As the little girl I was babysitting last night so sweetly pointed out, "whoa, you're getting old!", I figured I should perhaps make a bucket list of things I want to do before I die. My friend who turned 30 this year had a list of 30 things he wanted to do before he turned 30, but I'm not that ambitious. I'll settle for 30 things I want to do before I go to the pearly gates in the sky, where every angel looks like Ryan Gosling and there are unlimited salt & vinegar potato chips.
1. Drink a glass of milk in Scotland. My grandfather said he drank the best glass of milk of his life when he was there during the war and I want to do the same thing to honor him.
2. Stomp grapes at a winery.
3. Go scuba diving...even though I'm terrified of having to breathe out of my mouth.
4. Go on a safari.
5. Throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain.
6. Pay for someone's meal at a restaurant without them knowing.
7. Own a West Highland White Terrier.
8. Get married. At least once.
9. See UK play in the National Championship game in person.
10. Go to Harry Potter World.
11. Visit the home in Sicily where my grandmother grew up.
12. Visit Mount Rushmore.
13. Go hang-gliding.
14. Hold a baby right after it's been born.
15. Help an old lady across the street.
16. Sit courtside at a pro basketball game.
17. Own a vacation home.
18. Be able to put my kids through college.
19. Donate money each year to the ASPCA and the humane shelter wherever I live.
20. Get a tattoo.
21. Close my eyes, point to a map, and visit wherever my finger is pointing to, no matter where it is.
22. Get my picture taken with John Calipari.
23. Own UK basketball season tickets.
24. Finish the two books I've written.
25. Meet the President of the United States.
26. Give money to the Belmont...preferably enough so they build a new library.
27. Learn a second language.
28. Dance with someone I love in the rain.
29. Grow my own vegetables in my garden.
30. Make Tina Fey laugh.
Some are silly, some are fun, and some are downright insane (as if I could ever make Tina Fey laugh)...but it's my bucket list and I can put anything on there I darn well want.
Till next time...
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Monday, July 23, 2012
The Food Network
Who doesn't enjoy a good tv show about food?
Well, most of the time, I don't. I like 'Chopped' and 'Next Food Network Star' because actual challenges are involved and I like to see people use their creativity to make a five star meal out of frozen peas, dark chocolate, sparkling cider and beef jerky. I always become overconfident that I could totally make something amazing out of crap too, but let's be honest...I most likely can't.
Although I love any sort of reality tv show competition (except for Survivor, the Bachelor/ette, American Idiot (typo and it stays), The Voice...okay, so there are actually a lot of reality shows I don't like), I can't stand the everyday cooking shows where the overly perky hosts cook a meal and tell us how good it is through our tv screens.
Um, am I really supposed to take your word for it that the vegetable lasagna you just made tastes like a little bit of heaven in your mouth? Am I really supposed to believe the cayenne pepper and cumin mixture is tantalizing your tastebuds as you over-exaggerate "Mmmm!" for the tv camera? Well, sorry Giada, Bobby, Paula, Barefoot Contessa, Sunny, Emeril, Alton, and many others, I don't really believe you because I can't taste it. Well, I will say I believe Paula Deen or the Barefoot Contessa over Giada...do you actually think she eats what she cooks? As soon as the camera turns off she probably sprints 10 laps around the studio and does an hour of Zumba to burn it off. What's that saying, 'never trust a skinny cook?' I think those are wise words to live by.
During this season of watching 'The Next Food Network Star' I often fantasized about becomming a star myself. I could be The Redheaded Italian. Of course, I'd be contractually obligated to keep my hair red for a set amount of time, but it's almost been a year since I dyed it and I still like it, so I could probably deal. Or I could be the Kim Zolciak of the Food Network and wear wigs every week. For Mexican themed cuisine I could have long, luscious Sophia Vergara hair. That's a thought...
But really, the more I watched NFNS, the more I realized why would I want to be on this channel? 90% of the chefs are incredibly annoying and have weird habits. Take our friend Giada for example. She'll be talking along, deeply engrossed in her speech, and then all of a sudden she develops a strong, sort of nasally Italian accent any time she says an ingredient used in Italian cooking. Mozzarella becomes MOzzaRElla. Ricotta becomes RiCOATa. Um, overly emphasizing different syllables doesn't really make me think of you as more ITALian.
The Barefoot Contessa makes me feel like I am not classy enough to watch her show. I feel like she's staring at me with disapproval as she picks ripe tomatoes from her garden for her gazpacho. Because, God forbid she could go to Whole Foods like everyone else. Her food is pretty decent, but she reminds me of what I always pictured Delores Umbridge in the 'Harry Potter' books to act like: condescending, simpering, and has bad fashion sense.
Rachel Ray also gets on my nerves. Um, yeah, I could make anything in 30 minutes too girl if I had minions that would carefully lay out pre-measured bowls of all of my ingredients on the table in front of me. I could probably even make all of your recipes in 29 minutes if I was feeling bold.
