I have a confession to make. I am loving this vampire trend. I have read all of the Twilight and all of the True Blood books. Subsequently I have watched all the movies and shows. Many times. Over and over again. As in, I can recite them. This is nothing new: back in the day, I read the Anne Rice books, marveled at how Dracula came to be, watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and even auditioned for the Interview with a Vampire movie when I was 9.
I share this love with a small group of girlfriends, and inevitably when we get together the focus of the conversation leads to some kind of vampire talk. Whether it be discussing what hot vampire actor is now making out with another hot celebrity or just marveling at that new cover on Rolling Stone. Seriously, it’s a goosebumper. We are all highly-educated, badass, professional women … yet we get all giggly at the thought of vampires and their steamy hot fake lives (or non-lives, since they are dead… or… yeah).
This week we decided to pay $8.50 to go see that Vampire Sucks movie, simply because it involves our favorite thing: you guessed it… vampires. It was as predictable as any of those Wayans Brothers-type movies would be. But I found myself laughing out loud uncontrollably, and then looking around embarrassed until I remembered that, aside from the 5 of us, there were only 4 other people in there. We made a drinking game out of it (which is a tradition we hold every time a new Twilight Saga movie comes out), which included instructions such as “drink when Jasper looks constipated” (applicable to both the real movie and the parody). Somebody please get him a laxative.
It wasn’t an Oscar contender by any means, but it made me laugh. And it gave me an excuse to get together with my fellow vampire lovers and spend some quality time.
Now to get ready for Harry Potter coming out soon! It’s okay if you want to make fun of me, I’m not ashamed.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Fort Worth vs. Dallas
I may take some flak for this, but here goes nothing. I am a Fort Worth girl. I wasn’t raised in Funkytown, but I love it here. Sure, I would leave in a second for something like true love or a $100,000 pay raise. The point is, it would take something major to get me out of this Cowtown that I call home.
Top 10 Reasons I Like Fort Worth More Than Dallas:
Reason No. 1
The home prices are not so exorbitant that people my age can afford great homes with pools. We don’t have to break into apartment complexes or hang out at hotel pools for some rays and chlorine. We can if we want to, but it is just one of our many options.
Reason No. 2
Less traffic. I drive everywhere I need to go in under 10 minutes. That includes time on the freeway if need be. Try to beat that, Dallas North Tollway.
Reason No. 3
Our guys look good in boots and a cowboy hat. And no one thinks they are heading to a costume party.
Reason No. 4
Fort Worthians can hang out in our downtown at any time of day or night and have a blast. People travel great distances to spend time in our amazing Sundance Square. Dallas boasts of a has-been West End, which is home to tons of people wearing convention badges. Snoozefest…
Reason No. 5
JFK had much better luck in Fort Worth than in Dallas. We didn’t shoot J.R. either. Which leads me to…
Reason No. 6
We can’t claim fame to the “Dallas” mansion, South Fork Ranch. But neither can you, Dallas. Congratulations, Parker Texas. Guess “Parker” didn’t have the same ring to it.
Reason No. 7
Our zoo kicks your zoo’s butt. Fact.
Reason No. 8
I didn’t see SMU at the College World Series when I was there in June. TCU, however, was there in full force. Side Note: Good luck playing us in football this year, guys! You’re gonna need it.
Reason No. 9
Nobody worth knowing in Fort Worth wears Ed Hardy clothing. Or Affliction. Period. To expand on this, our men are good with their hands, and have never had a manicure. And they don’t have waxed chests.
Reason No. 10
Dallas is known for its “$30,000 Millionaires”. You know the type: that guy sitting at an ultra lounge with bottle service who is trying his hardest to appear that he clears between six and seven figures a year, but is actually swimming in debt due to his Ed Hardy and partying habits. (See: Reason No. 9). Sure, Fort Worth has a few of these guys. But I’m going to go on the record and say the ratio is 25:1. Check that fact. It’s true.
Basically, here’s the deal. In Fort Worth, we don’t have an identity crisis. We know where we are, which is not L.A. or New York. We are in Texas. Dallas has forgotten that it is located deep in the heart of Texas, and to quote my gal Krystal: “Unlike most cities across the country, Fort Worth has not forgotten where it comes from. Dallas has become mainstream and business focused, leaving much of the attraction of the city to become suit and tie and pencil skirt focused.”
I’ll take my prairie skirt and cowboy boots any day, thankyouverymuch.
Contributor: Keeley
Top 10 Reasons I Like Fort Worth More Than Dallas:
Reason No. 1
The home prices are not so exorbitant that people my age can afford great homes with pools. We don’t have to break into apartment complexes or hang out at hotel pools for some rays and chlorine. We can if we want to, but it is just one of our many options.
Reason No. 2
Less traffic. I drive everywhere I need to go in under 10 minutes. That includes time on the freeway if need be. Try to beat that, Dallas North Tollway.
Reason No. 3
Our guys look good in boots and a cowboy hat. And no one thinks they are heading to a costume party.
Reason No. 4
Fort Worthians can hang out in our downtown at any time of day or night and have a blast. People travel great distances to spend time in our amazing Sundance Square. Dallas boasts of a has-been West End, which is home to tons of people wearing convention badges. Snoozefest…
Reason No. 5
JFK had much better luck in Fort Worth than in Dallas. We didn’t shoot J.R. either. Which leads me to…
Reason No. 6
We can’t claim fame to the “Dallas” mansion, South Fork Ranch. But neither can you, Dallas. Congratulations, Parker Texas. Guess “Parker” didn’t have the same ring to it.
