Haphazard Chattering of a Conscious Mind

Steer

2012-02-06T19:13:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite songs is "Steer" by Missy Higgins. It's beautiful and very inspirational. When I hear it, I feel empowered and pure like nothing can stop me. I thought I'd share:

Feel it falling off like clothing
Taste it rolling on your tongue
See the lights above you glowing
Oh and breathe them deep into your lungs

It was always simple, not hidden hard
You've been pulling at the strings playing puppeteer for kings
And you've had enough

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer

So hold this feeling like a newborn
Of freedom surging through your veins
You have opened up a new door
So bring on the wind, fire and rain

It was always simple, not hidden hard
You've been played at a game called remembering your name
And you stuffed it up

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer

'Cos you've been listening for answers
But the city screams and all your dreams go unheard

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer
Year get out of the box and step into the clear
'Cos now you finally know you can steer

-Missy Higgins-

Only Asthma?

2012-02-03T17:25:00.000-06:00

For the past week and a half, I've had to halt my workouts, not because I'm lazy or just didn't want to do anything, but because I've been unable to breathe properly. I've felt as if I was suffocating. I'd inhale deeply and would still be unable to catch a breath. Working out only aggravated it and made it worse.

When my husband finally convinced me to go to the doctor, we went to a walk in clinic after hours where they took X-rays of my lungs and an EKG of my heart. You know what they found?!!! Nothing! The healthcare professional said my lungs and heart were just fine. The doctor contributed my shortness of breath to my already present asthma and allergies. I don't know if I completely believe that. I've been working out for how many years now and have never had a problem as severe as this before. They sent me home with a prescription for steroids, a Z-pack and an inhaler.

Today is day 6 of taking the steroids, Z-pack and inhaler. For the first time in about two weeks, I was able to really push myself in the gym instead of collapsing in a ball on the floor. I completed a 45 minute total body workout during the day, and after work, I was able to cycle for 45 minutes. I still had some difficulty breathing, but I didn't feel like I was suffocating and gasping for air.
I suppose the medicines are doing their job. Although, I am worried about when the medicine wears off. Will I still be OK? Or, will this come back and once again hinder my workouts? I'm headed to my actual PCP in about a week, not only for a check-up, but to get a second opinion about what's going on with my lungs.

Comic Con's Golden Ticket

2012-01-28T11:50:00.000-06:00

This year, Michael and I decided to try and get tickets to the world famous Comic Con in San Diego. Apparently it's a long, arduous process to get the tickets, or badges as they call them. First, you have to wait until the website decides to give out member ID numbers. Once you have a member ID number, which we do, you have to wait until badges go on sale. If you don't have a member ID number, you can't buy a badge. No one knows when the badges will go on sale, but when they do, they sell out fast! So, Michael and I are eagerly waiting on the edge of our seats to find out when badges to go on sale.

If we are indeed able to obtain badges I'm hoping to go all out and dress up. Apparently, the unwritten rule is that you're supposed to make your costume for Comic Con, - none of this store-bought costume crap. They want the real deal! But, before I even think about and making any of the costume pieces, or enlisting the help of someone, I need to make sure we have badges. Otherwise, I'll be left with one seriously cool, expensive, handmade, Halloween costume. Which would normally be fine and dandy, but if this outfit is going to be handmade, I want to be able to wear it more than once.

As soon as we have our 'golden ticket,' if you will, I'll, get into the specifics of my costume. But for now, wish us luck on snagging a coveted badge!

Kandee Johnson

2012-01-22T09:06:00.000-06:00

As you probably already know, I am in love with all things make-up and hair-product related, and other girlie wonders. I have a large Caboodle full of make-up and bins upon bins of hair and face products. I love to experiment with different make-up styles and colors, and I enjoy testing different hair products to create different looks.

So, you can imagine my sheer joy and giddiness when I found the Holy Grail of all things girlie website. Kandee Johnson is a make-up artist/style guru. I first found her on youtube.com demonstrating how to create the perfect smoky eye. I looked up a few more of her videos and I was captivated.

The end of her videos sites her blog "for more details." When I hastily opened another browser and typed in www.kandeej.com I found a beautiful, shiny, colorful, wonderful blog about make-up, products, girlie crafts and oh so much more! I was in heaven!

I've added her to my list of "Other Bloggers." I just HAD to share her and her awesomeness with my fellow readers. So, I hope you enjoy her tips and tricks as much as I have.

Chicken Soft Tacos

2012-01-16T18:25:00.000-06:00

Last blog I mentioned that I needed to share my Chicken Soft Taco recipe that I love! So, here you go:

1lb of Chicken Breast
2 Packages of Taco Seasoning
1 Can of Rotel
1 Can of Black Beans
1 Cup of Frozen Corn
Chicken Broth (About 32oz)

Put first five ingredients in crock pot and pour in enough chicken broth to cover everything. Cook on low, approximately 5 hours or until chicken is thoroughly cooked. Shred the chicken with two forks and return to pot. Serve with warm tortillas, cheese, guacamole, sour cream, etc...

Enjoy!

Go Easy on the Salt

2012-01-11T13:08:00.000-06:00

Recently, I've been having a love affair with my crockpot. I've been hunting down new recipes to experiment with, and enjoying pretty much all of them - my favorite being a chicken taco recipe that I'll have to share soon.

This last go-round, I decided to make a lentil soup, a cheap, easy, yummy comfort-food. I combined all the ingredients in the slow cooker and let the soup simmer all day.

Since thyme was the only herb I mixed in the pot, I decided I needed to add some salt. Now, I'm a salt person and usually can't get enough of the stuff. Knowing that, I added just a dash and let Michael taste the soup. From his perspective, it wasn't salty enough. So I preceded to add salt, and more salt, and even more salt. When I went to taste the lentil soup, I nearly had to spit it out. What was I thinking?! I even thought it was too salty. Again, I let Michael taste the dish. He made a face. Yup, I had ruined dinner.

Not giving up too easily I researched 'how to balance too much salt in soup.'

Here's what I discovered:
- Add potatoes - as they are supposed to soak up salt
- drain the broth and add a sodium free stock
- add a teaspoon of vinegar or sugar

The Results:
Since the soup was in need of an overhaul, I followed all of the instructions above. After work the next day, I hustled around the store grabbing, potatoes, broth and bread. ( I know the bread didn't have ANYTHING to do with the fore mentioned, but I thought it'd make a nice side addition.) Once at home, I strained about half the soup's broth before I dumped it all back into the crock pot. I cut up some potatoes, threw them in along with a teaspoon of sugar. After adding the sodium free broth I purchased, I turned on the crock pot and waited.

After about an hour or so, I tested my new creation. SOooooOo much and unbelievably better. I didn't want to instantly spit out the soup - it had a nice flavor. It still had some salt taste to it, but just enough to tickle your taste buds with goodness.

For all you lentil fans out there, here's the recipe I used. And remember, go easy on the salt ;)

By Mary Sperling of Newberg, Ore.
Ingredients:

3 carrots, chopped
3 ribs of celery, chopped
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, pressed
8 cups water or vegetable broth
2 cups lentils, rinsed
1 tsp. dried thyme

Directions Put all of these ingredients in the slow cooker. Set it on low if you are leaving it all day, high if you are starting it around lunchtime.

About 10 minutes before you are ready to serve the soup, add:
1 ½ tsp. balsamic vinegar
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. ground pepper
1 bunch of kale, washed and chopped (optional)

Hair Obsession

2012-01-08T19:09:00.000-06:00

I've recently been obsessed with my hair... Okay, so I'm always pretty obsessed with it, but right now, I'm obsessed with growing it out and dyeing it platinum blond. Think, Ashlee Simpson's new style. Don't worry, I haven't pulled the trigger on the platinum blond part, but I sure have been thinking about it. I'm in agony with my hair feeling like it's taking 500 years to grow out. Ugggh! So, to help move the stagnant process along, I've been trying to dye my hair different colors to spice things up.

In the first go-round of hair dye colors, I chose a semi-permanent lighter brown with a hint of what the box claimed to be "copper." The results: the EXACT same hair color I previously sported, with a hint of red - not particularly what I was shooting for. I was hoping for a lighter brown, with some copper highlights woven in.

So, out of pure anxiousness from my hair basically being the same color, I ran to the store to purchase a lighter brown. Results: a shade or two lighter brown with reddish-orange roots! AHHhhh. I felt like Buddy Pine from 'The Incredibles'. I thought red was supposed to FADE not get stronger! Especially since the "copper" I purchased was semi permanent! Oy Vey!

I needed to do something and fast! I had one last plan of attack before I hopped in the car and sped over to my hair dresser. Ardell makes a product called 'Unred Hair Color Drabber.' It was my last hope to pull the red-orange out of my hair. So, I grabbed a bottle of Medium Ash Blond and raced home to fix my fiery 'do.

The Results? The same dark shade of brown with a burgundy red color mixed throughout.

Unbeknownst to me, Unred is a black-as-night gel that preceded to negate the blond color all together.

I'm hopelessly trying to lighten my hair a few shades lighter each time I dye it, to no avail. I'm going to wait to try another color until my gray roots start showing. (Yes, I have some gray hair, genetics can be a bitch.) I figure that will give my hair enough time to 'heal' from all the processing and damage I've put it through.

Check Your O-Rings and Springs

2012-01-07T16:52:00.000-06:00

After an intense workout, I hopped in the shower to rinse off before heading to a nice dinner out with friends. When I leaned in to shut off the shower, the water kept running. I turned the nozzle as hard as I could to try and stop the water, but it kept streaming out of the faucet. I dried off, got dressed and called Michael to hurry home.

When Michael saw the faucet, he researched a few solutions online and figured out what we needed to do to fix the problem. The first step involved us shutting off the water to the house. That's when the real dilemma presented itself. We realized we had no clue how to turn the water off to the house. We searched the garage, the back and front yards. We finally came across our water meter box in the ground in the front yard. When we opened it up, we found the water meter but no valve. About six inches from the water meter was another box in the ground. We pried it open. Lo and behold there was a giant valve sticking up out of the ground. Michael grabbed a wrench and started to turn it.

When the valve was completely turned in the opposite direction, I ran in the house to see if the water was still on...yup. Nothing had happened. We didn't know what else to do.

With the water still streaming out of the spout, Michael took apart the faucet head to see if he could still fix it. Nothing.

By this time, I had called one of our engineering friends over to see if he could offer any insight. The valve outside had him just as baffled as us. Why wasn't the water shutting off?!!

Without any warning.... WOOOOSSHHHH!!!!! It sounded like Niagara Falls in our house. We scrambled into the bathroom to find water shooting out of the faucet head, beating against the back of the shower wall. Water spurted out of the shower door every which way all over the bathroom. I dashed to the linen closet to gather as many towels as my arms would hold. Michael braved the line of fire. He tried to put the faucet head BACK together with the water pelting his chest.

In the meantime, I called a plumber and the city desperately pleading with whomever would listen to come out and shut off our water. I also called another engineering friend over. We needed reinforcements.

By this point, the house was chaos. People yelling over the pulsating water, other people running around trying to shut off the water, Michael soaking wet trying to keep the water from saturating the entire bathroom.

All of a sudden the pipes moaned and the water came to an abrupt stop. I raced out front where two of my friends were huddled over a hole in the ground and shouted

"It worked!! The water is off!" WAHOO!!!

I think it took everyone a second to regain their composure, especially Michael who had been on the front line most of the evening.

It turns out the water line was in a second box in the ground under eight inches of dirt and roots. The faucet we originally tried to turn was part of our inoperable sprinkler system. Who knew!?

Since we didn't have the part to fix the shower, we left the water off and headed out to dinner with everyone who had helped at the house.

After all was said and done, it took 5 minutes to fix that damn shower head! The O-ring had worn and needed to be replaced along with two rubber washers and a spring that deteriorated. That was it!

I have to give a special shout-out to our friends for their help, to whom without we would have sported a pretty hefty plumbing bill.

Optimistic 2012

2012-01-05T13:29:00.000-06:00

The ball has dropped on another year, figuratively and literally, (and yes I know it's a bit cliche.) I feel as if I should have something profound to say about the past and present all rolled into one neat little blog, but all I could come up with is that I hope 2012 has MUCH better happenings in store than the last two years. I'm ready for a fresh start!

Since I don't believe in resolutions, I don't have any with which to inspire you. And technically, I have no control over how my year ends up playing out. So, having a great 2012 is not a resolution; it's more of a state of hopefulness.

I have a few things to look forward to this year though - people to see, places to explore, parties to have. So, I wait with anticipation and optimism that 2012 will be a downright exciting year.

Let's raise our glasses to an electrifying 2012.
Cheers!

Bedroom Remodel

2011-12-31T16:11:00.000-06:00

You may have heard about our disaster by now regarding the fiasco with our water heater. If you haven't, I'll quickly fill you in. We returned home from a wonderful Thanksgiving with my family to find our master bedroom basically flooded: water damage to the carpet, the walls, and my vanity. It turns out, one of the lines to the water heater burst creating quite a bit of damage.

So as of right now, we have no carpet in the master bedroom. The contractors disassembled my vanity, and made holes in our walls to run the new water line. It looks like a disaster zone in our room. The silver lining out of all of this is that we have fantastic homeowners insurance. They are going to pay to install new carpet, construct a new vanity, patch up the holes in the walls, and repaint our bedroom.

Since the carpet will be the last thing done to the room, we are still walking around on concrete. Also, the new vanity is taking a while to construct - I'm holed up in the guest bathroom until it’s finished. No complaints though, our bedroom is slowly coming together and will be new and improved once everything is finished.

My Editor in Chief

2011-11-14T08:34:00.000-06:00

Whenever I write a blog, I MUST have it edited. I am incapable of editing anything! I’ve never been any good at grammar, spelling, or sentence structure. When I was in college, my essays for English class would ALWAYS come back with notes in red ink scrawled across the top that said, “Please edit your papers!” The sad part was I DID! I just plain sucked at it.

Enter Michael. When we started dating, I asked if he would start editing any papers I’d written. Low and behold, the red lettering disappeared and I started making A’s!

Fast-forward to now. There isn’t a blog post that I have written that hasn’t been edited by my sweet husband. (And, hopefully, there are no mistakes in this blog!) So, I thought I’d give a shout-out to my “Editor in Chief,” without whom, my blogs would be a jumbled mess of incorrect grammar, and run-on sentences.

Sweet Spot

2011-10-26T12:35:00.000-05:00

I’ve definitely had a case of the "Mondays" yesterday. First off I awoke at 3:00am with a start because it felt like someone has jabbed a razorblade into my eyeball. I got up to flush it out and it was bloodshot-red, glossy and excruciatingly painful. With it still stinging, I trudged on back to bed.

About 3 ½ hours later, my alarm went off, waking me up for the day. In a sleep induced state, I flung my legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand using my best impression of a baby deer. When I gained my composure, I headed to the bathroom to take a shower. To my surprise, I found my loving husband is already IN the shower.

“What’s going on?! He doesn’t have to be at work until 9am and it's like 6:40am.”

“I have to be in early today for a show”, he shouted over the pulsating water.

So glad I was given a heads up! Anyway, while he finished washing off, I wasted time by feeding the cats and splashing more water into my eyeball. It was still on fire and looked even more like flames could shoot out of it at any moment. UGhh! I plodded back to the bathroom to see if the hubby was finished. YES! He’s out. Thank gawd. I jumped in.

I am blind as a bat without contacts or glasses. So, while in the shower with not so much as a magnifying glass, I was a struggling mess. I couldn’t tell the different bottles apart. Which one’s conditioner, shampoo, body wash!!!??? I had to hold them right up to my face before I could tell. “Great, as if I wasn’t already running behind!”

I darted out of the shower to get ready for the day. Michael was already headed out the door as I kissed him goodbye.

Except for my eye feeling as though it has about 1000 acupuncture needles sticking out of it, the rest of the morning was as smooth a silk. I even get to work 10 minutes early - time enough for me to make breakfast and enjoy a hot cup of tea. What I should mention here, is that I had to wear my glasses to work, since there was no way on this earth, I was getting a contact in my burning eyeball.

I HATE wearing my glasses with a passion. When I was in 3rd grade I had to get glasses because my eyesight was so bad. One person calls you four-eyes and your traumatized forever! I can’t put my glasses on today without reverting back to that little 3rd grade girl. It’s not that the frames are horrible. In fact I love the frames. I still just get self conscience when I have to wear them

While at work, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I slumped down in my chair, trying not to notice the stacks of papers on my desk. Then out of nowhere, my head felt like it’d been smashed into a brick wall. I had an unrelenting pain on the left side of my head that trickled down right behind my eyes. “Oh good, just what I needed right now.”

Let’s recap! I’m wearing glasses that make me feel like a laughing stock; my eye is in so much pain that I want to rip it out of my face, my head is pounding like I’m being struck repetitively with a 2x4, and I'm so tried that I'm sitting at my desk trying not to fall asleep and drool all over myself.

While in the middle of feeling sorry for myself, my co-worker walked in with a white bag around her arm. She reaches in and magically pulls out the most glorious looking cupcakes I’d ever seen. The cake part was a dark pink topped with billowy pink and white frosting with edible glitter sprinkled on. I stared at it and probably started drooling (the thing I've been trying so hard NOT to do) as I thanked her. It was immediately the sweet spot in my atrocious day. I devoured the cupcake as soon as I received it and it was absolutely delicious!

November

2011-10-21T09:32:00.000-05:00

So far, November seems like it’s going to be a jam-packed month of fun-filled activities! Not only is it my birthday month (yes I get a whole month to celebrate), but we’ll be seeing friends and family, going places, and hanging out.

The first weekend in November has been designated as our camping weekend. Once or twice a year, our crew packs up and heads out into the wild where we forage for two days, living off of nothing but berries, roots, and twigs... Ok, so it isn’t THAT dramatic. We actually scope out a state park, (with running water, and electricity) and set up camp. AND, we make sure there are bathrooms with real toilets (not holes in the ground) and showers with running water. Not to mention we haul in our air-mattresses to sleep on. Yeah, we are prima-donna campers, but what’s more fun than sitting around the fire taking in nature?

The second weekend in November is my birthday weekend. Wahoo! I’m not sure how we’re going to celebrate yet. But, what I DO know is that my gift from Michael is going to be me splurging on clothes and shoes!! How exciting does that sound?! (As he stands back in the corner saying “How many more pairs of shoes does she need!?”) Hehe

Hopefully, the third weekend in November will be our weekend to recuperate before we take a running leap into the holiday season. We don’t have any big plans this weekend, and would probably like to keep it that way. I mean we’ll need to do laundry at SOME point in November ;)

The last weekend is Thanksgiving. Michael and I will travel to Phoenix to see my family. We are going to have a big 'ol turkey dinner, hang out, visit, and reminisce. Besides catching up with family, one of my favorite things to do with my cousin is visit our tarot-card reading psychic. It’s all in good fun. We’ve been to see her a few times now and she surprisingly pretty spot on. I WOULD tell you with what, but that’s between her and me ;)

Friendship

2011-10-19T08:57:00.000-05:00

Friendship is…the sort of love one can imagine between angels. – C.S. Lewis

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship and how many wonderful friends I have in my life. I marvel at the fact that I still have one friend from elementary school. How we’ve been able to “put up” with each other for so long, I’ll never know. But, she’s one of my best friends and I love her through thick and thin.

Most friendships grow apart, and people get lost over time. Sometimes people frankly just grow apart because they have grown into different people. Since we are now adults, do we not chang as much as we did when we were kids? Is that another reason childhood friends always seem to fade away? I know there are some circumstances where people move away and you just lose touch.

I had a friend when I was growing up that lived right across the street from me. Some of the best memories of my childhood are with her. We used to make up dance routines to Disney songs, and perform them for our family. We also used to put on plays for our family; Cinderella was one of our favorites. She ended up moving away and we lost touch. The other day, out of the blue, she ‘friended’ me on Facebook. I was so elated; I got goose bumps when I saw her name! It was wonderful to hear from her. But I wonder as adults, can we have a friendship knowing the other person has changed? I guess we have to start from the ground up, which I’m definitely willing to do. She still holds a place in my heart, and always will, even if it turns out we don’t have much in common anymore.

I know it sounds sappy, but I’ve been so blessed to have the friends that I have. I have a group of girlfriends from high school (including the one from elementary) that I will probably be friends with for the rest of my life. I love them dearly. Even though we live in different parts of the country, we try to get together once a year. It’s always like old times, like we’ve never missed a beat. We always seem to pick up right where we left off. They’re amazing people each in their own way. I’m not sure how we haven’t grown apart, but we’ve managed to stick by each other.

