The Truth About Goldilocks

Haul out the Holly

2010-12-21T07:34:00.000-08:00

For lack of better content, I am posting some festive photos of our casa all decorated up for the Christmas season. My dear Bowtie gave me free reign when it came to holiday decor selection, so you'll notice a distinctly Sarah influence (aka, blinged out pink poinsettias, sparkly reindeer, tartan bows and giant shiny ornaments). We are feeling very merry around here!! Enjoy les pix.

And yes, I have been listening to Christmas music for months, ala this post.

Small victories

2010-12-13T11:33:00.001-08:00

Gang, this is exciting. I - somehow, and finally - figured out how to change the email address associated with my blog!! I cannot tell you how many times I have tried to do this... honestly, "several dozen times" is my guess.

This means a couple of things:

1. I will now be able to see comments in my gmail the instant they are published, instead of having to go to my old hotmail account which I only check maybe once a month.

2. I will be able to/be more inclined to post new entries because I won't be required to log out of my always-logged-in gmail just to do it! Big. Big. Big. Win (for me, and you).

3. I guess that's really it. But I like a point 3.

So... now I really have NO excuse for not updating more often. Three cheers for this day of inspiration!

Livin' room, bedroom, dinette

2010-07-15T19:15:00.000-07:00

It's official - as of this past weekend, Braden and I have moved into our new digs!! We've been boxing up and moving belongings since the middle of June, and we finally have all of our "stuff" under one roof. Although Braden did choose to leave behind (read: trash) everything that was in the apartment refrigerator while I was away at a bridal shower... Items left behind: an entire box of unsalted butter sticks, brand new ketchup and mustard, an unopened box of popsicles, a container of organic mint, chicken stock, spaghetti sauce, etc. etc. etc. I managed to bite my tongue, but I could have killed him. Unmarried ladies - this is what you might have to look forward to someday.

ANYWAY.

We have a zillion boxes to unpack and lots of decorating to do, but we are here. And we are happy.

I've heard from my many illustrious readers (Amanda) that I have not made good on my promise to blog more. So this is my check in to just get something on the board for summer. More bloggin' and pictures to follow.

Home, with an asterisk

2010-05-18T18:16:00.000-07:00

I moved to Dallas in July of 2007, but for three years it felt like I moved to Limbo. My body was in Texas, but my heart was 14 hours away and across the Mississippi River. I can't count how many times over three years I said, "Dallas is growing on me, but it will never be home..." And I meant that - Dallas would NEVER be my home or where I was from. Nothing personal, Big D; I wasn't ready to commmit.

Somehow, despite that fact, I'm going to co-own a home in Texas. I'm actually a lot more excited than that sounds, so let's try again - I'm going to own my first house with my awesome husband!! Better.

About a month ago, Braden and I had a literal come to Jesus meeting about our future plans - would we give up our life in Texas and move home or would we commit to living in Texas for an as-yet-undetermined length of time? This would not be an easy decision, as neither choice was a compromise; choosing either option left one of us sacrificing our heart's desire. We spent lots and lots of time in prayer, and I shed more tears than I care to admit. But at the end of a week that saw me break into hysterics at the drop of a hat, God gave me peace. Peace about pursuing a life in Dallas. Peace that, because I had asked for His blessings, He would be faithful to bring them. Peace that Braden and I were growing together in Christ and that He has a purpose for us in Texas. Peace that we are in the right place at the right time.

And so, we began to look for a house. It was full steam ahead, and it felt great! I have rarely felt that secure in a decision - and I know that feeling can only come from relying on one's faith. We looked at houses for not even a full two weeks and made an offer. The offer was accepted, and we're moving forward towards closing day.

We are blessed!

Without further ado, here is the beauty:

Barring any unforeseen issues, that will be our house and our home*. (*even though it's in Dallas)

Designer Imposters

2010-05-05T09:46:00.000-07:00

So this is yet another shallow post and contains little of substance. But - look at me, posting three times in three days!! I am really making an effort here, people. So take the shallow and know that the days of serious can't be far around the corner.

I have expensive taste. And I have fallen hard for two pairs of designer shoes for summer. There is no no NO way I will ever buy them; they are just "TOOOO ESPEEEENSIVE" (shout out to Lana). But, still I think they are beautiful and would look so perfect on my feet all summer long. Luckily, I have found two more moderately priced look-alike options that I could more easily afford.

Before you chastise me, I am NOT saying that these are what I'd call "cheap" shoes by any stretch, but they are at least considerably more affordable than the designer ones I daydream about. And, I think they have a very similar look. So, now, I covet these cheap-ER versions.

What I want:

(YSL Tribute Platform Sandal)

The more affordable alternative:

(Linea Paolo Jarren Sandal)

What I want:

(Christian Louboutin Crisscross Espadrille)

The more affordable option:

(Vince Camuto Edon Wedge Sandal)

Like I said, I'm not saving lives here. I just want to get in the habit of blogging again, even if it means that my posts are about shoes (or nail polish). I love shoes. This is my blog, and I wanted to look at these beauties.

Actually...I'm feeling guilty about writing only about shoes and nails and a fluffy survey so far. So let's use this shoe post to talk about something more meaningful. I can easily make the comparison between my self image and this designer/"imposter" shoe issue. I have this image of what I want to be like, look like, act like - but in real life I don't live up to that standard of perfection (well, my idea of perfection anyway). And I get very frustrated and very "down" when I don't feel or act or look perfect. I have been hearing great things - RAVE reviews, really - about Beth Moore's book, "So long, Insecurity." I plan on reading Beth's book soon. I don't want to be a slave to my insecurities, and I am sick of living life paralyzed by fear of what other people think of me. More to come on that...