Reason No. 7
Our zoo kicks your zoo’s butt. Fact.
Reason No. 8
I didn’t see SMU at the College World Series when I was there in June. TCU, however, was there in full force. Side Note: Good luck playing us in football this year, guys! You’re gonna need it.
Reason No. 9
Nobody worth knowing in Fort Worth wears Ed Hardy clothing. Or Affliction. Period. To expand on this, our men are good with their hands, and have never had a manicure. And they don’t have waxed chests.
Reason No. 10
Dallas is known for its “$30,000 Millionaires”. You know the type: that guy sitting at an ultra lounge with bottle service who is trying his hardest to appear that he clears between six and seven figures a year, but is actually swimming in debt due to his Ed Hardy and partying habits. (See: Reason No. 9). Sure, Fort Worth has a few of these guys. But I’m going to go on the record and say the ratio is 25:1. Check that fact. It’s true.
Basically, here’s the deal. In Fort Worth, we don’t have an identity crisis. We know where we are, which is not L.A. or New York. We are in Texas. Dallas has forgotten that it is located deep in the heart of Texas, and to quote my gal Krystal: “Unlike most cities across the country, Fort Worth has not forgotten where it comes from. Dallas has become mainstream and business focused, leaving much of the attraction of the city to become suit and tie and pencil skirt focused.”
I’ll take my prairie skirt and cowboy boots any day, thankyouverymuch.
Contributor: Keeley
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Flying the Coop
I have been recently thinking about when I flew out of the nest. You know, that necessary time when you must leave the nest, where you have always been warm and fed, for a life of independence.
I went to college at 17, and got my own place with a girlfriend during the first semester, but I was just mere blocks from my folks. So although I was “on my own”, I really wasn’t. When I graduated college at 21, I was so excited to get out of town, get my own apartment and turn into an adult. I was under the impression that this made you an adult overnight. And I was ready.
But I never counted on the bills piling up because maybe I didn’t budget so well. Or the nights where my house is creaking and I wished I could run to my mom down the hall. It has been years since my own “independence day”, and while I have all those kinks worked out and have gotten into a good groove of living on my own, I can’t help but wonder what my life would be like if I had stuck by my childhood aspiration, which was to live with my mom forever and we would take care of each other. I remember telling her that, and she said “Sounds like a good plan, sweetie.” Awww.
But obviously we need to grow up. Remember when we were kids and we had “growing pains” when we hit major growth spurts? I was the really skinny kid who would get a little chubby in the cheeks and then shoot up like a weed. But I remember those growing pains kind of hurt sometimes. It hurts to grow. Anyone who says it doesn't is lying. I've heard that it's possible to grow up - I've just never met anyone who's actually completely done it. Without parents to defy, we break the rules we make for ourselves. We throw tantrums when things don't go our way, we look for comfort where we can find it, and we hope against all logic, against all experience. We’re just big kids, really.
When I first lived alone, my single girlfriends were my salvation. We commiserated together, healed each others’ broken hearts, tried to make each other laugh. Think about it. If you are single, after graduation there isn't one occasion where people celebrate you. Hallmark doesn't make a "Congratulations, You Didn't Marry the Wrong Guy" card. And where's the flatware for spending your Friday nights alone? There isn’t a registry category for this, is there?
But you can’t get down. I have always looked for the positive angle. Although I do sometimes wonder if maybe, after a certain age, we have to start applying pessimism daily, like moisturizer. Otherwise, how do we bounce back when reality batters your belief system and love does not, as promised, conquer all? I guess all we can do is hope for the best, prepare for the worst and who knows… we just might be pleasantly surprised. Or not. That’s just the way it goes.
Although I still have those girlfriends and I love them with all my heart, I eventually did not need to cling to them for salvation any longer. This is probably healthier for our friendships anyway. I found the real salvation, and instead of leaning so heavily on my girls, I have been able to give my yoke to God when the going gets rough. Now when I hear that creak in my house in the middle of the night, I no longer wish my mom was down the hall so I don’t have to be alone. I know now that I am not ever alone. That’s a relief.
At the end of the day, I look around and appreciate my grown-upness. But in a city like Fort Worth, with its pace and its pressures, sometimes it's important to have a 13-year-old moment -- to remember a simpler time when the best thing in life was just hanging out, listening to music and having fun with your friends -- in your very own home. That you own.
I went to college at 17, and got my own place with a girlfriend during the first semester, but I was just mere blocks from my folks. So although I was “on my own”, I really wasn’t. When I graduated college at 21, I was so excited to get out of town, get my own apartment and turn into an adult. I was under the impression that this made you an adult overnight. And I was ready.
But I never counted on the bills piling up because maybe I didn’t budget so well. Or the nights where my house is creaking and I wished I could run to my mom down the hall. It has been years since my own “independence day”, and while I have all those kinks worked out and have gotten into a good groove of living on my own, I can’t help but wonder what my life would be like if I had stuck by my childhood aspiration, which was to live with my mom forever and we would take care of each other. I remember telling her that, and she said “Sounds like a good plan, sweetie.” Awww.
But obviously we need to grow up. Remember when we were kids and we had “growing pains” when we hit major growth spurts? I was the really skinny kid who would get a little chubby in the cheeks and then shoot up like a weed. But I remember those growing pains kind of hurt sometimes. It hurts to grow. Anyone who says it doesn't is lying. I've heard that it's possible to grow up - I've just never met anyone who's actually completely done it. Without parents to defy, we break the rules we make for ourselves. We throw tantrums when things don't go our way, we look for comfort where we can find it, and we hope against all logic, against all experience. We’re just big kids, really.