My Family

2011-10-02T20:34:00.000-05:00

The last couple of days have been a very hard time for our family. We just found out that my aunt has Stage IV pancreatic and liver cancer. This is the aunt I grew up living next door to for 18 years of my life. She has always been there for me – like a second mom.

We are both night owls so the two of us would stay up till the wee hours of the morning watching movies, talking, and laughing. When I was in elementary school, she used to take me to the public swimming pool for a few hours. She would sit outside on the bleachers and watch me whilst I swam. One of the best memories I have of my aunt is during Halloween. She dressed up as a "bunch of grapes!" (Best costume ever.) My childhood is flooded with warm, fuzzy memories of her and her family.

It really makes me marvel at how precious family is. We love and care for each other so much. I don’t know what I would do without my family; they are the back of who I’ve become. I’m so blessed to be born into such a loving, caring, tight-knit group of people. I can’t say enough good things about them. I love them dearly.

Please keep our family in your thoughts and prayers during this rough time.

Suicide Awareness

2011-09-26T12:29:00.000-05:00

Michael and I are participating in a community walk to raise money for Suicide Awareness. It’s a wonderful cause. 33,000 lives are lost to suicide every year. If you read my blog regularly, you know that I lost my mom to suicide last year. Also, two years ago, I lost an uncle to suicide. So this is a cause that is definitely near and dear to my heart.

My personal fundraising goal was $500.00, but because of the support of so many wonderful people in my life, I surpassed my original goal. I’ve now bumped my goal up to $700.00. This fundraiser is a great way to spread the word and get help to people who need it.

If you are interested in donating to the fund please visit the link below.

http://afsp.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&eventID=1505&participantID=226543

Thank You

2011-08-30T08:34:00.000-05:00

It's hard to segue from my last blog into a new blog of relative unimportance, so I'll just say to all of you reading - thank you. Thank you for reading, thank you for caring, and thank you for being there for me. I love you all.

You - A Poem for Mom

2011-08-24T00:00:00.001-05:00

A year ago today my mom passed away. This poem is in her memory.

Your laughter was contagious
Your heart was full of song
Your will was intensely courageous
Your love was ever strong

You loved me with your heart and soul
You’d do anything for me
You helped me as a woman grow
You fought hard to make me see

Your face I will forever miss
Your words to which I’ll cling
Your smile was full of thoughtfulness
Your light was never ending

Your soul in Heaven sweetly rests
Your feet dance in the streets of gold
You always wanted what was best
Your heart’s forever mine to hold

Small Update

2011-08-22T09:19:00.002-05:00

There has been a small update regarding my dad. The private investigator reached out to several different gentlemen who share the same name as my dad. Most of them have responded by saying that they are not related and never knew my mom.

There is still a small ounce of hope left. The P.I. has a feeling about a guy who lives in California. She has contacted him, but she hasn't received a response back yet. All I can hope for is some sort of response from him - regardless of the response. No response at all would be heart-breaking. I would never know if this guy happened to be him or not. I feel that living with the "what if" factor would be agonizing.

If it turns out that the man in California isn't my dad, all I can do is keep looking, and not give up hope. If it is indeed him, that's a whole other ball game. Wish me luck.

Teavana - Heaven of Tea

2011-07-29T15:24:00.000-05:00

In the frigid recesses of my office, icicles hang from my eyelashes and my fingers turn blue and numb as I try to type. With every breath I can see the air turn to frost as it exudes from my lips… Ok, maybe it’s not THAT cold in my office, but it sure isn’t a comfortable temperature for me to work in. I have to have a small space heater on under my desk most of the day and a sweater or jacket that fully covers my arms. And, I always have a cup of hot tea on hand to sip on throughout the day to warm my innards.

The tea I drink is loose leaf tea from Teavana.com. They have some of the most wonderful, savory tea flavors I’ve ever tasted – Almond Biscotti, Cacao Mint, Cacao Praline Tart, Toasted Nut Brule, Blackberry Mojito, Peach Cran-Tango, just to name a few. If you’re not a fan of those flavors, they also have the basics like, English Breakfast, Green Tea, Peppermint and Earl Grey. When that first drink in the morning hits my lips and slides down my throat, I melt at its goodness. It’s like all those coffee commercials when the couple is sitting on the couch holding their coffee cups snuggled next to each other, savoring the moment. Ahhh. It’s a lot like that except I’m in an office chair with fluorescent lights beating down on me and the phone ringing off the hook ;) (And of course it's tea not coffee.)

The tea is comforting and a delicious part of my day - a moment of sanity and serenity in the crazy working-world.

Shoes - An Obsession

2011-07-21T10:00:00.000-05:00

I never thought I would be someone who was obsessed with shoes. I actually never though I indeed WAS obsessed with shoes until my husband brought it to my attention. I literally have shoes ALL over our room and most of the time, scattered all over the house. I always used to tell myself, "Oh I’ll never be one of those women. I just need a few essential pairs and I’m good to go." Apparently I was wrong. I’ve accumulated so many shoes over the years that some of them don’t have a home. They reside on the floor in front of my dresser. How and when did I become so obsessed with shoes?! I’m not sure, but I just know that I can’t stop buying them. I have everything from flip-flops to wedges, pumps to tennis shoes, flats to sling backs. They are perfectly crafted pieces of art that suck you in to their mystical powers. When their magic encompasses you, it’s over. The pair of shoes now owns you and there’s no turning back. All you can do is obey the shoes, and purchase them. Then you end up with a floor that looks like this:

P.I.

2011-07-05T09:39:00.000-05:00

About a week ago, I hired a private investigator to find my dad. I’m trying to keep calm and steady, but I have so many emotions and questions tumbling around inside me, I don’t know what to think. Is he still alive? Is he married? Do I have half-siblings? Is he going to care that I exist? Is the P.I. going to be able to find him at all? I really just don’t know what to think at the moment. I’m nervous and excited all at the same time.

I can tell you that the meeting with the private investigator went really well. I gave her all of the information I knew about him, and phone numbers of friends and family that might know more about him. The P.I. suggested that any little nugget of information can help, even if it seems to be a minor detail. She did say this was going to be a challenge in that my dad has a very common name, but she has never not found anyone before - a ray of hope for such a shot in the dark.

My main reason in finding him is, of course, selfish. I want to find out about my other side of the family. And, I want some closure in who HE is. I feel as if I have a right to know. I need closure. After losing my mom, I feel as if this is my last shred of hope in still having a parental figure of some sort.
I’ll keep you up-to-date as I know more information. Right now, it’s just a waiting game.

I Heart Summer Time

2011-06-02T16:15:00.000-05:00

Since Memorial Day has passed, it is unofficially, Summer Time! I love the summer and everything about it. Especially:

1. Wearing Flip-Flops

2. How the warm sun embraces me as I step out of my cold office

3. Swimming in and laying out by my pool

4. Playing in the waves of a gorgeous beach

5. Bar-B-Qs with friends

6. Luxurious pedicures

7. Longer evenings shared with the sun

8. Baseball! Go Rangers!

9. Snow-cone stands around every corner (wedding cake with cream, YUM!)

10. The treat of an ice cold Coke-a-Cola as it cools off my insides

So, kick off those shoes and cannonball into what will hopefully be a fantastic summer.

Cheers!

Easter in Tampa

2011-05-12T12:52:00.000-05:00

I know I’m a little behind on this, but below are just some of the pictures from our Awesome Easter weekend spent in Tampa.

Me with my adorable nephew Jackson

Good times

Jackson with his Uncle Michael

Jackson with his dad Andrew

Feeding Time

Laughing with mommy

Such a beautiful family

Dyeing Easter Eggs!

Even though he's a Floridian, Jackson is a Texas Rangers Fan!

Happy Birthday Mom

2011-05-05T08:02:00.000-05:00

t’s been 8 ½ months since my mom has passed away, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her. In honor of her birthday today, and Mother's Day just three days away, I'd like to celebrate her memory reminiscing about why I loved her:

1. I loved the way she answered the phone when I called. She was always so excited to hear from me.
2. I loved that she would send me cards/gifts just because she saw something and thought of me – no special occasion needed.
3. I loved how giving she was. She didn’t have much, but was willing to give you anything and everything she could.
4. I loved our everyday phone calls. I think I’ve missed those the most.
5. I loved her laugh – well, it was more of a cackle, but was very infectious.
6. I loved her passion for music. She’s the reason I sang all through high school and college. I adored every second of it.
7. I loved that she was a hippie growing up. It shaped who she was as an adult and made her a free-spirited, lovely person.
8. I loved that she would take care of me when I was sick; even as I was a grown adult.
9. I loved that she would listen to me vent about anything and everything under the sun and agree with everything I had to say, no matter how outlandish it was.
10. I loved my mom for who she was as a person and a mom.

I can think of 100 more reasons why I loved her, but these are just a few. Happy Birthday, and Happy Mother’s Day Mom. I love and miss you very much.

I Heart Zumba®

2011-04-26T19:31:00.000-05:00

While in Tampa this past weekend, my awesome sister- in-law asked if I would join her at the gym to take a Zumba® class. I was stoked to try something new, so I threw on my shoes and headed out the door. I’d heard about Zumba®, but had never had the opportunity to take a class. For those of you who don’t know, Zumba® is a dance inspired workout set to various sorts of Latin music. (Check out www.zumba.com )

First off, when we entered into the classroom I fell in love. When we first walked in we saw an elevated platform for the instructor, and floor to ceiling mirrors covering everything but the back wall. The floor was divided into three descending sections of floor space, much like stadium seating.
Even though I had no idea what I was doing, the music penetrated my soul, radiated through my body bursting through my limbs, creating invigorating dance moves. The best part was I didn’t feel like I was trudging through another mindless workout routine. And even though I was drenched in sweat, I had a blast! And to top of the session, my heart rate monitor claimed I’d burned 700 calories! What a deal for not feeling like I was actually working out.

It was such a joy and thrill to be able to dance again. (I used to dance on the dance team in high school and college. Before that, my mom put me in studio dance classes.) I’m not an amazing dancer or anything, I just have a passion for it.
My local gym doesn’t offer Zumba® classes, but I have found a dance studio that does. I’m so in love with Zumba® that I’m going to give this dance studio a try. It’ll be a little intimidating going by myself, but I know it’ll be worth it!

What Works for You

2011-04-17T17:09:00.002-05:00

I’ve tried to fit the workout program P90X into my schedule for about 3 weeks, and failed miserably. With the fast-paced exercises you HAVE to work out 6 days a week for an hour to an hour and a half! For most people this is impossible. If you’re like me, working out in the morning is not even an option. I value my sleep – plus I’m not, nor will I ever be a morning person. That only leaves the evenings after work to pop in the DVD’s and work out. This is OK maybe three days a week, but six?! Oy Vey! That leaves absolutely no time in the evenings to do much of anything. I like to cook dinner, watch TV, and tidy up the house - among other things. Now, I do want to say, P90X is a great program. And, if you can fit it in six days a week, I say go for it, because it’s a tremendous workout.

So, what am I doing to get in shape for summer? I have decided to keep going with the Jillian Michaels' workouts from her book Making the Cut. They are incredible. I burn around 500 calories in each session. Her workouts are always changing the routine up, and you never get bored with what you are doing. I try to squeeze them into my day four times a week. But when on earth do I have time to fit these awesome workouts into my schedule? Lunch time! I have access to a gym and a shower during my lunch break so I take full advantage. Don’t worry, I don’t sacrifice my healthy food habits to exercise. I eat my lunch and snacks at my desk throughout the day. Also, my husband and I are geared up to play racquetball at our local gym three nights a week. This way, I get to slip in extra cardio and I have the remaining weeknights to do the chores that need to get done.

You have to find what works best for you, and fits into your schedule. I was trying to fit P90x in my schedule because my friend was gung-ho about it. Her drive made me want to do what she was doing. But it wasn't right for me.

For now the plan I have in place seems to be working wonderfully well. I’m going on week 2 of this workout and I love it. This exercise routine couldn't have worked out better for my schedule.

Even More Anxious Ramblings

2011-04-13T19:36:00.001-05:00

you probably know by now, I’m obsessed with my hair – otherwise, I wouldn’t have already written two blogs about it ... And here’s the third. I know it seems immaterial to keep writing about my hair, but I’ve found a new hair style that I’m completely infatuated with. It’s short, fun, spunky, and normally something I wouldn’t attempt; but I’m in LOVE with the style. I know I whined about it being too short in my last hair blog, but I wasn’t ready to have it all chopped off. Now, its short and I have to live with it. I’m also not fond of the current style. I want something different.

What scares me is how short the style actually is. Again, I have the same questions as before: can the stylist cut it like I want? Am I going to like it? Blah, blah, blah. (I am going to a different stylist than the one who just chopped off my hair without reason.)

Ok, this is what I’m thinking about getting:

I haven’t had my hair that short since high school! And even back then, it wasn’t a hair style I chose - it wasn’t even a style at all! I sat down in the stylist’s chair and told her to cut all the fake blonde out of my hair. Voila! A short haircut.

I know most of you who read my blog don’t leave comments, which is perfectly fine. But, I would LOVE some feedback on whether or not I should get my hair cut this short.

Jukebox the Ghost

2011-04-10T13:40:00.000-05:00

For an early birthday gift, I took Michael to see Guster live at the House of Blues. Although Guster was entertaining and fun to watch, the highlight for me was the opening band, Jukebox the Ghost. I'd never heard them before but thought they were awesome! After their set, we got to meet them and collect their signatures! Super sweet, great guys. All in all it was a great night!

Below are two great songs off their new albums.

Baseball's Back Baby!

2011-04-05T20:20:00.000-05:00

Can you smell it?!
Ballpark nachos, juicy hot dogs loaded to the brim, peanuts being tossed to anticipating fans. The grass has been freshly cut, and the players have loosened up. Put on your ball caps, dust off those gloves and sport your favorite team’s gear as the players wind up for another 162 game season. Ladies and gentlemen, get on your feet and do the wave because baseball season has officially begun! WAHOOO!

It’s going to be another exhilarating season of baseball – I can feel it in my gut. I love the crack of the bat, the double steals, and the walk-off homeruns (amongst other things). The atmosphere of the park and the thrilling roar of the crowd makes my hair stand on end and gives me goose bumps.

If you know me, you know that I’m a diehard (Die Hard!) Texas Rangers fan. I’ve been in their corner for years - even when the playoffs were out of site This year we’ve started off the season with a BANG going 4-0, sweeping the Red Sox Nation right out of town. Ian Kinsler hit THREE homeruns in the first three games of the year, and Nellie Cruz has hit FOUR in the first 4! A feat that no other American League player has ever accomplished! New teammate, Adrian Beltre smashed the ball out of the park for his 9th career grand slam after the bases were intentionally loaded. Starting pitcher, Matt Harrison tossed 7 innings of one run baseball and had 8 Ks! And, we can’t forget to mention the rest of the team’s phenomenal effort in taking down Boston.

So, let’s raise those outrageously expensive glasses of cheap ballpark beer to an out-of-the-park season!

PLAY BALL!

Tax Time

2011-04-01T16:25:00.000-05:00

Fifteen days until tax deadline – counting today! If you’re one of the lucky who get money back, you’ve probably already filed. If you’re among the not so fortunate, you’ve waited until around now-ish to start working on your taxes. Why does the government need your money before the deadline anyway? They take enough as it is. They can wait.

We have no idea whether we owe money or get a refund, but we’ve waited until now to even think about our taxes. We procrastinate. :P As not to leave any stone unturned, we decided that this year we are headed on down to the professionals at H&R Block. Hopefully in the end, they are able to find a refund for us. That’d be fantastic. J Wish us luck as we are hoping for the best.

New Day

2011-03-29T15:21:00.000-05:00

For the past few months I have had so much negativity in my life. Lately, I’ve been dealing with some pretty heavy issues that I don’t want to burden you with, nor that I want to talk about in public.
After the past year I’ve had, I feel like I need to start over – refresh, reboot. I’ve never been much of a chirpy, bubbly person, but I need to learn to run and seize hold of the lovely, positive blessings in my life..
To me this blog has become my personal, uplifting, bright spot of the week. I need to keep this space encouraging and positive for myself and others.
So, for now, I have nothing else to write other than keep me and my family in your prayers and, or thoughts. Love to you all.

I'm an Aunt!!

2011-03-14T12:55:00.000-05:00

I have a brand new nephew as of March 12, 2011! William Jackson Tillman is 8lbs 4oz, and is a handsome little guy! I’m so excited to be an aunt. I want to be the kind of aunt mine have been to me – loving, nurturing, adoring, supportive, awesome, and the list goes on. Not to mention they spoiled me rotten! ;)

Look how handsome!

Jackson with his beautiful Mom, Kacy.

More Anxious Ramblings

2011-03-12T15:37:00.001-06:00

I had good reason to be anxious when I went to the hair dresser on Saturday. Not only did he cut off MORE than I asked for, he didn’t cut my hair in the STYLE I asked for either! In my head, it was a disaster. I’d lost all my beautiful hair and it wasn’t cut the way I wanted. I was completely devastated and wanted to cry. I had no idea he was hacking off so much because I wasn’t facing the mirror at the time of the chopping. When I realized how short it was, I inquired about the style. Why wasn’t he cutting it to match the picture? He gave me some technical explanation about the hair not looking right. I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Why didn’t he tell me this BEFORE he cut off all my hair! I’m usually too shy to say anything, so after the fact, all I could mutter was, “It’s so short!” Additionally, I went in the salon, gave an explanation of what I wanted, AND I showed him at LEAST 5 pictures of the same haircut!

(This is the hair style, and length I was going for. Isn't she beautiful?!)

I determined I wasn’t going to let this blunder get me too down. I decided to go to a different stylist to fix the look of the cut. I made an appointment at a salon I hadn’t been to in years, with a stylist I’ve never seen before. (I know, I cheated on my stylist!) I went in and told her my story. I also showed her the pictures of what my hair was supposed to look like. She followed up the conversation with, “I know exactly how to fix this!” I held my breath and hoped for the best. When she was finished, I let out a huge sigh of relief. She indeed knew exactly what she was doing, and my hair shaped up much better than before.

Even though I lost more of my hair than I wanted, I’m dealing with the cut much better now that it has been fixed. My hair definitely doesn't take as long to style in the morning, which was part of my goal in the first place. I have no choice now but to rock the shorter hair, especially since we are approaching spring and summer.

Anxious Ramblings

2011-03-04T11:59:00.000-06:00

Hair – We cut, dye, straighten, curl, grow, love and hate it. For most women our hair is our livelihood. We are obsessed with it! Ok, well at least I’m Obsessed with it. It's like an actual part of my anatomy, a silky-smooth appendage. Most days I love my hair. However, lately mine gets thrown up in a pony-tail because it’s too long and takes too much time to fix in the mornings. I want to be able to be ready for the day in 30 minutes, not spend 30 minutes on my hair alone! But of course I want it to look amazing, and not look like something one of my cats dragged in! So, can I have my cake and eat it too? I sure hope so - I’m getting my hair cut off on Saturday. Normally, this isn’t something I’d blog about, but I’ve been fixating on it all week – its tough thinking about losing something that has been a part of you and your appearance for a few years. I've been showing people pictures of how I want my hair to look, asking for suggestions, and hoping the majority of those people like the style I show them.

For the look I desire, my hair stylist is going to have to cut off four to five inches of hair! I keep thinking, what if I don’t like it? What if I can’t fix it? Is the cut going to go with my face shape? Is the stylist going to be able to cut it exactly like I want it? These thoughts and more keep swirling around in my head. So, why even get my hair cut if I’m so worked up about it? Because, it’s time for a change and I need something different. Like I said before, I need an easy hair style to fix in the mornings.

I know there are far more important things to worry about, and believe me, I do. I have a whole mess of other stuff on my plate that I agonize over. I’ve just happened to add this to my list of things to over-analyze and fixate on. I’ll let you know how I like it. Wish me luck!

The Masked Marauder

2011-03-03T08:59:00.000-06:00

It was about 11:30pm and I was fast asleep. Michael lounged in the living room watching TV, while two of our three cats sprawled out on the back of the couch. The ‘doggy’ door we keep open for the cats, flapped back and forth.

“It’s probably just Henry going in and out,” thought Michael.

The noise stopped, but started right back up again within a few minutes. When Michael looked up and realized Henry, the third cat, was actually curled up on the recliner, he knew something was wrong. He whirled around just in time to see a long furry snout and two deep black beady eyes glaring at him through the dog door. The dark curious eyes belonged to a raccoon! Michael was stunned! He didn’t know what to do. Should he bark at it, clap at it, run towards it? Michael knew he couldn’t let the masked marauder in the house. He realized that the raccoon must have tangled with cats before, so he made a hissing noise at the nocturnal creature. Startled, the raccoon jumped and backed out of the door. Michael immediately closed and locked the dog door.

