Happy Almost 2013 readers!
I suppose it is only natural for people (probably mostly ladies) to take the last few days of the year to reflect on where they are in life and where they'd like to be. And they probably mostly dwell on things they regret in life, because we women tend to focus on the negative a bit more than we focus on the positive. Or, at least, I do. I don't really believe people when they say they have no regrets in life. I mean, really? There isn't one thing in your entire existence that you regret doing? Well then your life must be reeeeally boring.
Yes, I believe my past experiences have made me into the person I am today, but I think I could still be the person I am today without having made the brilliant decision at one college house party to chase shots of Jack Daniels with Jack & Cokes, you know what I mean? I regret things like being mean to a kid in Middle School just because everyone else was, I regret kissing another guy while I was dating my college boyfriend (the guy happened to be his little brother in his fraternity...talk about scandal!), and I regret several outfit choices over the years (um, skirts over jeans? why?).
For some reason this year I'm thinking more about missed opportunities than regrets. Like that job offer I got that would have taken me across the country where I didn't know anyone that I decided not to pursue. Or that really nice guy that asked me out a while ago and I said no and now I see how happy he is with his new girlfriend and how wonderful he treats her. Or hell, even missed opportunities like passing up on ordering an amazing sounding one time dinner special.
At the time, I had reasons for turning down all of these opportunities. I turned down the opportunity in Seattle because I'm an only child and my parents are aging, and not aging well, unfortunately. I didn't want to be across the country if something went wrong. But how great would it be to just uproot everything and go somewhere new? Don't get me wrong. I love my life here in Nashville. My friends are amazing, I like my apartment, and I have a great job. But I've been here for almost 10 years and I think I'm in a rut. So, if my life is pretty much the same this time next year, I've made the decision to move. Where? I have no clue. I've already started preparing the parentals for this and needless to say, one of them is not happy. The other one doesn't really care. I'll let you guess which is which. So instead of celebrating my 29th birthday party next year, you might be celebrating a going away party...who knows!
I turned down the guy because I thought he was "too nice" (yes, apparently there really are girls that actually do that) and thought I was too jaded and cynical for him. And now I see how happy he is with his new girlfriend, how happy he makes her, and how well he treats her. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them because I like them both very much, but I do feel sad at the fact that it maybe could have been me who has a sweet guy that treats me like I hung the moon...or at least a few stars. So maybe I need to stop being so jaded, cynical, and believing that every man I let in my life is going to let me down. I frequently complain that my mother doesn't allow herself to be happy and that I refuse to be like that...but maybe I'm more like that than I thought...shudder. Yes, must work on that.
And I turned down the amazing sounding dinner special because I was planning on wearing my skinny jeans the next day and wanted to look good in them...as if one meal really makes that much difference. So I ordered a salad. That wasn't even good. And I didn't even end up going to the party where I was going to wear said jeans. Eff. I missed out on that amazing food for nothing. And if you know me, I extremely dislike missing out on good food.
I don't really have a good ending to this post. I sat down to write with every intention of finishing the post I've been working on about weddings, but this is what wanted to come out, and who am I to argue with my writing muse?
I hope everyone has a safe and super extremely fun New Year's Eve and New Year's Day! Don't drink & drive, don't overo it, and don't make out with someone ugly!
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
New Year's Resolutions
Well, it's almost that time of year again. Time for the majority of people to make a promise to themselves and others they can't keep. No, I'm not talking about taking vows at a wedding. I am talking about New Year's Resolutions. Those statements you stick with for about three weeks, if you're really dedicated, and conveniently forget you made by February 1st. Below I have listed some of the most common NYRs and provided my thoughts about each one.
"This year, I'm going to lose weight."
You probably won't. Although I admire those people who make a commitment to personal fitness, my admiration quickly evaporates when I come into spin class and someone is sitting on my favorite bike. I explain my behavior by my upbrining: I was raised Southern Baptist. Every Sunday you park in the same spot and sit in the same pew. If someone is in your spot or pew, you immediately know they are a visitor. There was this one older lady at my church that would leave notes on people's cars saying "I know you must be a visitor, but I've been parking in this spot for 43 years." Well that's welcoming. And people wonder why I don't like church.
Anyway, people will hit the gym hard for a few weeks, resulting in sore asses from spin class, sore calves from zumba-ing all over the place, and most likely a pulled muscle or two from attempting advanced yoga when they were clearly beginners. Then, you'll see less and less new faces at the gym, usually starting around the first week of February. February is always effing cold (I picked a great month to be born in) and it's hard to leave your house when it's so damn cold. The excuses pile up until the only form of exercise you get is watching The Biggest Loser while eating low sodium potato chips and diet coke. Or by watching P90X movies. Like my friend M does.
"I want to quit smoking/drinking/doing drugs/being a whore/etc."
This is one I actually applaud. Mainly because I dislike smoking, drugs (not that I've ever done any but I remember my D.A.R.E. classes from school), and people being whores. Drinking, I'm fine with, as long as you can control it. This resolution is hard though because I feel like you have to have some major turning point in your life before you really decide to quit these behaviors. I really don't want anyone to set themselves on fire on accident with their lighter, get hurt while doing something drunk, overdosing, or looking up and seeing "For a good time call __________" (insert the name of someone I know) on a bathroom stall. So let's resolve to not have a major crisis and just decide one day, hey, this behavior is potentially threatening my life/well-being/others/dignity, let's cut this shit out.
"This is the year I'm going to meet the man/woman I'm going to marry."
Yeah. Because you really have control over that. Although, I'm pretty sure my mom does a ritualistic chant each New Year at midnight, hoping that this will finally be the year she marries me off. I don't know what goes through people's heads when they decide this is the year I'm getting married. Personally, I think there are few things scarier than a woman on the prowl for a husband. They are desperate, lower their standards, and usually wear way too much perfume. They also usually end up booking their dream wedding venue and buying a dress...with no groom. I don't see how those Say Yes to the Dress people keep a straight face sometimes. Guys looking for a wife, however, have it so easy. Just walk up to a group of girls, point at one, and bam...you have your future ex-wife.
"This year I'm going to be a nicer person."
If you say something like this, then you really aren't that bad of a person to begin with. Because a true bitch would not care. You're safe. Move onto something else.
"My New Year's Resolution is to not make a New Year's Resolution."
This is about as funny as the "Working hard or hardly working?" line. Just, no.
So instead of making a NYR, I'm going to provide a list of 10 things I would like to happen in 2013. If they do, great. If they don't, great. If I can get 6/10 I'll call 2013 a success.
1. Get my first tattoo (happy birthday to me!)
2. Get a promotion
3. Travel to three places I have never been
4. Finish one of the books I'm writing
5. Make new friends
6. Buy a house
7. Learn how to make cheese (I'm so serious about this.)
8. Learn how to sew more than just buttons
9. Volunteer at least 5 times
10. Learn when to shut up (this will likely never happen)
"This year, I'm going to lose weight."
You probably won't. Although I admire those people who make a commitment to personal fitness, my admiration quickly evaporates when I come into spin class and someone is sitting on my favorite bike. I explain my behavior by my upbrining: I was raised Southern Baptist. Every Sunday you park in the same spot and sit in the same pew. If someone is in your spot or pew, you immediately know they are a visitor. There was this one older lady at my church that would leave notes on people's cars saying "I know you must be a visitor, but I've been parking in this spot for 43 years." Well that's welcoming. And people wonder why I don't like church.
Anyway, people will hit the gym hard for a few weeks, resulting in sore asses from spin class, sore calves from zumba-ing all over the place, and most likely a pulled muscle or two from attempting advanced yoga when they were clearly beginners. Then, you'll see less and less new faces at the gym, usually starting around the first week of February. February is always effing cold (I picked a great month to be born in) and it's hard to leave your house when it's so damn cold. The excuses pile up until the only form of exercise you get is watching The Biggest Loser while eating low sodium potato chips and diet coke. Or by watching P90X movies. Like my friend M does.
"I want to quit smoking/drinking/doing drugs/being a whore/etc."
This is one I actually applaud. Mainly because I dislike smoking, drugs (not that I've ever done any but I remember my D.A.R.E. classes from school), and people being whores. Drinking, I'm fine with, as long as you can control it. This resolution is hard though because I feel like you have to have some major turning point in your life before you really decide to quit these behaviors. I really don't want anyone to set themselves on fire on accident with their lighter, get hurt while doing something drunk, overdosing, or looking up and seeing "For a good time call __________" (insert the name of someone I know) on a bathroom stall. So let's resolve to not have a major crisis and just decide one day, hey, this behavior is potentially threatening my life/well-being/others/dignity, let's cut this shit out.
"This is the year I'm going to meet the man/woman I'm going to marry."
Yeah. Because you really have control over that. Although, I'm pretty sure my mom does a ritualistic chant each New Year at midnight, hoping that this will finally be the year she marries me off. I don't know what goes through people's heads when they decide this is the year I'm getting married. Personally, I think there are few things scarier than a woman on the prowl for a husband. They are desperate, lower their standards, and usually wear way too much perfume. They also usually end up booking their dream wedding venue and buying a dress...with no groom. I don't see how those Say Yes to the Dress people keep a straight face sometimes. Guys looking for a wife, however, have it so easy. Just walk up to a group of girls, point at one, and bam...you have your future ex-wife.
"This year I'm going to be a nicer person."
If you say something like this, then you really aren't that bad of a person to begin with. Because a true bitch would not care. You're safe. Move onto something else.
"My New Year's Resolution is to not make a New Year's Resolution."
This is about as funny as the "Working hard or hardly working?" line. Just, no.
So instead of making a NYR, I'm going to provide a list of 10 things I would like to happen in 2013. If they do, great. If they don't, great. If I can get 6/10 I'll call 2013 a success.
1. Get my first tattoo (happy birthday to me!)
2. Get a promotion
3. Travel to three places I have never been
4. Finish one of the books I'm writing
5. Make new friends
6. Buy a house
7. Learn how to make cheese (I'm so serious about this.)
8. Learn how to sew more than just buttons
9. Volunteer at least 5 times
10. Learn when to shut up (this will likely never happen)
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
25 Days of Christmas...in One Day
So I don't really think the point of the 25 Days of Christmas is to list something that you want for Christmas each day, but that's what I'm going to do. Well, I'm going to post 25 things I want in one day because, as I have mentioned before, I have a problem with commitment and know I can't stick to listing a new thing every day. The real point of the 25 Days of Christmas is for Lifetime and the Hallmark Channel to make shitty holiday movies that give former stars of the 90s a paycheck. Seriously. I saw Jessie Spano in one the other day while I was flipping channels. What do you want to bet she wasn't "So excited! So excited...so...so...SCARED" about that gig?
So here's my Christmas list. I will accept any and/or all items gladly. I'm probably not getting you anything, but it's better to give than to receive, right? Well, some things are...zing!
1.) A new set of knives. I still use the same cutlery from college. Plus, if someone breaks in and tries to steal my tv, I will be in need of something with which to stab them that will actually puncture the skin.
2.) A food processor. I spend an enormous amount of money on hummus. I need to be able to make my own.
3.) Ryan Gosling's phone number. I mean, does this even need an explanation? He can "hey girl" me anytime.
4.) A wand from Harry Potter World. Although, the wand chooses the wizard, so you should just take me to Harry Potter World to be safe.
5.) A step stool. Because vaulting myself onto my washer and dryer in order to obtain my detergent is getting really old.
6.) A rescue dog. I will name him Captain Jack Sparrow. And yes, I will call him by his full name every time. If it's a girl, I will name her Calamity Jane.
7.) An assistant. Because I'm pretty important, I don't like listening to voicemails, and I would like to have someone to fold my laundry.
8.) A driver. I don't hate driving, but I do hate parking. Especially parallel parking. I don't do it. I make other people in the car get out and switch places for me. Seriously. It's happened.
9.) An LL Bean boyfriend. (see http://yourllbeanboyfriend.tumblr.com/) Because he will build you a table and then have sex with you on top of it. I could probably end the list here because that's a pretty perfect world right there.
