I'm a believer that sometimes you say things and but those ideas out into the world, and they are that more likely to happen. I believe you can jinx people. Call me weird or superstitious or whatever. In my last post, I mentioned that I am afraid of my grandparents passing away. Well, we got a call on December 23 that Granddaddy had been taken to the hospital by ambulance. I will spare you the details, but apparently he has an infection somewhere in his body that has his white blood cell count elevated, has him dehydrated, has him slightly delirious, in pain, and he lost some blood. And they still can't find the source of the infection. We have been getting reports from family members who live near them in Alabama, and we thought he was improving. Apparently not. The nurses brought in DNR and Living Will paperwork last night. I'm angry that all of this is happening. I'm angry that they have brought out the paperwork. Until recently, my 91 year-old Granddaddy had been going to work everyday, and now it's like the doctors are giving him subpar care because he's old. Old people get sick and die. That's not ok with me. He's supposed to be ok. He's supposed to celebrate his 71st wedding anniversary with my Grandmother in January. He's supposed to see me get married. I'm trying to say prayers and stay optimistic, but I'm angry. To top it all off, we also found out yesterday that my Grandmother's only living brother was put on Hospice.
I know I owe y'all a post about Christmas, and that will come later. This is consuming all out my thoughts right now. Prayers and thoughts are appreciated.
A
12.30.2010
12.22.2010
If we're going to be BFFs, you should probably know these important facts about moi. Just sayin.'
So I went to this lovely blog (Deals, Steals and Heels):
And I found this cool post that she got from this blog (Little Miss Momma):
If you want to be one of my besties, you should know these key facts about moi.
I am a picky eater. Get used to it. If it's green and/or healthy, I probably don't like it. And I don't like steak, no matter how you cook it.
I HATE bugs. Roaches and spiders give me the heebeejeebees. (Yes, that is how I think that word should be spelled.) I get paralyzed with fear.
I love most things in excess: too much sleep, too much ketchup/ranch/salsa/cheese on my food, talk too much, talk too loud, stay up too late, spend too much...you get the picture.
Even though I babysit all the time, I worry that I won't be a good mother. On top of that, I worry that I won't ever find someone who wants to settle down and have children with me.
I can't sneeze just once. I average 6 at a time. And they are tiny. I've been told I sound like a kitten.
I judge you when you use poor grammar.
I am a TV/movie/trivia junkie. I know more random facts than any human should.
Dr. Pepper flows through my veins. I'm allergic to diet drinks (aspartame) so only the real thing for me. Want to make me vom? Give me a diet soda. But seriously, I get violently ill, so don't.
I have a serious problem telling people "no." I'd rather suffer in silence to make them happy. Even people I don't really like. I hate that about myself sometimes.
I hate confrontation. It makes me uncomfortable and want to crawl in a hole.
I don't like touching certain things. I don't like touching food when I'm cooking (especially raw meat or squishy things) and I hate washing dishes without gloves. It grosses me out. I'm a wimp.
Rude people irritate me. It doesn't take much effort to be polite, so there's not excuse not to be. Maybe that's my southern upbringing, or maybe that's The Golden Rule.
I go on kicks where I only want to eat one certain food for days on end. Chips and salsa is a big one.
Exercising is torture for me. Maybe because I'm so accident-prone?
Comments and new followers on my blog make me immensely happy. It makes me feel like I'm writing for a purpose.
I worry that my jewelry business will fail.
I dread the day that my grandparents pass away. Granddaddy is 91 and Grandmother will be 90 in January. They are the only set of grandparents I've ever known (Mommy Dearest's parents had both died by the time she was in college).
I have a potty mouth at times. I guess it really took a turn for the worst when I dated a New Yorker (The Ex).
I bite my nails.
I have ugly feet.
I'm a total klutz.
I have an online shopping problem. Sometimes, my bank account cries.
I love musicals. If I could sing, I would want my life to be just like Glee.
I like to be on the left when I'm in pictures. That's my "good side." That's vain, but I broke my jaw when I was 22 months old and my face isn't quite symmetrical. I notice it more than other people.
I love Princess Fiona. Best cat ever. Worst cat ever. It all depends on which day you ask.
The smells of rubber cement and Sharpies makes me happy. I hate the smell of gasoline.
I'm a natural blonde. I have never, and will never, dye or highlight my hair.
I have anxiety attacks sometimes and I can get claustrophobic. It tends to hit me without warning.
I love to craft. It's an addiction. I always have multiple projects going on at once. Kind of like decorating my apartment...I've lived there since March 2009 and it's not done yet. I may or may not have at least 2 mirrors leaning against the wall, waiting to be hung.
I love books, but I have to be in the mood.
I hate Harry Potter. Don't try to convince me otherwise. Move on.
I would love it if you participated in this and shared your answers with me! (hint, hint)
Besties forever and ever,
A
If you want to be one of my besties, you should know these key facts about moi.
I am a picky eater. Get used to it. If it's green and/or healthy, I probably don't like it. And I don't like steak, no matter how you cook it.
I HATE bugs. Roaches and spiders give me the heebeejeebees. (Yes, that is how I think that word should be spelled.) I get paralyzed with fear.
I love most things in excess: too much sleep, too much ketchup/ranch/salsa/cheese on my food, talk too much, talk too loud, stay up too late, spend too much...you get the picture.
Even though I babysit all the time, I worry that I won't be a good mother. On top of that, I worry that I won't ever find someone who wants to settle down and have children with me.
I can't sneeze just once. I average 6 at a time. And they are tiny. I've been told I sound like a kitten.
I judge you when you use poor grammar.
I am a TV/movie/trivia junkie. I know more random facts than any human should.
Dr. Pepper flows through my veins. I'm allergic to diet drinks (aspartame) so only the real thing for me. Want to make me vom? Give me a diet soda. But seriously, I get violently ill, so don't.
I have a serious problem telling people "no." I'd rather suffer in silence to make them happy. Even people I don't really like. I hate that about myself sometimes.
I hate confrontation. It makes me uncomfortable and want to crawl in a hole.
I don't like touching certain things. I don't like touching food when I'm cooking (especially raw meat or squishy things) and I hate washing dishes without gloves. It grosses me out. I'm a wimp.
Rude people irritate me. It doesn't take much effort to be polite, so there's not excuse not to be. Maybe that's my southern upbringing, or maybe that's The Golden Rule.
I go on kicks where I only want to eat one certain food for days on end. Chips and salsa is a big one.
Exercising is torture for me. Maybe because I'm so accident-prone?
Comments and new followers on my blog make me immensely happy. It makes me feel like I'm writing for a purpose.
I worry that my jewelry business will fail.
I dread the day that my grandparents pass away. Granddaddy is 91 and Grandmother will be 90 in January. They are the only set of grandparents I've ever known (Mommy Dearest's parents had both died by the time she was in college).
I have a potty mouth at times. I guess it really took a turn for the worst when I dated a New Yorker (The Ex).
I bite my nails.
I have ugly feet.
I'm a total klutz.
I have an online shopping problem. Sometimes, my bank account cries.
I love musicals. If I could sing, I would want my life to be just like Glee.
I like to be on the left when I'm in pictures. That's my "good side." That's vain, but I broke my jaw when I was 22 months old and my face isn't quite symmetrical. I notice it more than other people.
I love Princess Fiona. Best cat ever. Worst cat ever. It all depends on which day you ask.
The smells of rubber cement and Sharpies makes me happy. I hate the smell of gasoline.
I'm a natural blonde. I have never, and will never, dye or highlight my hair.
I have anxiety attacks sometimes and I can get claustrophobic. It tends to hit me without warning.
I love to craft. It's an addiction. I always have multiple projects going on at once. Kind of like decorating my apartment...I've lived there since March 2009 and it's not done yet. I may or may not have at least 2 mirrors leaning against the wall, waiting to be hung.
I love books, but I have to be in the mood.
I hate Harry Potter. Don't try to convince me otherwise. Move on.