The raccoon wasn’t to be stopped. He moseyed around to our large bay window overlooking our kitchen. He stood upright on his hind legs looking to see what was inside the house and for another way in. Michael said he stood at least two feet tall, and was as big around as an over-sized 3rd grader. The creature was as fluffy as keeshond and had the haunches of a bear! Looking around, the animal realized he couldn’t get into the house through the bay window. He sauntered back around to the locked dog door and scratched on it until Michael banged on the door. Frustrated at this point, the bandit made his way BACK to the bay window. Standing on his haunches once more he put his miniature paws on the glass as if he were a kid looking in the window of a toy store. He sniffed the window up and down and queried Michael for and entrance into the house. Michael dashed to get the camera.

“No one is going to believe me if I don’t get a shot of this creature,” he thought.

As soon as he tried to take the priceless shot, the flash startled the animal, and he scampered off into the night from where he came.

After the event was over, Michael looked to all three lazy cats that had not once lifted a paw, or invoked a growl or hiss to help out the situation.

“A great bunch of guard cats you lot are,” he thought.

Banana Bread - Made with Love

2011-03-02T14:15:00.000-06:00

Saturday mornings I’m usually up and out of bed before Michael. Sometimes I like the peace and quiet to do my own thing, and sometimes I turn on the TV for company. This particular Saturday morning, much to my surprise, Michael was out of bed before I was. I didn’t realize he’d woken up until the lovely aroma of bread wafted through the house. I was up and out of bed as soon as that smell danced around my nostrils. Instead of turning on his video game, or watching TV, Michael made us banana bread - from scratch no less! Yummy! What a wonderful guy!

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter
3/4 cup brown sugar
2 eggs, beaten
2 1/3 cups mashed overripe bananas
Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Lightly grease a 9x5 inch loaf pan.

2. In a large bowl, combine flour, baking soda and salt. In a separate bowl, cream together butter and brown sugar. Stir in eggs and mashed bananas until well blended. Stir banana mixture into flour mixture; stir just to moisten. Pour batter into prepared loaf pan.

3. Bake in preheated oven for 60 to 65 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into center of the loaf comes out clean. Let bread cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack.

By: Shelley Albeluhn http://allrecipes.com//Recipe/banana-banana-bread/Detail.aspx

Brand New Cousin

2011-02-28T09:31:00.000-06:00

I just wanted to share pictures of my handsome new cousin Tyler. Hopefully I'll have more to share with you later, but I couldn't wait.

Tyler and his beautiful, glowing mom Kim.

Tyler was 5lbs 9 oz. Isn't he precious!?

10 Reasons I Heart My Valentine

2011-02-10T21:00:00.000-06:00

We all know the big reasons why we love our significant other – they help us through the hard times, they support us, they love us, they cheer us up etc. but what about the little things? The small stuff is what makes the world go ‘round. I feel if we didn’t have the little things, the big things would almost seem insignificant. The little things are what reinforce in me why I married my husband.

10 small things I love about my Valentine:

1. The goofy little jigs he does that make me smile

2. The times he gets me a heating pad and Advil for my chronic neck pain before I go to bed

3. When he irons my pants for the next work day – otherwise I’d go to work with wrinkled pants!

4. He helps me cook dinner

5. He will fill my car up with gas late at night when I’ve forgotten to do it that day and my tank is reading EMPTY

6. He watches really bad, cheesy, horror flicks with me

7. While at the movies, I will find us seats and he will order our food. When makes his way to his seat, not only has he ordered what I asked for, but sometimes he surprises me with my favorite kind of movie theater candy.

8. He goes clothes shopping with me and doesn’t sit in the corner and sulk!

9. He gets along with my girlfriends

10. If I leave my phone at home when I go to work, he’ll bring it to me on his lunch break so I don’t have to drive home without a phone.

Super Bowl Festivities

2011-02-10T09:03:00.000-06:00

Last week the Metroplex was all abuzz with Super Bowl fever. Cowboy's Stadium in Arlington hosted Super Bowl XLV this past Sunday. Fort Worth had the pleasure of hosting the Steelers, as Dallas had the pleasure of hosting the Green Bay Packers. The entire week before the big event, ESPN set up shop in the middle of Sundance Square right outside my office building. Not only was traffic insane, but the streets of downtown were littered with Packers and Steeler's fans; not to mention the people sporting Cowboys attire. Michael even had the privilege of welcoming Mike Ditka to Fort Worth as he walked past him in my office building. In spite of the nasty below freezing weather, it had been nonstop football all week.

To continue the celebration of the week’s festivities, one of our good friends hosted a Super Bowl Party. Since this is the one time a year I watch football, I definitely only went for the company, good food, and hilarious Super Bowl commercials. The main staple of the party has always been a good, hearty bowl of chili – which I happen to have the recipe for and would like to share because it’s too yummy not too!

Enjoy!

Shiner Bock Chili
(Serves 10-12)

2 ½ pounds coarsely ground beef
1 large yellow onion, chopped
2 large jalapeno peppers, seeded and chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
3 poblano peppers, seeded and chopped
3 chipotle chiles in adobo, chopped very finely
¼ cup chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
½ tablespoon dried oregano
½ tablespoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 (14.25-ounce) cans tomato puree
12-ounce bottle Shiner Bock beer
2 (14-ounce) cans beef broth
¼ cup masa harina (not corn flour)
Optional garnishes: shredded cheddar, sour cream, tortilla strips, chopped onion, Fritos.

1. Heat a large, heavy pot over high heat. Add the meat and sear, stirring, until browned. Drain off any excess fat.
2. Lower the heat to medium-high and add the onions, jalapenos, garlic, pablanos, chipotles and chile powder. Cook, stirring frequently until the onions are wilted and are starting to color, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the cumin, oregano, salt and pepper; cook until fragrant. Add the tomato puree and beer, stirring to deglaze the pan.
3. Pour the beef broth into a large bowl; then stir the mesa into the broth, mixing well. Add mixture to the pan and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, partially covered, stirring occasionally, until the meat is very tender, about 1 hour.
4. To serve, garnish each bowl or cup with tortilla strips, shredded Cheddar, sour cream and chopped onion.
-Dena Peterson, Chef, Café Modern

Winter Storms

2011-02-01T14:26:00.000-06:00

Storm of 2011

Today was somewhat of a snow day for Michael and me. We are both working from home while the winter weather gusts and swirls outside our window. This year’s winter storm hasn’t been nearly as bad as last year’s storm, which we are extremely thankful for. The only unbearable thing about this storm is the wind chill – NEGATIVE 3!! We would have given anything for last year's hiccup to only have been negative temperatures.

Storm of 2010

Two days before Valentine’s Day, snowflakes as big as grapes fell out of the sky. As much as I wanted it to be a soft beautiful snowfall, these suckers where careening out of the sky hard and fast. It felt like the snow and sleet had us surrounded and we were trapped. You didn’t dare go outside for fear of the sleet dive-bombing your face. Michael and I sat inside all snug and cozy with the heater up full blast - taking advantage of the warmth. Then, the worst thing imaginable happened. The power started to fade in and out, and the heat shut off. BAM! Sparks flew out of the fan and the electricity blew. Michael and I sat in the dark stunned for a minute until we realized we needed to find some candles and flashlights. We made the most of it at first, playing shadow puppets waiting for the power to come back on. As the hours lurched on we knew we had to do something.

Our friend offered to take us in for the night so we’d have a warm couch to sleep on. We gladly obliged. 10:00 pm rolled around and we were once again snuggled in the warmth of blankets and a heater, this time soaking up every last bit of warmth we could. We lay on the couch watching TV when everything went pitch black and the heater faltered off. Are you kidding me?! Power was out. We’re cursed. We laid there in disbelief. What else were we going to do, it was almost 11:00 at night and we’d already ventured out in the snow and sleet once. We all wrapped up in blankets and hunkered down until morning.

We decided to brave the roads the next morning to survey the damage at our house. It was a disaster zone. The snow and ice was so heavy that giant tree branches broke off and blocked our driveway and garage. There were tree limbs on the house, in the pool, on the back patio, and in the side yard. It literally looked like a tornado came through, shredded our trees, but spared our house. Hoping the power may have come back on, we trudged our way up to the front door. Nope, the power was still out and the house was as cold as a meat locker. It was about this time work sent a company-wide email out to its employees telling them to be safe and not come into work. Hallelujah! I hadn’t had a shower yet!

Not having to go to work, and our power still out, Michael and I spent the next few hours at the movies and out and about at warm stores, just walking around. There was nothing to do at the house but be cold. Not fun! It was around 4:00 pm when we decided to come home to see if the power had flipped back on. Nothing! What next? We called another friend who lived on the opposite side of town. They graciously let us come over, take hot showers and stay on an air mattress that night as their power was still operating.

Valentine’s Day

Once more, we made the trek back to our house to see if the power was on. Not a damn thing. The food in our refrigerator had gone bad and reeked. Everything in our freezer had melted and there were water puddles on the floor. Bags of food later, the fridge and freezer were cleaned out. Mind you, some stuff we did keep, but most of it we had to toss.

2:00 pm, we headed back out into the cold to be pampered. I'd made arrangements for us to have couples spa day for Valentine’s Day a few weeks earlier. It couldn’t have come at a better time. We were worn out, cold, hungry, and depressed. A massage, facial and pedicure were exactly what we needed. Although the whole time we were indeed being pampered we were wondering if our power had FINALLY switched back on. It had been 2 ½ days already.

Once again we returned to a house with no power, no heat, no food. I went to hunker under the covers as Michael went to mess with the breaker box.

I lay in bed messing with the internet on my phone when I kept hearing a certain whirring noise. What the hell is that?! OMG it’s the heater!!… THE HEATER!!! The power is back on!!! I sprinted outside tripping all over myself and yelled to Michael at the top of my lungs “COME INSIDE, THE POWER’S BACK ON!!!” That was the most amazing feeling in the world. Finally, our power had been fixed!

Foodie Lifestyle Made Simple

2011-01-24T18:16:00.000-06:00

Recently, Michael and I have started cooking each night for dinner. This is a new revelation to us in that we used to eat frozen food or take-out all the time - not healthy options. We then moved onto someone making the food for us, which was nice, but we were eating the same things over and over; not to mention it became pretty pricey. There was one option left – cook our own dinner. I’d never grown up in a house with a lot of cooked food. We’d eat out, eat at the neighbors, or eat lots of frozen food. I wasn’t used to cooking. Standing over a stove, chopping vegetables, and thawing out meat for the next day, was all foreign to me.

Since I started my new health craze, I’ve desired to cook much healthier food, but didn’t know where to start. That is when I looked to my sister-in-law. She has grown up cooking wonderful healthy meals and even teaches a food class! When we visit her, I always absorb her cooking style and ability. It’s been fascinating to me since I never grew up knowing how to do what she could in the kitchen. First off, she gathers several recipes for the week, and then from the recipes she makes a grocery list. From the groceries, she whips up beautifully delicious meals. So simple, yet something that would never have crossed my mind - you only have to go out shopping once a week! (I know, my revelation came a bit later in life, but at least it came.) She prepares all the food the day she buys it. This way she doesn’t have to take the time to chop veggies every night. I like to think of myself as spontaneous, but planning in the kitchen makes it 100 times easier to cook healthy meals throughout the week. I have one particular cookbook that I love to use (The Abs Diet 6-Minute Meals for 6 Pack Abs), and another Abs Diet cookbook on the way in the mail that I’m super excited about. The meals are yummy and don’t require 100 ingredients to make one dish. And, if I think they are tasty that’s saying something - I’m an extremely picky eater.

Anyway, back to my sister-in-law. She wrote a blog not too long ago about healthy food suggestions, how to shop for good food, and a healthy life style over all. It has wonderful suggestions and is a must read. http://kacytillman.blogspot.com/2011/01/food-and-other-rules.html

What a Year for a New Year

2011-01-06T19:57:00.000-06:00

We’ve wrestled though the holidays and broken free for the start of a New Year. I feel as if I should have something profound to say…I got nothing. But what I do have is the optimism that 2011 won’t be as abysmal as 2010. I don’t like to call them New Year’s Resolutions because those fade with in the first few weeks of the year; I do, however, have a few items I’d like to cross off my list in 2011.

1. To find my dad. I wanted to wait until the holidays blew over before I decided to look for him. Could you imagine me showing up on his doorstep with a giant bow on my head Christmas Day? “Surprise! I’m your long lost daughter… Merry Christmas!” As much fun as that could have been, I think that I’m going to go through an agency to find him. They might be able to find an email address or phone number first. We could safely communicate that way for a while before we met face to face. Either way, it’s going to be scary enough for the both of us and I’d like to keep it as comfortable as possible. I think that I am going to start around March of this year trying to locate him. As I said before, I’ll keep you updated.

2. Travel more. I love to travel! It’s exhilarating and fills me with so much joy – not many things do that. I’d love to go back to Hawaii and have a MUCH better time than I did last year. I’d also like to explore Texas more. There are things in my own backyard that I’ve never seen or done. South Padre Island, Galveston, Schlitterbahn, Tubing the Guadalupe – just to name a few! I’d also like to travel to see my family more often. I have family in Arizona and Florida that I only see about once a year and it breaks my heart. That needs to change!

3. Be a healthier person. I’m completely addicted to sweets and unhealthy food. I’ve started the New Year off eating healthy, and clean food and exercising my heart out. For this to continue, I need my motivation to stay full steam ahead. I’ve been journaling my exercise routines, and food intake in my fitness blog “Impossible is Nothing." This has helped me stay accountable to myself and others. I’ve also entered a fitness competition online at bodybuilding.com for a chance to win $100,000 or several awesome runner up prizes. The goal of the competition is total body transformation - going from flab to toned and/or ripped in 12 weeks. It’s going to be extremely difficult, but it is another motivator to help me keep up with my diet and exercise plan. I also have my 10-year high school reunion this summer, and who doesn’t want to look fabulous for that?!

I’m sure my list will grow throughout the year, (another reason to not call them New Year’s Resolutions) so hopefully I can keep up with it.

My Dad

2010-12-01T19:51:00.002-06:00

I’ve been around so much family recently, that it has peaked my curiosity into who my dad is - who the other half of ME is.

Growing up, my world consisted of my mom and me, and my aunt and uncle who lived next door. When my mom passed, she left me a stack of letters, marking different events in my childhood and how I grew up. The last item was a small envelope that contained two pictures. Both pictures were of my mom and a man I had never seen before. Of course with my luck, there was nothing written on the back; no mention of a date or a name. This HAS to be my dad! I scoured the letters for a scrap of a clue as to who might be in the picture sitting next to my mom. No dice! I immediately took the picture to my aunt in Arizona. "Is this my dad!?" She took the picture and gave it a good look. “Well, I've never seen him before, but it has to be. You look like him." My ears ran hot and I felt like I had been jolted with a defibrillator. My whole life I’ve been told that I'm a spitting image of my mom and my grandmother. It was so foreign to hear someone tell me I looked like another human being. Was I that much closer to finding my dad?! That thought raced through my mind over and over.

My mom’s story about my dad made him out to be a cold-hearted bastard. I was told he dated my mom for a while and as soon as he found out she was pregnant, he took off. He didn’t want anything to do with me or my mom, and left her behind. I was also told that he wanted her to get an abortion – whether this is true or not, I have no idea. These were just a few of the reasons I never wanted to have anything to do with him

Assuming my dad never wanted a thing to do with me, I never inquired about him, except about money. Thinking this man was a jerk, I asked where the hell he was, and why he wasn’t helping pay my college tuition. She told me it was inappropriate to ask him for the funds, and we would figure out a way to pay it on our own. The issue of my dad was dropped and never brought up again.

From what I was told by my aunts, my dad used to be and maybe still is, a truck driver for Shell. On his route through town, he’d give my mom a call so they could meet up and go on dates. On one of his treks to see my mom, he decided to break off whatever it was they had going. My mom wound up pregnant but decided not to tell my dad, because he was married! My mom finally decided to do the right thing and tell him she was pregnant. Of course, at first he wanted nothing to do with us. After a while of letting the news sink in, he decided he wanted to get to know me. My mom however said that he could only see me when I was ready.

In talking with my aunt in Arizona and my aunt in Texas, I found out my mom told her if I ever wanted to know about my dad, I just had to ask. What?! I told my aunt I had asked about him once and my mom blew off the situation. Apparently, asking about my dad just for money wasn’t the right time to tell me about him, which I can understand. But, to never bring him up back up? How bizarre! My mom also told my aunt she kept all of his information in case I needed his medical background or wanted to find him. I have to say, I have been through all of her stuff and still can't find ANTYING about him. Very frustrating.

I do eventually want to find him, even if the only reason is to know where the other half of me came from. I don't need money and I don't need a kidney. I just want to know him and his history - our history.
I have asked several family members if they knew him, or had seen him, and no one had met him before. I know of one of my mom's best friends from when they were younger and she is the only one I haven't asked about my dad. I’m intimidated to call her. What if she does know something about him? I could be that much closer to finding him. What is he doesn't want to know who I am anymore? What if he doesn't care? What if he is a sleaze-bucket? On the other hand, what if he's a kind man that is loving and accepting, and has been waiting for me to find him for 28 years?

I have a collage of emotions running through my head about the whole situation. I've tried looking him up on the internet, but he has such a generic name, I wouldn't know where to begin. My last hope in finding him would be to hire a professional company to find him. We'll see what I come up with, and I'll keep you informed.

April's Fitness Blog

2010-11-09T21:04:00.000-06:00

In addition to this blog, I have started a fitness blog. "Impossible is Nothing: A Health and Fitness Experiment." The blog will be something for me to be accountable to while working out, and swap health and fitness information with other readers. Check it out at http://aprilsfitblog.blogspot.com/

My Summer Sucked: Part 5 of a 3 Part Series

2010-11-01T21:00:00.000-05:00

The Cat, the Car and a Cop:

The car was jam-packed like kids in a candy store on allowance day. I had to fold and stuff myself into my seat, because I was as far forward as it would possibly go to fit the car carrier. The trunk spilled over with my mom’s belongings; I’m surprised we were able to shut it and not have to tie down the trunk to keep it closed. Incidentally, this would have fabulously matched the window we had to duct tape shut!

The real fun began when the car threw a tantrum about being in his cage with in the first 15 minutes of the trip. He wanted no part of being cooped up, and meowed for two hours straight! You would think we could have turned up the radio to drown out the noise. But no. George screamed louder and louder just to spite us. When I finally thought my ear drums were going to explode, I gave in and let him out to sit in my lap. Relief! George’s anxiety flew out the window and he was finally able to relax. He calmly sat in my lap purring, napping and shedding for a good three hours. The, his ADD Kicked in. George was in a frenzy and wanted out of the car. He slipped passed me making a B-line for Michael’s feet. Did I mention we happened to be driving down a three-lane highway in the middle of the city? The scene was madness. The cat was howling, I was screaming, Michael was yelling and lifting up his feet. I tried to reach across Michael to grab George, but he kept hunkering further back towards the pedals, and my head kept bumping the steering wheel. “I can’t grab him” I yelled! Red Light! Michael slammed on the breaks nearly missing the cat and my fingers. I was able to grab George and fling him back in his cage. Success! This time I was going to wait until we were out of city limits to take him out of the cage.

About 30 miles west of El Paso, George was calmly seated in my lap. But, surprise (!) - He began to get antsy. I let him wander into the back seat where he couldn’t wedge himself under Michael’s feet. George made himself comfortable by burrowing in between my mom’s belongings. When he was bored with his hiding spot, he decided to crawl into the floorboard behind my seat. I didn’t mind because he was comfortable and more importantly wasn’t crying.

Fifteen miles East of El Paso, we noticed signs bordering the side of the road exclaiming "If Lights are flashing you MUST Exit Now”. Of course, the lights were flashing, so we indeed HAD to exit. Border Patrol. My mind began to swirl, "We are in a car that isn't registered to either one of us, and it's full of stuff that technically isn't ours, and there is a cat roaming around the car. Grrreeaaat." We had little warning, before we had to exit. Michael slowed down, so I’d have time to unbuckle my seat belt, whip around to the back seat and pull the cat out of his hiding place. More howling ensued as I once again shoved George into his cage. I turned around and threw on my seat belt in time for us to roll up to the trooper’s station. The cat was silent. Michael rolled down his window, and I held my breath and prayed the cat would keep quiet.

"Hello sir, what's your citizenship?" asked the trooper right off the bat.