See? We ended on a serious note. I told you it would happen!

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

2010-05-04T18:19:00.000-07:00

I was re-reading my blog posts (there are just SO many of them to go through...) and I laughed out loud at the survey I filled out way back when I started writing in 2006 (coincidentally, that is also about the time I stopped writing...) Anyway. I thought it'd be fun to fill out another one today. Some of my answers didn't change much at all! So, here ye go.

What I was doing ten years ago:
May, 2000. Wow. I was about to graduate from high school, a time that could not come quickly enough to 18 year-old me. Though I loved academics, I did not embrace the typical high school experiences of dating, having fun with friends, going to prom, etc. I didn’t have much of a life outside of schoolwork and dance rehearsals, but I was happy because I excelled at those things. Still, I believed I needed a fresh start, and the end of high school seemed promising. I had accomplished all of the oh-so important goals I had set for myself: I won my county Junior Miss pageant, achieved success in my dance and academic pursuits, and received scholarships to my top two college choices. I had also very recently lost my maternal grandfather to cancer. His funeral marked the first time I realized that I can be kind of emotionless in the face of tragedy. Months later, I finally cried for him and for my mom and her sisters. Honestly, that whole month of May is a huge blur. What I really remember is that about a month later I would discover that my hair did, in fact, prefer to be worn curly (and not in the strangled, flattened, flipped at the ends way I had been wearing it for years) – just in time for a summer of fun and a college send-off.

Five years ago:
May, 2005. Another wow! I was finishing up my time interning in D.C. and beginning preparations for my BiG Fourth of July move to Nashville. I was really, really ready to find a way to balance work life with personal life. I had no idea how awesome or life-changing my decision to move to Tennessee would be! God was working to prepare the way even then.

One year ago:
May, 2009. I can’t believe it’s been a year, but I was newly married and settling into life as the Bowtie’s wife. We had returned from our Mexican honeymoon and managed to avoid the swine flu in the process. Score one for us! I was also winding down my time in my original position at the University and gearing up for my exciting (and current) position. I was nervous but excited about all the changes going on in my life. I was getting lots of migraines and grinding my teeth down to nubs after several months of wedding stress finally caught up with me. I visited Austin to see my BFF and the newest Kentucky-to-Texas transplant, Sarah M. I wanted to get a puppy but thought better of it.

Yesterday:
May 3, 2010. Let’s see… it was a Monday. I woke up with just barely enough time to get ready, eat some delicious Honey Nut Cheerios, and give the Bowtie a kiss. I went to work and checked email and Google Reader, as is my morning custom (especially on Mondays). I got a frantic phone call from the Bowtie saying that my mother was trying to get in touch with me and that something was wrong with my grandmother. I spoke with mom and got the rest of the story (not to be shared here currently). I prayed a lot. I went to the dentist and was given a grade “B+“ for my general good dental health but continued lack of interest in flossing. I worked some more – emails, meetings, reports. I left an hour after quitting time despite promising myself that I would leave on time. I got caught in a rainstorm. I talked with my mom on the phone for a long time. I saw the biggest rainbow I’ve ever seen. I half-heartedly watched Dancing with the Stars and had a Lean Cuisine for dinner (the Bowtie is on business in Alamo country). I watched Forensic Files in bed. It’s an exciting life – don’t be jealous.

Five songs I know all the words to:
Party in the USA, Miley Cyrus
Shameless, Garth Brooks
My Old Kentucky Home, Stephen Foster
Fantasy, Ludacris
Man With A Plan, Assembly of Dust

Five snacks I enjoy regularly:
clementine oranges
Baked Cheetos
gum
cookies
Viactiv vitamins

Five things I'd do if I won $100 million:
buy a house or a few
quit my job… even though I like my current one
visit my family in Kentucky and my friends that are strewn about the nation
travel through Europe
save, save, save

Five places I would run away to:
Bedford, Kentucky
Kiawah Island, South Carolina
Jackson Hole, Wyoming
Home
Playa del Carmen, Mexico

Five things I would never wear:
a romper or jumpsuit – I don’t care how trendy they are!
socks with sandals
Duke paraphernalia
blue eyeshadow
white patent leather pumps

Five Favorite TV Shows:
Forensic Files
Modern Family
The Wonder Years
Cheers
Murder, She Wrote

Five Favorite Toys:
Fashion Plates and Fashion Faces
plastic food
Skip-it
puzzles
Barbies

Guess who's back? (Back again!)

2010-05-03T17:14:00.000-07:00

Ahem... Testing, testing. Hi! This is me, coming out of of retirement.

What's that, you say? You've missed me?! Well, MAB, I have missed you too. ;)

What could make a blogger who hasn't posted in over two years come out of retirement? What could be SO big that it would be worth her dusting off her keyboard and committing to a night of recovering her blog password and reading through her previous, pitiful posts?

No, it's not a baby. It's not even a dog. It's something much less significant but almost as exciting (to me). I have discovered a wonder product, and I must share the news of it with those who haven't yet shared in its greatness.