I feel bad that I've only picked on the girls, but I don't watch the guys that much. Bobby Flay is a master of grilling, but I don't have a grill, so why would I want to watch him? Alton Brown is an entertaining host, but I can't say that I've ever really watched him cook. Emeril, I think, is losing some of his appeal since the word "BAM!" is no longer viewed as creative in the culinary kitchen. Robert Irvine, well, I have nothing bad to say about that dude because he is ripped and tall and very scary to me. Aaron Sanchez and the Man vs. Food guy just seem to get paid to eat...a gig that doesn't sound that bad to me. But I rarely see them cooking, so I can't judge them either. I think the guys have the right idea: they get paid to eat and the women get paid to cook. I'm sure there is a feminist tangent I could go off on right about now, but I'm kind of tired and don't want to use up more of my brain cells than I have to on a Monday.
Q: What's your favorite food?
A: Blue cheese anything. Blue cheese coleslaw, blue cheese puffs, buffalo tofu with blue cheese...yum!
Q: What is your least favorite food?
A: Eggplant. I'm trying to train myself to like it.
Q: What did you have for lunch today?
A: Leftover fettucine alfredo. Or, as Giada would say, FEttuCINi alFREdo
Well, most of the time, I don't. I like 'Chopped' and 'Next Food Network Star' because actual challenges are involved and I like to see people use their creativity to make a five star meal out of frozen peas, dark chocolate, sparkling cider and beef jerky. I always become overconfident that I could totally make something amazing out of crap too, but let's be honest...I most likely can't.
Although I love any sort of reality tv show competition (except for Survivor, the Bachelor/ette, American Idiot (typo and it stays), The Voice...okay, so there are actually a lot of reality shows I don't like), I can't stand the everyday cooking shows where the overly perky hosts cook a meal and tell us how good it is through our tv screens.
Um, am I really supposed to take your word for it that the vegetable lasagna you just made tastes like a little bit of heaven in your mouth? Am I really supposed to believe the cayenne pepper and cumin mixture is tantalizing your tastebuds as you over-exaggerate "Mmmm!" for the tv camera? Well, sorry Giada, Bobby, Paula, Barefoot Contessa, Sunny, Emeril, Alton, and many others, I don't really believe you because I can't taste it. Well, I will say I believe Paula Deen or the Barefoot Contessa over Giada...do you actually think she eats what she cooks? As soon as the camera turns off she probably sprints 10 laps around the studio and does an hour of Zumba to burn it off. What's that saying, 'never trust a skinny cook?' I think those are wise words to live by.
During this season of watching 'The Next Food Network Star' I often fantasized about becomming a star myself. I could be The Redheaded Italian. Of course, I'd be contractually obligated to keep my hair red for a set amount of time, but it's almost been a year since I dyed it and I still like it, so I could probably deal. Or I could be the Kim Zolciak of the Food Network and wear wigs every week. For Mexican themed cuisine I could have long, luscious Sophia Vergara hair. That's a thought...
But really, the more I watched NFNS, the more I realized why would I want to be on this channel? 90% of the chefs are incredibly annoying and have weird habits. Take our friend Giada for example. She'll be talking along, deeply engrossed in her speech, and then all of a sudden she develops a strong, sort of nasally Italian accent any time she says an ingredient used in Italian cooking. Mozzarella becomes MOzzaRElla. Ricotta becomes RiCOATa. Um, overly emphasizing different syllables doesn't really make me think of you as more ITALian.
The Barefoot Contessa makes me feel like I am not classy enough to watch her show. I feel like she's staring at me with disapproval as she picks ripe tomatoes from her garden for her gazpacho. Because, God forbid she could go to Whole Foods like everyone else. Her food is pretty decent, but she reminds me of what I always pictured Delores Umbridge in the 'Harry Potter' books to act like: condescending, simpering, and has bad fashion sense.
Rachel Ray also gets on my nerves. Um, yeah, I could make anything in 30 minutes too girl if I had minions that would carefully lay out pre-measured bowls of all of my ingredients on the table in front of me. I could probably even make all of your recipes in 29 minutes if I was feeling bold.
I feel bad that I've only picked on the girls, but I don't watch the guys that much. Bobby Flay is a master of grilling, but I don't have a grill, so why would I want to watch him? Alton Brown is an entertaining host, but I can't say that I've ever really watched him cook. Emeril, I think, is losing some of his appeal since the word "BAM!" is no longer viewed as creative in the culinary kitchen. Robert Irvine, well, I have nothing bad to say about that dude because he is ripped and tall and very scary to me. Aaron Sanchez and the Man vs. Food guy just seem to get paid to eat...a gig that doesn't sound that bad to me. But I rarely see them cooking, so I can't judge them either. I think the guys have the right idea: they get paid to eat and the women get paid to cook. I'm sure there is a feminist tangent I could go off on right about now, but I'm kind of tired and don't want to use up more of my brain cells than I have to on a Monday.
