Laughing baby

Maybe the cutest baby ever. Who knew door stoppers were so funny?

Oh my!

Pregnant 10.5 years of her life? Jim Bob Duggar's wife has been.

Read about her and her 17 children here.

Sex Ed to Kindergarteners?

I don't think so.

It's just not appropriate.

"But it’s the right thing to do, to provide age-appropriate sex education, science-based sex education in schools." -Barack Obama

When Obama was put on the spot as to what exactly the sex education to 4 to 6 year olds would consist of, he really couldn't answer except to say this...

He "moved to clarify" that he "does not support teaching explicit sex education to children in kindergarten. . . 'Nobody's suggesting that kindergartners are going to be getting information about sex in the way that we think about it,' Obama said. 'If they ask a teacher 'where do babies come from,' then providing information that the fact is that it's not a stork is probably not an unhealthy thing. Although again, that's going to be determined on a case by case basis by local communities and local school boards.'"

I honestly believe that children that young should be taught that boys and girls have different "parts" and that's it. There's really no reason to burden them with more information than that.

Let them play with their dolls, play Indians and Chiefs or whatever else kids play these days. If they ask questions, answer them openly and honestly. Don't hide anything or make sexual things sound dirty.

But for God's sake, don't sit them down in a classroom and teach them more than they need to know about sex a good 6-9 years before puberty even hits.

Look at the kids to the right. Can you honestly tell me that these children need to know the intricacies of sex? Let them learn the ABCs and ask questions like "Why is the grass green", "Why is the sky blue", before we start in with sex. They'll have the rest of their lives to worry about sex.

Let them be innocent...even if it's just for a little while.

What a "Bass"inine Thing to Do!

Ha. Ha. Ha. "Bass"inine! Ha. Ha. Ha. Get it?! Like asinine?! Only with a bass?! Oh, keep reading, you'll get the correlation in a minute.

Oh, it's early...and sometimes...when I'm tired...I crack myself up.

Anywho.

Well, I read an article this morning, while sipping some java and perusing my Google Reader, about Albert Gore.

Good ole Al.

His efforts at environmental conservation and reducing carbon footprints - when his is incredibly large - are well intended. And his Live Earth celebration stirred up much criticism regarding all the air travel and waste that was produced because of the concerts.

It's just, well...you've got to walk your talk...or well, you'll reap what you sew.

Anyway, he's in a new hot-bed of environmental hypocrisy.

Apparently, at his daughter's wedding over the weekend he served Chilean Sea Bass. What's the big deal, you ask? Well, it's only one of the most endangered fish in the world. (Although, you can read this article for a dissenter's opine).

Why do I care? Well, my dad's a fisheries biologist/conservationist...and I, well...dislike hypocrites very much.

Oh well. I just want Gore to be a real conservationist. A real giant for the green. A green giant...if you will.

Happy Wednesday. That's what I've got for this morning. Will be in touch and hopefully not bitter later. :)

On Family

Family is a weird thing.

From birth, you’re placed into this unit of people and told to love them because they are your blood – and because family is all you really have in this world. These people, to whom you are inexplicably tied, come to your major life events, share your holidays, and perhaps, know your deepest family skeletons. They are people who you might not get along with, might not like and might not want to love. But for some reason, you do.

That being said, my mom’s mom and I were never close. She was always cold, brusque, and more than often, curt. She never read to me, never let me curl up on the couch with her and never cooked the dinners she knew I would like. She was vain, opinionated and always stubborn. I begged my parents to not leave me alone with her. It was always awkward and boring.

Though it may seem this way, my grandma has not passed away, at least not physically. She has Alzheimer’s and has slowly been slipping from my family’s grip for a little over two years.

The degenerative process didn’t start the way they say. Loosing keys, forgetting names, and places. She forgot weird things, like how to use the phone, the microwave and the oven. We would call her on the phone, talk for a bit and at some point, she would set the phone down, and walk off calling your name…trying to find you.

One hot, Alabama summer day, she trapped rambunctious children in her storage room. She said they were running through her yard, trampling her flowers and needed to be taught a lesson. At least that’s what she thought. My aunt rushed over to her house, ran from her car, swung open the storage room door and found not one child.

She would talk to you normally, then look to your side, and ask Fred what he thought, or ask you to take a look at Fred, look at him napping. Fred was my grandpa who died when I was in fourth grade. Being alone with her at this point was far from boring as it had been in my younger years, now it was just far too creepy.

The mind is a scary and wonderful thing.

Recently, she slipped into what can be likened to a coma-like state. She’s alive and doing all of the needed bodily functions on her own. But she rarely opens her eyes, she never sits up, and when she speaks, it is barely audible or understandable.

