MandaHugandKiss

2007-11-01T22:09:00.000-06:00

I had to write before I forgot all of the details. First of all, I heart Myspace. I've reconnected w/ so many people and it's great.
Okay, so today was my last day of my twenties. It's approximately 45 minutes until I'm 30.
What I did tonight.....
I went to ASME. That is the American Society of Mechanical Engineers. It was fun. It was good food and good conversation and a room full of men whom sounded like my husband. He got to talk to men about their jobs and make connections, and feel great. I was a little apprehensive at first about going, but I knew Jonathan really wanted me to go....It was in Russellville at this beautiful spot on the water with the perfect sunset. They awarded this guy who was like Mr Mechanical Engineer as a special ASME member. His wife and kids were there and his wife sat there with this smile on her face, listening to the Executive Super Smart President of Nuclear Engineering at Huge Company go on and on about her husband. I watched her the whole time and thought about how I can't wait for the day that Jonathan is awarded something big for one of his ideas or gadgets.
I have to say, it was a great last day as being 29.

2007-10-25T18:27:00.000-06:00

So I've been to only one game this year. I have to say that even though we aren't doing so hot, I love going. I love the weather, the tailgating at Patti's w/ the crew, and the fans and knowing exactly who you are going to be sitting next to. It makes me happy.
I'm kinda over my blog. I don't know who most of the people are that read it consistantly and then the folks who read it that I talk to often so this is old news. And the occassional TB Test googler, it's not like I want to remove my blog, I just don't write much. I also have a mild addiction to myspace. :-) I didn't think that it would happen, but it did.
I will be 30 in a week. Wow, 30. That seemed so old when I was 17 or 18 but now here it is, right there. I can remember being a freshmen in college rooming w/ Andrea and being 18 and thinking I knew everything. It seems like just a few years ago. I know that sounds cliche. :-) It's going to be a nice big party with lots of my favorite people-new and old. I can't wait.

2007-09-12T22:36:00.000-06:00

I love this kid, the beach, the sun and the sand squishing between my toes. I can't believe that it has been a month since we were there. It was perfect. Jonathan got to play golf (and did very well), we got to chill, cook out and drink beer. And we even did a little shopping.

Life is good these days. Marriage life-almost a YEAR. I can't believe it! Man, we have had some issues and he has stuck with me and my craziness and insecurities. He really does love me. And he makes sure I know it every minute. He is my lover, my best friend and my number one fan (cheesy as that sounds).

I even did a myspace page. What is the world coming to?

2007-08-07T14:34:00.000-06:00

Okay I cannot WAIT to see this kid...and on the beach! I am so excited for vacation that I can hardly stand it. Oh well, thank goodness I only have 20 more minutes and then I am an official no makeup, toes in sand, frizzy hair, out in the sun all day BUM!

2007-08-03T13:15:00.000-06:00

This picture of me explains exactly where I am today...............

I am in the wrong mode. I'm not in work mode or trying to piece together state reporting mode or any kind of mode except VACATION mode. Dang, only 4 more days and then we are leaving on a jet plane to the beach. UGH. I can't wait. I want to leave NOW....oh wait, pile of laundry and a not so clean house....and the BBQ on Sunday w/ the parents and the Inlaws.....okay so let's just keep it at Wednesday then.

2007-08-01T12:28:00.000-06:00

Wow, it is getting a little closer to home. And this one is a bit different. Cover story for Consumer Affairs in Austin, TX. This is fun stuff. I feel like I should sign autographs. Ha Ha

2007-07-11T21:23:00.000-06:00

So here is our 1:31 minutes of fame.

http://wbztv.com/seenon/local_story_187155221.html

2007-07-11T20:41:00.001-06:00

Ah baseball. I love this sport. I love the smells and the sound of the cracking bat and the beer and the food. This was my 3rd game this year I think....can't remember, I've lost count. This was our first double date with Michael and Brandy. Love them. Jonathan can hang with Michael and I can hang with Brandy. Glad they look like the beer guzzling couple but oh no....Jonathan and I had beer, it was just on the ground.
The new Arkansas Travelers' stadium is amazing. It is lush and green and breezy and there are more than 4 bathroom stalls. Even though I have yet to see them win a game, I enjoy going. I always see someone I know and I'm content as a lamb sitting in the sun and enjoying my beer and some sort of fried something or another and being in the arms of my honey. It's good times.

2007-06-12T21:02:00.000-06:00

Lisa did it. Her and Layne are now married. It only took 7 years. Wow. When I think about 7 years ago and when they met, it seems more like forever ago. We were at Truett's wedding in Colorado and this guy started chatting with Lisa. They hit it off and talked for a year. Then we moved to CO and eventually we moved next door to him in the tiniest freaking apartment EVER. He said that he'd never marry her. Never say never. God knew best and he allowed both of them to live without each other for a while so that they would appreciate each other even more. It was a beautiful wedding filled with food and friends and sparklers. The worse part about the night was that the weather was very humid and the air conditioner decided to poop out the night of her wedding. It was hot and it made people a little cranky and the shoes were uncomfortable but we coped with dancing and laughing about old times. I do have to say that my date was the hottest man there, groom excluded. :-) Congrats you guys. I CAN'T WAIT to see that house decorated by a woman.

2007-05-18T21:03:00.001-06:00

It started with Fight Club. It continues with UFC. I cannot get enough of buff men beating the crap out of each other.
Is it the muscles? Is it all of the bald men? Is it the tattoos? My goodness....the tattoos. Whatever it is, it rocks. I have Jonathan and my sister to thank for this obsession. Jonathan loved watching UFC, I didn't get it until Sara told me how great it was. One fight and I was hooked.
I'm all about KOs, reaches and all the bouts. Bring on the punches, the kicks and the holds....the more blood the better. Dang, kinda makes ya wanna pick a fight.

2007-04-28T23:34:00.000-06:00

I'm watching Sex and the City. Miranda just found out she was pregnant...by a guy with one ball.

I did a lot today. I visited a friend in the hospital. Baby #2. Crazy. The first one, they were all nervous, not wanting to leave. Today, they were anxious, ready to go, bored to have been going through the motions. They are now pros.

Then I napped. It was nice.

Tried to go to a Travs game at the new field. Didn't work out so well. Long lines and standing room only. What? No seat? No thank you. So we went to eat Mexican, talk and laugh.

It's great too when my great friend's hubby meshes quite well with my hubby. We looked at Venus and the moon, met the neighbors. Enjoyed Planet Earth and Yellow Tail red wine.

I'm so blessed. I'm happy, I'm content. Life is good. And just to think, a year ago, I was miserable. So miserable I didn't even know it. It's kinda funny these days to think about that time in my life when I was so confused and so out of whack with love and life.

Now, I'm enjoying car rides with the windows down listening to John Mayer, bare feet on the dash, knowing that this man sitting beside me is mine. All mine. My soul mate, my friend, my partner, my lover. It's a wonderful feeling.

2007-04-25T12:51:00.000-06:00

I need a nap. Allergies are killer

2007-04-08T13:53:00.000-06:00

Ah life is good. We are officially in the eyes of God HITCHED, work rocks, weather is booming. Wow. Having a blast. Love my honey. He loves me. What more does one need?

2007-03-18T20:38:00.000-06:00

Holy cow it's been over a month. I swore that I would so not be one of those kids that would start a blog and not consistently write. Oops.
I have good excuses of course, but who really wants to hear them? Oh, you do...okay then. I have been at my new cushy job about a month. I think it was a good move. There is always something to keep me busy, they let us use IM, there are really cool people that work there and (I saved the best for last....) the powers that be saw fit to insert Charmin toilet paper in each stall. I could not have been happier. Let's face it, if you are a normal human working 8-5 or even 9-5, you probably piss more at the office than you do at home and although Jonathan and I dig the expensive tp, you can't always get the same royal treatment at the office. That was my first comment about this place. I do love the nice tp.
I've also been planning our wedding ceremony. Only 6 more days and then I can relax. But as we carried in our many presents from our shower this weekend, I thought about what I will be concentrating on after the wedding....Lord only knows. Maybe more frequent blog postings. ha ha.
We moved. Yes we are done with the one bedroom and have moved on to bigger and better rentals. I love this place and it's nice to know that I am not going to have to move ever if I don't want to. It is nice to be in another room of the house and you can't see what other people in your house are doing. There's even room for a dining room table. Yup, I'm a grown up. Dinner parties and placemats. ahhhhh how nice.
Anywho...so that's my story and why I've been a slacker.

2007-02-17T16:16:00.000-06:00

Up until this year, the only really good Valentine's Day I had was in 7th grade. My boyfriend was Mike Bell and he bought me a rose and got me a card. It was great compared to last year when the guy that I was with, didn't even say "Happy Valentine's Day" after I gave him his present.
This year, my honey got me the perfume that I wanted a day before V day and brought me roses while I was keeping the wee ones. He rocks...and not just because I got a present or flowers, but because he really loves me and loves to see my face when he surprises me.

2007-02-13T00:05:00.000-06:00

When I was younger, I loved going through car washes. I though it was the coolest thing and loud and scary all at the same time. The first time I went through one, I screamed. It scared the crap out of me. I thought that the car was going to explode. I know I was very dramatic back then...
Sunday Jonathan and I went to fill up his tank. He was very proud of his jeep because he had just purchased these huge new tires that made his jeep look totally badass.
He decided that since their was bird poo on his hood, he would go through the car wash. I have to say, this was the best car wash ever. We had some cute love song playing on the radio, he grabbed my hand and just leaned over on my shoulder and kissed my neck as the water cascaded on the jeep. We just sat there in that position for a long time, kissing on occasion and being all mushy lovey dovey. The wax came on and as it squirted green and purple stripes on the window, I noted the beautiful moment of it all. Here I am, in a car wash, having a lovely time with the man I love. It was perfectly, squeaky, clean fun.

2007-02-05T23:44:00.000-06:00

Real live snow this weekend. Just like the Colorado ones I've so missed.
The snowball that Jonathan threw at me. He was loving the snow. I was loving the warm heat of our apartment.

2007-02-04T21:45:00.000-06:00

This Cat........

Did this.......

And that's right folks, he stayed asleep...even with a butthole on the side of his face. I heart these guys.

2007-01-26T23:41:00.000-06:00

I'm not a big fan of drama. I like ordinary, plain, every day life. You know, the kind of life that Jim Carrey had in The Truman Show. Nothing wrong ever went down, you saw the same folks every day and they were nice and if you did get off course a little with a cute girl at a football game, men with cool headsets and black SUVs would come grab your ass and all of the sudden, that cute girl moved to Bangkok with her parents.
Life has not been so Truman Show lately. I had my first big stress out a few weeks ago when I learned that the office rumor was not so much a rumor, but actual fact. I will need to be looking for another job in a little bit. I'm sad about that because I love my job. I mean, I heart my job as much as a mom hearts a kid. A good kid, not the bad kid that shoots the neighbor's dog. My co-workers are my family and the thought of loosing that and having to start over, makes my stomach turn flips in uncertainty.
Also, I'm planning a wedding ceremony and that is a wee bit stressful. The 'perfect' restaurant for the rehearsal dinner is now not so 'perfect'. It's closed. Nice. Glad that douche took the time to write my name and number on the calender.
Today was not so great either. We are moving. Why? The powers that be say so. It's a long story that I really don't feel like writing about....
BUT through all of this I am hanging in there. I'm keeping a smile on my face and I've only had 1 major freak out that I very much regret. I'm blessed thought because Jonathan is forgiving and more than understanding. He's been amazing thorough all of this and I'm glad that one of us is being not so crazy in the moment because Lord knows I am.
On a lighter note....
I am such a baby whiny pants when it comes to scary movies and yet I love to watch them. I always wear my glasses while watching so that I have the ability to remove my seeing aids in a way that others are unaware of my chicken-ness. If I were to close my eyes or cover them, I would be made fun of. With the glasses, I simply scoot them down a bit so that I cannot see. Jonathan talked me into The American Haunting tonight. It was good. I only peed my pants 1 time and part of that was because the cat jumped up in Jonathan's lap where my head was laying. It was The Grudge all over again. Lately the TV gods have been really trying to scare me. As I sit here writing this post, the preview for The Messengers has come on TWICE. I try not to look, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see that little kid smooching his eyeballs in explaination of what he sees lurking in the corner of the barn. All I can say is, thank God I have someone to cuddle with tonight.