I would love it if you participated in this and shared your answers with me! (hint, hint)
Besties forever and ever,
A
Labels:
random
Buddy the Elf, what's your favorite color?
I have been extremely slack with posting lately. Don't worry, you haven't missed much. I've been working and making jewelry and babysitting and trying to stay well. Daddy has bronchitis and Mommy Dearest has an upper respiratory infection. I fear that I'm coming down with a deadly combination. Stuffy head, sore throat, lots of snot, coughing, sneezing...awesomeness.
We celebrated the BFFAE's birthday on Friday. I did my best to orchestrate a get together, but a big chunk of people couldn't make it. It was lots of fun. Two of our best friends from high school days came (M.Elmo an Vron). We had about 12 in all. Of the 12, four of us wore argyle sweaters. We. Are. Old. After a very long dinner, we went to another bar to listen to a live band.
Saturday, my family trekked down to Alabama for Christmas with Daddy's side of the family. It was a slightly smaller gathering than normal...only 19 people. We have moved away from giving gifts, so it was just an afternoon of food, games, and conversation.
Sunday, we had Christmas with Mommy Dearest's side of the family. We had a huge spread for lunch. You'd have thought it was Thanksgiving all over again! There were about 27 people there. Since Mommy Dearest is the baby of 9, there are 19 years difference in age between her and her her oldest sister. My Aunt Joan (the oldest) passed away in January of 2008. She has 2 sons, one of which has a daughter a few years older than me. That being said, the other has a daughter that is 10 years old and her name is Skylar. Skylar desperately wanted to learn how to play the piano/keyboard, but had never had a single music lesson. I took it upon myself to Google some Christmas songs to teach her. Bear in mind, I have not touched a piano since I quit lessons in the 7th grade. I "relearned" how to read sheet music so that I could teach her some basic Christmas songs. I numbered her fingers, and wrote down a string of numbers for her to play. That was much easier than trying to teach her how to read music. She successfully learned "Jingle Bells" and "Deck the Halls." Sweet kid.
I have way too much to do and literally no time in which to do it. I haven't wrapped a single gift, and I'm still waiting for some to arrive via UPS. Nothing like waiting until the last minute...
Daddy is having knee and ankle surgery on Thursday. Yes, that would be December 23, two days before Christmas. Thanks. I will be spending my Christmas vacation playing nurse, all while trying to relax and not catch "the crud." I wonder how successful I will be...
The BFFAE and Mr. S flew out this morning, bound for Mexico for the holidays. Bon Voyage!
A special thanks to S.E.Dubs for bringing me coffee and a muffin this morning. That's probably the only reason I am still (barely) awake.
I'll post pictures and more stories later. Right now, I'm trying extremely hard to not fall asleep on my keyboard. Eyelids...heavy...
Snuggles,
A
We celebrated the BFFAE's birthday on Friday. I did my best to orchestrate a get together, but a big chunk of people couldn't make it. It was lots of fun. Two of our best friends from high school days came (M.Elmo an Vron). We had about 12 in all. Of the 12, four of us wore argyle sweaters. We. Are. Old. After a very long dinner, we went to another bar to listen to a live band.
Saturday, my family trekked down to Alabama for Christmas with Daddy's side of the family. It was a slightly smaller gathering than normal...only 19 people. We have moved away from giving gifts, so it was just an afternoon of food, games, and conversation.
Sunday, we had Christmas with Mommy Dearest's side of the family. We had a huge spread for lunch. You'd have thought it was Thanksgiving all over again! There were about 27 people there. Since Mommy Dearest is the baby of 9, there are 19 years difference in age between her and her her oldest sister. My Aunt Joan (the oldest) passed away in January of 2008. She has 2 sons, one of which has a daughter a few years older than me. That being said, the other has a daughter that is 10 years old and her name is Skylar. Skylar desperately wanted to learn how to play the piano/keyboard, but had never had a single music lesson. I took it upon myself to Google some Christmas songs to teach her. Bear in mind, I have not touched a piano since I quit lessons in the 7th grade. I "relearned" how to read sheet music so that I could teach her some basic Christmas songs. I numbered her fingers, and wrote down a string of numbers for her to play. That was much easier than trying to teach her how to read music. She successfully learned "Jingle Bells" and "Deck the Halls." Sweet kid.
I have way too much to do and literally no time in which to do it. I haven't wrapped a single gift, and I'm still waiting for some to arrive via UPS. Nothing like waiting until the last minute...
Daddy is having knee and ankle surgery on Thursday. Yes, that would be December 23, two days before Christmas. Thanks. I will be spending my Christmas vacation playing nurse, all while trying to relax and not catch "the crud." I wonder how successful I will be...
The BFFAE and Mr. S flew out this morning, bound for Mexico for the holidays. Bon Voyage!
A special thanks to S.E.Dubs for bringing me coffee and a muffin this morning. That's probably the only reason I am still (barely) awake.
I'll post pictures and more stories later. Right now, I'm trying extremely hard to not fall asleep on my keyboard. Eyelids...heavy...
Snuggles,
A
12.10.2010
I take dating advice from children and that does not make me creepy.
I realize that I haven't really had anything exciting to blog about lately. Hence the posts about pie. Tonight, I actually have a funny story to share. Sit back and enjoy.
I'm sure you've realized by now that I'm a babysitter extraordinaire. Thursday night, I had the pleasure of spending time with two of my favorite little girls, Ellie Belle and Pookie. (Those are not their real names, but that's what I call them and that's what matters.) Today is Ellie Belle's 6th birthday. Happy birthday, Ellie Belle! Last night, EB casually mentioned her "boyfriend" in conversation.
Moi: So, is your boyfriend Spencer cute?
EB: Hes funny. That's what really matters.
True statement!
Moi: How do I get a boyfriend like you?
EB: You just have to wrestle with him. Then he'll want to be your boyfriend for sure. At school, I talk about how Spencer and I are going to get married.
Moi: What does Spencer think about that? (If I mention anything even remotely close to marriage to a guy, he runs for the border, changes his number, and sells his identity on Craigslist to the first bidder. Or he suddenly remembers that he's Jewish and has a deep-seeded fear of commitment and breaks up with me over the phone while I'm on vacation. I'm lucky like that.)
EB: He wants to marry me, too.
Moi: How did you get him to want to marry you already?
EB: You just have to wrestle with a boy like a hundred times and then he'll definitely agree to marry you.
Ooohhhhhh, so that's how you do it. Clearly it is easier when you're 5. When I asked her the best place to wrestle, she told me that you're only supposed to wrestle outside. If only I could make Ellie Belle's plan work for me. I have a feeling that I'd have very different results. By my tone, I'm sure you can tell that things with Golf Guy aren't exactly going as I'd hoped. I'm not really ready to get into all that and I don't want to make assumptions about it, but I'll probably share it all in another post.
Pookie is 3, and she is a firecracker. She calls me Alicagain. I've been called much worse. She got a "big girl bed" last week. It's not your standard twin size bed that kids usually transition to after a crib; it's a legit full size bed. I put her in her jammies, read her bedtime stories, tucked her in, turned off her lights and left her so I could put Ellie Belle to bed. I hear her calling out for her Mommy, so I go back in and check on her. I was caught by surprise when I opened the door. The lights were on, her jammies were in the corner, her diaper was on the floor, and she was standing naked as a jaybird in the middle of the bed. I asked her what had happened and she shrugged and said "I dunno." Priceless.
Ellie Belle kept getting out of bed and told me that she was just too excited about her birthday to be able to sleep. I told her that if she didn't go to sleep, she would never turn 6. She immediately said goodnight and stayed in bed the rest of the night. Lies work like a charm. I'm going to be such a great mom...in like 20 years. If I can ever find a boy to wrestle with and rope into marrying me. That seems very unlikely.
In other news, I bought Princess Fiona some light-up reindeer antlers. I'll get pictures of that soon. That may be a contributing factor in my singleness.