I have always steered clear of getting regular manicures because they just don't last on my fingers. I could get a manicure on Tuesday and by Thursday it would be in complete shambles. Spending $20 on a mani only to have it dissolve after a day and a half frustrated me to NO end. So I preferred naked nails. But I've now discovered a way to get a manicure that lasts...are you ready for this?...TWO WEEKS. I never thought such a thing would be possible. But it is.

I give to you...OPI Axxium gel laquer.

Here is my left paw, after multiple days of wear, picking, and dish washing. This is day 13.

I am not even kidding when I say that this product is the best nail product EVER. It's come to my attention that some ladies do not suffer from the same mani issues as me; they are able to keep a $20 manicure for a reasonable amount of time. But if you're like me and need a stronger option, check out Axxium.

Now. That is a bit of a shallow post for my first one back. But I wanted to get something on the board so that I can (hopefully) start blogging again. There are a million things on my mind lately, 99% of them much more serious than manicures, but this was a start. I'm feeling good about the prospect of rejoining your blogging ranks.

I ::heart:: Nashville

2007-12-10T12:34:00.000-08:00

Dear long underserved readers,

If I can get three people (three!) to comment on this post then I promise (PROMISE!) to start blogging again.

A lot has changed since I last wrote. I've spent nearly six months adjusting to the ways of Texas, more specifically Dallas. I admit it still doesn't quite feel like home.

And now begins my recollection of all things "Nashville," through only somewhat rose-colored lenses. I can't go in to all the reasons why I miss it so much, though friends rank right up there at the top. I don't have enough ways to say Nashville was home and not just a place I lived for a time. But rest assured that there's not a soul I've met in Dallas who doesn't know that there's a town in Tennessee that will always be #1 for me.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing to complain about here, and I stand by my decision to move. I have a good job and opportunity to grow both personally and professionally within that job. I have great friends who make it hard to think about ever leaving this place. I have every kind of shopping, dining, and entertainment within a five mile radius. I have a wonderful man in my life who calms my nerves, puts up with my antics, and most importantly loves me without condition. I can't say this enough: spending time with Bowtie is the best part of my day and an affirmation of why I made the decision to load that Uhual and make the trek.

Still, I find myself pushing away the feelings of "homesick" and "restlessness." I can only trust that God has big plans in store, and I can only hope that someday He'll see it fit to either change my location or change my heart. (Please, Jesus -- sooner than later? Thank you.)

Still can't bring myself to sing "Rocky Top,"
Sarah <3>

This seems funny... That's what she said!

2007-04-30T19:18:00.000-07:00

Heeeeeeey! And you thought I wasn't coming back. Goldilocks has been on a bit of a break (okay, an eight month hiatus with not even so much as a sentence). Y'all have been patient with me, and I make a sincere (albeit unlikely) promise to blog more frequently. The thing is, the wait was worth it! I promise you're going to like this one:

A good and very funny friend (Amy), her husband (Mike), and I were out to dinner at Mellow Mushroom earlier this month. When Amy and I get together there will be laughter, the telling and retelling of stories and jokes, and more laughter. We were deep in conversation -- trading tales about college days, Mike's Japanese clients who love singing karaoke (imagine how funny it would be to hear "You say tomato, I say tomato" when the singer doesn't understand the difference in a long or a short second syllable...! The irony's a bit lost.), and inside jokes from our dance school days -- when Amy suddenly looks over at Mike and says, "we have to tell Sarah about our 40-year old virgin."

Here's the skinny: they have this friend of a friend who is nearing 40-years of age. She has (essentially) never been kissed and is what most of us would consider socially backwards. Or maybe she's just naive. But in any case, she's much like the 40-year old virgin and a group of folks were attempting to help this woman loosen up, learn some pop culture, and improve her social status. We're gonna have to give her a name: how about Jill?

(This is important before we proceed with the story. If you watch "The Office" you know about Michael Scott retorting "that's what she said" whenever anything even remotely sexual is spoken. If you don't watch this show: a. I'm sorry for you; b. check this out before reading the rest of this blog; c. START WATCHING THE SHOW! Okay...so...)

Amy, Mike and the others were trying to teach "Jill" how funny it is to throw in a little "that's what she said" action when you're with friends or in a casual social setting. She seemed to catch on to the concept. A few days later, Jill seized an opportunity to use her new-found punchline...only she delivered it just a little bit off. Instead of the usual "that's what she said," our girl Jill quips, "yeah..........(very pregnant pause)............she said that." And apparently the look on her face was one of total pleasure, as Jill was so sure she had pulled off the joke without a hitch! Hilarious. Seriously, if you're not laughing you need to re-read that out loud...because that's funny. It's also might be a lot better when I tell you in person, but whatever.

Side note: Steve Carell plays both the 40-year old virgin and Michael Scott. The Irony gods have smiled on our story.

And that's how we get back in to blogging. Mary Anna Brown and others, you are WELCOME! :) See you around the bloggin-sphere.

It's the MOST wonderful time of the year

2006-09-06T18:36:00.000-07:00

For four years of college I was a member of my university’s nationally recognized dance company. We put on two major performances a year – one at the end of fall semester and one half-way through the spring semester – and the former was presented with the city’s philharmonic as an annual Christmas “must-see.” It was all kind of a grand event and required a lot of prep work in terms of rehearsals, costuming, scenery, etc. Practices for the December show began in August and in conjunction with the first week of classes. As a result, you might find a dancer humming “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” or “Silver Bells” on a day when you could, quite literally, fry an egg on the sidewalk.