2007-01-19T12:19:00.000-06:00

Who says that TV is not educational? I hardly ever watch it and I can name 10 things that I will take with me for life, stored in my brain to be spit out….all because I vegged on the couch watching the tube. So here you go kids. Sorry it's been a while since my last posting.

10 Things I learned while watching TV last night:

1. Steve Madden was in jail for 3 years for stock fraud. (wow, really? Still…great shoe ideas, except for those black ones that Jonathan thought were 'sexy' that don't so much like my feet).

2. Doctors are not suppose to be emotionally attached to their patients...even when they played that cute girl in Hope Floats but now plays a girl who's backside looks like the scary sister Rachel from Pet Semetary…still does not qualify you to give 300,000 bones anomously out of the 8.7 million that your hella cute fiance left you.

3. Kissing a cute younger guy can be a lot of fun, especially when he was that nerdy macaroni and cheese eating fool from The Wedding Planner.

4. The History Channel taught me all about illegal drugs last night. Where they came from and when, who uses them, and allllllllll the trouble you can get into for partaking in them, but it was always pointed out that they are supposidly very entertaining.

5. In the statement 'Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll'….the 'drug' that Chas Jankel (learned the writer's name on Wikipedia) was refering to was LSD.

6. Eva Longoria loves to have color color color….mostly red. AND she has a hair stylist, a makeup stylist (who was kinda scary), and a fashion stylist (with no hair and always sports big sunglasses) who call themselves 'Team Eva'.

7. There was a guy in the east somewhere who killed his girlfriend's parents and drank their blood kinda like a margartia.

8. Jada Smith usually picks out Will Smith's outfits. Sometimes she gives him a choice, but he usually sits patiently on the bed while she showers, anxiously awaiting her choice of outfit for the evening....I had a doll like that when I was younger.

9. The reason a condom wrapper is so hard to open is so the woman has a last shot to back out of the forthcoming act if she so desires.

10. Honey Wheat Tortillas with some turkey in them are a very tasty (and healthy) brainfood snack when you are watching mad doses of TV and worring about the wedding dress fitting o' so snug.

Inspiration for this list: The Style Network, The History Channel, Seinfeld, Grey's Anatomy

2007-01-08T15:58:00.000-06:00

This weekend was all about the wedding. I met with the wedding planner on Saturday morning, armed with my planning book. I walked away with a totally different flower choice, decoration schemes, a cake maker and a bit of a headache from all the girly wedding stuff.
On to the fun part….wedding registry. You give the jewerly clerk your driver's license, they give you a gun, you scan every little (or big) item that your heart desires and it is stored for others to view and you hope that each and every one of your items are purchased. I only got to scan a few items though because Jonathan was a gun hog. I guess it made him feel all manly and such but dang it, I like to pretend that everything I scan is going to magically appear at our apartment too. I got over it because he did let me pick out everything exactly how I wanted it, except the blender. He picked the blender.

I was proud that we did not go overboard on things. Yes, secretly you want the $54 digital iron and the Black and Decker super toaster that toasts 8 pieces at a time, but then you remember you have no cabinet space and rarely is toast toasted 8 pieces at a time, and you refrain from this idea.

During our journey of scanning, we found a new bedroom suite on sale for $105. It was pretty, it was black finish, it was perfect. It matched our whole bedroom.
We decided not to put this on the list and to just go ahead and purchase it. After a trip to the car with the electronics guy's measuring tape, Jonathan determined that yes, it will fit in my car and yes it will be an uncomfortable ride back to Little Rock, but it's worth it.
Two of Wal-Mart's finest loaded it into my car for us and we couldn't have been happier.
Until we got home and realized it was brown. Dark chocolate to be exact.
The smart folks over at the packaging plant decided to play a little bit of a joke on the consumer. Hardy har har, guys. Hardy har har. The box says 'black finish'. The sticker on the box says 'dark chocolate'. I have news for them, it's BROWN.
After another trip to Wal-Mart and a few discussions later, we decided that it was too good of a deal and that we would keep it and paint it.
The next day, Jonathan made his pilgrimage to Home Depot and talked to a young man employeed by this establishment who told him about paint and primer and also offered some advice about not bringing 'big girls home' for 'fun' in the platform bed because he had done so in college and this 'big girl' and himself broke the bed in their 'fun'.

Thanks!

We dressed in some bummy clothes and invaded his parent's garage. It started off kinda cute with our 1st project together. We sat up the radio, got drinks and prepared for an afternoon of priming and painting. The cuteness wore off about 5 pm when the primer was looking a little funky and the garage hit 30 below. I painted and painted till I was famished. We breaked, ate and I did not realize how tired we both were...

Until the Indian raindance.

We were painting quitely to ourselves and I got some paint on my finger. Perfect time to some some painting on a face. Jonathan beat me to it. 'Come here a second' he says. (I see the paint on his fingers). I ask why and he says he wants a kiss. The kiss leads into us almost jabbing each other in the eye with our finger. We wound up looking like Indian Warriors.

Now, I love my honey. He's very intelligent and can hold a conversation with anyone and has an opinion about everything but last night, he lost it. He grabbed a stick and started doing a raindance and spearing the buffalo. His mother thought we had rolled some fat ones in the garage or something because we were both painted on, and laughing histerically. This story would not be complete without the visuals. Enjoy.

2007-01-05T15:45:00.000-06:00

My nugget misses me. Last night my sister called me and said that my niece was sitting waiting patiently to talk to me. She had been saying 'duh' (which is short for Manda for you slow folks) repetitively.
Sara asked her where 'duh' was. My little nugget Brianna pointed to Sara's pink Razor phone. Sara politely picked it up and called me. This story of course made me a little teary-eyed and my heart twinged because I miss her so.
I did have a lovely conversation with her though.
Nugget: Hi
Me: Hey Brianna, I love you
Brianna: hablahboogoooblee
(Sara in the background….'say party')
Nugget: PARTY!!!!!
Me: Ah you said party
Nugget: PARTY!!!
Me: What are you doing? You having fun? I miss you
Nugget: DUH DUH DUH
Seriously, I heart that kid.

2007-01-03T16:57:00.000-06:00

Justin and Cameron
Of course I am kidding, but what a fun topic for discussion at the office.

Co-worker, Ryan (yes this is the underwire Ryan) and I were chatting today when we were asked by our manager, who had just arrived on the scenes of the office, "what have I missed today?"
Ryan: not a lot really
Me: Well, Cameron and Justin split
Ryan: Oh yeah, that's right!
Manager: Well good for her, I mean, he looked like an oversized q-tip or something. I don't know what people see in him.
Ryan: Well, he is bringing sexy back.
I bout pissed myself.

2006-12-29T13:29:00.000-06:00

Where's my stapler?

It's cute. I think that they called each other this morning all jr high-like and made sure that they were in sync with their plaid shirts, khaki pants and brown shoes. Precious. This is also day 2 of the "accidential" dress alike.

2006-12-28T08:33:00.000-06:00

I cannot believe that I have been so dilligent with my blog writing. It's like I can't stop. : ) 3 in 2 days!
I had to take these pictures last night. Yes I know my cat is big, but Rocco has a lot of hair too. Friday night when we ordered pizza, the pizza guy even noticed Rocco's fluff by stating, 'dude, that's a big cat'. He's just so dang cute.

Now that I'm addicted to adding pictures to the blog, here is Jonathan's latest addition to our apartment. He found these light thingies at Walgreens in our Christmas day adventure and placed them in needed areas. So now when I need to pee in the middle of the night, I don't have to turn on the big light. So smart he is.

2006-12-27T14:49:00.000-06:00

Top ten things I heart about Jonathan:

10. He calls me 'baby' or 'honey' even when he's very upset at me
9. He loves the fact that I whine like a 4 year old when I want him to cuddle with me
8. When he holds my hand, he makes sure my ring is straight and then kisses it
7. He calls me on the stupid stuff that girls do and it makes me laugh
6. He kisses my shoulder in the middle of the night even if I will never remember it
5. He will sit through a play and be perfectly content even when the only other straight male there is about 50, and won't gripe and says that he enjoys it and means it because he knows that I'M enjoying it
4. He loves my family and friends like he's known them forever
3. He loves technology and at heart, is a geek
2. When I am sick, he stays home and takes care of me by making me soup and making sure I take my medicine on time…even when I'm mean and grippy because I'm in pain
1. He looks up all of the ingredients of Glucosamine Chondroitin because he knows that I could give 2 shits about what is in it but that my stomach may think otherwise.

2006-12-27T11:36:00.000-06:00

This is the beach on James River in VA. Yes the sun looks purple and ghostly because this was taken with my neato Razor phone.

Here is my nugget, Brianna. My sister was worried that she would run to the water like it was a giant bathtub or something. I had more faith in her than that. It was freaking freezing and I knew she was a smart kid and knew that wet+cold air=not fun.

This is my favorite picture ever. Sara took this and it could not be more perfect.

Here's another pic of the beach. This is Jonathan but you wouldn't know that without me telling you. I was facing the sun so he appears as an unknown figure.

It only took me a few minutes....well, let's be honest, a few HOURS to figure out how to upload photos in the correct blog worthy format. It's okay to laugh because I am not a technological genius. I know what I need to know to get by and the rest is trial and error.
Anywho. Here are some pics from the VA vacation. It was fun, I want to move there.
Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas.

2006-12-15T14:14:00.000-06:00

I finally got pictures developed from September. I know I'm such a slacker but I just hate going to the store and being confined for a whole hour so I wind up dropping them off at the one hour with all of good and holy intentions to pick up the film in an hour but it winds up being a week later. Anywho.
The pictures were from our family trip to mini golf and the zoo before my sister Sara moved to Virginia with her hubby and my nugget Brianna. Even though it was just a few months ago, I remember how I felt that month. I was falling in love with Jonathan, I was saying goodbye to my sister and my best friend, I was swamped at work, the weather was very warm and my tan was gone.
This weekend Jonathan and I are leaving on a jet plane (literally, I checked the itinerary) and going to see my sister, her hubby and my nugget and I couldn't be more excited if I had just won a million dollars…okay maybe I could cause then I could definitely stay longer than 4 days and I could buy my own jet plane…….

2006-12-13T22:36:00.000-06:00

Tuesday I had issues. I swear I am the only person in American who can avoid the flu, sinus infections and the common cold, but if there is anyone within a 100 mile radius with the stomach flu, my body gets all excited like jo-jo the idiot circus boy and snags it.