On the way to the beach last week, the Genius wanted to know the reasons behind my desire to see my grandma. What I came up with made me feel confused. I wanted to go and see her, but why?

Was it for me? Yeah. I’m not sure that I would be okay with myself having passed through the very town she was in, and not stopped. And honestly, there was a little part of me that was curious. Was she really as bad as my mom had said?

Was it for her? Sure. If there was any glimmer of hope that she was in there, somewhere in the depths of her mind, I wanted her to know that her family was there. Loving her, supporting her, and praying for her.

Because that’s what family does, that’s what we’re here for.

We may not get along and we may not have chosen the individuals that make up our unit, but this is who we have. The members of our families represent our pasts and our futures.

We are tied to these people as we are tied to no one else in this world. Sure, you can leave them…but they will always be there in your history and I can pretty much guarantee that you will always think of them, be it fondly or not.

My mom read my blog...

...you know, the one about decisions. Well, she had a few things to say, tried to post them but couldn't quite get the knack of posting a comment down...

Well, ladies and gentlemen, here is my mom's response to "Decisions". I have the best mom...ever (Hi, mom!).

"First and foremost, in this life, the only life we will have, I want you to be incredibly happy, self fulfilled, motivated, assured of your decisions, creative, and, believe that no matter which route you chose, as long as you are happy, that I will be completely happy. And, that will be because you have found yourself and are satisfied within yourself. After all, that is what happiness is. It's not how much money you make, but, if you are happy in doing what you do in life and with the money you make can you do the things that bring you happiness. It's a blend.

And, as to having children...that is absolutely personal. Not everyone can be a mother, or do a good job at it, or even want to be. I don't believe when I was in my teens Iwas ever even asked that question or even considered whether or not I did or did not want to be a mother...I just was. It was just there, maybe, even expected. I don't know, I just never really thought about it. However, later, I did. I wanted to be a mother...it was a choice, a decision. I know I made the right choice...because you are here. And, oh, how I love you. But, I will assuredly not be disappointed if you choose not to have children in any fashion..that is your choice. I love you just the way you are. With or without grandchildren. That is truly how I feel.

And, if you were a barrista... were happy, taught yoga , lived your dream, were safe, and I could be a part of your life that would make me complete. That is truly how I feel. I want you to feel free to be you. That is why I value education so much. It helps you to see "outside the box"; to find out what is in this huge wonderful world that I have no clue of; to teach me new and wonderful things....we are never too old to learn, to create, to change...never.

I am happy that you found role models that establish interesting concepts to be included in the person you are...just me would have never been enough. I knew from an early age that you were going to be and are gifted and that I could only go so far with what I knew. You know so much and are growing smarter every day...and, I hope to learn as much as I can from you. I do believe we will always learn from one another. Maybe in different ways. I have been many places in my lifetime...and learned a lot from just living...that you can't get from a book. And, you have been places I have not been....so, we both learn. Everyday."

Decisions

I caught up with my friend Tiffany last night and we talked about many of the issues that concern (see also - bother) us on a regular basis.

As women, we are stuck in very difficult situations. We are forced, rather encouraged, to consider so many different and conflicting influences before making decisions that concern our lives. The key word there is our lives. The decisions that I choose are mine and mine only. At least at this juncture…

Whatever we, as women, choose to do is met by scrutiny, admonishment and scorn by one side or another. If I choose to get married, I am subscribing to archaic rules and values. Wasn’t I aware that women could make it solo? Perhaps I was, but didn’t want to go it alone…perhaps I wanted someone to share it with a long the way. And if I don’t want to get married, well, then naturally I am a career-ambitious bitch who doesn’t value family or family values.

Then there is the issue of children. Do I want them? Does he? If I decide I don’t want them and he does, is that a deal breaker? I tested the waters the other night while having dinner with my mom and dad.

“I don’t think I want to have kids,” I said to my mom.

“Sure you do, sweetheart! You’ve always wanted kids!”

“Yeah, I did. But I was younger then. Maybe I’m just not cut out for them. What if I’m a bad mom? And isn’t the world already populated enough?”

“Sarah, you’ll want kids when the time comes. You’re just in a phase right now.”

Yeah…that’s it, I’m in a phase. I think what she meant was, “Sarah, you’ll want to have kids…because I want you to have kids…and I’m your mother and mother knows best…”

Perhaps.

I don’t know. It sometimes just seems that no matter what side I choose, someone winds up disappointed. And I wonder, why can’t people just back out or pitch in and just make the decisions for me.

It would be a lot easier.

Sometimes I long for a simpler time. When there was only one car, a Ford, and it only came in one color, black. A time when women got married and had children early and they were “happy”…at least on the surface.

