Fight Night July 3, 2009

So, D and I had a little tiff yesterday. Over something stupid. (Aren’t all arguments usually about something stupid?) Don’t worry, everything’s fine now. Actually, looking back at it, it is more funny now than anything else.
It all started when I got defensive about something and sort of went overboard. D took offense at that, and thus an argument was born.
Let me tell you this, I could argue with a fence post. Don’t get me wrong, I think I am very easy to get along with, but I could argue about something til I was blue in the face. (I think I should have been a politician, haha.)
D is the opposite. He just ignores. Then he cools down and forgets about it.
We argued. D went outside. I decided that I must go outside too, because IT WAS SO NOT OVER! (Typical female much?)
So, we argued outside. If the neighbors had popped outside, they would have gotten a free show, this stuff is better than television. Plus, they could have interjected their opinions about who was right, adding a whole other element to the argument. (It would also make up for the time that D and I got to watch the guy’s old girlfriend throw his stuff into the pool.)
We argued. Words were exchanged.
Then, we realized how stupid it was.
And started to laugh.
Argument over.
We apologized, and laughed some more.
Have you ever noticed that you aren’t exactly at your most clever when you are angry? You tend to say things that, upon reflection, are pretty funny.
D and I really don’t argue that much. But when we do, we try to do these things:
1. Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight, you can sleep later. No, no, I am kidding! I know it sounds cliched, but seriously, agree to disagree before you go to sleep. You won’t sleep well anyway if you don’t, and when you wake up in the morning it will feel so much better to not have to re-hash all the details of what happened.
2. Don’t call each other names. Seriously, I know that sounds like something to tell a five year old, but just don’t. Sure, it may make you feel better at the time, but it doesn’t really add a whole lot of credit to your side of the argument if every other word is “asshole”.
3. Don’t make empty threats. Don’t say things like “I am leaving” or “Don’t ever talk to me again.” You will regret it instantly AND you have just made yourself look like a jerk.
4.Don’t bring other people into it. I mean, if we were arguing about whether “mary had a little lamb” and “jingle bells” were the same tune, it wouldn’t be a REAL argument and ok to ask someone else’s opinion. (Yes, that really happened once, and D, I don’t care what you say, they ARE NOT THE SAME TUNE. : )  ) When you bring other people into it, it not only makes them very uncomfortable, they might not take the side you thought they would, which will probably result in ANOTHER argument, with that person.

5. If you have to say “I’m sorry” do it sincerely and mean it.  Don’t snarl a “Sorry!” at the other person, that just pisses them off more.

So, that’s Dr. Rachel’s unsolicited advice for the day.

And to you D, I love you you big lug!

Girl’s Night Out July 2, 2009

Last night I went out with some of my very favorite friends for some much needed girl time. I hadn’t gotten to see these friends since school let out in May, and I had missed them terribly.

First I went out for a fabulous dinner with my friend Ivy. We’ve been friends since freshman year. Actually, she was probably the first real friend I made at college.  Oh sure, I had made lots of acquaintances, but no real paint-my-fingernails and hold-my-hair-while-I-barf friends.

This is us then:

This is our Junior year re-do of the same picture:

She’s the best. One of those people you can ALWAYS count on to be there, no matter what.
Like I was saying, we went out for a GREAT dinner, then to a movie with some more friends. We saw “My Sister’s Keeper.” Oh dear. You need kleenex. A lot. I expected to cry at the end of the movie, but man, I cried the whole time! A great chick-flick. Guys don’t get sad movies, which is why I’m glad I went with my girls.
After the movie, we needed some ice cream for comfort. So we went and ate ice cream with hot fudge, then back to Ivy’s apartment for a photo shoot with Abby, her roommate and another great friend that went to the movie with us.
Here are our results:

This was my favorite. I’m in the middle. I have no clue what I was looking at. I might also add that I had already cried most of my make-up off.

I love my friends.