Q: What's your favorite food?
A: Blue cheese anything. Blue cheese coleslaw, blue cheese puffs, buffalo tofu with blue cheese...yum!
Q: What is your least favorite food?
A: Eggplant. I'm trying to train myself to like it.
Q: What did you have for lunch today?
A: Leftover fettucine alfredo. Or, as Giada would say, FEttuCINi alFREdo
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Etiquette Wednesday
I've decided to start doing Etiquette Wednesday. Because I'm so good at manners. Right. I'm no Countess Luann, but I do know how to behave myself...most of the time. I at least know how to properly act in social situations, even if I don't always choose that option. But, there are some situations in which etiquette is mandatory, such as today's topic: Community Bathroom Etiquette. I do find there is a difference between "community bathroom" and "public bathroom". A community bathroom is one you share with people you see everyday, i.e., your housemates or coworkers. A public bathroom is one you share with everyone...and I mean, EVERYONE. Ew.
I work in an office building with a shit-ton of people. Yes, "shit-ton" is a mathematical figure. It means anywhere between 1 and 9,997. Each floor has its own male and female bathrooms that we all share and are responsible for not trashing. This seems to be a very simple concept. Yet, for some, the task of correctly using a public restroom is dauting and often, unattainable. Listed below are a few do's and don'ts that will help you navigate the oh-so-tricky community restroom quandry.
DO always flush. This seems very simple, but when my workplace has to post signs on each stall that say "Please flush after you're done!", that tells me enough people didn't get the proverbial flushing memo so maintenance had to actually MAKE a flushing memo. There should not be memos for that. Ever.
DON'T talk on your cell phone while using the community bathroom. Girl, look. I know you need to talk to your sister/aunt/friend/cousin/boyfriend/manicurist/dealer/psychic, but please do not do so while you are using the facilities. I hate when I'm minding my own business and all of a sudden a one sided conversation begins to take place on either side of me, with the volume set at 8. I don't want to hear about your life. If I do, I'll ask, and even then I'll probably only ask half-heartedly or because I feel like I have to. If you need a private place to talk, the bathroom is not the best option. Try the stairwell. We work on the 12th Floor. No one takes the stairs that far.
DO always wash your hands. Again, this is something that should be a no-brainer, but it's amazing how many times I see someone go straight from the stall to the door and leave. Maybe they have hand sanitizer at their desk. Maaaaybe. But what if you encounter someone on your way to your desk? Ew. Just ew. It's especially awkward when someone is talking to me while I wash my hands, and they are just standing there watching me. It's times like these I want to say "Monkey see, monkey do", talk about how good it feels to wash my hands, or offer them soap from my dispenser.
DON'T try to have long conversations with people in the bathroom. The purpose of a bathroom is to get in and out. No one wants to hang out there. You want to talk to me? Buy me Starbucks. You need advice? Let's grab lunch. The typical bathroom conversation should consist of hi, bye, and the occasional generic talk about the weather. Everyone should understand that if I say, "Hey, how are you?" to someone in the bathroom, I don't expect to really hear how you're doing. That is not a cue for you to talk about your physical therapy, how your kid got stung by a bee (although I do sympathize...it happened to me last week.), or how upset you are that your cubicle got moved 5 inches to the right.
I feel like I sound very grumpy in this entry and I'm really not. I just can't get over the flushing memo and feel like if people were more educated, memos like that would not be needed. Feel free to pass this along to anyone who you think would benefit from these do's and don'ts. Happy hand washing y'all!
Q: What is your favorite kind of soap?
A: Anything with cucumber in it. Currently at home I'm using cucumber melon...the Kroger variety, not the expensive kind.
Q: What color is your shower curtain?
A: White with blue polka-squares. (Like polka dots, but in square shape.)
Q: When do you shower?
A: In the morning....or after work...or at night...I shower like 3 times a day.
I work in an office building with a shit-ton of people. Yes, "shit-ton" is a mathematical figure. It means anywhere between 1 and 9,997. Each floor has its own male and female bathrooms that we all share and are responsible for not trashing. This seems to be a very simple concept. Yet, for some, the task of correctly using a public restroom is dauting and often, unattainable. Listed below are a few do's and don'ts that will help you navigate the oh-so-tricky community restroom quandry.
DO always flush. This seems very simple, but when my workplace has to post signs on each stall that say "Please flush after you're done!", that tells me enough people didn't get the proverbial flushing memo so maintenance had to actually MAKE a flushing memo. There should not be memos for that. Ever.
DON'T talk on your cell phone while using the community bathroom. Girl, look. I know you need to talk to your sister/aunt/friend/cousin/boyfriend/manicurist/dealer/psychic, but please do not do so while you are using the facilities. I hate when I'm minding my own business and all of a sudden a one sided conversation begins to take place on either side of me, with the volume set at 8. I don't want to hear about your life. If I do, I'll ask, and even then I'll probably only ask half-heartedly or because I feel like I have to. If you need a private place to talk, the bathroom is not the best option. Try the stairwell. We work on the 12th Floor. No one takes the stairs that far.