10.) UK season basketball tickets for life. I don't care if they're in the last row. Rupp Arena is the best place on Earth, with Keeneland coming in at a close second.
11.) A wink from Archie Goodwin. I'd also accept one from Randal Cobb because he has dreamy eyes.
12.) A teleporter. So I could go and hang out with my Chicago friends at Sidetrax on the weekends.
13.) A Carrie Bradshaw penthouse closet. I don't need the actual penthouse apartment, because I would be fine living in the closet. I'm not going to ask for an entire apartment. Do you think I'm that greedy?
14.) World peace. I feel like I had to say that.
15.) A signed copy of Harry Potter. Signed by J.K. Rowling, not some random person I don't care about. I say this, because a relative thought it would be funny to get me a signed picture of a UK basketball player one time, and I got really excited, until I saw that he signed it instead of the player. I was not amused.
16.) An invisibility cloak. There are lots of Harry Potter items on this list. Shocking, I know.
17.) A Burberry coat. Since mine got stolen.
18.) Elliot Stabler. I mean, no man has ever made a receding hairline look so damn good.
19.) A DVD player. Because the only one I have is in my bedroom and it's part of my tv. I want one for my big tv so I can pause it on a screenshot of Ryan Gosling. Shirtless.
20.) A bajillion dollars. I think I could live comfortably on that.
21.) A Denny's restaurant nearby. Because I really like their buffalo chicken sandwich.
22.) An island. If Johnny Depp can have one, so can I. JD is always invited to my island. You're probably not.
23.) A date with Prince Harry. Because I like redheads, I feel like he would make me laugh, and I can just imagine the Queen's reaction to the kind of person I am after reading my blog. Outwardly she'd be appalled, inwardly she'd be impressed.
24.) A sword. Because I think it would be really fun to open champagne bottles with a sword. And classy. But mostly, way fun.
25.) A star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Because I plan on being famous someday. With my luck though it'll be for something stupid, like dying in a ridiculous way or getting hit with some random object and becoming a Youtube sensation or Tumblr meme.
Don't fight all at once over who is going to get me what.
Till next time...
So here's my Christmas list. I will accept any and/or all items gladly. I'm probably not getting you anything, but it's better to give than to receive, right? Well, some things are...zing!
1.) A new set of knives. I still use the same cutlery from college. Plus, if someone breaks in and tries to steal my tv, I will be in need of something with which to stab them that will actually puncture the skin.
2.) A food processor. I spend an enormous amount of money on hummus. I need to be able to make my own.
3.) Ryan Gosling's phone number. I mean, does this even need an explanation? He can "hey girl" me anytime.
4.) A wand from Harry Potter World. Although, the wand chooses the wizard, so you should just take me to Harry Potter World to be safe.
5.) A step stool. Because vaulting myself onto my washer and dryer in order to obtain my detergent is getting really old.
6.) A rescue dog. I will name him Captain Jack Sparrow. And yes, I will call him by his full name every time. If it's a girl, I will name her Calamity Jane.
7.) An assistant. Because I'm pretty important, I don't like listening to voicemails, and I would like to have someone to fold my laundry.
8.) A driver. I don't hate driving, but I do hate parking. Especially parallel parking. I don't do it. I make other people in the car get out and switch places for me. Seriously. It's happened.
9.) An LL Bean boyfriend. (see http://yourllbeanboyfriend.tumblr.com/) Because he will build you a table and then have sex with you on top of it. I could probably end the list here because that's a pretty perfect world right there.
10.) UK season basketball tickets for life. I don't care if they're in the last row. Rupp Arena is the best place on Earth, with Keeneland coming in at a close second.
11.) A wink from Archie Goodwin. I'd also accept one from Randal Cobb because he has dreamy eyes.
12.) A teleporter. So I could go and hang out with my Chicago friends at Sidetrax on the weekends.
13.) A Carrie Bradshaw penthouse closet. I don't need the actual penthouse apartment, because I would be fine living in the closet. I'm not going to ask for an entire apartment. Do you think I'm that greedy?
14.) World peace. I feel like I had to say that.
15.) A signed copy of Harry Potter. Signed by J.K. Rowling, not some random person I don't care about. I say this, because a relative thought it would be funny to get me a signed picture of a UK basketball player one time, and I got really excited, until I saw that he signed it instead of the player. I was not amused.
16.) An invisibility cloak. There are lots of Harry Potter items on this list. Shocking, I know.
17.) A Burberry coat. Since mine got stolen.
18.) Elliot Stabler. I mean, no man has ever made a receding hairline look so damn good.
19.) A DVD player. Because the only one I have is in my bedroom and it's part of my tv. I want one for my big tv so I can pause it on a screenshot of Ryan Gosling. Shirtless.
20.) A bajillion dollars. I think I could live comfortably on that.
21.) A Denny's restaurant nearby. Because I really like their buffalo chicken sandwich.
22.) An island. If Johnny Depp can have one, so can I. JD is always invited to my island. You're probably not.
23.) A date with Prince Harry. Because I like redheads, I feel like he would make me laugh, and I can just imagine the Queen's reaction to the kind of person I am after reading my blog. Outwardly she'd be appalled, inwardly she'd be impressed.
24.) A sword. Because I think it would be really fun to open champagne bottles with a sword. And classy. But mostly, way fun.
25.) A star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Because I plan on being famous someday. With my luck though it'll be for something stupid, like dying in a ridiculous way or getting hit with some random object and becoming a Youtube sensation or Tumblr meme.
Don't fight all at once over who is going to get me what.
Till next time...
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Choose Joy
Greetings friends. Thanksgiving is now over and the holiday moves are a'plenty. Home Alone and Elf? Feel free to show those any time USA and TBS. Movies such as Love Actually? Feel free to never show that awful movie again. I know it's a ton of people (re: girls') favorite holiday movies, but it's on my top five list of worst movies of all time, along with A Walk to Remember, The Notebook (well, it probably would be if I'd seen it), The Holiday, and Saw II.
But, I want to talk about a more serious topic than I usually cover on my blogs. People know I hate the holidays, and some people know a few of the reasons but not all of them. Well, it's time for me to shut up. Just because I don't have positive holiday experiences doesn't mean I have to glare and sulk when 'All I Want for Christmas is You' comes on during a flip cup tournament (true story). About a year ago I started reading a blog at www.littleblueboo.com. The writer is an incredibly creative woman, who also suffered through the loss of her father and a serious cancer diagnosis and vigorous chemo treatments in a short time span. Thankfully, her cancer is in remission and she is living a healthy life with her husband and daughter. But her mantra throughout her trials is what has really struck a chord with me: Choose Joy.
Sometimes choosing joy is hard. It's much easier to sit around feeling sorry for yourself and eating bleu cheese crumbles (wait, is that just me?) than to put on some makeup, fluff up your hair, and go out and meet your friends for drinks. It's super easy to sit around with a frown rather than plastering a fake smile on your face and pretending nothing is wrong. But you know what, you're going to get an actual smile on your face a hell of a lot faster if you're around people that make you happy than if you're dwelling on the hard things in your life with no one but your cat for company.
So that is my goal for the holidays: to choose joy. When negative thoughts hit, choose joy. When I don't want to leave my apartment, choose joy. And when I get anxiety about the next holiday approaching, choose joy. So this holiday season I will be surrounding myself with things that make me happy: UK basketball, friends, good food, friends, good books, friends, Zumba, friends, hot chocolate, and most importantly, friends.
So while you're out caroling, making gingerbread houses, decorating Christmas cookies, listening to the Mariah Carey holiday CD on repeat, or whatever it is you holiday lovers do, I may not join you, but I'll be out choosing joy in my own way.
But, I want to talk about a more serious topic than I usually cover on my blogs. People know I hate the holidays, and some people know a few of the reasons but not all of them. Well, it's time for me to shut up. Just because I don't have positive holiday experiences doesn't mean I have to glare and sulk when 'All I Want for Christmas is You' comes on during a flip cup tournament (true story). About a year ago I started reading a blog at www.littleblueboo.com. The writer is an incredibly creative woman, who also suffered through the loss of her father and a serious cancer diagnosis and vigorous chemo treatments in a short time span. Thankfully, her cancer is in remission and she is living a healthy life with her husband and daughter. But her mantra throughout her trials is what has really struck a chord with me: Choose Joy.
Sometimes choosing joy is hard. It's much easier to sit around feeling sorry for yourself and eating bleu cheese crumbles (wait, is that just me?) than to put on some makeup, fluff up your hair, and go out and meet your friends for drinks. It's super easy to sit around with a frown rather than plastering a fake smile on your face and pretending nothing is wrong. But you know what, you're going to get an actual smile on your face a hell of a lot faster if you're around people that make you happy than if you're dwelling on the hard things in your life with no one but your cat for company.
So that is my goal for the holidays: to choose joy. When negative thoughts hit, choose joy. When I don't want to leave my apartment, choose joy. And when I get anxiety about the next holiday approaching, choose joy. So this holiday season I will be surrounding myself with things that make me happy: UK basketball, friends, good food, friends, good books, friends, Zumba, friends, hot chocolate, and most importantly, friends.
So while you're out caroling, making gingerbread houses, decorating Christmas cookies, listening to the Mariah Carey holiday CD on repeat, or whatever it is you holiday lovers do, I may not join you, but I'll be out choosing joy in my own way.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
The Adventures of Mandy & Robin: Volume I - Mandy & Robin Go To Midtown (and Whiskey Kitchen)
Happy Thanksgiving. This blog comes to you from My Old Kentucky House (since I consider Nashville my home) and so far I have survived. But I've only been here for 20 minutes, so that's not much of an accomplishment.
Now that that's out of the way, we get onto the important stuff, like what mischief myself and my friend M got into last night. So the idea for last night came about during a text conversation where we decided since we don't have much luck meeting people out when we're ourselves, we should pretend to be other people and see if we had better luck. Last night I was more of M's wingwoman, but I'm fine with that because relationships tend to require warm fuzzies and discussions of feelings, things I am not very adept at. So we came up with our alter egos. Mine is Mandy, and I am kind of an airhead, have no opinions, am supported by my daddy, and I don't like any red food. Last night I worked at Express while I was studying to get into law school, but I figured out I needed a more exciting, conversation starting career, so now I'm going to be a food stylist. A food stylist that is allergic to gluten and can't eat half of the food I style. I think that works. M's alter ego is Robin, the tattoo-less tattoo artist. She says her body is a temple and there is no one who is as good of an artist as her, so she will not let anyone tattoo her. She's supposed to be really bitchy and high maintenance, only ordering top shelf drinks and looking down on people when they order something less.
Since I didn't leave for Kentucky until this morning and M's staying in Nashville, we decided last night would be our first attempt at our social experiement. Granted, there weren't that many people out last night, but night one was actually a surprising success...in some ways. We went to Tavern for Happy Hour and got a table near the bar. There were slim pickings, so we just enjoyed our 2 for 1's and planned to meet up with two other friends at Whiskey Kitchen when we were done, agreeing to try our experiement another night when there were more people. However, we struck gold. Just as we were paying, a guy came over to our table and started talking to us. When he asked our names, I said, "Hi, I'm Mandy."
And so it was on.
Below is a (pretty accurate) transcript of our conversation.
Mary: Hi, I'm Robin.
Guy: I'm ____________. What do you guys do?
Me: I work at Express.
Mary: I'm a tattoo artist.
Guy: Whoa! That's amazing! I've never met a tattoo artist before! (His eyes got really big too)
Mary: Well, I am. I don't have any tattoos though.
Guy: Really?
Mary: Yes. My body is a temple and no one is as good as me.
Me: She gave me a tattoo on my back. It barely even hurt!
Guy: Wow. That's awesome. I don't have any tattoos. Can you tattoo over other ones?
Mary: I'm not sure I know what you mean.
Guy: Like, can you tattoo over one tattoo with a new one?
Mary: Yeah, well, there's shading you can do. With white.
Me: She can. She's really good.
Guy: So, if I were to want to get a tattoo, where could I find you?
Mary: Brentwood.