Coming Soon To A State Near You…. June 30, 2009

I’ve always wanted to see all 50 states.    Here is a list of all the states I’ve visited:

1. Tennessee (born here, lived here entire life)

2. Kentucky

3. Georgia

4. Alabama

5. Florida

6. West Virginia

7. Maryland

8. Illinois

9. Pennsylvania

10.  New Jersey

11. New York

12. Virginia

So, so far I’ve seen a little more than 1/5 of the states.  I want to work in some more this summer. Some states I think I can feasibly go to this summer are:

1. Mississippi. It’s not that far, and we have family in Memphis, so  I’m not terribly sure why I’ve never been there before?

2.  Arkansas. Again, not that far.

3. Missouri. Not too far and there are some interesting things there, like St. Louis and the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum.

4. North Carolina (I’ll for sure be passing through here in the fall)

5. South Carolina (Ditto, I’ll be going here in the fall too.)

So if I visit all those states this year, I will have seen 17 states, not too bad.

The states I want to visit MOST( but probably won’t get there THIS summer) are:

1. Washington State

2. Oregon

3. Hawaii

Some interesting places I want to visit soon:

1. Washington D.C.-I would LOVE to go here and I’ve never been. It actually wouldn’t make a bad road trip though….I really would love to see the Smithsonian. And of course the White House.

2. Chicago, IL-Again, it wouldn’t be a bad road trip (Closer than D.C.) and there are lots of things I would like to see…and D has really been wanting to take me to a baseball game (yeah, I’ve never been, it’s not a big thing around here)…so maybe I could persuade D into taking a road trip soon….

3.  The beach…ok, so I’ve been to the beach too many times to count, but who doesn’t want to go to the beach?!

4. The Corvette Plant in KY. Vroom vroom.

5.  The Smoky Mountains…this is in my home state, and yet I have never been there, a for sure must do on my list.

There are many, many, MANY more places and states I want to visit, but these are the ones that I want to get to soon.

Where have you been?

Where are you going this summer?

Today… June 29, 2009

We have had beautiful weather.

sitting on the porch

sitting on the porch

I Need To Write My Own Prescription June 29, 2009

I went to the doctor today for what I think is some sort of spider bite.

The doctor agreed,  saying that there was no way to know for sure what got ahold of me, but some sort of creepy crawly. (Creepy-crawlies are rampant in Tennessee, home to 2 kinds of poisonous spiders (black widows and brown recluses), four kinds of poisonous snakes (including a type of rattlesnake), bees, wasps, hornets,  two kinds of scorpions, fireants, stinging caterpillars, and conenose beetles. Want to come visit me?)

Don’t get me wrong, I am greatful for the antibiotic prescription for the bite (which he said was getting infected) but it is slightly irritating to me that I had to pay a $25 co-pay and then be examined for approximately 45 seconds to be told that it indeed was some sort of insect bite (or sting, he said it could have been a sting, but I don’t remember being stung recently), and that I needed to take some antibiotics and allergy medicine, along with putting neosporin on it.

I mean, I already had been taking benadryl. I already put neosporin on it.  All I needed was the prescription.  (And ok, having the doctor look at it got my mom off my back about it, she was worried about it.)

So, I have arrived at the conclusion that I just need my own prescription pad…..and a medical degree to know which prescriptions to write.

Don’t Worry, I Know Where He Sleeps June 28, 2009

Today was hot. And humid. Not that that is out of the ordinary in Tennessee, but it was hot.

D and I decided to cool off by taking a dip in the pool.

Did I ever tell you that D loves to play all kinds of tricks?

I was happily swimming in the pool, when D all of a sudden STOPS and says “Uh-Oh, I think we have a problem.” This should have alerted me to the fact that he was about to pull some stunt, but you know, being the ever trusting individual that I am, I swam over to see what was the matter. “What’s wrong?” I asked, using my most concerned voice. “Something weird on the bottom of the pool, don’t worry, I’ll get it and see what it is.” he replied, using an equally concerned voice, another clue which should have alerted me to the fact that something fishy was going on, because I should know by now that D does not give a shit about what is on the bottom of the pool. As long as the water’s cool, he’s happy.  I on the other hand, am always unconvinced that the cloudiness of the water is really caused by the messed up sand filter, and instead caused by something more sinister. (I’ve never quite figured out what, but I know it is not good.)