I woke up at 4:30 am with a very unhappy rumbly in the tumbly. I began yacking...hardcore yacking. It was so disgusting that when the upchuck hit my tastebuds, I puked even harder from the taste. Lovely I know. This continued throughout the morning and at 8 am I woke Jonathan from his slumber and begged him to go to Kroger (or Krogers as Kimberly would say) with my last 5 bucks and get me some saltines and Sprite like super quick like a bunny. The day did not get much better. I ceased vomiting about 10 am. Robin came to check on me at lunch, exclaimed that it was hella hot in my house and that I looked like death. I love her honesty, what are friends for?? The thing is, I did feel like death and I'm sure I was rockin hot in my glasses, frizzy hair in a bun and Houston Nutt t-shirt. Jonathan called on his way home and asked what I needed. I cried out loud as hard as I could, "A peach baby, a ripe, peach...2 or 3". Of course I am not coherent and fail to realize that while it is in fact the middle of December and while in fact today's high in AR was 72, peaches are not in season. He asks how you tell if a peach is ripe and says that he will do his best. (Later I find out that he drug the produce guy at Wal-Mart all around trying to find me a peach-I heart that kid). He tried to call me and tell me this but my phone was dead.

He came home to me curled up in a ball crying in pain, explaining that there were no peaches but that he would leave and get me some icecream if I wanted that. I decline and ate some lucky charms instead.

Today I felt much better. I still feel like I've been beat with a crowbar but as I lay with my head in my honey's lap, enjoying our new TV, I ask him if he remembers what I wanted last night. He immediately says, "Icecream? Let's go". And he took me to Coldstone and won about a trillion extra brownie points.

2006-12-11T13:03:00.000-06:00

This weekend was fun. And by fun I mean I got a lot done and I didn’t feel super exhausted today. Friday night, after dinner and some other fun stuff, his parents call to say that our tv had arrived. Woopie.
I need to backtrack a little. His parents wanted to get us something we 'needed' for the apartment and Jonathan being the cutest nerd ever, suggested that we needed an HD flat screen. Yes I have seen these at Walmart and they are pretty, but seriously folks, I'd rather have the $1600 cash and just watch the 1980 tv that I own that requires special RC hookup and running the cable through the VCR.
I wasn't excited when Jonathan talked about how rockin the picture would be, or how much sweeter the sound quality would be or even when he said that he could hook up our laptop to the tv and THAT could be our screen. I simply was unimpressed by this modern wonder.
That is until he opened the box.
The hallelujah chorus played softly in the background and my face lit up like our non-existant Christmas tree. It was beautiful. It was black, hella shiny and more importantly, added 6 inches of walking space in the living room.
We flipped channels all night and oooeeed and aaaahhhed over all of them. We played part of a movie just so we could test out all the settings and sound modes.
I will never mock a man and his love for electronics again. Jonathan, I will forever trust that you will always be honest in telling your parents what we 'need' for our apartment.

2006-12-05T10:58:00.000-06:00

Sometimes things happen and they are out of our control. I know that is cliché, but it is more true than not.
Friday was jeans day. Not only was it jeans day, but also wear-a-jersey/shirt-and-support-your-favorite-team day. I was sporting my 2nd favorite pair of jeans, a Razorback shirt and some tennis shoes. I was very comfortable in my chosen attire until mid morning.
My co-worker Ryan and I were sitting in my cubical discussing a very important topic of something or another just like we always do on Fridays *cough. I turned in my chair towards my computer to look up something we were discussing. A pop occurred and immediately I knew what had happened. Ryan looked very perplexed with his crinkled face, politely asked me what the noise was in hopes I was not going to respond, 'I farted'. It was worse. I felt my chest and my suspicion was confirmed: the underwire in my bra had snapped in two. I share this news with Ryan, quite loudly in fact because I was pissed, and he turns bright red as Ryan tends to do when the situation becomes a little uncomfortable, laughs hysterically, and exits my cubical.
I spent the rest of my day thinking I was a little lopsided but with many reassuring comments of 'you can't even tell', I made it through. It also served as a fun story for the weekend.

2006-11-28T21:39:00.000-06:00

Last night Jonathan asked me if I missed the single life. I promptly said, 'no'. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was one, minor thing that I super missed....having the bed all to myself. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the ocassional cuddle and the bed is good for other things if you catch my drift, but as far as sleeping goes, I like to spread out and catch some serious z's with no one touching me or hogging the covers. After I confessed this to my fiance, he replied that he felt the exact same way. Huh, funny how it's the little things. I don't miss nights in bars and having to talk to a weird guy just cause he bought you a shot or hoping that the guy you are dating will realize that you really are the greatest thing to happen to him. It's nice to be with someone whom I don't mind steals the covers on a freaking DAILY BASIS or who throws his socks on the floor instead of in the laundry basket when removing them. I love knowing that I'm his and he's mine and no amount of wanting to sleep alone will ever overshadow that. He's my honeybear. (leave your name and number and I'll have some wine sent over with this cheese. ha ha).

2006-11-27T16:55:00.000-06:00

I really dig me some Thanksgiving. I do believe it is my favorite holiday. Christmas is too stressful with the buying of the gifts and the spending of the money and what not. Thanksgiving is a day where everyone, except those cooking, get to relax and enjoy the day and the festiveness of it all.
This year I went to Jonathan's grandma's house. There were about 20 people there, most of whom I had met so that lessened the stress of meeting future family members, and lots and lots of pecan pie. I kid you not, there were at least 12 pies in that house and the majority of them were pecan. You would have thought that a squirrel in the backyard gathered the nuts all year and placed them in a wicker basket on the backporch so that 8 pecan pies could be baked to perfection.
There were lots of other items to partake in. Coke salad, 7 layer salad, all kinds of beans and peas and potatoes. I decided early on that I was going to be a good little girl this year and not gorge myself and play the role of fatty fat kid at the holiday feasts. The problem with this is, even though you say you are going to get small portions-or as we in the south say, 'helpings'- you still are left with 15 piles of Thanksgiving goodness on your plate which we all know equals one large pile of indigestion and clogged arteries.
This year was different for me. I only sampled the things I really enjoy. I opted for the dressing (which contained chicken bits in it so no need for turkey), baked beans, hashbrown casserole, 7 layer salad and a roll. Of course I was questioned if I had 'tried' the sweet potatoes or grandma's famous mashed potatoes, but I sweetly declined saying that I was very full with my selected dishes.
I will forever abide by this rule. I can have greenbeans or corn whenever my flippin heart desires and I may even peel potatoes for some mashed 'tators, but dressing, baked beans and 7 layer salads, and 8 pecan pies- those my friends, only come along a few times a year.

2006-11-06T20:42:00.000-06:00

I love looking at junk. There is a place in Hot Springs called the Peddler's Mall where one can go and maybe find a roll of half used duct tape or an English book copyright 1917 (like I did this weekend). It basically is an old storage place where people with no teeth and a taste for country music pay $75 a month to sell their junk. I am a quick shopper. I don't like to look and touch every little item, but I do like to make sure that I've stepped into every open unit.
My mom and I left the men to look and headed on our way past the camo unit. We had been browsing for about 30 minutes when the need to poo hit me like an elbow at a concert. I told my mother that I needed to go RIGHT NOW and asked her to come with me. The restroom was surprising clean and I preceded to do my business. After I was finished, I reached for the toilet paper and found only an empty roll hanging from a handmade contraption resembling a holder of such but was really just a hanger twisted a bit. I shout to my mom in the next stall that I was in need of some squares and I am immediately thankful that I had asked her to come with me because we all know that I would have sat there till kingdom come, waiting on a family member to come find me and rescue me providing a few squares. So here is the point of my story, always have some kleenex or don't poo alone.

2006-10-22T20:04:00.000-06:00

My head hurts. Bad. Not fun...it's the kinda hurt where you wanna cry but you know that will make it hurt worse. It's a miserable feeling. Oh well. It could be worse. I could have just found out what douche bags serve as jurors and how they just gave in and are now responsible for the fate of my existance.
My friend Martin Heidgen- whom no one calls Martin except people who don't know him- was just convicted of murder. Wow. That's the first time I let that sink in. Murder. It's such an easy word to say but yet when you put it in association with someone whom you love and care about, it takes on a different meaning.
I met Marty totally by accident. We worked for the same company but in different departments. He was doing random training with different people all of the departments so when some crazy called into customer service and needed a translator, Marty would know the basic principles of insurance claims and reposession. I had not been with the company for very long when I was asked to show him what I do. I see him and he's cute and I smile and become thankful that I have a boyfriend because if I didn't, I would have to flirt a little because dang, I want to hang out with this guy. I show him what we do and some how we begin to talk. He borrows my coconut lotion. Odd, I think, seeing is how he's a guy and this flavor resembles that of a crispy chick fresh out of the tanning salon. Whatever. We chat for a good hour or so and I decide that this kid is pretty cool. He writes down his extention for me and suggests that we do lunch or break sometime. Throughout the next few days I found notes on my desk from him just saying hi. We begin to take breaks together. He'd call me or I'd call him and we'd go downstairs and chat. Not about anything of mucho importance but it was cool. He always ate a banana, or a breakfast burrito with salsa. He never kept his debit card receipts and that bugged me. We did have lunch once a week or so until he moved to NY. He liked the chicken pasta stuff. I was scared of the café food but that entree was actually tasty. Marty always saved me a bite. A few times, more than he'd probably care for me mentioning, he came to my house for a little manscaping. I decided that his eyebrows were crazy out of control and if he would just give me a moment or two, I would have him looking like a million bucks. After weeks of coaxing, he finally agreed. He followed me home one day after work, laid in my lap and let me pluck hair by hair out of his black eyebrows. I'm a little compulsive. I like makeovers and making people feel fresh and pretty. It's a curse I know but it's who I am. I talked Marty into letting me give him a mud mask. We wrapped a towel around his blue Polo shirt and used a headband to hold back his bushy hair and I applied the green goo to his face. He looked ridiculously funny laying in my lap and when a knock appeared at the door, he begged me not to answer it. Knowing that it was probably just my neighbor, I opened the door. He was mortified when she chuckled and managed to get out a 'hi'. We continued our little routine every week or so and I think I enjoyed it as much as Marty did. After his move, we talked every few weeks or so. He was happy, loved his job, making new friends. I was at the lake when I received the phone call from a mutual friend about the accident. I could not breathe. I wanted Marty to be okay and more importantly, I wanted the families of the little girl and of the limo driver to be okay and to not hate my friend. I was mad at Marty. He knew better. He knew not to drink and drive. He knew it was still a new city to him and that he didn't know his way around. He was smarter than that. I couldn't even cry. I sat there just praying and begging God to be with my friend and to comfort the families. And then I was calm. I knew that Marty was doing the exact same thing. I knew he was praying and begging God to forgive him and to comfort the families. I knew he felt horrible and that he felt like an idiot and that he didn't deserve to go on while knowing all the while that two others would not have that chance. That's just who he is.
Writing and receiving letters this whole time has been bittersweet. At first I didn't want to talk too much about what was going on in my life because I didn't want him to miss life or to make him feel bad. Then, my first letter was kinda like a mom scolding a child. He told me to not be sad and to expect nothing more than the same Marty that I've always known. That was kinda unexpected. Letters came about twice a month. Each one was as if we were having normal phone conversations. I cried over everyone thinking of how horrible he must feel but more so about the people that he hurt. I've read some nasty, hating articles and blogs but have held true to my knowledge of who Marty really is. But there has also been some good stuff. The day the jury's decision was read, the fate of my friend, he had just heard the most horrible news and what did he do? He turned, winked and flashed a smile to his mom. That's the real Marty. He's a good man. He made a mistake and I know the he is punishing himself each and every day, more so than anyone else could.

