JM had an Awesome Engagement Party, but I Think I'll Tell You About Taxis Instead...

Miss (soon to be Mrs!) WF came into town this weekend for J and C's engagement party. Which, by the way, was surely one for the books. Friday night, the girls got together to spend a few hours reminiscing about old times. Always a good time, folks. So, this story got brought up and I just had to share.

To begin, every once in a while, I find myself in the midst of a situation where I'm physically in the middle of things but not really that involved in it. An innocent bystander, if you will. Like the time I thought LT was gonna rip a girl's head off. Awwwkward. Or the classic times when somebody's talking about somebody else and the talked-about girl overhears and confronts the talker. Even more awkward.

But there are the ever-present hilarious times that I am sitting/standing there thanking my lucky stars I'm witness to what's going on. Like when we were in New York a couple years ago.

LH, WF, JM and I had celebrated our first night in the Big City in a very BIG way. We were on Cloud 9 and trying to head home. Mind you, this is after JM's umbrella turned somersaults down 5th Avenue and she had a major minor freak out moment on the side of the street. This was also after the random Irish guy we met tried to go home with us, we said no and he yelled something about peacoats and "fat arses" - side note: we're not really big girls. And JM's figure resembles something like a toothpick that got together with an hourglass one night and produced her - okay rant over.

Anyways, we call a cab and all jump in. WF on one side, me in the middle and JM on another side.....and LH in the front seat with the foreign driver. Well, if you know LH at all, you know the girl can literally talk to a brick wall for hours on end and walk away swearing it was the most liberating conversation of her life. 

So of course, she strikes up a chat with taxi man. Well, the conversation turns to football (no shock there). JM breaks out the camera and starts videoing, because if we know one thing, it's that this convo is about to take a turn for the worst. 

LH: So, you like football?

Taxi Man (in a thick Indian accent): Umm, I'm sorry?

LH: You know. Football. (In a REALLY bad Indian accent and also 10 times louder and slower than need be) Aaahhh-mmeeerrr-eeeee-kkkaaaannnn Fuuuuut-baaawwwllll. 

TM: Ah. Yes. (Dirty look).

LH: Well, you ever been to Death Valley? 

TM: Pardon me?

LH: Dude! Death Valley!!!!!!!!! The greatest place on the face of this freakin' earth. Clemson plays there. They're the best football team in the ACC. HECK, they're the best team in all of college football. You gotta come. You gotta be there when they run down the hill. I mean, dude, it's freakin' awesome. It's like....so awesome.

TM: ................

Meanwhile, WF is next to me speaking in her "mean mommy tone" about how she just knows that we've passed that store eight and a half times and that "excuse me driver, don't you try to give us the run around, I know this city and I'll kick you straight to New Jersey if you try to jip us money. There it is again! The same building! Y'all, he's trying to take us all around to make more money!"

JM's cracking up. WF's obviously being Nazi tourist. And LH is talking this poor man's head off about a sport, team, stadium and place that he will forever vow to never be a part of because of this very night. Me? I'm in the middle of the backseat. Watching it all happen and feeling kind of sorry for the guy driving us. Also, knowing that he is, in fact, NOT driving us around NYC, he's driving twice the legal limit to get us to our destination and out. of. the. car. OUT OF THE CAR. 

I wonder to this day if he remembers us. Those little southern girls in peacoats with fat arses. My bet is yes.

I have seriously got to quit talking about boogers...

So, I'll admit it. I've been a little on the complainy lately. The job has been getting rough around the edges the last few weeks, and instead of just shutting up and toughing it out like a big girl, I've whined and cried like a gassy infant the entire time. Hey, at least I admit it.

I had to work this past Saturday because we're basically moving the entire showroom around. I, who value my weekends and like to stay on a pretty normal schedule, was not happy. Like not even a little bit. But, I hadn't a choice in the matter, so at 7:45 on Saturday morning I dragged myself out of my bed, put on yoga pants with paint splatters, a t-shirt, brushed my teeth (lucky for them) and headed out the door.

