Saturday Smorgasbord...

• Why is it that when I have the most to do, I write in this? Professional procrastinator? Aiyup. Wait...professional means I would get paid...scratch that.
• I really need to learn to change my own car oil. That mess is a racket. "Ma'am, you might want to look into getting your shlama-shlama-automocar-really-important-thing changed." Do what? You liar. I dunno, maybe it's worth the money to not have to clean grime out from underneath my fingernails.
• I'm going to Disney World tomorrow! You tired of hearing about it yet? Nah, I didn't think so.
• I really wish my camera wasn't broken. Yet again, procrastination. Wolf Camera is not that far from my house....mapquesting now. Lies. It'll have to wait..
• What's up with the wiener dog??? He's still kind of fat. We're working on it, though. His underneath side isn't dragging the ground anymore, if that's anything. He is going to my parents for the week, though, so we'll be back to square one by Thursday.
• More wiener dog...just can't get enough: Sam's been up to this game of hiding his bones lately. I don't know if they've taken on some magical importance in the last few weeks or what, but it's incredibly entertaining. 
• Step 1: Give Sam a new bone. Where are the others? You're asking the wrong person.
• Step 2: He plays with it for a minute until I get busy with other things.
• Step 3: I lose interest and start doing other things.
• Step 4: The Wiener cuts his eyes all suspiciously at me to make sure I'm not watching, then proceeds to go into another room to start his hiding The Bone ritual.
• Step 5: I sneak into the other room to watch him methodically hide said Bone in the sneakiest spot so that only he will know where it is when the time comes that he wants to use it for it's actual purpose...chewing on it.
•  Oh and, my Corey Smith plans got botched big time last night. Mother Nature decided to bring the works down out of the sky. Rain, thunder, lightning, hail, everything. Thanks, summertime. I love ya, but not when your hissy fits mess up my plans. 
• Let's end this on a good note, though. I might've stayed up until 1:30 this morning watching movie clips from Disney movies. I say it's all good preparation. Oo de lally, Oo de lally, gahlee what a day!

Love to your mother.

On a Completely Different Wavelength...

Now that I'm done throwing myself a pity party, let's get down to the good stuff.

It's 6:15 pm...I should be in the shower right now because I'm on schedule to see Corey Smith at Freedom Weekend Aloft tonight!

Corey Smith reminds me of the South, of Clemson, of summer, of bare feet and whoaaa good times. I fully expect for him not to let me down this year.

Seats saved - check. Cold beverages - check. Loud friends - double check. Cute and breezy sundress - um duh.

I can't think of any better way to usher in the summer season. Except maybe with a trip to Disney World. OH WAIT. I'm doing that, too. :)

P.S. Do you think if I smiled real cute at one of the hot air balloon drivers (do not judge me for calling them drivers until you can give me the formal name), he'd take me for a ride?

Blurs and Sways...

So, I've been kind of thinking about what to write in my blog all week.

I make it a point to not be too personal on here. Why? I don't know. Scratch that. I do know. Because I've been burned in the past. And why on earth would I want that to happen again?

A smile is something that, over the years, has become easier and easier for me to tack onto my face. It's become far too easy for me to grin and bear it. This point in my life is no different.

Have you ever been in a subway station and you're standing there, still as day, and everything around you is spinning so fast? You're motionless, and the train, the people who know their destination, the people getting on and off the train, are all moving so fast. So fast that you couldn't even capture it with film and if you tried, it'd be just blurs of bright colors and sways of neon light.

I'm the inanimate one.

I feel like I'm at a standstill. I see all this going on around me, all these people planning and going and doing. And I'm like a statue. Never changing, never going.

Why??

What have I done to deserve the stalemate?

Yeah, you reap what you sow. I get it. Maybe I haven't reaped the very best roots, plants, whatever you want to call them (obviously, I don't garden), but really! I try. I try to do the best thing for everyone, I bust my ass to get ahead, and I try to look out for my interests along with the others that surround me.

Why isn't it time for me to be the blur?

But then again, what's so great about being the blur?

Maybe this is my time to sit back and watch the world and learn from other people's mistakes so I don't have to make them myself.