2006-10-06T15:32:00.000-06:00

I said goodbye to my sister a week ago. Not goodbye forever, just goodbye for now.
I remember when I left home and moved to Colorado. I recall looking at my room and my bathroom and the kitchen and knowing that the next time I returned, it would be a little different. The thing with Sara moving is that she totally is ready. She's a mom and a wife and she needs to be away from 'home' and build one of her own.
It was very difficult helping her clean and pack and be in the house that I spent a million weekends in, eating, watching movies, dyeing hair, and sitting in my designated blue chair thinking about the guy I was dating and wondering what he was doing.
The first time I went to that house, I was scared to death. It was out in the middle of no where and down a long dirt road. It was very cute and neat, not like a boy lived there at all. It was a few days before my sister was to get married. She had it decorated a little and I remember it all seemed very grown-up. I mean, she was about to be a wife and have a mortgage and I was living in a condo in CO with 3 other girls and going out every Thursday night. The first time she was 'wife' in that house was beautiful. Sara is younger than me and I had always seen her as the little girl that I used to make eat mud or moon dad. It was Christmas time and she had the house decorated very festive in holiday décor. She feel asleep on the couch and I remember looking at her and thinking, 'wow, she's a wife...and that's my little sister'. After I moved back, I spent pretty much every weekend there. It was a ritual to drive to Hot Springs on Friday night and crash with her and Jason. I slept on the couch a billion times. It was always cold in that house, the tempeture not the atmosphere, and it smelled like gardenia.
Being in the house for the last time was bittersweet. I knew that this move would be great for Sara and she actually handled leaving the house better than me. I didn't let it show, but as I was touching up the baseboards with paint, I was crying a little thinking about how someone else would build memories there and I would never be in this house again and it be my little sister's home. As we drove down the bumpy dirt road, I felt peace. I knew that Sara was going home.

2006-09-28T15:59:00.000-06:00

Not much interesting has happened since the whole preggers ordeal…which by the way is still going on. Some folks just won't leave me alone. A co worker sees a VHS tape on my desk and asks if that is the ultrasound. My boss writes 'Amanda preggers' on my white board.
I did realize on Monday that when crazy stuff happens to me, Robin is usually around. Take a phone call for instance on lunch break. I saw that I had two missed calls from different numbers back to back. I thought for a second that it might be one of those exs that you delete their number and then you remember that is retarded because what if one of them call and you accidentally answer? Anywho. This person left a message for me. I check my voicemail and it's Chris something from the freaking Arkansas FBI. He gives me the main office number and his desk number and tells me that "it's nothing serious".
Right. Now, I'm a law abiding citizen (minus the occassional speeding) and I immediately think that I have done something wrong. My head is spinning and in all of Robin's giddyness, she suggests that I call him back RIGHT NOW. I call the main number and an older woman answers the phone all prim and proper. I ask for Chris whomever and he answers.
Me: um, this is amanda bradley, you just left me a message.
C: oh yes, ms bradley. You must have been out of town when I called.
What? No, I'm just a normal cellular phone user who doesn't answer unknown numbers.
Me: um, actually I was at work. What can I help you with?
C: was ther ea man by the name of Shainhiemdk Blahblah that lived at your address?
Me: (trying to be all sweet and innocent and non guilty sounding even though I have no idea if he just sneezed or actually said a person's name). I'm not for sure. I do not see any mail for him in my mailbox. I've lived in this apartment for 6 months or so.
C: Well, yes ma'am, he gave your address as his own.
Lightbulb off in head
Me: OHHHHHHH!!! You mean has he lived with me??
C: Yes ma'am
Me: Oh, in that case, no.
C: that is what we figured, just wanted to check. Thanks for your time.
I go on about my day and hear no more from my friend Chris. My sister calls me that evening and I tell her the story. About 4.3 minutes after we hang up, my phone is ringing and it's my mother all freaked out that the FBI has called me. I tell her that it was nothing to worry about and she swears that it's identity theft or that the big scary boogieman is going to come get me.
Now, I know that I'm not a mom and have no right to poke fun at her reaction because I'm a little crazy and I know that I would probably be doing the same thing if I had a daughter getting weird FBI phone calls…and I love my mom. She's a great protector and can smell a scam a mile away. Anywho. Long story short, she wants the number to investigate, she finds out it's legit and thanks me for satisifying my 'paranoid mother'.

2006-09-20T20:35:00.000-06:00

I was in Atlanta, GA on a business trip and boy do I have stories to tell. I will let all of them alone for now but the most recent....
Wednesday night after class, we decided to go to this place called Tu Tu Tango. It was a suggestion from one of my programmers and he's a pretty cool guy so we figured this place would be cool too. We roll up (after the 1 hour and half drive through traffic) and got a spot in front. It was a neat little cafe like place with art on the wall and waiters with really big hair. They serve only appetizers and the food I might add was damn good.
After we had been there an hour or so the entertainment started. Men in weird attire were singing hits of the 80's while dancing around in being all crazy like. Then I notice that a lady with rather large hair has settled herself in a chair next to a black bench and is shuffling some cards. A sign is posted that she is a Tarro card reader. Now, I totally do not believe in this stuff but it's funny to see if these folks are all Ms. Cleo or not so I take a seat. She smiles and says hi and preceeds to pat my leg telling me that she sees a baby all around me.

What the????????

I begin to swat the air like a swarm of bees has just entered the cafe. I politely say,'um, sorry?'. She preceeds to tell me that she immediately senses that I am pregnant and asks me if I'm trying. I explain to her very sternly that I am certainly not trying and that I am not preggers. She tells me that she senses that I will be in the next 2 to 3 months and if this is unwanted I need to try another form of birth control.

We all had a good laugh but I got a little nervous. Me and my new friend Jaimie took a detour to Kroger and I got a test. It was positive.

Just kidding. It was positively crazy that I would let that scare me into borrowing Robin's debit card for $9.36 on a test.

Being back at work, I have gotten congrats from my boss and quite a few folks. Funny.

2006-09-15T18:33:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting here at the San Fransico Bread Company enjoying a chicken something or other panini and praying to the god of good hygiene that every bit of the green parsley thingies have gone down my throat and not adheard to every crevice of my teeth. I quite enjoy this place and the food even though this is not a good place for a first date due to the parsley bits. Jonathan and I were headed to El Porton but he asked what this was, saw the free Wi-Fi and me shouting, 'that place is yum' brought us here. I have to say I'm a little nervous eating and drinking this closely to a 15 inch flat screen and keyboard that is most definitly not mine. It also makes me hope that the person before me also prayed to the god of good hygiene and followed the whole rule of wash yo hands!
My first time here I was with the girls from work. Only one of the girls had been here before and she went on and on about their paninis. We are pulling into the parking lot and i see these weird letters on the window 'FREE WI-FI'. What the frick is this? I think and better yet; I say it aloud. Now, normally I am a visual learner but with weird words, I need some pronunciation. I'm immediately snickered at (mainly due to the fact that 2 of the 3 girls I'm with share the job of 'Web Administrator' at our company). When I am asked if I've ever heard of Wi-Fi, I laugh aloud and want to crawl into a hole. Oh well. Just like shit happens, so does stupidity.
I've had a bit of bad luck lately with my eyeballs. I say that lightly but it really is serious. About 2 months ago, I developed this blob on my eye that was quite uncomfortable. I made a trip to the eye dr, got some $40 drops and was sent on my way. This spot got a little better but it was still irrated a bit and I was convinced by several people to journey again to the eye dr. I made an appointment and went yesterday. He put these hella stingy eye drops in my eye and checked the pressure. He was concerned seeing is how my funk eye was at a 30 and normal pressure is 16 or 17. I'm pumping out what folks that have glaucoma have. He also checks my tear production by placing these little strips in my eye and having me sit there for 5 minutes. Again, normal production is 15, I was a 3. I'm quite the underacheiver. So what does this all mean? He gives me drops for the pressure and some high tech moisture drops, demands that I wear my glasses for the next 2 weeks and tells me that he and I are going to be BFF a while because I will be coming to see him 3 or 4 times in that span. Thank God for insurance. And I would like to point out that I ate all of my sandwich, chips and pickle and I totally want a piece of cake. : )

2006-09-11T15:31:00.000-06:00

When I was younger, I made a list of all the things I wanted to do before I died or just when I got older. I found my list the other night. I think I was 16 when I wrote it. This is how it went and what I've done about it. And these are in no particular order.
1. Have blonde hair
2. Have black hair
3. Have long nails that are my own
4. Go to Italy, Paris
5. Talk to Amy again
6. Have sex
7. Go to Alaska
8. Go to Hawaii
9. To date a tattooed, pierced boy
10. To pierce my tounge
11. To have a tattoo
12. To move away to a place where I don't know anyone
13. To be a makeup artist
14. To fall in love
15. To bungee jump
16. To have a kid
17. Learn to play the piano
18. Learn to play the guitar
19. To sing on stage in front of a crowd…and church doesn't count
20. To have pretty teeth
21. To be thinner
22. To dance in the rain naked
23. To attend a professional game from every major sport
24. To graduate college and be something I love
25. To ride on an airplane at least once a year when I'm older
26. To kiss Shelby Deatheridge again
27. To go to prom in a limo
28. To live by myself
29. To live in an apartment with Lesly
30. To run a marathon
31. To learn how to surf
32. To have something published
33. To have art hanging in a gallery
34. To live in a house with stairs
35. To buy a new car for my parents

And the moment of truth..........

1. Check……..it was a nice season
2 . Check…….it was a scary season
3. Check……..no longer b/c Walgreens makes some pretty ones
4. Non Check..but it will happen!
5. Non Check..and I'm okay with that
6. Check……..but 1 is better than 7.
7. Check……..Sophomore year of college
8. Check……..Not once but TWICE and can stay for free! Thanks Stries!
9. Check……..not as exciting as I'd hoped
10. Check……..didn't hurt to get it done, but killer for the next week. No longer have it
11. Check……..4 to be exact
12. Check……..kinda, moved to Colorado and only knew 3 peeps
13. Check……..freelance for Chanel and for Elizabeth Arden
14. Check……..thanks Jonathan : )
15. Non Check..and this one really surprises me!
16. Non Check..one day soon though
17. Non Check..took lessons at age 10 but never again
18. Non Check..regret this one.
19. Non Check..regret this one too!
20. Check………and 4 grand later
21. Check………kinda, could be a lot more!
22. Non Check…rain yes, nudity, no
23. Check……….living in Colorado really paid off!!
24. Check……….even though I don't use my degree, I heart my job!
25. Check……….I have done this ever since I was a sophomore in college
26. Non Check….and kinda sad about this one in that puppy dog kinda crush way
27. Non Check….and that was cool. We rocked the black Lexus!
28. Check……….and it was well needed
29. Non Check….although she did stay a month when I lived in Colorado…does that count?
30. Non Check….but this is on the list
31. Non Check….how sad?? And I've been to Hawaii twice!!!
32. Check……….numerous journalism classes and even a children's book!
33. Non Check….I did illustrate a children's book once though
34. Check……….the good ole condo in Colorado!
35. Non Check….I just got MY first car payment 3 years ago!