So D goes down to the bottom of the pool, and brings something up in his hand. Something that DOES NOT LOOK GOOD.  Something WITH A TAIL. “It’s a dead mouse!” D yells, rather gleefully.

By this time, I am heading for the pool ladder, with D close behind me.  He grabs me and turns me around, waving it in my face.

I scream bloody murder.

D starts laughing so hard he turns purple.

It was a fucking SEED POD from one of the stupid bushes by the pool.

Oh D, you are so getting it. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but I will get you back.

Maybe you should sleep with one eye open!!!!!!

I have to admit though, it was a pretty good trick. The seed pods are long and round with a “tail” that attatches them to the bush, and they do look a lot like a mouse.

Ok D, good trick, but maybe you should still consider sleeping with one eye open.

I Don’t Think I Got My Money’s Worth…. June 27, 2009

What would YOU do if you suspected someone was talking about your, um decolletage, IN FRONT OF YOU?

I shall set the scene for you.

D and I attended a party recently, and a woman was there that I do not particularly care for. I am always nice and civil to her when I actually see her (which is truly not often) but she does not seem to like me. It’s fine, I don’t like everyone, everyone is not going to like me, I really don’t care. I’m not sure why she doesn’t like me, but I don’t like her either, so we are even.

Well anyway, she was seated near us, WHISPERING to her friend/acquaintance/whoever the hell they were and looking at me.
Lady, you were like 3 FREAKING feet away! Not cool! It was fairly noisy in there so I couldn’t hear everything, and to be honest, I can’t even know for sure she was talking about me. Let’s just go with the assumption that she was, mkay?

I’ll not go into everything overheard, let’s just say the words “Oh my gah, how big and fake” were mentioned.
Well, I could have about just peed my pants laughing. Lady, you crack me up. My ladies may not be small, but I guarantee you they would have been a hell of a lot bigger if I had paid for them. I would have paid extra to get the ones that don’t require the support of an industrial strength sports bra so that exercising wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass. (overshare coming, watch out) I also would have gotten the stretch mark free version.  (Ok, stretch marks only visible to me, but still there.)  Trust me, if I paid for them, I would let you know. I would have them jacked up to my chin level at all times.  I would have showed up to the party in a frigging bikini top. I would wear a shirt that said “I Heart My Big Fake Boobs”.

Seriously lady, where do you think I would have gotten the money for this? I am in college.  Which is probably the reason for the size of the ladies anyway. Let’s just say the “freshman 15 30″ went straight to that area. Woo hoo!  So my “boob job” is not the result of silicone, but the result of eating snickers bars during all night study sessions.  I don’t recommend this method  because you can’t really control the flow of fat.  Sure, I ended up with the girls, but I also got a big butt and hips to match.

So Miss Party-Whispering-Lady, you should not talk about people in front of them, especially if you are not a quiet whisperer. Oh, and I heard what you said to that one lady’s husband.

Mind your manners lady.

From The Fishbowl June 26, 2009

“And we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year”-”Wish You Were Here”, Pink Floyd

Happy 3rd Anniversary D. I love you.

2006

2007

2008

2009

My Sister, The Strange One June 25, 2009

My sister is hilarious. She doesn’t try to be. She just is.  She has this deadpan sense of humor, and a sense of timing that is either horrible or terrific, depending on how you look at it.

She is horrificaly blunt.  She does not say hello when she answers the phone. She says “What?”.  Don’t bother her with chatting. She will ask you what you want. You tell her and move on with your life. Do not expect a long drawn out conversation.

Don’t get me wrong, she is very chatty and personable in person, just not on the phone.