I tell you that to tell you this.

I’ve been conditioned to begin thinking “Christmas” as soon as the “school season” begins…and I’m not even in school anymore! Over the past month and a half, I’ve found myself thinking green and red and beginning to long for the days when the Mix stations will play nothing but carols and hymns. I mean, come on, who out there doesn’t count the days until he/she hears Nat King Cole crooning “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…”? or Brenda Lee bebopping to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas tree”? or Karen Carpenter wailing out “Merry Christmas Darling”? (okay, maybe we could do without that one, Mix-Mas…) And of course any and every popular artist ever doing their own version of “Silent Night” (which I of course don’t mind ‘cause I really love that song and think every child ought to be able to sing its first verse and chorus).

So, anyway, taxicab confession: I popped in Amy Grant’s “A Christmas Album” the other day. I think it was like September 5. And it was definitely 98 degrees outside (a la Nick Lachey).

Regardless, I feel good about the choice. It's allowed me to wax nostalgic about my college years, but I've also discovered that having the Christmas fun last for 4 and a half months is really not such an awful thing. I’m hopeful that others will follow suit and begin to embrace the pre-pre-pre-Christmas excitement.

And tell me you're not singing now...

Weekend Update: halfway through the next week

2006-09-06T17:45:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've been gone for far too long. I have like 16 blog ideas though, so I think you'll (eventually) forgive me. Besides, there are only four of you reading....or are there more? Reveal yourselves.

I went home for Labor Day weekend, back to my Old Kentucky Home. I won't bore you with all of the ins and outs, but I can just tell you want the highlights.

1. Friday night my high school friend Sarah Myers came over to my parents house before she and I went out to catch up for a bit. She was dressed stylishly, complete with pointy-toed stilletos. My father, the family doctor, was deep in discussion with her about...something, it doesn't matter...but all of a sudden he asked about her shoes -- if they were comfortable, where her toes fit into the point, etc. After a couple of minutes of Spanish Inquisition about her footwear I finally asked my dad "why the fascination?" His response: "Well, as a doctor, they kind of bother me." Maybe you have to know my daddy but it was just really funny. Priceless.

2. He and my mother also shared the "Exploding Deer" story with Sarah and me. This is without a doubt the most unbelievable story I've ever heard, but I assure you it is legit. I'll try and be brief which, as you've probably noted from my previous blogs, is not an easy feat. Also, if you're weak-stomached you might wanna just go ahead and skip to point three.

So there's this couple, right? And they're driving down the highway in Virginia. It's the middle of the day. All of the sudden a deer jumps out into the road with the intention of leaping over their vehicle. Only said deer does not so much clear the car. Instead, he hits the driver's side window......and explodes. (I know, I didn't believe it either.) Apparently, the deer's upper portion continued through to the backseat and through the trunk/back window. In the mean time, the deer's heart hit the wife/driver in her own chest and then landed on the console between the couple, still beating and just on top of the husband's still playing iPod. The deer's stomach exploded all over the wife as well; its contents -- mostly poison ivy -- were also spewed onto this dear woman (pun intended). Everything in their trunk -- clothes, guitar, golf clubs -- was covered in gunk. Amazingly the wife did not wreck the car (YAY women drivers!) and pulled off the road, only to have her friends in the car behind them snap photos of the whole scene. I'm still trying to get my hands on those. The EMTs arrived and were shocked and slightly amazed; one of them lost his lunch. They hosed the wife off, but it was too late. She is now suffering from what my dad calls "the worst case of poison ivy I've ever seen." I mean, how do you explain to people how you got that skin malady? I'd probably say, "oh, deer-me, it just took guts." Everyone's hoping they'll take their story to David Letterman. Or maybe Jeff Foxworthy.

3. Let's be honest: after that nothing really seemed too exciting. There was a lot of family fun time at my aunt's 50th birthday party and there was watching the Notre Dame game with some serious fans. There was a touching church tribute to the passengers of downed flight 5191; keep praying for those families by name, y'all. There was the typical "loss but moral victory" UK football game against UofL. There was me driving back to Nashville and getting a stupid speeding ticket from Barney-with-a-lip-goiter in Bardstown. WhatEVER, dude.

4. Okay, so I actually spent Labor Day in Nashville, tanning at the chilly Aspen Grove pool with some of the ladies and then heading out for sushi at P.M. Good times, good times. We win.

So, upon re-reading this post I realize that my life is not really that interesting sometimes, but it was time for an update. And mostly I just wanted a chance to share the Exploding Deer story because, come on, that's a great story. I plan on telling it often.

Miss Miscellaneous

2006-08-18T12:45:00.000-07:00

My whole life I’ve had a great memory. My family even called me “VCR Brain” growing up (I guess they’d call me “TiVo” these days…). Two months after a trip to Disney World I could still recall our parking lot characters/letters from each day’s excursion. So I recognize that others don’t necessarily have the same prowess when it comes to remembering…well, anything…but it never ceases to amaze me when I remember someone and they don’t remember me back.

Just today I ran into someone that I have met several times. We’ve spent enough time in the same crowds that he/she should be able to place my face. But he/she clearly had no clue who I was – not my name, no frame of reference as to where he/she may have met me, nothing.

Which leads me to wonder: am I really that forgettable? I mean, do I make no first impression? Or do others simply not remember people they have seen multiple times? I’m seriously distraught.