2006-09-06T10:40:00.000-06:00

I was in a weird mood yesterday. First of all, my head was pounding and it was all my fault. For three weeks now I've been strictly following my low carb diet. I cheat once a week and that is usually enough to make me good till next week. This weekend, I was not so good. It started w/ a cookout at Jonathan's brother and sister in law's house. We were having burgers and hot dogs and fries (which I do not have a problem resisting) and cheesedip (a little devil of temptation, but totally can be done.) Jonathan and I are responsible for bringing chips and beverages. We roll to the gas station and he picks out Doritos. I have an issue with Doritos because we were not allowed to have chips as kids and if we were, it was the cheap ones like Kroger potato chips or some pretzels so Doritos at a friends house was like finding a roll of quarters. Anywho. We get to their house which p.s. is freaking huge and fun and full of kids. One of the cute munchkins wants a Dorito. I open the bag and place one in his chubby hand. Then I lick my fingers. Yum. That was good. Maybe I can have one…or 5 or 25. And you know the rest. (seriously, I really only did have 4 or 5). Me and my soon to be sister in law go into the kitchen and begin preparing the food. She lays out the fries, seasons the meat, and cuts up cheese for cheesedip. The cheese she places in a bowl, along with the Rotel. She then pulls a box out of the cabinet and begins dumping the contents on in the bowl of processed cheese and Rotel. It's brown and weird and looks a little like Dominos' Brown Sugar. I try to act all cool like everyone and their grandmother does this. Apparently I was not good at hiding my concern. She rolls her eyes and says, 'I know you think I'm crazy putting brown sugar in cheesedip, but let me tell you, it's excellent'. I say that I have no judgements and that she should proceed. In my head I'm thinking sugar: good, cheesedip: good.... so how could this go wrong?
After the 3 minute ding on the microwave, I pick up the spoon and begin to stir. It smells like heaven. I can't wait to taste it but the Nice n Cheesy is still not completely melted and fat kid wants the full effect of the one and only bite. After a few more minutes in the microwave, the process is complete. I pick up the Tostido Scoop and insert it into the bowl. I take the bite. I try to hold my excitement. This is seriously the best cheesedip I have EVER tasted. It is like a party in my mouth and I'm the only one invited. I take another chip, and another, and then I have to go outside. I think of an excuse to come in and snag another bite. Oh my gosh this must be what it's like to be a crack addict. I can't stop. It's the bestest thing ever. Jonathan is coming inside, and my excitement cannot be contained. I tell him to try it. He loves it. The next day, I make it for my mom and sister. They love it. It's crack I say, CRACK! Then, today as I write this, I realize how crazy I am to rant and rave about cheesedip when douche bags like Bush are running our country and I am relatively intelligent and should just write about something more brilliant. Sometimes cheesedip is just more fun.

2006-08-30T12:54:00.000-06:00

I pay 13 bucks a month for my cable. I only get 13 channels and one of those is the Spanish channel and since I don't hablo espanol, it's useless to me. So when Jonathan and I got together, we decided that we would do Netflix since it was the summer, all the shows are reruns and we both like movies and let's be honest, paying 15 bucks to go see a flix that maybe crab really sucks, so Netflix seemed like a good idea. My sister Sara has this, people at work have it, everyone is loving the Netflix. I signed up for the 2 at a time, unlimited for $14.99 and off I went to my queue. I picked out some movies that I had seen but I knew Jonathan hadn't and that were excellent (ie, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang) and a few series like Prison Break and Weeds. I was so excited to get the first two and I was told through an automated email from Netflix that my first 2 movies would be in my mailbox in about 2 days. On day 2, I opened my mailbox and there they were and we watched one that night. The next day I returned it and 2 days later I had an email saying that my next pick should be in my mailbox the following day. It was. This is the coolest thing ever. I was so excited and pleased that it was like Christmas with my new movies rolling in. This went on for about 3 weeks, we were prompt to send them back, Netflix was prompt in sending more. Then, last week, we got 2 movies, we watched 2 movies, I returned 2 movies. A few days went by with no email. Another few days went by with no email. We were pissed. Jonathan decided to 'report a shipping problem'. This included a few questions and then Netflix getting an email stating that they had better send us the movies or else. (not really, I think it was an automated email). This was done on Saturday. Monday I had two emails saying that they had received both movies that I had turned in a week ago. So, what have I learned, Netflix is good as long as you aren't quick like a bunny with the returning…but I haven't learned my lesson. Watched UFC last night, turned it in today. Watch out Netflix or you'll get another email……..

2006-08-25T15:52:00.000-06:00

I never get sick, unless it's the stomach flu and then my body's on that like a fat kid on a buffet. I haven't been to the doctor since the 8th grade when I graced Dr King's office with my weird growth. I had staph. It was gross. I was in Hawaii when I found out it was staph and the poor girls at the pharmacy were afraid to get to close to me because my prescription was 1000mg of something that kills gross living stuff. Large amounts of green and white toothpaste like puss came out of it and it wouldn't stop flowing. I know that this is gross but at the same time, it was kinda cool. Granted, I had to remain seated the whole time for fear that I would pass out but after it was all out, I felt like a million bucks. Anywho.
So when I had to have a TB test for the nursery I work at on Monday, I obviously assumed that since my luck with the exotic diseases that no one has, I would have TB. I had no idea what TB was and some co workers claimed that I would be coughing up blood if I had it. I coughed in my hand, no blood. I'm good and figured I was safe. I make an appointment with the nurse and she injects this 'test' under a patch of skin on my arm. It doesn't hurt, it just looks like a weird mosquito bite. It goes down by the time that lunch is over and all is well. On Wednesday when I am suppose to have my test read, I am chatting with some co workers and I show the spot where my TB test was given. It is red and has a bit of a bump. Robin, who has had a TB test, explains that her's was not red and not raised. Great. I have TB.
I roll into the nurses office at 11:30 sharp, anxious to hear my fate. She lifts my sleeve and says that I'm good. She says that a normal TB test will show a raised place (which I have) and will be red (which it is). I ask her if she is seeing what I'm seeing. She laughs the polite laugh that people give when you've just made them feel like an idiot. The nurse explains that mine is just skin irratation. 'Okay' I say and I realize that it's actually me who's the idiot and I'm on my merry little way TB free.
I get back to work and my 2 of my 3 most favorite co workers Robin and Nancy are conversing in Robin's office. They ask me how it goes and I begin my dramatic performance.
N&R: Hey! Wanna get some lunch?
Me: Naw, I'm just gonna eat my salad at my desk
N: Well can we join you?
Me: Rock on
R: So how was your TB test?
Me: (in a very dramatic voice) Yeah, I have TB. I have TB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
N&R: Shut up!!! No you don't.
Me: I'm serious! Me,who never gets colds but gets freaking staph and TB
R: You're such a liar!!!! You would be coughing up blood!!!
Me: Apparently I'm in the beginning stages of it and that comes later on. That's why the test was only a "little" positive according to the nurse.
N&R: Shut up, you are full of it.
Me: I'm not kidding. I'm freaking out. I had to have a shot in my ass, and they gave me a freaking $80 prescription that I'll um, pretty much have to take for the rest of my life.
Now, by this time I can tell that they are just on the vurge of believing me so I keep going
N: (Backing up a bit) Well if you have TB aren't you contagious?
Me: No, they gave me the shot for today and as long as I take my antibotics I'm good. (word vomit coming out of my ass)
R: So what are they going to do? Oh my gosh, I can't believe you have TB.
Me: I know, me either. It's crazy. But really, I so don't have it.
N&R: You suck!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The best part is that Ryan, my 3rd fav co worker, comes to my desk the next day and sits down with a very concerned look on his face. I ask him what's wrong and he asks me if I have TB. I tell him no, that I was joking around with Nancy and Robin and they believed me. He says very relieved because he hadn't heard the 'just kidding' part. I'm laughing about this later making fun of Ryan and what a douche he is for believing that I really had the TB. He then starts laughing AT ME revealing that he had heard the 'just kidding' part but that he wanted to be a punk and make me believe that he had spent a day thinking I had the nasty funk TB. Nice.

2006-08-23T13:24:00.000-06:00

I rear-ended the guy in front of me today. It was a scratch, very, very minor damage. It was his fault kinda because he has no balls. We live on a BUSY intersection and some mornings at 8 you just gotta jump out there in front of traffic and gun it with all you got. Now, he drives a freaking 2006 Honda so I know that baby's got some get up in it. (Right Robin? : ) ha ha) Anywho. So here we are and it's 8:00 am and traffic isn't too bad and I'm sitting behind him patiently waiting for him to go. And he guns it and I gun it and he stops and I stop because I've hit him. Now, at first I'm just praying that maybe he didn’t notice. Maybe he just thought that he farted loudly or that God was just giving him a shove because God realized that the driver of this vehicle has no balls and needs to go.
He gets out of the car, I say I'm sorry, I back my Xterra up off him and we survey the damage. At this point I really don't care about my vehicle because it's not a concern of mine if I have a scratch or if some paint is missing. It adds character. He on the other hand says with a very heavy Chinese accent that he just got this car. Of course he did because that is my luck. My insides want to yell at him for being a douche and not going but I don't want to hurt this guy's feelings. Now, I've only been in one wreck where the cops were called and I wasn't the one doing the calling so I wasn't sure how all of this works. He obviously was not just going to let me write him a check and us be on our merry little ways. I call 911. It rings 4 times. The lady answers and I tell her what has happened and she asked if I would just like to make a report over the phone or if I would like a police officer to come out to the scene. Huuummmm, I'm going with no cop but I'll ask my new friend. He wants a cop. Of course he does. I again want to argue but I don't because I hit him and it's kinda his call, plus, I don't want to hurt his feelings because he's about to turn on the waterworks because I've just scratched up his new toy. I call Jonathan and explain what happens. He comes there and is asking me why we are still blocking the exit. I say that my new friend refuses to move. 3 people ask this guy to move, finally he is told to do so and it happens. I call mom. She says to take pictures. I have a camera and I hop out of my truck in the rain and I'm taking pictures of this. Me doing this causes my new friend and his friend who came for moral support to begin cussing me in their native tounge. Oh well, I've got bills and I do not need someone trying to say that something happened that didn’t. I tell Jonathan to go to work, that I will be fine. About 30 minutes later the cop comes and I apologize a million times that he had to come out here in the rain for a scratch and some dirt (which has now washed off). He says it's no big deal and that he doesn't write the tickets because it's private property. I call to tell Jonathan this and he's on his way back because he felt bad that he left so now I've made him late for work. Yippy. My new friend gets in the car with me and we exchange info. He tells me that of course he's going to need a rental. I tell him no because he works by me, I'll drive his ass around. He gives me this weird look like "lady you already hit my car, how do I know whether or not you're going to slice my throat". Jonathan kisses me and tells me that he loves me and I'm looking kinda sad clown. He tells me to shake it off and to not let it bother me. I do exactly this. I get to work, gripe for a minute and then I'm done.
My new friend has called me twice. I hadn't even called my insurance company yet. I call and talk to my claims rep Jason who is very nice and we crack a few jokes even because I mention the fact that my new friend is a douche and wouldn't go. He chuckled and said that everyone has done that. My new friend calls for the 3rd time, even thought I told him I would call him and I feel bad again because my he has taken the day off from work to deal with his car business and here's me, continuing with work, going to meetings, lunching with my friends, laughing, having a good time and he's stuck in a body shop with Mac the mechanic who is WAY over pricing everything because we all know insurance is going to cover it….but then I think, oh well, you SHOULD OF GONE!!!!

