Baby Elephant

I wish I could sit here and tell you that I feel 100% comfortable in my skin but the truth is, I feel a bit like I've got this MUCH BIGGER version of myself that wants to explode out of my skin much like something out of a truly awful Science Fiction film. I guess it all started way back when I was a million times taller than everyone else in middle school. Let's be honest, no one is pretty in Middle School but I was especially awkward. I was 900 feet tall while everyone else (boys and girls) was a cute 5'2"; I made a very bold choice in cutting ALL of my hair off which was a totally foreign concept to the middle school norm of wearing your hair past your shoulders; I had a mouth full of braces that again I made a very bold choice in choosing TEAL and PURPLE rubber bands to go on them and to top all of this off, I wore sweater vests. A lot. All this to say, that I think it was then that I began to feel a smidge out of place and that has just evolved into my adult life.

Fast Forward about 10 years when I got out of college. I started working and sitting in front of a computer all the time. Gone were the days of bad sweater vests, braces and awkward haircuts, but enter the days of packing on 30+ pounds to my frame. It was then that I started on Weight Watchers. I successfully lost the weight and once again was back to feeling somewhat comfortable. Glorious Glorious Days!

Well, I'm here to tell you I'm back to battling my weight and it's true what they say: it only gets harder and harder as you get older. 3 years ago, it took hardwork and dedication but the pounds started to come off almost immediately. Not this time folks. I have been on Weight Watchers again for about 5 weeks and when I stepped on the scale this morning, I had only lost 3 MEASLY POUNDS. 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wanted to throw my scale out the window and go into the kitchen and start stuffing my face. I was livid. I have been working out with my trainer, working out on my own, eating smart ones, eliminating soda, boxing up half my meals at restaurants, and doing just about EVERYTHING that I can think of to do. The only possible explanation I can come up with is that my body has not evolved like the rest of the human race and I am still storing up fat for the winter like a cave woman.

I can't seem to get over the hump. I suppose my only option is to keep plugging away at it and marching to the beat of the Baby Elephant Walk and hope that the pounds will eventually come off….

I’m back………

After a much needed hiatus (because that course I was taking was KILLING me), I'm back and ready to blog again. I think I'm going to stick with my original plan which was just to blog about the things that strike my fancy. What's on my fancy right now is that I have a client that is going to be the death of me I think. I'm not sure if I'm speaking Chinese, jibberish, or possibly the lost language of the Mayans, but these imbeciles refuse to listen or to take any sort of advice. I'm at the end of my rapidly fraying rope. I have half a mind to write them a strongly worded letter but with unemployment being awfully high right now and my tenure being awfully short here, I'll hold myself back. Although in the wise words of my friend Melissa Watson "Everyone needs a little F You every now and then." So true Melissa. So true. These people wore me out so bad that I had to go to bed at like 8:30 last night….awesome seeing as how I'm 26 and most people my age would just be getting started at that time. Oh well.

It's clients like these that get me to thinking and dreaming about doing something that involved me not having to work with idiots and women with RIDICULOUSLY large bangs (I'm not kidding when I say that one of these women is straight out of an episode of Full House where DJ had the most ABSURD bangs. EVER.) Like, I wish I could be like my friend Sara who is currently making quite a little business for herself by making very fashionable burp cloths and what not. Or I wish I could come up with something like Sara Blakely (well really I wish I could just work for Sara Blakely….the woman is a genius and a personal hero of mine). I just wish I could think of something so clever that Oprah would come calling and I'd then be a millionaire overnight. But that hourglass is quickly running out (Farewell Oprah!!! Daytime television will never be the same!), so I can pretty much flush that idea down the toilet.

What I'd really love to do…..really really really….love to do is become a bestselling author. I would love nothing other than to hobknob with people like Jen Lancaster and Emily Giffin. Can you even imagine?!? We'd meet for coffee and talk about our books and how much people love them (well probably not because Jen Lancaster and Emily Giffin are far cooler than me, but that's what I would do). The fame would be amazing but more than that, I would be doing something I loved and would be writing about the things I found fascinating and if people just happened to be wild over it, it would be a pure bonus. I could work from anywhere, work any hours, and take time off whenever I pleased and it would all be under the umbrella of "Creative Process." I lust after days like that.

Oh well…until then I will just have to put up with ridiculous individuals that use phrases like "romance the customer." Lady, I've got news for you….it's a sweepstakes. There is nothing romantic about that and the sooner you come to grips with it the sooner I can go back to daydreaming about topping the NYTimes bestseller list.

Cinderella

I'm feelling a bit like Cinderella right now. The time is drawing perilously close to Midnight and I don't have the allotted number of blogs in yet (still for my course…I know…I feel like I've been taking this thing forever). I hate being late for deadlines. It makes me a little nutty. It reminds me of this time in college when I had a huge paper due. I never pulled all nighters but this time I had to. I had no choice. My teacher was ruthless so I knew I had to get the paper in on time. I worked all night, finding obscure sources, making photocopies (I despise Kinkos) and trying to make the paper as flawless as possible. I finished the paper and rested my head for just a second. I would get up and get the paper in no problem.

Well, I think we all know where this is going. I fell fast asleep. I woke with a start and looked at the clock. I had 7 minutes to get from my off campus apartment to his office and it was at least a fifteen minute treck on a good day. I quickly threw on an oxford shirt and jumped in the car. I sped like a demon, weaving in and out of traffic and narrowly missing Freshman who were blissfully unaware of the pressures of senior year and what that will do to a person. I parked the car in an illegal spot and began hauling ass across campus. For four years, I had held very fast to my one cardinal rule: NEVER run on campus. You look like a dork and whatever you are running to has probably already started so chances are you're screwed anyways. No use committing social suicide by running like an idiot as well. But I RAN. I ran like I was the Johnson guy in the '96 Olympics with the pretentious gold shoes. I ran as if the hounds of hell themselves were chasing me.