After this the guy walks away and we go to the bathroom before we leave to let out the laughter we'd been holding in. Obviously we discovered we should flush out our backstories a little bit more and come up with a name of her tattoo shop. But we were so proud that we had been approached and had kept up our acts. So as we were leaving, he comes back up to us and says he's going to be around this weekend and could he get Mary's phone number. She gives it to him, but one digit off, verbally because he says he will remember. I guess he wasn't as confident as he thought, so he got his phone to type it in. When he typed in the incorrect number, M accidentally corrected him and gave him the right one! Oops. We figured though when he called and her voicemail says "Hi, this is M _____..." he'll think he got it wrong.
Some people might think this experiment is kind of mean, and that's okay. But we are just curious and plan on going for round 2, so if you don't like it you don't have to read about it, deal?
After this, we had a very funny conversation about what if you were married to the GPS voice woman? And what if she was married to the movie trailer announcer guy? Just imagine their bedroom talk. We were crying because we were laughing so hard by the time we got to Whiskey Kitchen. We met up with two friends, talked, I watched the rest of the UK/Moorehead State basketball game, and left soon after the game was over because M and I were tired and wanted to quit while we were ahead.
All in all, a pretty entertaining Wednesday night in Nashville. Here's hoping to have installment II after next weekend.
Till then, just say no to third and fourth helpings of food. You'll thank me when it's Monday morning and you have to fit in your dress pants.
Now that that's out of the way, we get onto the important stuff, like what mischief myself and my friend M got into last night. So the idea for last night came about during a text conversation where we decided since we don't have much luck meeting people out when we're ourselves, we should pretend to be other people and see if we had better luck. Last night I was more of M's wingwoman, but I'm fine with that because relationships tend to require warm fuzzies and discussions of feelings, things I am not very adept at. So we came up with our alter egos. Mine is Mandy, and I am kind of an airhead, have no opinions, am supported by my daddy, and I don't like any red food. Last night I worked at Express while I was studying to get into law school, but I figured out I needed a more exciting, conversation starting career, so now I'm going to be a food stylist. A food stylist that is allergic to gluten and can't eat half of the food I style. I think that works. M's alter ego is Robin, the tattoo-less tattoo artist. She says her body is a temple and there is no one who is as good of an artist as her, so she will not let anyone tattoo her. She's supposed to be really bitchy and high maintenance, only ordering top shelf drinks and looking down on people when they order something less.
Since I didn't leave for Kentucky until this morning and M's staying in Nashville, we decided last night would be our first attempt at our social experiement. Granted, there weren't that many people out last night, but night one was actually a surprising success...in some ways. We went to Tavern for Happy Hour and got a table near the bar. There were slim pickings, so we just enjoyed our 2 for 1's and planned to meet up with two other friends at Whiskey Kitchen when we were done, agreeing to try our experiement another night when there were more people. However, we struck gold. Just as we were paying, a guy came over to our table and started talking to us. When he asked our names, I said, "Hi, I'm Mandy."
And so it was on.
Below is a (pretty accurate) transcript of our conversation.
Mary: Hi, I'm Robin.
Guy: I'm ____________. What do you guys do?
Me: I work at Express.
Mary: I'm a tattoo artist.
Guy: Whoa! That's amazing! I've never met a tattoo artist before! (His eyes got really big too)
Mary: Well, I am. I don't have any tattoos though.
Guy: Really?
Mary: Yes. My body is a temple and no one is as good as me.
Me: She gave me a tattoo on my back. It barely even hurt!
Guy: Wow. That's awesome. I don't have any tattoos. Can you tattoo over other ones?
Mary: I'm not sure I know what you mean.
Guy: Like, can you tattoo over one tattoo with a new one?
Mary: Yeah, well, there's shading you can do. With white.
Me: She can. She's really good.
Guy: So, if I were to want to get a tattoo, where could I find you?
Mary: Brentwood.
After this the guy walks away and we go to the bathroom before we leave to let out the laughter we'd been holding in. Obviously we discovered we should flush out our backstories a little bit more and come up with a name of her tattoo shop. But we were so proud that we had been approached and had kept up our acts. So as we were leaving, he comes back up to us and says he's going to be around this weekend and could he get Mary's phone number. She gives it to him, but one digit off, verbally because he says he will remember. I guess he wasn't as confident as he thought, so he got his phone to type it in. When he typed in the incorrect number, M accidentally corrected him and gave him the right one! Oops. We figured though when he called and her voicemail says "Hi, this is M _____..." he'll think he got it wrong.
Some people might think this experiment is kind of mean, and that's okay. But we are just curious and plan on going for round 2, so if you don't like it you don't have to read about it, deal?
After this, we had a very funny conversation about what if you were married to the GPS voice woman? And what if she was married to the movie trailer announcer guy? Just imagine their bedroom talk. We were crying because we were laughing so hard by the time we got to Whiskey Kitchen. We met up with two friends, talked, I watched the rest of the UK/Moorehead State basketball game, and left soon after the game was over because M and I were tired and wanted to quit while we were ahead.
All in all, a pretty entertaining Wednesday night in Nashville. Here's hoping to have installment II after next weekend.
Till then, just say no to third and fourth helpings of food. You'll thank me when it's Monday morning and you have to fit in your dress pants.
Friday, November 16, 2012
25 Things To Know About Going Out After The Age of 25
The favorite redhead shared the following link with me earlier today: http://www.redeyechicago.com/news/ct-red-1116-chicago-drinking-20121115,0,3120522,full.story and said it reminded her of one of my blog entries. It's good to know that some people think I am as funny as I think I am. So, I decided to do my own version, based on the article 25 Things To Know About Drinking After You Turn 25, but I will title mine 25 Things To Know About Going Out After You Turn 25. Here we go.
1.) Funnels are overrated. Flabongoes are not. And yes, it's exactly what you think it is. A drinking apparatus made out of a yard flamingo.
2.) Sparkly shirts, okay. Sparkly dresses, are okay too as long as you're going somewhere fancier than Broadway Brewhouse. Sparkly pants are always a bad decision.
3.) Never pay a cover to get a in bar. Ever.
4.) If you want to do a shot it had better not be pink. If you're 25 or over and can't do a shot of a grown up drink like whiskey, just go home.
5.) If you think a guy across the bar is cute ask the opinion of at least three of your friends. Not because you really want their approval, but they can save you some embarassment if the guy is not as cute as you and your gin & tonic goggles think he is.
6.) Always have cash. Don't be the ass who never pays for cabs. Your friends know this about you and secretly plot how to never have to share a cab with you again.
7.) The pregame is your friend. The less money you have to spend while you're out, the better.
8.) Pace yourself. Being falling down drunk at age 27 is not nearly as attractive as being falling down drunk when you're 21. Actually, both are frowned upon. If you think one more drink is going to take you over the edge, don't have that one more drink. It's simple.
9.) Dancing on a table with your friends never gets old. Well, I'm sure it does. Maybe when you're 30?
10.) Just make sure the table is not going to break.
11.) Nothing good ever comes out of a night in which the words "Let's do a shot of Jagermeister" are spoken.
12.) Don't spend more on your bar tab than you do on your groceries. It's no longer acceptable to call your parents after a weekend of debauchery to ask for money for Ramen.
13.) If you still live with your parents after the age of 25, plan ahead. Get a buddy to let you say you live at his place. Because trust me, nothing makes a girl lose interest faster than hearing, "Well, I live with my mom so can we go to your place?" No. No you may not.
14.) Okay, this one is a little racy, but it's a valid tip. Ladies, I know the dress and tights or skirt and tights combo is popular. But if you're going home with a guy (or girl), as soon as you get to whoever's place, go to the bathroom and ditch the tights. Because few things are less sexy than standing in front of someone in your bra and tights pulled up to your waist. You know this is true. Unless they are thigh highs. In that case, have at it.
15.) Girls, buy your own damn drinks. It's not a guy's responsibility to keep you liquored up all night, especially if you're not interested in him. Be nice. (You know I mean it if I'm telling someone to be nice.)
16.) Always make sure the person you're talking to is legal. You do not need a lawsuit.
17.) Buy rounds of drinks or pitchers for your friends. Who cares if you did this last week too? In the grand scheme of things, it evens out. Don't nickel and dime people at 1:45 a.m. at Paradise Park. It's annoying. You're not that poor anymore.
18.) Be responsible. Know where you can stay at the end of the night if you can't drive home. Pack a bag and bring pjs. You'll be grateful for these items when you don't have to sleep in your dress and tights on your friend's couch.
19.) Don't be a cougar. Because at 27, you being a cougar would mean that the guy is like 20. No.
20.) Do not waste your money paying people at piano bars to play songs like Wagon Wheel or Rocky Top. You're in downtown Nashville. Just be patient. These songs will be played numerous times throughout the evening. Keep your Lincolns, Jeffersons and Washingtons.
21.) You are too old to get in arguments with fans of the opposing team. Whether you won or lost, just move on.
22.) In the age old battle of cars vs. man, man will always lose. So please quit walking out in the middle of Broadway.
23.) If there are more people in the bar with fake IDS than real ones, you're probably too old to be there.
24.) It's still fun to catch up with your friends about what happened the night before. It just happens at 4 p.m. the next day instead of brunch because your body hates you.
25.) It's okay to stay in some Friday and Saturday nights. Thanks to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and all the other technology out there, you can still know what your friends are up to while you are sitting on your couch in your red footie pajamas eating cereal.
Til next time...
1.) Funnels are overrated. Flabongoes are not. And yes, it's exactly what you think it is. A drinking apparatus made out of a yard flamingo.
2.) Sparkly shirts, okay. Sparkly dresses, are okay too as long as you're going somewhere fancier than Broadway Brewhouse. Sparkly pants are always a bad decision.
3.) Never pay a cover to get a in bar. Ever.
4.) If you want to do a shot it had better not be pink. If you're 25 or over and can't do a shot of a grown up drink like whiskey, just go home.
5.) If you think a guy across the bar is cute ask the opinion of at least three of your friends. Not because you really want their approval, but they can save you some embarassment if the guy is not as cute as you and your gin & tonic goggles think he is.
6.) Always have cash. Don't be the ass who never pays for cabs. Your friends know this about you and secretly plot how to never have to share a cab with you again.
7.) The pregame is your friend. The less money you have to spend while you're out, the better.
8.) Pace yourself. Being falling down drunk at age 27 is not nearly as attractive as being falling down drunk when you're 21. Actually, both are frowned upon. If you think one more drink is going to take you over the edge, don't have that one more drink. It's simple.
9.) Dancing on a table with your friends never gets old. Well, I'm sure it does. Maybe when you're 30?
10.) Just make sure the table is not going to break.
11.) Nothing good ever comes out of a night in which the words "Let's do a shot of Jagermeister" are spoken.
12.) Don't spend more on your bar tab than you do on your groceries. It's no longer acceptable to call your parents after a weekend of debauchery to ask for money for Ramen.
13.) If you still live with your parents after the age of 25, plan ahead. Get a buddy to let you say you live at his place. Because trust me, nothing makes a girl lose interest faster than hearing, "Well, I live with my mom so can we go to your place?" No. No you may not.
14.) Okay, this one is a little racy, but it's a valid tip. Ladies, I know the dress and tights or skirt and tights combo is popular. But if you're going home with a guy (or girl), as soon as you get to whoever's place, go to the bathroom and ditch the tights. Because few things are less sexy than standing in front of someone in your bra and tights pulled up to your waist. You know this is true. Unless they are thigh highs. In that case, have at it.
15.) Girls, buy your own damn drinks. It's not a guy's responsibility to keep you liquored up all night, especially if you're not interested in him. Be nice. (You know I mean it if I'm telling someone to be nice.)
16.) Always make sure the person you're talking to is legal. You do not need a lawsuit.
17.) Buy rounds of drinks or pitchers for your friends. Who cares if you did this last week too? In the grand scheme of things, it evens out. Don't nickel and dime people at 1:45 a.m. at Paradise Park. It's annoying. You're not that poor anymore.
18.) Be responsible. Know where you can stay at the end of the night if you can't drive home. Pack a bag and bring pjs. You'll be grateful for these items when you don't have to sleep in your dress and tights on your friend's couch.