2006-08-21T15:05:00.000-06:00

I played mom this weekend. My friend Belinda has an almost 3 year old, Jas, and she needed a sitter for Sunday but since I was going out of town on Saturday, I told B I would just take Jas with me. At 3 pm sharp I was loaded into the Xterra with a kid in the back. She was a little upset leaving her mom but she was cool a few miles down the road. She's at the age where you really can't hold a conversation with her other than, 'you need to go potty?' or 'do you want some juice?' but she likes to sing and that makes me laugh. For the first half of the trip, it was cool. I could see myself doing this, toating a kid around, driving down the road, singing weird kid songs together. We get to my parents house and she immediately begins playing with my niece Brianna. They are running around acting like looney tunes and screaming and such. All of this noise is giving me a bit of a headache. The fam (which consisted of me, mom, dad, sister Sara, Brianna and Jonathan) decide that a nice meal at the Hamburger Barn is in order. Here comes the fun part: packing up the kids. Jas needs her passy and her weird punk naked Barbie and her juice and I have to move her car seat in the 107 degree temperature from my truck to my sister's mini van. This is not an easy task but all is well. Jonathan decides that he will drive because no cigerattes can be had in the car with a child. Jonathan and I talk about life and us and marriage and kids the whole way down. By this time, I can't wait to get Jas out of my sister's van and play mom again. After Jonathan telling Jas that he refuses to carry her if she brings naked punk Barbie in, she settles on an off colored baby of Brianna's to tote along. Entering the restaurant, I am greeted by the hostess, I'm asked if I would like a booster or a highchair. Hell if I know, a booster? Sara agrees and off we go. I sit Jas in this contraption and she flips open the menu like she's been here 100 times and knows exactly what she wants.
Me: 'Jas, are you hungry?'
Jas: Crazy head nod in the motion of yes
Me: 'Do you want chicken strips?'
Jas: head nod again
Me: 'Do you want a hotdog?'
Jas: head nod again
Me: 'Um, hotdog or chicken?'
Jas: 'Hotdog'.
We have a winner folks. I see that they only have hotdog nuggets on the menu and I figure it's bad enough that against my better judgement I'm allowing this child to eat weird meat bits but to subject her to 'nuggets' is a little off.
While all of this deciding for Jas is going on (thank God this fat kid knew what she wanted already), Jonathan has eyed an appetizer and a 14 oz steak. I agree that he can have both because momma got a nice paycheck from the makeup counter and we continue our meal and it is yum. The bill comes and it's $44.00. To me, that's a lot. And we want 2 kids, we are looking at $50 every time we go to dinner. Wow. After paying, Jonathan grabs Jas and carries her to the car and later tells me that he loved carring her around because she's cute and he's sure that people though she was his. I smile. Yup, this is the future father of my children being all cutelike. Anywho, I brought no crackers so we are done with that cheese. : )
My best friend Lesly calls me on the way into town and says that she wants to take me and Jonathan out for a drink. I tell her that we are playing parents and that is cool if we don't stay out too late. She agrees and off we go again. I get outside and Jonathan has put her car seat in the back of his jeep and it is quite possibly the cutest thing ever. We are heading to the restaurant to meet Lesly and Jonathan does a u turn to McD's to get Jas some icecream because he asked her if she wanted some and of course she says yes. Mind you, it's going on 9:30 and I good and well know that this icecream is going to make her a circus clown but I don't argue. He cares her into the restaurant and she winds up falling asleep in my lap. It's cute.
The next morning Jas is up at 6:30. I am liking the fact that she really can't go anywhere because (a) she's in the pack and play crib thingie and (b) the door is shut and would be hard for her to open. My sister is not so kind. She picks Jas up and allows her to be her usual self. I go back to sleep. Sara then wakes me and tells me that I have to 'get up and watch the kids' because she needs a shower. I walk into the kitchen and Jas and Brianna are eating breakfast. I then realize that this mom stuff, not so fun when it comes to getting up before the sun and having to make wee breakfasts and them being loud. I dress Jas and off she goes with my parents for Sunday School. Jonathan is still asleep and I make his breakfast and go wake him.
Jon: 'Oh you're up babe?'
Me: 'um yeah, been up since 6:30!!!'
Jon: 'Why?'
Me: 'that's what kids do'
Jonathan has already asked where Jas is and is kinda sad that she's not with us. He says he may not be able to wait 3 years for kids. My heart jumps a bit. That's scary. No sleep, always having to be careful and not stay out and no sleep and taking care of the little one and no sleep. Wow, is this cool?
After church, Jonathan takes my hand and we preceed to the nursery to pick up Jas. Shes playing with the other kids and she doesn't see us walk up to the door. I say her name, her head pops up from the coloring sheet and her eyes light up. She runs towards us with all her might and leaps into my arms. Jonathan says 'come here Jas', she immediately goes to him and I realize, yup, I do want this. And I didn't even care when I'm handed a Wal-Mart bag housed with pee filled Strawberry Shortcake panties.

2006-08-18T10:30:00.000-06:00

There are 3 little words in the English language that when put together can make you feel like a million bucks, make you cry, make you laugh, scare the hell out of you or as George on Seinfeld shared, make a dog lick himself. They are "I love you".
The first time I heard these words from the opposite sex, I was in 9th grade. My boyfriend's name was Jason and he was a hottie. I mean the star football player, blonde hair, blue eyes, nice body, he was it on a stick. We were sitting outside after youth group on a Wednesday night and it was cold outside and I of course was wearing his lettermen's jacket because we were cheesy freshman. We were talking about something non important, and he looked at me and told me that he loved me. Now, I was only 16 at the time but I knew about love. I knew that you shouldn't say it unless you mean it and the depth of it was that you would truly die for that person. While Jason was cute, I don't think that I would jump all Superman style in front of a bullet if it was hurling towards him. So, for a moment I paused and said the most polite response I could think of. I told the boy "thank you". This of course shocked him a bit. He then preceded to ask me if I was going to say it back. I simply said no. Jason and I dated off and on through high school and not once did he say it again and not once did I want to say "thank you" so it was all good.
The second and third time were a little different for me. I had been dating this guy for all of a month and I said it to him. I got no response. Not a shocked look, not a dog lick, nada. It was okay though because I knew that he did and eventually he would tell me. That was the first time that I had said it to a boyfriend and no, he never said it back. It's cool though because we are friends now and I realize that it really wasn't love. It was just a like.
The third time I said it, I had been with this guy for about 6 months. He didn't say it back right at the moment but he did about a month later. We only said it a few times in our relationship and that was cool. When we said goodbye and ended things, we repeated the phrase to each other and both truly meant it but knew it wasn't meant to be. I hope he's well and that he's found happiness.
All of this blah blah blah lead up to Wednesday night. I was babysitting the kids at the church and I had snagged Jonathan some banana pudding (this lady at church makes some wanna slap your momma in the head good pudding) and I texted him saying that I had a surprise to bring him. He wants to know what it is, I decline stating that it's a surprise. He then texts asking if it was a 'blow up doll'. I reply with 'no, it's banana pudding but way to ruin your surprise for this weekend'. I waited for a response but got nothing so I continued wrestling with the 9 kids Robin and I were watching. About an hour later my phone rang, just once. I opened my phone and my missed calls revealed that Jonathan had called. I push the green button and the phone rings a few times.
J: hey
Me: hey, did you need something?
J: uuuhhhh, no
Me: well then why did you just call and then hang up?
J: um, I don't know, uh nevermind
Me: okay well bye then (and yes I say this a little disgusted)
J: bye? That's all you have to say is bye?
Okay, by this time I'm thinking the boy has taken something. He's acting very strange like but I just ignore it and he tells me that he got all of the classes that he wanted and we end the conversation with a 'see ya when I get home' thing.
About an hour and a half later, I arrive at my apartment and he's in the bedroom looking very pitful in the corner. I immediately ask him what's wrong because he looks like he's just lost his best friend. He proclaims that nothing is wrong and he kinda brushes past me. I am taken a bit by surprise because normally I'm greated with a 'hey baby' followed by a hug and a kiss. I again ask what is wrong. He looks at me with these sad puppy eyes and says that he figured I would be mad at him. Mad? Why on earth would I be mad? I scan the apartment. My furniture was in tack, there was no weird poop stains on the floor and my cat's throat is not slit. I ask Jonathan his reasoning for this thinking. He states that it was because of the text message. I am puzzled now…we were joking around I thought. Woa, lightbulb off in head.
J: what was the last message you got?
Me: the one about the blow up doll
J: (falls on bed, covering face, very dramatic) oh my gosh!!!!!
Me: what babe what?
J: I sent you 3 texts after that
Me: I didn't get them. What did they say?
J: (opens phone) push okay, back, up, okay, back, up, okay, back, up
I look down at his phone and I see what the first text reveals: "I love you". I almost faint. The next is "okay, no response". The third is "okay, I must have really freaked you out".
Ah huh, that's right. The man that I'm crazy about and is crazy about me spend 2 and 1/2 hours worring that a. I didn't love him back, b. he scared the piss out of me and c. that his words changed everything.
The boy can't even look at me. It's the cutest thing ever. He is being nerotic and all girlie like rambling on about how that was the first thing that came into his head because my response to the blow up doll text was perfect and that he didn't want it to ruin anything and he knows that we are headed towards marriage and kids but he didn't want me to feel pressured and that it demanded a response and on and on and on. Then after the completion of word vomit and me smiling at him like a goofy kid, he stops himself and says, 'I sound like you'. I laugh and we kiss and I say that I love him too.
While it wasn't all roses and beautiful music, to me, it was perfect.

2006-08-17T13:46:00.000-06:00

I'm on day 3 of the diet. I hate diets. I wish that I was one of those girls who could eat what they wanted and never work out and never gain weight. I knew a girl like this in college. Her name was Haley and why you wanted to hate her for the fact of her ding dong and mac and cheese eatings, she had the best heart in the world. I remember asking her if she ever worked out to keep her perfect bod. She replies very sarcastically, 'the only exercise I ever get is going up and down stairs to class'.
I'm not an unhealthy eater by any means and nor do I think I would be if I could. I wouldn't be that kid always at Baskin Robbins or the one scrapping quarters up for 3 double cheeseburgers. I would just like to not have to think about everything I put in my mouth and whether or not it is going straight to my hips. I was even the loser at a fun party tasting the 'fun' lotions and asking how many carbs each contained.
Since January, I have lost about 45 lbs. Good for me. I have to keep reminding myself that. It's funny what love and happiness does to you though. I'm the type of person to not eat and just cry away the calories if I'm sad but to not give a rats ass about the 3000 calorie meal consumption if I'm happy. Since I tend to be happy more of the time than sad, it's all down hill.
So last week when I put on a pair of pants that 2 months ago hung loosely but now fit ever so snug, I decided that happy or not, I can't be putting on weight. Jonathan was gripping about his belly (which I happen to love) and we decided that Monday would be the day we would start our diet. Sunday night we went to IHOP and ordered 2 country breakfasts and chowed down. I then realized that Monday was b-day dinner night for my niece Lily and that diet day would have to be on Tuesday. It is now Thursday, and I have not cheated one time. You may not think that this is a big deal seeing is how it's only been 3 days but let me assure you that every time I exit my office, I'm faced with temptation. I never know if it's going to be cookies or donuts or bite Snickers, but it's there, every day looking at me, saying 'eat me' like the damn cookie monster or something and not to mention the left over wedding cake that melted in your mouth with the strawberry icing or the fact that there are posters up everywhere for the icecream social at work and my programmer Chris walking into my office with a big bowl of goodness topped with whipped cream and me yelling, "get out of my cube!!!" at the top of my lungs. Anywho. I'm not the bitter fat kid I swear.
So I'm feeling down and depressed because my pants do not allow me to breath and I'm frustrated picking out clothes. I decide on an outfit and I'm rushing around trying to get ready. Jonathan is still asleep and I go to wake him up and with his sleepy eyes he looks at me and says, 'Wow'. I ask what in the world he is talking about and he replies with, 'You're absolutely beautiful". It's at this moment I realize that I'm being an idiot and I should just have a brownie…and some chips…and….