And how do I handle such a situation? Do I point out the fact that we have indeed met…several times. Or do I let it slide and chalk it up to my being supreme in all things memory?

The Survey: an uninspired blogger's best friend

2006-08-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

I admit it. I'm 100% uninspired when it comes to my blog right now. But I'm also 100% annoyed every time I come to my own page and see nothing new. So I've resorted to the lamest thing around and opted to post a little survey. Let's be honest though: you love me. And you can't get enough information about me. This may or may not qualify you to be my stalker; competition is fierce.

Read on.

What I was doing ten years ago:
August, 1996. I was preparing for my first year of high school. I was spending the majority of my free time on "dates" with my then boyfriend Jeremy Colliver; this consisted of going to movies (Phenomenon and Emma stick out in my mind), renting movies, going to his soccer games, kissing in the church parking lot, and generally being carted around by one another's parents in their respective mini vans. I was helping my sister move into her freshman dorms at Centre College. I had also (finally) lost the pubescent baby fat that had plaqued my 8th grade year; hooray!

Five years ago:
August, 2001. I was returning to the O(K)C for what would prove to be a rough year of college. Had I only known! But back in August '01, I was readying myself for formal recruitment with my wonderful sorority sisters. I was already experiencing anxiety about class, dance, boys, life, etc. DRAMA abounded. I'm sort of amazed that part of my life was only 5 years ago....glad it's over. NEXT.

One year ago:
August, 2005. I was brand spankin' new to Nashvegas. I was having an absolute blast with my new friends, coming up with TAR references and enjoying live music at every possible turn. I went to the beach with my sissy for her birthday, and we had lots of fun and many heart-to-hearts. I was about to begin working at Stone-Me River, a move that would suck away every little bit of free time I had previously enjoyed.

Yesterday:
August 9, 2006. Overslept, which has been my M.O. as of late. Dressed myself in a really cute pink seersucker jacket and khaki pants. Made it to work just 15 minutes late but ran into all of the senior employees on my way in. Worked for a bit. Had lunch at Calypso with the Bowtie. Worked another bit. Contemplated (once again) how I caught E. coli. Considered blogging but came up empty-minded. Worked til the close of the day. Enjoyed a sunshower as I drove home. Exercised. Showered. Ate a pb and jelly sandwich and had a glass of milk. Cleaned up the apartment. Watched Everybody loves Raymond and Sex and the City reruns with the roomie. Hit the hay, ready for another morning of snooze buttons and frantic showering.

Five songs I know all the words to:
Shameless, Garth Brooks
Killing Me Softly, Fugees version
Fantasy, Ludacris
Man With A Plan, Assembly of Dust
Rockin' Into The Night, .38 Special

Five snacks I enjoy regularly:
pretzels
oatmeal raisin cookies
Diet Coke (I think that counts...)
gum
whatever I can get my hands on

Five things I'd do if I won $100 million:
pay off any debts owed by my family
hire a financial manager
quit my job
donate to worthy causes
visit my friends that are strewn about the nation

Five places I would run away to:
Kiawah Island, South Carolina
Jackson Hole, Wyoming
Bedford, Kentucky
Graeter's Ice Cream Shop, Lexington, Kentucky
I will reserve this last spot in case I ever really want to get away and not be found for awhile

Five things I would never wear:
a dickie
Easy Spirit shoes
large floppy bows in my hair (never wear again, that is)
black and navy together
FUBU

Five Favorite TV Shows:
The Wonder Years
Seinfeld
Cheers
Grey's Anatomy
LOST

Five Favorite Toys:
plastic food (for playing restaurant)
Fashion Plates/Fashion Faces
roller skates
Skip-it
Speak 'n Spell

Well, I had fun anyway! I promise I won't put the blah in blog next time.

Ridin' Flirty

2006-08-01T13:43:00.000-07:00

Finally back to blogger-world; I know all three of my readers have grown restless.

In light of two of said readers’ recent blogs, I thought I’d add my own spin to Chamillionaire’s “Ridin’.” (**See the Diva and the Queen for more input**)

Here’s something you may not know: it’s one of my favorite pastimes to drive with the windows rolled down and the music blaring. I love the exhilaration of acceleration. I love the wind in my ponytailed hair. I love how young and carefree I feel. But I especially enjoy Ridin’ Flirty.

I don’t need the self-esteem boost you might suspect one would get from the honk, wave, or slow-down from the random passersby, but I do find it highly amusing when the less-refined sex resorts to such measures while cruising down I-65.

In my experience there are generally five types of drive-by flirters:

The Commuter. This is the 45-year-old businessman with the left-hand gold band. This is the gentleman who appreciates your appearance and perhaps the fact that you too are on your way to the office. He gives a couple of rearview mirror glances before continuing – illegally – in the HOV lane. He’s not lecherous, he’s just thinking that once upon a time he would have really hit the brakes to take a long hard look.

The Gaggle. These are your teenaged boys that have just left soccer practice and are all doped up on Red Bull and testosterone. One of them – usually the backseat passenger on which ever side you approach – spots you. He clearly states to the rest of his pimply-faced buddies that there’s a chick – any chick – driving by. They all promptly snap their heads in perfect unison to catch a peek. Then they burst into laughter and speed off, embarrassed but slightly proud of themselves for their antics. They’ve already forgotten you a quarter-mile down the road.