I wrote an entire post about how being called "sweetie" in a professional setting angers me.

I was already angry.

My post got deleted.

I am angrier.

Grrr. Hear me pout.

The Soon to be Mrs. JS...

Ring, ring, ring...

JM: Hello?
Me: Heyyyy, what are you doing?
JM: I'm in the car with CS on our way back from our surprise date.
Me: Oh yeah? Where'd he take you?
JM: We went to Coffee Underground, where we had our first date.
Me: ..........are you engaged?
JM: Yep!
Me: Shut up, whatever. Wait, really?
JM: Yes, I'm serious!
Me: Oh my gahhhh!!!! (CS in the background mocking me: OOHH MY GAHHH! in his girliest voice)

I'm totally pumped. And I'm the maid of honor. So planning is ensuing in t minus...a week or so. I say she enjoys it for a bit before all the hullabaloo. Still, though, my mind is reeling. I've never been a maid of honor before. Bridesmaid...yes. MOH? Omg! Bachelorette party, dress shopping, engagement party, showers, lingerie...double rawr.

JM's at my house calling everybody right now. Well, just our good friends. One's getting ready to be in a wedding as we speak. One was on the toilet. Yep. I said it. And the others are yet to be foretold.

How the commode convo went:

JM: Why haven't you been answering your phone?!?!?
Unmentioned Friend: um, I've been taking a poo, okay?
JM: HA! Well, since you're already sitting down....I'm engaged!
Unmentioned Friend: What! Oh my gah, I always remember where I am when my friends call me to tell me they're engaged. And I'll forever remember yours as me sitting on the toilet. Anyways, yay! Congrats!

Congratulations to my best! Guess I'll be having a MATRON of honor in my wedding!

I Have a Secret (kind of), Nah-Nah-Nah-Boo-Boo

Oh I have huge news and I can't tell you!

Ha.

That's really one of my pet peeves, honestly. I ABHOR when people are like "yada yada blah blah blah" and you're like, "what?" Oh nothing, they say. Grrr. Do you want me to manually crack your skull open and find that lost thought? No. I didn't think so.

Swear I'm really not that malicious. But little stuff like that or the famous "I have a secret, but I can't tell" mess seriously angers me.

In short, sorry for the irritation, everybody.

Tune in tomorrow-ish for the great revealing!

In Other News, I'm Going to Disney World!

I totally just felt like Nancy Kerrigan writing that title. Who, by the way, was my idol when she hobbled through the '94 Winter Olympics. Do y'all remember her commercials?

Interview guy: So Nancy, what will you do after you win the Olympics?
NK: I'm going to Disney World!!!!!!!!!!

Now, that's not to be quoted, because I was nine and my memory doesn't serve me that well, and also I couldn't find the commercial on YouTube (fail), but that was the gist of it.

Anyways, yeah, I'm heading to the place where dreams come true a week from Sunday. I will say that the reason why I'm getting this great opportunity is unfortunate. The girl that was supposed to go recently found out that her mother is under the weather in a scary way. Putting all aside, my sympathies are with her. I would never wish this pain on anyone, and she and her family are in my prayers daily.

On a happier note (and shouldn't we be happy when talking about DISNEY WORLD?!?), I'm totally pumped about visiting the Magic Kingdom, sitting by the pool at a Disney resort and fitting in some serious girl time. And if you're wondering, I'll totally be that girl wearing the Minnie Mouse ears and getting all the Disney characters to sign those autograph books they sell in the parks.

Last night, P and I were talking about my upcoming adventure, and he was all "I know you're gonna make out with Mickey Mouse." Psh. WRONG. I'll at least pick a character of my own kind...like Aladdin. Rawr. He didn't like that so much. S'okay. What happens in Disney World stays in Disney World ;)

I do believe in fairies, I do, I do!

Saturday Smorgasbord...