Hugs,
A
I'm sure you've realized by now that I'm a babysitter extraordinaire. Thursday night, I had the pleasure of spending time with two of my favorite little girls, Ellie Belle and Pookie. (Those are not their real names, but that's what I call them and that's what matters.) Today is Ellie Belle's 6th birthday. Happy birthday, Ellie Belle! Last night, EB casually mentioned her "boyfriend" in conversation.
Moi: So, is your boyfriend Spencer cute?
EB: Hes funny. That's what really matters.
True statement!
Moi: How do I get a boyfriend like you?
EB: You just have to wrestle with him. Then he'll want to be your boyfriend for sure. At school, I talk about how Spencer and I are going to get married.
Moi: What does Spencer think about that? (If I mention anything even remotely close to marriage to a guy, he runs for the border, changes his number, and sells his identity on Craigslist to the first bidder. Or he suddenly remembers that he's Jewish and has a deep-seeded fear of commitment and breaks up with me over the phone while I'm on vacation. I'm lucky like that.)
EB: He wants to marry me, too.
Moi: How did you get him to want to marry you already?
EB: You just have to wrestle with a boy like a hundred times and then he'll definitely agree to marry you.
Ooohhhhhh, so that's how you do it. Clearly it is easier when you're 5. When I asked her the best place to wrestle, she told me that you're only supposed to wrestle outside. If only I could make Ellie Belle's plan work for me. I have a feeling that I'd have very different results. By my tone, I'm sure you can tell that things with Golf Guy aren't exactly going as I'd hoped. I'm not really ready to get into all that and I don't want to make assumptions about it, but I'll probably share it all in another post.
Pookie is 3, and she is a firecracker. She calls me Alicagain. I've been called much worse. She got a "big girl bed" last week. It's not your standard twin size bed that kids usually transition to after a crib; it's a legit full size bed. I put her in her jammies, read her bedtime stories, tucked her in, turned off her lights and left her so I could put Ellie Belle to bed. I hear her calling out for her Mommy, so I go back in and check on her. I was caught by surprise when I opened the door. The lights were on, her jammies were in the corner, her diaper was on the floor, and she was standing naked as a jaybird in the middle of the bed. I asked her what had happened and she shrugged and said "I dunno." Priceless.
Ellie Belle kept getting out of bed and told me that she was just too excited about her birthday to be able to sleep. I told her that if she didn't go to sleep, she would never turn 6. She immediately said goodnight and stayed in bed the rest of the night. Lies work like a charm. I'm going to be such a great mom...in like 20 years. If I can ever find a boy to wrestle with and rope into marrying me. That seems very unlikely.
In other news, I bought Princess Fiona some light-up reindeer antlers. I'll get pictures of that soon. That may be a contributing factor in my singleness.
Hugs,
A
Labels:
babysitting,
dating,
Golf Guy,
Princess Fiona
12.09.2010
Let's hope the bees stop buzzing.
Let's get serious for a minute. I just read Raising Colorado's latest post and my heart sank. If you haven't checked out her blog, I demand encourage you to do so. She's fantastic and funny and just plain awesome. Recently, she's had to deal with some unpleasant things. Now, I've never met her, but I read her blog religiously and I follow her on Twitter, so I feel like I know her. Here's what I'm asking of my readers: take a moment and send some love/prayers/happy vibes/good thoughts her way. Do it for Troy. Do it for me. Do it because it's almost Christmas and that's the kind of love that Jesus is all about. Just do it.
This one's for ZDub,
A
This one's for ZDub,
A
Labels:
prayers
I'd like 3.14 pieces of pie.
Why is it so cold? I live below the Mason Dixon line in a state that is shaped like a piece of pie. Like apple pie. Apple pie is warm. Maybe it cools down a little when you serve it a-la-mode, but it's still mostly warm. And we have yet to have any a-la-mode up in this piece (I'm considering snow to be a-la-mode). It's ridic. It is currently 30 degrees outside and that's not acceptable. It feels like it's just as cold in my office. I have on a long-sleeve shirt, a fleece vest, a scarf, and a fleece jacket. And I'm still cold. Like freezing. Now I want apple pie. Crap.
I wish I had exciting stories to share today, but I don't. I have stuff going on, but nothing that I'm ready to broadcast to bloggy land quite yet. Still digesting it all. Figuratively speaking. I don't need to write about the things that I literally digest.
I'm going to go now and hope something exciting happens. Wish me luck.
Hugs a-la-mode,
A
I wish I had exciting stories to share today, but I don't. I have stuff going on, but nothing that I'm ready to broadcast to bloggy land quite yet. Still digesting it all. Figuratively speaking. I don't need to write about the things that I literally digest.
I'm going to go now and hope something exciting happens. Wish me luck.
Hugs a-la-mode,
A
12.08.2010
How do you clean up a soap spill?
Ok people, this is day 5 of a migraine. There should be a law against this. If I don't get relief soon, I may have to head to the hospital for a shot of the good stuff. Let's hope I don't have to resort to this. The "new guy" at work (who is 63) told me to freeze a kitchen knife and hold the cold blade on my jawline. I'm not sure how that will help, and I'm pretty sure that's the craziest thing I've heard all week. Should I drink some kerosene while I'm at it??
The furbaby is a bad girl. There was a brand new jug of laundry detergent sitting on the kitchen counter. Sometime in the middle of the night, she must have jumped on the counter and knocked it over. When it fell, the cap broke and detergent spilled all over the kitchen floor and rug. Not a good situation. Here's a very important question for all of my lovelies out in bloggy land: How do you clean liquid detergent out of a rug? The rug is too big to wash in the washing machine and I don't want to make a holy sudsy mess. Please help!
Update from the doctor: I do not have a stress fracture in my foot. Thank you, baby Jesus. As it turns out, I have severely irritated my metatarsals and the muscles surrounding them and my fat pad on the ball of my foot has atrophied. Hot mess. I kicked the boot to the curb again. Well, not really. I'd probably hurt myself worse if I kicked the boot, but you get what I'm saying. That was a little piece of good news in my life.
It's so cold in my office. My hands are freezing, my nose is cold and drippy, and my feet are like ice cubes. I don't like winter. I live in the South, and I expect the temperatures to adjust themselves accordingly. I am not ok with the fact that it is currently 25 degrees outside at 9:50am. No thank you.
I'm rocking out to the Glee Christmas CD and trying to not be a Scrooge right now.
Snuggles,
A
The furbaby is a bad girl. There was a brand new jug of laundry detergent sitting on the kitchen counter. Sometime in the middle of the night, she must have jumped on the counter and knocked it over. When it fell, the cap broke and detergent spilled all over the kitchen floor and rug. Not a good situation. Here's a very important question for all of my lovelies out in bloggy land: How do you clean liquid detergent out of a rug? The rug is too big to wash in the washing machine and I don't want to make a holy sudsy mess. Please help!
Update from the doctor: I do not have a stress fracture in my foot. Thank you, baby Jesus. As it turns out, I have severely irritated my metatarsals and the muscles surrounding them and my fat pad on the ball of my foot has atrophied. Hot mess. I kicked the boot to the curb again. Well, not really. I'd probably hurt myself worse if I kicked the boot, but you get what I'm saying. That was a little piece of good news in my life.
It's so cold in my office. My hands are freezing, my nose is cold and drippy, and my feet are like ice cubes. I don't like winter. I live in the South, and I expect the temperatures to adjust themselves accordingly. I am not ok with the fact that it is currently 25 degrees outside at 9:50am. No thank you.
I'm rocking out to the Glee Christmas CD and trying to not be a Scrooge right now.
Snuggles,
A
Labels:
cold,
Princess Fiona,
sick,
stupid people,
work
12.06.2010
I'm internationally known on the microphone.
I just checked my blog stats, and I'm becoming an international sensation. Kinda. Here's the scoop on my readers outside of the United States:
Anddddd scene.
A
- Denmark: 5. U bent ontzagwekkend to all of you from Denmark. That means "you are awesome" in Dutch.