19.) Don't be a cougar. Because at 27, you being a cougar would mean that the guy is like 20. No.
20.) Do not waste your money paying people at piano bars to play songs like Wagon Wheel or Rocky Top. You're in downtown Nashville. Just be patient. These songs will be played numerous times throughout the evening. Keep your Lincolns, Jeffersons and Washingtons.
21.) You are too old to get in arguments with fans of the opposing team. Whether you won or lost, just move on.
22.) In the age old battle of cars vs. man, man will always lose. So please quit walking out in the middle of Broadway.
23.) If there are more people in the bar with fake IDS than real ones, you're probably too old to be there.
24.) It's still fun to catch up with your friends about what happened the night before. It just happens at 4 p.m. the next day instead of brunch because your body hates you.
25.) It's okay to stay in some Friday and Saturday nights. Thanks to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and all the other technology out there, you can still know what your friends are up to while you are sitting on your couch in your red footie pajamas eating cereal.
Til next time...
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
A Letter to 17 Year Old Me
Hi friends. Wow, that was quite a weekend. Super glad I had yesterday off to recover from my weekend. Oh, and in case you were wondering, it is in fact possible to dirty dance with someone to 'Sandstorm.' You're welcome.
So I read a quote the other day that said, "Would the person you were 10 years ago look up to the person you are today?" At first I was like, um, NO...17 year old me would definitely not look up to 27 year old me. But then, I kept thinking, and it dawned on me that 17 year old me was kind of lame...and naive...and sheltered. So, I figured I would write a letter to myself back then, saying even though I turned out way differently than I thought I would, I turned out okay.
Dear 17 Year Old Anna,
Hey girl. I hope you have gotten over the initial shock of reading this blog, curse words and inappropriate stories and all. I'm sure you're wondering how the hell you turned out this way. You used to be so quiet and innocent and unaware of the ways of the world. Well, let me tell you, college wakes you up. Forget high school being the best four years of your life (we both know that high school sucked)...college is your time. You'll blossom into a social butterfly, get your first really serious boyfriend and talk about getting married, and you'll have some interesting life experiences on a cruise ship. You'll also get an awesome internship that will lead you to the best first job you could ever imagine. So stop breathing into a paper bag every time you see the word 'shit' on here and listen to me: you're going to be FINE.
College really is your time. You get to experience being on your own and making your own decisions all of the time. You'll also change your major, but only once. Good job. Most people change their majors at least 3 times before sophomore year. You'll meet some of your best friends, and you'll meet a lot of people you'll never talk to again, except for the annual birthday post on Facebook. Oh, and you'll discover Facebook. And you'll lose hours of your life stalking people you went to high school with.
Grad school...well, will not be your time. In fact, in your first semester, you'll find out something that will turn your world upside down. It'll be a rough couple of months, but you'll get over it. Well, I'm sure you'll end up on a couch talking to a shrink at some point in your life because of it, but you'll at least make it to 27 without an emotional breakdown. It'll change your total outlook on life, will change your religious beliefs, and will help mold you into the cynical person I am today...but you'll live. It will make you stronger, help you realize who you really are, and make you an advocate for what you believe in. You. Will. Be. Fine. Yeah, it'll suck for a while...and it still does coming up on five years later, but you're a survivor...a la Destiny's Child.
Oh, and you won't go to church for a while. Like, it's going on five years now. You'll still love Jesus, but you just won't enjoy being around a lot of the people that love him too for several reasons. I'm sure you'll go back someday, that day just hasn't come yet.
You'll have a great first job, a notsogreat second job, and an amazing third job. You'll end up working for the Department of Revenue where you will approve Tax Enforcement reports, negotiate prices and building floorplans with architects, and deal heavily with budget hearings, all with your History degree. Belmont was right...'From Here, to Anywhere."
But lastly, and most importantly, you'll have some of the best friends you could ever imagine. Friends that you go on Key West trips with, tailgate with, have cooking club with, call when good things happen with boys and when bad things happen with boys, will come sit with you when your loved ones are sick, will bring care packages to your door, will give you nicknames that inspire blogs, will give you their UK basketball tickets, will come to your events to support you, will make you laugh on the hard days, and will share inappropriate stories that involve "whoopsie-daisies", accidental Asians, and shooter fingers and other awkward hand gestures at inopportune times with. You'll be tired a lot on Monday mornings because of all the fun you had over the weekend, but you'll be loved.
So relax. I'm sure you still can't imagine how the sweet, little, angelic girl who never said a curse word in her life ended up with the mouth of a sailor and enjoys dancing on tables at Paradise Park. Just know that you'll have professional success, personal accomplishments, and (a complete lack of) social grace. But also know, you're going to have a hell of a lot of fun.
Peace, love, and Real Housewives (just wait...you're going to LOVE these shows),
27 Year Old Anna
So I read a quote the other day that said, "Would the person you were 10 years ago look up to the person you are today?" At first I was like, um, NO...17 year old me would definitely not look up to 27 year old me. But then, I kept thinking, and it dawned on me that 17 year old me was kind of lame...and naive...and sheltered. So, I figured I would write a letter to myself back then, saying even though I turned out way differently than I thought I would, I turned out okay.
Dear 17 Year Old Anna,
Hey girl. I hope you have gotten over the initial shock of reading this blog, curse words and inappropriate stories and all. I'm sure you're wondering how the hell you turned out this way. You used to be so quiet and innocent and unaware of the ways of the world. Well, let me tell you, college wakes you up. Forget high school being the best four years of your life (we both know that high school sucked)...college is your time. You'll blossom into a social butterfly, get your first really serious boyfriend and talk about getting married, and you'll have some interesting life experiences on a cruise ship. You'll also get an awesome internship that will lead you to the best first job you could ever imagine. So stop breathing into a paper bag every time you see the word 'shit' on here and listen to me: you're going to be FINE.
College really is your time. You get to experience being on your own and making your own decisions all of the time. You'll also change your major, but only once. Good job. Most people change their majors at least 3 times before sophomore year. You'll meet some of your best friends, and you'll meet a lot of people you'll never talk to again, except for the annual birthday post on Facebook. Oh, and you'll discover Facebook. And you'll lose hours of your life stalking people you went to high school with.
Grad school...well, will not be your time. In fact, in your first semester, you'll find out something that will turn your world upside down. It'll be a rough couple of months, but you'll get over it. Well, I'm sure you'll end up on a couch talking to a shrink at some point in your life because of it, but you'll at least make it to 27 without an emotional breakdown. It'll change your total outlook on life, will change your religious beliefs, and will help mold you into the cynical person I am today...but you'll live. It will make you stronger, help you realize who you really are, and make you an advocate for what you believe in. You. Will. Be. Fine. Yeah, it'll suck for a while...and it still does coming up on five years later, but you're a survivor...a la Destiny's Child.
Oh, and you won't go to church for a while. Like, it's going on five years now. You'll still love Jesus, but you just won't enjoy being around a lot of the people that love him too for several reasons. I'm sure you'll go back someday, that day just hasn't come yet.
You'll have a great first job, a notsogreat second job, and an amazing third job. You'll end up working for the Department of Revenue where you will approve Tax Enforcement reports, negotiate prices and building floorplans with architects, and deal heavily with budget hearings, all with your History degree. Belmont was right...'From Here, to Anywhere."
But lastly, and most importantly, you'll have some of the best friends you could ever imagine. Friends that you go on Key West trips with, tailgate with, have cooking club with, call when good things happen with boys and when bad things happen with boys, will come sit with you when your loved ones are sick, will bring care packages to your door, will give you nicknames that inspire blogs, will give you their UK basketball tickets, will come to your events to support you, will make you laugh on the hard days, and will share inappropriate stories that involve "whoopsie-daisies", accidental Asians, and shooter fingers and other awkward hand gestures at inopportune times with. You'll be tired a lot on Monday mornings because of all the fun you had over the weekend, but you'll be loved.
So relax. I'm sure you still can't imagine how the sweet, little, angelic girl who never said a curse word in her life ended up with the mouth of a sailor and enjoys dancing on tables at Paradise Park. Just know that you'll have professional success, personal accomplishments, and (a complete lack of) social grace. But also know, you're going to have a hell of a lot of fun.
Peace, love, and Real Housewives (just wait...you're going to LOVE these shows),
27 Year Old Anna
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Anatomy of a UK Fan
People who know me, or people who just stalk my Facebook wall, are well aware that I am a die-hard UK sports fan. Of course I get most excited about basketball, but I'm a football fan too (unfortunately). And I love sports in general. I'm one of those girls that genuinely likes sitting on the couch all day Sunday and watching football. I don't get to do it as much as I like because hey, I'm really popular and I have a very demanding social schedule, but I'll occassionally instruct my assistant to block my Sunday afternoon for football viewing. I wish I had an assistant.
I at first titled this entry 'Anatomy of a Sports Fan,' but I decided to change it because I wanted to write about my UK fandom. Being a UK fan is a privilege like no other. UK basketball is my happy place. March Madness is my Christmas. Few things make me happier on this earth than taking off the first Thursday and Friday of March Madness, going to a bar with friends, and watching basketball all day, cheering when my brackets fall into place, cursing when my "sure bets" lose (damn you, Belmont), and laughing when Duke goes out in the first round to Lehigh.
They call UK fans the Blue Mist because wherever our team goes, we follow. The tournament in Hawaii last year? Mostly blue. UK fans with tickets to the UK/Maryland game on Friday are searching for ways to get to New York in lieu of Hurricane Sandy (I picture the leather clad version of Sandy from Grease...the poodle skirt version wouldn't have been near as much of a bitch) and the nor'easter that is threatening the east coast once again.
I hate when people say I must have hopped on the bandwagon because UK is good again. Granted, this comes from people who don't know me. Because, people who do know me, know that I was just a big of a fan in the Dark Ages (BCG era) as I am now. I also hate when people talk about our one-and-dones. Yes, I will miss the Darius Millers of the world: the Kentucky kid, who was Mr. Basketball, a four year player, led his team to a championship, and graduated with his diploma. Don't think I didn't cry when the team was introduced at Rupp as National Champions and Miller got a standing ovation. God, it still brings a tear to my eye and makes my black heart of ice melt a slight bit. But I love my one-and-dones too. I get just as excited when John Wall, Demarcus Cousins, Rajon Rondo, or any former player comes back for a visit. Or when they do cool things. Just the other day Rondo went to two schools in New York to hang out with the students, completely on his own, with no publicist or posse. He just wanted to go hang out with the students. Regardless of who you cheer for, that's awesome.
But I want to go back to something I said in the previous paragraph about former players coming back for a visit. They come back because they know they are loved. They come back because being part of the Big Blue Nation means something to them. They come back because they love their UK family as much as we love them. You'd be hard pressed to find another school that emotes such love from its players. Whether it be to play in an exhibition game, come watch the new generation of Cats, or to be the coveted "Y" at a game (my dream), it's not uncommon to see former players come back to be around the program that embraced them.
The other night after our kickball championship game, some of us went to Logans to celebrate. All of a sudden highlights of the night's UK game came on the tv and I'm pretty sure I trailed off mid-sentence and became mesmerized at the smooth moves of Nerlens Noel's flat top. My friend A was there too, and he pretty much did the same thing. One of our friends commented at the looks on our faces...how happy we were and how we didn't care about anything else going on in the room. So true. The Rapture could have began and an angel could have swept down from heaven to whisk me away (that is, if I'm allowed in) and I would have told him to hold on until I watched the replay of that last dunk.
The Favorite Redhead and her fiance gave me their Vandy season tickets for the UK/Vandy game in Nashville. This is probably one of the top three nicest gifts I have ever received. They could have gone to the game, or they could have sold the tickets and made a nice profit. But, they know how much I love my team, and they gave them to me as an early birthday present. I'm pretty sure if anyone were to ever give me UK season tickets, I would marry them on the spot...and as someone who does not really want to get married, that's a pretty bold statement. But honestly, pretty true.
