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

Whip My Hair

"Don't let haters keep me off my grind,

Keep my head up, I know I'll be fine,

Keep fighting until I get there"

Whip My Hair by Willow Smith {here}

Alright, peeps.  I have a very important announcement.  I was getting my daily dose of Deals, Steals, and Heels and discovered something magical.  I don't know how long this song has been out, but I'm OBSESSED.  I want to whip my hair back and forth, too!  Don't blame me if you waste the rest of your day with this jam on repeat.

I'm a little concericus that there is paint coming out of her weave, but I can put that aside, I guess.  As long as I don't have to clean that mess up, I don't care.  She's a pretty rad 9-year-old.  Then again, her dad is The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.  She's royalty.  But who is the Fresh King of Bel-Air?  Is The Honorable Uncle Phillip Banks the King?  I digress...

And for all of my fellow guido-lovers out there, check this out: Jersey Circus.  Family Circus comments + Jersey Shore quotes = fits of laughter.  Am I just easily amused??

I know you're dying to hear more stories about how adorable I was as a child, so I guess I will provide you with some afternoon delight humor.

In our Kindergarten play, I was picked for the best part: The Statue of Liberty.  Our class each had a line to say about freedom and out great nation (I said something about ponies running wild in a field or something equally awesome), and then we sang the 2nd most patriotic song of all time...Lee Greenwood's God Bless the USA.

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free... your candy.

In Kindergarten, I didn't take any lip from anyone.  I wasn't into boys, because they always smelled like farts and had boogers on their faces.  Not my thing.  When we played "house," I had an agenda.  I was always 17 and I always had a 19-year-old boyfriend.  That's how I rolled at age 4.  I don't know the reasoning behind this, but just smile and nod.  A boy named Chase (I'm not going to protect his identity because I don't care enough) always slept on the mat below mine at nap time.  I was a smart cookie and I knew that he was doing this so that he could look up my dress.  Easy solution: kick him in the face.  Problem solved.  Chase eventually learned to nap elsewhere.  I also bit him once, but I don't recall why.  He def deserved it, whatever the reason.  There was also a boy named J.C. in my class.  (No, that didn't stand for Jesus Christ.  In fact, I think his actual real name was J.C.)  He wasn't exactly the sharpest crayon in the box.  He would always stick blue (never any other color) Play-Doh up his nose, pull it out, and eat it.  Boys are nasty.  I also thought it was funny to draw pictures of butts on the chalkboard and blame it on the boys.  What did these butts look like?

A very accurate drawing of a butt.

That's about all I have for today.  I'll leave you with a picture of Princess Fiona in her Halloween hat.

Eff you, Mom.

Snuggles,

A

My Favorite Things

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens,

Brown paper packages tied up with strings,

These are a few of my favorite things."

The Sound of Music Soundtrack {here}

So, I'm working on a wish list for my birthday, and I'm pretending that money isn't an issue.  See all the pretty things you can buy me?

Citrine Bronze Ring by John S. Brana {here}

Carson Pull On Boots (navy) by Frye {here}

Billy Studded Boots by Frye {here}

Prada Sunglasses {here}

iPad {here}

Michael Kors Limited Edition Watch {here}

Bomber Jacket Clogs from The Pink Monogram {here}

This list is a work in progress, so updates will be added if necessary.

Hugs,

A

The Way

"They drank up the wine

And they got to talking

They now had more important things to say."

All the Pain Money Can Buy by Fastball {here}

This weekend was pretty normal.
Saturday was not Princess Fiona's favorite day.  She got a B-A-F-F.  (For those of you who haven't been reduced to spelling "bad" words in front of your children pets, that means bath.)  She was not thrilled.  Sadly, I wasn't able to capture the magic on film, but she does smell as fresh as daisies now.  I had to swaddle her like an 8lb, 6oz newborn infant Jesus who doesn't even know a word yet because (s)He's just a cuddly little infant but still omnipotent. [If you didn't catch that reference, you can't be my friend.]  After her B-A-F-F, we snuggled.

My feets are all tangled.

Oh, I may look innocent, but I'm not.

I picked up Zaxby's for lunch/supper and Princess Fiona was sad that she didn't get any, so I gave her the bag.  Let's be honest, that's what she really wanted anyway.  She made it her new home.

Please tell the paparazzi to get off my lawn.

I also got my sweet Lagy Gaga-esque wig for Halloween.  It's more yellow than I'd imagined, but whatevs.  You'll have to stay tuned to see it.  S.E.Dubs and I went and saw "The Social Network" on Saturday night.  We went to the "cheap theater" and tickets we $9!  That's what I call robbery.  Good thing we brought our own drinks and candy.  The movie was...interesting.  Mr. Facebook is kinda douche-y.

Sunday was filled with church and a baby shower.  The baby shower was precious and tons of fun.  There was a black and white photo booth with props for all of the guests to take pics.  Loved it.
I decided that Sunday night with the Youth Group would be Game Night.  We pigged out on pizza and brownies and play Catchphrase and Apples to Apples.  Def a fun night.  I felt really old when the youngest member of the group (6th grade boy) kept getting people cards in Apples to Apples and had no clue who they were.  Who were they?  Chevy Chase, Tom Clancy, Tommy Lee Jones, ABBA, and Pee-wee Herman. He was born in 1998.  Let's recap life in 1998...