But I think they were happy. I think, maybe they didn’t know any different…maybe they didn’t know they were unhappy. Being married and having kids was what they were supposed to do and that was supposed to make them happy. They didn’t have a choice. The grass can’t be greener on the other side if another side doesn’t exist, right?

These days women actually have to figure out what makes them happy amid swirls of dissension. Thanks, women’s lib! Thanks a lot.

And this makes me think about my job and what I do, toiling day in and day out over what really are absolute frivolities.

I work to have money because I am scared to be poor. I work five days a week so that I have money to do something on the two days that I have off. I am working to contribute to the “system” because that is what I am supposed to do…this is what is supposedly good and respectful.

So then I think, what I really want to do is finish my degree, move to Seattle, work in a coffee shop and be a yoga instructor.

But I’m told I am too educated for that now. Silly me, here I was thinking that getting a Master’s degree would open up more doors.

I don’t want to be “wealthy”, I just want to have enough money to do the things that I want to do…to afford the things I want to afford. That’s it. I want to be comfortable and happy. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for, really.

I look up to my philosophy professor from Belmont. She never told us much about her personal life, so what I know about her, I have pieced together to make my ideal Dr. O.

She is in her 40’s or 50’s, never married but had, in her life, encountered and possessed many loves. She has no children and this sometimes creates a void, but she knows that if she truly wanted a child, she could have one.

She has a fantastic body, one that has not by spoiled by age and unhappiness. Life hasn’t gotten the best of her, her spirit or her body.

Which is more than I can say for people half her age.

She has fabulous salt and pepper hair and doesn’t attempt to hide it with colorings and dyes. She expects people to understand and accept her for who she is…not for the person she used to be or wish she would become.

Dr. O taught me that the important questions in life, the questions worth asking, are the ones you can’t answer. The questions that dig deep into your soul and, upon investigating, allow you to discover who you truly are.

For some reason, to me, she embodied both the conservative and the modern view of women. Somehow she was able to reconcile them both…in theory and in practice.

I think what made that possible is that she had found who she was, who she wasn’t and, in turn, was infinitely happy.

Three Thanks

Here we go! Due to an overwhelming number of requests (including begging and pleading), I am posting my Three Thanks. Okay there was only one request (thanks!) and there was neither begging nor pleading associated with it....

I'm sure everyone else was too sad to make it over to their computers to email me...

Yeah, that's it.

So, wipe your tears away, I will delay no longer.

1. EpiPen - Last night was a long one. I was out with a friend when I got a call from my mom saying that she and my dad were in the emergency room. He'd had an allergic reaction to something he had eaten and they had rushed over to the ER, EpiPen in hand. On the way, his face started to swell and it became harder for him to breathe and he was forced to jab the EpiPen into the muscle tissue in his leg (instructions, in case you are curious, are to the right).

My parents arrived at the ER where he quickly collapsed into a wheelchair and was taken back to Exam Room 7. This is when I was called.

My mom told me he would be fine once the doctors gave him steroids and Benadryl, that I shouldn't worry. He's done this a lot and every time is scary but he pulls through like a champ every time. This time his reaction got a second wind and he started to swell again. My mom called back and I left for the ER. When I got there, he was snoring away in Exam Room 7, swollen and red like a cherry.

They decided to keep him overnight and I stayed there with him until he got comfy in his cool and dark hospital room. They released him this morning and he's doing fine but I am definitely thankful for that EpiPen.

2. Work - Sometimes I complain. Sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I cry and scream. But all in all, my work's not so bad. In fact, it's pretty good.

I have people that are easy to work with and we get along great. I have accrued an inordinate amount of vacation days (28.2 to be exact) and I am given 30, count that, 30 sick days a year. I have been promoted, praised and paid to do what I love doing. And they are paying for a good portion of my graduate school.

When I decided to take this job two or so years ago over another opportunity, some of my friends scoffed. "Won't it be boring?" "Aren't you better than that entry-level position?" "Yes and yes", I responded. And many days, I was bored and I was overqualified. And many days I still am. But I like my company and I like my new position. I like my co-workers and I "like" my pay (is anyone really satisfied with what they are paid...I submit that they are not).

3. Summer Time (!) - I'm out of school for the summer and that's freakin' amazing! I can read for pleasure and not worry about the other things that I should be reading/studying/writing. It's fantastic...'Nuff said!!!

I just...well, there are no words...

A Wichita Falls woman sold her 15 year old daughter for a meager $3,000.

$3,000.

That's all this little girl's life was worth to her own mother.

Apparently, the 35 year old man (who was already in trouble for possession of child pornography and indecency with a child) took the girl to Mexico. The mother told police that her daughter had run away to look for her father...and even forged a note saying as such.

