have you got a reindeer up your butt?

gosh, i hope not. this quote from Ouiser (steel magnolias) always cracks me up. and on numerous occasions i have wanted to belt it out...but being a proper southern lady i have thought better of it.
where, you ask, have i felt as if i have come in contact with individuals suffering from a painful reindeer probe? well...the mall of course, joann's fabrics, target, kirkland's, world market...i could go on forever. these places seem to bring out the best in christmas sales and at the same time the worst in christmas behavior.
saturday, i decided to take a trip around town to seek out some bargains. i was not christmas shopping, mind you, i was selfish shopping. home furnishings and up to date decor. what better time to redecorate then when the store is on sale! however, i noticed right away that others were not as jovial as i was, nor were they as relaxed. they were on a mission and i was an unfortunate road block. i was preventing people from getting the keurig they needed becasue i was lolly gagging in the k-cups department searching out an awesome new flavor. i was directly interfering with people's ability to get the best christmas ornament ever because i was in no hurry to find both me and my parents a new home 2010 ornament. i was blocking the road when i couldn't decide which beer should complete my mix and match 6 pack and for goodness sake all they wanted was 40 bottles of the angry elf seasonal. needless to say...i was not making anyone's season brighter.
well, naturally, i decided to play up my good fortune. while i was feeling so jolly i decided to see how may people i could irritate just by being myself. the response was overwhelming. i was disliked in a real way, a pain in a major way, and just generally in the way. but i did find an adorable throw for the new sofa, an upholstery fabric (that didn't make me twitch) for the accent chair, and some new tervis tumblers that will be a wonderful addidion to my k-cup filled mornings.
all in all a shopping success. for me at least. and i hope that other people were able to make it through the day with all the wrapping paper, bows, wii games, and $3 dvd's they could handle. i mean after all isn't that what christmas is all about?

please sit still

i know this will sound so hateful, but i do not care.
please, parents, demand good behavior of your children. you are in charge (or so i thought).
it is so exhausting to go to dinner (like i just did) and fight to talk to the people at the table with you because a little boy insists on driving his hot wheel car (complete with sound effects) around the back of the booth we share. he was an adorable little boy. but he was rude. now i know that children are impulsive and that they really only know what is right and wrong based on what they have been taught. so, i can only assume that his parents had not told him that it is inappropriate to drive your hot wheels truck on a strangers seat. and even more i can only assume that he does not know that to eat your dinner you have to be facing your table. and even more than that i can only assume that his parents were not taught these things either seeing as how they were unalarmed by this display of disruptive behavior.
now i'm not trying to be a scrooge. i love children. i work with and for children. i want to see kids grow and learn and flourish. however, just because i love kids and work with them does not mean that i am capable of brushing off bad behavior as a phase, exploration, or creativity. these excuses are just that, excuses. and specifically they are excuses that parents make for failing to control their offspring and that is not the offsprings fault. i'll explain.
in my house, as a kid, i believed in my heart that my mom and dad were in charge. i believed that if i acted a fool then i would have to answer for that behavior and it could only end badly for me. i also believed that i better be good or santa would withold gifts. (fair threat...i was a saint for most of november and december without fail). now, i must add, my parents did not practice the art of spanking. a swat on the hand was about the bulk of physical touble. that said, i still behaved. not 100% of the time, but enough that i typically avoided run-ins with punnishment. and the few times i remember getting in the MOST touble was for showing my true colors in public or at someone else's house. i knew the moment i acted out that the day would end badly, but sometimes a girl just has to pitch a little fit when her bulky and unattractive snow boots do not match the frilly pink dress she has planned to sport at sears. and bulky napolean dynamite boots don't just ruin the getting ready process but all other things tied to the day.
back on track, i knew how to act. i knew when i was goofing up. i knew that i better do like i was taught. and i never lived in fear, just a healthy dose of respect. so parents, call up tim and della. ask for tips (ask my dad...you'll never get my mom off the phone). ask how they managed to love their children while also delivering dicipline. better yet call me up and ask how i have faired as an adult in light of knowing that my parents never allowed me to express my creativity by singing loudly in the movie theater. ask how i ever became a productive member of society knowing that my parents never allowed exploration without their consent.
parents, you're in charge. love your kids completely by teaching them how to function while taking direction. love them in a huge way by teaching them to respect themselves and those around them. love them whole heartedly by having honest conversations and addressing the fact that not every activity is positive. and remember, i don't have kids and would rather not share my mellow mushroom pizza with yours.