Here we are again, the Saturday Smorgasbord aka me trying to make you understand my thought process on any given day. Or aaka (also also known as...I'll be trademarking this one), I have tons to say and no plot line to fill it. Anyways, here you are:

• Today is P's birthday. I made him come over this morning for sweet potato pancakes with powdered sugar, complete with birthday candles and a happy birthday napkin. I am my mother.
• Speaking of, why does the box for powdered sugar call it confectioner's sugar? I'm almost positive that confectioners use all sorts of sugar to bake their goodies. Right now, I really want to quote another rap song, but one is enough. 
• Wiener dog update: he's fat. I don't know how this happened, but he's a sausage nowadays. I don't feed him more than the suggested amount and we've been going on more walks since the weather's been so nice, so I'm at a loss. Maybe it's just his muscles bulking up. I should enter him into a wiener dog body-building contest. The good ol' folks in Buda, Texas (read: Bewda not the idol that Buddhists pay homage to) actually do wiener dog races every year. Sam would dominate.
• I've given up soft drinks this week. Not as hard as I expected. I might be drinking a Fresca at the moment, though, which kind of counts. I figure I'll treat it like Lent so I can have whatever I want on Saturdays. 
• I almost said "I've given up Cokes this week" in the previous statement. It's a southern thing. At least I didn't change it to "pop" or "soda". 
• Last night, I dreamt that a friend of mine was pregnant, she was 21 weeks along and she just found out. I really can't wait to see the look on her face when I tell her this tonight.
• I followed John Mayer's tumblr today, basically because I want him to follow me back and realize that we are soul mates. I'd give up HC Jr. for John - even though he gets hated on by most girl-power magazines and probably does stick his foot in his mouth more often than most - and that's a very bold statement.
• Oh and for the record, I promise I don't stalk celebrities, it's just fun to talk about :)

Enjoy your Saturday! 

And drink soft drinks. Aspartame is good for you, I don't care what they say.

Serious, Sappy and Will Probably Make You Tear Up A Little Post So Prepare Yourself...

Today marks the 4th anniversary since my daddy's heart attack.

I guess I should back that up with the fact that I, by leaps and bounds, have the best father on the planet. He's my rock, he's my go-to person when life is way too hard and he's the one that hears me out no matter how insane my reasoning is...which is like 90% of the time.

It's one of those days that will stick with me forever. I was in my room, packing for my upcoming move to Charleston, D was doing whatever he does, Momma was in the kitchen and my dad was working in the yard. All was normal and well. About an hour later, my mom walked in my room and calmly (odd? yes) told me that she was going to take my dad to the ER because he was having chest pains. No big deal, she says, we just want to make sure everything's okay.

Obviously, I was alarmed. I mean, people just don't go to the ER on a Saturday for kicks, but I believed her. I knelt by my bed and said a prayer for him and continued doing what I was doing. I finally get a call from her saying that they made it to the hospital and they were doing some tests on Daddy, so come when I could. Okay, I thought, I might as well shower and get ready. D and I cruise into St. Francis about an hour and a half later and as we walk in, they're wheeling my daddy out of the emergency room. He's all drugged up and talking about how he really wants a Charlie's Steakhouse steak....oh the irony of that one.

Then, it happened. My mom, my aunt, my uncle and my grandma sit us down and shatter our world. Daddy had a heart attack. They put a stint in his heart. He had 94% blockage in his main artery. If we had waited an hour more, he would've been dead. Dead. Gone. My Daddy.

Ugh. Tears.

We went to the room and saw him and after about 20 minutes, I had to leave. My mom was so mad, but I tried to explain to her I couldn't see him like that. I couldn't see my dad laying in a hospital bed with cords hooked up to him and feel like for the first time in my life, I was stronger than him. He's the one who threw me clear across the pool when I was little, the one who let me ride on his back when he walked in from work, the one who always held it together when everyone else couldn't. No. THIS was not him.

I didn't cry, of course (fact: I don't cry about big deals). I walked out of the hospital, got in my car, called JM and went straight to her house. Then, I lost it. I've learned now to almost dread that point. The point where the reality catches up with my emotions and it hits so hard I might as well be running into a ton of bricks.

I went back to the hospital to bring him some books and magazines, put on my brave face and did what my daddy would've done. Loved him unconditionally and appreciated him for everything he's ever been.

Looking back, I can honestly say I'm so thankful for May 13th. It's celebrated. He's since started going to the gym consistently, eating right and living a more healthy life as a whole. It's also made me realize that the man who I call my father is stronger than I'll ever dream of being.