The Big-Rigger – Part One. Here is your respectful and friendly truck driver who responds to your solicitation of the oh-so satisfying 16-wheeler honk ::insert right arm raised in an L-shape and motioning up and down::. This may or may not count as DBF because you actually asked for it. But it can be a fun game to assert your flirting prowess over other riders in your car, if there happen to be any. Ladies, try it (especially when driving with dudes as they will be astonished at the ratio of honks to you v. them).
The Big-Rigger – Part Two. Here is your slightly less respectful and more “friendly” truck driver who solicits you with his oh-so unwelcome 16-wheeler honk. Not only are you slightly dismayed at the way he’s looking down on you from miles above, but you’re startled and almost drive into the concrete pile-ons. Thanks, buddy.

The Servicemen. This is perhaps the largest group of drive-by flirters. I’ve noticed that the amount of honks and lewd gestures increases in direct proportion to the number of ladders and/or lawnmowers found in the bed of the passing service truck. But not all servicemen are lecherous. I’d like to give a big shout out to the men of Lee Brothers Heating/Cooling who seem to understand the difference between warming a woman’s heart and turning her stomach.

And finally The Prospect. Yes, they are few and far between but occasionally there is a vehicular advance that comes from someone who is (seemingly) worthy of your attention, however brief the moment. He slows down to admire you, your car, your musical selection if he can hear it. You also check out him out, recognizing his clothing style, his well-maintained ride, his bumper stickers (or lack thereof), and that all-important left hand. You exchange smiles from behind your dark sunglasses and drive off in your separate directions. While you may never see your Roadside Romeo again, you can be sure he will think about you for at least the next two exits and wonder if your paths may ever cross again. Perhaps you both travel that very roadway at the same time each day?! Whatever the case, these are the DBF that make all the other, less enticing ones bearable.

Mid-Terms

2006-07-16T16:12:00.000-07:00

You want a good laugh? Remember your New Year's Resolutions!

I saw that quote printed in a Maxine cartoon seven or eight Julys ago and have always found it to be beyond amusing. But I also pull it out every summer and think about what I've accomplished in that given year. It's July 16 so we're just past the halfway mark for 2006; I admit I wouldn't so much earn a passing grade if I were being judged on my results or even my efforts in reaching my goals to this point. But here's to rededicating, reevaluating, and rejuvenating the plan!

Here, on this 16th day of July, 2006, I re-resolve to do the following:

1. Return personal phone calls and emails in a timely fashion.

2. Exercise daily.

3. Cook more meals/eat fewer meals at restaurants.

4. Take chances when it comes to romance.

5. Eat more slowly. (I've actually done fairly well on this one!)

6. Volunteer and serve my community in a meaningful way.

I'm pretty sure there were other resolutions listed way back on my 24th birthday, but the fact that I don't even remember them probably says something about their importance. And I want to give myself a fighting chance when it comes to accomplishing these goals; too many this late in the game would be unfair.

Actually, I'm gonna add one more that wasn't on the original-now-abbreviated list:

7. Speak my mind more often.

So now they're public-ish and you can hold me accountable. Or not. We've only got a few months until the big NYE rolls in again...

And FYI: the chocolate gooey butter cookies turned out well. Really well. :-) yay!

Recipe Ruminations

2006-07-09T18:53:00.000-07:00

I've been on this big cooking kick lately. By "big" I mean "slight, but really above average for me" and by "lately" I mean "the last week or so." I know it won't last that long because it never has before, but every time I go on one of these cooking cavorts or baking binges I ask myself, "Self, why don't you do this more often?" I get so much joy out of trying my hand at a recipe, whether it's a family favorite or a new treat. Added bonus when other people legitimately enjoy the dish!

This week has afforded me the opportunity to try a little bit of everything. I made up a batch of the super side, Ramen Noodle Salad, which is a recipe I'm really familiar with and could probably do in my sleep. Then I mixed up a batch of my semi-famous chicken enchiladas (which I've also done a million times) and a Key Lime pie; both received rave reviews from myself and others. And finally, tonight, I've tried a brand new recipe (for this baker, anyway) by one Paula Deen, Reigning Culinary Queen of the South. I'm making her Chocolate Gooey Butter Cookies and hmm, they concern me a bit. I'm not quite sure these turned out A. how they're supposed to and B. to my satisfaction. I'll be forcing my Bible Study girls to try them out tomorrow; y'all will have to let me know if this one is a keeper or not. More to come.

I've decided that my interest and enjoyment in cooking is multi-pronged. For one, I get a certain satisfaction from following directions and getting known results; cooking -- especially baking -- is so scientific. You really can't screw it up if you actually do what the recipe says. That being said, I am somehow a much better chef than pastry puff...anyway... Secondly, it gives me a sense of connection to important women in my life, past and present, who have passed along their most praise-worthy recipes. Recreating a dish that brings back memories of family dinners past makes me happy because I know I will be able to carry on our traditions, but it also gives me the feeling that I'm moving from childhood to womanhood. Thirdly, and perhaps most of all, I'm competitive. When I'm able to master a recipe, whether known or unknown, and then be complimented on that creation, it is no lie that my ego swells a bit. An honest evaluation, if nothing else...Lastly, I really, really, really love leftovers. Bring 'em on.

I'm trying to enjoy this little phase for as long as I can. If history is any indication I've got another few days before I revert back to the "cooking for one-to-two people is too time consuming and I'm too busy and I don't want to go to the grocery and I'd rather have Subway" mentality. But this is fun while it lasts, huh?!