And it was raining but I couldn't pay any attention to that. An umbrella would have slowed me down. So I reach the building and I'm breathless and exhausted and as my foot hits the inside marble floor of the building I began flailing about as if I'm some sort of Marionette and my puppetmaster is a cruel bastard. Every muscle in my body was trying to regain balance but with the weak mental state I was in and knowing I had missed the deadline, I succumbed to gravity as my paper flew about me in every direction. Luckily classes had begun so there were only a few stragglers left behind to witness my fall. They rushed to help me up and collect my papers, asking me if I was alright. Honestly, my leg could have been turned around backwards and I would have said yes and limped away to die in a corner. I was mortified and I was LATE. I took my papers and the little bit of dignity I had left and went up to my Professors office.

I softly knocked on his door. "Ummm Professor Moen, I'm sorry I'm late. I tried to get here time but…" my voice began to trail off.

He looked up from his desk and for a moment, I couldn't tell if he was going to eat me alive or if he felt pity for me. "Late? For what?"

"Our term paper. I know it was due at 9:00 AM and it's 9:05."

"Yes, you're correct. But it's due at 9:00 AM on Monday. Not today."

"Oh. Really?? Okay. Well, in that case…here you go." As I laid the soaking wet pieces of paper down on his desk. He looked over his glasses and pushed them back with his pen.

"Give them another look, will you? I have a feeling they may be…disheveled. See you on Monday morning" As I left, I could have sworn I heard him laughing.

I left his office and decided I would take the elevator down. No use risking falling down the stairs today too. I got home and as I passed by the mirror, I stepped quickly back. I looked like an utter crazy person. My oxford shirt was buttoned completely wrong resulting in an asymmetrical look and my hair was like a madwoman's. I had raccoon eyes and my pants were soaking wet. If he didn't know better, I might look like I had been on some four day bender. I was a wreck.

So I crawled into bed and slept for a majority of the day and then that night, treated myself to a nice long shower and a night out. Apparently this Cinderella turns back into a pumpkin at 9 not 12.

 

    

Blogging World

The more I think about this blogging thing, the funnier it become to me. We have the ability to read someone else's thoughts almost like we're reading their journal and yet we don't get chastised for it. Since I am definitely one who loves to snoop, this pseudo-voyeurism really appeals to me. I am constantly reading people's blogs and trying to get an idea of the direction I want to take mine. So I decide that I would give a shout out to those bloggers out there that I love to follow. Check them out when you have a chance!

www.ThePioneerWoman.com

The Holy Mecca of Blogs to me. This lady is a genius. Not to mention, she has a precious Basset Hound named Charlie who is really something else. I'm not kidding. He's great. This chick is cool. She lives on a working Cattle Ranch in the middle of Oklahoma and has four kids (whom she calls Punks) that she homeschools all the while writing a wildly successful cookbook and now her love story about how she fell in love with a rancher (and he's not too shabby himself) is now being made into a movie. Her site is great filled with funny stories, recipes, homeschooling tips, decorating tips and many other mindless wonderful things. She updates everyday. And she's hilarious.

www.Sixinthecity.com

This is another one that I love to read. This lady and her family moved from Colorado to an apartment in NYC after her husband got a job with a non-profit. Her adventures are great and she seems like a cool cat. Plus can you imagine living six people deep in an NYC apartment??? And no, she's not wealthy which makes this blog that much better and that much realer (is realer a word???)

www.nieniedialogues.com

Okay this lady fascinates me. She's been a blogger for a while and then was in a horrific plane crash that left her severely burned and fighting for her life. She blogs about the recovery and her struggles and she is really inspiring. Oh and not to mention, she's got four kids too. Wait, I just noticed all these women I'm reading about have tons of kids…

www.livetofeast.com

This is a friend's blog. He's a fun writer and covers one of my favorite topics : FOOD! He always goes to the newest coolest spots here in Atlanta so if you're local, take a look. Plus it's just a fun read anyway.

 

What are some of your favorite blogs? I read a ton more but I want to know what you like to read!

Fun Facts

I really love quizzes. Like really love them. So okay maybe this isn't a quiz but it's a list of things about myself that I thought might be fun to share with everyone. Some of you know some of this stuff, some of you don't but at any rate, it's always nice to take a moment and realize how strange you really are and then laugh and move on with it. I think like my favorite things list, I'm going to add a "Facts about me list" and as life changes and I change, I'll make additions and subtractions to this list. So Enjoy!