DO always wash your hands. Again, this is something that should be a no-brainer, but it's amazing how many times I see someone go straight from the stall to the door and leave. Maybe they have hand sanitizer at their desk. Maaaaybe. But what if you encounter someone on your way to your desk? Ew. Just ew. It's especially awkward when someone is talking to me while I wash my hands, and they are just standing there watching me. It's times like these I want to say "Monkey see, monkey do", talk about how good it feels to wash my hands, or offer them soap from my dispenser.
DON'T try to have long conversations with people in the bathroom. The purpose of a bathroom is to get in and out. No one wants to hang out there. You want to talk to me? Buy me Starbucks. You need advice? Let's grab lunch. The typical bathroom conversation should consist of hi, bye, and the occasional generic talk about the weather. Everyone should understand that if I say, "Hey, how are you?" to someone in the bathroom, I don't expect to really hear how you're doing. That is not a cue for you to talk about your physical therapy, how your kid got stung by a bee (although I do sympathize...it happened to me last week.), or how upset you are that your cubicle got moved 5 inches to the right.
I feel like I sound very grumpy in this entry and I'm really not. I just can't get over the flushing memo and feel like if people were more educated, memos like that would not be needed. Feel free to pass this along to anyone who you think would benefit from these do's and don'ts. Happy hand washing y'all!
Q: What is your favorite kind of soap?
A: Anything with cucumber in it. Currently at home I'm using cucumber melon...the Kroger variety, not the expensive kind.
Q: What color is your shower curtain?
A: White with blue polka-squares. (Like polka dots, but in square shape.)
Q: When do you shower?
A: In the morning....or after work...or at night...I shower like 3 times a day.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
#TeamNoSleep
UK fans will get the title of this post...or at least the cool ones will.
I've had issues with sleep all of my life. When I was a baby I never slept. I didn't nap, I didn't sleep through the night, and I never wanted to be in my crib. My mom said it was because I was so brilliant I didn't want to miss anything that was going on around me, but I think it's more likely that she just came up with that response to soothe her mind after listening to thousands of hours of a screaming, abnormally bald child. She tried everything people suggested. Driving me around in the car didn't work. I probably cracked a few windshields with my high-pitched shrieks. Setting my carrier on the dryer and letting the vibrations soothe me to sleep was a failure. Although that probably explains my extreme annoyance for driving on bumpy roads. Singing me to sleep only made me shriek louder. Eventually Susan gave up and just let me scream. There really wasn't much more she could do. Marco could sleep through a stampede of obese buffalo during an earthquake during the Rapture and was none the wiser.
During high school I experienced a brief period of being able to sleep. It was glorious. Every day after school I would take a nap. Then I would sleep through the night. Sometimes I'd even catch a nap during class. My hair was super long and I figured out if I leaned back against it I could hold my head up and steady. Pretend like I'm reading and BOOM! Naptime. Junior year I had this horribly boring class right after lunch. I can't remember what it was called, but Mrs. Dixby (Digsby?) taught it. We had to sit in alphabetical order by last name and I wasn't around any of my friends. I attempted to talk to the cool kids around me, but quickly ruined my chances of being accepted in the cool group after the following exchange took place:
Cool Girl: I drank an entire 6 pack of beer this weekend at a party!
Cool Guy: Wow, I bet you were wasted. Awesome!
Me: I don't think I could ever be that thirsty...
Cool Girl & Guy: (Eyeroll and mentally banish me eternally from their friend group.)
College was easier because I could nap between classes. I'm a better napper than I am sleeper. I could stay up until 4 a.m. (studying, obviously), head to my 8, 9 and 11 a.m. classes, come home and nap until 12:30, head to my internship/job from 1-6, nap, and then start the cycle all over again. College worked for me.
But since I have become a responsible adult and have an 8-5 job, sleep has been my mortal enemy. I've tried everything. I quit caffeine (the horror!), tried drinking warm milk before bed (ew), took the tv out of my bedroom (lame), didn't do anything mentally stimulating for an hour before bed (thank you, Bravo reality tv), and have tried every over the counter tea, drink, or medication that promised sleep. I finally broke down and went to the Vanderbilt sleep clinic a few years ago. After a few nights of tests and awkwardly wondering if the technicians could see if I had drooled in my sleep or not, I got my results. And of course, they were weird. God forbid I have a normal, easily fixable condition.