100-percent Pure Nerd

2006-07-06T07:39:00.000-07:00

Chances are good that if you have met me you know that I’m a dork. (Actually, even those of you who haven’t had the fortune of meeting me probably know this…but whatever.) My family is a bunch of nerds – mom read encyclopedias growing up and dad knows the scientific names for all things flora and fauna – so I come by it naturally. I recognized and came to terms with my inability to escape dorkiness a long time ago, but every now and then I get to feeling like I’m maybe a little bit cool. And that’s when God decides to throw it back in my face that I am oh-so-uncool.

Top Five Signs I Might Never Be Able To Establish Street-Cred Should I Ever Decide To Foster My Budding Hip-Hop Career

5. My ex-boyfriend tells me I’m “quirky.” Quirky? Not necessarily the best connotation there, buddy. But at least he did say that was one of the things he liked about me…which probably means he’s a huge nerd too. Super.

4. I scroll through pictures from the last year or so only to realize that, in 85% of them, I am making some lame face/hand motion, performing random acts of overt nerdiness, or scaring small children. (Photos to come if I can ever figure out how to post them...help!)

3. I discuss (without the slightest bit of shame) my frequent use of the internet to research the menus of restaurants at which I will eat later in the day. I embarrassed to say that, until this week, I never knew other people didn’t do this. But I’m also proud to say I found a fellow internet nerd and restaurant stalker; three cheers for Queen MAB!

2. I go to a party and meet lots of new people. I find out the next day they have given me a new nickname. “Sweet,” I think, “what is this ultra cool new nickname?!” Are you ready for this? They give me “Cute as a Button.”

1. As I’m driving down the interstate singing every single word to “Always” by Atlantic Star, I am also playing the license plate game. This is a little something my dad and I have always done, where you try and come up with the best word using the three letters in the license plate in front of you. The letters must be in order and you can not use personal nouns. You get points for length of word, originality, and speed in coming up with an answer. Bonus for choosing a word that does not begin with the first letter in the set of three. Example: License plate is SEL 394. Your answer of “seal” would be suitable, but the longer, more unique, and more advanced word of “visceral” would win you that round. The fact that I, a. actually know these “rules,” b. actually play this “game”…by myself no less, and c. do so while singing the most awesomely bad ‘80s ballad EVER all make it so clear...

And those are just from the past week. Totally cool, I am.

But then there’s this antidotal anecdote to my nerd quandary -- This year in Lexington, KY there were four entities which had the legal right to ignite fireworks: the City of Lexington, the Lexington Country Club, the Kentucky Horse Park…and my parents’ annual Fourth of July soiree. That’s a little bit badass, I’m not gonna lie.

P.S. Happy 1-year Anniversary to Me and Nashville!!! I couldn't be happier with how things are going; I love you! xoxo

That last, long dinner bell

2006-06-27T06:27:00.000-07:00

"The countdown is on. In less than 24 hours, (Tennessee will put) two convicted murderers to death. Paul Reid and Sedley Alley are scheduled to die early Wednesday morning by lethal injection." --Channel 5 News

No doubt you and I, like most human beings, have strong opinions one way or the other on capital punishment. And I don't mean to downplay the importance of the ongoing argument about the death penalty, the implications, the fairness, blah blah, etc. Seriously, I don't; I think capital crimes need to be debated to find the best solution for the most people. But this thought occured to me this morning while I was listening to the Channel 5 News: other countries may give last meals but only in America would we make such a big deal out of it.

Again, I'm not making light of the situation, but it seems that we prove the stereotype that all Americans are food-obsessed when we broadcast to millions of viewers that Convict X will be served pot roast, corn on the cob, and apple pie a la mode for his last meal. The sad part is, we really do care...or, I at least admit to being somewhat morbidly fascinated with what people choose to consume on their last day on earth.

I tell you that to tell you this: I'm completely, 100% disappointed in the choices Sedley Alley and Paul Reid have made.

Here's the run-down. Paul Reid's choices are bad but not heinous. He's asked for French toast, peanut butter, bananas, German chocolate cake and milk. Where's the beef?! Where's the the sustinence for entering the netherworld? I can deal with his requests though; he did throw in German chocolate cake (also, anyone else notice a very international theme in his last meal plan?)

But then there's Sedley. He has asked for ice cream, iced oatmeal cookies, milk...and pepperoni pizza Hot Pockets. Seriously? HOT POCKETS?! I did a double-take to the tv and then had to research online. Yes, kids, he wants to savor the crisp crust and melted cheese interior that only a hot pocket can offer. I just can't put into words my amazement.

It did get me thinking: what would I choose for my last supper? I think it'd go something like this: a huge whiskey sour and sweet tea to drink, Lexingtonian salad from Malone's, De'Sha's cornbread and real butter, a huge medium-rare steak, loaded mashed potatoes, Kentucky wonder beans, coconut cream pie, and a scoop of Graeter's ice cream -- any flavor. Or I'd just ask my grandma to fix up a Christmas dinner.

Check out more last meal requests. Will the wonders never cease?!

Okay, now I'm hungry.

Good times, good times

2006-06-25T10:48:00.000-07:00

This weekend was the most fun!