1. If you touch your nose around me, I immediately think I have a bat in the cave and will freak out.
   2) Chicago is my favorite city in the US. I would live there in a heartbeat.
   3) I love to sing songs and incorporate my dog's name into them. For example: "I'm bringin' Turtle Back...yeah...them other Turtle's don't know how to act...yeah"
   4) Every time my sister comes in town, my dad, my sister and I have a yelling contest on our back deck. The goal is to see who can yell the word the loudest and get through it without laughing. The word is ALWATS "elephant." I have never won.
   5) I walked through the entire Kappa Kappa Gamma Tunnel during rush and no one picked me up.
   6) I used to have EXTREMELY short hair. boy short.
   7) I would be a food critic if I could just figure out how to do it.
   8) I once acted like I was my best friend's mom on the phone so she didn't have to go out on a date with a guy. I think he knew it was me the whole time.
   9) I hate dishes in the sink. Literally hate them.
   10) I LOOOOOOVEEEE Alvin and The Chipmunks. They always make me laugh
   11) I have had my car towed a total of 15 times.
   12) I love scrunchies and used to steal them all the time from Jessie. It was payback for all the socks of mine she stole.
   13) My friends and I used to enjoy riding around on Friday mornings hungover at college wearing a shrek mask and yelling at passerbys. Don't knock it until you've tried it.
   14) I used to leave Popcorn out for a fox I had nicknamed Mr. Bojangles at our apartment complex in college until my father warned me that it was probably rabid.
   15) I have broken both of my arms twice and once broke all the toes on my foot.
   16) I still sleep with my baby blanket and can not go to sleep without it.
   17) I once almost wrecked my car in order to get into Sonic because I saw they were serving Diet Dr. Pepper.
   18) On the subject of Sonic, one evening late night, I ate two foot long coneys from Sonic. That's two feet of hot dog folks.
   19) If I could wake up tomorrow and be anywhere, it would be Charleston SC. And I would got to the beach with my best friend and drink gallons of mimosas. It is the perfect day.
   20) I will watch/laugh at Friends anytime it's on TV. It's a great show.
   21) The best summer of my life was spent at Frontier Ranch in Colorado.
   22) I was a competitive cheerleader. That's right. I love spirit fingers.
   23) I love Cocky. I seriously have a crush on him.
   24) I drove through the fence at my grandmother's farm because my best friend told me a ridiculous joke and I started laughing too hard. My entire family (immediate and extended) was there to witness the event.
   25) I haven't eaten Chik-Fil-A in 2 years.
   

   26) I think the way my husband drinks out of a water bottle is so weird. Little sips. GET ON WITH IT already. I think now he does it to annoy me.
   

   27) I HATE folding clothes and putting them away. It is the bane of my existence and I would pay someone to do it for me.
   

   28) I really really really want to be a in a Country Music Video. I think it has to do with my love of boots.
   

   
    

   
    

   That's it for now. But I'll def. keep adding.

Goodies

I've been spending a great deal of time on the internet shopping lately. You see, I've started back on Weight Watchers (Big FAN!) and I'm going to the trainer 2-3 times a week. I don't want to have to do this but the fact remains that I have to, so I begrudgingly drag myself there and count my points like a good girl. Anyway, I've been doing a lot of online shopping because I love to think of the things I'm going to buy myself when I reach my goal.

I've found quite a few things I love so I thought I'd post them here for you all to see

I can not explain why I love these shoes so much. They look like some sort of Medieval torture device but I also think they look super fun and really out there. Maybe with some skinny grey jeans??

Next item:

Now this says it's a market tote but for $400 I can not imagine putting my bottle of Light Ranch in there to slosh around and possibly spill out all over the place…and believe me it would happen to me. Anyway, this company is so cute and I adore these bags so check them out:

Visit www.fleabg.com. They are each individually marked with a stamp and no two are alike. Precious but not for Publix. Unless by Market Tote, they mean Bergdorfs……

Lastly, my obsession are these Tory Burch Snake Skin Flats. I love the them. And I will have them. No, I'm not kidding. If all goes as planned….I will be the proud owner of these sweet babies. I'm ruthless on Ebay.

 

I have plenty more to show you but you must be patient J

Know your limits.

Being a wife can be kind of tough. I have a wonderful l husband who makes me laugh every single day, but sometimes….sometimes he does things that I cannot for the life of me understand. One of those things happens to be leaving dishes in the sink (he has to be allergic) while another is finding, shall I use the term "unique" in lieu of an expletive, places to put everyday items so I can not find them and become increasingly frustrated as the seconds tick by. He's a tidy fellow but will go on these beserk cleaning sprees and once threw out an entire bag of flour in the kitchen for really no good reason other than I think he had whipped himself up into a cleaning frenzy and was intoxicated by the scent of Lysol wipes and Pledge.

However the thing that really really gets me is how he refuses to believe he has limitations. I've already told you about the bike shorts (I shudder to think of the image) but now let me finish that little piece up with the follow up story.

Yesterday, I had a date with myself. I went and got some breakfast and a huge coffee; I went to Nordstroms (I really do love that place); I went to the Trainer (I do NOT love that place but alas I was not blessed with some weird Swedish Bathing Suit model genes so there I must be); and then I went and saw Eat, Pray, Love by myself. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie but I'm not sure the lady next to me did. She was literally snoring halfway through it. It was a fantastic day and I left the movie thinking I would go grab another coffee and head to the Barnes & Noble where I could browse the books for an hour or so and then go home to watch a DVD set of "Frasier" (do not ask, I love that show and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I also LOVE the show Reba. Van cracks me up). Well on my way out of the movie, I felt my phone vibrating and assumed it was my sister or someone calling me. My beloved wasn't set to come home until today so I knew it couldn't be him.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

I couldn't be sure but it sounded like my husband but a much more defeated version of his normally chipper self.

"Hey! How'd the race go??"

"I can't talk. I just need you to come home and bring me pedialyte."

Great. So there went my beautiful Saturday evening. Pedialyte is never a good sign. It either means you've had food poisoning, alcohol poisoning, or you've done something absolutely ridiculous like try to ride 50 miles in the sweltering Georgia heat.

