a hot-mess moment.

ugly crying and other embarrassing things everyone does. 

3 years since my last post... perfect timing! i’m pretty sure the last time i blogged i didn’t have a job. i do have a job. yay! i am also a homeowner! (home renovation is a process i probably should have blogged about, but i was too busy inhaling paint fumes, taking short jumps off tall ladders, and other general diy-type things.) but the house is not falling down, and the job is good, so those don’t really provide much blogging material. however, this little nugget of a life event does…

so, we broke up. and i saw a dog today. (that’s an inside joke that only my bff and buddy the elf fans will get, sorry.) i’m not usually the type to advertise these kinds of traumatic moments. por ejemplo, from the ages of 10-20 i watched my dad die from multiple sclerosis and hid most of my heartache pretty well with a delightful mixture of sarcasm, humor, cleavage, and cheap booze. but, i have learned, at the wise old age of 30, that these are things everyone goes through. and there really is something to finding the humor in life… all of life. this experience has shown me that the anatomy of a breakup doesn’t really change much whether you’re 16 or 30, except for the fact that i have a dispensable income now! and that helps.

stage 1 - trouble's abrewin’: this is really the stage that varies most from person to person. during this stage, i generally like to keep quiet.. eh, silent, and hide from the world and trouble. kinda like an animal in the wild that’s being hunted… stand very still, blend in, it’ll go away. but, if i were an animal i feel like i’d be a flamingo, and those things don’t really camouflage well.. just sayin’. i know lots of people who take more of a peacock approach during this stage, tell all of their friends, talk about it lots, make a facebook status, take a selfie… and in some ways, i really admire those people. this is life; living it out loud isn't always bad.

stage 2- fight or flight: there are only two kinds of people in the world. unfortunately, i’m a fighter. i will text 1.2 million times, and call, and cry, and try to make everything better by whatever means possible. sometimes i fight dirty… with a lot of mean words. and sometimes i fight drunk… with mostly inaudible crying words. i talked to one of my good friends during this stage. she said, "when someone wants to break up with me, my first reaction is to get mad. i just say ‘f* it!’ and walk away.” i love her… i want to be her when i grow up. (it’s fair to mention that she is in a healthy, stable, long-lasting relationship, but had to say ‘f* it’ a few times to get there.) it's not that i think being a "fighter" is necessarily bad, it's made me very strong and successful in many aspects of my life. it's just that i do the bulk of my embarrassing displays of emotion during this stage. fortunately, this stage never lasts too long... due mostly to the fact that my dear, sweet mother says things like, "put on some makeup, i didn't raise you to act crazy." it's times like these that i am most thankful for her pearls of wisdom. :)

stage 3 - here i go again on my own: err’body is the same… just with different musical anthem preferences. i am a huge believer in God’s will and, after the initial shock and awe stages of breaking up, i have absolute faith that the good Lord has a good plan that neither of us nor our crazy can mess up. with that being said… i love Jesus, but i drink a little. when you’re 16 and break up, you take what you can get during this stage because your hostessing job at the local diner doesn't really afford you good booze or good vacations. boones farm at your best friend’s camp-house is about as 4-star as it’s gonna get. but, i’m 30, and i like expensive boxed-wine and exotic places. healing is an expensive process, and this is where the dispensable income is handy!

things i wish i knew yesterday:

1. mama said there’d be days like this, there’d be days like this...

2. sometimes you just gotta let the crazy flag fly, and not worry about what others will say.

3. it's ok to love, it's ok to hurt, it's ok to show people how you feel.

4. st. croix is only a plane ticket away.

a how-to.

this is always the time of year that i start to feel very... domestic. now, don't get me wrong, i live to be paula deen and i have had my own subscription to southern living magazine since i was 9, but the holidays seem to kick my inner 'susie homemaker' into beast mode. perhaps it's all the baking, christmas tree decorating, table setting and wine drinking.

which brings us to wrapping gifts. somewhere around the wise old age of 16, i made a list of skills every 'good woman' should possess. being able to make a beautiful bow was a skill on that list, baking a pie was another; there are 17 in all. you can judge me if you like... but, i like pretty things. and i like makin' 'em. besides, it would be very difficult for me to maintain my status as a founding member of the columbus jr. league (which technically doesn't exist yet) if i didn't know how to make a bow. so every december i pull out my bow making supplies.... and every december i curse my stupid 'good woman' ideals.