I called him today just to thank him for being him, to tell him I love him and to let him know that he's appreciated. He was humble enough to truly believe that I wouldn't remember today's significance. Of course I would. It's the day that I fully realized how lucky I am to have a dad like him.

Happy 4th, Dad. I love you.

The Time I Got Caught Naked(ish)

In college, I was known for being the naked one around our three-bedroom apartment. Having two roommates who were pretty conservative about flaunting their junk (or maybe they were just normal and I don't much care because my motto is that hey, we all have the same stuff, right?) made this an easy title to attain. My daily routine was to shower and then get ready in my underwear while I sat on the couch and watched TV. Apparently, when you live with people, this isn't normal? I can't know.

Anyways, around the beginning of senior year, I hopped out of the shower one evening and mozied into WF's room to ask her when the boys were getting here. The boys consisted of her boyfriend and a couple more of our guy friends who, needless to say, did NOT see me during my normal getting-ready routine. WF's response, "oh they won't be here for at least 45 more minutes." Score. I can still sit in my underoos and do my make up. 

I don't know if I lost track of time (I didn't) or they were just a little too prompt, but midway through my Reba episode the door - which was unlocked no thanks to WF herself - flies open and three unsuspecting guys are making their way into my house. Operation cover-myself-the-best-I-can-with-decent-body-parts ensued. I pull my knees up to my chest, all the while screaming at the top of my lungs to SHUT THE DOOOOOOR! OMGAH SHUT THE FREAKIN' DOOR! Mad Dog (ha get it? MD?), her boyfriend, just stands there dumbfounded like uhhh what? The Porter brothers are behind him peaking through all "what's going on? Why is she screaming like a banshee? Is she? Oh wait."

It clicked.

MD starts shaking his head to free the images from his mind while he stumbles backwards pushing the other two back out the door.

I was mortified. 

I proceeded to run in my room once the coast was clear, dress myself and let them in, head down and tail tucked (not literally, get your mind out of the gutter). After some conversation about what happened, MD informed me that he thought I had clothes on and that I was just sitting there hugging my knees for no apparent reason. 

Maybe because I totally do that all the time. And I guess I just love to yell at intruders when they walk in my house without knocking? Right. 

Long story short, none of my junk was seen, they didn't even really know what happened, and I still have a little of my dignity left. Be thankful for the small stuff right?

I have a new-found love. And he may be married, and he may have three kids and he's probably old enough to be my dad...or an i-knocked-her-mom-up-when-i-was-sixteen-kind-of-dad, but nonetheless, I'm obsessed.

Drumroll please.....

Harry Connick, Jr.

From here on out, Mr. Connick will be labeled as HC Jr. because his entire name is way too much to type out 8 million times because that's how much I'll be talking about him.

He was on American Idol last week. OH. Time out. Different Wavelength... American Idol sucks this season and it's totally going to the pooper after this year because 1) the contestants just aren't that good 2) people are bored and 3) they continue to say the word "pitchy" and as we all know (and as HC Jr. quite bluntly informed the judges themselves) pitchy is not a word....

Okay, I'm done.

Why do I love HC Jr. you ask? Because I want to marry someone like him. Someone who is a total crooner and who can siiiiinnnnnggg lliiikeee thaattt. Someone who is hilarious in the most dry and almost jerkish way, but it's still really funny even though he makes you feel like an ant about to be squashed by the humiliation shoe. He also is totally in love with his wifey and melts when anybody asks about his three daughters. I know, right? And then on top of that he has this omg-awesome New Orleans accent and knows how to make gumbo and red beans and rice. Win. Winwinwinwinwinwinwin.

So from here on out, if you need me, I'll be in the Big Easy wearing my best attire and waiting for my HC Jr. to come along.

Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler :)

Ba-donk-a-donk...

At work today, I was telling HB how I really want to make what I call "butt cookies". They're super cute sugar cookies with icing in the shape of underwear on them. To make the cookies, you just take a heart-shaped cookie cutter, cut out the dough and cut the bottom point off. Ta-da! You got a donk. She got a donk. She got a donk, she got a....ok I'm done rapping. Sorry Soulja Boy.