"Ok. Be there in a sec"

I stopped by the local Walgreens, got the Pedialyte and headed home. Now as I've mentioned before, my husband is an extremely tidy person. So when I drove up to our apartment and saw the mound of crap that sat outside our door and my mind flashed back to him saying one time "I don't care if we are dirt poor, we are not going to have a bunch of trash sitting outside of our house", I knew this was bad.

I walked inside and there he was. Lying on the floor, a shell of a man. I got down on the floor next to him and asked him what happened. I won't bore you with the details but needless to say it involved a deluge of rain pouring down on him, a race he wasn't trained for and brakes that completely gave up on him. He feel asleep at 8 last night and didn't wake up until 10 this morning. We had a long talk about limitations and it has now been agreed that he will only sign up for these races when he's trained for them. I'm not sure I can take many more surprises that involve bike shorts.

When the Dog Bites…When the Bee Stings

OH my has this been a long week. I am completely ready for the weekend and could not be more excited about the following things:

1. Eating a late European Style dinner with my dear friend at an incredible restaurant
   
2. Watching nothing but re-runs of Rachel Zoe and Frasier all weekend and lounging
   
3. A big workout with my trainer
   
4. A Massage
   

Thank goodness this week is over…I mean, it's been a killer. Really. And I'm talking about the behind the curtain scary movie kind of killer. So in honor of the fact that I cannot think about the rest of this week without wanting to hide under my desk and suck my thumb, I will tell you a story that shook me to my very core and caused me to question the universe and my place in it. Without further ado, I give you "Bike Shorts"

Well ladies and gentlemen, an event occurred this week that I was certain I would never have to deal with. You say for better or worse in your vows but you really don't know the true meaning of that until WORSE comes along and slaps you across the face like the mean spiteful bitch that she is. I was making dinner the other night in my teeny-tiny kitchen ( a source of serious contempt), seething about how I swore it smelled like cigarette smoke from our new neighbors above, the Clompy McClompersons (seriously LOUDEST PEOPLE EVER), when out of the corner of my eye, I see my sweet husband walking towards me. Not really paying attention, I thought my beloved was simply passing through in his boxers to get some clothes out of the dryer. Then I noticed he stopped in the doorway. I glanced over at him and then quickly my head snapped back!

"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!??!"

He stared back at me with a mixture of pride and delight. "My new bike shorts"

I gasped in disbelief. Here he stood in MY kitchen wearing THOSE things. Shiny, black, spandex bike shorts: the stuff Nightmares are made of. "You are going to be arrested. Those are indecent"

"No, No!" His excitement was palpable. Poor thing was unaware that he looked like Child Predator #1. "You see, these are going to help me during my bike race!"

"Excuse me you're what??!"

"My bike race."

"Oh okay. So Lance, when is this bike race taking place?"

"This weekend. 50 Miles. It's gonna be awesome"

Needless to say, I dropped the conversation after that and kindly asked him to remove himself and his pervy shorts from my kitchen. I'm certain it was some sort of health violation.

The House That Built Me

Today is my wonderful Dad's birthday! I am truly blessed to have the most wonderful father in the entire world. His example of what it is like to be a kind, compassionate, honest person is something I cherish every single day of my life. Not to mention the man is freaking hilarious and he is constantly making me laugh! His sense of humor is unlike anyone else's and he has the unique ability to laugh at the ridiculous and life and I like to think he passed that trait on to me J Happy Birthday Dad!! You are, have been and will always be my hero!

Last weekend I heard the song by Miranda Lambert called the House that Built Me and it really resonated with me. Having grown up in the house that my mother and father built over 30 years ago, I have a deep love and connection to my childhood home. My mom and dad joke about the things that are starting to show some wear and tear on the house but I can't help but feel a deep fondness to these little annoyances, not because I love annoyances (believe me I don't…I HATE to be annoyed) but because they remind me of the wonderful happy years I was privileged enough to grow up in such a home. Notice I said home…you see as I've grown older, I have really started to learn the value of a home versus a house. My parents built a beautiful house but more importantly they built a precious home for me and my sister. When I look back on my childhood I am reminded of how rare it really is in this day and time to have a home that was so filled with love.

So if I were to write the song, I would replace the word House with Home because I realize now that it was a home and the people that were in that home that made me who I am today. As I thought about this, I could connect every room with a defining moment in my life.

My Bedroom: The scene of many a back scratch and comforting moment; naps with my sister on Sunday afternoons and long talks with my sweet mother before I went to bed at night; the goodbye kiss my dad would come in and give me every single early morning that he was going out and working so hard to support his little family of four. In that bedroom I learned the value of telling each other that they are important and loved every single day of your life.

My Sister's Bedroom: The scene of many moments of hilarity and laughter and of sharing. Even when I was so little and would terrorize her prized Strawberry Shortcake House and its inhabitants, she was always so willing to share her things with me. I learned then that material things are material things and the act of sharing is an outward act of love and trust.

My Parents Bedroom: Always an open door and we were never turned away. Some of my favorite memories take place in their bedroom. Somehow we would all end up there at the end of the night talking and laughing and carrying on. Their bedroom was a place of solace for me and I still love to go nap there. It reminds me of being surrounded by everything you love in the world and being totally at peace. I pray I can make our bedroom like that for our children someday.

The Kitchen: Oh the kitchen. My favorite place. It reminds me of my mother's commitment to making sure we were fed not only physical food but emotional and spiritual food. We ate dinner as a family every night together and prayed together as a family in our kitchen. It is where we would greet our dad after a long day's work. The kitchen was an all purpose room. We were punished in the kitchen, we were praised in the kitchen, we were comforted in the kitchen and we were taught in the kitchen. The kitchen to me signifies the importance of a family unit and the bond that exists between people who loved you before they even knew you.