"American," answered Michael. (I later told Michael it was a good thing I wasn't driving, because I would have blurted out "Texan!" I figure any proud Texan would have!)

"Is this your car?" he asked looking, it up and down and pointing to the Arizona state license plate.

"No sir, it's my mother-in-law's car, her mother’s (pointing to me).She passed away in Arizona and we are driving her car back to our home.”

The officer peered in the window, and looked the car up and down once more.

"Ok sir, you're free to go," said the officer nonchalantly.

Hallelujah! I thought he was going to pull us inside the trooper’s station and grill us about the car and the items in the car that didn’t belong to us.

The remainder of the drive was predictable and boring. The cat sat in my lap for a few hours, then would roam around the back seat of the car. Michael and I listened to music as the scenery changed from beautiful mountains, to brown desert.

We made it through the funeral and finally made our way home. Even now we are still winding down from the destruction of this summer’s tidal wave of pain and heartache.

My Summer Sucked: Part 4 of a 3 Part Series

2010-10-17T19:59:00.000-05:00

Part 4: Tickets and Travel

After hearing of my mom's passing, I no longer cared about being in Hawaii. The only thing on my mind was getting to my family in Arizona, and I didn’t want to take an eight hour plane ride to see them either! I wanted to beam there in a millisecond and hug every single one of them as hard as I could. But alas, our technology isn’t yet as advanced as Star Trek, so we had to travel the way the Wright brothers intended.

Our first plan of action was to cancel our original return trip tickets from Hawaii to Texas. Then, we needed to book next-day tickets from Hawaii to Arizona. Talk about expensive! Remember the credit card with the considerably sized spending limit that was stolen? And, remember how we were unable to have a new one mailed to us before we left for Hawaii? Yeah, I think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, this would have been a PERFECT time to use it!
Instead, we had no choice but to max out our smaller credit card.

Michael hopped on the horn with Expedia (Dot Com!), who we book all of our travel arrangements through, to explain our situation. While working with the ticket agent, she interrupted him mid-sentence, and exclaimed, “Sir, I have to stop you right there! Ticket prices have actually just increased in the 10 minutes we have been speaking. I have to start the booking process over.” Michael was bewildered! It was the middle of the day and ticket prices transitioned to ‘day-of’ fares and had skyrocketed. Figures! As difficult and expensive as it was, Michael finally managed to construct flight arrangements to Arizona. The day and a half flight plan we faced was: Maui to Honolulu, Honolulu to Los Angeles, and Los Angeles to Arizona. Prepare for sleep deprivation stiff plastic chairs, blinding fluorescent lights and airport food!

I have to take a moment to brag on Expedia. They had the kindest customer service agents! They were very sympathetic towards our situation, friendly and willing to help out any way they could. They also lead us in the direction to receive a refund for the remainder of the trip.

The flight from Honolulu to Arizona was decent. We had plenty of leg room, and the seats were furnished with pillows and blankets. The evening’s entertainment, (at least I thought it was the evening,) consisted of Iron Man II and several mediocre sitcoms that made me smile just enough to distract me. The flight from Los Angeles to Arizona however, was dreadful - miniature sized seats, placed right on top of each other. Not to mention the aisle that was barely big enough to fit the drink cart and the unenthused fly attendant trudging along behind it. There was nothing to distract me - no movies, no sitcoms. I was there with my own thoughts swirling and tumbling in my head. I began to cry, which turned into heaving sobs. The silence was unbearable. I wanted to be back in Hawaii but with my mom. She loved the beach. I slowly began to gain my composure as I thought of my mom now able to lounge on a beach somewhere with my grandmother (her mom), drinking mai tais and laughing. For a brief moment my heart lifted and I was able to smile.

My wonderful cousin collected us at the airport and took us to her mom's house where Michael and I stayed and regrouped for the next few days. While staying there, my family was incredibly supportive. They made me feel so loved and cherished. They even took Michael and me out to dinner on our five-year anniversary. My aunt went through old family photos with me and explained a little about who each person was, and a little bit of who they were. The stories were so uplifting. I was enthralled and couldn’t get enough of my family’s antics. She also told me the little bit about my dad that she knew (which I'll get to in a later blog). There was so much love in the house that it was hard to be sad. I wanted to prolong my trip, and stay with my family.

Unfortunately, we had to continue on to Texas for the funeral. The catch - we couldn't fly this time. We had to cram all of my mom’s possessions and George her cat in the car, put the pedal to the metal and drive!

A Side Note

2010-10-07T20:33:00.001-05:00

I don’t want to sound like an after-school special, but if you know someone who is depressed and hurting, please get them help! Even if the person in need is you, know that you are not alone in this world. There are people out there that love you very much and will be affected by your death. And if you still can’t believe that, God loves you very much. I only tell this story because I want people to learn from it. People who commit suicide think no one loves them or cares about them. My mom was this way and she was completely 100% wrong. She had so many family members that loved her, and because of her death my life and heart will be that much emptier without her.

Check out some of these websites for help and guidance.

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

http://www.save.org/

http://suicidehotlines.com/

My Summer Sucked: A Three Part Series, (Part 3)

2010-10-07T20:29:00.002-05:00

I’ve been struggling with what to write for this third part – it’s the hardest. I was unsure how much I was going to share of my ordeal and what details I might divulge. But if I can let at least one person out there know they aren’t alone in sadness and tragedy, then I will share my story.

Part 3: Maui, and Mom

What a relief! The bed bugs had been sprayed for, our credit card had been canceled and not charged to us, my hives were completely gone and we were about to leave for Hawaii. The tagline for the trip was “If we can just get to Hawaii everything will be alright.”

The plane ride to Hawaii is about 8 hours from Texas.

Panic and a sense of ‘Oh Shit’ washed over me when I made the realization that I had booked us on a three person row instead of a two person. Not only were we going to have to sit with our knees in our face, we had to play the Putrid Porky Man Lottery. Step right up folks, let’s find the worst of the worst to sit next to Michael and April. The more repulsive the better! This was going to be fun. Roulette - only with people. Would the ball land on someone who smelled of beautiful flowers or rotten eggs? Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows. We were some of the first people on the flight, so every greasy, nauseating person I saw, I just KNEW they would be sitting next to me. I sat and waited. Firmly gripping the arm rests, I hunkered down in my seat watching and waiting. As the captain turned the seatbelt sign on, I realized the plane was no longer accepting passengers and Michael and I had a three person bench to ourselves. Hallelujah!

The first days of our trip were wonderful. The smell of the state alone is enough to make you fall into a euphoric state and forget your troubles. The fragrance of the gorgeous Plumeria flower floats throughout the island wafting and swirling in and around your nostrils, tantalizing your senses. Beautiful vivid colors envelop the island and the sound of the waves colliding with the shore wrap your body in a blanket of tranquility. I was ready to pack up and move Maui. Such an enchanting place!

Halfway into our trip, Michael and I hopped in the car and headed miles away from civilization to the heart of Maui. The thought of hiking in a bamboo forest with serene waterfalls, rope-ladders, and cliff jumping was exhilarating. Needless to say our hike was a blast!

After the hike, I noticed I had two phone messages from an aunt in Arizona and another message from an aunt in Texas. I immediately knew something was wrong. My heart began to pound in my ears as a wave of heat crashed down upon me. I didn’t even listen to the voice messages.

I immediately called my aunt in Arizona first, because my mom was staying with her. She was sobbing uncontrollably and I couldn’t understand a word she said. The phone was passed to a voice I didn’t recognize. The voice told me my mom had committed suicide. I didn’t know what to do. I felt as if I had taken a blow to the gut with a wrecking ball. I looked at Michael and shook my head, telling him she was gone. Our trip was over in an instant. I was no longer in paradise. I was in hell. I began to sob as we drove back to the hotel. I wanted to scream and shout, but all I could think was, “How dare she? How selfish!” I was in shock. I called her everyday just to hear from her and catch up. I loved talking to her. She was my best friend, and more importantly she was my mom. Every girl needs their mom. My heart has been ripped apart and fed to the dogs. There is now emptiness in my soul that will never be filled. In an instant my world had been changed forever.

When we returned to the hotel, all I could do was lie on the bed, listening to the ocean crash upon the shore. It was soothing.

My Summer Sucked: A Three Part Series, (Part 2)

2010-10-02T23:16:00.005-05:00

Part 2 - Stolen Cards and Steroid Shots

In the midst of our bed bug fiasco, the credit card company called Michael to warn him of potential fraudulent charges made to our card. Tiffany’s Jewelry store was the culprit. Michael smiled, and informed her that he indeed made two tiffany’s purchases for his wife. (Yup that’s right, for our five year anniversary, I was handed not one, but TWO little turquoise boxes!) before she hung up, she had a nonchalant “by the way/oh yeah” moment. “Oh! And by the way, there is also a charge on your account for fifty-five cents for [such and such] company.” Michael didn’t recognize the purchase, but asked them to keep watching the account.

We pushed the call out of our minds for the time being, knowing we had worse problems to deal with.

While still prepping for the upcoming bed bug spray, Michael and I had to continue on with our daily lives, including doctor’s appointments. The doctor’s visit this particular time for me was different. She decided to give me a medication I had never taken before. Over the next few days I continued to take the medicine without any concern. However, the morning of the third day on the drug, I woke up to small red hives blanketing my chest, stomach, legs and arms. They itched and burned with such intensity that I not only gave myself bruises while scratching, I drew blood! I felt as if I had taken a bath in poison ivy, and then used the poison leaves to dry off!

I HAD to see a doctor; the hives were out of control. The longer I waited to see a doctor, the more agonizing the pain. After work, I hightailed it to the nearest walk-in clinic. After 30 minutes, and several bruises later, I was finally able to see the doctor. As soon as he saw the hives, he “knew for a fact” that I had contact dermatitis. This meant that the new fabulous new lotion I had just purchased had to go because I was “allergic to it”. It never occurred to him, the new drug I was taking could be the culprit. To ease the hives, his nurse gave me a steroid shot in the butt, a prescription for an anti-biotic and an anti-itch medicine, and sent me on my way. Within a few hours of the shot, the itching and hives subsided, and I was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief – for now.

Things were beginning to look up. We were making huge strides with the bed bug preparation, and my rash began to subside. Well, talk about counting your chickens before they hatch! In the middle of shoving clothes into a plastic bag, Michael received another call from the credit card company. Yet again, they were under suspicion that our card was being used without our permission. This time it was for an $800 charge for a resort in South America. It was official; someone had stolen our credit card number. Not only did we have to cancel the card, but we had to do it two days before our vacation in Hawaii! There was NO way we were going to have the new one to us before we left. This was our emergency credit card with the larger spending limit that we used exclusively for traveling. We really didn’t want to go on vacation without it, but didn’t have a choice.

As we were winding up our week long bed bug preparation, my hives came back, and this time full force with a vengeance. It was not to be stopped! I had giant welts on my face around my eyes, and along my jaw line, and my ear lobes were as big as grapes. Pretty! The hives popped back up on my stomach, arms and chest, and this time they spread to my back. I couldn’t sleep or concentrate and my whole body felt like it was on fire. I had finished the last of my anti-itch medicine, so back to the doctor I went – same walk-in clinic, different doctor. As soon as he saw my face and stomach, he said that it was a reaction to a drug. Ding! Ding! Ding! He hit the nail right on the head. I’m still not completely sure why the first doctor didn’t catch that, but I’m sure glad this one did! This meant another steroid shot in the butt, more anti-itch pills, a steroid pill, and the immediate discontinuation of the new medicine.

I was hive free within a few days, even though I still had battle scars from the intense scratching. The bug company sprayed for the bed bugs just in time for our five year anniversary trip to Hawaii. Aloha!

My Summer Sucked: A Three Part Series, (Part 1)

2010-09-25T20:47:00.008-05:00

This summer has been a complete tidal wave of mass destruction. I felt as if I were drowning in a sea of horrible news. Every time I thought something was about to go my way, I’d get bashed down again. I can only take so much before I have a huge mental break down.

Part 1 – Don’t Let the Bed Bugs Bite
If you’ve ever wondered if bed bugs were real, I can tell you from personal experience - they are very real. They don’t live in a land with the unicorn and boogie man, unfortunately. They live in our world and invaded my house!

Getting rid of the tiny vampires is a giant pain in the ass. Before you can even THINK about the pest control people spraying for them, you have to ‘prep’ the rooms you want treated. And let me just tell you, this isn’t like prepping to paint - this goes far beyond those reaches and into the world of insanity. First, you have to wash every bit of washable fabric in the room from bedding, to towels, to every single piece of clothing you own. And, not just the clothes you have worn recently, but EVERY individual piece; from undergarments, to suits, to those skinny jeans you’re hiding in the back of your closet for when you ‘drop 10 pounds’. We completed 50-60 loads of laundry! Once the clothes are finished drying, forget about putting them away. We immediately shoveled the clothes from the dryer to plastic garbage bags and dumped the bags into the garage. This method of madness was to prevent the blood-sucking miscreants from creeping their way back on our clothes and hatching eggs. If this wasn’t enough laundry, you should have seen our dry cleaning bill!

After we finished the laundry portion of the bed bug preparation, we had to move onto the physical items. Everything that wasn’t large furniture, and that couldn’t go in the wash, also had to be placed in garbage bags and moved in to the garage. Apparently, the exhausting Texas summer heat is supposed to kill the bugs and their eggs. As you can imagine, our garage was (and still is) bursting at the seams with 60+ garbage bags. Our room was completely empty and looked like we had packed up and moved to Hawaii instead of just vacationing there ¬ but I’ll get to that ‘Part’ of my awful summer later.

This extensive process took a week to accomplish and was quite expensive. Thankfully I was able to stay home for two days from work to help prepare.

Now that our room was bare, we were able to have the exterminators destroy the nasty insects. So, as of now, we are bug free, but our home remains a disaster zone. I feel like we should have the yellow “Keep Out” tape around our house. We still have bags all over the place and in the garage, but we are slowly trying to “move” back into our room.

So, how the hell did we acquire bed-bugs? We picked up the hitchhikers by traveling. They can cling to your clothes and your luggage from a hotel room bed or suitcase stand. If you take away ONE thing from this blog, ALWAYS inspect the hotel bed that you are staying in. The bugs leave traces behind, such as blood and droppings on bed sheets. The bugs are visible – about as big as a tick. The bites hurt and killing them is an awful, expensive process. I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy. We found out they feed on human blood and can live up to one year on a single bite! Talk about gruesome. (I may be leaning toward Team Jacob after this escapade.)

http://www.bedbugsguide.com/bed-bug-bites.htm

This is a great website. Educate yourself! Don’t let these horrid stowaways plague your home!

Do You Like Crane?

2010-06-23T21:27:00.000-05:00

Last weekend Michael and I had the good fortune of spending the weekend with his parents in West Texas. While we were there, they wanted to take us out to a family-friendly, western dance, throw-down in a town about 20 miles away, in what us urban folk might call ‘the sticks’. Michael and I are always game for new experiences, so we laced up our dancin’ shoes, and piled in the car.

The dance was held in the town’s only high school in the gym, which doubled as the auditorium. It was a long, narrow room with wooden-bleachers lining the west wall, and a stage on the far side. Hanging opposite the stage was a basketball goal, minus the basket. There were four or five ceiling fans twirling as hard and fast as they could go from the 50-foot ceiling. Think Hoosiers, but smaller, dimmer and mustier.

The live band trio (fiddle, electric keyboard –which included a very consistent drum machine, slide guitar, and laptop), were set up on the floor in front of the stage. The ‘dance floor’ was lined with at least a hundred folding chairs, of which maybe ten were occupied. Off to the side of the gym was a kitchen area with a microwave, sink, oven and a large table-seating area for 30-40 people. Every Friday night, they not only held a western dance shindig, but a pot-luck dinner.

Michael and I immediately took to the dance floor like we owned the place. Twirling about, I noticed a cute little girl, about nine or ten, walk in with her parents. She was wearing a snazzy, glittery, purple dress and a big pink bow that held up half of her brown hair. The mother-figure, who looked much too old to be just her mother, was dressed in white slacks, with four-inch heels, and a flowered blouse that matched the flower she wore in her curled hair. The father-figure was dressed in a burnt orange Texas Longhorns button up shirt that he tucked into his wranglers. He of course, topped the look off with his over-sized belt buckle and cowboy boots. This was their night out on the town.

The girl in the purple dress came over to talk to me. She started off by telling me all about her recent night-time fishing venture where she caught “a huge, five-pound striper fish.” I nodded, smiled, and she kept on, “Do you like crane?”

I had no idea what she was talking about; the first thing that came to my mind was the city of Crane, TX.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The bird” she scoffed, in a condescending tone.

Not wanting to sound anymore incompetent in front of a ten-year old, I nodded back at her with a smile, “Oh, well sure.” All the while, I thought, I suppose they could be considered a nice, pretty bird.

“Well, do you like potatoes?” she excitedly asked.

“Uh, of course.”

“Well, we brought crane and potato stew tonight,” she said proudly as she eyed the doorway to the kitchen area. “I even helped with peelin’ the potatoes; you have to try it!”

I was literally wide-eyed and speechless, and I’m sure my jaw dropped, even if just a little. I just told this little girl I like to eat crane! Where the hell did they get a crane?!

As soon as the band stopped playing and said they were going to take a break, she yelled “DINNER TIME!” and ran off into the kitchen.

Needless to say, I didn’t try her stew, but we did have a great time dancing around the auditorium to old country & western songs.

Sea World - Memorial Weekend

2010-06-07T21:23:00.003-05:00

For Memorial Day weekend, Michael and I made our way to Sea World in San Antonio. We had a blast running around the park as if we were 10 years old again. It was a fabulous way to spend a three-day weekend.

A few highlights from our trip:

Petting and feeding tank.

Soaking wet from a much welcomed water ride.

Adorable Sea Lions.

The Sea Otters were my absolute favorite! Maybe that is because they look like my cat Henry when we have to give him a bath.

A Nice person offered to take our picture

I enjoy taking pictures of oddities: We witnessed the below on our drive home

On our way home, we found that every cloud has a silver lining.

Things My Mama Taught Me: Bee Removal - a How To

2010-05-25T23:23:00.002-05:00

Dear April,

When confronted with a large infestation of bees outside your home, I’ve found it’s best to follow these simple steps to remove the insects.

Step 1: Make sure that your aunt (who is deathly allergic to bees) is safe and secure inside the house with her EpiPen.

Step 2: Do not call the city! I repeat do NOT call the city! If they find out you are about to destroy a bee hive, they can hand you a hefty fine.

Step 3: Once you realize that you will have to take matters into your own hands, wander aimlessly around the yard to locate the hive.

Step 4: When you realize the flurried mass in your tree is not a hive, but is a swarm of 1,000 or more bees, run back into the house – you’re going to need reinforcements.

Step 5: Recruit your other aunt, who has a bad hip, but is not allergic to bees.

Step 6: Once you’ve established back-up, you’re going to need to proper attire. This includes:

Two pair of pants – a pair of blue jeans underneath a nice stretchy pair of sweat pants
Several pair of socks - two or three really thick ones ought to do, they really don’t even have to match
The thinnest pair of KEDS you can find – although you may have to sacrifice one of your pairs of socks…tough choice
Three shirts – an undershirt, a long sleeved shirt, and a collared button-down shirt to top it off
A thick winter scarf to protect your neck
A “robber’s mask” to cover your face
Two hats – a toboggan to cover your ears and a lovely, purple hat that was hand-crocheted (just in case you don’t feel pretty enough)
A pair of pink garden gloves
Rubber bands to go around your wrists and ankles to make sure you are sealed air tight!

Step 7: Now that you’re suited up, you’re going to need to bust out the heavy artillery - a ladder, a pole, a t-shirt, a metal trash can, and a lighter – you may need some lighter fluid to get things going.

Step 8: Set up the ladder and the metal trash can under the throng of bees.

Step 9: Tie the t-shirt to the pole and light it on fire. – Once the shirt is good and burnin’, put it out. You are going to want the shirt to generate quite a bit of smoke.

Step 10: Hold on to the ladder, allowing your aunt to climb the ladder with the smoking t-shirt pole in tow. Your goal here is to smoke the bees out of your yard without killing them (don’t worry, this is Wikipedia approved).

Step 11: Once you have completed Step 10, don’t pat yourself on the back just yet. The bees will likely find other parts of your yard to nest in. This is normal. Grab the ladder, trash can, and smoking t-shirt pole and repeat Step 10. – You will need to run around the yard repeating Step 10 until you come to grips with the fact that the bees have outsmarted you.

Step 12: Call in the cavalry. (What you should have done in the first place) Arm your twenty-something cousin with bug spray and let him ambush the unsuspecting bees.