The poor little girl is back in TX and will be placed in foster care.

I just...well, what are people thinking?! Am I the only sane one left here?

100 Things About Me

1. I have a cat named Mr. Darcy – it’s from the book, Pride and Prejudice, which is amazing. Read it, love it, and if you’re going to watch the movie…I am under the distinct impression that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet are portrayed more accurately in the A&E version.

2. My favorite time is 12:34.

3. My favorite color can change daily. More often than not, it is blue.

4. I paint but I do not hold myself out to be a painter.

5. My family had a pool when I was growing up. It was pretty much the most amazing thing ever. But I always had to play by myself since I’m an only child.

6. I’m creative. Sometimes. They say that only children are more creative…because we have to be. Hopefully, this reins true for me since I work in Marketing.

7. I went in the ocean for the first time three years ago. I mean, I’ve put my feet in before…but I got neck deep. I almost peed myself. Luckily, I would have been in the ocean.

8. Going with that, I am deathly afraid of things I can’t see. The thing in the dark, creatures in the sea/creek/lake, the future….

9. It frustrates me that a lot of my food goes to waste because companies package things for families of 20. I’m a little person, I don’t eat much and I live alone. These things that all work against me when I try to not waste precious food.

10. Atrocious grammar errors irritate me.

11. Overly sensitive people do, too.

12. I had a pre-cancerous mole removed off my back and it left a pretty cool scar. You can read the poem here.

13. I was born almost a month late. The scheduled date was 4/1 and I wasn’t born until 4/30. Which also means that my birthday is coming up and that you haven’t missed your opportunity to send me your well wishes.

14. For my 14^th birthday, I got a curling iron and was told that we would be moving from Montgomery, AL to Nashville, TN.

15. My favorite number is anything that has a five in it. So, I really like the number 55,555,555 – it’s pretty much the best number ever.

16. I love to read but since I started grad school I haven’t had much of a chance to read anything for pleasure.

17. I’m getting my Master’s in Public Policy with an emphasis in Education Policy.

18. I want to move from Nashville when I graduate. I’m thinking Seattle at the moment. Thoughts? I’ve never been there…it’s kinda an off-the-cuff decision.

19. I love hiking but have never been camping because wild animals scare me. Unless of course, you count the times I slept in a tent in my backyard.

20. I graduated college on Friday the 13^th.

21. I got on birth control once and it made me so depressed that I stopped eating and lost like 20 pounds. It was awesome because I bought all of these new clothes. On the other hand, I was too depressed to go anywhere…so I never wore them out anywhere.

22. I have really crappy eyesight and am pretty much blind without my corrective lenses.

23. I’m short. 5 foot 2 to be exact.

24. My grandma used to read me The Giving Tree every time I saw her. I can’t even see the book cover now without crying.

25. I like red wine. Fairly dry and not too sweet. Recommendations?

26. Jack Vettriano is an amazingly talented artist. Get to know his work. You’ll love it!

27. Dale Chihuly is a freakin’ amazing glass blower and he’s from Seattle. He’s inspired by the water and so he creates his future designs while meditating naked in the bathtub.

28. I really want to learn photography…

29. Egypt is somewhere I’ve always wanted to go. I’d love to see the Great Pyramid and the Sphinx.

30. I get really claustrophobic in crowds…or when people stand really close. I just have to be able to see a clear and easily accessible exit…otherwise I get clammy, sweaty and nauseous.

31. I’m a great listener.

32. My favorite flowers are lilies. I like tulips too…but lilies are my fav.

33. Peanut butter is by far the world’s most perfect food.

34. I love playing board games. Cranium trumps all.

35. I sang at Carnegie Hall. Yeah, that’s right.

36. I also really want to go to Ireland and Sweden. That’s where my grandparents’ parents were from.

37. I was supposed to be a boy. My dad got to name me if I was a boy and my mom got to name me if I was a girl. Thank God, I was a girl because my dad had chosen Ezekiel. He thought it would be cool to call me Zeke. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

38. I don’t really like to wear patterned things…unless it’s polka dots. I love polka dots.

39. I had braces for four and a half years. I was a heinous mess. I have burned all the evidence of that dark time in my history.

40. I sleep with a security blanket that I’ve had since I was three.

41. I like the smell of freshly tilled fields, soap and the air in the morning.

42. I hate bike riding. Unless it’s on the beach in Hilton Head. That was pretty sweet.

43. I’ve driven to almost all the contiguous states.

44. I’m somewhat of a health nut.

45. I count on my fingers.

46. I laugh at inappropriate things.

47. We will not get along if you can’t laugh at the stupid things you do…or you take yourself too seriously.

48. I like my eggs cooked over medium.

49. My favorite bar beverage is a vodka tonic.

50. I like salsa on pretty much everything.

51. People who say “could care less” bother me. It’s “couldn’t care less.” It’s ridiculous to say that you could care less about something.