I love watching games with other UK fans because they're as nuts as I am. You know the type. The ones who wear their lucky blue underwear for important games (I know this does not just describe me). The ones who will go sit on the other side of the room if UK was doing better when they were on the couch versus the chair. The ones who will say the same phrase over and over because it means good things are happening ("This is HUGE"). The ones who love their team no matter what, and don't go on Facebook tirades after the games to berate the players and coaches.
So if you're looking for a UK game watching buddy, I am more than happy to be your girl. I have a huge tv, a comfy couch, and plenty of popsicles. Come on over! And don't forget your lucky blue underwear.
I at first titled this entry 'Anatomy of a Sports Fan,' but I decided to change it because I wanted to write about my UK fandom. Being a UK fan is a privilege like no other. UK basketball is my happy place. March Madness is my Christmas. Few things make me happier on this earth than taking off the first Thursday and Friday of March Madness, going to a bar with friends, and watching basketball all day, cheering when my brackets fall into place, cursing when my "sure bets" lose (damn you, Belmont), and laughing when Duke goes out in the first round to Lehigh.
They call UK fans the Blue Mist because wherever our team goes, we follow. The tournament in Hawaii last year? Mostly blue. UK fans with tickets to the UK/Maryland game on Friday are searching for ways to get to New York in lieu of Hurricane Sandy (I picture the leather clad version of Sandy from Grease...the poodle skirt version wouldn't have been near as much of a bitch) and the nor'easter that is threatening the east coast once again.
I hate when people say I must have hopped on the bandwagon because UK is good again. Granted, this comes from people who don't know me. Because, people who do know me, know that I was just a big of a fan in the Dark Ages (BCG era) as I am now. I also hate when people talk about our one-and-dones. Yes, I will miss the Darius Millers of the world: the Kentucky kid, who was Mr. Basketball, a four year player, led his team to a championship, and graduated with his diploma. Don't think I didn't cry when the team was introduced at Rupp as National Champions and Miller got a standing ovation. God, it still brings a tear to my eye and makes my black heart of ice melt a slight bit. But I love my one-and-dones too. I get just as excited when John Wall, Demarcus Cousins, Rajon Rondo, or any former player comes back for a visit. Or when they do cool things. Just the other day Rondo went to two schools in New York to hang out with the students, completely on his own, with no publicist or posse. He just wanted to go hang out with the students. Regardless of who you cheer for, that's awesome.
But I want to go back to something I said in the previous paragraph about former players coming back for a visit. They come back because they know they are loved. They come back because being part of the Big Blue Nation means something to them. They come back because they love their UK family as much as we love them. You'd be hard pressed to find another school that emotes such love from its players. Whether it be to play in an exhibition game, come watch the new generation of Cats, or to be the coveted "Y" at a game (my dream), it's not uncommon to see former players come back to be around the program that embraced them.
The other night after our kickball championship game, some of us went to Logans to celebrate. All of a sudden highlights of the night's UK game came on the tv and I'm pretty sure I trailed off mid-sentence and became mesmerized at the smooth moves of Nerlens Noel's flat top. My friend A was there too, and he pretty much did the same thing. One of our friends commented at the looks on our faces...how happy we were and how we didn't care about anything else going on in the room. So true. The Rapture could have began and an angel could have swept down from heaven to whisk me away (that is, if I'm allowed in) and I would have told him to hold on until I watched the replay of that last dunk.
The Favorite Redhead and her fiance gave me their Vandy season tickets for the UK/Vandy game in Nashville. This is probably one of the top three nicest gifts I have ever received. They could have gone to the game, or they could have sold the tickets and made a nice profit. But, they know how much I love my team, and they gave them to me as an early birthday present. I'm pretty sure if anyone were to ever give me UK season tickets, I would marry them on the spot...and as someone who does not really want to get married, that's a pretty bold statement. But honestly, pretty true.
I love watching games with other UK fans because they're as nuts as I am. You know the type. The ones who wear their lucky blue underwear for important games (I know this does not just describe me). The ones who will go sit on the other side of the room if UK was doing better when they were on the couch versus the chair. The ones who will say the same phrase over and over because it means good things are happening ("This is HUGE"). The ones who love their team no matter what, and don't go on Facebook tirades after the games to berate the players and coaches.
So if you're looking for a UK game watching buddy, I am more than happy to be your girl. I have a huge tv, a comfy couch, and plenty of popsicles. Come on over! And don't forget your lucky blue underwear.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Why I Voted the Way I Did...
Happy Election Day!
Just a warning, this post more than likely isn't going to be very funny, so if you're looking for my usual rapier wit and humor, you should probably check back later this week for my Anatomy of a Sports Fan entry I've been working on.
This post is in no way trying to persuade anyone who to vote for. I'm one of the last people that you should look to for advice on how to vote, but I do think I have more credibility than the Guitar Hero/Guitar Zero guy in those annoying commercials. This is simply my reason for voting the way I did.
Everyone has their issues that are most important to them. Some people rate the economy highest on the importance scale, others the environment, others healthcare, and so on. There is no right or wrong hierarchy of importance, it differs with each person. Me? I'm a social issue voter. Therefore, I proudly cast my vote for Barack Obama.
To me, the choice was simple. Yes, I agree with parts of Mitt Romney's platform, and I actually side with him on more economic and immigration issues. However, on issues that are most important to me, such as gay/lesbian rights, a woman's right to choose, and birth control, Barack Obama is my guy.
A Republican friend asked me why I supported Barack Obama, and I told him that my main reason was because of his stance on gay marriage. His response was that he didn't think the government should have say in gay marriage so therefore it was a non-issue to him. But the problem is, the government has inserted itself into the gay marriage debate, so therefore it is a huge issue.
I have wonderful gay friends that deserve to be just as miserable as everyone else that gets married. I want to dodge the bouquet at my friend T's wedding, like I do at every other wedding I attend. I want him to be able to choose where he gets married, and not have to pick from one of a handful of states where his and his partner's union will be legally binding. I want my friends and their partners to have the same rights as opposite sex couples, when it comes to health benefits and visitation rights. And most of all, I want an important person in my life to finally admit who they are to the world, and feel safe to be openly gay and proud. Do I think if Obama is re-elected all of this is going to happen overnight? No. Do I think if Romney is elected then none of this will ever happen? No. I'll say it in French too. Non. But, I think it will happen a lot faster if we re-elect our current president.
It kills me when people make election night declarations that they are moving out of the country if their candidate loses. Um, have you forgotten your fourth grade Social Studies lessons? There are two other branches of government that have a say in the laws we follow in our country: the Legislative branch and the Judicial branch. Just because one man is elected (I say one because VPs don't really do anything, let's be honest), it doesn't mean the entire country is going to completely go to shit and change dramatically. With government bureacracy, it will take years to accomplish even the most simple task. I mean, our state legislature once had an hour long discussion on whether or not to change the temperature in the chambers. You expect anything to get done fast?
Whether you're voting for Obama, Romney, or another party, just please get out there and vote. People say their vote won't make a difference, and maybe it won't...but it's a right we enjoy that many people across the world would give anything to have, and to waste it is an awful, irresponsible thing.
I'll end this by saying best wishes to the next president. I sure as hell wouldn't want your job. Although, it would probably get me amazing seats to UK basketball games...hmm...
Just a warning, this post more than likely isn't going to be very funny, so if you're looking for my usual rapier wit and humor, you should probably check back later this week for my Anatomy of a Sports Fan entry I've been working on.
This post is in no way trying to persuade anyone who to vote for. I'm one of the last people that you should look to for advice on how to vote, but I do think I have more credibility than the Guitar Hero/Guitar Zero guy in those annoying commercials. This is simply my reason for voting the way I did.
Everyone has their issues that are most important to them. Some people rate the economy highest on the importance scale, others the environment, others healthcare, and so on. There is no right or wrong hierarchy of importance, it differs with each person. Me? I'm a social issue voter. Therefore, I proudly cast my vote for Barack Obama.
To me, the choice was simple. Yes, I agree with parts of Mitt Romney's platform, and I actually side with him on more economic and immigration issues. However, on issues that are most important to me, such as gay/lesbian rights, a woman's right to choose, and birth control, Barack Obama is my guy.
A Republican friend asked me why I supported Barack Obama, and I told him that my main reason was because of his stance on gay marriage. His response was that he didn't think the government should have say in gay marriage so therefore it was a non-issue to him. But the problem is, the government has inserted itself into the gay marriage debate, so therefore it is a huge issue.
I have wonderful gay friends that deserve to be just as miserable as everyone else that gets married. I want to dodge the bouquet at my friend T's wedding, like I do at every other wedding I attend. I want him to be able to choose where he gets married, and not have to pick from one of a handful of states where his and his partner's union will be legally binding. I want my friends and their partners to have the same rights as opposite sex couples, when it comes to health benefits and visitation rights. And most of all, I want an important person in my life to finally admit who they are to the world, and feel safe to be openly gay and proud. Do I think if Obama is re-elected all of this is going to happen overnight? No. Do I think if Romney is elected then none of this will ever happen? No. I'll say it in French too. Non. But, I think it will happen a lot faster if we re-elect our current president.
It kills me when people make election night declarations that they are moving out of the country if their candidate loses. Um, have you forgotten your fourth grade Social Studies lessons? There are two other branches of government that have a say in the laws we follow in our country: the Legislative branch and the Judicial branch. Just because one man is elected (I say one because VPs don't really do anything, let's be honest), it doesn't mean the entire country is going to completely go to shit and change dramatically. With government bureacracy, it will take years to accomplish even the most simple task. I mean, our state legislature once had an hour long discussion on whether or not to change the temperature in the chambers. You expect anything to get done fast?
Whether you're voting for Obama, Romney, or another party, just please get out there and vote. People say their vote won't make a difference, and maybe it won't...but it's a right we enjoy that many people across the world would give anything to have, and to waste it is an awful, irresponsible thing.
I'll end this by saying best wishes to the next president. I sure as hell wouldn't want your job. Although, it would probably get me amazing seats to UK basketball games...hmm...
Monday, November 5, 2012
The Five People You Meet in Nashville on a Saturday Night...Part Tres
Well, it's that time again to revisit one of my favorite blog posts, The Five People You Meet in Nashville on a Saturday Night. This past weekend I found five more people you typically meet and I got really excited about it. Thinking about blog posts in a bar. Wow, I'm fun.
1.) The person who gets there on time.
You know what I'm talking about. This person is punctual and because of that, they are punished. Their friends said, "See you at Paradise Park at 10:00!" so they show up at 9:59 ready to get their Fireball shots on. Unfortunately, they are the only person in their group who actually shows up at 10, so they have to stand by themselves. Or, they could sit on the Pop-A-Shot machine to see if anyone talks to them. Their choice. See, there is an unspoken rule that you should never show up to things on time. Well, work is different, but optional activities that involve bars, drinks, or boys (or girls, if that's what you're into) don't fall into the same category as work. It's pretty safe to show up 20 minutes late and you'll still be one of the first people there. Show up any earlier, and you'll be standing alone in a bar, pretending like you're texting someone on your cell phone, silently wishing your friends to just show the f--- up already. When they do get there the person who has been there for 20 minutes already says "Oh no, it's fine, it's fine!" when the others apologize for their tardiness, but you and I know it's really not fine. They're just saying that hoping that their friends will buy them booze for their efforts. More likely then not, this doesn't happen, so the poor soul starts out the night with a badditude. See what I did there?
2.) The person who is wasted at 11:00 p.m.
As I was walking toward Paradise Park on Saturday night I witnessed a guy and a girl literally carrying another girl across Broadway. The guy had her upper body and the girl had her legs. Girl was semi-passed out. I looked at my watch (or rather, my cell phone since I do not own a watch) and it was barely 11 p.m. Now either she had been day drinking (which there was no Vanderbilt home game so I don't know why she would have been) or she was just a lightweight. But damn...didn't her friends try to slow her down at the bar? She wasn't dressed up light a bride or a birthday girl, and she wasn't that cute, so I doubt she was in the position to have free drinks given to her all night. Usually everyone has their drink threshold, where you know one more is going to put you over the edge and turn you into a hot mess of a person that cries at the drop of a hat and finds the sudden urge to tell people how much you love them. (Much like at Steeplechase when we sat around in a circle and told eachother what we liked about them. Aw, memories.) And most people actively try not to cross this threshold. Well, girlfriend Saturday night did not pay one bit of attention to that threshold, and as a result, anyone walking down Broadway at about 11:04 p.m. got to witness her being carted off to safety by her trusty friends. I wonder if any guy has ever seen a girl like that and been like, "THAT is my future ex-wife right there." Just curious.