I am the proud owner (?) of a Circadium Rhythym Disorder. Basically most people's internal clocks are set on a 24 hour clock. They get tired at night, are refreshed in the morning, and don't have the desire to check out for the night at 1 p.m...unless a lunch buffet is involved. People with my special condition? Our bodies are set on a totally different clock, usually 26 or 27 hours. So, when I synch up with a normal 24 hour day, I'm golden. That's why for a few days a month I'm able to crash and make up for lost sleep...especially on the weekends. But, when my clock is off and I think "bedtime" is actually 10 a.m. on a Wednesday? That's where my problem comes in. The "treatment" is more of a "lifestyle change". People can minimize the effects of the disorder by living a very rigid lifestyle, i.e., waking up at the same time everyday, going to bed at the same time everyday, eating at the same time, working the same hours, etc. I say, eff that. But the actual word. Multiple times. I'm 27 years old. I have fun friends who come up with spontaneous and exciting things to do frequently, a wonderful job that requires me to sometimes work long hours, and a general dislike to be boring. Could I do everything I'm supposed to and increase my sleep? Sure I could. If I wanted to be a boring hermit. But I don't, so I don't follow my directions. Prescription sleeping pills work a little bit, but I hate the drowsy feeling I have with that type of medication. I'd rather be just normal tired instead of medicine-y tired...which is a clinical term, you know.
So if you see me and I have dark circles under my eyes (people wonder why I wear my glasses all the time...it helps hide the black-eye look!), my hair is in a ponytail, and I have on very little eye makeup, it's because I'm exhausted and my eyes are super dry and painful from not resting. I know I look like Wednesday Adams, minus the cute braids and dark hair. I know I look bad. No need to tell me, "Wow, Anna. You look tired/awful/sleepy/like you got in a fight with Death and lost." I know. But thanks for your observation.
So, I'll end this sad tale with some upbeat answers to some odd questions. And if you have any good book recommendations, let me know. If I have to be awake, I might as well be reading a good story!
Q: What is your favorite thing to wear to bed?
A: Well, besides my Little Mermaid of yesteryear, I like girl boxer shorts and a tee shirt.
Q: Did you sleep with a stuffed animal when you were little?
A: I still do, and I am 100% not ashamed of that fact. Deal with it. : )
Q: What is your favorite thing to dream about?
A: Obvious. Ryan Gosling.
I've had issues with sleep all of my life. When I was a baby I never slept. I didn't nap, I didn't sleep through the night, and I never wanted to be in my crib. My mom said it was because I was so brilliant I didn't want to miss anything that was going on around me, but I think it's more likely that she just came up with that response to soothe her mind after listening to thousands of hours of a screaming, abnormally bald child. She tried everything people suggested. Driving me around in the car didn't work. I probably cracked a few windshields with my high-pitched shrieks. Setting my carrier on the dryer and letting the vibrations soothe me to sleep was a failure. Although that probably explains my extreme annoyance for driving on bumpy roads. Singing me to sleep only made me shriek louder. Eventually Susan gave up and just let me scream. There really wasn't much more she could do. Marco could sleep through a stampede of obese buffalo during an earthquake during the Rapture and was none the wiser.
During high school I experienced a brief period of being able to sleep. It was glorious. Every day after school I would take a nap. Then I would sleep through the night. Sometimes I'd even catch a nap during class. My hair was super long and I figured out if I leaned back against it I could hold my head up and steady. Pretend like I'm reading and BOOM! Naptime. Junior year I had this horribly boring class right after lunch. I can't remember what it was called, but Mrs. Dixby (Digsby?) taught it. We had to sit in alphabetical order by last name and I wasn't around any of my friends. I attempted to talk to the cool kids around me, but quickly ruined my chances of being accepted in the cool group after the following exchange took place:
Cool Girl: I drank an entire 6 pack of beer this weekend at a party!
Cool Guy: Wow, I bet you were wasted. Awesome!
Me: I don't think I could ever be that thirsty...
Cool Girl & Guy: (Eyeroll and mentally banish me eternally from their friend group.)
College was easier because I could nap between classes. I'm a better napper than I am sleeper. I could stay up until 4 a.m. (studying, obviously), head to my 8, 9 and 11 a.m. classes, come home and nap until 12:30, head to my internship/job from 1-6, nap, and then start the cycle all over again. College worked for me.
But since I have become a responsible adult and have an 8-5 job, sleep has been my mortal enemy. I've tried everything. I quit caffeine (the horror!), tried drinking warm milk before bed (ew), took the tv out of my bedroom (lame), didn't do anything mentally stimulating for an hour before bed (thank you, Bravo reality tv), and have tried every over the counter tea, drink, or medication that promised sleep. I finally broke down and went to the Vanderbilt sleep clinic a few years ago. After a few nights of tests and awkwardly wondering if the technicians could see if I had drooled in my sleep or not, I got my results. And of course, they were weird. God forbid I have a normal, easily fixable condition.