When I first lived alone, my single girlfriends were my salvation. We commiserated together, healed each others’ broken hearts, tried to make each other laugh. Think about it. If you are single, after graduation there isn't one occasion where people celebrate you. Hallmark doesn't make a "Congratulations, You Didn't Marry the Wrong Guy" card. And where's the flatware for spending your Friday nights alone? There isn’t a registry category for this, is there?
But you can’t get down. I have always looked for the positive angle. Although I do sometimes wonder if maybe, after a certain age, we have to start applying pessimism daily, like moisturizer. Otherwise, how do we bounce back when reality batters your belief system and love does not, as promised, conquer all? I guess all we can do is hope for the best, prepare for the worst and who knows… we just might be pleasantly surprised. Or not. That’s just the way it goes.
Although I still have those girlfriends and I love them with all my heart, I eventually did not need to cling to them for salvation any longer. This is probably healthier for our friendships anyway. I found the real salvation, and instead of leaning so heavily on my girls, I have been able to give my yoke to God when the going gets rough. Now when I hear that creak in my house in the middle of the night, I no longer wish my mom was down the hall so I don’t have to be alone. I know now that I am not ever alone. That’s a relief.
At the end of the day, I look around and appreciate my grown-upness. But in a city like Fort Worth, with its pace and its pressures, sometimes it's important to have a 13-year-old moment -- to remember a simpler time when the best thing in life was just hanging out, listening to music and having fun with your friends -- in your very own home. That you own.
Monday, July 19, 2010
“If you're tired, you take a nap-a. You don’t move to Napa.” –Carrie Bradshaw
Every once in a while, a girl has to indulge herself.
So my girlfriends and I embarked on a “journey” (yeah I said it, Bliss) to Texas Wine Country, Fredericksburg, for a weekend of wineries, laughter and friendship. You know, friendships have to be invested in. You can’t expect to wake up one day when you are old and find a huge lump of money in your savings account for retirement. It’s the same thing with friendships. So we had an “investment weekend.”
You know I don’t use names on here, so here you go: The girls refer to me as Sammy, then you have Awesome Blossom, Rashelle, Hymie, and rounding out the crew is Rollin with the Homies.
We left after work on Friday and headed south. Rollin with the Homies owns a large momma-mobile, so we all piled in (with my dog Bama as well). We decided to take the scenic route vs. I-35 and I am so glad we did. We saw some amazing sunset views and got to stop in Lampasas.
Lemme tell you. Lampasas is an interesting place. And what is up with their Dairy Queen? Listen up, Lampasas Dairy Queen: When you are dealing with 5 girls and a dog with extreme 8pm ice cream cravings, throw us a bone here and make your parking lot easier to navigate. Awesome Blossom had to do some serious stunt driving to get us in and out of that place. When you leave the drive-thru, you are literally driving into a drop off that makes you feel like you are falling off the face of the Earth. We barely made it out of there alive. And we blame Joe Jackson for this (father of Michael). (Sorry, you’ll see a lot of Joe Jackson in this blog… inside joke. You had to be there.)
Ice cream cravings satiated, we made it into Fredericksburg by 11pm. The directions indicated that the cabin was the “last house on the left”, to which Rashelle exclaimed, “Great. We are going to die.” That’s the spirit, Rashelle! Turns out the cabin was not scary or horror-movie-ish in the least. Bullet dodged. We stayed at the adorable and comfortable Potbelly Stove Cottage (shameless plug: http://www.fbglodging.com/lodging/potbel.htm - seriously, go there.) My friend’s folks own the place and I’m serious... They did an amazing job with it. We piled in this cozy cottage, with 2 girls in the bed, 2 girls on the floor and me on the love seat because of my amazing cat-like curling up skills.
The next morning, we woke up and started pumping coffee into our veins. We looked outside noticed that deer were meandering all around our cabin! Too cool. So Hymie announced that she was going to go outside and be a deer whisperer. She claims that a deer (that she named Moesha) came within 3 feet of her, but we saw the deer running for “deer life” (get it?) after she went out there. I’m not sure which story to believe at this point.
Right before leaving for the day, Rashelle confided in us that the two best things in life that have ever happened to her are low rise jeans and hair straighteners. I feel a lot closer to Rashelle now, since she opened up to us about this.
So we decided to kill time and hit downtown Fredericksburg for a bit to check the place out. What a neat place! With the exception of the store that has tons of outdoor iron décor (which was seriously high quality and amazingly low-priced), we couldn’t afford much of what we saw. But we sure saw some gorgeous stuff. I have a bunch of decorating ideas now, ideas that I fully plan on crafting myself at home and implementing into my décor. I took a million pictures of lamps and bed frames. Yeah, I’m cool like that.
We headed back to the cabin just in time to meet our limo driver, Bobby McGee (as we referred to him). He was a class act for sure, totally professional. The limo was amazing (for the record, this was my first ride in a limo, in all of my 27 ½ years. Now I wanna do it again, many times over, on a daily basis even). Armed with mimosas, wheat thins and hip-shaking music, we proclaimed loudly, “On to the wineries, Jeeves!”
