holly!!) haha. 

Resemblence? anyone? haha Anyways, back to things more important, doesn't that kid have cute style. My sister-in-laws kids have the cutest clothes, especially for being out in Kansas. Seriously, don't they know that they're not going too fit in unless they keep those teeth knocked out and get a 'dew' gut going on. :) No, but seriously, this little town is so full of country-ness. It's like living in a country music video. Everyone I super nice, well-groomed, and hard-working. I'm seriously only in the donut shop every morning ONLY to look for Toby Keith and Luke Bryan look alikes. "Who's your Daddy?" You Toby, yes, you. :) 

Actually, a big shout out to my dad for all the help moving and for driving the infamous ECHO out to Kansas-with it's lack of cruise-control and all. Thanks.

My dad and I at the beach, long before the sad realization that I would one day live in boring 'ol Kansas.

My dad and Ty afraid of the ranch's pet turkey. With good measure though, it's seriously evil.

Ever since my dad stopped giving Echo all his love and affections, there's been a new little guy snuggling close to my old car. At least Echo has someone to keep it warm at night. 

 That's all for today, y'all. 

xoxoxo, Shon

mayonnaise, mustard...CATCH UP

McSLACKER

well obviously blogging hasn't been at the top of my priority list lately, which is ok, considering soooo much has gone on. First off, I want to complain about blogspot and the horrible app they have for the iPhone/iPad. I don't travel with my computer, and it would be really convenient if GOOGLE could get on that, please...like make uploading pictures and their placement easier to work with. The current app is so basic, I feel like I'm time traveling back to 2004. So I officially blame them for me not posting.

HELLO LAZY

well starting from, hell, who knows when, Ty and I have been BUSY. I got to quit my job selling jeans and folding t-shirts, all while trying to justify in my head that I was "selling a lifestyle" of comfort and spandex jeans. I loved my job as much as I could love a job. But let's face it. I'm a way better version of myself without one.

SLC to KS to CA to NV to SLC to CA to SLC to KS

Got that? Literally, I have been up, down, and all around the west side of the states in the last two months. It all started, obviously, at our late home-city of Salt Lake. From there, Ty and I headed to Kansas to find ourselves a place to live. We originally planned on staying for a week, which he did, considering he still had school to finish up, but I, newly freed from all job-like responsibilities, stayed in KS for an extra week. Yes, two weeks in KS, then from there a week at my parents in California, then from there a week with family in Vegas, then back to Salt Lake to pack, pack, pack. After being at home (SLC) packing for three weeks, I flew back to California (this past mon) to have some dental work done. Apparently UTAH sucks in the dental station too. I went for a checkup in SLC last November, and they told me that $7500 later, all my teeth could be fixed. I had two root canals and like 13 cavities, all of which were apparently lethal if not taken care of IMMEDIATELY. Not to mention, my wisdom teeth, which I didn't even know I had, needed to be removed, along with my left nut...WELLLL. After deciding that this over-tanned Utah DDS just wanted to rip a sweet girl, like me, off, I got my mouth checked in CA (seven months later) only to find that my wisdom teeth are fine, which I knew because I have so much damn extra room in my mouth (even after years of braces) that I still have get my thumbs on the either side of my two front teeth and try to push them together, in hopes no one will bring up childhood memories/fears of being told to floss with yarn. ya, well SCREW YOU!

 Anyways, my teeth were totally fine and the Utah dentist was just a prick, who, if I could only figure out how to be as cool as 'the girl with the dragon tatoo' I would anonymously turn him into the feds. ANYWAYS, again, my teeth are pretty and fixed with just a couple cavities-now fillings. So after a couple days in California, I flew back to Utah (recruiting my dad) on wed evening, only to get straight to packing, said goodbye to friends, slept on the floor, atop plastic bags laid out as a barrier from the carpet, woke up, finished packing, cleaned, got in the car (Dad got in our other car and Ty driving the truck/moving trailer) and got our moving started to KS. TOLD YOU. BUSY.

P.S. Along this journey (about a month ago) I officially became sober from all caffeinated sodas. OH YA. Cold turkey. 

P.S.S. current addiction: green tea and WENDY's. Hold cow. Chicken nuggets and a frosty. Heaven. Too bad the nearest Wendy's is now an hour away.

so many words, not even close to caught up. later.