52. I hate giving speeches. HATE.

53. I think facial scruff is hot.

54. When I’m nervous or stressed, I bite all my nails off…except my thumb nails…they’re really strong. Dang them and their resiliency!

55. I was only allowed to watch reruns when I was growing up. Like the Patty Duke Show, the Mary Tyler Moore Show, the Dike van Dyke Show, Dragnet, and I Love Lucy. Awesomeness.

56. I don’t sit on public toilet seats.

57. I fit the description of my astrological sign fairly well.

58. It takes me a long time to love someone, but when I do, I will love them forever.

59. I save my old toothbrushes and use them for use as cleaning agents.

60. I am not a neat freak nor am I organized…but I know where everything is.

61. I subscribe to three magazines – Glamour, In Style and Marie Claire.

62. It always makes me feel better to drive with all the windows down and blast music in my car.

63. I’m a music snob. And I generally fall out of love with a band when they become famous.

64. I have a love/hate relationship with being from Alabama.

65. My mom was 35 when I was born.

66. I’ve had a slew of nicknames throughout the years – Gidget, Sash, Cakes, Boog, Pet…and most recently, Pickles.

67. I love to cook. It’s kinda like art.

68. I love semi-formal and formal attire.

69. I like classical music.

70. I’ve always wanted to dance…but never had the guts to do it anywhere but in my condo…alone.

71. I like the way that Scotch Tape smells.

72. I have a pen fetish. I get that from my dad.

73. When I was little, I collected erasers and stickers.

74. My dad and I look almost identical. He’s just a man with grey hair.

75. My dad used to enter me in fishing competitions. I used to win.

76. I don’t like the texture of pears or guacamole.

77. I got the chicken pox when I was in 8^th grade…well past the time when you are supposed to get them. They were everywhere. And by everywhere…I mean…everywhere.

78. I don’t like icing.

79. I always eat breakfast

80. I’m addicted to coffee and I drink it black.

81. The bag of purple Skittles is my favorite.

82. I love dresses and skirts.

83. Spring and Fall are my favorite months.

84. I am a Christian but there are a lot of reasons why calling myself this bothers me.

85. I love Google Reader!

86. I love BBQ ribs…but I don’t eat them in public.

87. I have worked a variety of jobs. I worked at Border’s as a barista, Bread and Company, American Eagle Outfitters, the Nature Company, a nanny, Hecht’s, Macaroni Grill, Merchant’s, and AristoMedia as a music industry publicity/advertising intern.

88. I am a few credits shy of having an Art History minor.

89. I play volleyball at Hooter’s.

90. I will trust you implicitly until you give me a reason not to.

91. I’m a horrible liar. My face always looks weird when I lie.

92. I love pickles and olives.

93. Ted’s Montana Grill has an amazing buffalo burger.

94. I took ballet, tap, jazz, baton, flute and vocal lessons, and soccer growing up.

95. I love broccoli…nature’s broom.

96. I got 2^nd degree burns down my arm from my oven while cooking popcorn shrimp and tater tots last year.

97. It’s hard for me to say “no” to my friends.

98. If I don’t eat, I get cranky.

99. I like attention...but not all the time.

100. Thank, God. Umm…think of something…um….I love black and white photos, Audrey Hepburn, old-fashioned values (some), hand sanitizer, and the color red. See…my favorite color changed while I was doing this.

Can't blame it on being an only child anymore...

Singletons at Risk?

Apparently, no developmental, personality and/or behavioral problems have been linked to only children. However, and I quote:

"There was a time when being an only child was so unusual and stigmatized that all kinds of problems were ascribed to it."

Was a time, people. WAS.

The answer also says that I have an intellectual advantage over other kids, albeit slight.

Ha!

You may remember this.

Who knew there was a support website out there for people like me??

Three Thanks

I didn’t post my Thanks last week because I was so sick. Perhaps a few of mine this week should be:

1. Breathing
2. Holding steady a temperature within the 98 degree mark
3. Swallowing without daggers piercing themselves into my throat

Nevertheless, I feel that I should have some Thanks that have nothing to do with my disease. I am more than my disease!

Without further ado…my Three Thanks!

1. Easter with my family (and Abi, who’s like family) – Though they all live here in Nashville and I can see them whenever I want, it’s nice to know that I have somewhere to be on the holidays. It’s nice to have people and places to call “home”. It’s nice that for 25 years my mom has made me an Easter basket. That’s right, be jealous…I still get visited by “The Bunny” every year. It’s tradition!