2006-08-14T13:52:00.000-06:00

Saturday night Jonathan and I had dinner with his parents. It was a lovely meal at a local restaurant named Cheers. No, it was not a bar really where everyone knows your name, it’s a quaint little restaurant that serves some rockin sandwiches and such. I swear, the sauces this place has, yummmmmmy. Anywho. After dinner, Jonathan's mom suggests that we all watch a movie and she wants something suspenseful. Jonathan and I head to the movie store where we view the new releases. Now, when it comes to watching movies with the parentals, I like to stick to safe ones and by that I mean either (a) one I have seen before so I know what the 'content' is or (b) something G or PG. I cannot tell you how many times I've been watching a movie and BAM, out of no where a boob pops out or all of the sudden folks are going at it like teenagers on prom night.
My first experience with seeing a sex scene with a parental figure was with my mom. To this day, I cannot recall what movie it was but I do know that I was in college-well beyond the years of knowing that 1+1 can equal some hanky panky. So mom and I are setting there at the Behind the Mall Cinema and I can feel it building, they are kissing, hands are roaming and oops, there goes the shirt, oh and they are on the bed and holy cow, yeah, they are poking. As explained before, I tend to crack jokes when I'm uncomfortable. I lean to my mom and began a conversation while these young people are getting down to business.
Me: (whispering) "Mom?"
Mom: "Yeah?"
Me: "What are they doing?"
Mom: (not whispering) "Oh Amanda Kay!!! You know what they are doing."
Now, my mom is not an idiot. She knew very well that I knew what they were doing but she could sense that it bothered me that I knew that she knew I knew what they were doing.
This incident was repeated last Christmas when my brother in law, Jason and I went to rent movies on Christmas day. I had seen the previews for 'High Tension' and thought that it looked kinda Texas Chainsaw-ish so we rented it. Again, no warning, a tape is popped in a Walkman, headphones placed on ears, the main character lays on the bed and slowly begins going downstairs. This girl is masterbating ever so happily and my mother is sitting right beside me. The winner of all of this is that the guy who did all of the putting together of this movie, thought it funny that he switch scenes back and forth from the masterbating and then to a relevant part of the film. Here's Jason fumbling with the remote and me yelling "fastforward" as loud as I can but he keeps having to rewind because we are missing important parts. You get my point I'm sure.
So, as Jonathan and I are scanning the isles of the movie store looking for something suspensful and boob free, I stick to ones I've seen. I suggest 'Red Eye', suspensful and no naked folks. He says cool. Then, out of no where, weird movie store manager comes over and begins talking to us about what is good and what we should get. He chooses a couple and 'Red Eye' is one of them. Again, going with the safe bet of no boobs, I suggest this again. Then, movie store manager starts talking about how great 'Munich' is. Based on a true story of the killing at the Olympics in 1972, has cutie dude that played the Incredible Hulk, looks safe, okay lets get this one, and off we go with the movie.
The movie begins and its bloody and pretty acurate so we are all enjoying it. The main character (hottie Incredible Hulk) has a wife who is about 7 months pregnant and he has been asked to lead the group that is going to seek revenge on the killers of the Olympians. Well, I guess that Spielberg was trying to portray the humanity of the group because 30 minutes into the movie, he is humping and a pumping with his pregnant wife. I don't feel so bad about this scene because 1) they are married so it's allowed and 2) they are both clothed with the sheet ever so slightly placed to cover the unmentionables. Okay, made it past that one. Next, a chick is hitting on him in the bar and blah blah blah and I'm hoping that he's going to be a good guy and not cheat and he doesn't. Okay good, close call. A few scenes later, Hottie Hulk's co worker is found on the bed all nudity patooty with some shadows in all the right places but let's be honest, we all know where each other's a looking. Next, the chickie doing all the hitting on the married man begans to undress and out pop boobies (I admit, they were nice and I could deal with Jonathan seeing them, but not his parents) and then she falls into a chair wearing nothing but 3 bullet wounds and an open robe. That's right, full frontal. Here is the moment when Jonathan shouts out 'cooter hair'. I wanted to die but his mom laughed. Last but not least, Incredible Hulk man is home and in bed with the wife. You would think that it would be a sweet 'love making' scene but oh no, he is giving it all he's got. Jonathan is laying in my lap on the couch and he sits up and just looks at me for the longest time, not saying a word. Finally after about an hour of this scene, his dad says, 'poor girl' and I want to die again. All I can do now is just pray that this movie is ending and there will be no more talk of the boobies and the horizontal tango.
We get in the car to leave and I ask Jonathan why the cute looking at me during that scene. He replies with a chuckle, "I just get so embarrassed watching scenes like that with my parents." Yeah, me too.

2006-08-11T12:52:00.000-06:00

I worked with one of the most beautiful girls that I have ever seen in my entire life at a makeup counter after college. She was from Romania with this beautiful long hair, thin body and huge boobs. She was perfect. Anywho. We became friends and started eating together at lunch. One day I was watching her chew her food-because even this was beautiful-and I noticed that she had a beautiful set of chompers. She reveals to me very secretivly that she has veneers on her top 8 teeth. Right then and there I decided that I too must have this perfect set of teeth. She precedes to tell me that it's only a meer $675 a tooth. Now, granted this was 6 years ago but still, that's hella expensive so I can only image what they are now. We get back to the counter and I call her dentist right away and schedule an appointment for the following week. It is a free consultation so what the heck?
A week later I drive the 30 minutes to his office and patiently wait for my consultation. I've done the math in my head (not really, it was on a calculator) and I've decided that I do not want to have more than 4 done because I don't need more than that and the total is $2700 plus tax and bleaching and anything else that the magic tooth dr wants to throw in.
I am led into this room and shown about 1000 pictures of folks with some nasty ass teeth before and then a Courtney Cox smile afterwards. I'm sold. I don't care if I have to pay on these forever, I'm getting a new smile. I ask the receptionist/picture showing lady named Nancy if I can do 4 teeth.
Nancy: "Ooooo, he normally does 6 to 8"
Me: "um, well, don't really want to do anymore than that" (because I make $9 an hour and drive an 88 truck)
Nancy: "we will just have to ask him"
Enter hottie dentist
Hottie: "hello amanda, lets see what we have here….(inspects teeth)….yeah, lets do 4" (and I piss myself) and let's get you started on the bleaching trays as well.
Rock on. So to make a long story short, it required 8 shots, a few hours worth of drilling, trying to answer questions without drooling all over yourself and one sore mouth. Hottie dentist gave me my 'temporary' teeth which were a little like those fake teeth that you wear for halloween and told me not to bite into anything for a month and then I could come back and get my 'real' ones. Exactly a month later, I was back in the chair and staring and my new teeth…in a velvet box. They were beautiful. Hottie put them on with tender loving care and off I went owing a little more than $3000 for this new me.
This obsession with teeth progressed from here. I would only use an electric toothbrush and I religiously flossed and brushed 2 times a day and also bleached my teeth for 4 hours every 6 months. To this day, I cannot even date anyone with bad teeth. It is the first thing that I look at and I know it sounds extremely shallow, but I will end the conversation for fear that my staring at a snaggle tooth will make me seem a little strange.

2006-08-08T15:06:00.000-06:00

I worked in the cosmetic industry for 3 years until I got my 'grown up' job. To this day, I am constantly trying new things on myself and others…whether it be a new hair color or a new cut or maybe just some different lip gloss, I am always changing. In December, my best friend Belinda asked me if I would come to work at a counter at the local mall during Christmas. I excepted and I continue my dip into vanity once a month. It keeps me in stock with free makeup and skin care and my grueling 3 hour shift is worth it. Last night I was working and I looked a mess. Like I've explained before, it's hot and us fat folks tend to melt. My friend Arnone was standing behind the counter watching me walk up. At first she was excited to see me because she was hungry and I had food in hand for her. She snatched the polish sausage still warm in the plastic container and begin to stuff her face. I walked to the other side of the counter and looked in the mirror. Lord help us all. How in the world was I suppose to sell makeup looking a mess? To top things off, Arnone took one look at me after the eating of the sausage and began to speak in the total hatred that only a real friend can pull off.
Arnone: "Amanda, your roots are horrible. There is absolutely NO excuse for that. You do your own hair. What is the problem? Seriously, that is over an inch of out growth."
Me: "Whatever Arnone, it's only because it's up and I'm sweaty. When it's down it's not that bad".
Arnone: "Well, you're right. It's not that bad…no wait, I can't lie, yes it is bad".
Me: "I was going to do it this weekend but I didn't have time".
Arnone: "You should to it when you get home because really Amanda, no excuse."
This prompted my immediate text to my boyfriend proclaiming that although it's very sweet of him to have dinner ready when I get home that I will be making a trip to Kroger for some dang hair dye. He graciously said that he will pick some up when he goes there to get groceries. Okay, so this sounds like a bad idea to everyone at the counter but I don't care because I need pretty hair. I can't be white trash any longer walking around with the root action.
My boyfriend calls me from the hair dying isle. He's naming a million names and products and I tell him to just pick one. I'm immediately stopped by another coworker and advised to choose a dark brown. I relay the info to Jonathan, and he says okay.
I go home, eat, and change clothes because as my mom's witness, I get this dye everywhere. Jonathan, being the chemist, inspects each and every item in the box and begins explaining to me how to color my hair. Now, I've colored my hair every color of the rainbow every 6 weeks since I was in the 8th grade but never once has their been so many neato items in a hair color box.
Jonathan: "This little tube goes on pre color. It's to protect your hair."
Me: "is this necessary?"
Jonathan: "well, it's the first step, just do it".
So I put on the gloves and then the protectant. It smells good and makes my hair kinda oily. Whatever. Step one is complete.
The rest is history folks, I apply the color and it immediately starts to turn. Yes the package says to leave on for 30 minutes but I know I'm way wicked smarter than the hair color folks so I just leave it on for 10.
It was a good thing. I hop out of the shower, very excited to blow dry my new hair. What's this? It looks a little black. No worries, it's still wet. Okay, now it's blow dried, it's still black. Maybe it's the light. I walk in the living room and Jonathan is lying on the couch reading organic chemistry (for fun…how cute).
Me: "Yup, gonna need some highlights"
Jonathan : "wow!!!!!!!! It's dark, looks kinda gothic".
Nice. I go into the bathroom and whip up a concoction of hair bleach and shampoo and wash my hair about 300 times. I turn the water in the bathtub blue and black and I think I scared Jonathan a little. Long story short, the washing allows for my hair to be lighter and today I'm proud to say that I actually like it. I am my natural color and I haven't been since the 8th grade.
It's also funny how men and women react to changes in another's hair. Women either love it or hate it, men just state the obvious. Every male that I work with said "oh, you dyed your hair. It's brown. I like it". While my women coworkers exclaimed "oh my gosh! Do you like it?". I promised myself that I'm giving it 2 days. After that if I need some highlights, they are a going in, but for now, I will continue to startle myself when I look in the mirror.