- Germany: 4. Sie schaukeln meine Welt, Germans. That means "you rock my world" in German.
- UK: 1. 'Allo lad (or lady).
- Philippines: 1. Salamat sa pagbabasa, kaibigan. That means "thanks for reading, friend" in Filipino.
Anddddd scene.
A
Labels:
international,
random
In a funk. Rebooting and regrouping.
Today is one of those days. I just feel blah about everything. I'm lacking in the self-worth and brains department. I think I need a life coach. Someone that will force empower me to make good life choices and remind me that I'm a kick-ass person. Sometimes I forget/doubt it. On top of my poor life choices, I forgot to pay my rent this month. What?! It's due by the 5th of the month. I remembered today. Today is the 6th. I had to pay a really awesome $66 late fee. I've never been late with my rent. If you could see my face, it's not a happy one.
Here's a hypothetical situation for y'all to ponder. Let's say there is a really awesome person who may or may not have a case of the "likes" towards you. (You have indicated that this is mutual, although you tend to be hot and cold, just like Katy Perry said you'd be.) You invite said person over to hang out and she is super thoughtful and knows that you didn't eat supper, so she brings you some leftover homemade spaghetti and some chocolate cake. Thoughtful, remember? She was even cool enough to bring you enough so that you could take it to work tomorrow and have lunch. What would you think/do? If you answer incorrectly, you are dead to me. Just kidding. Well, maybe.
I'm in a funk. I feel like that episode of Glee. Help.
In case you haven't heard via Facebook, I had to reboot. That's right, I'm wearing das boot again. I have been having a lot of pain in my right foot and I was trying to shrug it off and pretend that it was just going to hurt while I was getting used to walking in normal shoes. Last Wednesday, I had physical therapy. I told her about my pain and that one of my toes looked funny. She thinks I have a stress fracture. The bad part? It's in a completely different area of my foot than the original break. I guess I just have brittle feet? I go back to the doctor in the morning for x-rays and we will see. Add bionic feet to my Christmas list, Santa baby. I also need wool socks because my toes get cold in das boot.
And to revert back to the origins of this blog, I will leave you with some song lyrics:
"'Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?'...Winter just wasn't my season." -Anna Nalick, "Breathe (2AM)"
Meh,
A
Here's a hypothetical situation for y'all to ponder. Let's say there is a really awesome person who may or may not have a case of the "likes" towards you. (You have indicated that this is mutual, although you tend to be hot and cold, just like Katy Perry said you'd be.) You invite said person over to hang out and she is super thoughtful and knows that you didn't eat supper, so she brings you some leftover homemade spaghetti and some chocolate cake. Thoughtful, remember? She was even cool enough to bring you enough so that you could take it to work tomorrow and have lunch. What would you think/do? If you answer incorrectly, you are dead to me. Just kidding. Well, maybe.
I'm in a funk. I feel like that episode of Glee. Help.
In case you haven't heard via Facebook, I had to reboot. That's right, I'm wearing das boot again. I have been having a lot of pain in my right foot and I was trying to shrug it off and pretend that it was just going to hurt while I was getting used to walking in normal shoes. Last Wednesday, I had physical therapy. I told her about my pain and that one of my toes looked funny. She thinks I have a stress fracture. The bad part? It's in a completely different area of my foot than the original break. I guess I just have brittle feet? I go back to the doctor in the morning for x-rays and we will see. Add bionic feet to my Christmas list, Santa baby. I also need wool socks because my toes get cold in das boot.
And to revert back to the origins of this blog, I will leave you with some song lyrics:
"'Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?'...Winter just wasn't my season." -Anna Nalick, "Breathe (2AM)"
Meh,
A
Labels:
Anna Nalick,
dating,
foot,
Funk,
quotes,
stupid people
11.30.2010
Hi-yah!
Do you ever get really annoyed with someone and just want to karate chop them in the throat? Like really hard. Knock the stupid right out of their mouth. I have a growing list of people to karate chop. I'm in an extremely foul mood right now because of these people. Especially the cranky ones that bust up into my day and ask me what my problem is. Excuse me? I didn't have a problem until you started accusing me of having one. Thanks for making me cranky. And now that I'm thinking about it, I have a few things that are really chapping my ass. I won't go into detail because I need to cut my rage short if I want to have any chance of sleeping tonight. You, my lovely readers, are not on my karate chop list. Because you are awesome.
Grrrrrr,
A
Grrrrrr,
A
Labels:
bad mood,
stupid people
Lessons in customer service etiquette. And maybe some conjunctivitis, because that's sexy.
I don't know what the weather is like where y'all live, but it's nasty here. Cold, wet, and icky. This weather affects my mood and makes me a wee bit cranky. And bitter. And freaking cold. Although cold isn't an emotion...shut up.
On my lunch break, I decided to stop by the gas station and getsome of the nectar of the gods Dr. Pepper. I was like the third person in a long check-out line. The woman running the register had the IQ of a potato chip. She had 14-inch-long fingernails that looked like she was vying for a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records.
Somehow, she manages to close her register. She has no clue how it happened and no clue how to fix it. Like zip, zilch, nada. Dumber than potato chips. She then informs everyone in line that we should probably leave because she wasn't going to be able to do anything. Really?! If you own a business that hires cashiers, here are a few ground rules you should probably follow:
On my lunch break, I decided to stop by the gas station and get
Well, maybe not quite that long. How does she wipe her own arse? {here} |
- Never hire anyone who is not capable of operating a register. After all, that is their main task.
- If you are dumb enough to hire someone who is not capable of operating said register, never allow them to work a shift alone.
- Don't hire people with potato chip IQs.
I mentioned in my last post that I did quite a bit of shopping on Black Friday. I received a phone call from my bank last night alerting me that I might have someone fraudulently using my account. Yikes! As instructed, I called the fraud customer service line and try to get to the bottom of this. She said that there had been an abnormal amount of activity on my account in the past few days and they needed to verify that the transactions were indeed mine. A hold had been placed on my account just to be safe. Okay... She reads off a seemingly endless list of transactions. All of them were mine. She judged me. I politely explained to her that there were bazillions of sales this weekend, as it is one of the busiest shopping weekends of the whole year. I was obviously buying Christmas presents for all of the wonderful people in my life useless stuff for myself. Tis the season, lady. She still judged me and suggested that I not do that again. After all, if I was spending at such a rapid pace that it would suggest fraud, that might be a problem. She's jealous that I didn't buy her anything on Black Friday.
I think I may be coming down with a sweet case of pink eye. Aren't I too old for this? Let's all say a prayer that I just have itchy eyeballs. Better yet, let's pray that my eyeballs stop itching all together. I like that plan better.
Amen,
A
Labels:
gross,
shopping,
sick,
stupid people
11.29.2010
Turkeys, babies, sales, and Staph...That's what the holidays are all about!
Sorry for the hiatus. I've had a busy holiday weekend. I hope everyone had a (ful)filling Thanksgiving! Here's a recap of the festivities:
After work on Wednesday, my parents and I drove down to Alabama to my grandparents' house. Thursday morning was a flurry of yummy dishes being prepared and family arriving. Take a look at this impressive Turkey Day spread!
After work on Wednesday, my parents and I drove down to Alabama to my grandparents' house. Thursday morning was a flurry of yummy dishes being prepared and family arriving. Take a look at this impressive Turkey Day spread!
Soak it all in. |
From L to R: (top row) cranberry sauce, deviled eggs, mac and cheese, dressing, (bottom row) cranberry salad, squash casserole, sweet potato souffle, and black-eyed peas |
From L to R: (top row) cornbread, mashed sweet potatoes, carrots and green beans, mashed potatoes, (bottom row) blueberry salad, and sweet potatoes with pineapple |
My plate from Round 1. (We won't discuss Round 2.) Nom nom nom. |
The dessert table: chocolate cake, pumpkin cheesecake, coconut pie, peanut butter pie, pumpkin pie, brownies, more brownies, and other yummies. |
It was a ton of food, but that's what you need to feed 23 people. It was totally worth all of the calories. After lunch, I played outside with the little ones.