3.) The person you should probably remember but you don't.
This has never happened to me because I don't make a habit of making out with random people at bars (unfortunately), but it's happened to friends of mine so it counts as personal experience. You catch someone's eye, you do the 'hold eye contact for 5 seconds and look away' thing, and he comes over to talk to you. Just when you think you might get a free drink or some action out of this conversation, he opens his mouth and says "Hi _____ (insert your name here)." You freeze, because you have no idea who this person is...or do you? Suddenly, he starts to look familiar. You start talking, hoping you're going to remember what his name is, as the details start to come back, albeit fuzzy. Oh yeah, he's the guy you made out with three weekends ago to up your self esteem since the boy you were interested in didn't call you! What was his name again? Dave? Dan? Devin? (It's Lloyd...or something equally as ridiculous). You chit chat for a few minutes, promise to come find him later (lie) and then actively try to avoid him for the rest of the night before sneaking out to another bar while his back is turned.
4.) Your new best friend.
So you're out celebrating a huge win for your sports team and you see someone else in the bar wearing your team colors. Instantly, you're bff and are talking about getting brunch together sometime. You have so much in common, you think her hair is super pretty, and you want her to be in your wedding someday. You introduce them to your group of friends, talk about how awesome she is, and you promise to get her number so you guys can go share $8 mimosas at Tavern sometime. Except...you forget about the person 15 minutes after they leave. Saturday night was the night of the Alabama/LSU game where 'Bama came from behind to score a touchdown (that's what she said?) with like a minute left to play. So there were lots of Alabama fans out that night. As soon as I walked into the bar people started yelling "Roll Tide!" to me. I guess because I was wearing red, so obviously I had to support Alabama, right? Actually, I could have cared less, but cheered for Alabama because M, fiance to the Favorite Redhead, is a diehard fan. People were toasting their pitchers of beer to the Crimson Tide and lots of meaningful friendships were made that night. Meaningful for 17 minutes, anyway.
5.) The Stalker guy.
Now this one can get a bit creepy. I was walking back to my car Saturday night and this guy started walking with me. He was pretty good looking, had on well fitting jeans, and was not homeless...my normal dating criteria. However, he was hammered (not my dating criteria) and I really don't think he had any idea what he was doing. I tried to speed up to walk away from him, but I'm only 5'2" and my legs only move so fast. Here's how our conversation went:
Him: Is your hair red?
Me: Kind of.
Him: I love redheads.
Me: Good for you.
Him: Even though I dated one in high school and she broke my heart when she cheated on me with my best friend.
Me: Tough story.
Him: Yeah, it was pretty painful. Hey, want to share a hot dog with me?
Me: I'm allergic to hot dogs.
Him: Oh. Okay. Want to share a cab?
Me: I'm sober. I'm driving home.
Him: Oh. Well, can I come home with you?
Me: Absolutely not.
At this point we are approaching the garage where I parked my car. The guy didn't give off a creepy vibe, but no girl likes to be cornered by a guy she doesn't know in a a parking garage. Instead of making a scene and yelling "Stranger danger!" or something, I quickly pointed to something across the street, forcing him to look away from me, and ran around the corner when he wasn't looking. My evasive tactics must have worked, because he didn't follow me. I really should get better about walking to my car alone at night.
Okay folks, that's all for installment 3. Maybe there will be a 4, who knows...it just all depends on who I meet out in Nashville on a Saturday night!
1.) The person who gets there on time.
You know what I'm talking about. This person is punctual and because of that, they are punished. Their friends said, "See you at Paradise Park at 10:00!" so they show up at 9:59 ready to get their Fireball shots on. Unfortunately, they are the only person in their group who actually shows up at 10, so they have to stand by themselves. Or, they could sit on the Pop-A-Shot machine to see if anyone talks to them. Their choice. See, there is an unspoken rule that you should never show up to things on time. Well, work is different, but optional activities that involve bars, drinks, or boys (or girls, if that's what you're into) don't fall into the same category as work. It's pretty safe to show up 20 minutes late and you'll still be one of the first people there. Show up any earlier, and you'll be standing alone in a bar, pretending like you're texting someone on your cell phone, silently wishing your friends to just show the f--- up already. When they do get there the person who has been there for 20 minutes already says "Oh no, it's fine, it's fine!" when the others apologize for their tardiness, but you and I know it's really not fine. They're just saying that hoping that their friends will buy them booze for their efforts. More likely then not, this doesn't happen, so the poor soul starts out the night with a badditude. See what I did there?
2.) The person who is wasted at 11:00 p.m.
As I was walking toward Paradise Park on Saturday night I witnessed a guy and a girl literally carrying another girl across Broadway. The guy had her upper body and the girl had her legs. Girl was semi-passed out. I looked at my watch (or rather, my cell phone since I do not own a watch) and it was barely 11 p.m. Now either she had been day drinking (which there was no Vanderbilt home game so I don't know why she would have been) or she was just a lightweight. But damn...didn't her friends try to slow her down at the bar? She wasn't dressed up light a bride or a birthday girl, and she wasn't that cute, so I doubt she was in the position to have free drinks given to her all night. Usually everyone has their drink threshold, where you know one more is going to put you over the edge and turn you into a hot mess of a person that cries at the drop of a hat and finds the sudden urge to tell people how much you love them. (Much like at Steeplechase when we sat around in a circle and told eachother what we liked about them. Aw, memories.) And most people actively try not to cross this threshold. Well, girlfriend Saturday night did not pay one bit of attention to that threshold, and as a result, anyone walking down Broadway at about 11:04 p.m. got to witness her being carted off to safety by her trusty friends. I wonder if any guy has ever seen a girl like that and been like, "THAT is my future ex-wife right there." Just curious.
3.) The person you should probably remember but you don't.
This has never happened to me because I don't make a habit of making out with random people at bars (unfortunately), but it's happened to friends of mine so it counts as personal experience. You catch someone's eye, you do the 'hold eye contact for 5 seconds and look away' thing, and he comes over to talk to you. Just when you think you might get a free drink or some action out of this conversation, he opens his mouth and says "Hi _____ (insert your name here)." You freeze, because you have no idea who this person is...or do you? Suddenly, he starts to look familiar. You start talking, hoping you're going to remember what his name is, as the details start to come back, albeit fuzzy. Oh yeah, he's the guy you made out with three weekends ago to up your self esteem since the boy you were interested in didn't call you! What was his name again? Dave? Dan? Devin? (It's Lloyd...or something equally as ridiculous). You chit chat for a few minutes, promise to come find him later (lie) and then actively try to avoid him for the rest of the night before sneaking out to another bar while his back is turned.
4.) Your new best friend.
So you're out celebrating a huge win for your sports team and you see someone else in the bar wearing your team colors. Instantly, you're bff and are talking about getting brunch together sometime. You have so much in common, you think her hair is super pretty, and you want her to be in your wedding someday. You introduce them to your group of friends, talk about how awesome she is, and you promise to get her number so you guys can go share $8 mimosas at Tavern sometime. Except...you forget about the person 15 minutes after they leave. Saturday night was the night of the Alabama/LSU game where 'Bama came from behind to score a touchdown (that's what she said?) with like a minute left to play. So there were lots of Alabama fans out that night. As soon as I walked into the bar people started yelling "Roll Tide!" to me. I guess because I was wearing red, so obviously I had to support Alabama, right? Actually, I could have cared less, but cheered for Alabama because M, fiance to the Favorite Redhead, is a diehard fan. People were toasting their pitchers of beer to the Crimson Tide and lots of meaningful friendships were made that night. Meaningful for 17 minutes, anyway.
5.) The Stalker guy.
Now this one can get a bit creepy. I was walking back to my car Saturday night and this guy started walking with me. He was pretty good looking, had on well fitting jeans, and was not homeless...my normal dating criteria. However, he was hammered (not my dating criteria) and I really don't think he had any idea what he was doing. I tried to speed up to walk away from him, but I'm only 5'2" and my legs only move so fast. Here's how our conversation went:
Him: Is your hair red?
Me: Kind of.
Him: I love redheads.
Me: Good for you.
Him: Even though I dated one in high school and she broke my heart when she cheated on me with my best friend.
Me: Tough story.
Him: Yeah, it was pretty painful. Hey, want to share a hot dog with me?
Me: I'm allergic to hot dogs.
Him: Oh. Okay. Want to share a cab?
Me: I'm sober. I'm driving home.
Him: Oh. Well, can I come home with you?
Me: Absolutely not.
At this point we are approaching the garage where I parked my car. The guy didn't give off a creepy vibe, but no girl likes to be cornered by a guy she doesn't know in a a parking garage. Instead of making a scene and yelling "Stranger danger!" or something, I quickly pointed to something across the street, forcing him to look away from me, and ran around the corner when he wasn't looking. My evasive tactics must have worked, because he didn't follow me. I really should get better about walking to my car alone at night.
Okay folks, that's all for installment 3. Maybe there will be a 4, who knows...it just all depends on who I meet out in Nashville on a Saturday night!
Thursday, November 1, 2012
30 Days of Thankfulness...In One Day
So, many of you know I have a problem committing to things...and people...but the second part is neither here nor there. Which, I don't really understand what 'neither here nor there' really means, but I'll use it anyway because using "nor" makes me sound really smart.
Every November on Facebook people start posting something they are thankful for everyday. I guess because November holds Thanksgiving, and therefore, you are to be super grateful in November, but not the other 11 months out of the year. Well, most people that know me know that Thanksgiving is my least favorite holiday. I don't like any of the food, it's not as exciting when you have a three person family, it holds really bad memories for me, and it just gives my mother an excuse to repeatedly ask me over four days, instead of the usual two, why I'm not dating anyone or why I have no interest in ever getting married. Most of our conversations go like this:
Mom: Well, have you met anyone new lately?
Me: Yeah, I met this guy at a bar last weekend.
Mom: Did you hang out with him?
Me: At the bar, yes.
Mom: Did you kiss him?
Me: That is none of your business.
Mom: Did anything else happen?
Me: Yes, mom it did. And I'm pregnant with his triplets. Surprise! Happy Thanksgiving! You're going to be a grandma!
Mom: Anna Charles! I can't believe you just said that to me!
Me: Well mom, when you ask stupid questions, you're going to get stupid answers.
Imagine four days of this. This, is my life.
But, don't get me wrong. I have many things in life to be thankful for. So, below are my 30 things I am thankful for. Because if I can't even commit to a brand of toothpaste I like, there is no way in hell I can post something I'm thankful for for 30 days.
1.) My friends. I have the most amazing friends I could ever imagine. They leave care packages on my door when people in my life are in the hospital, they form email groups to mock people's Facebook statuses, they listen without judgment, they make me laugh each and every day, and they're all really pretty. And handsome.
2.) My job. I'm one of the few people in their 20's that can honestly say I love my job. I've had three jobs in my life so far and two out of the three have been wonderful. I have great co-workers, a boss that I can joke around and talk sports with, and I learn a lot everyday.
3.) My hair. Okay, so this is really shallow, but I'm a big fan of my hair. I dye it all the time, but my hair stylist is amazing and she always makes it look good and healthy. When I really want to put in effort, I can make my hair look really, really good. I just wish I put in effort more often.
4.) UK basketball. It brings me joy, occassionally gives me heart palpitations, and brings me to tears of happiness. There is no better fanbase on this planet to be a part of. I love that almost everywhere you go, you can find a UK fan. If you're not a UK fan you should raise your standards...while we raise our banners. That sounds like it should go on a t-shirt.