The Music Room: All I can say is patience. Patience listening to a young child try over and over again and messing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" up more times than she got it right; patience for sitting with her for hours while she tried desperately to read music; patience for driving back and forth, week after week, year after year to the lessons . I learned that Patience is not only a virtue but it is a gift we all deserve to give each other.

The Den: This is where we relaxed with each other and let the day slip away from us. This room taught me how to just "be" with the people you care about and that sometimes your presence is the only thing that matters.

I am grateful every single day for my home. I am grateful that I was given such loving, supportive parents that fought for my childhood and helped me grow into the adult that I am. I'm grateful for their parents that did the very same thing for them and it is my sincere prayer that I continue this pattern in my home because at the end of the day, a house is just four walls but the people who breathe life into it make it a home.

Happy Birthday Daddy!!! And thank you for the home that built me!

Let’s Start Fresh, Shall We?

The other day my friend got on to me because I had not been updating my blog and she was right. Although this started off as a class project, I have started taking it personally. A few weeks ago, in typical jump the gun fashion, I made a big announcement about the structure of my blog. Well, immediately after that I got in a funk (also very typical). I was only doing that because I felt like I had to reach certain benchmarks of what makes a good blog according to some articles and guidelines that were given to me. Although I know these guidelines were meant to help me find a cohesive string throughout my blog, they only served to make me feel like I was stuck inside a very small tight box. The more I thought about it over the last week and a half, the more I realized that the cohesive string in my blog was Me. That even though my blog wasn't mainly about one subject or another, the glue that was holding all of the pieces together was none other than yours truly. I thought really hard about the blogs that I loved to read and they were so vastly different. Some are very structured while others are loosey goosey; some were family friendly while others were a little more ridiculous but all of them so beautifully resonated with the authors' unique voice. All of this to say, I've decided to scrap my rigid schedule (I've never really like schedules anyway) and go on about writing my blog in the way I originally intended it to be: 100% Me and 100% inspiration. Some days I may rant on and on about the dishes my husband refuses to clean out of the sink (it's like he's allergic to the dishwasher) or I may share with you about the heinous Puggle that lives in the apartment above me that may or may not be possessed by a demon or I might even share with you some wonderful little find that I came across in my countless hours of shopping (I have a problem…), but I can assure you that every time I post it will be from My heart and from My head. I would never want you to come on here and read something that seemed flat and lifeless just because it fit into the pre-determined schedule. We have enough of that in our lives as it is (can we all say Monday Morning Staff Meetings??). Of course, this blog is an experiment and I hope that as I learn more and more about what it is I want to write about, this will change and grow in ways that I can't foresee just at this moment.

In celebration of a new fresh start, I thought I'd do something kind of fun. I started doing this a few years ago and I love looking back over it every now and then to see how I've changed. I think we spend a lot of time thinking about the things in life that we wish we could alter or the things that we don't like and we neglect to focus on the stuff that we really love about life. Today I'm going to share with you a few things that I love. Some are profound, others are silly, and some are just plain bizarre but either way, they are the things that make me happy and give me a fresh start when I'm feeling boxed in.

1. Jesus
   
2. My Husband
   
3. My Parents and Sister (even if she is my toughest critic ;-) )
   
4. Basset Hounds
   
5. Strawberry Ice Cream with real Strawberries
   
6. Cowboy boots
   
7. Alvin and The Chipmunks Great Adventure
   
8. Miller Lite on the Beach
   
9. Death at a Funeral (the original, British version…the other is just garbage…sorry Danny Glover)
   
10. Pickled Okra
    
11. Louis Armstrong
    
12. Clean Sheets
    
13. My wedding pictures
    
14. A good solid cry
    
15. Cheeseburger with Mustard, Ketchup, Pickles Only
    
16. A short, cotton robe
    
17. Korean Tacos
    
18. A grande non-fat latte
    
19. A book so good that you wish you could read it again for the first time because reading it for the second time will just never be as good
    
20. A cool fall day
    
21. Listening to my husband laugh
    
22. Talking on the phone with my best friend about nothing and everything
    
23. Chicago
    
24. Charleston
    
25. My garlic peeler ( I told you some things were weird)
    
26. New calendars
    
27. Rainy afternoons
    
28. New haircuts
    
29. Zedonks
    
30. Sunday Night Dinners
    

    
     

    I'll keep adding to this list as I make a mental note of all of the things that I love in life and that make me, me. Hope you're as excited as I am about this new revelation!
    

Let’s Go to the Movies

As promised, I wanted to share a little cultural activity with you. Last week, my husband and I went to go see Inception. If you haven't seen it yet, please go immediately. Leonardo DiCaprio is as fabulous now as he was in when I was 13 and he was wooing Clare Danes or letting that fat ass Kate Winslet stay on the door in the freezing artic ocean. She's not really a fat ass but did it ever piss anyone else off that it seemed like there was plenty of room for him up there on that GIANT door? That maybe that two timing hussy didn't need the whole thing for herself? I'm just saying…Anyway, I digress. I loved the movie. I thought the visual effects were stunning as was the concept and the story line. There was just enough suspense to keep it interesting without making me feel like I'd ridden a two hour roller coaster and every muscle in my body was tensed up which is how I feel after every episode of True Blood. I'm always waiting for some freaky supernatural creature to come flying out of a closet, a refrigerator, the laundry hamper, whatever. That show is unsettling but oh so fantastic.