happy christmaween?

i love this time of year. i love halloween, i love love thanksgiving, and i love love love christmas. i truly enjoy all the festivities the business and the general good cheer that comes with this time of year. (i'm actually a little giggly just thinking about all the upcoming fun)
HOWEVER, what is crap is with all this holiday hodge podge. i love Hobby Lobby (i really do) and i love Target (way too much) but you two along with other major retailers can't seem to keep your calendars straight. why is it that when i go to look for a new costume for Ellie May (this year she will be a bunch of grapes) anyway, why is it that when i come costume shopping i have to power past partridge in a pear dishes and tree stands right in the fake eyeball aisle. i don't know why we are rushing through all this excitement.
another problem is created, and that is the demand. everyone is so afraid in july that when they go to buy a brand new witches cauldron in october there will be none in the greater knoxville area cause they were sold out and replaced with wooden signs sporting the phrase "jingle bell rock?!" i just don't understand. i don't want to buy googly eyes and newt tounges in the summer...i want them now...in october...in order to make my perfectly adorable juice potion in pottery barn apothecary jars. for real, who plans THAT far in advance.
and third, it really produces a waistline crisis. i have been dodging candy corn and mini snickers bars for so long that i feel like i live in a tasty war zone. and it's never ending, pumpkin spice latte, pumpkin bread, pumpkin rolls, and cookies are around supporting turkey day. as if that is not enough to put you into a sugar induced coma; the christmas oreos are already starting to make their way to the shelves and i swear i heard the coca-cola santa packs are coming. this is way too much. i do not have that much willpower. who does?! AND if you can name a person who does or if you do then just know, i think your a weirdo.
so that said, i am tuning my pandora internet radio to "halloween party" for the rest of the weekend. Thriller? why yes please! so HAPPY HALLOWEEN to you and yours. but only halloween for now. the other well wishes will be coming later, dunked in a glass of egg nog.

clean up. company's coming.

this is a phrase i heard oh so often as a kid. at my house we didn't mind to live in our own mess we just didn't want other people to know we did. we would clean our house like it was about to endure military inspection before my grandma came to visit. and before christmas eve you would think that we had suddenly been asked to participate in the parade of homes. yes sir, we cleaned up before anyone had a chance to see our normal day mess.
now does this mean we lived in a trashed out home every day my grandma wasn't visiting. nope, not at all. but as most girls do, my sister and i never could get dressed in the morning without trying on the bulk of our belongings (nothing has changes) and then piling all the unsuitable attire on the bed. the bulk amount of clothes alone was enough to render a suprise visit from anyone a nightmare...for my mom.
i have recently learned, however, that other people do not share my families love for a tidy dwelling place. neither do they care if other people see the disaster they live in. how did i learn this you ask? i'll be happy to fill you in.
house hunting. house hunting should require a physical examination, at least 17 shots, and proper attire...a mask and gloves. people are disgusting and the most disgusting have decided that the only way to escape their filth is to sell their house. ever heard of merry maids? ever met mr. clean? would you mind to call in the brawny man? for real, your house needs some elbow grease and a bug bomb. yuck.
now i know that i have OCD tendencies. and i know that i am an organization freak. i know i was forced to value clean as a child. and i know that my 2nd biggest fear is hoarders. so clearly these things combine to make one tough critic...but come on. if you are trying to sell your house you don't need to advertize it's live in potential but displaying from floor to celing trophies that your child won 25 years ago and were only dusted the day it went on the shelf. you don't need to advertize that you are a top notch mechanic by leaving your 1984 trans am on blocks in your otherwise spacious garage (or driveway). and for goodness sake, do not advertize that your home is an artists dream come true by displaying all the colors that inspire you on the 4 walls in the master bedroom. what are you thinking? for real, are you kidding? do people put their house on the market as a hilarious candid camera bit?
needless to say i have been astonished. internet house shopping is so easy...and so misleading from time to time. realtors, you are so smart. you know just how to stand to catch the right amount of shadow and mask a wall color. you know just how to describe a gross dwelling place by saying it needs a little TLC. and you know just how to make a junk yard sound like the resident of an avid antiques collector.
my request, stop. please don't try to hide the disaster. please tell the hunter that "this place is a trainwreck and it needs an HGTV overhaul." and home owners, please, for the love of pete, clean your junk. depersonalize your house and try to be neutral. please, if you don't mind, pick up for dirty clothes and flush the toilet. here's a tip, when you sell your house, pretend that everyday it's on the market is a day you'll be getting a grandma visit. and if you have no intention of doing any of the above...leave a mask on the entry table (with some "thank you for stopping" prewrapped mini candy bars).