• Rehab and addiction were just a twinkle in Lindsay Lohan's eyes.  In 1998, she played twins in The Parent Trap.
• Mel Gibson was still a Jew-loving sane person, starring in The Patriot.
• The movie industry was a little obsessed with meteors, releasing Armageddon and Deep Impact in the same year.
• Savage Garden's "Truly, Madly, Deeply" was my jam.
• Anyone remember the band Fastball?  Because I def was loving their song, "The Way."
• President Bill Clinton "did not" have relations with that woman, aka Monica Lewinsky.
• The FDA approved Viagra.  Impotent men everywhere rejoiced.
• Europe agreed to introduce the Euro as their mutual currency.

I felt old.

Daddy apparently caught a pretty nasty stomach bug and suffered all weekend.  I thought I was safe, but Mommy Dearest and I both had to stay home from work yesterday because of it.  We took turns bringing each other ginger ale and toast.  Not a fun day.

Long distance hugs so I don't give you my germs,
A

Airstream

"Sometimes I wish I lived in an Airstream,

Homemade curtains, lived just like a gypsy.

Break a heart, roll out of town,

Because gypsies never get tied down."

Revolution by Miranda Lambert {here}

Last night, I went on a search for the finishing touches for my Lady Gaga Halloween costume.  Something really uncool happened to me.  I was searching through the masses of wigs are the Halloween store, and I caught a whiff of something extremely unpleasant.  Someone had "secretly" farted and walked away like nothing had happened!  Here is a little love note to the culprit:

Dear Wind-Breaker/Cheese-Cutter/Gas-Passer,

To quote Stephanie Tanner, how rude!!  I may have been the one who smelt it, but I was certainly not the one who dealt it.  I know you think that you were so sneaky, but a smell like that does not escape your nether-regions without notice.  What did you eat?!  Rotting carcasses stuffed with cabbages and dirty socks?  Not cool.  The only place that the "Toot and Scoot" maneuver is acceptable is in the Great Outdoors, and certainly never around a large crowd of people.  And definitely not near anyone with their mouth open.  That's just plain gross.  Grow up and/or get some Gas-X.

Sincerely,

A

In case you didn't know or haven't noticed, my birthday is this month.  Birthdays are one of my favorite things in the world.  In honor or this momentous occasion, I've decided that until the big day, I will be sharing stories of my life.  I know both all of you are intrigued, so I hope you enjoy.  

Allow me to transport you back in time...

The year was 1989.  I was 3 years old, and I was the definition of adorable and country.  I was wearing the following outfit (and yes, I do remember this accurately):

Although I'm pretty sure my shirt said, "Lean, Mean, Green, Pizza-Eating Machines" on the front as well.  {here}

A ruffled denim skirt was a staple in my wardrobe.  Duh.  {here}

I definitely had a giant bow in my hair.  {here}

And to complete the ensemble...cowgirl boots.  {here}

[Continuing, since you have a lovely mental image of how cute I was at age 3...]

I was playing on the swing set in my Aunt P's front yard.  She left me in the swing to entertain myself as she walked up the driveway to check the mail.  (Aunt P and Uncle D lived out in the country, so this was perfectly legit and safe.)  On her walk back from the mailbox, she saw that the neighbor's dog had wandered up and I had started up what looked like a riveting conversation with the 4-legged creature.  Seems logical.  At that age, I would have probably talked to the grass and encouraged it to grow.  I was not a shy child.  When Aunt P reached the swing set, the dog wandered back home.  She asked me what I had been doing: (Read with a strong [strawn-guh] Southern accent.)

Aunt P: Was that the neighbor's dog over here?

Moi: Yes ma'am.  He's my friend.  I like him.

Aunt P: [Slightly perplexed}] Were you talkin' to him?

Moi: Yes ma'am.  [Um..duh.  Why wouldn't I talk to him. I already told you he's my friend.]

Aunt P:  Well, darlin', what did you say to him?

Moi: I asked him to push me in the swang swing.

Aunt P: [Stifles laughter] And what did he say to that?

Moi: He said, "I can't...I ain't got no hands."

Aunt P: [Laughter]

That's a perfectly reasonable conversation for a 3-year-old to have with a dog.  Don't judge me.

Hot pink sparkly hearts, 

A

Of Graves

"Can we argue at a later date when it's convenient for both of us?"

Lullaby Appetite by Alexa Wilkinson {here}

I love this line from Alexa Wilkinson's song.  It completely describes how I feel some days.  I just don't feel like putting in the effort to out-argue you today.  You know who you are.  