Hope this helps,

Love,
Mom

Once Upon a Time...

2010-05-11T21:33:00.000-05:00

One of my best friends is absolutely, undeniably in love with all things Disney. (I believe this stems from wishing life was a fairy tale – but then again, don’t we all?) Her kitchen is decorated in full Mickey decor, her dog’s name is Daisy, she owns just about every Disney movie you can fathom – and ones you can’t, she interned at Disney World for a summer, and goes to Disney World any and every chance she gets. She’s dressed as nothing but Disney Princesses for Halloween, and has even joked about having her bridesmaids dress as Disney Princesses at her wedding. This girl is obsessed! So, you can imagine when the newest “Disney on Ice” show came through town the weekend of her birthday, she was ecstatic! (And yes, she has seen all the other performances!)

My friend asked if anyone wanted to accompany her to the show for her birthday festivities, surprisingly everyone turned her down. (Don’t worry; we did something else spectacular for her birthday.) Her boyfriend decided to step up to the plate and buy her tickets to Disney on Ice. He purchased the tickets online at TicketMaster, printed out the tickets, and tucked them away.

The date of the event rolled around and the boyfriend presented my friend with her ticket. I can just imagine her jumping up and down, squealing with sheer excitement, until…she looked at the ticket. In big bold letters in the middle of the ticket, read: DISNEY ON ICE – SPANISH VERSION!

The Electric Cowboy

2010-04-21T22:45:00.000-05:00

My friends and I were itching to go dancing one evening. Being that Billy Bob’s was sold out, we decided on a little joint called The Electric Cowboy. We’d never been there before, so we were a bit anxious about finding the place. Staring out the car windows, my girlfriends and I were fixated on locating the bar. Nearing the “sketchy part of town,” I almost instructed the driver to make a U-turn but, before I could summon any words to my mouth, there it stood in the middle of a strip mall flashing pink and blue neon lights. Raising an eyebrow, all I could think was, we might be over-dressed for this place.

We walked up to the door and, lo and behold, there stood… a hotdog cart! The shimmering spectacle was a drunkard’s paradise …. OK, now I was sure of it, we were over dressed. In spite of our short skirts, leather jackets, and Texas-sized hair, we warily entered the bar.
Once inside, we were immediately greeted with a blast of suffocating cigarette smoke. The bar was foggy, musty and small, but held an adequate sized dance floor, three overly crowded pool tables and two bars. Not to mention, the average age was about 10 years our senior.

We hurriedly found a table in the corner and began to people-watch. Upon further inspection, we witnessed: women wearing nipple tassels over their shirts; old men “dropping it like it’s hot”; guys sporting head-to-toe Abercrombie garb; wannabe heroin-chic, anorexic girls; and of course, the obvious – old, country men who didn’t know how to two-step. Classy!

After too many ‘Long Islands’, one of the girls sprinted to the restroom. When she returned, her face was a mishmash of traumatized amusement. “You’ll never guess what I just heard in the stall next to me.” In the gruffest smoker’s voice she could muster, she mimicked, “All he has to do is get it up and get it out, that’s all I need.” We all stared at her in wide-eyed wonderment before we died laughing. “I don’t think I’ll need to use the bathroom again anytime soon,” she laughed.

As the night went on, all of us were out on the dance floor gettin’ down with our bad selves. I was swinging and twirling one of my girlfriends around the dance floor when an older couple asked if they could cut in. The husband took my hand, and the wife took my friend’s. After a few minutes of uncoordinated, awkward silence, the man said, “My wife’s been admirin’ your friend all night.” Flabbergasted, I tripped all over myself, (and him). Picking my jaw up off the ground I spat out, “Umm…. ok.” I suppose he felt he needed to clarify, as he went on to say, “Oh, well not like that, she just thinks your friend’s reeaal purdy.”

Before I could respond, my friend grabbed me and we made a B-line for our table. “That was a bizarre experience,” commented my friend. “That lady didn’t say one word to me while we were dancing. Then, she stopped abruptly, looked at me and said, ‘ok I’m done.’”

I countered with, “Okay, so she was totally hitting on you!!”

“Whatever. The guy wanted to dance with you,” she said brushing the situation off.

“No, no, she wanted to dance with you” I chuckled and divulged the conversation the husband and I shared. “Some women just dig skirts,” I teased.

“I am so wearing pants next time!”

“You say that like we’re coming back,” I said half-joking.

We decided it was time to go before more women starting hitting on the rest of the group. I was at the bar cashing out, when a drunk guy grabbed me by the waist, and drug me over to his table. I tried to grab onto one of my girls, but the guy was too fast.

Swaying from side to side, he announced, “My friend here thinks you’re hott.” Squirming to get free I told him thanks, but I had to go. He didn’t hear me, “His name is [don’t remember, don’t care], and he wants your number.” By this time one of my friends found me and tried yanking me out of the situation. The drunk guy’s friend was quite embarrassed by the whole ordeal and found another direction to look.
Completely fed-up I said, “I’m married and I have to go!” With my friend’s help, we were able to pry out of drunk guy’s grasp. Silly me, I was worried about the women hitting on us!

“Let’s get the hell outta here!” Everyone was in unanimous agreement.

Easter Memories

2010-04-02T20:19:00.000-05:00

My aunt and uncle had the unfortunate fortune of hosting Easter weekend for most of the family. I was 4 years old and remember there being 6 other children and 5 other adults crammed into the house. However, out of the other kids in the house, I was the youngest and the only one left who wholeheartedly, without a doubt believed in the Easter Bunny.

Easter Eve rolled around and my mom and I had an air mattress set up in the living room. It was about 3:00 am, and I was already fast asleep dreaming of pink and white bunnies, and fuzzy Easter chicks. My mom and aunt were still awake, gabbing and pulling Easter Bunny duty. When my mom finally decided to come to bed, my eyes shot open. From my mattress in the living room, I had a great vantage point of the kitchen table and it was crammed full of Easter baskets! My heart began to race and fill with intense excitement. I was short of breath and butterflies filled my stomach. “Oh my God, the Easter Bunny has been here!” I couldn’t just lie there anymore. I HAD to see what wonderful surprises the Easter Bunny brought me. I began to squirm. My mom restrained me, trying to make me fall back asleep. Every fiber of my being wanted to jump up and claim the baskets full of treasure. I was in complete and utter agony. Wriggling even more, my mom finally gave in and let me get up. I ran to the table as if my booty was on fire and the only way to extinguish it was in those baskets! The scene was the most exquisitely beautiful site I had ever laid my eyes on. The bright, colorful baskets were overflowing with all sorts of astonishing toys, and brilliantly wrapped candy. I was shaking as I began to snatch up and rummage through all 6 of the baskets. By that time, my aunt and mom were awake and in the kitchen trying to pry all of the baskets out of my hands. My aunt unwillingly went to wake up the entire household so we could celebrate Easter at 3:30 in the morning. Unfortunately, I had to share, and was only allowed to have one basket, but I tore into it like the Tasmanian Devil.

After the festivities ended, everyone went back to sleep…except me. I was so wound up and certainly wasn’t finished celebrating. There were still Easter eggs that needed to be found! I waited until I could tell my mom was asleep and I crept out from underneath the covers. I grabbed my basket and emptied the remnants on the floor, took it in the nook of my elbow, and slipped out the front door. I knew that if I didn’t get a head start on the other kids, I wouldn’t have a chance at finding any eggs. So, the hunt was on! I was on the most important mission of my four-year existence, and loaded that plastic basket with as many eggs as I could find. My excitement came to a halt when my uncle came outside and found me running around in my onesie, with my soaked socks hanging half-off my feet, completely disheveled. He didn’t dare tear me away from the eggs I so desperately wanted to find. Instead, he went to wake up my mom so she could deal with me. I did get to keep the eggs I found, but I had to stop hunting in order for everyone else to have something to find.

I don’t remember much else from that particular Easter. That is probably because I was busy catching up on the sleep I lost in the dawning hours of my sugar-high.

Happy Hunting!

Drivers Beware

2010-03-28T18:47:00.001-05:00

Getting to my job these days is like trying to get work done on a Friday at 4:00 – damn near impossible. If you live in a city with over 500,000 people you know what I’m talking about. It’s that long, treacherous drive that has you screaming, and flailing about in your car just as if you hit that nasty bump in a runaway roller-coaster. It’s also the same drive that brings you to the brink of insanity, crushes your good judgment and has you flipping off the little, old lady, who didn’t use her blinker and just cut you off. (And yes, I believe she is indeed from Pasadena).

When I first moved to Fort Worth, the traffic scared the HELL out of me. I come from a town of 90,000 people and no freeways. I was clueless. When a Fort Worth driver would zoom past me, I could have sworn the speed limit was 100 miles an hour. Every time someone slammed on their breaks, whether it was the car in front of us, or the car I was in, I thought we were all going to die! People zipped in and out of traffic as if they were trying to escape the wrath of Godzilla. The highway was a daunting jungle of wild automobiles. Steel tyrants locked in an ongoing battle – winner take all!

But one day, out of nowhere, I unknowingly flipped a mental switch. I know longer cowered behind the steering wheel of the car, praying to God to get me from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ in one piece. I had transformed into one of the steel tyrants I had previously loathed. I had become… a METROPELX DRIVER! (Cue triumphant music.)
Now that the road rage has settled in, it is undoubtedly a part of the way I drive. I can’t get over the fact that my morning drive is littered with incompetent drivers – the kind of people who feel the need to drive under the speed limit, fail to use their blinker, sit in my blind spot, and make me late. I’m usually pretty good at being late all on my own, so I don’t need any extra help. Frequently, I have a serious urge to pull a “Grand Theft Auto” on their inept ass, and run them off the road… (It’s quite possible I played too many video games growing up.) Maybe then, they’ll get the picture to get out of my way. Oh, it makes my head hurt!

I know that you must be thinking that you would not want to be out on the road when I am, and I must be some crazy woman driver. Well, guess what... I am! Now I am that fanatical woman driver that you should be afraid to be sharing the road. Passive drivers beware!

Out of Hibernation

2010-03-22T21:49:00.005-05:00

It has been a while since I decided to put my fingers to the keyboard and write. Can’t say why I’ve stopped; I suppose I could blame it on the fact that I’m just “sooo busy,” but we all know that would be a lie.

Hmm, I guess it’s more out of sheer laziness than anything. My brain has been on hiatus. I get home from work, and all I want to do is curl up on the couch and ‘veg’ out in front of the TV. Not that you should blame me for my lethargy - I have quite a comfy couch, not to mention soft, fluffy blankets in which I can create a warm, cozy nest.

Also, I’m not sure why I came out of hibernation. It may have something to do with the fact that I have a place to write now – a place to sit and let my creative juices flow. Before, I lugged my laptop from room to room if I wanted to use it. I know this is the point of a laptop, but that’s just too much work for a lazy human being. But, at last I have a home for my world wide web. No more hauling around, plugging/unplugging, and no more rescuing it from unaware feet in the middle of the floor. Michael and I have finally finished sanding and staining our gorgeous shelving/desk unit in the living room.

When I walked into the living room for the first time after it was complete, I could almost swear the heavens parted and a ray of light beamed down directly over the newly completed workstation. Disregarding the fact that the ‘heavenly glow’ was actually a strategically placed track-light, I hypnotically walked over, sat down, and began to type.

The Great Office War

2009-06-10T19:37:00.003-05:00

If you work in an office, you will understand the awesomeness of the following video...

VOTE for Cousin's BBQ

2009-05-23T09:05:00.001-05:00

Good Morning America is hosting a "Best BBQ Challenge" this weekend and Cousin's Bar-B-Q in Fort Worth has been nominated. The restaurant is one of four nominated for the award and the only one from Texas (the others hail from Iowa, Alabama and New York).

If anyone of you have eaten at Cousin's, you know that they make Texas proud. They're Bar-B-Q is amazing! You can vote by going to Cousin's Bar-B-Q website and clicking on the link at the top. Voting ends late tonight and the winner will be announced tomorrow morning.

Make Texas Bar-B-Q #1!!

So Sayeth the Soothsayer

2009-05-14T21:13:00.007-05:00

When the 2009 baseball season began I made the Premonition that the Texas Rangers would make it to the playoffs. Now, a fifth of the way through the season, my prediction is holding up to be true. The Rangers’ record sits at 20-14 and they have sole possession of first place in the AL West. Simply Amazing!

Hank Blalock and Chris Davis have been smashing out homeruns, and Elvis Andrus’ fielding has been phenomenal. The Rangers also collectively have 26 steals, including 7 double steals in 34 games. Not to mention, the starting rotation has been lights out. They have been walking fewer batters and pitching deep into the ballgames (on a consistent basis!). The pitching staff is a huge chunk of the reason why the team is in first place. Our pitching coach, Mike Maddux, has been working wonders. (And it’s only his first year on staff!) And, it doesn’t hurt that Nolan Ryan is the President of the Rangers - his advice is always welcome in the club house.

I would also like to state for the record that Elvis Andrus is going to be Rookie of the Year and/or win the Gold Glove at shortstop.

Check these awesome defense plays made by 'The King' himself:

Elvis Andrus' plays

You Don't Mess with the Henry Cat!

2009-05-13T21:01:00.003-05:00

The other night, I was sitting on my couch watching TV when out of the blue I hear cat screams coming from the backyard. Naturally, I threw on my shoes and flew out the door. With Michael close behind, we ran outside just in time to see my cat Henry entangled with a stray. Fur was flying. They were rolling around clawing, biting and yelling at each other. The two felines were on the deck of our pool, and before we had a chance to break them up, I could have sworn I saw Henry push the black stray into the pool. It was flailing about gulping for air as Henry watched, laughing. I started screaming “GET HIM OUT, MICHAEL!!!! GET HIM OUT OF THE POOL!!!” Michael ran down the steps and into the pool area. The cat was scrambling to get out of the water. It would grab onto the edge of the pool, pull itself up and fall right back in. SPLASH! Michael grabbed the leaf-net and shuffled to the side of the pool the cat was on. His plan was to scoop up the defeated stray into the net and dump him in the yard. But, as Michael would come close to the cat, it would freak out and swim to the other side. So in turn, Michael made his way to the opposite side of the pool. Once again the cat would change its course and swim to a different edge. This took place three or four times before the cat tried to escape one last time. Using every ounce of strength left in his wet body, it pulled itself out of the pool. Once it was free from its watery prison, the cat certainly didn’t stick around to receive any more punishment from us, or Henry for that matter. The black stray looked like a drowned, sickly rat as it darted across our back yard and through a hole in the fence it no doubtedly came through in the first place. This whole ordeal was certainly a site to see. And just as a side note, Henry has a few scrapes and bite marks, but he is fine. This was a battle he definitely won.

Hamsters and Cattle

2009-05-10T00:32:00.004-05:00

I love to watch TV, especially when TIVO is involved becuase most commercials these days are loud and obnoxious. If you've seen any local car dealership commercial, you know what I'm talking about. So what's a girl to do when there isn't a TIVO in site? Well, I have to rely on the rare commercials that actually make me smile and want to turn up the TV. I just so happen to be obsessed with these two commercials. Enjoy!

Kia Soul Hamsters

Mini Sirloin Burgers

My Helping Hands

2009-05-07T18:55:00.004-05:00

One of the girls at work was out sick the other day, so I decided to take on her responsibility of stocking the two refrigerators full of drinks. I grabbed the small hand truck out of the corner of the supply room and started loading up a flat of coke and water. I had a Sprite in my hands and was about to set it on the flat when my butterfingers dropped the Sprite which happened to land on a sharp edge of the dolly.

I’m sure you can guess what happened next. Sprite spewed every which way, including all over me and in my eyes. For a second I felt like I was a part of a slapstick comedy. The kind of comedy where the actor is doused with Lord knows what, trying to shield the projectile with merely their hands, and yet somehow still manages to end up sopping wet. Apparently that’s what happens in real life, because all I could manage to do was hold up my hands in front of my face - a failed attempt to say the least. I was too stunned by the situation to logically doge the Sprite.

I stood there until the whole can finished exploding. While shielding my face, I did manage to scream, which in turn prompted a co-worker to run in with a hand towel. I was soaking wet from the Sprite-shower. I cleaned up myself, the giant puddle of soda on the floor, the liquid running down the walls and the few droplets that managed to make it to the office across the hall. I hung my head and sighed, I still had to actually get the drinks to the refrigerator!

I continued to load up the dolly and headed over to the fridge. It just so happens that to get to the refrigerator you have to pass in front of a conference room with glass walls. So, here I am, all sorts of sticky, pulling a dolly full of water and cokes past the conference room. I really don’t know how what happened next, but the top row of cokes tumbled off the cart. All I could think was, “Oh, sh*t!” Thankfully nothing burst open. But as my luck would have it, at that moment in time, our head honcho boss-guy happened to be in the conference room talking with a VIP. They both turned and stared at me scrambling to pick up the run-away cokes. I was mortified.

I scooped up what I could of the renegade cokes and bolted from the scene. As soon as I was out of sight, I just stood there recovering from my last two mishaps. Heading over to the fridge, I indeed dropped ANOTHER coke! By this point I just had to laugh at myself. Not only was I covered in Sprite, but I loudly interrupted a very important meeting, and I STILL had to go back by the conference room to pick up the dolly that had the rest of the drinks! As I carted the rest the remainder of the drinks to the refrigerator (without further incident), I thought, “This is what I get for trying to help out!”

My Gummy Bear

2009-05-04T21:03:00.005-05:00

For those of you who know me, you are fully aware that I have love affair with candy. Gummy Bears, Gummy worms, jelly beans, taffy. Anything a 12 year old would eat. Yesterday, I found the Grand-Daddy of all gummy bears. I can’t even explain to you my excitement. It was like I was a three year old who just found out she got a pony for Christmas. My eyes were as big as saucers and I think I was drooling all over myself in the store.

(Henry and the Bear)

Look at the size of that Gummy Bear! I’m almost afraid to eat the cherry-red bear because he’s so wonderful and perfect. My mouth is watering just thinking about all that sweet goodness. I’m just wondering when I’m going to fold and chow down on the scrumptious looking Gummy Bear.

I Miss you Josh and Tom

2009-05-03T19:38:00.003-05:00

Tonight, my beloved Rangers Baseball game is on ESPN. The great thing about this is, we are finally getting some national recognition -which is something that the national world of baseball doesn’t like to give us. The bad news about this is we have to listen to the ESPN commentators instead of our adored Josh Lewin and Tom Grieve. Listening to Joe Morgan and John Miller makes me want to shove a screwdriver into my ears. It’s like listening to the slow lull of a golf commentator - quiet and impassionate. As much as I love watching the Rangers play, I’m seriously about to change the channel.

What I love about Josh Lewin is that he is so passionate about the game. He’s exciting and interesting to listen to. He knows so many random facts about Baseball that you walk away from the game saying ‘oh, I never knew that.’ Tom Grieve has a lot of history behind him. He’s been with the Rangers organization over thirty years as a player, a general manager, and now as a commentator. And what he does so beautifully is bring the players aspect to commentating. He’s been in their shoes.

So tonight as I watch the Texas Rangers Battle the Chicago White Sox, know that I’m thinking of you Josh and Tom.

Stupidity or Conspiracy

2009-04-27T21:02:00.007-05:00

If you haven’t seen or heard about the Bowing 747 that flew over the Upper New York Bay near the Statue of Liberty this afternoon, take a gander:

Here's the story from Bloomberg,

and a different take from CNN.

The first thing that comes to mind is “what the in the hell was Louis Caldera thinking?” Well if we are going to stick to the ‘photo op’ story, he apparently wasn’t thinking much of anything, which is obviously outrageous, and unacceptable. But what if the aircraft scare is a cover up for something happening on a much grander scale? Could there be a conspiracy in the works?

There are just too many elements that don’t add up to it being JUST a ‘photo op’. First of all, Mayor Bloomberg had no idea this “photo op” was going to take place. Wouldn’t you think that of all people on the chain of government officials to know what was going on, the Mayor would be at the top of the list? And, why were the police officials told not to say anything to the public? If this was a top secret exercise/mission, then why on earth have it in the middle of one of the most populated metropolises in the country? Did they really think that 6 million people wouldn’t notice the 747 and immediately think disaster? There are too many holes in the government’s story for me to accept as complete truth.

Also, employees who worked near this area were told to evacuate their buildings. They didn’t leave on their own, they were told. By whom, I’m not sure, I just know for a fact that is what happened. When the employees returned to their offices they had an email sitting in their in-box saying something to the effect of “there will be a plane flying low near the buildings, don’t worry…” Blah. Blah. Blah. Interestingly enough, the email was time stamped an HOUR after the air craft made its appearance. Again, not sure who the email was from, all I know is that’s what happened.