5.) Bleu cheese. I'm a big, big fan. I frequently eat only bleu cheese crumbles for dinner, which probably isn't the best choice, but I never said I make the best choices.
6.) Dresses. They're pretty much all I wear. I'm not a fan of pants.
7.) Victoria's Secret. Putting on something of theirs can make you feel pretty on even your crummiest day.
8.) Helping people. Yes, even though it doesn't sound like it from many of my blog entries, I really do enjoy helping people. I've been very fortunate to have people in my life that have gone out of their way to help me, whether it be with my career or personal life. I'm always happy to pass along a resume, introduce people to others, or lend a hand with household cleaning chores. Just don't ask me to play Matchmaker. Because if there is a single, attractive, normal single male around, I call dibs.
9.) My grandfather. I talk a lot about Daddy Cliff on my blog, but I really was given the best grandfather a girl could ask for. Many girls are daddy's girls but I am not one of them. I am a grandaddy's girl though, through and through. Sometimes when I dream about him (on the rare occassions I sleep), I can still feel what his hugs feel like. I carry one of his hankerchiefs in my purse as a good luck charm and I miss him more and more everyday. When I drive by his assisted living center I still picture him sitting in the rocking chair on the porch waiting for me to come see him. This world will never know a better man.
10.) My mentors. Through my jobs I have had the immense pleasure to work with a variety of inspiring people. I'm sure these great people don't want to be mentioned in a blog that talks about going out on Saturday nights and is full of curse words, so I'll leave out their names. But, at age 27, I should not have nearly the amount of people in high places I can call on for advice that I do.
11.) My tv. I'm serious. It's big, I paid for it, and UK basketball looks glorious on it. When I went to the store to buy it I specifically said, "Show me the tv that UK basketball will look the best on." The poor salesguys were so confused, but I was serious. I even made them turn the channel to a basketball game so I could see what the court would look like on screen. That, my friends, is dedication to a sport.
12.) My cat. Okay, you all knew this was coming. I really like my cat. He fetches, he has an attitude, and he likes to look at himself in the mirror. Much like myself. Minus the fetching.
13.) My health. With as many sickly people I have in my life, I do not take my good health for granted.
14.) My home. Minus the damn geese. I've lived in my apartment for almost two years and I really like it. I have a nice view, plenty of room, and I finally have it decorated the way I want. Everything in it is mine and I'm very proud of that. Yay independent women (cue Destiny's Child music.)
15.) My books. I love to read and I have many shelves of leather bound books. Okay, well they are mostly paperbacks, but I still love them.
16.) Gmail email chains. Capturing my friend's humor, one line at a time.
17.) Gchat. How did I get through the day before I discovered this?
18.) Popsicles. Delicious, satisfying, and cold. Yum.
19.) Even numbers. Because I don't really like the odd ones. Except 13.
20.) Sports in general. Turn on sports and I'm usually a pretty happy girl. Unless it's golf. Then I'm a very bored girl.
21.) My family. Even though I mortify my mother on a daily basis, I know she and my dad* are there if I'm in a pinch. *Most of the time.
22.) Sunshine. I am a big fan of sunshine. And rainbows. And stars. Basically anything Lisa Frank put on a Trapper Keeper.
23.) My city. I love Nashville. Even though I may not end up staying here forever, I've built a great life and great memories here. And I'm sure I've forgotten some pretty great moments too.
24.) Parks. I love to go on walks and I love people watching, especially when they don't know you're watching. Wait, that sounds creepy. I mean, I like to watch people in their natural element. Watching little kids play, without a care in the world, watching the old couple hold hands while they walk around the park, watching the soccer dads yelling excitedly for their children on the sideline...that sort of thing. I do not like creepily stalking people. Hope I cleared that up.
25.) Lazy days. Every once in a while, you just need one. There have been many days that I have just laid around the apartment either reading or watching mindless tv and not thinking about the things that stress me out. I'm glad I have the kind of life where I let myself relax.
26.) The ability to read. It's so sad that some people can't read and it's sad that so many that can don't enjoy it.
27.) Animals. They just make the world a better place. Except for my apartment complex geese. They bring nothing to society.
28.) Airplanes. Because otherwise I would never see half of my friends because they live too damn far away and I refuse to be in a car for more than 3.5 hours.
29.) Beaches. Because they are beautiful.
30.) Coffee. No explanation needed.
I suppose I should have said God or Jesus but I doubt they want a shoutout on this blog either.
Till next time,
~SFR~
Every November on Facebook people start posting something they are thankful for everyday. I guess because November holds Thanksgiving, and therefore, you are to be super grateful in November, but not the other 11 months out of the year. Well, most people that know me know that Thanksgiving is my least favorite holiday. I don't like any of the food, it's not as exciting when you have a three person family, it holds really bad memories for me, and it just gives my mother an excuse to repeatedly ask me over four days, instead of the usual two, why I'm not dating anyone or why I have no interest in ever getting married. Most of our conversations go like this:
Mom: Well, have you met anyone new lately?
Me: Yeah, I met this guy at a bar last weekend.
Mom: Did you hang out with him?
Me: At the bar, yes.
Mom: Did you kiss him?
Me: That is none of your business.
Mom: Did anything else happen?
Me: Yes, mom it did. And I'm pregnant with his triplets. Surprise! Happy Thanksgiving! You're going to be a grandma!
Mom: Anna Charles! I can't believe you just said that to me!
Me: Well mom, when you ask stupid questions, you're going to get stupid answers.
Imagine four days of this. This, is my life.
But, don't get me wrong. I have many things in life to be thankful for. So, below are my 30 things I am thankful for. Because if I can't even commit to a brand of toothpaste I like, there is no way in hell I can post something I'm thankful for for 30 days.
1.) My friends. I have the most amazing friends I could ever imagine. They leave care packages on my door when people in my life are in the hospital, they form email groups to mock people's Facebook statuses, they listen without judgment, they make me laugh each and every day, and they're all really pretty. And handsome.
2.) My job. I'm one of the few people in their 20's that can honestly say I love my job. I've had three jobs in my life so far and two out of the three have been wonderful. I have great co-workers, a boss that I can joke around and talk sports with, and I learn a lot everyday.
3.) My hair. Okay, so this is really shallow, but I'm a big fan of my hair. I dye it all the time, but my hair stylist is amazing and she always makes it look good and healthy. When I really want to put in effort, I can make my hair look really, really good. I just wish I put in effort more often.
4.) UK basketball. It brings me joy, occassionally gives me heart palpitations, and brings me to tears of happiness. There is no better fanbase on this planet to be a part of. I love that almost everywhere you go, you can find a UK fan. If you're not a UK fan you should raise your standards...while we raise our banners. That sounds like it should go on a t-shirt.
5.) Bleu cheese. I'm a big, big fan. I frequently eat only bleu cheese crumbles for dinner, which probably isn't the best choice, but I never said I make the best choices.
6.) Dresses. They're pretty much all I wear. I'm not a fan of pants.
7.) Victoria's Secret. Putting on something of theirs can make you feel pretty on even your crummiest day.
8.) Helping people. Yes, even though it doesn't sound like it from many of my blog entries, I really do enjoy helping people. I've been very fortunate to have people in my life that have gone out of their way to help me, whether it be with my career or personal life. I'm always happy to pass along a resume, introduce people to others, or lend a hand with household cleaning chores. Just don't ask me to play Matchmaker. Because if there is a single, attractive, normal single male around, I call dibs.
9.) My grandfather. I talk a lot about Daddy Cliff on my blog, but I really was given the best grandfather a girl could ask for. Many girls are daddy's girls but I am not one of them. I am a grandaddy's girl though, through and through. Sometimes when I dream about him (on the rare occassions I sleep), I can still feel what his hugs feel like. I carry one of his hankerchiefs in my purse as a good luck charm and I miss him more and more everyday. When I drive by his assisted living center I still picture him sitting in the rocking chair on the porch waiting for me to come see him. This world will never know a better man.
10.) My mentors. Through my jobs I have had the immense pleasure to work with a variety of inspiring people. I'm sure these great people don't want to be mentioned in a blog that talks about going out on Saturday nights and is full of curse words, so I'll leave out their names. But, at age 27, I should not have nearly the amount of people in high places I can call on for advice that I do.
11.) My tv. I'm serious. It's big, I paid for it, and UK basketball looks glorious on it. When I went to the store to buy it I specifically said, "Show me the tv that UK basketball will look the best on." The poor salesguys were so confused, but I was serious. I even made them turn the channel to a basketball game so I could see what the court would look like on screen. That, my friends, is dedication to a sport.
12.) My cat. Okay, you all knew this was coming. I really like my cat. He fetches, he has an attitude, and he likes to look at himself in the mirror. Much like myself. Minus the fetching.
13.) My health. With as many sickly people I have in my life, I do not take my good health for granted.
14.) My home. Minus the damn geese. I've lived in my apartment for almost two years and I really like it. I have a nice view, plenty of room, and I finally have it decorated the way I want. Everything in it is mine and I'm very proud of that. Yay independent women (cue Destiny's Child music.)
15.) My books. I love to read and I have many shelves of leather bound books. Okay, well they are mostly paperbacks, but I still love them.
16.) Gmail email chains. Capturing my friend's humor, one line at a time.
17.) Gchat. How did I get through the day before I discovered this?
18.) Popsicles. Delicious, satisfying, and cold. Yum.
19.) Even numbers. Because I don't really like the odd ones. Except 13.
20.) Sports in general. Turn on sports and I'm usually a pretty happy girl. Unless it's golf. Then I'm a very bored girl.
21.) My family. Even though I mortify my mother on a daily basis, I know she and my dad* are there if I'm in a pinch. *Most of the time.
22.) Sunshine. I am a big fan of sunshine. And rainbows. And stars. Basically anything Lisa Frank put on a Trapper Keeper.
23.) My city. I love Nashville. Even though I may not end up staying here forever, I've built a great life and great memories here. And I'm sure I've forgotten some pretty great moments too.
24.) Parks. I love to go on walks and I love people watching, especially when they don't know you're watching. Wait, that sounds creepy. I mean, I like to watch people in their natural element. Watching little kids play, without a care in the world, watching the old couple hold hands while they walk around the park, watching the soccer dads yelling excitedly for their children on the sideline...that sort of thing. I do not like creepily stalking people. Hope I cleared that up.
25.) Lazy days. Every once in a while, you just need one. There have been many days that I have just laid around the apartment either reading or watching mindless tv and not thinking about the things that stress me out. I'm glad I have the kind of life where I let myself relax.
26.) The ability to read. It's so sad that some people can't read and it's sad that so many that can don't enjoy it.
27.) Animals. They just make the world a better place. Except for my apartment complex geese. They bring nothing to society.
28.) Airplanes. Because otherwise I would never see half of my friends because they live too damn far away and I refuse to be in a car for more than 3.5 hours.
29.) Beaches. Because they are beautiful.
30.) Coffee. No explanation needed.
I suppose I should have said God or Jesus but I doubt they want a shoutout on this blog either.
Till next time,
~SFR~
Monday, October 29, 2012
Quotes From Last Weekend
Obviously I am not creative enough to come up with my own blog ideas, so I take things from popular culture and tweak them, and call them my own. Today's segment will be titled 'Quotes from Last Weekend', based on the popular Texts From Last Night. This weekend was a whirlwind of activity and I'm sure I haven't remembered half of the funny things that were said. Also, there were more funny things that even I, normally a pretty open book, refuse to put out on the interwebs. So, without further anticipation, here is QFLW.
"This tastes like Bonnaroo."
Oy. So Friday night five of us girls decided to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I'd seen bits and pieces of it on VH1 and knew it had a cult following, but didn't know how dedicated people were to this movie. We dressed up in our classiest (re: sluttiest) outfits (let's just say my boobs were cold and ripped fishnets were involved) and headed to Jacksons for a little pregaming. Because honestly? I feel like everyone needs a little liquid courage before going to TRHPS. We ordered a round of drinks and decided to take a shot at 11:25 before we headed over to the Belcourt. Our waitress said she had just the thing and brought out this green shot called chartreuse. It kind of looked like the slime guy from Ghost Busters. We all took the shot and here's what our faces looked like:
Here were our verbal reactions:
"This is awful."