I am the proud owner (?) of a Circadium Rhythym Disorder. Basically most people's internal clocks are set on a 24 hour clock. They get tired at night, are refreshed in the morning, and don't have the desire to check out for the night at 1 p.m...unless a lunch buffet is involved. People with my special condition? Our bodies are set on a totally different clock, usually 26 or 27 hours. So, when I synch up with a normal 24 hour day, I'm golden. That's why for a few days a month I'm able to crash and make up for lost sleep...especially on the weekends. But, when my clock is off and I think "bedtime" is actually 10 a.m. on a Wednesday? That's where my problem comes in. The "treatment" is more of a "lifestyle change". People can minimize the effects of the disorder by living a very rigid lifestyle, i.e., waking up at the same time everyday, going to bed at the same time everyday, eating at the same time, working the same hours, etc. I say, eff that. But the actual word. Multiple times. I'm 27 years old. I have fun friends who come up with spontaneous and exciting things to do frequently, a wonderful job that requires me to sometimes work long hours, and a general dislike to be boring. Could I do everything I'm supposed to and increase my sleep? Sure I could. If I wanted to be a boring hermit. But I don't, so I don't follow my directions. Prescription sleeping pills work a little bit, but I hate the drowsy feeling I have with that type of medication. I'd rather be just normal tired instead of medicine-y tired...which is a clinical term, you know.
So if you see me and I have dark circles under my eyes (people wonder why I wear my glasses all the time...it helps hide the black-eye look!), my hair is in a ponytail, and I have on very little eye makeup, it's because I'm exhausted and my eyes are super dry and painful from not resting. I know I look like Wednesday Adams, minus the cute braids and dark hair. I know I look bad. No need to tell me, "Wow, Anna. You look tired/awful/sleepy/like you got in a fight with Death and lost." I know. But thanks for your observation.
So, I'll end this sad tale with some upbeat answers to some odd questions. And if you have any good book recommendations, let me know. If I have to be awake, I might as well be reading a good story!
Q: What is your favorite thing to wear to bed?
A: Well, besides my Little Mermaid of yesteryear, I like girl boxer shorts and a tee shirt.
Q: Did you sleep with a stuffed animal when you were little?
A: I still do, and I am 100% not ashamed of that fact. Deal with it. : )
Q: What is your favorite thing to dream about?
A: Obvious. Ryan Gosling.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Anatomy of a Holiday
Well, it's that time of year again. The one that comes once a month (usually) and occasionally twice (hellooooo December!) That's right...it's holiday time! The time when the majority of people don't even really realize the significance behind the day they're celebrating, they just jump at the the chance to throw a party, eat some amazing food, and consume appropriately themed, festive beverages.
Some holidays are understood more than others. For example, tomorrow is the 4th of July and I think that underneath all of the denim and the 'Amurrica!' chants, for the most part, people have a pretty good idea why we celebrate. We celebrate the brave men who fought for our independence from England. We celebrate the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere...even though it actually happened in April of 1775. But who doesn't enjoy having their friend dress up in British garb and arrive to your destination late just so you can yell "The Redcoats are coming! The Redcoats are coming!" to fellow patrons? What? Just us? Oh, okay.
But let me call to your attention not so much a holiday, but an anniversary that occured yesterday, July 2nd: the 75th anniversary of the 24 hour guard around the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetary. You can read more about the Tomb here but basically it's a tribute monument to all of the soldiers who died fighting for our country that were never found or identified. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, no matter what the weather or temperature, the tomb is guarded by a small group of elite soldiers. In my reading I found that less than 20% of the guards who volunteer for training are accepted, and only a fraction of that actually get the post...wow! This is definitely a place I want to visit that is on my bucket list. I think the 'walking the mat' is so intereseting. The guard takes 21 steps (based on the 21 Gun Salute, one of the highest honors bestowed on a soldier) , with his gun on the shoulder facing away from the tomb. On the 21st step he/she faces the tomb for 21 seconds, and then repeats the sequence over and over, until their 1 or 2 hour shift is over. I love the reverence they give to the Tomb...as they should.
Other holidays, however, don't seem to have much more significance, other than to party. St. Patrick's Day, for example. I know the story behind the holiday, but do we really celebrate that in America? No, we're more concerned with avoiding being pinched by our peers...unless those peers happen to be Irish. Then, more than likely, they are wearing a 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish!' shirt and they get kissed instead of scolded. I suppose I should be more supportive of this holiday, since it's one of the few times redheads are celebrated. I guess it's because someone told me this year that with my red hair, and because I'm so short, I could be a leprechaun. Yeah, that took away some of the luster of St. Patrick's Day.
Onto Cinco de Mayo. Um, has anyone ever actually checked when Mexican Independence Day really is?...yeah, it's September 16th. And they call it 'Caso Bonito' or 'Dieciséis'. No Cinco or De Mayo anywhere in there. So everyone is drinking fishbowl margaritas and slamming back tequila shots on the wrong day. I am sure people wouldn't object if the real day became as popular as the fake one. And plus, that would add another holiday in September besides Labor Day! Why hasn't this happened yet?!?!