Swing low. |
Lovin on baby sister. |
Their smiles melt my heart. |
Big girls discussing big girl things, like what's in their purses. After this, they sneaked off to the bathroom to write in their journals. Divas. |
Look at this precious nugget! |
We drove home from Alabama after lunch on Thanksgiving. After we made it home, Mommy Dearest and I were looking at the sale papers and I was coming up with a game plan. We were watching the 11o'clock news and I heard them say that Old Navy was opening at midnight. I perused their sale paper and decided that I needed some $5 pajama pants. Mommy Dearest decided to go to bed and I headed out the door like a moron to go stand in line in the cold at midnight to get into Old Navy. Yes, I realize the absurdity in this, but I had nothing better to do and I really needed some pajama pants. I got in and grabbed everything in sight what I needed and proceeded to wait in the check-out line for almost an hour. I should have expected this, but all the crazies were out, and some of them were standing behind me in line. There were 2 young couples behind me, and they were just a touch redneck. I was surprised to see full sets of teeth. One of the girls was preggers and I overheard her say her due date was the next day. I swear, I was going to have to flip my shit if her water broke all over me and my new pajamas. It would have been on the news the next day, next to the headlines of people being trampled to death at Walmart. Here's a snip-it of a conversation I heard between Girl #2 and Boy #1 (prepare yourself):
Girl #2: Did I tell you that I had to go to the hospital th'other day?
Boy #1: Nah, man. What did you do this time?
Girl #2: I had a boil on my leg, right in my crotch crease. I had t'get it lanced.
Boy #1: I'd've stuck it for ya! What was in it?
Girl #2: It was all full up with infection. Like MRSA and Staph and stuff. I gotta keep gauze on it though because it's still leakin.
Holy geeze. Get out of Old Navy! Stop touching things! Take your MRSA and Staph and go on somewhere. Dirty people. I threw up in my mouth a little.
I got home from Old Navy and took a little snooze, then Mommy Dearest and I were out among the crazy Black Friday shoppers. Here's my loot list:
- Pajama pants and sweaters (Old Navy)
- DVDs and a Shark steam mop (Target)
- Glee and Mariah Christmas CDs and Michael Kors pea coat (Costco)
- New pillows for my bed (Sam's Club)
- Cute top and sweater (TJ Maxx)
- Make-up (Ulta)
- DVDs (Best Buy online)
Cyber Monday hugs,
A
PS- I heard that some of my lovely readers were having trouble viewing the pictures of Princess Fiona's birthday, so I reloaded them. Hope that helps!
Labels:
family,
Mommy Dearest,
shopping,
stupid people,
Thanksgiving
11.19.2010
S, as in Nancy.
I don't like stupid people. I was on dumbass overload yesterday. Dumbassness everywhere. I had to call a freight provider about an invoicing error. On my invoice it said, "Call 1-888-HELPME (or something like that) and ask for Heath," so I did. Here's how that went down:
Dumbass: May I help you?
Moi: Yes, may I speak with Heath?
Dumbass: Huh? Who?
Moi: Um...Heath, please. The note on my invoice says to call Heath with questions.
Dumbass: I don't know who that is. Do you have a quote number to reference?
Moi: I sure do. It's FNL2938747220.
Dumbass: S, as in Nancy?
Moi: Uhhh...F, as in Frank...
How about S, as in no stupid, Nancy starts with an N, so maybe you should go back to school to learn how to spell and stop ruining my morning with your dumbassness. Did that just happen? Yes, Snancy, it just did.
Snancy says she will talk to you later,
A
Labels:
stupid people
11.17.2010
OMGSHUZ
jFm monogram [2" circle pendant on an 18" split copper chain] |
{here} |
I saw a license plate the other day that said: OMGSHUZ. Love it.
That's all I have to say about that, Forrest Gump.
Kbye,
A
Labels:
Copper Alley,
foot,
shoes
11.16.2010
Happy Birthday, Princess Fiona!
I am officially 47 notches higher on the Crazy Cat Lady Scale. In honor of Princess Fiona's 1st birthday, I decided she needed a birthday hat. They don't make these for cats. (I checked Petsmart.) I ventured out to A.C.Moore to buy some crafting supplies to make her a hat, because let's face it, that's what I do. As I walked in the store, I passed the Salvation Army bell-ringer man. I politely said hi, and he looked at me kinda strange. He asked if I was a teacher, to which I asked if I looked like a teacher. He said he wasn't sure, but why else would I be coming to the craft store? I told him I was getting birthday supplies for a friend. I didn't feel like explaining that I was actually there to buy felt to make my cat a birthday hat...for obvious reasons. Some people just don't understand.
I got home and constructed a pretty sweet hat for the fur baby. Here she is!
She better like that damn birthday hat, because I burnt the tip of my pinkie off with hot glue.
I got home and constructed a pretty sweet hat for the fur baby. Here she is!
Looks like the birthday girl celebrated a little too hard... |
Some days I wish I'd never been adopted... |
Getting acquainted with her new toy. |
Nom nom nom. |
A diva is a female version of a hustler. |
Later gators,
A
Labels:
Princess Fiona
11.15.2010
Furry underwear and homemade streamers always make the day better.
I survived the weekend in Gatlinburg and I decided that it is truly the Myrtle Beach of Tennessee. [I love the Dirty Myrtle, so check yourself before you wreck yourself on that one.] Here's my recap:
Mommy Dearest and I went to Gatlinburg for the weekend to attend The Norton Show (a wholesale jewelry and accessories expo) for my business, Copper Alley. Needless to say, we saw some pretty interesting things.
I managed to resist the fur, but I did walk away with some nice jewels. I'll post pictures later when I get the chance to create some things with my new supplies. Mommy Dearest and I also decided to drive/walk around town and soak in the local culture.
And here is the scene I came home to at lunch today:
Mommy Dearest and I went to Gatlinburg for the weekend to attend The Norton Show (a wholesale jewelry and accessories expo) for my business, Copper Alley. Needless to say, we saw some pretty interesting things.
And a fur jock strap for the gents. Don't worry guys, they didn't forget about you. |
And don't worry. It has a tail. 'Coon skin hats are so last year. The future is clearly in 'coon skin junk holders. |
It's Christmas 24/7 in Gatlinburg. |
[Silence] Dubya Tee Eff. Someone call Hoarders. This storefront is ridic. |
Winning combination. Why didn't I think of that? |
Fall foliage. |
Good ole Rocky Top. |
Today is a very important day, and you should all mark it on your calendars so that you remember next year. Today is Her Highness, Princess Fiona's 1st birthday. We will obviously be celebrating tonight so I will have pictures of that tomorrow. However, here she is inside her favorite shopping bag.
Can I help you? |
Buttface had unrolled and entire roll of paper towels and opened the toaster oven. She clearly didn't trust me to decorate for her party, so she decided to get to work on the homemade streamers herself. And attempt to bake a cake in the toaster oven. Apparently, she opened the oven and then remembered that she doesn't know how to bake cakes. Silly Fiona.
'Coon skin covered hearts,
A
Labels:
Copper Alley,
Mommy Dearest,
Princess Fiona,
underwear,
vacation
11.12.2010
Stop diagnosing yourself via WebMD and go pack my suitcase for me.
Time is literally crawling today. Crawling like a small toddler who hasn't quite gotten the hang of things yet. Unacceptable. I spent my morning trying to solve a frustrating issue at work. Then, I spent my lunch break on the phone with CVS Caremark trying to explain to them that they've messed up my prescriptions for the jabillionth time. I'm so over them. If they didn't control the distribution of my precious migraine drugs, we'd be having a nasty break up. This CVS drama has been going on since October 1. In case you're counting...that's a month and a half. I want to punch a pharmacist in the face right about now. Now I just have to make it through a little over 2-ish hours at work and then go home and race to finish packing so that Mommy Dearest and I can hit the road to Gatlinburg. We are spending the weekend at at jewelry/accessories expo and then doing some outlet shopping. Hopefully I will come home with some new pretties to show you!