Everytime I go to the movies, I think about a memory that will haunt me forever. Indulge me while I tell you this little tale. My sister (who told me today that the outfit I described in my last post sounded a little slutty) is four and a half years older than me. She is the best big sister even if sometimes I wish she would keep her opinions to herself (see aforementioned comment) and even when I was a pesky thirteen year old she would take the time to spend Saturday afternoons with me despite having, I'm sure, better things to do. One Saturday, she took me to see Good Will Hunting. First of all, I couldn't believe I was going to see such an adult movie. Second of all, I had recently cut all of my hair off (literally) and was feeling like a big badass (not the case) and this only reaffirmed that I had moved up a few cool notches (not at all). So I came sauntering into the movies and as I have always had a tiny bladder, I was instructed by my sister to go to the bathroom before the movie started. She asked me if I wanted her to wait for me and I huffily declined, informing her that I wasn't a child and that I would find her in the theater. Well, another movie had just let out and I got stuck in a longer line. By the time, I made it out of the bathroom, our theater had gone dark and I couldn't adjust my eyes. The theater wasn't that full so I called out my sister's name and heard her respond back. Still slightly disoriented, I moved forward and went to place my hands on the seat back so I could try to adjust my eyes. As my hands came down, all of a sudden I realized there was a person in that seat and I now had my two hands placed squarely on the top of this person's head!!!!!! I panicked but I didn't know what to do so after about three uncomfortable seconds of using this person's melon as a hand rest, I decided the only logical thing to do was disorient them further and make my escape. So I pushed the persons head forward with such force and took off sprinting to the other side of the theater. I could barely breathe when I told Kate what was going on and she almost wet her pants from laughing at me. She assured me that the person could not have seen what I looked like and that they wouldn't be able to tell who it was in the theater that had accosted them. We spent the next two hours trying to suppress inappropriate laughter and then when the lights came on, to my horror and my sister's delight it was just us and this older gentleman in the theater. The jig was up and I'm fairly certain he had no doubts about who his attacker was.

That feels good to get that off my chest. I must issue a public apology to the man that I gave whiplash to. Sir, I know you were probably just trying to spend a peaceful day at the movies. You had no idea that a short haired, bumbling idiot of a thirteen year old was headed your way. Sometimes bad things happen to good people and what can I say…No one's ever grabbed my head in the theater but I can assure plenty of other weird things have happened to me so Karma has come back ten-fold. I hope we can be friends and I hope you didn't have to wear that neck brace for too long.

I'm still a little wary walking into theaters even now…

If you weren’t aware

The most joyous time of the year is upon us! Going on right now, all across this great nation and the rest of the world, an event is occurring simultaneously that brings joy and excitement to many lives. It is a time for reflection, sacrifice, and giving. This is a most sacred event and I for one prepare myself for this time of year months ahead of time.

What time of year is it, you might be wondering?? It's not Christmas, or Easter, or Passover, or Yom Kippur. It's not Thanksgiving or any of the other myriad of holidays we celebrate and the moon isn't in the seventh house (or if it is, I have no idea…I don't pay attention to that kind of thing). So what could it be??

Well, I'll tell you.

It is the Nordstrom's Anniversary Sale!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Every year the retail store decides to honor its customer loyalty with a GIGANTIC sale. As if this retail giant doesn't do enough for their customers (I love Nordstroms and their amazing customer service, but that's a post for another day…), the sale isn't simply on the leftovers of last year. It is all wonderful, shiny, new FALL CLOTHES. And the discounts are pretty outrageous. I'm beyond excited about it. So far, I've done three mini shopping sprees and picked up these boots, this bracelet (in two different colors), this wonderful piece, and these yummy things. I plan on going back again this weekend. There are so many beautiful things for fall and I'm doing a closet re-vamp so this sale has come at the perfect time!

The reason for the closet re-vamp is I've discovered that my style is evolving lately. I seem to be moving away from the polo days of yore and walking confidently into what I can best describe as my Edgy Feminine stage of life. Don't worry, I'm not going Biker Chick or anything ridiculous. My ass would never look good that spread out on the back of a bike but I have developed a serious addiction to mixing rough textures with beautifully soft accessories or vice versa. I just feel like it is a surprising mix of being tough but being a lady and that seems to be my whole goal in life right now. Maybe not "watch-out-for-me-in-a-dark-alley-or-I'll-whoop-your-ass" tough, but business tough and maybe a little bit tougher in my personal life (I'll talk more about that later). I admire really strong women who stand up for what they believe in even if it isn't popular and I guess my new dress code is an outward manifestation of what I hope is occurring inside.

I have this dream outfit and I'm fairly certain I can make it happen. Imagine this: impossibly high black heels paired with a old school silk pantyhose that have the seam in the back (SO SEXY) a black leather pencil skirt and a soft cream silk blouse and red lips (I'm still looking for MY red lipstick but again that is a post for another day). I feel like if I could find this dream outfit, I could own the world. So there's a little peak into what you might be seeing in my closet this season. I've been inspired by the wonderful leather accessories that are out there this year and I'm afraid I might just like being a little bit edgy.

 

 

Where Do I Go From Here

After about a two weeks of blogging, I have discovered two things.

1. I love to write
   
2. I haven't come up with a cohesive theme of as to what my blog is going to be about.
   

   
    

So I decided to take a few days and come up with a plan. I love a good plan of action. I thought about what I like to read, what I like to do, where I like to go and I decided that I would write about all of those things. I'm not a trendsetter by any means but I love beautiful, interesting neat things and I decided if nothing else, that was a good enough reason to be qualified to write about them. Moving forward this is what you can come to expect from my blog:

Sunday/Monday – Cultural Day! When I update my blog on one of these two days you'll be guaranteed a restaurant review, a recipe review, a book review, a play review or something else along those lines.