Other holidays that I have been to themed parties for are Flag Day, Labor Day, and Columbus Day. What? Are you telling me you've never had Nina Tonics, Pinta Coladas and Sangria Maria on Columbus Day in celebration of the Nina, Pinta & Santa Maria? Or is that just telling me my friends are more fun than yours...probably the latter.
So, fellow Americans, break out the cowboy boots, wave your plastic flags, and sing Toby Keith songs all day in celebration of the greatest country there ever was or ever will be (anyone else get that Game of Thrones reference? Anyone?) and celebrate responsibly.
Remember, you have to work on the 5th.
Q: What is your favorite holiday?
A: My birthday.
Q: What is your least favorite holiday?
A: Thanksgiving. I hate all of the food.
Q: What holiday should they invent?
A: I'm pretty sure Zach Morris's birthday should be at least a half day at work.
Some holidays are understood more than others. For example, tomorrow is the 4th of July and I think that underneath all of the denim and the 'Amurrica!' chants, for the most part, people have a pretty good idea why we celebrate. We celebrate the brave men who fought for our independence from England. We celebrate the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere...even though it actually happened in April of 1775. But who doesn't enjoy having their friend dress up in British garb and arrive to your destination late just so you can yell "The Redcoats are coming! The Redcoats are coming!" to fellow patrons? What? Just us? Oh, okay.
But let me call to your attention not so much a holiday, but an anniversary that occured yesterday, July 2nd: the 75th anniversary of the 24 hour guard around the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetary. You can read more about the Tomb here but basically it's a tribute monument to all of the soldiers who died fighting for our country that were never found or identified. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, no matter what the weather or temperature, the tomb is guarded by a small group of elite soldiers. In my reading I found that less than 20% of the guards who volunteer for training are accepted, and only a fraction of that actually get the post...wow! This is definitely a place I want to visit that is on my bucket list. I think the 'walking the mat' is so intereseting. The guard takes 21 steps (based on the 21 Gun Salute, one of the highest honors bestowed on a soldier) , with his gun on the shoulder facing away from the tomb. On the 21st step he/she faces the tomb for 21 seconds, and then repeats the sequence over and over, until their 1 or 2 hour shift is over. I love the reverence they give to the Tomb...as they should.
Other holidays, however, don't seem to have much more significance, other than to party. St. Patrick's Day, for example. I know the story behind the holiday, but do we really celebrate that in America? No, we're more concerned with avoiding being pinched by our peers...unless those peers happen to be Irish. Then, more than likely, they are wearing a 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish!' shirt and they get kissed instead of scolded. I suppose I should be more supportive of this holiday, since it's one of the few times redheads are celebrated. I guess it's because someone told me this year that with my red hair, and because I'm so short, I could be a leprechaun. Yeah, that took away some of the luster of St. Patrick's Day.
Onto Cinco de Mayo. Um, has anyone ever actually checked when Mexican Independence Day really is?...yeah, it's September 16th. And they call it 'Caso Bonito' or 'Dieciséis'. No Cinco or De Mayo anywhere in there. So everyone is drinking fishbowl margaritas and slamming back tequila shots on the wrong day. I am sure people wouldn't object if the real day became as popular as the fake one. And plus, that would add another holiday in September besides Labor Day! Why hasn't this happened yet?!?!
Other holidays that I have been to themed parties for are Flag Day, Labor Day, and Columbus Day. What? Are you telling me you've never had Nina Tonics, Pinta Coladas and Sangria Maria on Columbus Day in celebration of the Nina, Pinta & Santa Maria? Or is that just telling me my friends are more fun than yours...probably the latter.
So, fellow Americans, break out the cowboy boots, wave your plastic flags, and sing Toby Keith songs all day in celebration of the greatest country there ever was or ever will be (anyone else get that Game of Thrones reference? Anyone?) and celebrate responsibly.
Remember, you have to work on the 5th.
Q: What is your favorite holiday?
A: My birthday.
Q: What is your least favorite holiday?
A: Thanksgiving. I hate all of the food.
Q: What holiday should they invent?
A: I'm pretty sure Zach Morris's birthday should be at least a half day at work.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Car Crash Etiquette
So last Thursday I'm minding my own business and all traffic laws when a cute little puppy starts to make his way across Old Hickory Blvd. Being the animal lover, and decent person that I am, I slowed to a stop so the puppy could be on his way. The person behind me? Did not. BAM! Rear-ended.
We pull over to the side of the road and although I want to be mad, the man has children in the backseat. Plus, I am only rude to people that are rude to me, and although crashing into my 2012 model car wasn't the nicest thing ever, I tried to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.
Until he said he didn't have insurance. In the words of Ms. NeNe Leakes, "Boop!"