I'm cranky. I have things that I need/want to be doing right now, but I can't. I probably should have done them last night but I was busy watching Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, and playing with my iPad. These are all valid activities, but that meant that I did not pack.
Here's another reason why I'm cranky. I've been minding my own business today. Out of the blue, I get a chat message from The Ex. I haven't heard from him since he called to tell me Happy Birthday (the day before my birthday because he had plans on my actual birthday and, heaven forbid that I be an inconvenience). I actually haven't even really realized that we haven't been speaking. He sent me a message saying that he'd been in the ER today. That sucks. Why is he telling me? Go call your girlfriend.
I'm cranky. I have things that I need/want to be doing right now, but I can't. I probably should have done them last night but I was busy watching Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, and playing with my iPad. These are all valid activities, but that meant that I did not pack.
Here's another reason why I'm cranky. I've been minding my own business today. Out of the blue, I get a chat message from The Ex. I haven't heard from him since he called to tell me Happy Birthday (the day before my birthday because he had plans on my actual birthday and, heaven forbid that I be an inconvenience). I actually haven't even really realized that we haven't been speaking. He sent me a message saying that he'd been in the ER today. That sucks. Why is he telling me? Go call your girlfriend.
The Ex: Was in the ER today.
Moi: Are you ok?
The Ex: I messed up my knee. It's all torn on the inside.
Moi: How did you hurt it?
The Ex: I don't know.
Moi: You're in enough pain to need to go to the ER, and you don't know what you were doing when it happened??
The Ex: I worked out 2 weeks ago and it started hurting a week later and it was really hurting this morning. I sleep in ball and it locked up and when I stood up this morning, it made all these cracking and popping and tearing noises.
Moi: My knees always sound like that.
The Ex: I need an MRI but no one will give me one.
Moi: They aren't candy. They don't just give them out. You need a referral from a doctor and you have to schedule an appointment.
The Ex: They did an X-ray but you can't see torn ligaments on it.
[Yes, genius. You are correct. BONES show up on X-rays, not muscles and ligaments.]
Moi: I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you...
He's a hypochondriac. Bless his heart, every time he gets sick, he thinks it's the plague and that he's going to die. He is always looking up his symptoms on WebMD and that's never a good plan. He called me one time (after we'd broken up) and told me he thought he had cancer. He said that when he was in the shower, he found a lump on his man bits. I tried to keep him calm and urged him to see a doctor if he really thought it was serious. I told him that it was probably nothing and that it could just be a swollen lymph node or gland or maybe he just had bumpy bits. He cried and argued and complained and moped. He finally went to the doctor. Here's literally how that went...
The Ex: [Gulp.] So, Doctor...what is that lump on my testicle?
Doctor: Um, son...that is your testicle.
The Ex: Oh. Okay.
I laugh every single time I think about that story. Typical him. However, there was one time I accused him of crying wolf and he was actually sick. He had a bad case of Mono and an ear infection and got so dehydrated that he was admitted to the hospital overnight. He used that one instance as basis for all of his medical woes and assumptions. The guy was right once and got a big head about it. Anyway, I feel bad that he's hurting, but why tell me now? Thanks for randomly messaging me so that I will take pity on you. Sorry that it didn't work this time. Get well soon, but I kinda don't really care how soon that is. Now I sound mean. This is just the crankiness talking. Kinda. I'm sure he will update me later because he probably thinks I'm holding my breath. I'm not.
Sending grouchy feelings your way,
A
Labels:
stupid people,
The Ex,
vacation
11.11.2010
Call me Scrooge. I dare you.
They started playing Christmas music on the radio today. I cannot handle this. Please let me get through Thanksgiving, and then I will be in the spirit. Seriously, on Black Friday, I will be buying Mimi's new Christmas album. And probably these others.
Merry Chirstmas II You by Mariah Carey {here} |
Labels:
Christmas
Touching your junk is rude, and so is ignoring my texts.
I must get this off of my chest...
My boss, bless his heart, has a terrible habit that makes me want to gauge out my eyeballs and run away screaming. I hear you asking, "what could be so terrible?" The man scratches his man-business all the time! It has to be some major junk issue, because it's out of control. He does it when he stands in front of my desk to talk to me...when his junk is at eye-level for me. Inappropriate. I clearly can't say anything. What's a girl to do??
On another crotch-related note, Victoria's Secret has a sale on panties. They are running a 7/$25 special on certain styles. Check it out here! Just just the promo code VS7PANTY when you check out. [I just made myself a little uncomfortable talking about my boss's crotch and my crotch in the same post. Please excuse me while I go vom. Kthanks.]
I just checked my tracking number for FedEx for my iPad and it has been delivered!! I can't wait to get home and play. This will be my first Mac, other than my iPod, and my first touch screen so it's going to take some getting used to. I think I can handle it.
Let's chat about men/Golf Guy. I thought that he'd lost interest after my birthday festivities, and I tried to cope with that. I'd texted him a few times with no response so I figured I should take a hint. Last week, I get a random text from him asking if I would like to go with him to Atlanta to the Falcons game that Sunday. Yes please! Except I have to lead youth on Sundays. Boo. BFFAE and Mr. S invited me to go to a relatively new bar with them on Saturday night and I decided I should make the effort to be sociable. (Mainly because I thought Golf Guy would be there.) We exchanged texts and he had decided to stay home since he's partied a little too hard the night before. We've been exchanging some flirty texts since then, and I really do like him. However, he goes all "guy" on me. One day he's texting and flirting and talking up a storm. The next day...nada. Can someone explain this to me? I'd really love to hang out soon, but I refuse to be the pushy girl again. I seem to always be enthusiastic about the possibility of a new romance, and I always get burned in the end. Here's hoping I stick to my guns. (Metaphorical guns. Carrying around actual guns would be a bad plan. Unless you live in Texas. I hear children carry six-shooters in Texas. Remind me to visit Texas someday.) Seriously though...any advice?
Is it 5o'clock yet?
Winks and LOLs,
A
My boss, bless his heart, has a terrible habit that makes me want to gauge out my eyeballs and run away screaming. I hear you asking, "what could be so terrible?" The man scratches his man-business all the time! It has to be some major junk issue, because it's out of control. He does it when he stands in front of my desk to talk to me...when his junk is at eye-level for me. Inappropriate. I clearly can't say anything. What's a girl to do??
On another crotch-related note, Victoria's Secret has a sale on panties. They are running a 7/$25 special on certain styles. Check it out here! Just just the promo code VS7PANTY when you check out. [I just made myself a little uncomfortable talking about my boss's crotch and my crotch in the same post. Please excuse me while I go vom. Kthanks.]
I just checked my tracking number for FedEx for my iPad and it has been delivered!! I can't wait to get home and play. This will be my first Mac, other than my iPod, and my first touch screen so it's going to take some getting used to. I think I can handle it.
Let's chat about men/Golf Guy. I thought that he'd lost interest after my birthday festivities, and I tried to cope with that. I'd texted him a few times with no response so I figured I should take a hint. Last week, I get a random text from him asking if I would like to go with him to Atlanta to the Falcons game that Sunday. Yes please! Except I have to lead youth on Sundays. Boo. BFFAE and Mr. S invited me to go to a relatively new bar with them on Saturday night and I decided I should make the effort to be sociable. (Mainly because I thought Golf Guy would be there.) We exchanged texts and he had decided to stay home since he's partied a little too hard the night before. We've been exchanging some flirty texts since then, and I really do like him. However, he goes all "guy" on me. One day he's texting and flirting and talking up a storm. The next day...nada. Can someone explain this to me? I'd really love to hang out soon, but I refuse to be the pushy girl again. I seem to always be enthusiastic about the possibility of a new romance, and I always get burned in the end. Here's hoping I stick to my guns. (Metaphorical guns. Carrying around actual guns would be a bad plan. Unless you live in Texas. I hear children carry six-shooters in Texas. Remind me to visit Texas someday.) Seriously though...any advice?