Tuesday/Wednesday – Fashion Day! Here is where I'll show you something I've found that I think is absolutely beautiful. I have some incredibly fashionable friends with different taste that I draw a lot of inspiration from so I think this will be a lot of fun and definitely have something for everyone whether you are preppy or edgy or something in between. I do not claim to be a some fashion guru so feel free to laugh if I have a strikeout here and there J

Thursday/Friday – I'm going to reserve this day to tell you more about myself and how I've gotten to the point that I am writing a blog. I love this section and since it's about me, I will definitely claim to be an expert in this one area.

Now we're all on the same page. Let's get started!

About a week ago, my husband and I heard about a little thing called the 10:00 burger at Holeman & Finch here in Atlanta. It was featured on Food Network (LOVE THIS CHANNEL!!!) and we were intrigued. The deal with the 10:00 burger is this: at 10:00 every night Holeman & Finch makes 20 burgers and only 20 burgers. Once they are gone, they are gone and when I say you are out of luck, I mean it. There is no convincing the kitchen to make a 21^st burger. These burgers are amazing and they sell fast! There is one loop hole though. If you go on Sunday at brunch, they make 40 and you have a better chance of getting one. So my husband and I showed up early and were the first in line and man oh man were these .burgers ever delicious! They were cheesy and griddle cooked with homemade mustard and ketchup and I am fairly certain that I resembled Cookie Monster while eating one. If you haven't had one, you definitely need to go immediately! I am making it a personal rule to only go once a month otherwise I will weigh approximately 4,678 lbs but if I could I would go every day.

What I Learned in the Elevator

I walked into SCAD absolutely defeated. It was the nearing the end of the quarter and I was exhausted. I didn't particularly care about the papers I was writing or the presentations I was about to give. I had half a mind to turn around and go bury myself in my covers and watch Food Network, ignoring the hours of homework ahead of me and basking blissfully in the laziness that a rainy afternoon affords. I was tired, worried and feeling completely overwhelmed. I was getting closer and closer to D-DAY; when full time classes ended and it was time for me to find a full time job again. After not working for a year, I was ready to start again but I wasn't sure of what I wanted to do and although I loved my program, the opportunities presenting themselves were few and far between and most were unpaid. For lack of a better term, I felt defeated.

I bucked up and decided that I needed to just suck it up and go to class. No use wallowing in my own stormy ocean. I walked through the school to the elevator bank. For a time drawing close to finals, the school was surprisingly empty. I suppose other people had made the choice to stay home. The doors opened and I got in, jostling my books and my materials. The elevator doors shut and I was left to sit by my lonesome. The air was still and quiet and I was thankful for a moment of peace.

I closed my eyes and begin to silently pray. "Please God, reveal to me what it is you want me to do and where my place is. Show me where I'm supposed to grow." It was a prayer of desperation and I could feel my entire heart pouring into it. I just need some answers because I felt like I was treading water in a riptide. I didn't need a life preserver; I needed the Coast Guard. We were surviving on one salary with a student loan looming over us and no job prospects to really speak of. My husband was working his tail off and he was tired and I could see it in his eyes even though his natural optimistic demeanor would never say it out loud. I could see him calculating the numbers in his head and the worry would sneak through.

I whispered the prayer over and over and then opened my eyes. All of a sudden I noticed a small flashing light out of the corner of my eye that hadn't been there when I got in. I looked down and at the very very bottom of the numbers on the control panel of the elevator was a small round button. It was the source of the flashing and I had never noticed this button before. I looked closer to read what it said.

Help Is on the Way.

It only flashed about six times but the message was abundantly clear. My prayers had been heard and my help was on the way. I just needed to have faith; Faith in myself and faith in the One that loves me. I instantly felt a wave of relief wash over me and I took a deep breath.

I stepped out of the elevator a different person that day. When life begins to get overwhelming and complicated, when the storms begin to thunderously roll in, when my little boat seems to be capsizing; Help Is On The Way.

It might as well have been a giant neon sign, but that little button changed my life.

 

God Save the Queen

Last November, I got married. Of course in doing so, there inevitably come some very big changes, most notably your name and (bom ba bommmmmm!!!!!) your bank account. Now having had my very own bank account since I was 15 and having worked very very hard to build up a nice little nest egg, I was somewhat hesitant to combine accounts. But again I sought the counsel (do you see a theme developing here?? I can very rarely do anything without getting at least 6 opinions on the matter…it's a sick game I like to play because most of the time I listen to none of them and forge ahead with what I originally intended on doing) and this time I actually took the advice of pretty much everyone and decided to take the plunge into join account land. However, if I was going to have to share accounts, I was hell bent on making the process as difficult as possible. It's just my nature. My husband and I shared the same bank but after a particularly nasty encounter with them (a story for another day), I decided that we just needed to find a new place to call banking home. After months and months of research, we finally landed on one. The day we went in to change accounts I was horribly nervous…visibly shaken and highly irritable (a combination that will more often than not lead to what my mother likes to call a Nuclear Meltdown). My husband (God Bless His Sweet Soul) was feeling the effects of this and normally a levelheaded bloke, he became a tad unhinged as well and forgot to bring any money with him to deposit in to the new accounts and when asked what his mother's maiden name was proceeded to reply, "Rebecca." This kind of behavior threw me further into the death spin of crazy and by the time we left, I had to be by myself for a couple of hours, leaving half of the banking duties undone, to be tackled another yet to be determined day. That was a month ago. Just yesterday I was able to muster up the courage to finish the deed and close out my old account.