Warning: the details, such as order of wineries and pretty much everything else from this point forward, are really fuzzy. So I’m going to do my best and not concern myself with order or any other details. Here’s my best recollection of our winery tour:
First winery, Rancho Ponte. This was a nice place with a cool, punk rock server named Tuesday. Unfortunately, the wine was sub-par. Well, actually, it was bad. I’ll be honest. We blame Joe Jackson for this. We decided to slip on out of there and head to lunch. The Peach Tree Tea Room was adorable and quaint, just like it sounds. I felt very girly in there. We had some delicious food and headed out for more winery action!
Second winery was Becker. Amazing. They also have a lavender farm out there, and you know I’m a sucker for native Texas herbs. The place smelled so good. I felt so calm I could have laid down on the wine tasting bar and taken a siesta for twelve hours or so. But I managed to stay on task and we tried the wines. We all like Becker wine anyway, so this place was a shoe-in.
Third winery was Grape Creek. There was a country western guy singing outside and the wine was decent. That’s kind of all I remember. So there you go.
Fourth winery was Woodrose. Loved it. Very much. This was my favorite place, and I think that had more to do with the atmosphere than the wine. The wine was good, no doubt, but this was the only place where we had a table on a patio and the wine was brought to us. Everywhere else, we stood up and tasted the wines from a bar-like apparatus. The patio was shaded and we listened to a guy playing guitar and singing. It was hot outside, and we didn’t even notice because it was so fun there. Awesome Blossom ran into some old sorority sisters. Random. At least they weren’t Hymie’s sorority sisters. Rashelle and I would have never let her live that down.
Then we headed to the snootiest winery of the trip, Pedernales Cellars. Again, Joe Jackson’s fault. At least the view was spectacular and the wine was decent.
Last but not least, we stopped in Torre di Pietra. This place had potential, but unfortunately the kid that was serving us was a total jerk and was making fun of us the whole time. I felt like we had traveled to Dallas or San Antonio all of a sudden and were attending a bachelorette party at Dick’s Last Resort. You know how the waiters are mean to you there? Well, we got a taste of that at this place. Rollin with the Homies named him “Jacob” (not his real name), which I took a little offense to. Because that name is sacred and she knows it. But no matter, we downed our wine samples and hit the dance floor! This place had a live Beatles cover band, and we got down. Rollin with the Homies can do the tootsie roll like you’ve never seen. And Rashelle has more soul than all of us combined. We danced our socks off for one song, and then Bobby McGee joined us on the dance floor! He told us it was time to go, but once that dance machine started dancing, you couldn’t get him to stop! He said to us, “One more song!!!” which was fine with us. We reluctantly left the dance floor after that and headed back to our romantic cottage.
We laughed so hard in the limo on the way home, partly because we were very tipsy from 6 wineries and partly because we are just such great friends that we know how to hit each other’s funny bones. We ordered two of the most expensive pizzas we’ve ever had and sat on the patio of the big house next door until the wee hours of the morning. We had our iPod going, Rashelle and Rollin with the Homies taught the rest of us the “Kid and Play” dance. Where was I when this was popular? I do not remember doing this at Jacksonville High School Elite Night in the 8th grade…
We laughed. And we laughed. And there was nothing like it in the whole wide world.
This blog post stars the following cast:
Hymie (The Trip Planner and Itinerary Queen):
So my girlfriends and I embarked on a “journey” (yeah I said it, Bliss) to Texas Wine Country, Fredericksburg, for a weekend of wineries, laughter and friendship. You know, friendships have to be invested in. You can’t expect to wake up one day when you are old and find a huge lump of money in your savings account for retirement. It’s the same thing with friendships. So we had an “investment weekend.”
You know I don’t use names on here, so here you go: The girls refer to me as Sammy, then you have Awesome Blossom, Rashelle, Hymie, and rounding out the crew is Rollin with the Homies.
We left after work on Friday and headed south. Rollin with the Homies owns a large momma-mobile, so we all piled in (with my dog Bama as well). We decided to take the scenic route vs. I-35 and I am so glad we did. We saw some amazing sunset views and got to stop in Lampasas.
Lemme tell you. Lampasas is an interesting place. And what is up with their Dairy Queen? Listen up, Lampasas Dairy Queen: When you are dealing with 5 girls and a dog with extreme 8pm ice cream cravings, throw us a bone here and make your parking lot easier to navigate. Awesome Blossom had to do some serious stunt driving to get us in and out of that place. When you leave the drive-thru, you are literally driving into a drop off that makes you feel like you are falling off the face of the Earth. We barely made it out of there alive. And we blame Joe Jackson for this (father of Michael). (Sorry, you’ll see a lot of Joe Jackson in this blog… inside joke. You had to be there.)
Ice cream cravings satiated, we made it into Fredericksburg by 11pm. The directions indicated that the cabin was the “last house on the left”, to which Rashelle exclaimed, “Great. We are going to die.” That’s the spirit, Rashelle! Turns out the cabin was not scary or horror-movie-ish in the least. Bullet dodged. We stayed at the adorable and comfortable Potbelly Stove Cottage (shameless plug: http://www.fbglodging.com/lodging/potbel.htm - seriously, go there.) My friend’s folks own the place and I’m serious... They did an amazing job with it. We piled in this cozy cottage, with 2 girls in the bed, 2 girls on the floor and me on the love seat because of my amazing cat-like curling up skills.
The next morning, we woke up and started pumping coffee into our veins. We looked outside noticed that deer were meandering all around our cabin! Too cool. So Hymie announced that she was going to go outside and be a deer whisperer. She claims that a deer (that she named Moesha) came within 3 feet of her, but we saw the deer running for “deer life” (get it?) after she went out there. I’m not sure which story to believe at this point.