The work week came to an anticlimactic end but Friday night made up for it. Lisa and I met up with Mary Anna, Rhonda, and Mandy at our local Logan's Roadhouse for some hot eats and cool treats. Lisa caught us up on her possible new job while M.A. and I shared meaningful conversation about life's most important accessories and our waiter serenaded us with "Friends are Friends Forever." Our long-lost Arkansan, Jamey, and his company of buddies arrived...and not a minute too soon. We ladies were in real need of sustinence. The next Hour was certainly Happy as we enjoyed some of the Roadhouse's finest beverages, food, and beverages. After taking some pix with our Male Model waiter and, per usual, proving our ability to be "that" table no matter where we go, our dinner reached its denouement. But our evening was just beginning...

The whole gang of us -- ten in all -- made a quick stop at the Publix for afterdinner refreshments before heading on to the Sorority House (aka mine and Lisa's apartment). I don't recall exactly where that nickname originated, but I have a feeling that the college co-ed antics of the night have solidified that moniker for awhile. We tried playing Imaginiff but quickly devolved towards Circle of Death. There were no survivors with the most wounded of players being yours truly. Oops! Everyone seemed to have a great time, and it's nice to know that even if you aren't still in college you can certainly act like it. Here's to being young and fabulous!

Saturday morning was not necessarily a welcome sight after our late, late Friday night, but nevertheless Lisa, me, and our three overnight guests awoke and did our best impression of "chipper" and "alert." Lisa was a wonderful hostess and made up a batch of her semi-famous pancakes; everyone was very impressed. She and I hustled about to ready ourselves for our next big adventure -- canoeing down the Red River.

We met up with the other 50 or so Single Focus canoers and were on our way. Our car -- Amy, Rhonda, Emily, Lisa, and me -- jammed out to Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Pure Prairie League, and Alabama. Paddle partners were chosen, life jackets were distributed, and boats were loaded up. Lisa, the more senior canoer, took the back seat while I, the novice, plopped down in the front of the canoe. It took the better part of two hours but she and I finally got a rhythm going and were quite successful at navigating the shallow waterway. About two-thirds of the way down the river we came upon several of our friends who were stopped to play in the water. Eventually, the whole lot of twenty-something single peeps paused to float themselves instead of their boats. Good times were had by all, and it was a much needed break for our arms, backs, and butts!

Our three-plus hours of exertion had left us in serious need of showers and calorie replenishment. We did our best to freshen up at our site's less-than-sanitary public facilities, but I'm afraid no amount of reapplying half-melted deoderant or makeup could help our wilted appearance. But we were all in the same boat, so no worries there. Our trusty trip coordinator Chris had arranged for a fabulous dinner of Whitt's bar-b-que and watermelon at his parents' home. We all dove into the fruit, disregarding social decorum by spitting seeds onto the grass and letting the sweet pink watermelon juice drip down our already dirty chins. It was a hilarious sight!

The food was delicious, but the absence of dessert was conspicuous. Emily, Amy, and I were discussing the need for something sweet, specifically peach cobbler, when the sweet tea we were drinking kicked in. The more sweet tea we drank the more intense our frustration and anger over the lack of dessert became. And the more we drank, the funnier we got (at least in our own minds). As Lisa and I chatted through hand motions across the haystack circle, Emily quipped, "Did you just sign where the &#*! is the peach cobbler?!" And that's pretty much where our little group lost it. We laughed and laughed, prompting others to ask what was so funny. I don't think they really got it...

Spurred on by our need for a treat, the five of us left the party and dropped in on Sonic, America's Drive-in. I enjoyed the fantastically minute Chocolate-Carmel Banana Split. Oh, so good!! Our appetites were satisfied but we were growing more tired with each passing moment. Amy dropped us all off at BBC, and we each went our respective ways. It was a wonderful, great, and fun-filled day, and I learned that I can in fact enjoy physical activity in the woods. Who knew?!

So that's the weekend in review. (Nothing thought-provoking, I realize, but until I get the hang of this blogger thing that's what you get.) Every weekend is good, but this one was great! I'm rejuvenated for the work week ahead.

Side note: Big shout out to Mary Anna "Queen MAB" Brown for her public announcement of my blogger beginnings.

Why Goldilocks, what blonde hair you have!

2006-06-21T07:35:00.000-07:00

Why Goldilocks?

Well for starters, my hair is blonde – no, not just blonde, but mid-way down my back, thick, curly, and blonde. And no matter what nature, age, or fashion may try and dictate, I will always have blonde hair.

More than that, though, I feel a certain affinity for Goldie and her “try it on for size” mentality. There are choices to be made, and Goldilocks is presented with options – any of which might satisfy her otherwise insatiable needs. Ultimately, she’s one who’s actually gotta try all that’s offered before she can discern what passes muster and what deserves the big thumbs down. (At least that’s my excuse for never being able to make a decision…)

I’ve also always had a sincere love for nursery rhymes and children’s stories. Who wouldn’t want to live in a world where things were guaranteed a “once upon a time”-beginning and a “happily ever after”-ending, no matter what happened in between? (No, seriously, who are you people? That’s not rhetorical. Talk to me.)

And that’s it. This is my first solo foray into blogger-dom, and I’m a bit wary of making any long-term commitments to posting often. I’m a lot wary of making any long-term commitments to being entertaining on a regular basis. But check back every now and then; we’ll have story time.

Quote of the day: “I am blonde. Just as I am Christian, Southern, and Republican, I am blonde. But I know that my heart would shine just as platinum had I not been blessed with golden locks.” – H. Anderson