I follow "that awkward moment when..." on Twitter & my wheels began to turn for my own trend.
Friday night brought on that awkward moment while working concessions at a local high school football game and the kid ordering didn't have enough money to cover what he ordered and he stood there just looking at me for about ten seconds and then grabbed the food and dashed. Ummmm....
Saturday I was wearing my University of Alabama ball cap when a cashier stopped between her loud smacks of chomping on her gum to ask, "so, are you like cheering for Alabama in that big game tonight?". The awkwardness presented itself in the form of do I answer her with "no, no, this is just a hat I found on the side of the road and I was having a bad hair day" or "omg, how did you know???"
Monday, November 7, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
back with a vengeance
well, no, not really...I don't have anything to do in retaliation but felt as though that's always the catchphrase for a return.
Wow, June 6th for last post, yikes. Okay let's see here...
July -
August -
evidently began to neglect my camera
celebrated 2 years of marriage
had a blast on a savannah bachelorette trip
September -
celebrated my 27th birthday
attended 2 fabulous weddings
mom and I mastered the cotton candy assembly line & cranked out wedding favors
marked the 5th year with my job
decided on Bluto & Olive Oyl for halloween costumes
and now here we are with November's chilly temps & determining a date in which it won't seem nuts for me to go ahead and put my Christmas tree up. I am antsy as all get out for the Black Friday ads and to plan my shopping strategy, which may not be as fierce, since we will be in Memphis for Thanksgiving.
Wow, June 6th for last post, yikes. Okay let's see here...
July -
awesome vacation
August -
evidently began to neglect my camera
celebrated 2 years of marriage
had a blast on a savannah bachelorette trip
September -
celebrated my 27th birthday
attended 2 fabulous weddings
mom and I mastered the cotton candy assembly line & cranked out wedding favors
October -
festival season was in full swingmarked the 5th year with my job
decided on Bluto & Olive Oyl for halloween costumes
and now here we are with November's chilly temps & determining a date in which it won't seem nuts for me to go ahead and put my Christmas tree up. I am antsy as all get out for the Black Friday ads and to plan my shopping strategy, which may not be as fierce, since we will be in Memphis for Thanksgiving.
Monday, June 6, 2011
as seen on tv testimonials
Some people have a gift-giving tradition at Christmas. You may always get someone a refill of something you know they love and will use, or you receive something handmade every year from a certain person. Well my hubby gets me an "as seen on TV" product every year. I always go into those stores and want to try out everything, but never end up walking out with a single thing. He and I know as well as everyone else that there's always going to be products that just don't work. You scratch your head and wonder, "how on earth did this ever make it on the shelf?!" BUT I will say that there are a few of these items that I will forever stand by and they have certainly made little things in my life easier.
1. Strap Perfect
Something about racerback shirts and dresses just always, always draws me in. If it's not the pattern I love, it's the color or the fabric or something about it sticks out to me. But when I would take it off the rack and see the back of it knowing I LOATHE strapless bras, I would think, "forget this, my bra straps will hang out." But alas, this simple, number eight-shaped, plastic mechanism found it's way on the market and I quit having to put stuff back on the rack when I really wanted it! They've never broken or allowed my straps to come undone. In fact, the only bad thing that's ever happened has been when I have misplaced them and I think now I am down to only 2. I would highly, highly, highly suggest these to any female!
2. Pasta Boat
The hubby and I both enjoy pasta dishes, but I hated dragging out the big stock pot...waiting for what seemed like an eternity for the water to boil....getting an instant, unwanted facial when I went to drain the noodles....and battling that big pot to fit in the dishwasher. When I got this I was questioning the final outcome. I thought the noodles will still be hard or the water would boil over the top, but no, it was actually perfect! It's dishwasher safe and the little booklet that came with it tells you exactly how much water to put in according to how much pasta you are wanting to make. It doesn't get any easier than this.
3. Handy Switch
Do you have one of those outlets that if you ever need to unplug something or plug it back in, it's just a pain to try and get to? You either have to get down on the ground and stretch your arm and wiggle your fingers to get to it or you end up having to move a piece of furniture to be able to even see the outlet. This comes in handy for me because, well, I'm a little crazy when it comes to Christmas decorations. We have our regular Christmas tree, a mini tree with Florida Gators decorations for myself, a mini tree with Alabama Crimson Tide decorations for the hubs, and then a mini gingerbread tree that sits on our kitchen table. The outlet for the gingerbread tree is behind the kitchen table, so whenever I went to unplug it before we went to bed, I'd have to pull out all the stools from the table and crawl under the kitchen table to reach the plug. Well now I just plus this bad boy into the outlet and then the tree into this plug. I keep the switch hidden behind the tree so that when I'm ready to turn the lights off, I just flip the switch and all is well. Super convenient.
What about you? Any "heck yes" or "no way" experiences with this stuff??