Right before leaving for the day, Rashelle confided in us that the two best things in life that have ever happened to her are low rise jeans and hair straighteners. I feel a lot closer to Rashelle now, since she opened up to us about this.
So we decided to kill time and hit downtown Fredericksburg for a bit to check the place out. What a neat place! With the exception of the store that has tons of outdoor iron décor (which was seriously high quality and amazingly low-priced), we couldn’t afford much of what we saw. But we sure saw some gorgeous stuff. I have a bunch of decorating ideas now, ideas that I fully plan on crafting myself at home and implementing into my décor. I took a million pictures of lamps and bed frames. Yeah, I’m cool like that.
We headed back to the cabin just in time to meet our limo driver, Bobby McGee (as we referred to him). He was a class act for sure, totally professional. The limo was amazing (for the record, this was my first ride in a limo, in all of my 27 ½ years. Now I wanna do it again, many times over, on a daily basis even). Armed with mimosas, wheat thins and hip-shaking music, we proclaimed loudly, “On to the wineries, Jeeves!”
Warning: the details, such as order of wineries and pretty much everything else from this point forward, are really fuzzy. So I’m going to do my best and not concern myself with order or any other details. Here’s my best recollection of our winery tour:
First winery, Rancho Ponte. This was a nice place with a cool, punk rock server named Tuesday. Unfortunately, the wine was sub-par. Well, actually, it was bad. I’ll be honest. We blame Joe Jackson for this. We decided to slip on out of there and head to lunch. The Peach Tree Tea Room was adorable and quaint, just like it sounds. I felt very girly in there. We had some delicious food and headed out for more winery action!
Second winery was Becker. Amazing. They also have a lavender farm out there, and you know I’m a sucker for native Texas herbs. The place smelled so good. I felt so calm I could have laid down on the wine tasting bar and taken a siesta for twelve hours or so. But I managed to stay on task and we tried the wines. We all like Becker wine anyway, so this place was a shoe-in.
Third winery was Grape Creek. There was a country western guy singing outside and the wine was decent. That’s kind of all I remember. So there you go.
Fourth winery was Woodrose. Loved it. Very much. This was my favorite place, and I think that had more to do with the atmosphere than the wine. The wine was good, no doubt, but this was the only place where we had a table on a patio and the wine was brought to us. Everywhere else, we stood up and tasted the wines from a bar-like apparatus. The patio was shaded and we listened to a guy playing guitar and singing. It was hot outside, and we didn’t even notice because it was so fun there. Awesome Blossom ran into some old sorority sisters. Random. At least they weren’t Hymie’s sorority sisters. Rashelle and I would have never let her live that down.
Then we headed to the snootiest winery of the trip, Pedernales Cellars. Again, Joe Jackson’s fault. At least the view was spectacular and the wine was decent.
Last but not least, we stopped in Torre di Pietra. This place had potential, but unfortunately the kid that was serving us was a total jerk and was making fun of us the whole time. I felt like we had traveled to Dallas or San Antonio all of a sudden and were attending a bachelorette party at Dick’s Last Resort. You know how the waiters are mean to you there? Well, we got a taste of that at this place. Rollin with the Homies named him “Jacob” (not his real name), which I took a little offense to. Because that name is sacred and she knows it. But no matter, we downed our wine samples and hit the dance floor! This place had a live Beatles cover band, and we got down. Rollin with the Homies can do the tootsie roll like you’ve never seen. And Rashelle has more soul than all of us combined. We danced our socks off for one song, and then Bobby McGee joined us on the dance floor! He told us it was time to go, but once that dance machine started dancing, you couldn’t get him to stop! He said to us, “One more song!!!” which was fine with us. We reluctantly left the dance floor after that and headed back to our romantic cottage.
We laughed so hard in the limo on the way home, partly because we were very tipsy from 6 wineries and partly because we are just such great friends that we know how to hit each other’s funny bones. We ordered two of the most expensive pizzas we’ve ever had and sat on the patio of the big house next door until the wee hours of the morning. We had our iPod going, Rashelle and Rollin with the Homies taught the rest of us the “Kid and Play” dance. Where was I when this was popular? I do not remember doing this at Jacksonville High School Elite Night in the 8th grade…
We laughed. And we laughed. And there was nothing like it in the whole wide world.
This blog post stars the following cast:
Hymie (The Trip Planner and Itinerary Queen):
Awesome Blossom (The Engineer):
Rollin with the Homies (the Hot Momma):
Rashelle (the Rump Shaker):
And Yours Truly.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
OMAHA… Somewhere in Middle America.
Last week I had the pleasure of hanging out in the Mecca of College Baseball, Omaha during the College World Series. And at the last run of Rosenblatt Stadium, to boot. My man’s brother plays for South Carolina, so we donned our garnet and black and headed north.
My man and I got to his folks’ house ‘round midnight on Thursday, and tried to sleep a few hours in preparation for the 3am departure time coupled with 10 hour road trip. I fell asleep and it literally felt like I woke up 5 minutes later, but it had been a full 3 hours. I haven’t felt like that since college, where we would wisely fall asleep at 5am, only to wake up in time for our 8am test. We were very smart back then, obviously. But I digress… While I was getting dressed and talking myself out of laying back down for about 12 hours, my man’s dad (“MMDad”) was loading the car and, in his sleep-deprived state, managed to set the alarm off. Luckily I was already awake and aware of my surroundings, because otherwise I would have come out with swinging some kung fu kicks and probably would have managed to hurt myself and knock a few things off the walls in the process. He quipped “I guess you’re awake now,” to which I replied, “Well, my family uses alarm clocks, but if that’s the way you do it around here, I’m on board.” MMDad: 0, Me: 1.