bow-making is hard! i can say that because in high school, i took floral design. that's all you do in that class.. make bows and hot glue stuff. and now that i really think about, that is just about the time my 'good woman' list was created... way.to.go.agriculture.education! today was day one of present wrapping, and as of today i've made two bows.. two-in-a-day! needless to say, if you don't get a gift with a bow on it... it's because i'm baking you a pie.

things i wish i knew yesterday:
1. people don't care if the bow on top is crappy; they care if the gift inside is crappy.
2. i've gotta focus on the skills at which i excel: making chicken fried steak, tying a tie, setting a table.
3. i did not get an 'a' in floral design.
4. sample bows will be required with jr. league applications.

rain check: rapture.

awkward, party of one.

this recent doomsday scare has really helped me to put things in perspective. i've realized that it's time to get back to what's important... blogging. i was also pretty certain that most of you, knowing my pure heart, were convinced that i had actually been taken up in the rapture.

i wish i had a legit excuse for my blogging absence such as, i don't know, calculating the end of time. but alas, it's that i'm lazy. i can't even begin to catch you up on all of the things i've been doing because of the embarrassing amounts of 'couch sitting,' 'tv watching' and 'lollygagging' that have filled my schedule. really i've just been working- teaching the future of america to read good, applying for jobs- see state-wide teacher layoffs, and maintaining the man chasing booze-hound lifestyle to which i've become accustomed.

this week has been my least favorite of the year. don't get me wrong, the world not ending was a neat surprise. but it's the last week of school and that means that once again, at the ripe-old-age of 27, i am unemployed. clearly, this is not ideal. i've spent a great deal of time questioning whether or not this career change was a good idea, debating if i should just pack it in and go back to the profession i left, and wallowing in the sad fact that i live with my parents. so, i allowed myself one day to be bitter, pitiful and otherwise unpleasant and then immediately self-administered a swift kick in the ass. and i'm back! back to applying for 1285 jobs each day, back to being positive and most importantly... back to blogging!

things i wish i knew yesterday:
1. when you finally figure out what it is you want to do for the rest of your life... there's just no lettin' it go.
2. there is literally no better motivation than whitesnake's 'here i go again,' a bottle of skinny-girl margaritas and a best friend.
3. living with your parents is decidedly less shameful than miscalculating the end of time... twice.

mom, the meatloaf.

.

all my rowdy friends are... having babies?

as per my usual holiday schedule i've spent every waking moment (and some sleeping) with family and friends. at this stage in my life that means there are exactly 2983.9 children, under the age of 7, running around all jacked up on 'santa's coming!!' to add to the excitement my best friend has just announced that she and her husband will welcome a baby boy in april!!!!!! ahh!! too excited to type!!! with all this baby-havin', kid-screamin', santa-visitin' good time i am often left with the feeling that i am truly missing something. i'm 27, and that's prime baby-making time. i love children, so much in fact i've dedicated my career to teaching them. and i want to be someone's mom. as the holidays rolled on my biological clock and i were feeling a little less holiday spirit and a lot more lonely. then God, in all of His infinite wisdom and humor, reality-checked me and my little clock!

act I, scene I: a group of us are at a shwanky restaurant celebrating my friend's bday. the wine is flowing, the oysters have been served (not that i noticed over the flowing wine), and a lot of inappropriate adult conversation has commenced. bliss. enter my bff's 17-month-old knocking over a glass of water and screeching with glee. 1st spill, i'm fine... by the 3rd spill, my biological clock and i were taking a synchronized dive into another bottle of wine. i love this baby with all of my heart, and i would babysit him 366 days a year, but at that moment all i could think was "i love this kid, but i love more that he's not my kid."