2. Cooking for family and friends – I love cooking! Perhaps I should have been a chef…nah, I guess you have to have more than just the love of cooking to be a chef. You actually have to be a really good cook. Well, attesting to my skills…I haven’t killed anyone or made anyone sick…not yet.

3. Game night with my ladies –

Cranium (plus) Apples to Apples (equals) Pure Awesomeness!

We pigged out on pizza and all the junk food you haven’t eaten since your mom packed your lunch. E.L. Fudge cookies, Reese's Cookies, Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs (‘tis the season), Chex Mix – Sweet and Salty, chips with sour cream and onion dip, chocolate chess pie….

Ugh, there was more…but I can’t bare to relive it all. We were fat, happy and jovial. And even got a little but of Mean Girls in…

Oh, I'm eating at Virago tonight! They have 1/2 priced martinis and sushi on Mondays! Monday's at Virago come highly recommended by this cat.

Personality Type: The Jetta Driver

Posted by The Bastardly. Edited for brevity but can be found in it's entirety here.

"Aaah, The Jetta. I think the cars are synonymous with the words, “I want one of those” in the female and homosexual communities. Don’t get me wrong now, I love & respect both communities, but let’s not kid ourselves, the Jetta is not a car for the normal guy. That is, if the normal guy is not a chump.

The male Jetta driver: The Jetta is a classic car for your typical chump on the prowl for women (that is, women who are in high school or early years of college). Why? Very simple. Because you have something they want. It’s the same with other wonders of the world…money, large house, cute puppy, large penis, etc etc. You have something. They want a piece! The closest thing to owning a Jetta is being close to someone who has one. The chump gets what he wants. The woman gets her desires fulfilled. Very simple concept, indeed.

What characteristics define this chump? The Classic Jetta Chump is a (most often white) male in their late - early 20s. If he’s in college, 4 out of 5 times, he’s in a frat. He drinks Starbucks coffee. He Eats @ the Cheesecake Factory. He wears Abercrombie & Fitch. Lastly, he most probably lifts with a wife-beater on, so he can A) look @ himself in the mirror as he does curls & B) so he can attract his women. In other words, he has no mercy.

The girl Jetta Driver: Aaah, they are truly a wonder. No Asian man can ever get his skinny hands on their silky bodies because these girls have been sheltered by their fathers (who most probably have a military background & fought wars against the colored people–i.e. Vietnam, Gulf War, etc). There’s a clause to the last statement: The Asian man can get into Girl Jetta Drivers’ pants ONLY if they fork over a Jetta in exchange for pleasure, but that would classify as a total Chump move, so it just wouldn’t be cool.

The Jetta Girl is the classic Daddy’s Little Girl. If she owns a Jetta released within the last 3 years, she is definitely Daddy’s Girl, but if it’s a old, ghetto Rabbit, then she’s probably your wannabe surfer. 7 out of 10 times (accounting for the wannabe surfers), materialism defines them. It is literally at the center of their world. Don’t be surprised to see a chick driving a Jetta, who has a Hurley bumper sticker & carries a LV handbag. Also, 4 out of 5 times they are members of elite sororities, so the Chumps on the prowl find their prey extremely easily. Also, to further feed the Chump fire, these girls believe coffee was invented by Starbucks."

~*~

Seriously funny! The description of the male Jetta driver is accurate of the one guy I knew in college who drove said vehicle. He was a white male, in a frat and a womanizer. I believe he might have been too good for A & F, though...only Ralph Lauren/Polo and Izod would do.

As for the description of me? Well, it is somewhat accurate.

I am a daddy's girl but not in an annoying way. Ha - at least I don't think so. I am fairly cognizant about not being a spoiled brat. I just happen to be my dad's only daughter...and an only child.

Speaking of my dad...he does have a military background and fought in Vietnam.

I wouldn't say that materialism defines me...that's a tad harsh...I do, however, enjoy the finer things in life. And it's not LV, thank you very much...it's Chanel and Coach...well, and Dolce and Gabbana (because their initials are the letters of my sorority)....

(long pause)

This is sounding bad for me, isn't it??

Yeah.

Three Things

1. Waylaid Plans - Sometimes, we have the "best" plans laid out. Sometimes, they don't work out. And sometimes, that's okay.

2. Shooting Stars - I saw one this weekend and made a wish. Nope, don't even ask, I'm not telling you what I wished for.

3. Mother/Daughter Nights - I went and saw "Because I Said So" at the theatre with my friend Abi, her mom and my mom. We went to dinner beforehand and had a great time! Yea for mom bonding!

Three Thanks

Ahh! I'm posting on time this week! You didn't think I would, did you?! My track record hasn't been so good recently, I will agree.