"It tastes like Pine-Sol."
"Will I pass a drug test?"
"This tastes like Bonnaroo."
That last reaction was mine, because it seriously did taste like what I expect Bonnaroo would taste like, if it had a taste: liquid weed, dirt, grass, bad smells, and even worse decisions. Thank God there is no such real flavor. How would you like to get a Bonnaroo flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean? Shudder. Anyway, chartreuse does not play. It has like 130 herbal components and the effects are instantaneous. We were all sitting there like WTF did we just do. However, we quickly composed ourselves and headed over to the Belcourt to get our seats. TRHPS is a trip, and I recommend going at least once. Of course, you have to have a red V put on your cheek or chest to signify you are a TRHPS virgin and do other humiliating things, but just toss back a shot of chartreuse and you won't care that much. Oh, the shot is $10, fyi. Yet another thing the waitress forgot to mention to us, other than that stuff will mess with you.
"Did you just get hit by an acorn?"
I stopped by our tailgate for a little bit on Saturday and was there to witness my poor friend C get hit in the forehead by a giant acorn. Here's how that went:
"Oh my God, you got hit by an acorn. It's okay, it's okay, you won't even have a bruise. Oh, wait, the skin is kind of puffing up. Oh, but you can cover that with makeup, you aren't bleeding or anything. Oh wait, did it? Oh, yep...it broke the skin. You're bleeding. Does anyone have a napkin?!" Obviously it was a huge ordeal and obviously we were all laughing (C included) because it was so ridiculous. But, apparently acorns are one of the symbols for Vandy (I have no clue...I'm not rich enough to go there) so we all said she had been blessed by the Vanderbilt Gods since it was Homecoming. What that means, we have no idea? But we felt like it might help slow the bleeding.
"Yes, I went as a big, blue hairy teat for Halloween."
Sunday was kind of the jackpot day for quotes because a.) it was five girls in close quarters with one another for hours and b.) it was yesterday so I can remember them better. We decided to go on a Fall Day outing...but it actually only lasted an hour. But we still had a great time. On the way to the pumpkin patch everyone was sharing their stories from the night before because we had all been split up. J has gone as Cookie Monster for a few years and chose to do that again this year. Apparently some guy was saying her Cookie Monster eyes looked like boobs and she wanted to retort, "Yes, I went as a big, blue hairy teat for Halloween" but didn't think of that until she was in the car with us. That got the exploding laugh from everyone in the car and we couldn't stop. Just five girls, a really nice car, and our humor to keep us going on the long trip to Franklin.
"That looks good."
J and M were driver and shotgun with M doing the navigation. We see a sign for the pumpkin patch we are travelling to and J asks M if that's it. I'm not even sure if M looked up from her phone, but she said, "That looks good." Well, turns out it wasn't good because it was just a sign saying the p-patch was up ahead. Deceiving pumpkins. After our long stay at the pumpkin patch (20 minutes....complete with J putting pumpkins up to her chest and me raiding the pumpkins in the display area because obviously they are the nicest looking ones) we decided in order to have an authentic Fall Day we needed apple cider, so we decided to head to this quaint little coffee shop no one knows about. Perhaps if you're an insider you're aware of it: Starbucks. We get to Starbucks and they are out. of. apple. juice. Despondent to discover we will not be having hot apple cider, M makes the genius discovery that they are selling juice boxes of apple juice in the pastry counter, so we decide to buy the juice boxes to supply apple juice for our cider. Pretty genius, if you ask me. And suuuuper tasty.
"Pie is too aggressive. Bring the whipped cream."
So back to J's we went for chili, salad, and cornbread and a dessert our other friend was bringing. We watched some football and then put in Magic Mike. Some guy told me that was actually a really good movie about important social issus. I didn't see that, but I did enjoy Channing Tatum's hip thrusts and abs. I'm not going to go into the details of this quote, but it can't be too hard to figure out what we were discussing while we were watching very attractive men take their shirts off.
I'm sure I've left out a lot but I can't remember any more at this moment in time. I'm lucky to have such funny people in my life that cheer and form email chains when good things happen and rally around you when bad things come your way. I will leave you with this quote of the week last week:
"It's like, just when you think someone is gone, they come back. I imagine this is what herpes is like."
"This tastes like Bonnaroo."
Oy. So Friday night five of us girls decided to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I'd seen bits and pieces of it on VH1 and knew it had a cult following, but didn't know how dedicated people were to this movie. We dressed up in our classiest (re: sluttiest) outfits (let's just say my boobs were cold and ripped fishnets were involved) and headed to Jacksons for a little pregaming. Because honestly? I feel like everyone needs a little liquid courage before going to TRHPS. We ordered a round of drinks and decided to take a shot at 11:25 before we headed over to the Belcourt. Our waitress said she had just the thing and brought out this green shot called chartreuse. It kind of looked like the slime guy from Ghost Busters. We all took the shot and here's what our faces looked like:
Here were our verbal reactions:
"This is awful."
"It tastes like Pine-Sol."
"Will I pass a drug test?"
"This tastes like Bonnaroo."
That last reaction was mine, because it seriously did taste like what I expect Bonnaroo would taste like, if it had a taste: liquid weed, dirt, grass, bad smells, and even worse decisions. Thank God there is no such real flavor. How would you like to get a Bonnaroo flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean? Shudder. Anyway, chartreuse does not play. It has like 130 herbal components and the effects are instantaneous. We were all sitting there like WTF did we just do. However, we quickly composed ourselves and headed over to the Belcourt to get our seats. TRHPS is a trip, and I recommend going at least once. Of course, you have to have a red V put on your cheek or chest to signify you are a TRHPS virgin and do other humiliating things, but just toss back a shot of chartreuse and you won't care that much. Oh, the shot is $10, fyi. Yet another thing the waitress forgot to mention to us, other than that stuff will mess with you.
"Did you just get hit by an acorn?"
I stopped by our tailgate for a little bit on Saturday and was there to witness my poor friend C get hit in the forehead by a giant acorn. Here's how that went:
"Oh my God, you got hit by an acorn. It's okay, it's okay, you won't even have a bruise. Oh, wait, the skin is kind of puffing up. Oh, but you can cover that with makeup, you aren't bleeding or anything. Oh wait, did it? Oh, yep...it broke the skin. You're bleeding. Does anyone have a napkin?!" Obviously it was a huge ordeal and obviously we were all laughing (C included) because it was so ridiculous. But, apparently acorns are one of the symbols for Vandy (I have no clue...I'm not rich enough to go there) so we all said she had been blessed by the Vanderbilt Gods since it was Homecoming. What that means, we have no idea? But we felt like it might help slow the bleeding.
"Yes, I went as a big, blue hairy teat for Halloween."
Sunday was kind of the jackpot day for quotes because a.) it was five girls in close quarters with one another for hours and b.) it was yesterday so I can remember them better. We decided to go on a Fall Day outing...but it actually only lasted an hour. But we still had a great time. On the way to the pumpkin patch everyone was sharing their stories from the night before because we had all been split up. J has gone as Cookie Monster for a few years and chose to do that again this year. Apparently some guy was saying her Cookie Monster eyes looked like boobs and she wanted to retort, "Yes, I went as a big, blue hairy teat for Halloween" but didn't think of that until she was in the car with us. That got the exploding laugh from everyone in the car and we couldn't stop. Just five girls, a really nice car, and our humor to keep us going on the long trip to Franklin.
"That looks good."
J and M were driver and shotgun with M doing the navigation. We see a sign for the pumpkin patch we are travelling to and J asks M if that's it. I'm not even sure if M looked up from her phone, but she said, "That looks good." Well, turns out it wasn't good because it was just a sign saying the p-patch was up ahead. Deceiving pumpkins. After our long stay at the pumpkin patch (20 minutes....complete with J putting pumpkins up to her chest and me raiding the pumpkins in the display area because obviously they are the nicest looking ones) we decided in order to have an authentic Fall Day we needed apple cider, so we decided to head to this quaint little coffee shop no one knows about. Perhaps if you're an insider you're aware of it: Starbucks. We get to Starbucks and they are out. of. apple. juice. Despondent to discover we will not be having hot apple cider, M makes the genius discovery that they are selling juice boxes of apple juice in the pastry counter, so we decide to buy the juice boxes to supply apple juice for our cider. Pretty genius, if you ask me. And suuuuper tasty.
"Pie is too aggressive. Bring the whipped cream."
So back to J's we went for chili, salad, and cornbread and a dessert our other friend was bringing. We watched some football and then put in Magic Mike. Some guy told me that was actually a really good movie about important social issus. I didn't see that, but I did enjoy Channing Tatum's hip thrusts and abs. I'm not going to go into the details of this quote, but it can't be too hard to figure out what we were discussing while we were watching very attractive men take their shirts off.
I'm sure I've left out a lot but I can't remember any more at this moment in time. I'm lucky to have such funny people in my life that cheer and form email chains when good things happen and rally around you when bad things come your way. I will leave you with this quote of the week last week:
"It's like, just when you think someone is gone, they come back. I imagine this is what herpes is like."
Friday, October 26, 2012
No Text November
So I have decided that instead of No Shave November (which
is gross and I have never participated in anyways), I am going to celebrate No
Text November. It’s a holiday (probably)
of my creation and I think it’s a pretty good idea. You wouldn’t know it by the amount I do it,
but I loathe texting. Well, let me
clarify: I loathe texting
conversations. If you have a funny story
that can be said in 140 letters or less, sure, text it to me. If you are on a really bad date and need an
exit strategy, then by all means, text me.
I just feel like if you want to have an actual conversation with someone,
you should exercise the other main function your phone has and actually call a
person. See those numbers on the letter
buttons? They are there for a reason.
I’m a big fan of talking on the phone, probably because many
of my closest friends are scattered around the US in Boston, Chicago, Denver,
Louisville, and maybe Minneapolis and Atlanta soon. The best way to keep in touch is over the
phone. Sure, S in Denver will send me
texts when she sees teenagers basically getting to home plate on the lightening
rail. And sure, L in Chicago will send
me texts when something amazing happens on any of the Real Housewives
franchises. But for the most part, when
we want to actually talk, we call eachother.
I told my friend C here in Nashville that one of my favorite things
about her is that she’ll actually pick up the phone and call me when she has
something to talk about.
I’m also a big fan of talking in person. It’s so hard to interpret text messages
sometimes because you don’t know the tone the other person is taking. I like to tease people, but sometimes my
playful sarcasm doesn’t translate well over text and I look like a bitch. Which, I am one, but I look like an even
bigger one when I text. So, instead of
trying to decipher what someone really means when they are talking about
something, go grab coffee. Or go for a walk. Or come over.
Excuse the cat hair on the couch in advance.
Texting is also distracting.
I have trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time, much less
trying to multi-task by watching American Horror Story and carrying on a text
conversation. Just the other night I was
texting with a friend while watching the newest episode and almost screamed
when I looked back up at the tv screen from my phone and saw the scary exorcism
kid. If I had been paying attention to
the show I wouldn’t have been frightened.
Plus, so much shit goes on in every episode I had to watch it again
yesterday because I missed so much while I was texting. Not texting all the time is going to save me
a ton of time.
So, while I am taking my texting hiatus, please see the
below methods in which you can get ahold of me:
Phone
Already been explained.
Email
Much bigger than a phone screen so you can fit in more
detail. Everybody wins!
Gchat
I cannot remember life before gchat.
Facebook Post or Message
I should probably cut this off too if I really think about
it, but you all know how much I post on Facebook. This would be almost impossible.
Mail
Okay, this is probably one you are not going to want to use
because I never check it.
Owl
I wish.
Am I saying I’m not going to text at all in November? No. If
I say something funny and want to share it, I’m going to text. If someone asks me a question, I’m not going
to ignore them. But I am going to make a
conscious effort that when I communicate with people, I’m going to pick up the
phone and call them.
Reach out and touch someone, as they say.
As long as they are legal, consenting adults, that is.
Cheers, and Happy Friday!
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