We worked for about 4.5 hours or so and got a ton of stuff done, which actually works to my benefit seeing as I'm the only one that's doing the move most days. So yeah, we finished, I left and pretty much just thanked my lucky stars it was over.

Welllll....

Then this morning, I walk in the door and my boss is like "so what day you want off?" I turned around, and fought the urge to look at him and tell him to eff off it was too early for jokes like that. Instead, I just said what?

What day do you want off for comp time for Saturday?

You for real?

Um, yes. I told you that last week.

(how in the heck did I miss this? I wouldn't have missed this.) Ohhh ok. I didn't realize. Well....can I take off my birthday?

Sure. Just fill out a time-off sheet and hand it in. Done deal.
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This is where the chorus of angels started singing from the heavens. The gates started opening up in my head to a wonderful weekend of me welcoming in my 25th year. Eeeekk!

I guess there was no reason for me to be whiney in the first place, then, huh?

Lesson learned, God.

A Quick Tour of the Best Parts of South Carolina...

So here's how it went down when I answered the phone on Saturday morning...

Saturday 9:42 am
Ring ring....

Hello?

Hey babe. You ready for the game?

Umm, is that even a question? I accidentally cut myself shaving earlier and it literally bled orange.

Ooookayyy. Cough cough. Sometimes I seriously worry about you. Anyways, so what are you doing later tonight?

Besides celebrating Clemson's win? I dunno. I figured we'd hang out. Right? I mean, unless you have manly things to do like bush hogging or catching rattle snakes with your bare hands.

Caralee, seriously, you have lost your mind. I was gonna see if you wanna go to Charleston.

Tonight? Like, after the game? I dunno...I mean...sheesh. I'd have to get somebody to watch Sam.

Oh. Ok. Well it was just a thought. I'll see you in a few.

9:45 am

Hello?

Hey D. Okay, scratch that. I changed my mind. Let's go.

Oh gah. Ha. You sure? 

Yep. My parents will watch the dog. I wanna go..I think...wait...okay yeah I wanna go.

You're positive? I mean, you tend to change your mind like 104 times before you come to a decision.

Ugh. Um, yeah I knowww. Hater. Let's GO!

Sounds good! Have your stuff packed in 15 minutes. I'll be there to get you.

15 MINUTES?! Okay, fine. Eeeekk!!!

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So that's how it happened. We went from my apartment to my parents, to Clemson, to a birthday dinner and then to Charleston. We got there at about midnight. And it was aaaweeeesome. A full next day of the beach, time with the boo and his family, Hyman's, waterfront park and me getting to wear my new Jessica Simpson wedge heels I got for $13.00 (yes you saw that right. I'll only teach you my secrets if I deem you worthy).

Best Labor Day weekend ever!

I don't get why people don't like Seinfeld...

Seinfeld paved the road for shows like The Office. That's really all I have to say about that.

As you can see, my blog is fixed!!!! The fabulous Mrs. LJB came to my rescue and just did it for me instead of taking 10x more time trying to explain the whole process to me. Thank God for friends like her.

Saturday is....

SATURDAY IS THE FIRST CLEMSON GAME OF THE SEASON!!!!

Pumped. So incredibly pumped. Even though I haven't figured out what to wear yet. You know, I keep an eye out for orange apparel all year long, and it always ends up that I have nothing to wear to games. Whyyyyy? It's because I don't wear orange unless it's for a specific Clemson-related purpose. Therefore, I don't buy it when I do see something cute because I think "meh, I'll find something closer to football season." You'd think I'd learn from the error of my ways.

But seriously, y'all, let me tell you about the first game of the year. There's a buzz in the air that can't be expressed in words. Everybody's so excited and you can literally, physically feel it.

THEN. The cannon goes off and the team runs down the hill and the entire stadium is shaking like an earthquake that could blow the Richter scale off the charts. And you're screaming even though you can't hear yourself. And you're probably getting a little teary-eyed thinking about all the good college memories you had in the stadium. And you're nervous because kickoff is about to happen. And you're silently cursing the other team and laughing at them simultaneously because their tiny showing in the West End Zone is just pathetic.

It's amazing. I can't wait.

Two tickets, 45-yard line, with my boo. The true version of perfection. :)