act I, scene II: my bff's sister has two of the most precious baby girls in all of the world; one of which is in the potty training stage of her sweet little life. so we're enjoying a fun holiday afternoon of baking with girlfriends when sweet baby trainee chooses to forgo the potty for her diaper. insert my horror at 1. the smell. and 2. the realization that we didn't have any diapers. we now have to go home but there's a hitch, sweet-baby-smelly-pants is hysterical about having to sit in her car seat with said smelly pants. picture this: me driving a minivan. enough said. but add that i'm jamming out to cee-lo's 'forget you' on the radio, sweet pie 1 is in her car seat, and mommy is holding smelly sweet pie in the very back of the minivan, as i drive us home. maybe it's that i was paralyzed with panic when i heard the words, 'we don't have any diapers.' maybe it's that my first thought was to take a water hose to this precious child. maybe it's that, without regard for the freezing temperatures or the child's feelings, i rolled down every window of the minivan upon her entering. either way my biological clock and i came to the resounding consensus that i am just not ready... yet.

things i wish i knew yesterday:
1. i really don't want a minivan. ever.
2. my kids will be darn lucky if i am even half as great as the wonderful moms by which i am surrounded.
3. i do have a very genuine and real motherly instinct... it's just not as strong as my very genuine and real love for consuming copious amounts of alcohol.
4. if potty training a kid is anything like house training a dog, it's not looking good for my offspring.

jive turkey.

because that's the way we've always done it.

over the years, my fondness for this gluttonous day of glory has grown exponentially... much like my pant size. and while the food is my first love, it's the traditions that keep me coming back for more (pun intended). we'll blame it on all of the amazing women in my family who have simply continued what is worth continuing. and while the itinerary for the actual day of thanks hasn't changed much, what was once a 1 day sprint to the fat farm has evolved into a 4-5 day marathon... and i'm not mad about it. beyond the traditional family (biologically speaking) thanksgiving, i have been blessed with a family of friends who graciously include me in their family traditions.

and in the in-between we make up a few traditions of our own...
1. midnight shopping. two days ago i was morally opposed to black-friday. i literally could not think of a worse way to end the tryptophan induced haze than to spend the wee-hours of the morning with crazed shoppers on the hunt for a deal. but about a bottle of wine into the night, that all changed. while drowning our sorrows, following a rather unfortunate texas/texas a&m outcome, my girlfriends and i decided that maybe midnight shopping at our local wal-mart was not such a bad idea. and in fact, it was the most brilliant idea we've had to date. with a little vino to take the edge off,  'finding the deals' was almost as much fun as enjoying the locals who take this sort of shopping seriously. 2 shop-vacs, 2 belgian waffle makers, 2 electric griddles and 38 dvds later... the three of us have a new thanksgiving tradition.
2. friday morning i awoke, a little black-friday skip in my step, and decided i needed to share these good deals with the masses. i made my way to my bff's parents' house for a little coffee and company. i should note that my friend is 1 of 9 children... there is always plenty of company (and coffee) at their house. we spent the morning making our way through recorded episodes of criminal minds, interrupted by a head-to-toe fashion consult as my friend chose an ensemble for her evening out -- side note: sisters are like super-honest-best-friends-on-crack. since i haven't known the joy of having a sister, my findings after spending several hilarious days with these 4 ladies are absolutely going to make their way into a blog post. -- after everyone moseyed on their way my bff's older sis adopted me for the day. together the two us drank champagne, ate strawberries, watched leap year, and made cinnamon-chocolate brownies with white chocolate ganache, which we also ate. it was a rather romantic afternoon (without any pressure) and a new thanksgiving tradition that i think is equally hilarious and awesome!

things i wish i knew yesterday:
1. legit black-friday shoppers do not think it's funny that you and your friends continue to take pictures and shout things like "omg, the deals are so hot i'm sweatin'!"
2. during a multi-day thanksgiving marathon, you'll need a break from the turkey... margaritas and fajitas are a fantastic option!
3. it is not impossible to type and eat pumpkin pie at the same time.
4. you can't win 'em all, texas. hook 'em!

all rise.

justice = served.

for those of you who have not had the pleasure of serving on a jury, please do not read this post! i don't want to 'ruin the surprise' for you when your day of service eventually comes.

i have been summoned for jury duty several times, we'll call it my good fortune. in fact, the frequency with which i am 'randomly selected' is nearly enough to form a weak, yet totally spooky, conspiracy theory. unlike my previous summons, this time i didn't have a 'legitimate exemption' and therefore i dutifully answered the call to service. and, because i'm super lucky, i was selected for the jury. fyi: if you would like to avoid actually being selected for a jury i would recommend thinking of the most crazytown response you can dream up and then reciting said response regardless of the question asked. it's a technique i've seen used with great success. i'm not exactly sure how attorneys decide which jurors to choose. i'd like to think, per my being selected, that they pick the brightest and most well-rounded candidates. i now know, per this experience, that is not necessarily the case.