So you have to ask yourself: Is the government incompetent enough to allow a low-flying air craft around New York City without considering the ramifications of such a decision? Or, does the government in fact think the public is going to believe this cockamamie story to be true?

The Season of Flip Flops

2009-03-28T12:09:00.003-05:00

I was so excited when the first day of Spring rolled around. I went to Target and purchased two sundresses. If you know me personally you know that I hardly ever wear dresses or skirts. Reason being is that I tend to sit like a guy, all sprawled out; nothing very lady-like about that at all. Anyway, I decided to give up the sprawled seating because Spring was here. Now that I had the Spring outfit, I needed a pair of shoes to match (don’t judge! It’s what any woman would do.) I headed over to Target’s shoe department. Lo and behold there it was - an entire wall of flip flops! I started drooling. The Hallelujah Chorus played as a heavenly beam of light shown down on them. Every bead and every sequin adorning the shoes sparkled. I love flip flops! If I could wear them every day of the year, to every event, I would. So naturally, I purchased two pair of flip flops and was on my way home to enjoy the season of flip flops.

Time to Walk the Dog

2009-03-22T21:25:00.002-05:00

This past week, Michael and I were officially accepted into the neighborhood – our neighbors asked us to feed and walk their dog, Beau, twice a day, while they ventured off on their spring break vacation. We accepted, took their house keys, feeding instructions and important phone numbers.

Beau is a joyful 14 year old black Labrador mix, who, even though he is deaf, knows exactly when we are on our way up to the door. His big brown eyes peer out of the window by the door. His tongue sloppily hangs out of his mouth while dripping slobber on the tile floor. His tail wag is so ferocious, it consumes his whole body. The closer we get to the door he begins to lift his paws off the ground, lean his head back and bark. Oh he just can’t stand it, he’s so excited! As soon as we open the front door he trots outside into the cul-de-sac. Normally trying to get a deaf dog back into the house, would be a stressful process but before the neighbors left, they informed us, “Beau walks himself.” There are no leashes involved, no tugging or yanking at stubborn dogs and no arms being pulled out of their sockets because a squirrel runs by.

Once Beau finds his way out of the house I usually stay outside by the door, while Michael goes in the house to put down fresh food and water. Beau’s house is in the middle of the cul-de-sac so his route is the same every day –He goes out the front door; turns left, and checks the next-door neighbor’s yard. He then makes his way onto the street perpendicular to the cul-de-sac and makes a left. As Beau is out of site for a while I sift through their over abundance of Shamrocks in hopes of finding a four-leaf clover. No luck. The Lab trots in back in front of the cul-de-sac before he is once again out of site. A few minutes later he comes galloping back into the cul-de-sac, opposite the way he left. Without haste, he runs up to us wagging his tail informing us the neighborhood was copasetic.

As the last day of dog-sitting rolled around, we grabbed the neighbor’s keys and walked next door. The window was empty. I furrowed my brow and walked inside. There was still no sign of Beau. I bit my lip, “maybe he’s out back.” We made our way to the back door and started calling for the deaf dog. “What are we doing, he can’t hear us” I said. I felt silly calling for a dog that couldn’t hear me. We didn’t know what to do and began to worry. It also didn’t help that the previous night I had a dream that Beau had died. We frantically started checking every corner of the back yard. When we didn’t find him, we went back into the house and started clapping and stomping thinking that maybe the vibrations and movement would get his attention. Beau was nowhere to be found.

We had two options left before we had to call the owners and say “yeah we lost your old deaf dog and we can’t find him anywhere.” Option one; we could walk around the neighborhood to see if he had escaped out of the back yard. Option two; we could call the housekeeper to see if she knew anything about the dog’s disappearance. Since walking around the neighborhood calling for Beau seemed a bit ridiculous we opted to call the housekeeper first.

“Yes hi, this is Michael and we are taking care of Beau for the week while his owners are out of town. We..”

“You’re looking for the dog aren’t you?” she asked.

Puzzled Michael answered, “Yes we are. How did you know?”

Apparently the house keeper partook in the same scare of the missing dog when she had come to clean the house the previous day. She too searched the house, neighborhood and backyard trying to find him. After an hour’s worth of no luck, she finally thought to call the neighbors’ son. Frantically, she picked up the phone and asked if he knew the whereabouts of Beau. The son nonchalantly replied, “Oh yeah, I came and got him.” That was all the information he offered up. He didn’t care that she had been hysterically trying to search for Beau and basically asked if that was all she needed from him. The housekeeper was furious. Why hadn’t he left a note simply saying that he took Beau?

“I’m so sorry I didn’t leave you all a note. I was just so hacked that I forgot” she said.

Michael and I breathed a sigh of relief. Beau hadn’t died. He hadn’t chased a very exciting squirrel that happened by. He hadn’t even gotten to his self-guided walk. Beau was safe.

Missy Higgins

2009-02-22T01:03:00.006-06:00

Tonight Michael and I rocked out to Missy Higgins, at the House of Blues in Dallas. If you haven't heard of her before, she is phenomenal! The singer songwriter was crowned with with not one, but two ARIA Awards (Australia's Grammy) as the country's "Best Female Artist." Not to mention her album 'The Sound of White' was Australia's best-selling album of 2005. And album 'On A Clear Night' went certified triple platinum in Australia.

I have put two of my favorite songs up on here for you to view. You'll have to forgive the quality being that they are from YouTube. Also check out her website http://www.missyhiggins.com

Steer

Blind Winter

The Little Things

2009-02-17T20:34:00.005-06:00

If you work an 8 to 5 job, you realize that sometimes it can be difficult to peel yourself out of bed in the morning. Maybe the stacks of papers on your desk have multiplied into mounds, and you literally can’t see over the tops of them. Perhaps you have a looming deadline for a project that you have yet to start because you are out of ideas. Maybe you just stayed up too late watching old re-runs of Happy Days. And, when that damn alarm goes off in the morning you appreciate how warm and comfy your bed is. In spite of everything that goes wrong during the day or how much stress we are under, we find little things that help us make it through the work week. For me the ‘little things’ include:

Bubble wrap from the Staples office supplies box
Beef tenderloin from Edwin, the company chef
Pandora.com’s mystical way of always knowing what song I want to hear
Inside jokes with a co-worker
Wearing jeans on Fridays
Polite, helpful customer service representatives
A great writing pen
A refrigerated red grapefruit with Splenda for breakfast
Crossing off an item on my to-do list
Taco Salad Thursday in the downstairs deli
Having time fly and not realizing I just spent a few hours on a project
An Ice cold Coca-Cola
Ray’s Friday iPod playlist
4:00pm on Friday afternoon
Knowing that when I finally do home, I get to snuggle with my wonderful husband and two cats

Cheers! And here’s to finding your ‘little things’ that help you make it through your work week.

Elevator Etiquette

2009-01-25T13:12:00.003-06:00

I realize that most men pride themselves on being chivalrous and I can appreciate that. But, when being a Prince Charming makes me run behind schedule, that’s when I want to feed you to a fire-breathing dragon. I hate when men try to be courteous to women when entering or exiting an elevator. It may seem like a good idea at the time, but really, you are just hindering everyone from getting to where they are going on time.

It’s quite simple really. Just get on the damn elevator. Don’t try to herd me in the tiny steel box like I’m cattle. And, the longer you stand there and say, “Go on, get on,” nodding your head like the bobble-head doll you are, the elevator’s time sensor goes off and the doors shut! (As if I needed your permission to get on in the first place) Now, I’m stuck in the lobby because you are a moron! You could have at least held the door open while pretending to be Mr. Traffic Cop. When the elevator finally comes back around, I’m forced to make my way to the far back corner because your philosophy is “ladies first.” Pretty sexist don’t you think? I stand at the back of the elevator line for a reason - last one on, first one off. I have the first stop, out of ten. Do you really think I like elbowing my way through everyone so I can go to work? No! But if you like, I can turn it into a game - Pinball! Bing Bing Bing - bouncing off each person as I make my way to the front. Don’t forget the thousand extra points for deflecting off the fat sweaty man. You are a winner! I made it out of the corner and off the elevator without the doors smashing in on me – If only your prize was a swift kick in the ass.

Now, the same idea works when the elevator is full and we have to get off at the main floor. Don’t stand there with your feet super-glued to the ground until the all the women exit. You are in the way! Get off the damn elevator! We can take care of ourselves, I promise you. What do you think we do when an elevator is full of just women? We don’t stare at each other until someone decides to get off. No, we’re selfish! The woman standing at the front gets off first, then the woman behind her gets off, and so on. It’s quite a magical thing to watch and works wonderfully well.

Don’t worry. If you decide to get on the elevator first, or leave first, I won’t hold it against you. In fact, I will smile and hope that you have a wonderful day. Now, if you decide to usher me in or out the elevator, don’t expect a thank you, a smile, or even a glance, because more often then not, you’re making me late. So, if you absolutely must be chivalrous, get your timing down, otherwise bust out your sword and shield and ready your steed.

Cork and Needles

2009-01-18T17:45:00.001-06:00

That’s right! I went through with it and now my nose is adorned with a sparkling diamond. I have been toying with the idea of a nose piercing for a while, and even wore a fake nose ring during Thanksgiving (just to see if I really liked it or just the idea of it). As it turns out, I enjoyed having the glistening stud on my face. As soon as I returned from Thanksgiving, I asked a friend from work to go with me and hold my hand. (I’m a big baby. No shame!) Her eyes lit up as soon as I asked her. “Oh! I’ll take you to the place I got my tattoos, they’ll hook you up!” “Ok. Great! We’ll go Friday after work.” I said. That sealed the deal. The adventure was about to begin.

Before I set out on my quest, I decided to watch YouTube videos of other brave souls who got their noses pierced, (stupidly, I wanted to see how it was done). Friday after work, I drove to my friend’s house, trying to calm myself down. I squirmed in my seat replaying the videos over and over in my head. She was outside her house waiting. “Let’s go before I change my mind.” I yelled out the window. She laughed and hopped in the car.

The waiting area was dark and gloomy. The windows were covered with flyers. A few beams of light managed to force their way through a slot where the flyer’s edges weren’t touching. The air was thick and smoggy almost like a beatnik coffee house, except no one was snapping. There were several people sitting on the black leather couches flipping through tattoo books. As soon as I walked up to the counter, I came face to chest with a giant brick of a man. My eyes widened. He wore thick gnarly dread-locks that fell to the middle of his back, and had a great big bushy beard (Hot Fuzz reference) His face was decked out with eyebrow, lip, and nose piercings, accompanied by a tongue piercing. He also had giant ear gauges. I could literally see the person standing behind him through the gaping holes in his ear lobes . He had colorful sleeve tattoos that blanketed each arm. As he opened his mouth to ask how he could help, all I heard was…“Arrggg Matey, you best be walkin’ the plank down to Davy Jones’ Locker.”

He stood quietly behind the counter waiting for my answer. I snapped out of the Pirate movie I was in and told him I wanted to get my nose pierced. “Ok come with me and have a seat.” He pointed me in the direction of what resembled a black dentist chair that was already reclined. Oh great, we know how much fun I have had at the dentist office as of late. I laid in the chair and stared at the ceiling. As it turns out Black Beard was my piercer. He snapped on some latex gloves and opened a package of sterile needles. Whew this place is indeed sterile. Just when I was about to relax and shut my eyes so I wouldn’t see the giant needle coming at my face, I noticed a black and white print out picture of my piercer holding a small baby. It read “Baby, the other white meat.” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I knew it was a joke, but still a bit disturbing none the less.

This was it. Black Beard was on my left, shoving a thimble sized piece of cork up my nostril, and my moral support was on my right holding my hand. She had her back to me. “Ok, now just relax and take a deep breath.” In went the needle. I started humming, making noise, anything I could do to keep my mind off the pain. I felt like my nose was on fire. My eyes started to water. As the tears streamed down my face, I started squealing. I couldn’t help it; he still hadn’t gotten the needle through my nose yet. Is my nose made of granite? Just get the damn needle through already. I squeezed my friend’s hand harder. ‘POP!’ Finally! The needle penetrated the cartilage and hit the cork. “Ok just one more second.” The piercer reassured me.

“Tell me when it’s over,” yelped my moral support. “My God I HATE needles!”

Just as she said that, a tattoo artist happened to be walking past. “Oh, it’s over, she’s finished,” he said.

My friend took one look at me and started screaming.

“OH MY GOD, That is so NOT cool!”

She turned away in disgust. The tattooist had lied. I still had a 5 inch needle obtruding out of the man-made hole in my nose. By this point, I was no longer just holding her hand but crushing it, and we both were squealing. I’m sure people in the waiting area were staring at us. We were definitely within ear shot.

My cheeks were soaked with tears. (I wasn’t crying, it’s just a reaction to having a needle shoved through your nose.) Black Beard finally prepared the stud and slid out the giant needle. Ah relief. “You’re all finished. Check it out.” I sat up slowly wiping my cheeks with the sleeve of my jacket. The pirate handed me a hand mirror. “Well hey! It’s super cute! Great job!” I leaned over to my friend, “Hey, check it out.” When she realized no one was lying to her, she mustered up the courage to look at me. She smiled and nodded her head in approval.

“Ok here is a Q-tip, in case it starts to bleed on the way home.” Black Beard shoved a Q-tip in my hand and smiled. I raised an eyebrow and took it.

On the way back through the waiting area people were snickering at us. I didn’t care. What had they accomplished? They were just sitting in the waiting room, potentially going to get a tattoo. And, I’m sure half of them were there for moral support. I’d like to see them get jabbed in the nostril without making a peep.

My friend and I said our goodbyes to the pirate piercer and made our way to the car.

“Ok, your next chica!” I joked.

“Hell no!” She refuted. “I effin hate needles. I wanted to pass out when I saw you with that needle sticking out of your nose. That was so not cool!”

Once the pain subsided, about an hour after the ordeal, I was ready to dance the night away and flaunt my shimmery new addition.

Painful Holidays

2009-01-06T00:11:00.000-06:00

Pain is complicated. It can transform you into a completely different person. Pain can make you act like a completely different person, and can turn you into a hermit. The bed or couch is now your Fortress of Solitude. Pain also intensifies anything and everything that grates on your nerves.

A few months ago, I had quite an experience at my dentist office. I was given a medication to make me semi-conscious, and inhaled nitrous oxide to take the edge off - all the while Aerosmith’s “Dream On” over the loud speaker. I was convinced I had taken a time machine back to the 70s. My head was swirling, as I had the sudden urge to wear bellbottoms, display a peace sign and shout “Groovy Man.” While I was flying high on my magic carpet, the dentists proceed to perform a root-canal. The blast from the past style of dentistry didn’t help; my pain level was through the roof. About half way through the root canal, he shut everything down.

“April, I’m going to have to stop. You’re in too much pain. You’ll have to see an Endodontist to finish up the root canal.” I nodded my head and fell asleep in the chair waiting for Michael to pick me up and take me home.

From my understanding, I had half a root canal. Most of the roots and nerve endings were gone, so I wasn’t supposed to be in much pain at all if any. Not true! I was in so much pain, I was miserable. I relayed all of the information to the Endodontist. As he was hunting around in my mouth he said:

“Well it looks like the tooth behind your unfinished root-canal is the one that is causing so much pain. I’m going to give THAT tooth the root canal today. You can come back at a later time so I can finish up the root-canal your dentist started.” I put my face in my hands “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He wasn’t, and he’s the type of Dr. that doesn’t put you under for these sorts of procedures. You’re wide awake. If that news wasn’t enough, I’m super-hard to numb up. For most people it would take a couple of shots of Novocaine in the jaw and around the tooth. But me, oh no, It took six shots around the tooth in the gum, two in the jaw and 2 shots in the actual tooth. To his credit, he is a very good Edodontist and every time he gave me a shot he took it slow and made sure the needles didn’t hurt.

Back home, after the Novocain wore off, I realized my pain level went from a 9 to a 2 (my mouth was still sore from all the shots) I was so relieved.

Now about that half root canal…

The Endodontist’s office told me that I should wait until the beginning of the year when my insurance renewed to finish my second root canal - that is if I could make it about two months without any pain. These suckers are pretty expensive, even when you have insurance.

Christmas day, I woke up in the worst pain. I felt as if someone had taken a pair of pliers and attempted to rip out my tooth, failed, and tried again. It was unbearable. No amount of over-the-counter pain killers would help. Most of Christmas vacation I laid in bed with an ice bag on my face trying to sleep away the pain. I was so depressed, the pain was excruciating. To top things off, Michael’s family was visiting for the holidays. How am I supposed to be a proper hostess when my life is being controlled by pain? I wanted to curl up under the covers and die. There’s nothing worse than a bad hostess in an unintentional awful mood. The pain morphed me into a different person. I was irritable, upset and I felt as if I had no control over my actions.

Even though it wasn’t time for insurance to renew, I called the Endodontist pleading for relief from my misery. They wrote me prescription for Vicodin and moved my appointment this Wednesday, the 7^th (instead of the 14^th.)

That means relief is finally in sight. Only two more days, and the pain will be gone! No longer do I have to be a recluse because I’m miserable. I’ll be able to focus and concentrate. Little insignificant idiosyncrasies won’t infuriate the hell out of me. It’ll be a good day, and my official start to MY New Year. Wish me luck.

Dramatic Look

2008-12-17T11:14:00.002-06:00

I have been laughing at this video for a week now. It's pretty silly, but fun. Turn up your sound for the full effect.

Tis the Season...

2008-12-11T22:28:00.002-06:00

Oh by gosh by golly, It’s time for Mistletoe Holly! So Deck those Halls and Let it Snow, because I’ll be home for Christmas. Since I’ll be Home for the Holidays, I intend on roasting chestnuts by an open fire while settling into the Christmas Season with My Top 4 Christmas Themed Movies.

4. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation: A Dysfunctional Family Christmas. It doesn’t get much closer to home than that! If only real life was as funny as Chevy Chase.

Clark: Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny effin’ Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.

3. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: I realize this isn’t necessarily a Christmas movie, but it does take place during Christmas, and Michelle Monaghan wears a smokin’ hot Santa outfit. Val Kilmer plays ‘Gay Perry’ and Robert Downey, Jr. (Pre-Ironman) is a thief, turned actor. The one-liners will have you laughing until you cry or your sides split open.

Perry: You don't get it, do you? This isn't "good cop, bad cop." This is fag and New Yorker. You're in a lot of trouble.

Harry: Oh Wow. Woo. It's tiny. Is this real?
Perry: Yeah, it's a Derringer. It's loaded. I call it my faggot gun.
Harry: Because...
Perry: Because it’s only good for a couple shots, then you gotta drop it for something better. You asked, Chief.

2. Elf: Will Ferrell in one of his funniest movies, and Zooey Deschanel’s ‘Rosemary Clooney’ set of pipes - the two best reasons to see the movie.

Buddy: We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup.

Buddy: Watch out, the yellow ones don't stop!

Buddy: SANTA! OH MY GOD! SANTA'S COMING! I KNOW HIM! I KNOW HIM!

Buddy: I passed through the seven levels of the Candy Cane forest, through the sea of swirly twirly gum drops, and then I walked through the Lincoln Tunnel.

1. Die Hard: Bruce Willis as badass John McLane. ‘Nuff Said!

John McClane: [huddled in an air vent, recalls his wife's invitation] "Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs..."

Hans Gruber: This time John Wayne does not walk off into the sunset with Grace Kelly. John McClane: That was Gary Cooper, asshole.

John McClane: “Yippie-ki-yay, motherf#@ker!"

I have to give honorable mention to the following movies, as I do enjoy watching these as well:
Home Alone, Love Actually, White Christmas, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (animated), and Trapped in Paradise.

So have a Holly, Jolly Christmas, and a Happy Hanukah as you snuggle up with a mug of hot chocolate and pay tribute to your favorite flicks throughout the holiday season.

Black Friday

2008-12-08T21:46:00.002-06:00

The day of deals, steals and Ole Miss versus Mississippi State.

The air was thick with buyer’s remorse. Rain rapped on the truck the six of us and our shopping treasures were stuffed in. We were indeed ready to head back to the house. Trying to leave the parking lot though proved to be even more of a hassle compared to the traffic of the day.

I wasn’t paying attention to the road or any other drivers, as I was occupying the back seat. We were sitting in the turn lane ready to exit the parking lot, when an SUV turned in the entrance towards us. They made an extremely wide turn and rammed into the side of our vehicle. The wreck seemed to happen in slow motion like an instant replay during a football game.