working 9 to 5

ok, so super lame title. i know. but what else would have possibly fit for a girl who literally works 9 to 5 in dolly's hometown.
i drive a long way to work and that is a time i really enjoy. mostly because it is quiet, i think of stuff to blog, and i catch up on celebrity gossip on the radio. in addition to all that serious stuff, i have decided a few things on my 45 minute one way commute.
1. working is for the birds.
2. i could be a better citizen if i had an endless cash flow.
3. i like stuff i can't afford.
now, since i am clearly a fan of not working, does that mean i don't like my job? nope. i actually love my job with my whole heart. i can't imagine doing anything else, and i know nothing else would fit me. but, i would be overjoyed if i could do the exact job i do now as a volunteer. i wish i could do work and let the church keep the money (of course i would need no bills and a bottomless pocketbook). i would be a force to be reckoned with if this were the case. BUT, it's not and love or no love...working is for the birds.
now how can money make me a better person? glad you asked. i like to help people out. i always want to give the hobo on the road some dinner money. i like to surprise the person behind me at starbucks with a free latte. i wish i could take every kid who needs new shoes shopping for all the things they lack. but the problem, i am doing good to feed and clothe myself sometimes. why can't i find that elusive money tree? why can't i fall in love and get married to a gatrillionaire who is a-ok with me staying at home and pursuing my passions and of course providing financial support to see my dreams through? why wasn't i born rich instead of so good looking? ugh...the plight of the pretty.
and maybe one of the most notorious hardships of this 9 to 5 gal is my champagne taste and beer budget. i like nice things. i like to buy stuff that will last. i like to redecorate every season. i like Tiffany's and Kate Spade, a lot. i like to be able to spend money. i just have some sort of imbalance that makes me only drawn to stuff i have to save up my sofa change to get. maybe i'm not the only person who suffers from budget breaks and buyers remorse. but i'm the only person i know who is affected by my parameters specifically...therefore, i feel sorry for me. again, this could be cured with a money tree or sugar daddy. i'm not (that) picky.
in the meantime, i'll keep buying $1 mcdonald's sweet tea instead of mcalisters yummier version. i'll keep shopping the clearance racks at target. i'll keep donating the tiny amounts of change i have to every sports team and bell ringer outside of walmart. i'll keep driving my fairly base model xterra. i'll even keep my "special moments only" policy for Tiffany and Kate.
but, when i'm a gatrillionaire, watch out. oprah and the queen will have noting on me. and on forbes magazine...i'll choose to smile next to dolly p. what up.

we were like peas and carrots...

had you asked me when i was a kid, teenager, or even about 2 months ago i would have NEVER admitted to being anything like my younger sister. just for reference:
i wear dark jeans with a standard bootcut bottom.
she wears neon purple denim that is so tight legged i can see her knee cap.
i have a standard and fairly boring haircut with just the right amount of natural looking low and highlights.
she has long locks with a trendy blue color gracing the top.
i have a nissan xterra that gets regular baths and has no "flair" on the outside.
she drives a ford truck that has hit everything in knoxville and has a sticker to cover every emotion or promote every band since 2001.
i love and only watch csi:ny.
she only watches csi (the original in vegas).
i am short and stout. yep, top and bottom heavy.
she is tall and perfectly proportioned. (thus the skinny jeans)
i could really go on forever. and ever. but i don't want to. so here's a visual to help you wrap your mind around this polar opposite sibling syndrome.
this is me working at church camp