2006-08-07T13:19:00.000-06:00

This weekend was my 10 year high school reunion. It was quite possibly one of the coolest experiences of my life. And I mean that in a non 'My So Called Life' kinda way.
High school graduation was blah and we all couldn't can't wait to get to college and out in the 'real world' and leave all that little kid bull poo behind. I remember thinking that it was going to be 2006 before I saw some of the people that I had spent a good part of my life with (At least I learned some basic math-ha) and that night, it seemed like a million miles away.
When all of the talk about the reunion started a few months ago, I was reluctant to go because I pretty much hang out with all of the people that I care to see in present day time. Don't get me wrong, I like catching up with old friends, but not all at once. It gives me a headache. When my childhood friend Andrea called begging me to go, I respectfully declined. When letters about scrap books and updated info came to my mailbox, I threw them away…and on Friday as I sat at my desk waiting for the 5:00 hour, emails were pouring in about who was coming and who was not and still I wanted nothing to do with it. (I'm a bit of a hard head).
My brother in law-whom I hadn't seen in a while-was coming home this weekend and my boyfriend was making the journey to Hot Springs with me so I had 2 good reasons not to go. But then, I found out that the brother in law was only here for a few hours, and that the boyfriend actually wanted to go. Damn it.
I was kinda nervous at first because I wanted to be the girl with cute hair and fun accessories. I walked into the kitchen, asked my dad, 'if you hadn't seen me in 10 years, would you think I looked hot??' he said, 'well, you do look 10 years older'. Thanks Dad : ).
We get to the restaurant and as soon as I open the door, I'm greeted by old familiar faces with smiles and hugs to give out. It's a little cheesy at first but after a few beers, everyone had a blast. We laughed and brought up embarrassing stories about breaking car windows and not knowing that you are suppose to close the lid on a tanning bed. Old classmates introduced me to their husbands and wives and proudly showed pictures of the rugrats. It was nice to catch up and see folks that you had forgotten about and who had forgotten about you, and to see who put on a few pounds and who had thinning hair. I kept thinking about what I had said a year ago: 'if I have a kick ass job and a cute boy, then I'll go'. And while I did not think about this until after the reunion, this was not my concern anymore, while I do have a kick ass job and a super cute boy who I'm crazy about, it didn't matter. I got to be a kid again, surrounded by people who I grew up with. Only this time, we could have some beer : )

2006-08-03T14:12:00.000-06:00

So it's hot in AR. When I say "hot" I mean, ouch-I can't-breathe-my-shoes-are- melting-why-do-I-have-to-put-on-clothes kinda hot. It's miserable. My 500 sq foot apartment used $63.45 worth of electricity last month and I'm not even home the hottest part of the day and diligently turn up the ac to 75 in hopes that I will not have a roasted cat when I get home. Anywho. You get my point.
Robin and I decided to go to Old Navy to pick up a baby present for our boss. She had brought pizza and we were shoving it on our faces like two fat kids with a gallon of chocolate ice cream and whipped frosting birthday cake. The funny part is, we both looked very hip and professional in our work attire and here we are, talking with our mouths full, crust flying everywhere. It was one of the funniest moments that I've experienced in a long time. It's good to have friends like that who you can be the fat kid with and not care that there is a huge piece of pepperoni in your bicuspid.
I also learned about a new button in my car on this trip. When I bought my Xterra, I read Consumer Reports and they stated that the 2 negative ratings were because of the wind noise (above 65 sounds like the window is cracked…a little annoying) and the air conditioner. Until our shoving- pizza-in-face lunch, I just thought that my air sucked because if Consumer Reports says its so, it must be. Since we are both melting and fighting over the middle vents, Robin pushes this button and suddenly, the air is at least 100 times cooler. I screech with excitement because I'm not a big fan of the sweating and she explains that this magic button takes the air already inside the vehicle and recools it, making the air feel like it's an artic blast. Then, my brilliant friend, precedes to give me the "oh, you're a dumbass" look for not knowing this. So here's the point of this rambling, friends who can shove food in their face quick like a bunny and who can tell you that you are retarded for not knowing about the max ac button, are a rare find.

2006-08-02T08:21:00.000-06:00

I just bitched at Robin yesterday saying that there was no such thing as writer's block and that when she writes that she should just spill it all out because editors edit and writers write…and now I'm eating my words. I'm trying to be dilligent and write every other day or so but for some reason, I don't have clue what to write about today and we just went to make our go go juice and she told me that there is a link on her site to mine so BALLS! I really do have to write something. (my freak out here)
I'm jealous that I have no super amusing stories like some folks. My life right now is very good…probably the best that it has been in a long time…and it has to do with the fact that I'm content. That is a huge place to be. I mean to say that one is happy with every aspect of life is like saying that every day is free icecream! I am usually a spaz and totally nerotic. Lately, I haven't been. I think it has to do with that not only am I happy, but that I'm discovering parts of me that I didn't know existed. For instance, I am well known for being a little bit of a jokester when the moment calls for seriousness. I am a smart ass everytime a serious subject comes up or I'm the giggling nut at a funeral and the chick at the wedding who isn't crying but secretly hopes that someone will trip and fall down the isle because, lets all face it, that's be fabulous, or when what you are saying sounds like freaking "blah blah blah" to me and I want to punch you in the face, but I refrain and resort to sarcasm.
Anywho, now I'm that girl who likes to hear sweet things from the boyfriend and likes to have him cook for her and it be ready when she gets home and who giggles a bit when a kiss is made on the cheek in front of company and more disturbingly, is fully sweet right back after these gesters and sarcasm is left at the door…at least for a little bit. : )
The thing is, he TOTALLY appreciates the sarcasm but I know that he thinks it's extra cool when I respond like a normal sweet young lady. What have I become? A mushy girl? I refuse to be dubbed that. My brilliant friends say that this has always been me but that I never embrased it. Even my coworker Ryan just moments ago as I gripped that I had become 'that girl' said, "well, it must not bother you because you aren't doing anything about it" and looked at me very yoda-ish like he had just made a speech that shook the nations. As much as I hate to admit it, this is me…and secretly, I kinda like it.

2006-07-25T07:24:00.000-06:00

There was a movie that came out a few years ago called "The Wedding Planner". Not only am I little embarrassed to say that I've seen this movie numerous times, but more so of the fact that I own it (I swear it's just to see the part where he almosts wrecks and blames it on the 'damn deer in the road'). This of course, is beside the point.
There was a scene where the main character was yelling at her father saying that she did not want an arranged marriage. Her father then preceeds to tell her that he and her mother had an arranged marriage and how at first they didn't want anything to do w/ one another but they began to respect one other and then that respect grew to like and like grew into love.
I have always said that I believe that I would be open to the idea of arranged marriages.
If I lived back in the day, not that I would know the difference, but I would be okay with Ivan and Carol scooping out my hubby. I love my parents and although we may not agree on certain types of music or food or even how the furniture should be arranged, they know me and who I am and I think that if a young man's family came along and wanted my hand in marriage in exchange for a hefty amount of corn or a prize goat, my parents would honor that with my best intentions in mind. Plus, it would be hella cool knowing who I was to end up with right from the beginning and to not have to date a whole bunch of village idiots to get to the right one.
I've shared this concept w/ several people and have gotten mixed reactions. Some get angry and say "no" right away because they want to be the ones to decide who they end up with and they would never trust their parents. Others, completely agree w/ me in the idea that it's just straight up tiring sometimes to date and what the heck? Bring on the neighbor girl/guy that you grew up in the tribe with.
Don't get me wrong, although my heart has been broken a time or two, I really do enjoy dating...especially when you find someone who's funny and smarter than you (in some areas) and even opens car doors and pays for stuff! : )
It's nice to experience and to get to know different people and to see what we want out of our relationships and love. We learn how to treat people and more importantly how we want to be treated. That's a lesson that no amount of corn can trade I suppose.

2006-07-21T13:35:00.000-06:00

This is my first blog and I'm as giddy as a kid on Christmas. Granted, I do not possess Robin's writing ability, I can at least form complete sentences…and some of the time, they will in fact, make sense.
Every day when I sit myself at my desk, I flip the calender and it reveals a quite humorous quotation from a famous woman. Some days…actually most days, they are bashing men. Today's on the other hand, bashed everyone. It was spoken by the woman who will forever be remembered as the crotch grabbing, spitting singer of the Star Spangled Banner…Roseanne Barr. The quote was as follows: "I think I'm a pretty good judge of people, which is why I hate most of them".
This goes in perfect harmony with the woman whom Robin and I had the unfortunate pleasure of incountering yesterday at the Wild Oats. We managed to walk the 1/2 mile to the car in the blazing 105 degree temprature and begin our journey (it's more fun to sound dramatic). We were in a hurry because the market is way the hey hey on the other side of town and granted while we all are allowed an hour for lunch, folks in AR don't know how to drive so you never know if you're going to get stuck behind Speed Racer or Grandma Sue. Anywho. So we grabbed our Apple Cider vinger and preceeded to the ONE open check out lane. The lady in front of us was having issues with some crackers that she had purchased saying that they were too high in sodium to belong in a health foods store and, as she tossed the box to the cashier, added that they tasted like poo. (she really didn't use the word poo but its all good). She also had in her hand a bag of almonds and wanted to exchange the salty poo for them. The cashier weighed the almonds and advised the woman that she owed $5.40. Hearing this woman's reaction you would have thought the cashier demanded the life of her first born and then 20 bones…she freaked out questioning the cashier's intelligence and the validity of the scale. The cashier was some what taken aback by this and preceeded to tell the crazy almond lady that the crackers in fact had covered only a small part of what the almonds cost being that they were $10.99 a pound. Well of course crazy almond lady wanted to know how many pounds she had and all that good stuff and here are 5 people behind us rolling their eyes and begging the lady to just pay the dang 5 bucks and go on about ya business. Not to mention Robin and I both were ready to naw our arms off in hunger so please lady, for the love of everything good and holy, just suck it up and pay this poor cashier. Well, she finally did, mumbling the whole time under her breath about how she had bought almonds before and they weren't that much…yes ma'am you might have but either you a) didn't have as many as you did today or b) you were in a much better mood when you made your prior purchase and thought that a few bucks for some dang good almonds was quite alright with you.
Now, I'm not saying I'm perfect when it comes to the world of customer service. Having started out in the customer service world working at the Piggly Wiggly, I found out rather quickly that some folks just have bad days. And I could have taken the lower road earlier this same day that crazy almond lady took hers and strangled the cashier at the fun store w/ a thong when she told me that I could not return a perfectly unworn and unwrapped item and that I needed to accept store credit or exchange it. At first I recalled no mention of this policy on the receipt and wanted to explain this to her but decided to just suck it up, take my $35 store credit to be tucked neatly away for years to come.
My point of this story is this cheesy but true fact, it takes a hella lot more effort to be mean than it does to be nice. Yes, there are people who simply hate life and everyone in it, but for the most part, folks are nice and it makes us feel better when we are nice. Hating and all that, it just wears me out.