as for the actual trial... it was less a time to kill, more construction engineering lecture. the case was about levee construction on duck-hunting leases; slightly less intense, even for the avid sportsman. turns out, they save the 'good-stuff' for jury deliberation.

there's always one. far be it for me, as a juror, to deny any other juror their right to be ridiculous... but o.m.g! this one must have slipped through the virtually fail-proof 'crazytown response' filtering method. i'll spare you the gory/hilarious details but somewhere between his telling another juror he would "agree with her if she bought him a hamburger" and his entertaining and spontaneously fabricated expertise in the area of levee construction, i started looking for the hidden camera and ashton.

things i wish i knew yesterday:
1. the gavel is apparently optional. disappointing.
2. that whole 'swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...' bit is a lot scarier in real life than on tv.
3. jury duty is a lot like waiting in a voting line, kind of an inconvenience but a right i am proud to exercise.
4. let the record reflect, following my service as the trier of fact in proceedings of the 2nd 25th judicial district court, inter alia, it is my intent hence forth to intermingle legalese in layman tête-à-tête without regard for actual meaning or appropriateness!!

don't tell mom, the babysitter's dead.

practically perfect.

the reality of playing nanny for a week is quite different from the magical-happyland i'd imagined. i pictured myself cooking wonderfully balanced meals while the children did their homework, laughing and playing together. we'd do crafts and sing and go on adventures to the library... as butterflies and sparkle fairy dust and little angels floated all around us. wait...what?!

in the interest of full disclosure, lovebug 1 and 2 are actually some of the most well-behaved, well-mannered, bright, and freakin' cute kids in all of the world. i guarantee you that my own children will be un-tamable beasts in comparison. with that being said... they're still kids, and i'm not their parent.

day 1: straight out of a babysitter's club fairy-tale. probably because having me around was still new and shiny and fabulous.
and then it was monday...
school, homework and all those other ordinary-everyday-things... will wear the shine off of a new babysitter real quick! the first of my happyland dreams was shattered at breakfast. you see, when people say "kids are picky eaters" that doesn't just mean they eat a lot of junk food and candy. sometimes that means they just don't like what seems obvious to every other reasonably functioning human being on the planet! for example, lovebug 2 does not like butter on his waffles. does not like it so much in fact that he refuses to eat them. duly noted, sir. one pefectly buttered, syrupy waffle in the trashcan... one perfectly un-buttered, still syrupy waffle coming right up. there were a few other entertaining meltdowns, and then i was introduced to the most well-guarded of parenting secrets.

if bribing children is wrong, i have no interest in being right, ever. trust me, there are no words more powerful than 'if you (fill in the blank) you can play legos/play in your room/watch cartoons/wear your silly-bandz/have a popsicle.' this is the kind of power that could, literally, be dangerous in the wrong hands. i learned this little trick from a real-life mom. 1 and 2's aunt happens to be my bff. i called her a few times (ok everyday) this week for general parenting rules and restrictions. there is truly no better line of defense than a mom.

but somewhere between "that's not how my mom does it!" and "you're about to lose your tv privileges!" there are sweet, sweet moments:
-piled four-deep in bed, between the love bugs and a sweet pooch taking turns saying our prayers.
-when bug 2 (who weighs about 40lbs soaking wet) opens my car door because, and i quote, 'that's what boys do for ladies.'
-when buggy 1 stands as close as possible and holds onto the edge of my cardigan, to get just a little closer.
it's all better than i could have imagined... plus sparkly dust seems like it would be hell to clean up!

things i wish i knew yesterday:
1. it takes a village. and in that village you should have at least one person who will come and 'dispose' of the opossum caught in a trap in the garage.
2. i am confident that i could convince any kid, anywhere, anytime to do anything, with just one m&m cookie and a box of silly-bandz.
3. my definition of 'balanced meal' has been expanded to include: corn dogs, mac & cheese and instant pudding.
4. i still don't, and probably won't ever, enjoy playing legos.