I think my favorite thing about this situation is that I met My Man’s Mom (“MMMom”) for the first time, and although unconventional, it worked! Instead of the usual “Hi, nice to meet you at this fine restaurant where we will get to know each other over some fine dinner and a fine glass of wine. P.S. I really like your son.” Instead, it was “Hi, nice to meet you at 3am, yes if I had my druthers, I would have makeup on and maybe brushed teeth, let’s get to know each other while we ride in a car together for the next 10 hours, and while we’re at it, let’s spend the next 72 hours together! P.S. I really like your son.”
You know what? I wouldn’t have had it any other way, though. We had an adventure! And we have some great memories. And those folks are truly awesome people. Their son didn’t fall far from the tree, either.
The car ride was good, I slept a lot. MMDad and I were chatting about my job, and I was telling him that I just started recently and am so thrilled to be here. He was asking about the interview process and I told him that it was down to me and one other guy, to which he quipped, “So you won it on good looks?” To which I replied, “No, I’m pretty sure I won it on the swimsuit and talent portion.” MMDad: 0, Me: 2.
Omaha seems like any other town, but Omaha during the College World Series is a crazy place. I felt like we were at Spring Break in West Palm Beach, or maybe at the Texas State Fair, if everyone who attended the entire time came on the same day. We got there in time to watch the South Carolina batting practice, and my man suggested that we go to the outfield to try to catch one of his brother’s homerun balls. So we sat amongst the sweaty, but super cute pre-teen boys, who had their catcalls down pat. They were working the outfielders, trying hard to score a ball. His brother hit a bunch of homeruns (he’s just good like that), but one came real close to us and bounced off the bleachers and right back into the right field guy’s glove. He spotted us and threw it right to us. So of course we had to have his brother sign it. And of course it was super awesome.
We headed to the hotel and rested a minute before heading back to Rosenblatt for the Opening Ceremonies, which were amazing. I felt like we were watching our own personal version of the Olympic Opening Ceremonies. We had a military band, parachuting military guys, Barry Bonds, Will Clark and tons of baseball greats. But the best thing? The fireworks. Holy moly. I have never seen fireworks as gigantic and beautiful and breathtaking as the fireworks at this place. Here’s a picture from thestate.com:
They were larger than life. We predicted we would hear “Proud To Be An American” and “Put Me In Coach” and we were correct on both counts. I will never forget how beautiful those fireworks were.
Slept like a rock and it was time to wake up for a day of baseball. TCU was playing at 1pm and we were able to watch it due to the hook-up prowess of the man himself, Hymie. He got two random tickets for us and we tried the first seats (but they didn’t work too well) and then we tried the second seats and they were just fine. We had a great view of the game, we didn’t have to pay anything and we got to sit next to an adorable baseball loving little girl named Jessica. And TCU won! Good times.
After the game, we headed to a steakhouse called Gorat’s and had some pretty good food. The best part was sitting with my man’s brother (“MMBro”) and another teammate and his folks. Our waitress is a real life sumo wrestler, a burly white lady with a bun on top of her head. Crazy. Everybody is so nice and funny and so much fun to be around. And MMDad picked up our check. That was so generous of him.
After dinner, my man and I went to the Old Market area for some one-on-one Man/Dana time. We walked around, saw some crazy people, and settled in at a brewery (the name escapes me at the moment). It was so relaxing and nice to cozy up in that booth outside and watch the people, drink some good beer and talk about how much fun we were having. We walked back to the car and stood on a bridge for a while watching this borderline amazing waterfall thing that shot really high up in the air. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like a wall of water, and the wind would catch it and send it leaning like the Tower of Pisa. And it had lights in the water! Omaha, you keep impressing me.
Slept like a rock again and got up with some baseball anticipation. South Carolina was playing at 1pm, and we looked out the window to see…. RAIN. Now, let me go off on a short tangent for a minute. I love rain. I love rain so much that I would be the happiest girl in this town if it rained every day. That’s my favorite thing about northern Florida – the fact that it rains every day at 3:00pm. I dance in the rain at my house, in the grocery store parking lot, wherever. Love. It. You picking up what I’m putting down?
However, I’m not in love with certain rain drops that jeopardize our ability to see MMBro play some College World Series ball. Bottom line, we hoped for a break in the clouds all day but it didn’t happen. So we headed back on our jet plane, with no South Carolina game-watching under our belt. But on the positive side, we got to hang out with MMBro and his teammates. We got to see a game. We got to spend time with MMDad and MMMom. I’m putting this weekend in the win column, for sure.
And… as it turns out, unless you have been hiding under a rock, you know that South Carolina WON the College World Series!!! WOO HOO!!! Go Gamecocks!! (and that is the only and last time you’ll ever hear me say that… please forgive me, fellow Bama fans).
Till next time.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
"Maybe it's a tumor" -the kid from Kindergarten Cop
A dear friend of mine recently received some news that nobody wants to hear. She found out that she has a tumor in her left breast.
Before this occurred, her life was extremely close to perfect. I’m telling you, this girl is blessed. She has a fantastic job that pays well and makes her happy. She has fabulous friends and family who love her unconditionally. And then there is this amazing guy who makes her heart race and her knees weak. So this reality check isn’t ideal, but it's life. Life can be messy. And scary. And inconvenient.