Is it 5o'clock yet?
Winks and LOLs,
A
Labels:
bad habits,
dating,
Golf Guy,
men
11.10.2010
Feathers don't have to come with birds.
Someone needs to take my debit card from me! It doesn't help that payday magically came today instead of tomorrow. I was casually browsing blogs and say someone mention the designer melie bianco. I decided to go to the webpage, and it must be my lucky day. They are having a sample sale! I got this beauty for $10 + s&h.
I could not resist something called a "Feather Clutch." And I definitely couldn't resist the price tag.
Dear Rachel Zoe, I die. |
On another note, I must have hit my funny bone on something, because I have a pretty terrible pain shooting down my right forearm. I really wish it would stop. It is very unfunny.
Umm...yea. Kthanksbye.
A
Labels:
shopping
I'm sorry I don't speak Russian, but I am learning to speak Weezy.
Maybe I'm slow, but I just learned that I could check the stats on my blog. I can see where my traffic is coming from and see referring sites. I learned something rather interesting, too. There are 8 people somewhere out in Russia and 1 in Denmark that have been checking out my blog. So...добро пожаловать to you 8 Russians, and welkom to you in Denmark.
I have officially ordered an iPad and I'm and impatiently awaiting it's arrival. The dang thing is shipping from China, and I don't have that kind of time people. I want it yesterday. I'm worse than children on Christmas morning. I obsessively check the FedEx tracking like 15467686 times a day, just to see if there is an update. I hope that it comes by Friday because I'm going to Tennessee this weekend and I'd love to take it with me.
I wen to Target last night in search of some new tunes. I may be the only person left in the universe that buys actual CDs instead of iTunes. I'm proud of that. I bought Sugarland's "Incredible Machine" and Lil Wayne's "I Am Not A Human Being." Don't tell me I don't have diverse taste in music.
I ate some Japanese food for lunch today, and now all I want is a nap. It probably doesn't help that Golf Guy has been texting me and mentioned that he's taking a nap on his lunch break. [I'll take "Things I'd Like to Be A Part Of" for $200, Alex. Bad Jeopardy joke.]
I'm worried that I'm going to fall asleep at my desk as soon as I stop typing this...
Caffeine hugs,
A
PS- Leave me fun comments so that I can read them, amuse myself, and stay awake.
I have officially ordered an iPad and I'm and impatiently awaiting it's arrival. The dang thing is shipping from China, and I don't have that kind of time people. I want it yesterday. I'm worse than children on Christmas morning. I obsessively check the FedEx tracking like 15467686 times a day, just to see if there is an update. I hope that it comes by Friday because I'm going to Tennessee this weekend and I'd love to take it with me.
I wen to Target last night in search of some new tunes. I may be the only person left in the universe that buys actual CDs instead of iTunes. I'm proud of that. I bought Sugarland's "Incredible Machine" and Lil Wayne's "I Am Not A Human Being." Don't tell me I don't have diverse taste in music.
I ate some Japanese food for lunch today, and now all I want is a nap. It probably doesn't help that Golf Guy has been texting me and mentioned that he's taking a nap on his lunch break. [I'll take "Things I'd Like to Be A Part Of" for $200, Alex. Bad Jeopardy joke.]
I'm worried that I'm going to fall asleep at my desk as soon as I stop typing this...
Caffeine hugs,
A
PS- Leave me fun comments so that I can read them, amuse myself, and stay awake.
11.08.2010
Bacon flavored lollipops and a confession of a shopaholic.
I'm taking a break from the song lyric posts, mostly because I spend more time deciding on a song than I do on writing my posts. I will bring them back if anyone truly misses them.
There was an event here in town this weekend called Open Studios. Local artists open up their studios and invite in the public. It had slipped my mind until I was downtown on Sunday for brunch and saw the signs. I stopped in a few places and ended up coming home with 2 pieces of art for my apartment. Allison is my name, and spending is my game.
I'm in love with this painting. I bought a print on canvas. Now I just need to decide where to hang it...
[Mannequin head not included. That picture is from Zappo's, but only because the picture from Rue La La is really small.] To be fair, they were regularly $128 and I only paid $59. And I got these instead of the Prada ones that I've been wanting. I call that smart shopping. Shut up.
There was an event here in town this weekend called Open Studios. Local artists open up their studios and invite in the public. It had slipped my mind until I was downtown on Sunday for brunch and saw the signs. I stopped in a few places and ended up coming home with 2 pieces of art for my apartment. Allison is my name, and spending is my game.
Flower Girl, Light of Soul Series (by Guy Stevens) {here} |
I also bought a beautiful photograph of the Roman Forum from Al Keiser. It's not listed on his site, but I'm in love with it. When I was living in Rome, the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II was being renovated so there are cranes in most of my pictures.
I was bad today. Shame on me. My email dings at 11am telling me I have a message from Rue La La, announcing today's sale items. I glance, knowing that I don't need anything, and I see it. There's a sale on Kate Spade New York. Well, maybe I will just peek and make sure there is noting fabulous on sale. Gulp. There was. I got these lovely sunglasses.
Kate Spade New York "Lorna" Sunglasses {here} |
A vendor popped in our office last week to see if we needed anything, and left us some bribes Halloween treats. She left 3 bags of DumDum suckers. I've eaten about 1 million of them. I just went to the website and found out that you can vote for new flavors you'd like to see. Check out this hot mess:
There is a bacon flavored sucker option. Is it wrong that I'm intrigued? Probably. Want to know more about Dum Dums? Check out this hand timeline here. Whew! I can breathe a sigh of relief now that I know Dum Dum's flavor history. It's also good to know that some of my favorite flavors have just "gone on vacation" for awhile, instead of disappearing. Thanks, Spangler Candy.
Those are all of my thoughts for the day. The End.
Candy kisses,
A
11.03.2010
If I Die Young
"If I die young, bury me in satin,
Lay me down on a bed of roses,
Sink me in the river at dawn,
Send away with the words of a love song."
The Band Perry {here} |
Let me just start this off my saying that I have an unhealthy obsession with this song. I've listened to it on repeat basically all day. I just think it's beautiful, and I love the video. So, enjoy.
Now, moving on to the real reason you're here...to hear about my weekend. I know you're dying to know how the birthday festivities went, so I'll tell you. They were pretty awesome. Friday (Birthday Eve), the BFFAE planned a dinner with friends. It was a great group, and I felt like the coolest kid in town. After dinner, we went bar-hopping downtown. The group quickly dwindled because most everyone there had to work the next day. (I'm very glad that I don't work on Saturdays anymore). I spent the rest of the night with the BFFAE,
These good lookin' people are my friends. |
Mr. S, Moi, and Golf Guy. (This was taken with my Blackberry because Mr. S accidentally dropped and broke my digital camera. Sad day.) |
Saturday night, I went to SK's annual Halloween party. I was dressed in all of my Gaga glory. It was a good time. I got to hang out with some good friends and look silly. Winning combination.
This is not my Poker Face. |
SK is a hot witch. |
Gaga with MT (biker chick). Gotta love self portrait shots. |
I got mostly dolla dolla bills for my birthday, so needless to say, the cash is burning a hole in my pocketbook. No seriously, I smell smoke. I've pretty much decided that I'm going to buy an iPad. My cousin can get me a slight discount, so I think I'm gonna do it. My palms itch just thinking about it.
I talked to Little today and I'm getting so excited about her wedding. October 1, 2011! I cried when I saw her in her dress. Tears of joy rolling down my face while I was sitting at my desk, pretending to work. I couldn't be any happier for her!
Warm snuggle hugs,
A
PS- What do you think of my new blog look? Do you like it???
PS- What do you think of my new blog look? Do you like it???