Now as I mentioned before, I have absolutely no feelings of love towards my old bank anymore. I equate my relationship with them to the bad boyfriend that you just cannot stand but find it damn near impossible to stop answering their phone calls. So yesterday when I made my way there, I felt almost smug as if I had accomplished a large breakthrough (I'm all about breakthroughs) and was ready to call it quits with this toxic relationship. In fact, I practiced the break up conversation on the way there. It went something like this:

Bank Rep: "And Ma'am, can you tell us why you are closing your account with us today?"

Righteous Me: "Well not that it's frankly any of your business, but I have been appalled at your treatment of a long time customer. You should be ashamed, ASHAMED, of yourselves! Now give me my money and get out of my sight you filthy animal!!!"

(Bank Rep hands me my check and scampers off wailing)

What really happened went something like this:

Bank Rep: "And Ma'am, can you tell us why you are closing your account with us today"

Me: "Ummmmmm, wellllllllll, (LONG PREGNANT PAUSE) my husband and I are moving" (I panicked…and then panicked some more as I realized this bank is EVERYWHERE)

Bank Rep: "Oh well, where are you moving to?"

Panicked Me: "London."

LONDON?!?!?! LONDON?!?!?!?! What ensued thereafter was an encounter built on lies. I would like to say I blacked out and can't remember the details, but that too would be a lie. There were more details thrown out about my new life in London and the adventures that awaited us there. I even have a few restaurant suggestions if anyone is actually headed that way sometime soon.

I guess when it comes down to it, I was too worried about hurting this strangers feelings. It's not as if her great great great grandfather had founded the stupid bank and I was spitting on his grave by telling the truth. I told my husband about it and all he had to say afterwards was "well did you get the money?" and I said "yes, but with a price. My dignity"

Anyway, the deed is done and now after entirely too much rigamaroll we share one account and I have to say, it's not that bad. In fact it's pretty comforting to know that we really are in this thing together and at least if I do have to move to London, I'm not going alone.

For now, all I have to say for myself is "God Save the Queen!"

The Beginning

I have thought for a long time about where to begin my story of my life as a social twit. I have tried to think if there was one defining moment that sealed my fate or if it was just a gradual natural progression. I have sought the counsel of my longtime peers, my husband, my parents and my harshest critic, my sister and none of them seem to think it was a meteor-striking-the-earth moment or a series of experiences that led to the ultimate final culmination of ridiculous behavior. Instead, they all seem to have the same assessment: "I think you were just born this way."

And truthfully, I believe this might be exactly what happened. After years and years of searching for answers, I finally had a breakthrough moment. I couldn't help it. I was born this way! I was born to attract all the Grade A Weirdos in the grocery store, put myself into every possible awkward scenario, and inevitably make an ass out of myself at pretty much every juncture. This revelation was one I can only adequately describe as a rebirth of sorts. I was born this way!! I could no longer be held accountable for my actions no more than a person with Terrets can be blamed for their unfortunately timed outbursts. I was a victim; an untreated patient if you will and instead of trying to hide my genetic disposition, I was now proudly going to wave my banner high.

Almost immediately, I began to embrace what I had long considered a misfortune and began to really explore the opportunities this was going to provide me. I wasn't going to seek out awkward situations or potentially embarrassing moments but if they presented themselves, I was going to meet them head on with gusto and poise and an appreciation for the unexpected in life. I was a pioneer of sorts and no social norms were going to keep me down.

So on my first day as a new pioneer, I donned my new pair of pants and a snazzy new shirt, some fantastic new MAC eyeliner and headed out the door. Feeling as though I might need all the reinforcement I could get, I stopped at the local coffee joint and patiently waited in line. Standing behind me was an older gentleman, early sixties I would say, and I noticed he was staring at me rather intently as I moved up in line. Figuring he was just one of those rude individuals who doesn't know that staring can be misconstrued as an act of aggression, I chose not to ask him if he would like to take a picture and tried to ignore him. All of a sudden I heard him mutter "Sexy" in a barely audible voice. This was enough. I can take a little staring and truth be told, enjoy it from time to time but when the cat calling and name calling begins, you know you are just mere moments away from a full on grope so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I turned around giving him my best "F Off Buddy" look and said "Excuse Me?" The gentleman (if you can even call that pervert a gentleman) said very matter of factly, "You're a six." I was appalled. Here this a-hole was, judging me like some heffer at the local county fair and grading me on my choice meat. Well, no sir. I was not going to take this sort of behavior. I quickly replied back "Yeah and I'm married so I'm someone else's six, thank you very much," and turned on my heels and stomped out of the door. Under my normal circumstances, I would have probably just let it slide and turned as red as the soles of my shoes. Instead I showed that FDA Livestock Inspector who was really in charge.

I strutted into my office feeling overly confident, proud of the start I had made to rise above my inherent circumstances and walked into the 9 AM staff meeting, ready to regale my fellow co-workers with my triumph. Just as I was beginning to strut my peacock feathers, my boss Meg came in and quietly whispered "You still have the size sticker on the side of your pants!" With that, I quickly realized the sad truth that with some things, rising above is just not an option. Better luck tomorrow I suppose.

PS – to the gentleman I have called an a-hole, a pervert, and effectively told to F- OFF, I truly do apologize. I can't be helped and they don't make medicine to treat this sort of thing. God Bless.