Here’s the story: She went to the doctor because of sharp pain in her right breast and he ordered a sonogram. She wasn’t worried, just ready to figure out what was happening. The right side turned out to be just fine (what a relief), but the left side revealed a tumor that is in the very back and isn’t detectable by self-exam. She said that the sight of that black circle on the sonogram screen felt like taking a bullet. With the needle biopsy right around the corner, she is mentally preparing herself for a little pain and hopefully some good news.
How does that work? You go to bed one night, wake up the next morning, and poof – you have a tumor? Don’t you think you’d feel something growing inside your body the way a woman feels a baby growing or the way I felt my stomach growing when I ate cheese quesadillas at lunch?
I think we all want to feel “normal” and there’s nothing like a tumor or something similar to make you feel anything but. But what is “normal?” I guess it is the halfway point between what you want and what you can get. And she is trying to feel normal, and is trying to keep her mind off of it. But I know it’s got to be bothering the heck out of her.
But it isn’t like the movies. She didn’t crawl into bed and wallow in self-pity until some cheery person waltzes in, opens the curtains to bring in some sunshine, and orders her to get up and stop crying. When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep walking. So that’s what she did and will continue to do until this is all over.
She is full of hope, which can be hard to maintain sometimes. Is hope a drug we need to go off of? Or is it keeping us alive? There is no harm in believing. And her strong faith in God is going to carry her through this, no doubt.
So I told her ‘that which does not kill you makes you stronger’. I read that in my favorite magazine, Convenient Theories for You Monthly. And I'm sure it's true.
When Charles Dickens wrote "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," I believe he must have been dealing with something like my friend’s situation. Wonderful life with a curveball thrown in. But nothing she can’t handle.
Before this occurred, her life was extremely close to perfect. I’m telling you, this girl is blessed. She has a fantastic job that pays well and makes her happy. She has fabulous friends and family who love her unconditionally. And then there is this amazing guy who makes her heart race and her knees weak. So this reality check isn’t ideal, but it's life. Life can be messy. And scary. And inconvenient.
Here’s the story: She went to the doctor because of sharp pain in her right breast and he ordered a sonogram. She wasn’t worried, just ready to figure out what was happening. The right side turned out to be just fine (what a relief), but the left side revealed a tumor that is in the very back and isn’t detectable by self-exam. She said that the sight of that black circle on the sonogram screen felt like taking a bullet. With the needle biopsy right around the corner, she is mentally preparing herself for a little pain and hopefully some good news.
How does that work? You go to bed one night, wake up the next morning, and poof – you have a tumor? Don’t you think you’d feel something growing inside your body the way a woman feels a baby growing or the way I felt my stomach growing when I ate cheese quesadillas at lunch?
I think we all want to feel “normal” and there’s nothing like a tumor or something similar to make you feel anything but. But what is “normal?” I guess it is the halfway point between what you want and what you can get. And she is trying to feel normal, and is trying to keep her mind off of it. But I know it’s got to be bothering the heck out of her.
But it isn’t like the movies. She didn’t crawl into bed and wallow in self-pity until some cheery person waltzes in, opens the curtains to bring in some sunshine, and orders her to get up and stop crying. When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep walking. So that’s what she did and will continue to do until this is all over.
She is full of hope, which can be hard to maintain sometimes. Is hope a drug we need to go off of? Or is it keeping us alive? There is no harm in believing. And her strong faith in God is going to carry her through this, no doubt.
So I told her ‘that which does not kill you makes you stronger’. I read that in my favorite magazine, Convenient Theories for You Monthly. And I'm sure it's true.
When Charles Dickens wrote "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," I believe he must have been dealing with something like my friend’s situation. Wonderful life with a curveball thrown in. But nothing she can’t handle.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Nine Is Enough
I am writing this remotely while traveling through East Texas. Bama and I are in a black Dodge Ram with my folks and their dog Buddy, en route to home from a busy and crazy family reunion in DeRidder, Louisiana. My dad is the youngest of 9 kids, who each have big families of their own, so you can imagine why I felt like I was in the middle of the Duggar Family TV Show (that wacky family with 19 kids).
It is easiest to go by numbers in this family when writing about them, with 1 being the oldest kid and 9 being the youngest. We got there on Friday afternoon and chilled out, in preparation of the insanity that was to come on Saturday morning. Aunt No. 5 and I swapped funny stories and she told me a doozy about my sweet Aunt No. 3. Once upon a time in the mid-70s, No. 3 went to visit No. 5 where she was living the hot single life. No. 3 had never tried alcohol before, so No. 5 (who preferred shooting straight whiskey) recommended screwdrivers, that seemed harmless enough. Four or five screwdrivers later, No. 3 was telling everyone she could get her hands on that she was drinking "pliars." She even yelled at the drive-thru guy at McDonald's, telling him all about her "pliars". Knowing sweet little No. 3, this is just too good.
I walked into the kitchen to visit with my Grandma and a girl walked into the house, kissed my Grandma hello and gave me a hug and said it was good to see me. I have never seen this girl in my life, so I told my Grandma that I had no idea who that was, and she said, "Well, neither do I!" Oh, brother. See what I mean? Haha...
Then my favorite uncle (No. 4) got there, along with his entourage. You would have to see this strapping man, who works with his hands and has a glass eye, to fully appreciate the entourage which consists of two of the fluffiest, frou-frouest Shih Tzus you have ever seen and his girlfriend of over 13 years. It is always good to see Uncle No. 4 because he is so kind and so funny.
