Welcome to Vegas.

Dammit, Janet. I got an email from Bank of America this afternoon that there was suspicious activity on my debit card. I figured that it was just the fact that I'd used my card at the hotel here in Las Vegas and the purchase had been flagged because it was outside of my normal purchasing area. Not. Some asshole hacked my debit card number and had made some test charges. I definitely never charged anything to Club Quarters. I checked the entry in my online banking and called the telephone number listed for the vendor and something very unexpected happened. Thenumber was for the Pennsylvania State Police. I told them the story and informed them that some company was stealing my information and they were listed as the contact. Luckily, Club Quarters had only charged $0.80 ton my card as a test charge and my bank caught it before they stole all of my money. However, I now have no access to my bank account until I get a new card next week.

Nothing like being broke in Sin City.



Do they even make LA Gear anymore?

I have arrived in Las Vegas!
I had a quick 20 minute flight to Charlotte, NC and then o had about an hour and a half to kill until my connecting flight left. I decided to grab some food at Salsarita's Express. Bad call. It was crazy expensive and the food was awful. Luckily, there was a gelato place right by my gate, so I was able to end on a yummy note. When I looked at my seat assignment on my ticket, I cringed. I was in a middle seat on a full flight. Damn. I was sandwiched between 2 large men, and neither one of them smelled particularly fresh/pleasant. Double damn. Then the pilot announced that we'd be flying against headwinds so our flight would be about 40 minutes longer. Triple damn. Sheesh...I hope I have better luck once I get to Vegas, or I'm going to be losing all my money in the slots. Just kidding. Kinda.
The large man on my right kept to himself (except for the significant portion of him rear-end that occupied my seat). I can't say the same for the man on my left. First of all, let me paint you a picture: This man was wearing a white LA Gear sweatshirt, white cargo pants, and some serious gold jewelry. When the flight attendant came by with the beverage cart, he asked for tomato juice. But he pronounced "tomato" like toe-maa-toe, like a jackass. He had a nasally Northern accent, so that made it even worse. And the smell of the tomato juice just added to his unpleasant aromas. To top that all off, he kept complaining that there was no in-flight movie. There weren't even screens. I politely nodded and inserted my iPod headphones for the next 5 hours.
It's been a long day and I am cranky. Can you tell? The 3 hour time difference isn't helping much right now, either. And I'm hungry.

Goodnight lovers.


There's an extra spring in my step.

Yesterday, I saw the first fabulous signs of Spring.  It wasn't blooming daffodils or dogwoods.  It wasn't sidewalk chalk murals in the driveway.  It wasn't my pollen-covered car.  It wasn't even the new Lilly Pulitzer sundresses.  What, you ask, was it?

I'll tell you.

A wasp flew up my pants leg and stung me.  Twice.

Happy freaking Spring, y'all.


All of my clothes are made of girlfriend material. *bah-dum-ching*

Staying true to myself, I had an awkward Friday night.  Here's where you're supposed to act shocked.

Friday was my friend Mojo's birthday.  A big group of girls went out downtown to celebrate, but in true Mojo fashion, the birthday girl finally showed up around 11:30pm.  That's about the time that this carriage turns into a pumpkin.  While the BFFAE and I were waiting on Mojo and the rest of the group to get there, I decided to make my way up to the bar and order some drinks for us.  I'm standing at the bar, squeezed between a very large man and a very drunk woman, patiently waiting on my drinks and my change.  Y'all, that drunk lady started leaning all of her weight on me, and smushes me up against the large man.  Then, she starts petting my hair.  No ma'am.  Nice awkward way to start the evening.

Everyone finally arrives and we are all standing at the bar talking and watching the NCAA games highlights.  A sketchy looking dude with chrome-plated sunglasses comes up and stands near me.  I can feel him staring and I just know that he's going to try to strike up some awkward conversation.  I try to ignore him.  He's persistent.  "Excuse me, do they serve beer here?"  Really?  You just asked me if they serve beer in a bar. You can't do any better than that??  I can come up with at least five cheesy pick-up lines that are better than that.

  1. Did it hurt? [Did what hurt?] When you fell from Heaven...
  2. Do you work for UPS? [No, why?] Because I could have sworn you were just checking out my package...
  3. If you were a booger, I'd pick you first.
  4. I'm no Fred Flintstone, but I can make your Bedrock.
  5. If I said I want your body now, would you hold it against me? {Thank you, B. Spears.}

Mojo decides that she wants to head to another bar.  Unfortunately, it's one of the shadier bars.  You know, the kind that isn't afraid to server minors with fake IDs.  That kind.  We run into her ex and his friends.  Oh, joy.  At last call, the BFFAE and I make our way to the bathroom.  We see this guy that looks really familiar and we realize that we went to high school with him.  He has always been on the goth side and a little socially awkward.  (This is where I up my level of awkward.)  We made small talk and he politely said goodbye and reached for the door to the Men's Restroom.  You know when you hear words coming out of your mouth and you know they shouldn't, but you just can't stop them?  That happened to me.  The BFFAE told him to have a good night, and I should have said something along those lines.  But I didn't.  What did I say? Have a good pee.