Anyways, HB goes on to inform me that her "friend" was telling her the other day that the symbol of the heart actually comes from the idea of a woman's derrière. Um, what? After some investigation (totally on her part because I was too busy listening to Soulja Boy), we came to find out that...well...there are a few different ideas on the symbol of the heart. A birth control seed. Female breasts. Female rear end.


Funny that the symbol of the heart has so many um, not so cleanly, historical meanings.

Either way, the shape has proven pretty useful for me to make cute, cheeky-pantied cookies, so I'm not fretting.

Monday Samday...

The wiener dog has apparently decided that he is the almighty watch pup of my apartment lately. Every time we walk out the door to go potty he boldly announces his presence to the outside world by barking the entire way down the stairs, bouncing butt and all.

Have you ever seen Shrek the Third? The part at the beginning where Prince Charming is all galantly riding in on a horse like he's something special and announcing that he's gonna take over Far Far Away and kill Shrek? Yeah. Sam is Prince Charming. Complete with the fake horse on a stick and I'm-better-than-you attitude.

Well yesterday, he just outdid himself. I turn the key to walk in the house right as some upstairs neighbors are coming down. I swear it took less than a half-second for it to happen. I turned the knob, opened the door and he flung his long, fat little body at least four feet out the door and went after these sweet people. I'm on the phone with my mom, and I might've said a swear word before I hung up on her, but I can't remember and she didn't mention it, so I'm gonna pretend it didn't happen. I literally drop my Blackberry (sin sin sin) and go running after my rabid and snarling dog so he won't scare the wits out of the people that I must share a building with for at least 4 more months.

I swear.

I apologized over and over and thankfully they were kind of nervously laughing about the whole situation. Whether it was initial shock of it all or the fact that a dog the size of a loaf of french bread just thought he could take them, I have no idea.

For me, though, it was traumatizing. My heart was racing and I'm all huffy and puffy when I get back inside. Then he looks at me with a face like this, and with eyes that say "I'm really sorry, Mom, I was just trying to protect you from the evil intruders," and I can't be mad at him anymore.

Even though I do remind him that Shrek conquers Prince Charming at the end of the movie, so he needs to rethink his priorities.

To My Best...

Lately, conversation about my blog has gotten brought up between friends and I. It's usually comments like, "I totally saw where you wrote about me." Or "why is it that you don't write out our entire names?" And just for the record, I do that because just in case what I write could possibly be incriminating, I don't want the WWW knowing who exactly you are. No thanks necessary. ;)

So a conversation of the same sort was going on a couple days ago at JM's apartment. And she's all like...you never write about me! Hmph. Totally a joke, of course, but I did realize I haven't made much mention of her lately. So here it is:

This girl has been with me through thick and thin since we were 16. She's been there for me through countless boy problems, life issues, my insane way of being a hypochondriac, to lend a listening ear, to say exactly the right thing at the exactly right time and to pretty much make bring me to tears because I'm laughing so hard all the time. She's my sister. And maybe not by blood, but in every other sense of the word, that's how I describe her.

The wedding topic came up the other day during our daily "after work" rant visit, and she threw out the I-want-you-as-my-maid-of-honor card. Considering that she has two sisters, this was monumental. I told her I wouldn't be offended in the least if I was third in line, and she said, yeah, she knows, but I'm the one she can count on to be there and to depend on on the best day of her life. Touched. I almost cried, no lie.

She had a rough day yesterday, and a lot about the future is unknown at the moment, and that's okay. My words to her last night were "join the crowd, J." I have no doubt that she'll overcome this little trial with flying colors and she'll look back in years to come and realize how much of a blessing it was.

We're heading into our mid-20's (scream of terror) and life is not as simple as it was when we met, but one thing that is steady and constant is that we'll always be there for each other. She's been the rock that's held me up when I needed it the most, and I hope that I've been the same for her.

Mad love to ya, sister. Here's to many many more years of remembering embarrassing stories, talking about our good ol' college days, and feeling the pain of the other because that's what makes a best friend. I think we've succeeded.