Then it got to be time to take a quick nap, so my mom and I took my 4 year old cousin to our RV for some rest and had to play a game with her to get her to rest. This extremely clever game, created by yours truly, the BBE (Best Babysitter Ever), consists of a contest where we see who can keep their eyes closed the longest. Well this worked for a little while, and by a little while I mean 15 minutes. Everyone stayed up late, swapping stories about our family and discussing the ins and outs of Gary Coleman's death, but yours truly took my tired bootie to bed super early. I had to do everything necessary to prepare for Insanity Day.
I awoke Saturday morning with the same anticipation one would have on the first day of school and dressed in my hot weather best. 13 years in this family has taught me that there are many cameras around and these photos always get framed. So I busted out the liquid eyeliner and some lipstick, while simultaneously attempting to not look like a streetwalker.
Before I knew it, there were over 65 people inside and outside my grandparents' home. What freaked me out the most was that I was looking at kids who aren't kids anymore. I have rarely had the moment when I see kids who were 5 years old the last time I saw them and are now in high school. Talk about freaking me out.... sheesh.
I did "girly things" with my niece, who, as it turns out, is a fantastic makeup artist. I put beautiful makeup on my beautiful girl. I put some gorgeous silver eye shadow on her and some "cat eye" eyeliner. After getting my fair share of blue eye shadow applied to my eyelids, we settled in and played games on my iPhone. I love that girl, and I love my nephew, who is hilarious! And so intelligent. Those are some good kids. I'm so proud.
I ate some of the best, worst-for-you food that I have eaten in a long time. If you know me personally, you may know that I am a semi-vegetarian, who strives for full vegetarianism every day, but only succeeds approximately 6 out of the 7 days of the week. I ate boudin sausage, which was amazing. I ate plates of potato salad, which were amazing. I ate four, count them: FOUR, desserts! Wow... So I'm still trying to come out of my food coma. I ate a caprese salad for dinner, so I'm somewhat back on track.
What a fantastic time. I am so appreciative to my grandparents who made this such a great weekend, especially my Pawpaw. He's so wonderful. What a great family I lucked into.
It is easiest to go by numbers in this family when writing about them, with 1 being the oldest kid and 9 being the youngest. We got there on Friday afternoon and chilled out, in preparation of the insanity that was to come on Saturday morning. Aunt No. 5 and I swapped funny stories and she told me a doozy about my sweet Aunt No. 3. Once upon a time in the mid-70s, No. 3 went to visit No. 5 where she was living the hot single life. No. 3 had never tried alcohol before, so No. 5 (who preferred shooting straight whiskey) recommended screwdrivers, that seemed harmless enough. Four or five screwdrivers later, No. 3 was telling everyone she could get her hands on that she was drinking "pliars." She even yelled at the drive-thru guy at McDonald's, telling him all about her "pliars". Knowing sweet little No. 3, this is just too good.
I walked into the kitchen to visit with my Grandma and a girl walked into the house, kissed my Grandma hello and gave me a hug and said it was good to see me. I have never seen this girl in my life, so I told my Grandma that I had no idea who that was, and she said, "Well, neither do I!" Oh, brother. See what I mean? Haha...
Then my favorite uncle (No. 4) got there, along with his entourage. You would have to see this strapping man, who works with his hands and has a glass eye, to fully appreciate the entourage which consists of two of the fluffiest, frou-frouest Shih Tzus you have ever seen and his girlfriend of over 13 years. It is always good to see Uncle No. 4 because he is so kind and so funny.
Then it got to be time to take a quick nap, so my mom and I took my 4 year old cousin to our RV for some rest and had to play a game with her to get her to rest. This extremely clever game, created by yours truly, the BBE (Best Babysitter Ever), consists of a contest where we see who can keep their eyes closed the longest. Well this worked for a little while, and by a little while I mean 15 minutes. Everyone stayed up late, swapping stories about our family and discussing the ins and outs of Gary Coleman's death, but yours truly took my tired bootie to bed super early. I had to do everything necessary to prepare for Insanity Day.
I awoke Saturday morning with the same anticipation one would have on the first day of school and dressed in my hot weather best. 13 years in this family has taught me that there are many cameras around and these photos always get framed. So I busted out the liquid eyeliner and some lipstick, while simultaneously attempting to not look like a streetwalker.
Before I knew it, there were over 65 people inside and outside my grandparents' home. What freaked me out the most was that I was looking at kids who aren't kids anymore. I have rarely had the moment when I see kids who were 5 years old the last time I saw them and are now in high school. Talk about freaking me out.... sheesh.
I did "girly things" with my niece, who, as it turns out, is a fantastic makeup artist. I put beautiful makeup on my beautiful girl. I put some gorgeous silver eye shadow on her and some "cat eye" eyeliner. After getting my fair share of blue eye shadow applied to my eyelids, we settled in and played games on my iPhone. I love that girl, and I love my nephew, who is hilarious! And so intelligent. Those are some good kids. I'm so proud.
I ate some of the best, worst-for-you food that I have eaten in a long time. If you know me personally, you may know that I am a semi-vegetarian, who strives for full vegetarianism every day, but only succeeds approximately 6 out of the 7 days of the week. I ate boudin sausage, which was amazing. I ate plates of potato salad, which were amazing. I ate four, count them: FOUR, desserts! Wow... So I'm still trying to come out of my food coma. I ate a caprese salad for dinner, so I'm somewhat back on track.
What a fantastic time. I am so appreciative to my grandparents who made this such a great weekend, especially my Pawpaw. He's so wonderful. What a great family I lucked into.
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