My workday started off pretty well today.  Yesterday, I bought my pregnant coworker a Sprite and some M&Ms (shhhh!) as a pick-me-up.  This morning she called me and said she was going to bring me a mocha to repay me.  Score!  Another highlight from my day has been exchanging emails with Pam (one of our freight providers).  Poor thing has poison oak on the inside of her eyelids.  I don't know how she is working!  I'd be on a bus to Crazyville, slobbering on the windows, in a straight-jacket.  For reals.  She makes me feel better a bout my haphazard life.  A close friend/coworker, S.E.Dubs, suggested that I call my blog "Accident Prone."  Not a bad idea, but I didn't want to jinx myself.  [Sidenote: I prefer the word "dubs" to saying "W."  Get over it.]

I have a bit of dilemma.  I've been invited to a wedding this weekend.  The bride and I went to college together and were in the same sorority.  We are friends, but not extremely close.  The wedding is in Cola Town (about 2ish hours from where I live), and I'd have to drive by myself.  No biggie, until you remember that I have a broken right foot and driving that far isn't exactly the safest easiest thing on the planet.  I'd also have to rock Das Boot with a cocktail dress and have uneven legs all night because I'd either have to wear flats that are too short or heels that are too tall (or rock the Reebok Easy Tones...).  Not to be vain, but I don't want to look too unfortunate in pictures.  The wedding is on Saturday night.  I'd have to drive back late at night because I have to teach Sunday School at 9:45am.  Do I go even though my heart just isn't in it?  Current verdict: stay home.

It's clearly the birthing time of year, because I have another baby shower to go to this Sunday.  It's for the aforementioned pregnant coworker (KL).  S.E.Dubs and I are going in on a plethora of gifts together, and I decided to make a picture for the nursery, like I did for C(P)W.  KL and her hubby decided to keep the baby's gender a surprise, so I don't have a name for the picture.  S.E.Dubs and I decided to go with the monkey theme, so take a look:

Presh, right?!

I'm pretty proud of it, not gonna lie.  Now, all I have left to do this week is: fill all of my outstanding jewelry orders, plan a Sunday School lesson, plan a devotion and games for Sunday night for the Youth, try to make my apartment livable again so that I can move back in soon, teach Princess Fiona that it's not nice to open doors and run away, teach Princess Fiona that it's not nice to pull the vent cover out of the kitchen floor, find a Lady Gaga wig, make a wish-list for my birthday, and maybe do some laundry.  Bleh.

Because I know you want to see the furbaby, here is a recent picture of Princess Fiona.  I think she looks like a sleeping lion.

Rawr.

And here is a stamp that I bought last night at Michael's that I'm a little obsessed with:

Adorbs.

I bought some light pink blank note cards and some dark pink ink and I am going to make my own stationery.    I think that I might do the flames in metallic gold, because who doesn't love metallics?!

Later gators,

A

Overboard

"I could write my name by the age of three, and I don't need anyone to cut my meat for me.  I'm a big girl now, see my big girl shoes?"

Girls and Boys by Ingrid Michaelson  {here}

C(P)W's baby shower went well on Saturday.  The food was yummy and the gifts were presh.  Here's a cute picture:

Teeeeeeeny tiny socks!

Also, I couldn't resist throwing a little copper jewelry in the mix.  I know it's not a "traditional" baby shower gift, but I love it.

C(P)W's monogram on top, and Baby A's monogram below.

[Rewind.]  Friday night, I got to hang out with one of my favorite 3-year-olds.  ME is completely adorable and loves me to pieces (as I love her).  I am the only non-family-member that she likes (AKA she doesn't cry when she's left with me).  We play princesses, watch Dora, play dress-up with Pooh Bear, and tell silly stories.  She's awesome.  See what I mean?

This is her "scary" face.

ME insisted on wearing braids because she began the night in her Dorothy costume.  (I made her change before we went to play outside.  Mud stains on a white dress...tragic.)  Here is a conversation that we had:

ME: "I used to be a little girl, but now I'm a big BIG girl."

Moi: "Yes you are.  You're a lady."

ME: "What's that word?"

Moi: "Well, lady is another kind of big girl.  Mommy is a lady."

ME: "Yea, Mommy's a lady.  Daddy's a lady, too."

Moi: [trying hard not to laugh] "Umm...actually, Daddy isn't a lady. He's a gentleman."

ME: "No, I'm pretty sure he's a lady all the time."

[Fast forward.]  Don't you love how I ignore the logical order of things?  I like it better this way.  For Sunday School, I had my Youth dress up like the Disciples and reenact the Last Supper for the kids.  We have a "theater" room with costumes and props, so we went digging for attire.  However, there do not seem to be any actual Disciple clothes.  Here's what we looked like:

1. Beatles wig.
2. Fairy wings.
3. Hospital gown?
4. Purse.
5. Keyboard.

There are no words to explain this.  Just go with it.

I was supposed to be Jesus.  I look more like Miss Cleo.  "Look in to me crystal ball..."
(Although the "crystal ball" is the styrofoam head that the wig goes on.  Same diff.)

All in all, I had a bizarre yet standard weekend.  [Who are you calling an oxymoron?!]

I'm bored with the way my blog looks, but I don't know what I want to change.  Suggestions?  Comments on how awesome I am?

Kthanksbye,

A