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
when I was a youngster...
my mom taught me to say excuse me when I was making my way through a crowd of people rather than step all over them and shove my way through...
I knew better than to talk back to my elders because, here's a shocker, there were conquences...
wearing makeup was the last thing I was worried about...
I knew to treat a homeless person with the same respect in which I'd treat a millionaire...
I didn't have the internet, and if I did, I sure as heck wouldn't be allowed to have a facebook account....
catching lightning bugs and picking little flowers were enough to keep me entertained as opposed to being cruel to animals or being destructive.
I knew when my mom told me to be quiet during a church service or a wedding that she meant business...and if I didn't obey she would ACTUALLY yank me up and discipline me.
I tried to reach high levels on the reading chart at school, not on video game rankings.
my opinion of being sneaky was packing another Little Debbie in my lunch when mom had her back turned, not a loaded gun.
me and my friends wore friendship bracelets, not labels that we gave each other for our flaws.
a generic brand wasn't something that caused your jaw to drop.
I knew better than to talk back to my elders because, here's a shocker, there were conquences...
wearing makeup was the last thing I was worried about...
I knew to treat a homeless person with the same respect in which I'd treat a millionaire...
I didn't have the internet, and if I did, I sure as heck wouldn't be allowed to have a facebook account....
catching lightning bugs and picking little flowers were enough to keep me entertained as opposed to being cruel to animals or being destructive.
I knew when my mom told me to be quiet during a church service or a wedding that she meant business...and if I didn't obey she would ACTUALLY yank me up and discipline me.
I tried to reach high levels on the reading chart at school, not on video game rankings.
my opinion of being sneaky was packing another Little Debbie in my lunch when mom had her back turned, not a loaded gun.
me and my friends wore friendship bracelets, not labels that we gave each other for our flaws.
a generic brand wasn't something that caused your jaw to drop.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
photo op
A girl who works at Jasper's doggy daycare shared these pictures today on Facebook and this biggest smile spread across my face. I am so thankful that this great group of people enjoy him and take the absolute best care of him!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
back in the day...
this post is dedicated to those things that always make me go, "oh my gosh, do you remember........"
(I think it got to the point where my mom dreaded me bringing home scholastic book order forms!)
(what TGIF really meant)
(who could forget Pogs?!? you had those tubes they went it, the thick slammer ones, & the weird shaped ones!)
okay, okay, I'll stop now.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
the chopping block
Every 6 months I enter a waiting room with a book in my purse because I know I'll be sitting there for at least an hour.
My name is called, I rise, and I try to give a smile to the nurse who kindly points me in the direction of the small room I will continue to wait in.
She gives me the ugly, scratchy, paper garment to put on and tells me the doctor will be in just as soon as she can be to talk to me.
I sit there biting my lip and I try to fight off the goosebumps from the frigid room. I scan the room and begin to read those same posters I've read dozens of times that tell me what precautions to take and what the warning signs are.
My mind begins to wander and I start thinking about the trip I will need to make after this visit. The trip to whatever local drug store in order to buy bandages and medicine and dreading of sleeping on my stomach for the next 2 weeks in order to not irritate the stitches.
I notice a full length mirror on the back of the door and stand up and walk towards it. I turn my head over my shoulder and stare at my back in the reflection. I wonder where the new incisions will be, but then quickly give up because I know my guesses are random and are never right. I start looking at my scars and make a mental note to be better about putting scar cream on them. There's 4 of them already and who knows how many more to come...I should concern myself more with making them less visible.
The door knob turns and I jump back and return to my seat on the crunchy paper on the exam table. I'm greeted by a kind face and the comment of "I'd know that back anywhere" in which she tries to break the ice. I try to smile and I mutter, "who doesn't?!". She pulls out whatever that magic little magnifier is called that seems to be able to show her just the right spots in which she needs to cut out and remove skin from my back. It's with the cold touch of that instrument that the dread sinks in, and I wonder where I will soon be chopped.
I recall my last visit in which the words "skin cancer" and "avoid sun exposure" were tossed around like any other nouns or verbs. The last visit in which the SPF numbers she told me to use sounded more like Powerball lottery numbers than anything I'd be able to find on the shelf. I wanted to kick myself over and over for visiting the tanning bed religiously in high school. I wanted to beat my head against a wall while thinking of those times of laying out in the sun while only applying baby oil. What I had done to my body was no better than someone who vandalizes a perfectly good building. You can cover up the damage, but you know that some type of reminder will always be there and there's no telling what might go wrong in the future as a result of that vandalism.
I snap back into the present moment when I hear the words, "I want to see you again in a year". A year? What? "So we aren't cutting anything out today?" I ask. For once, I hear the answer "no, you're good to go" and I suddenly don't even care about the co-pay I always hate handing over at the end of the visit. For once, I'm not handed a sheet on how to take care of my incisions....I don't think about stopping to get bandages...I don't think about how I can't walk my enormous dog because the stitches would pull....I don't think of how I have to tell my husband to be careful when he goes to hug me....in fact, I don't think at all. I simply tell her she has made my day and leave that doctor's office with a huge weight off of my shoulders.