She loves nothing more than to make fun of cheesy local commercials. A few minutes ago we were watching tv and this cheesy rug sale commercial came on, you know, one of those cheesy local commercials where you can tell they probably paid the announcer with a six pack of bud light and a carton of cigarettes? (Not that I’m knocking it, I’ll work for diet coke and a bag of puffy cheetos.)  Well anyway, the annoucer was shrieking about rugs when my sister, totally deadpan,  drops her newspaper and shrieks “OH MY GOD, IT’S RUGS, I’M GOING TO PISS MYSELF!” Maybe it was one of those “you had to be there” type moments, but it was freaking funny.

A few minutes later, when she had picked her newspaper back up, and I went back to watching the news, she all of a sudden says “Isn’t it weird that we have hair growing under our arms? Strange.”

She doesn’t MEAN to be funny with stuff like that, she just is.

Her sense of timing is hilarious. I don’t care if you are watching the saddest movie ever seen,  she might just blurt out some random observation or question.

I’ve been trying to spend more time with my sis, she’s in the military and leaving for boot camp soon.  I can’t believe it, my tiny sissy, the one that I held at the hospital when she was born, off at boot camp.  I still remember when we were small, and how I tortured her to no end. I feel badly about this now, but I think there is some rule somewhere that says big sisters have to torture little sisters. Maybe I read that in the Big Sister’s Manual. Of course, I used to beat her up all the time. That stopped when she beat me up. I never tried again, and I’m still pretty sure she could kick my ass, even though I have a good 4  inches on her and at least 40 lbs. (I’m tall and curvy, she’s small  and wiry, but don’t get me wrong, she can pick me up and lift me off of the floor.)

I will miss my sis when she leaves, my random adventures won’t be the same without her. We always get lost. I remember one time driving around with her (I was maybe 16 or 17, she was 13 or 14)  and with no idea what the other was going to say, blurting out “Where the hell are we?”  Or now,  when we listen to the Ramones and “Blitzkrieg Bop” comes on and we turn it up full blast and sing along.

I think I’m gonna go give her a hug.

And she will probably ask me what I want.

Then What Is The Point? June 25, 2009

Ok, so I am attempting to make a dermatologist’s appointment, nothing major, but something I would rather have addressed sooner than later. So, I do what most reasonable people in need of an appointment do: I call them on the telephone, which I foolishly believed was customary in this neck of the woods.

Here is how the conversation follows:

Derm’s Office: “HELLO. DOCTAH’S OWFICE. HOW MAY I HELP YEW?” (NASAL!)

Me: “Hello. I would like to make an appoinment to be seen. I-”

Derm’s Office: “THIS IS AN ANSWERING SERVICE! WE CAN’T DO THAT! CALL BACK AT ONE-THIRTY! THANK YEW!”

Me: “Oh. Ok. Tha-”

Derm’s Office: Click.

Forgive me, but I don’t get the whole answering service thing. I think if they are going to pick up the phone, then they should be able to schedule an appointment or two. Ya know, just for shits and giggles?

Fast forward to scene two, in which I decide to call my ob/gyn’s office for an appointment. You know, just because no one has scraped my cervix with a spatula in awhile, and it’s feeling a little lonely.

Dudes! I am not kidding! THE SAME WOMAN ANSWERED THE PHONE, OR MAYBE HER CLONE!

Ob/Gyn’s Office: “DOCTAH’S OWFICE. CAN YA HOLD?”

Me: giggle-snort laughing, can’t manage to mutter more than a “uh-huh”

Ob/Gyn’s Office: Retaliates by putting me on hold for SEVEN MINUTES.

Not to be a bother, but uh, if a baby was about to come shooting out my cooch, this would have been enough wait-time  to cause alarm.   Luckily, no such baby shall be sliding down that chute today, so I didn’t really care all that much.  Plus I did laugh, so I’m sure I deserved some sort of punishment.

To be fair though, the phone was picked back up by a very nice young man, who I thankfully did not have to regale with any horror stories of my reproductive system. (Remember last summer and the cyst THAT WOULD NOT DIE? I really would have hated to have had to tell this nice polite man that I thought my ovary was about to pop off.)

Apparently both offices will be back in at one-thirty.  I predict I will forget and not call for another month.