10.29.2010
Like It's Her Birthday!
"Drinking champagne, going insane...like it's her birthday!"
Cardiology by Good Charlotte {here} |
Today is officially my last day being 23. What better way to celebrate myself than to relive all of the "awesome" moments from the past year! Shall we? We shall.
1. I was the bridesmaid (yes, the only one) in my cousin's Halloween wedding. I can't make this stuff up. She met her husband online. "Oh, that's perfectly normal," you say. I say you haven't heard the rest of the story. They met online playing World of Warcraft. My cousin has always been a fan of Halloween, vampires, witches, and general spookiness. She went through a very long goth phase in her life. I'm totally okay with that. It wasn't a huge shocker when she picked Halloween as her wedding day. It was a surprise when, after 5 years of us not hanging out, she texts me and asks me to be in her wedding. Do I get to wear a costume?!?!?!
They got married in my Aunt's front yard. And yes, he did wear those sunglasses and that hat during the ceremony. |
We don't look too scary. And I made her bouquet. |
2. I lost my job in December. Ten days before Christmas. It was traumatic, but one of the best things to ever happen to me. I'm thankful to be out of that toxic environment. That's a story for another time.
3. I awkwardly dated English Teacher. English Teacher is a guy I went to college with. We had Wellness Class together our first semester of freshman year, and remained friends ever since. Since graduation, he has gone on to be a high school English teacher, hence the nickname. Somehow we ended up deciding that we needed to go to dinner together. And then somehow we decided that we should kiss. And thus, the awkward "relationship" ensued. He's a great guy, but it just wasn't a great fit. Our second "date" was a group thing for New Year's Eve. English Teacher invited me to go out with some friends, including our mutual friend, Redneck Photographer. Redneck Photographer's birthday happens to be NYE, so it was a joint celebration. The party guests included myself, English Teacher, Redneck Photographer, and 2 other guys. Where did we go for NYE? A strip club. See why all of this is awkward? Anyway, over the next few months, English Teacher and I went on some dates, and then he fell off the face of the earth. The End.
4. Mommy Dearest and I decided to go on vacation to London and Dublin. It was great, and lasted much longer than expected because we got stuck over there when the volcano erupted.
On Westminster Bridge, in front of the Houses of Parliament. |
Dublin was pretty and green. |
5. I went on the worst date in the history of dates. I'm really not kidding. I think I'm going to recount that magical nightmare-ish night for you now. One day, I got a text from a guy that I've known (through mutual friends) since college. We're going to call him Mr. Pretentious. We chatted and he suggested that we meet up for dinner one night and catch up. I say yes, because it would be nice to catch up with someone I haven't seen in a long time. He asks where I want to eat downtown, and I suggest Wild Wings or Mexican or something of that variety. He insists the we go somewhere nicer and says it's his treat. In my mind, that does not mean that it's a date. On dates, you don't specify that you're treating. Am I wrong in this thought process??? I decided that we should meet downtown at the restaurant (so I could escape if things got weird). He picked a fancy Italian restaurant that had a pricey menu, but lacked authenticity. (Yes, I do get to critique Italian restaurants because I lived in Italy for 4 months. Shut up.) I arrive first, but they can't seat me until my whole party is there, so I'm forced to wait outside on a bench in the cold. He calls and tells me that he's stuck at the bank because he went to get cash for dinner and his card didn't work because he'd spent too much money at the bars last night. Strike 1. He showed up not long after and we finally got to sit down and eat. Mr. Pretentious keeps asking if I want a drink, to which I say no (against my better judgement) because I'm afraid that his card won't be working and I will get stuck with the bill. He orders his "drink of choice" (that's seriously what he calls it) and dares me to guess what it is. What was it? An effing double screwdriver. I don't even drink screwdrivers because I feel like a little girl doing so. If there is going to be alcohol in my OJ, it's going to be champagne and it's going to be in a nice glass. Strike 2. I finally cave and order a glass of wine to calm my nerves. Mr. Pretentious talks about himself all through dinner, telling stories and bragging about how exciting his life is. His life is not exciting. (See, I have a very exciting life and that's why I blog. See the difference? Shut up.) He brags that he dropped out of college because he was lazy. Strike 3. He brags that he smoked pot in high school when he was on a Drama Club trip to NYC. Strike 4. He brags that his parents think he's an alcoholic. Strike 5. He brags that he has 2 jobs just to support his drinking habit (how responsible...). Strike 6. His roommate is the most obnoxious and crude DJ in town. Strike 7. He had a dog but gave it away because pets are too big of a responsibility. Strike 8. He bragged that he is a Gamer. He legit called himself that.
Me: "So what do you like to do in your spare time, when you're not working?"
Mr. Pretentious: "Ummm, hello? I'm a Gamer!"
Me: [awkwardly] "So what do you like to play?"
Mr. P: "Call of Duty! Ha, like there's any other game. Listen to yourself. I've got a headset and everything. It's pretty awesome."
Me: "I got a Wii for Christmas. I play it sometimes..." [awkward]
Strike 9. My dinner was mediocre, at best. We finished eating around 8:00pm and went to the bar next door for a drink. I had tried to bail but it was too early to go home and say that I was going to bed, and let's be honest, I needed a drink. I order my standard Jack D drink, and he of course orders another screwdriver. I had the brilliant plan to start talking about The Ex and make him think that I still wasn't over him. Didn't work.
Mr. P: "You're lucky, ya know? I only date girls that are older than 22."
Me: "Did I say I was 23? I mean't 21. My bad..."
Mr. P: "Wanna know why?"
Me: "No..."
Mr. P: "Because girls younger than 22 only want to do one thing: party. That's all they ever think about."
Me: "Umm...not me. I don't really ever think about partying. I've moved past that stage in my life."
Mr. P: "You're wrong. Trust me...I know what I'm talking about."
Me: "Ahh, yes. You know because you're a 22 year-old female. I forgot. What was I thinking?"
Strike 10. Around 9:00pm I pretend that I'm exhausted and tell him that I'm going to head home and go to bed because I'm an old lady. It's raining at this point, but I didn't care. I was parked in the garage that was literally a block away. He wouldn't let me walk. He called a rickshaw to come pick us up and drive me a block to my car. I was so embarrassed and the rickshaw driver was pissed. Strike 11. We get to the garage and I get out to walk to my car. Mr. Pretentious follows me! The rickshaw driver saw his chance and escaped. Mr. Pretentious tries to convince me to go down to a different bar to hang out with his friend who is DJing. [Sidenote: This "friend" is a guy I used to date. The same guy that introduced me to Mr. P.] Why the hell would I want to hang out with both of them at the same time?! To quote Whitney Houston, "Crack is whack! Hell to the no!" After I convince him that I am not coming out with him and that I'm going to bed, I head home. Here is the text message exchange that followed.
Mr. P: I had an awesome time 2nite.
Me: I made it home. Goodnight.
Mr. P: Y dont u grab a bottle and come over 2 watch a movie?
Mr. P: bottle of wine*
[He's trying to impress me by acting like he likes wine since I had a glass at dinner. It's not working.]
Me: Already in bed. Goodnight.
Mr. P: Thats ok if u want to pass out. i know how 2 keep u up ;)
Mr. P: Wanna play truth or dare???
Me: Truth: going to bed. GOODNIGHT
Mr. P: Wats my most attractive feature?
WTF, people? No sir. Strike 264684354984634687. He's out.
6. I got a new job!
7. I started my own copper jewelry business.
These are monogrammed necklaces that I made as bridesmaid gifts for someone. |
8. I broke my foot. Lame.
9. I'm still pretty awesome, but only on days that end in "y."
10. If you made it through this long and drawn out post, here is your reward.
Here I am (age 5) being awesome. Happy (almost) birthday to me! |
Snuggles and candy corn kisses,
A
Labels:
birthday,
childhood,
Copper Alley,
dating,
foot,
Good Charlotte,
Halloween,
Mommy Dearest,
Mr. Pretentious,
work
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