Now I'm not stupid, I know some of you are thinking, "I've had that done before, it's really not that bad" and you think I'm blowing this out of proportion. Well to be honest, I don't care if that's what you think. No one can tell ME what I felt when I was laying there being cut on or what emotions flooded ME when the doctor told me how I needed to take this seriously. But what I do care about is making people aware of what they are doing every time they crawl in that tanning bed...and what they're doing every time they allow their skin to get a little too red at the pool...and what they're doing when they're not worried about the ocean washing off all that sunscreen they just put on.
I don't want anyone to ever have to hear that basically their skin is a train wreck. I don't want anyone to cry in their car after they leave their dermatologist appointment because you left there with a dozen stitches that you weren't expecting and you're scared that even putting your shirt on in the morning will cause you to stretch just a little too much. I don't want anyone's first wedding anniversary night to entail asking your significant other to change your bandages.
Just like they make medicine for a reason, they make sunscreen for a reason. Don't worry, you'll still get a tan, but you're being responsible about it. You'll look in the mirror 30 years from now and thank yourself.
My name is called, I rise, and I try to give a smile to the nurse who kindly points me in the direction of the small room I will continue to wait in.
She gives me the ugly, scratchy, paper garment to put on and tells me the doctor will be in just as soon as she can be to talk to me.
I sit there biting my lip and I try to fight off the goosebumps from the frigid room. I scan the room and begin to read those same posters I've read dozens of times that tell me what precautions to take and what the warning signs are.
My mind begins to wander and I start thinking about the trip I will need to make after this visit. The trip to whatever local drug store in order to buy bandages and medicine and dreading of sleeping on my stomach for the next 2 weeks in order to not irritate the stitches.
I notice a full length mirror on the back of the door and stand up and walk towards it. I turn my head over my shoulder and stare at my back in the reflection. I wonder where the new incisions will be, but then quickly give up because I know my guesses are random and are never right. I start looking at my scars and make a mental note to be better about putting scar cream on them. There's 4 of them already and who knows how many more to come...I should concern myself more with making them less visible.
The door knob turns and I jump back and return to my seat on the crunchy paper on the exam table. I'm greeted by a kind face and the comment of "I'd know that back anywhere" in which she tries to break the ice. I try to smile and I mutter, "who doesn't?!". She pulls out whatever that magic little magnifier is called that seems to be able to show her just the right spots in which she needs to cut out and remove skin from my back. It's with the cold touch of that instrument that the dread sinks in, and I wonder where I will soon be chopped.
I recall my last visit in which the words "skin cancer" and "avoid sun exposure" were tossed around like any other nouns or verbs. The last visit in which the SPF numbers she told me to use sounded more like Powerball lottery numbers than anything I'd be able to find on the shelf. I wanted to kick myself over and over for visiting the tanning bed religiously in high school. I wanted to beat my head against a wall while thinking of those times of laying out in the sun while only applying baby oil. What I had done to my body was no better than someone who vandalizes a perfectly good building. You can cover up the damage, but you know that some type of reminder will always be there and there's no telling what might go wrong in the future as a result of that vandalism.
I snap back into the present moment when I hear the words, "I want to see you again in a year". A year? What? "So we aren't cutting anything out today?" I ask. For once, I hear the answer "no, you're good to go" and I suddenly don't even care about the co-pay I always hate handing over at the end of the visit. For once, I'm not handed a sheet on how to take care of my incisions....I don't think about stopping to get bandages...I don't think about how I can't walk my enormous dog because the stitches would pull....I don't think of how I have to tell my husband to be careful when he goes to hug me....in fact, I don't think at all. I simply tell her she has made my day and leave that doctor's office with a huge weight off of my shoulders.
Now I'm not stupid, I know some of you are thinking, "I've had that done before, it's really not that bad" and you think I'm blowing this out of proportion. Well to be honest, I don't care if that's what you think. No one can tell ME what I felt when I was laying there being cut on or what emotions flooded ME when the doctor told me how I needed to take this seriously. But what I do care about is making people aware of what they are doing every time they crawl in that tanning bed...and what they're doing every time they allow their skin to get a little too red at the pool...and what they're doing when they're not worried about the ocean washing off all that sunscreen they just put on.
I don't want anyone to ever have to hear that basically their skin is a train wreck. I don't want anyone to cry in their car after they leave their dermatologist appointment because you left there with a dozen stitches that you weren't expecting and you're scared that even putting your shirt on in the morning will cause you to stretch just a little too much. I don't want anyone's first wedding anniversary night to entail asking your significant other to change your bandages.
Just like they make medicine for a reason, they make sunscreen for a reason. Don't worry, you'll still get a tan, but you're being responsible about it. You'll look in the mirror 30 years from now and thank yourself.
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