All I heard from the front seat was “HANG ON!” And BAM! I felt like a rag doll in the hands of a three year old being tossed around. Before I could gain my composure, I heard, “They’re running!” The SUV that ran into us hadn’t stopped! Going for the whole incognito look, the SUV tried to blend into the rest of the parking lot as they sped off. I’m not sure if they thought we wouldn’t have time to turn the truck around, or if they thought we actually wouldn’t go after them. But, in the midst of wondering if a hit-and-run was actually taking place, our truck actually had been maneuvered quite efficiently to make a u-turn so we could in fact race after our criminals. “Where’d they go? Is that them? It is! That’s them,” shouted an occupant in the front seat. The SUV was deviously parked in a parking spot with the engine off – as if it had been parked there the whole time. We promptly pulled parallel behind them, so they had no chance to leave if they decided to run further. A girl got out of the driver’s seat reluctantly and an intoxicated guy rolled out of the passenger’s side. “Oh, did I hit you?” asked the girl innocently. After hearing that, the only thing that crossed my mind was, ‘No shit Sherlock!’ I mean, really? You know you hit us.

I stayed in the truck to stay out of the way, so I was unable to hear the rest of the conversation between our driver and the incompetent/inebriated crew of the SUV. Upon returning to the truck, our driver informed us that the useless mess claimed to be on her Blackberry and wasn’t paying attention. Now tell me, do you really buy that story? Nah, we didn’t either. I say, if you’re going to make up a story, at least come up with something with a little more pizzazz and don’t give Blackberry a bad name – they are good phones.

Our educated guess as to what happened: Inebriated guy and pathetic girl left a postgame party to celebrate the Ole Miss Football victory over Mississippi State. They obviously celebrated WAY too much, but decided that driving drunk was a good idea. When they ran into us, we concluded that the guy was driving and sped away to avoid being slapped with a DUI. When he realized we intended to chase him down, he pulled into a parking spot to trade places with his passenger. I’m also guessing playing coy wasn’t part of incompetent girl’s act. I really think she was THAT dense.

Moving On...

2008-11-23T00:07:00.001-06:00

To all you naysayers and non-believers – I am indeed continuing on with my blog! I’m back in the saddle, ready to rock and roll. All a bit cheesy, I know. Actually, I’ve been quite busy the past few weeks. I’ve just finished a six week writing course, so I’ve funneled all my writing efforts into the class. I took it just for fun, but who knows, one of these days you might see my name on the New York Best Sellers List. (Hey, I can dream.)
I’ve also been occupied with root canals (yes plural), weddings, parties, and birthdays – mine to be exact. That’s right I’m another year older, and another year wiser. No longer do I have the satisfaction of checking the ‘18-25’ age box. I am now a part of the elite who check the ‘26-32’ box. I’m looking forward to this next chapter in my life; I’m ready for more adventure and excitement.
In fact, my first escapade as a mid ‘twenty-something,’ will ensue in the Deep South - where front porches are never bare and ‘fried’ is always on the menu. Michael and I will journey to Batesville, Mississippi for Thanksgiving.
More misadventures to come….and more often!

Quick Update

2008-10-25T20:24:00.002-05:00

I have been crazy busy lately. I haven’t had time to write or even think straight. As soon as I have more time on my hands I will update ya’ll more in-depth.

Also we are having our Halloween party on Saturday, November 1st at 7:00pm. You’re all invited. Just let me know if you need directions or anything!

Ninja Cat!

2008-09-30T15:39:00.002-05:00

I haven't written in a while because not much new has been going on. I work, come home, eat, take a shower, and sleep. Throughout my mundane routine, there are few things that make me smile. One of them is ninja cat!

Most Important Thing...

2008-09-12T16:21:00.003-05:00

Michael: What comes before anything? What have we always said is the most important thing?
George Michael: Breakfast.
Michael: Family.
George Michael: Family, right. I thought you meant of the things you eat.
-Arrested Development-

I have been wrapped up in a hurricane-like family emergency. It started last Wednesday evening after my cousin sent me a text that nearly caused me to choke on my dinner. It read that her father, my uncle, had passed away. I had to read the text five times before I could comprehend the meaning. I immediately called my mom. She was bawling, and said she was on her way over. The rest of the evening and following day were filled with family phone calls and travel arrangements.

My mom, aunt, and I headed to Phoenix the following week to grieve and be with family. It was good to see everyone, but the circumstances completely sucked. Suddenly losing a family member is like being inside the preparation of a James Bond martini - like being strapped into a gyrosphere and spun around at chaotic speeds. When things begin to slow down and the reality of the situation slaps you across the face, the only thing that can keep you out of the funny farm (ha ha-ho ho)... is family.

We are all still reeling from the situation. And even though things will never be the same, family will always be there... As will breakfast.

I Give Up...

2008-08-26T22:00:00.002-05:00

Today started off like any other normal day: I woke up late, threw my hair in a messy pony-tail, put just enough make-up on to not scare anyone, kissed my sleeping husband, and flew out the door. That’s where the normality of my day ended.

Traffic was significantly heavier than usual, and the average speed on the highway was about 35 mph. As I squirmed impatiently in my seat, I noticed three cars stopped in the middle of the highway, two of them were pretty smashed up. I threw my hands in the air. “People need to be more careful.” I scoffed, shaking my head.

Just as I was getting over criticizing the careless drivers, the car in front of me slammed on the breaks. “OH SH*T!” SCREEEEEECH….BAM!!!! The car in front of me flew forward. “ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!!!" My heart stopped. My throat closed up; I couldn’t breath.
Frantically I pulled over to the shoulder behind the other car. My heart beating again, racing in fact. I got out of the car.

“Oh my God, are you ok?” I asked. “Do you have anyone else with you? Are they ok?”

My head was racing. "Is she injured? Does she have a child with her? Is the child ok? Oh my God they have whiplash!" I was literally shaking.

“I’m alright, and it’s just me in the car, are you ok?” She asked.

“I’m ok. I’m soooo sorry!”

“It’s ok. The person in front of me stopped suddenly. I stopped suddenly…” She paused to look at the damage to our cars. My license plate was dented in, and her bumper was a bit loose. “It was just a fender bender, doesn’t look like there’s any major damage.”

She could see I was still shaken up, so she gave me a hug and proceeded to grab a pen and paper so we could exchange information.

“I’ve never been in a wreck before have you?” She asked. She had to be at least 40, I couldn’t believe she’d never been in a wreck.

I shook my head, “No, I haven’t. Do we call the police, or insurance?” She didn’t know either, so she called her parents. I, on the other hand, decided to call Michael.

He answered the phone groggily “Hello?” I’d obviously woken him up.

“I just got in a wreck, who do I call? What do I do?” I asked hurriedly.

“What?! Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what to do or who to call.” I was getting more frantic.

“Get out your insurance card and call the number on it”

“Ok, thanks, bye.” I hung up.

As I was on hold with State Farm, A cop drove up behind me.

“Is everyone ok here?” He asked walking toward us nonchalantly.

“Yes we’re fine. It was just a fender bender,“ she offered. “This is our first wreck. We didn’t know if we needed to call the police.”

“Nah, not unless someone was hurt. I came from another wreck a couple miles back and wanted to make sure ya’ll were ok.”

He took our information down. Then said if we had exchanged info we were free to go. We hugged once more and we were off to work.

Everyone in the office knew what happened. In the midst of my panic, I managed to remember to text a co-worker and let them know I was going to be late. I sat at my desk having to retell my eventful morning to my inquisitive colleagues. I was given tips on how to deal with the insurance claims people and whatnot.

“I’ve been in several wrecks. I know how to work the system,” one guy offered.

I raised my eyebrows. “Alright, but I’m NEVER getting in a car with you!”

I sat at my desk, shaken up and trying to get work done. You would think that would be the end of the crappiness that invaded my morning, but oh no, it carried into my afternoon. Not only did I get in a wreck, I had a dentist appointment later in the day. It was supposed to be an initial visit, so I figured it’d be a quick and easy trip. Wrong again!

Back in January, I had to get two caps and an inlay. Not very fun considering I wasn’t drugged up enough, and could feel every single thing that happened.

Sitting in a dentist’s chair is never relaxing, but what the dentist told me about my x-rays made my heart stop for a second time that day.

“We need to REDO your caps and your inlay. Your previous dentist didn’t put them in correctly. That’s why you are experiencing sensitivity and pain.”

I seriously almost fell out of the dentist chair while clutching my heart (my sanity and my wallet).

When I got home from the dentist’s office I just sprawled out on the couch with an ice cold Coca-Cola, and spaced out while I watched whatever happened to be on the TV. Did you know that Rachel and Ross broke up, again!?

Blah….

Laugh out Loud...

2008-08-20T19:31:00.003-05:00

Who doesn't love to laugh? I've conjured up a few of my fav videos that every time I see them I crack up. So sit back, relax and enjoy.

Matt Damon and Guillermo on Jimmy Kimmel:

Will Ferrel: Space the Infinite Frontier:

Lazy Sunday:

Good 'till the Last Drop!

2008-08-12T21:27:00.002-05:00

Final Day: As our trip came to a close, we realized that one of the only things left to do was visit the Sam Adam’s Brewery.

We arrived, IDs in hand, ready to sample the Boston Lager. While the Brewery was getting ready for the next tour, we were able to sit at a few picnic tables outside and put our vote in for a taste test to determine what would be the newest flavor of Sam Adams. Since I don’t drink beer, I watched as Andrew and Michael swished each flavor of beer around in their mouth, cocking their heads to the side, trying to extract every flavor they could from the two choices.

“All right everybody, you ready to drink some beer,” the tour guide shouted to us mid-drink.

“YEAH!!” We all stood up and shouted back. (With pretty good enthusiasm for 10 am I might add.)

The Brewery was under construction, so our ‘tour’ consisted of standing in front of the large silver brewing vats as the guide talked. He also passed out barley for us to taste and hops for us to smell. I remember looking over at one guy during the tour; he was chomping away on the barley as if he’d been given a bag of potato chips. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d eaten breakfast.

After the guide was finished giving his speech of how the brewing process worked, he said, “Alright, does anyone have any questions, or are you ready to drink some beer!!” As the rest of the group shouted, “YEAH BEER,” one guy in the corner raised his hand and proceeded to ask a question. The guide looked a little stunned that someone wouldn’t jump at the chance for free beer, but answered his question, then said, “Alright, let’s taste some beer!” He didn’t give anyone else a chance to ask a question.

Before we entered the tasting room, we were given free double shot glasses with the Sam Adams logo. The tasting room consisted of six rows of wooden tables that sat in front of a replica of a bar with nothing but Sam Adams on tap.

They passed around pitchers of the lager and told us to share. As I mentioned before I don’t drink beer so I went up to the guide and ask if he had anything else I could ‘taste.’ He handed me a dark brown glass bottle of IBC Root Beer. When I sat back down, you could tell some of the onlookers were jealous. One guy stared intently at the frothy bottle and sternly asked, “What is that? What did they give you?” I grinned. I wanted to tell him my bottle was full of a new fantastic Sam Adams Dark Lager only I was allowed to taste. You could tell he eased up a bit once I told him my ‘beer’ consisted nothing more of sugar, syrup and carbonation.

When the tour concluded, Michael, Andrew and I hung around so I could take pictures of the tour guide and the replicated bar scene. At that point another guide happened to walk in and started chatting with our guide. They looked up at us and asked, “Hey you guys wanna try another beer?” Being that you never turn down free beer, we stayed up at the bar chatting it up with a couple of Bostonians, drinking a few beers, having a few laughs. When in Rome, eh!? Good Times.

Last Day's Lesson: free tours + unanswered questions = sloshed by 10:30 a.m.

Finding Pretty

2008-08-04T22:38:00.008-05:00

Day 6: Completely exhausted from the previous day; having dealt with witches, drunk guys, and very moody cabbies, I slept in. The much needed rest was a leisurely start to a memorable day.

One of my very best friends, whom I went to high school with, lives in Portland, Maine. Luckily for me, Portland is a hop, skip, and a train ride away from Boston. I met up with Jillian for lunch, and after we ate, we did what any two girls would do that needed to catch up… we got mani-pedi’s and gossiped! We talked about everything from her new boyfriend, to who’s getting married, who’s pregnant, and who’s fat! I’d go into more detail, but I’ll leave you wondering. Good times.

Since Jillian has lived in Boston before, she knew all the newfangled shops to go into. So after our feet were pampered, we calmed our sweet tooth with the best ice cream ever! JPLicks has the most delectable Birthday Cake Ice cream. I must have gone there at least once a day while in Boston. And get this, they even have ice cream for your four legged furry friend. http://www.jplicks.com/

Knowing my obsession for pretty things, there was one particular store that Jillian wanted to take me into. The Sign above the door read ‘Betsy Johnson’ and the display window held a fun summer dress. As I walked into the store I couldn’t contain myself. The walls were lined with the most magnificent dresses I have ever laid eyes on. They were arranged on the walls according to color, and each color group had frilly, floofy and sexy dresses. I was in awe. I stared at the dresses as if I were staring at Brad Pitt. I was hesitant to try one on for fear of wanting every one I tried on. http://www.betseyjohnson.com/bio.html
Reluctantly, I decided that $300 was too much for a dress that wasn’t going to fit into my suitcase in. Disappointed, we headed to the next exciting place.

‘Lush’ is a store that hand-makes all of their cosmetics, and soap products. When you first walk in, the store’s pungent aroma engulfs your nostrils, and knocks you off your feet. But if you’re into beauty products as much as I am, it’s a heavenly scent. http://usa.lush.com/cgi-bin/lushdb/products/facialcare.html?expand=FacialCare&sexpand=none

The last fun store we wandered into was ‘Johnny Cupcakes.’ We saw people walking aroung with what looked like to-go boxes of food. Cupcakes to-go, what an interesting idea. When we walked through the door, we saw people huddled around the glass display counters pointing not to delicious sweets lined up in refrigerated cases, but to T-Shirts folded ever so pristinely onto a cookie sheet. How clever! Johnny Cupcakes is a novelty apparel store, with not a sugar-laden cupcake in sight. http://www.johnnycupcakes.com/browse/

Shopping, gossiping, and discovering wonderful treasure troves with one of my best friends, made my trip to Boston that much more memorable.

Day 6 Lesson: Betsy + Johnny = Sweet Licks

Do YOU Know Mahvin?

2008-07-29T20:33:00.002-05:00

After returning from Salem the four of us headed to an Indian food restaurant for some birthday dinner. I’ve never really experienced Indian food before, and was wary of trying it. The Zagat Food Guide gave the restaurant five stars so I thought, why not? Lo and be-hold, the Zagat was right! The food was incredible. I recommend the Chicken Korma to anyone who wants to try Indian food for the first time. Oh and don’t forget the garlic naan. Yum!

Fully satisfied, we wanted nothing more to head back and relax, but apparently the abnormality of Salem was to follow us all the way back home. We found ourselves on a bench waiting for a bus to get us the rest of the way home, when two very drunk guys walked out of the train station. They were walking around, yelling, and acting like Neanderthals. I couldn’t tell if they were part of a gang, or just drunk wannabes.

“Hey man, I gotta take a piss,” yells Drunk Guy number one, and proceeds to walk behind the bench that the four of us were sitting on. He dropped his pants and began to relieve himself. Luckily the bench had a plastic partition behind it; otherwise we would have been happy to give him more privacy.

“Man there are other people around, what are you doing?” asks Drunk Guy number two.

“I don’t care. I gotta…” he stumbles into a trash can also behind the bench, “I had to piss man.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Drunk people that run into things are funny.

They come out from behind the bench and less intoxicated guy says to us, “I’m sorry about my friend, he’s a little drunk.”

Well, that’s completely obvious. Before we had a chance to respond, Number one said, “Hey, where yous from?”

“Texas,” I replied.

“Texas! Man, they cool, they from Texas.” I wasn’t quite sure who he was talking to.

Andrew added that he was from Roslindale. (The city Andrew and Kacy were staying in.)

“Oh man, you from Rozzie?! I’m from Rozzie! How come I aint never seen you before?”

The drunk guy slurred and swayed a bit. Andrew shrugged.

“Man, you from Rozzie! I can’t believe it. HEY, you know Mahvin?” (I assume he meant ‘Marvin.’)

“I don’t know you.” replied Andrew.

Apparently the drunk guy couldn’t get over the fact that Andrew was ‘from’ Roslindale. He kept repeating it over and over. “He’s from Rozzie!”

By this time, more people had made their way off the train and to the bus stop. One particular guy was standing in front of us. He was tall and lean, dressed in baggy clothes, and wore a hat that was pulled down over his face. He stood there hunched over, hands in his pockets, listening to his iPod. Drunk guy Number one staggered up to him and immediately invaded his personal space. This ought to be good. I watched intently.

“Hey Mahvin, it’s me!” Number one was in his face. “It’s me, you know? From Rozzie!?” he repeated. “Ah, come on Mahvin it’s me. You don’t remember me?”

By this time ‘Marvin’ had backed a few feet away from him. But having no sense of anything he continued to harass ‘Marvin’ by waving his arms at him as if he were trying to get his attention from a far off distance (except right in front of his face).
“Mahvin, it’s me man, come on. I’m from Rozzie!”

“Get the hell away from me man!” I almost expected ‘Marvin’ to hit Number one, or pull a gun on him. Instead he kept his cool and walked away.

It was getting late, our bus STILL hadn’t shown up, and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Drunk started harassing other people.

Instead of staying for the display of public intoxication, we decided to take one of the cabs lined up at the bus station. The cabbies were standing in front of their vehicles speaking in a foreign language to one another. As we walked up and asked for a ride, one of the cabbies agreed, nudged his friend, said something and grinned. It was if he’d told him, “Hey watch this.”

We told him our destination and off we went. About 30 seconds into the ride, we noticed our driver had taken the long way, even though Andrew specifically told him what streets to take. Already fed up with Salem, and the Drunk guys, I professed my displeasure, “This is bull sh*t! What the hell is he doing?”

When we finally reached our stop, Andrew paid him and asked for a receipt, but the cabby didn’t give exact change back.

“Where’s our change?” asked Andrew.

“Da change?”

“Yeah. All our change for taking the long way.”

“The long way?” The cabby asked nervously. He fumbled around in his car for spare change.

“Never mind. Can I just have the receipt?” Andrew was exhausted.

“I don’t have receipt,” stuttered the cabby - even though the bumper sticker on his back window read, “Ask for your receipt.”
“Forget it!” Walking away from the cabby, we heard the clink of coins on the pavement and tires screeching, as the driver sped past us.

“Next time you walk!” he yelled. Then he spat out his window at us!

“There won’t be a next time” yelled Andrew.

But the cab was gone. Did we really just witness that? What a day….

Day 5 Lesson (Part 2): Alcohol + Mahvin + ‘shortcut home’ = Pissed

She Turned Me into a Newt!

2008-07-22T20:43:00.003-05:00

Day Five: Happy Birthday to Andrew! To celebrate the festivities, the four of us decided to take the commuter train to Salem, Massachusetts, home of the Salem Witch Trials.

To start off with, we walked to a nearby restaurant for birthday lunch. After eating, I came to the conclusion that Northerners don’t cook steak as well as Texans. I did, however, learn a fun fact about the restaurant. Alexander Graham Bell made the first ever telephone call there.

After the short history lesson, we did what any good tourist would do…shop! The four of us made our way to Salem’s ‘Town Square.’

As we made our way in and out of different shops, a mob of people dressed in 17th Century garb lumbered down the street with a young woman in tow, yelling, “She’s a witch! Let’s hang the witch! We will take you to the town meetinghouse where you will be hanged for witchcraft!” The angry mob continued down the street. Michael, seeing our confused faces, said to us, “Come, we are murdering people without cause!” So we decided to take part in the reenactment.

“This is ridiculous,” shouted the witch, “let me go!” She then proceeded to sit down in the middle of the street.

“Look, she’s sitting in the street as if she were a child!” An actor yelled.

“Like a child!” repeated another.

Michael looked at me, rolled his eyes and said “I went to high school with these people. They’re the epitome of the theater rejects.”

He couldn’t have spoken truer words. I felt like I was in the middle of a junior high play.
Even so, we were looking forward to the ‘hanging,’ and followed the actors as they drug the witch into a nearby building. They shut the doors and kept the onlookers outside.

Moments later, the doors opened back up and one of the actors announced, “Please proceed this way for the remainder of the trial, and be sure to give your tickets at the door.” Forget that! What a scam.

Instead of re-living junior high, we opted for the Salem Witch Museum. I honestly don’t know what was worse, the actors, or the wooden figurines that lined the small museum auditorium. A spotlight would hit each figurine as a loud booming voice would retell the story of the Salem Witch Trials. They even had a figurine of Satan that was hit by a glowing red spotlight as the narrator would tell his involvement in the story. Since the room was dark, I opted for a cat nap.