Here are my Three Thanks...in no particular order:

1. The beginnings of Spring - On Sunday, I went to Centennial Park here in Nashville and enjoyed the fantastic weather. Sure, I had to keep my fleece on with my scarf wrapped tightly around my turtleneck sweater...but it was great...and only cold when the wind was blowing. Perhaps it was my apparel that was keeping me warm, or perhaps it was the company...of this, I shan't tell.

Here's a side story...decidedly of no interest to anyone but me...even still, I will write about it before moving on. There are no restrooms at this park. Well, there are...just not good ones. Ladies, you know the offense to which I am referring...Porta-potties. Those disastrous creations that are made to hold excrement in a hole in the ground until someone with a big truck comes to empty it out. Gross.

So, there I was at Centennial Park...really needing to use the restroom. This was my only option. Well, my only viable option. I make the trek to the area where they are located. In front of one of the toilets is a large, metal trashcan with an open top. There is something leaning down into it...it looks like a small cat, perhaps a small raccoon. When it hears me it pops up onto its hind legs. It peers at me with its big brown eyes. It wasn't a cat...nor was it a raccoon. It was an obese squirrel. Quite possibly the biggest, fattest squirrel in existence. When I walked closely by it, it didn't even budge. It was as if to say..."Heh, I could totally take her! I am not moving..."

I opened the door with one finger, sliding the latch to the left oh so carefully. When I walked in, my gag reflex kicked in, as the smell of fecal matter and heated urine immediately invade my nostrils. I glanced down into the toilet (why, I don't know)...and what did I see? Among the Dentyne Ice wrappers, toilet paper and other various sundries...I saw it. Perfectly placed on a piece of TP, it was sitting there. A perfect poo swirl.

After seeing that one squirrel...I was really afraid that one of his mutant friends might be hiding inside the bowl. Much to my luck...no one jumped out at me...

2. My new bedside table - My dad made it for me. I've had one for almost two years now and have been waiting for its mate. Well, it finally arrived from my parents' house Saturday afternoon. Yea!

3. Parties with my girls - I love seeing you ladies. Saturday night was a blast...I can't wait to see pictures!



By the way, people scare me...

More pictures!

Mr. Darcy in a track jacket!

The Debut!!

Here's to the joy of Christmas!

I came home Friday night, content to put on my lounge pants, crank up the holiday jazz mix I bought last year, burn the green variety of holiday candle (you know – smells like pine), and finish decorating for Christmas. Abi and I went to see Stranger Than Fiction and I thought it was creative and morosely funny. It turned out to be more dark comedy than I had originally expected.

So, I got home. Turned the Christmas tree lights on. Lit my candles. I made my way into my bedroom to put on my pink Victoria’s Secret lounge pants. These are great pants…but you can wear them for a short period of time and they start to bag in the butt and the knees. Even though I live alone, I still like to be presentable, you know…for Mr. Darcy. But these were the pants that were calling for me the loudest from their wooden prison, deep within my lingerie chest.

I went back into the kitchen/dining/living room to begin and end the decoration for Christmas 2006.

I saw him then.

A little grey and white fuzzy head sticking out of my Parisian’s handle bag from last night’s shopping extravaganza. Mr. Darcy leapt at me from his clever hiding place, expecting to scare me. Cats are funny like that. Have you noticed that? Their thinking is, “If I can’t see you, you must not be able to see me. Therefore, I will avert one eye while keeping the other in plain site.”

He dives back into the bag making as much commotion as entirely possible. We’re playing a game, he and I. The interesting thing is that he couldn’t care less whether I was playing along or not.

I wish life were this simple. Joy from a bag. I mean, I get joy from bags now…but it’s because they are filled with the wondrous gifts that I have purchased.

When I was little, I would play in my parents’ camcorder bag…that’s right, remember those? When the camcorders were so large, they had to be propped up on shoulders and stored in what looked like a carry-on luggage baggage. I would get in there, lay as flat and as still as possible and wait for people to start looking for me.

“Bill, where’s Sarah? Have you seen Sarah? Where could she be? This isn’t like her.”

I’d lay there for as long as I possibly could, dying to let everyone in on my secret.

Looking back on it, I am pretty sure my parents knew where I was the entire time. They would just play along. Like I do with Darcy.

But I want to be on the other side of the surprise, the tom foolery, again. I want to get enjoyment out of simple things. I think it is important, especially in this holiday season, to look at the world around us as though we have the eyes of a child and the innocence of youth.

When was the last time that you couldn’t sleep on Christmas Eve? I’d lie awake trying to remember all the things I had included in my letter to Santa at the North Pole. I remember straining so hard to hear Santa and his reindeer arrive at my house but eventually, exhaustion would take over and I would fall asleep.