I called the non-emergency police (911 is only for life threatening emergencies, y'all) and we began to wait. I am also cradling the dog at this point because the poor thing is scared. I also call its owner and inform them I have the dog and they can come pick it up on the side of the road, right before you get onto I-40. I'm sure the person was very confused, but sure enough little Sally and her mom came and got Buttons and they lived happily ever after. Not sure if her name really was Sally, but Buttons was pleased nonetheless.
Now, back to non-insured guy. I have compiled a list of car crash etiquette tips below that he may find useful, in hindsight. If he isn't in jail. But that's a little bit further down into the story.
DO stop if you have hit someone. He scored well on this point.
DON'T rear-end someone when it is 101 degrees outside. Waiting on the side of the road for the police to come is never an enjoyable experience, but is even less enjoyable when you feel like you are melting.
DO apologize profusely. He gets a 5/10 on this one. While he did say he was sorry, I didn't feel like he was showing the remorse he should have. Of course, his car was in way worse shape than mine, so maybe he was just calculating repair costs in his head and having a silent freak-out.
DON'T ignore your two screaming children in the backseat. Seriously, you would think one of us was dying the kids were crying so much. They weren't injured, thankfully, but they were freaked out. And the dad wouldn't let them get out of the car or hug them or anything. I wanted to go talk to them to try and calm them down, but thought that might be a little awkward. Plus, I had spilled orange juice all over myself and was getting stickier by the second as it dried on my clothes and skin. If I had hugged the kids they probably would have been stuck to me, and I didn't have that kind of time.
And the number one DON'T is DON'T rear end someone if you have an outstanding warrant hovering over your head! Yes, the guy had to call someone to come get his kids so the police wouldn't have to handcuff him in front of his children. Talk about having a bad day.
The rest of the morning was spent getting a rental car, dealing with insurance, and going home to wash off the orange juice before finally getting to work around 11:00 a.m. Not the most fun four hour ordeal. It could have definitely been worse. Thank goodness no one was hurt...I was pretty sore for a couple of days and spent a lot of time soaking in the tub but that was the extent of my injuries.
I'm going to forego the question set for today because I slept for a grand total of 90 minutes last night and am trying to conserve my brain usage on an as-needed basis today. Hopefully the jumbo Dunkin Donuts drink I bought will get me to lunch at least.
Drive safe, buckle up, click it or ticket, and all that jazz...
We pull over to the side of the road and although I want to be mad, the man has children in the backseat. Plus, I am only rude to people that are rude to me, and although crashing into my 2012 model car wasn't the nicest thing ever, I tried to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.
Until he said he didn't have insurance. In the words of Ms. NeNe Leakes, "Boop!"
I called the non-emergency police (911 is only for life threatening emergencies, y'all) and we began to wait. I am also cradling the dog at this point because the poor thing is scared. I also call its owner and inform them I have the dog and they can come pick it up on the side of the road, right before you get onto I-40. I'm sure the person was very confused, but sure enough little Sally and her mom came and got Buttons and they lived happily ever after. Not sure if her name really was Sally, but Buttons was pleased nonetheless.
Now, back to non-insured guy. I have compiled a list of car crash etiquette tips below that he may find useful, in hindsight. If he isn't in jail. But that's a little bit further down into the story.
DO stop if you have hit someone. He scored well on this point.
DON'T rear-end someone when it is 101 degrees outside. Waiting on the side of the road for the police to come is never an enjoyable experience, but is even less enjoyable when you feel like you are melting.
DO apologize profusely. He gets a 5/10 on this one. While he did say he was sorry, I didn't feel like he was showing the remorse he should have. Of course, his car was in way worse shape than mine, so maybe he was just calculating repair costs in his head and having a silent freak-out.
DON'T ignore your two screaming children in the backseat. Seriously, you would think one of us was dying the kids were crying so much. They weren't injured, thankfully, but they were freaked out. And the dad wouldn't let them get out of the car or hug them or anything. I wanted to go talk to them to try and calm them down, but thought that might be a little awkward. Plus, I had spilled orange juice all over myself and was getting stickier by the second as it dried on my clothes and skin. If I had hugged the kids they probably would have been stuck to me, and I didn't have that kind of time.
And the number one DON'T is DON'T rear end someone if you have an outstanding warrant hovering over your head! Yes, the guy had to call someone to come get his kids so the police wouldn't have to handcuff him in front of his children. Talk about having a bad day.
The rest of the morning was spent getting a rental car, dealing with insurance, and going home to wash off the orange juice before finally getting to work around 11:00 a.m. Not the most fun four hour ordeal. It could have definitely been worse. Thank goodness no one was hurt...I was pretty sore for a couple of days and spent a lot of time soaking in the tub but that was the extent of my injuries.
I'm going to forego the question set for today because I slept for a grand total of 90 minutes last night and am trying to conserve my brain usage on an as-needed basis today. Hopefully the jumbo Dunkin Donuts drink I bought will get me to lunch at least.
Drive safe, buckle up, click it or ticket, and all that jazz...
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