If that isn’t enough eccentricity for you, the next part of the museum completely blew my mind. We were ushered into a well-lit room with wax talking figurines. Oh my! Each figurine had a pre-recorded audio track that revealed something about real witches in today’s society, such as Wiccans. The wax figures went on about how Wiccans should be respected, and society paints a bad picture of witches with black hats and green skin. I rubbed my temples and whispered to Michael, “So is that why EVERYTHING in their gift shop (and this town, for that matter) has to do with green-skinned witches and pointy black hats?”

As we made our way to the end of the tour, we encountered a wall that read:
God/Satan + Fear = witch trials
Ignorance + McCarthy = red scare
Infection + AIDS = the gay community

I think my eyes literally popped out of my head.

“I can’t believe they put that up there.” One woman said

Her friend replied “Well, it’s on the wall. It MUST be true.”

Day Five Lesson:

wax wiccan + summer acting job = priceless history lesson

John Adams Vs. JFK

2008-07-18T23:18:00.006-05:00

Round Two: After lunch at Legal’s Seafood, we took a train to Quincy, birthplace of 2nd President John Adams. Arriving at the visitor’s center, we learned that all the tours to the Birthplace of John Adams were sold out. Determined to see the house, Kacy suggested that we walk to the house (instead of taking a trolley) and see if we can just slip in with another tour group. I looked down at the blisters on my feet, and silently agreed. 40 minutes later we arrived at the house. For some unknown reason, I decided to wear all black. Needless to say, I was drenched in sweat, and my feet were swollen. I seriously thought they were going to fall off. As we prepared to slip in with the current tour group, I couldn’t help but laugh and say “I think blending in is going to be a bit of a problem.” The entire tour group was Japanese, and didn’t speak a word of English. All of a sudden, a guy pulls up to the curb next to the house, jumps out of his white pickup truck, runs down the street and at the top of his lungs he sings, “I’M SO EXCITED AND I JUST CAN’T HIDE IT.” I was so exhausted from the walk; the only reaction I could muster was a scrunched face. I turned to Michael; he too had made the same face. In the mean time Kacy secured us a private tour of the house. After a shortened tour, we made our way back outside. Again, the same guy ran back from wherever he went, ran passed the Japanese tourists and yelled in a rhythmic tone “J-F-K was a great Pres-i-dent OH YEAH!” Then ‘random guy’ proceeded to get back into his truck and drive away. I concluded that he, A.) was on crack (which wouldn’t have been too far fetched), B.) was in the middle of a dare or C.) really was excited about JFK being a great President.
I shrugged my shoulders and prepared my feet for the 40 minute walk back to the visitor’s center.

Once at the visitor’s center, we found that the 2nd part of the tour, a tour of the home of Abigail Adams, was sold out. But that didn’t matter, we walked the 10 min to the house and Kacy once again finagled a free tour out of the people running the whole thing. Kacy was very grateful that we indulged her passion and research, so she bought us ice cream once the tour ended. I was grateful for the cold, wonderful ice cream, and after satisfying our sweet tooth, we started our trek back.

The four of us found seats toward the back of the bus and plopped down. As the bus rolled into its next stop, a few children were out side giggling and secretively talking to one another. They didn’t get on the bus.
“POPOPOPOPOP!!!!!” I threw my head down into my lap and covered my head. Kacy hit the floor, Michael and Andrew stood guard and the guy to my right didn’t even look up from his I-Pod.
“What the Hell was that?” I screamed.
Apparently the mischievous children at the previous stop threw firecrackers in through the open bus door. After the ‘attack’ Kacy and I looked around bewildered, while the bus driver and the majority of the passengers paid no notice.

Day four Lesson: JFK + John Adams = Japanese Tourist Fun

Under the Sea

2008-07-18T16:05:00.008-05:00

Part One: Day four started at a mind-numbing 7:00 am. (Have I mentioned that I am in no way shape or form a morning person?) As I drug myself out of bed I had to reiterate to myself that we were going to the New England Aquarium. And, if we got there early enough, we’d get to see the ‘Feeding of the Penguins!’ At 8:00 am we found ourselves at the bus stop. We stood around for a few minutes before realizing that the next bus wasn’t making a stop until 8:45. Michael and I couldn’t wait that long. We had Penguins to see! So we walked. 20 minutes later we arrived at the train station. 9:10 am rolled around. We finally made it to the Aquarium ticket booth where we met up with Andrew and Kacy.

The first exhibit was indeed the penguins, and due to our punctuality we arrived in time to watch the penguins eat breakfast. Two girls were in full wet suits standing in the water holding a bucket of dead sardine-like fish. The girls would dunk the fish in the water, shake it off, and practically shove it in the mouth of the hungry penguin. They didn’t seem to mind the forcefulness. The Penguins kept coming back for more dead fish.

Next, was the coolest attraction in the aquarium - Fur Seal Training. As I was standing around waiting for something to happen I hear, “Bear, up!” Responding to its name, a giant bluberous seal flops up onto a concrete platform holding its nose to the hand of the trainer. I regressed back to a 12 year old; my eyes widened. How freakin’ cool! When the seal performed a trick, the trainer would give it a chopped up bloody fish from her bucket.
The ‘Touch Tank’ was our next stop. The tank was only about three feet deep and held small sharks, and rays. “Hold your hand out flat and touch the animals behind their eyes,” shouted one of the aquariums overseers. I reached out for a ray as he fluttered toward the top of the tank. Cold and Slimy! The rest of the Aquarium was pretty cool, but nothing to write home about.

“Now that we have seen them, let’s go eat them.” We all laughed at Andrew’s superfluous humor. It was lunch time and a block away was Legals Seafood. At first I wasn’t excited about going. I don’t like seafood. We obviously beat the crowd because we where one of maybe three tables in there. I scanned the menu praying they had chicken. Then I saw it, Lobster. The word jumped right off the page. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? I love lobster. For some reason, my brain doesn’t put lobster in a category with seafood. As soon as the lobster hit the plate (and the waitress helped me take the meat out of the shell), I dug in. Hot lobster with melted butter, YUM!!

Cheers!

2008-07-17T08:54:00.002-05:00

Day Three in Boston was laid back, as every Saturday should be. After sleeping in and taking our time to get ready, Michael and I met Andrew and Kacy at Boston Common. We leisurely strolled around the park taking in the sights, people and wild life. I met a plump squirrel, a majestic swan, and tiny fuzzy ducklings. I toyed with the idea of taking a duckling home. ‘He could live in our pool!’ I thought to myself. The idea dissipated once I thought of TSA and the damn airplane rules. ‘Fuzzy Duckling’ isn’t an approved carry-on item.

After the park, we swung by the authentic Cheers tavern used for the TV show. I bought a shirt and had another tourist take a picture of the four of us. (You know, as long as I took a picture of them.) Not wanting to eat in the over crowded bar for dinner, and seeing no sign of Sam, Norm or Woody, we consulted the almighty Zagat food guide (http://www.zagat.com/). The all-knowing book lead us to a charming Thai Restaurant called the ‘King and I’. As I ate, my body recuperated from the day, and my brain zoned in and out of the conversation. Stuffed to the gills, we headed back to the hotel.

Lesson for day Three: Yul Brynner + Sam Malone = Lazy Saturday

'Coming Soon!'

2008-07-13T17:31:00.004-05:00

Day two of Boston happened to be the Fourth of July. We had plans to go to the Boston Pops firework extravaganza until we found out that at least half a million people were going to be there. The four of us decided against the mob and did our own thing.

During the day we decided to take it easy. We went shopping at H&M (which when Kacy first mentioned the store, I thought she meant S&M. I stared at her blankly.) Turns out, H&M is a fun clothing store with great discounts.

As lunch time rolled around, we found ourselves in front of Faneiul Hall at one of the many tables they had set up. A group of men had speakers set out and were break dancing. They would shout through the speaker every now and then and say something to the effect of ‘if you give us more money we’ll keep dancing.’ I was tempted to give them money to go away. The music was loud and I had a headache.

After eating, the four of us had new found energy and decided to walk around the harbor to find the sight of the Boston Tea Party. Pre-trip, I bought what I thought were comfortable new walking shoes, so I was up for the exercise and fresh air. Thirty minutes into our journey, my feet were in excruciating pain. My new shoes had failed me, and my feet hated me. And to top it all off, the sight of the Boston Tea Party included a banner that said “Coming Soon! The Sight of the NEW Boston Tea Party.” Are you kidding me? I walked all this way, in shoes that abhor my feet, and all I get is a banner? Oh, not to mention the burned down sight BEHIND the banner.

Heading back downtown, we nearly tripped on what appeared to be a skinned dead pigeon. Focusing on the bird, a guy from a nearby bench shouted “Watch out, that’s my supper!” Was he merely kidding? Or was he actually cooking a pigeon on the sidewalk?

Aside from the shopping the only other highlight of the day was having a fleeting conversation with a pirate! Most of it was chit chat. He worked on a boat that would take people out in the harbor. I asked him how much He was and he replied “Well I’m pretty cheap, but the boat ride is a different story.” I totally walked into that one. I smiled, took a picture of him, and was on my way.
Back at the hotel, Michael and I turned on the Boston Pops and rehashed the day’s idiosyncrasies.

Lesson of day two: Pirates + S&M shops = Ol’ fashioned 4th of July

Boston Baby!

2008-07-12T12:08:00.008-05:00

3:30am is an ungodly hour. But Michael and I had a plane to catch so I grudgingly turned off my alarm and drug myself to the shower. In order to circumvent the seventeen dollar a day air port parking fee, my mom stayed the night in order to drive the car back to the house. After getting everything together, the three of us headed out. A 45 minute drive and a 31/2 hour plane ride later, we arrived in Boston. Michael’s brother greeted us.

Mass Transit by train, what a novel idea! You pay 15 dollars for one ticket that is good for a full week, and in that time period you can use the ticket as much as you want! Not to mention it works for city buses as well. Oh, and the best part is you don’t have to sit in rush hour traffic, car idling and wasting gas! The mass transit also forces people to walk more places than say most southerners. Exercise and no gas money, what a deal!

The first day in Boston was pretty laid back: went to the hotel to change, and then meet Michael’s brother Andrew and his wife Kacy for a late lunch. After lunch the four of us decided to head over to the ‘Trader Joes’ to buy a few groceries so we wouldn’t have to eat out at every single meal.

The store was a mad house! People all over the place, in tiny isles with big ol’ carts. It was nerve racking. Kacy and I had to take turns staying with the cart while the other one would brave the masses to grab food. We came out alive and began to wander back to the bus stop. On the way to the bus stop Kacy and I encountered a blind man who obviously shouldn’t have been alone on the busy streets. Being a friendlier person than I, Kacy decided to help the blind man cross the street to the bus stop. When the man reached out for Kacy’s arm he ended up grabbing her breast then proceeded to mumble something about the fabric of her shirt.

Day one lesson: Good citizenship + old blind man = 2nd base.

Reunions

2008-07-04T21:04:00.000-05:00

Generally speaking, family reunions consist of happy people gathered to eat, drink and reminisce. My family has never been part of the ‘generally speaking.’ Our family reunions consist of waiting rooms, hospital gowns, and the faint smell of hospital food that has to consist of more preservatives then a bottle of cheese wiz.

This past week our family had a ‘reunion’ in Phoenix, AZ. I received a call from my mom last Monday morning telling me that my Aunt was in the hospital for chest pains. When I told my boss what was going on, he immediately told me to go see her. When I informed him that she was in AZ and not just down the road at Harris Hospital, he told me to go anyway and he would pay for a plane ticket for my mom and me. (Crazy right?!) So, off we went.

When I told my cousin that we were coming, she offered up her guest room which meant we didn’t have to camp out at the hospital, eat the inedible hospital food, or reserve a hotel room, which we am very thankful for.

My Aunt was released from the hospital, but she still had chest pain on top of severe headaches and vomiting. Doctors don’t know what is wrong with her, and will be giving her an angiogram in about a week and a half.

All and all it was a good trip that I am thankful I was able to take. We ended up seeing my other Aunt who lives in Northern Arizona, and a few friends of the family. And in the end we sat around eating, drinking and reminiscing. And even though I usually don’t see my side of the family unless someone has been, or is in the hospital I enjoy the time I do have with them.

Happy Birthday Kacy

2008-06-02T11:24:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was my Sister-in-law’s Birthday!! I just wanted to tell everyone a little bit about Mrs. Kacy Tillman. She is remarkable and I think everyone should know her.

I met Kacy when I started dating Michael about 4 years ago or so. My first impression was that she was beautiful, smart and full of life. She included me in on all the family conversations I was new to and made me feel welcome. My first impression hasn’t changed much; except now I know she’s a little bit crazy for getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to run 5 billion miles . Kacy is also super fun to shop with because she always hones in on the cutest clothes. She is also a phenomenal cook! Let me back up to the part when I said she was smart. I didn’t mean your average run of the mill smart. I meant tremendously smart, as in she is working very hard on a PhD at Ole’ Miss where she happens to teach.

The only thing that bums me out is I only get to see her on holidays and special occasions because she lives in Mississippi! (Come back to Texas! We miss you!) I do however get to see her on the 4th of July when the four of us venture up to Boston.

So, to sum things up: Happy Birthday Kacy you’re awesome. I couldn’t have asked for a better sister-in-law if I was allowed to choose one out of a line up!

Oh, one more thing! Check out her blog on the right hand side of this page titled ‘Kacy’s Miscellaneity.’ Among everything else, she’s a wonderful writer!

Lunacy

2008-05-28T12:02:00.007-05:00

The word ‘Lunacy’ is derived from the Latin word for moon which is ‘Luna.’ Many people believe that ‘the crazies’ come out during a full moon: hospitals receive more phone calls, crime increases and animals act out. It is a case of Causation verses Correlation. Is the world’s chaos merely the cause of the moon, or is the ‘madness’ just correlated with the moon’s waxing and waning cycle?

The question arises - do people become a little ‘out of whack’ when there is a full moon? Is there scientific evidence to support that theory? I read that scientists are unable to arrive at a collective conclusion. Some base their findings on just the 24-hour span of the full moon, and others base it on the entire week of the full moon. One theory suggests that we only remember odd things that happen, because it is in fact a full moon. We may hold on to myths and legends that say the moon makes us crazy, because we have heard it our whole lives. In 19th -Century England lawyers used the defense “guilty by reason of the full moon” to claim that their ‘lunatic’ clients could not be held accountable for acting under the moon’s influence. Maybe this is where the plea of insanity came from. Anyway, another theory suggests that the moon affects our body like it does the tides. We are made up of mostly water, so why wouldn’t the moon’s gravitational pull affect us in some way?

For the month of May, the full moon occurred last week on the 20th, and what a bizarre week that was! The events that happened weren’t extremely outlandish or anything, but what made it bizarre was the context of the events. For example, at work we are only an 18-person office, and last week within the span of three days, two people quit! Now, if you have heard me talk about my office and work environment, you know it is a great place to work and not a place that people just up and quit. I think the other reason I had a bizarre week was that people were just acting differently then normal. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I even felt a little off kilter myself.

I can’t help but think that my ‘off’ week had a little something to do with the moon being at its brightest. Whose to say that the moon’s gravitational pull has no effect over us whatsoever? I kind of like the idea of a little mystery behind the peculiar actions of humans, and animals for that matter. I don’t know, maybe I am one of those people still holding onto the traditions, and I’m ok with that. I think the world needs to be intrigued and mystified by the unknown; it’s what keeps us motivated.

Ignorance

2008-05-22T12:52:00.005-05:00

Ignorance may in fact be bliss, but sometimes ignorance is just damn funny! Jon Stewart from the Daily Show takes a few minutes to figure out why Hillary Clinton crushed Barack Obama in the West Virginia Primary. Take a look :

Hooray for Hollywood!

2008-05-20T15:38:00.006-05:00

Hollywood’s Summer Movie Extravaganza is in full swing, and views are loving every minute of it. So grab a jumbo tub of popcorn (or a pitcher of beer if you frequent the Movie Tavern) and listen up for the summer’s hottest movies on the big screen.

- Iron Man: You don’t have to be a comic book fan to enjoy this action packed flick. Directed by Jon Favreau (ELF), Robert Downey Jr. gives a wonderful performance alongside Terrence Howard, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Jeff Bridges.
- Forgetting Sarah Marshal: I cannot remember the last time I laughed so hard at a movie. The script was written by, Judd Apatow, and Jason Segel who is the star of the movie. The movie was hilariously clever and raunchy all at the same time. What more could you want out of a summer movie?!
- Batman the Dark Knight: Batman has once again returned to Gotham to rid the streets of malevolence. Instead of being butchered by the untalented directing style of Mr. Joel Schumacher, this star studded cast-including Christian Bale, Gary Oldman, Maggie Gyllenhaal, (no more Katie Holmes.. yea!), Heath Ledger and Michael Cain- was directed by Christopher Nolan
- Indian Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull: Some 19 years later, Harrison Ford has decided to throw his hat back into the ring and suit up as the archeologist we all know and love – Dr. Indiana Jones. Apparently Spielberg and his crew are extremely tight-lipped about the details of this new adventure, but hopefully the writing and acting will be just as good and quick witted as the previous three.
- The Mummy: Brendan Fraiser, Maria Bello, and Jet Li, star in the third installment of The Mummy. Rick O’Connell is Back in action slaying the ‘bad guy,’ finding the treasure and of course getting the girl.
- Sex and the City: Thought I’d save the best for last! Dust off those Martini Glasses and shine those Manolo Blahnik’s, the girls of the Big Apple are back and more fabulous then ever. This movie is probably going to be the best ‘girls night out’ movie to ever grace the big screen.

I know I have left out some movies, but there are just so many to list! Let me know what other movies I should have listed, or ones that we shouldn’t waste our hard earned cash on.

Seriously?!

2008-05-16T16:26:00.001-05:00

If you are a loyal Grey’s Anatomy fan, I’m pretty sure you saw last night’s episode. All I have to say is ‘Seriously?!’
First off, we get the whole metaphor going on between Derek and Meredith. Their relationship is mirrored in their clinical trial. The relationship, like the trail is risky, and complicated. If only the love birds could be in sync and have the right combination of whatever it is they need to make their relationship actually work. When so many times in the past it has crumbled due to Meredith’s inability to be happy, because her parents messed her up. (And really, whose parents haven’t contributed in some way to their child’s breakdown of psychotic behavior?) Anyway, we as the viewer fully understand that part of the story line; you don’t have to shove it in our face EVERY single time that plot comes up. Here’s what I predict: As soon as Meredith and Derek save a person with their medical trial they are going to break open that symbolic bottle of Champagne, get drunk and have sex. Or something along those lines… Whaddya bet?
Don’t even get me started on the whole Alex and what’s-her-face story line. How does he not see that she’s has major psychological problems and needs help. I cannot believe the writers haven’t kicked her off the show yet. She keeps showing up in the most random of episodes.
Even though I like Katherine Heigl, I was actually glad Izzy didn’t have much of a story line in this episode. Her character is developing into a whiny, woe is me, doctor. What happened to fierce resident Izzy who wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way? After Denny’s death, she was able to grow and become a stronger person. Bring that Izzy back to the show!
I used to be really into Grey’s until this last season. As soon as they took Addison and Dr. Burke out of the picture, and gained Leixie, the storyline went downhill, or ‘jumped the shark’ if you will. I’m not saying Isaiah Washington shouldn’t have been fired -Well, that’s just a whole other can of worms entirely. Anyway let me know what you think…

Movie Review

2008-05-12T13:28:00.004-05:00

Over the Weekend, Michael, Dan, Marshal and I decided to brush up on our ‘pot head’ skills by unleashing our taste for small hamburgers, and beer while inhaling the adventures of Harold and Kumar.
Escape from Guantanamo Bay was an easy way to forget about all of my problems and sink into a un-PC world of racial government operatives, gun toting hookers, inbred farmers, the KKK, a ‘high’ president and the always hilarious Neil Patrick Harris. I have to say that Harris’ role made the film, and he needed to have more scenes. All-in-all the movie was funny but extremely raunchy and racial. If you are in the mood for a stupid comedy that will make you laugh, and you aren’t easily offended, I suggest taking a trip to the theater with a buddy or two. This movie is defiantly NOT a date movie especially if it’s your first date. If you are in the mood to stay in and watch a brainless comedy that will make you laugh until snot or coke escapes from your nose, I suggest renting the first Installment of Harold and Kumar in which the fearless duo sidesteps a list of ludicrous characters, including NPH, to arrive at their destination of the White Castle.