Glad I got that off my chest,


I ain't telling you nushin'.

I was a cute kid. I'm not afraid to admit that. Not quite sure what happened as I grew older, but I digress. Both of my parents have always worked full-time jobs. When Mommy Dearest's maternity leave was up, she had to arrange somewhere for me to go while she and Daddy were at work. Mommy Dearest is the youngest of nine children (but two of them died as children). When I was an infant, my Aunt Patty lived relatively close to us, which was about 30 minutes away, but the closest of any relatives. Aunt Patty kept me until I was old enough to go to school. She even kept me on afternoons after preschool until Mommy Dearest got off work. One particular day, I got in some trouble at preschool. (This was clearly not a one time thing, and I don't even know what I'd done to get myself into said trouble.) after hearing the report from my teacher, my Uncle David asked me about it and asked me what I was going to tell Mommy Dearest when she picked me up. My response? "I ain't gonna tell her nushin'." I was obviously a smart child. And obviously, the word nushin' has become a part of my family's vocabulary.

My Uncle David used to make my me and my cousins play the "quiet game" on long car rides. He had a different, and perhaps more accurate name for the game. He called it "1-2-3 shut mouth." I always lost. I know you're shocked.

In addition to. Ring a cute kid, I was also wise beyond my years. As I've mentioned before, I am an only child. Mommy Dearest dint have the easiest pregnancy and truth be told, I was a bit of a handful at times. In a good way. Let's pretend that's possible. My Aunt Patty took me shopping with her one day. Being an only child, I was used to having to entertain myself. I would talk to anyone/thing. I never met a stranger. (Probably not safe in retrospect, but I turned out ok and was never abducted. No harm, no foul.) somehow, I struck up conversation with an older man. Clearly, that was the normal thing for a 4-year-old to do.
Old Man: Do you have any brothers or sisters?
Moi: No sir.
Old Man: Well, why not?
Moi: Because my Aunt Patty is too old, my Momma is too weak, and my Daddy is too bald-headed.

See? Told you I was cute.

(In case you were wondering about the nostalgia...my Aunt and Uncle are in town.)



Condiments are the key to living large.

Here is a conversation that I overheard in the checkout line at the grocery on Friday.  Enjoy!

Cashier:  You know, they always say that the grass is greener on the other side.  Greener than what?? [Smiling, pleased with his philosophical observation]
Customer: I know, man!  You know that them people on that other grass are probably eating the same crud we eat everyday.  It just might be a different color.
Cashier: Yea, but I bet they get honey mustard on theirs. 
Me: [dumbfounded stare]

I was wearing my giant "penny" necklace that day.  The cashier asked me if it was a real penny.  Now, we all know, dumb questions deserve dumb answers.  So...I told him yes.  He asked how I got it so big.  I told him I squeezed it really hard for a really long time.  He totally believed me.  Somewhere, that man is squeezing pennies, betting his buddies that he can make them grow.  (I'm a jerk, but I'm ok with that.)

And in case you've never stumbled upon these sites, you should click:
Overheard in New York
Overheard in the Office
Overheard at the Beach
Overheard Everywhere
Celebrity Wit

Better late than never,

Flower Power

Sorry, that's a lame title.  Deal with it.

As you all are probably aware, I'm a craftaholic.  My recent obsession?  Flowers.  I've started making flower pins/bows/accessories.  It's a stress-reliever for me.  I craft while watching trashy television to unwind from my day.  Crafting is sort of like setting my brain on auto-pilot.  I don't have to think; I can just do.  Here are my ribbon flowers:

Sorry for the photo overload.  What do you think?  Anyone want one?

Glue gun burns and kisses,


Twinkle toes

Ohmygeeze.  I discovered the Freshly Picked blog today and I'm a little obsessed.  She has so many genius crafts and DIY ideas.  Here's one I want to try for myself:
{via Freshly Picked here}
Now I just need to find me a pair of leather shoes.  Maybe old cowboy boots?


They call me Mello Yello.

The past two weeks have been rough.  Work has been insane, and I feel like I've barely had a chance to breathe.  The migraines haven't really subsided.  Remember back on February 17 when I said I was migraine free?  Lie.  Shortly after I wrote the post, I got one.  For those of you keeping count, this is day 36.  Mother F.  They don't always last all day everyday, but that doesn't make them any better.

Yesterday was the day that I reached my boiling point.  I had a vent session with a co-worker and felt a little better.  I came back from to the office after being out with a client and I found this on my desk:
"A little something [Mello Yello] to help you deal with the [Airheads] in the world."  I love her.
My church recently started a Bible Study class on Thursday nights.  I attend a small church, so this is pretty exciting for me.  It's a class for adults (and I am clearly the youngest by almost a decade).  We are doing and in-depth study of Francis Chan's book Crazy Love.  I highly recommend this book.  I don't agree with everything Chan says, but he makes some really strong points.

I am awkward.  We know this about me.  I actually said the word "golly" the other day, as in "Oh, golly!"  I guess that's better than when I say "shit."  Or not.  

Head on over to my jewelry blog, Copper Alley, and see the necklace I'm rocking today.  I'm bragging.  You'll have to get over it.

Happy Friday!

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