My mom would cook constantly throughout the Christmas season. Gingerbread houses, peppermint bark, chocolate covered pretzels, red velvet cake, sugar cookies made in holiday shapes (but half a batch with no icing…because I don’t like icing). You name it, she made it. Christmas morning I was always instructed to remain upstairs while my parents “looked at what Santa brought me...to make sure it was right.” This seemed plausible. How nice of them! Then, they’d give me the queue and off I would go, dashing down the stairs to see what treasures were beyond the banister. I’m told a story, that one particular Christmas, I cried. I cried, proclaiming that Santa had given me too much. Obviously, there had been a mistake – he had given me someone else’s presents as well as my own! Apparently, it took my parents a while to calm me down that morning. Probably not the reaction they had expected.

I can’t wait to go through all of these things with my future children. To see the wonderment and joy they have as they experience everything for the first time. Don’t you wish that we could all keep that? Let’s all try to celebrate Christmas this year with these things in mind.

Here’s to the excitement of Christmas.

Not much really...

I really don't have anything to blog about...but I wanted to write something. Wanted to let people know I was still alive. Perhaps a stream of consciousness will occur and I will end up with an amazing piece of "blogerature." Perhaps? Perhaps not.

First, I bought new plants. They're great. Really, they are. I bought them because I read this article about how plants provide fresh oxygen into home environments. Score! Who wants recycled oxygen in their place...not me! In any case, Darcy likes to eat them. More or less, really, he just chews on the leaves. So, they are all elevated around my place - out of his reach. I can't have anything around here! No plants, no drapes, shouldn't have blinds...he might hang himself...Ugh! Darcy! What a pest! A cute, completely lovable pest.

Second, I was at Wendy's this week getting my boss and I lunch. I had the window down in the rental at the drive-through line and was jammin' out. Yeah. Completely jammin' out. I had this really sticky lip gloss on so when I felt something on my face, I thought it was my hair getting caught up in it. Well, it wasn't. Nope, not that lucky. It was a spider. That's right. A spider. I completely freaked out! All my flailing gets him off my face....but he landed on right breast. Yeah. Awesome. I flicked him off and he landed on my glorious rental car's arm rest. There was nothing in the car to kill him with so I reached for the first thing in my purse that I could find and I swung. I hit hard, man. Hard. He splattered. It was gross. My fake Louis Vuitton wallet will never be the same.

Season premiere of Grey's? Anybody? Anybody? Hello? It was fantastic! Fan-flippin'-tastic.

I found out that my friend Michael is coming into town this coming weekend...and that is also fantastic.

I painted my fingernails red. It makes them look shorter and paler...but sometimes a girl just feels like having fire engine red fingernails.

Abi and I are going out tonight. There could be pictures to follow...keep a look out this week for some!

It hailed on my Jetta today. I haven't been able to go outside yet and look at it to see if there was any damage. I don't think there would be...it was just nickle size hail...but still y'all...Can you believe it? If it's bad luck and it has to do with me and my car...it will happen.

Speaking of the storm, my power went off today as well. I basically live in a cave; if there isn't any artificial light, I am pretty much SOL. So, for an hour this afternoon I just sat here and watched Darcy freak out at the thunder. I tried to calm him down with the first few claps...but then I realized it was a loosing battle and the skin on my arms was loosing big time.

This guy keeps coming to my door...the same one...I can see him out my peep hole. He's been by here three times but never leaves anything. I don't know who he is. Freak. I feel like a complete hermit...looking out the peep hole and then not answering the door. Haha...and then writing about him in my blog. Haha...seriously, who really is the freak here?

I needed toilet paper so I went to Target. They didn't have any small packs...they ran out...Um a run on toilet paper? Who knew!? Anyway, I had to have toilet paper...it's not one of those things that you can say..."Eh, I'll pick it up tomorrow from the grocery store." No, when you need toilet paper, you generally need toilet paper. So, I bought the 24 pack. Yup, ladies and gents, I have 24 (my bad - 23) roles of TP in my place. Don't think I'll be needing to buy that anytime soon...

My dad and I met for breakfast on Friday morning at Panera. It's always great to be able to spend one on one time with him.

My place is a disasterious disgrace. The house police should come pick me up and haul me off. And yet, here I sit.

The Fray concert is coming up and I can't wait! Yay!

Okay, I seriously can't think of anything else. That kind of catches everyone up...Maybe?

Hiking in Nashville

Some pictures from hiking around Radnor Lake. If you haven't been there and you live around here...you must go! The Ganier Ridge trail is my favorite. It turns into the Lake trail so you get to see Radnor Lake as well.

Tennessee is beautiful this time of year.