this is laura going to work

in all honesty, other than our parents, we don't have that much in common. but somehow i find that even with all our differences we are sometimes like peanut butter and jelly, milk and cookies, coke and cherry. way different, true. but most people like the two together. they work out ok.
that's what i'm learning about my little sister. she doesn't look, act, or sound like me...BUT when we hang out it is usually an alright time. we laugh at similar jokes, situations, blah blah. we both love stories. we both can break a sweat lip syncing to journey (seperate ways usually gets the best response). we both love pauley shore and think that he is terribly tallented. we both like peas with mashed potatoes. the aspca commercials make us mad. and i've never seen either of us say no to ice cream.
do we get along? sometimes. do we have similar goals? nope. do we both have the stellar personality that i was blessed with? not really. BUT we both love hockey. that's common enough ground to enjoy each other's company...if i do say so myself.
had you asked me before, i would have said we were scary different. i would have said she's the skinny one that looks like a native american. i would have said she is the one who yells a lot. i would have said you got lucky when you met me rather than my stinking sister. BUT not so much now. i find myself defending her dumb times. asking for her music so i can update my playlists for free. arguing with mom on her behalf. battling her at wii baseball and not punching her in the throat when she's a punk. and i even find myself paying for her dinner so she can keep her money.
if aging is responsible for this epiphany than i am scared to know what else i will discover. i could be wrong about other things and start to change how i function. i mean it happened this time.
nope, i doubt it.

this is football...

...all the people want to hear about is touchdowns and injuries.
right. that's all they care about. if that is all people really care about then i am going to personally extend an invitation to the cheerleaders to meet me at the gnome during halftime of the really cold games. no reason to freeze in a tiny skirt if no one cares.
in the south, football is about the touchdowns and injuries, BUT it is also about the tailgate and dress color. girls in the south do everything up right...well most of us. we match our purse to our shoes, we accessorize with zeal (and i don't mean a cheese hat or foam finger), and we can make a mean cobbler. yes sir, there is something about us southern girls that is unmatched by any other female from any other geographical location. we have secret dip recipes for game day (well actually you can have the recipe if you ask we keep no secrets). we have a special section of clothes in our closet dedicated to fall saturdays. and after you turn 55 you get special bracelets, earrings, and reading glasses to promote your favorite boys. after 55 you also take advantage of senior shopping day at belk but that is for another blog. a true southern girl makes the most of football season and all the people associated with it.
now i'm sure you are wondering why get dressed up for a ball game? why get dressed up to walk up stadium stairs an eat hot dogs? don't worry i'll tell you.
the tailgate. the tailgate is just as important as the game. for some people the tailgate is the reason they never actually make it in the stadium (but those people are ill behaved). the tailgate is not just a way to grill before a game; it is a chance to meet and greet. to network with the guy who has a business that could benefit your own. to say hello to so and so's new girlfriend that you have to be nice to regardless of the fact that she is from new york city. the tailgate is a chance to show off your new orange purse! and if you don't have one to show off kate spade did have a nice selection of orange on sale...you're welcome. the tailgate is a way to enjoy the people you see all the time, in a public setting, under a tent that you had at "T" printed on just for game day. plus the tailgate is assurance that you won't miss the traditional "Vol Walk." it is here that you set the tone for the ball game. it is here that you decide who you will invite over to your house for the away games. and it is here that you check out the boys at the other tailgate tents. (you will recognize the acceptable one by their sear sucker pants or special saturday pants, polo shirts, sperry top-siders or rainbows,croakies, and orange solo cups.)
let's just say you can't make it to the stadium or it is (ugh) and away game. well, that doesn't slow us down or change the color of the sweater around our necks. not one bit. away games mean gatherings. it means opening up your house to your male and female friends and providing a nice arrangement of heavy appetizers and a fresh, clean flat screen. away games have the ability to be just as fun and are for sure just as important socially. in the south, saturday means football, period. and a true southern girl is always ready for the game.
so, here's to the southern girls who walk from the garage to the stadium in heels just because they make her legs look longer. here's to the southern girls who stay up all night on a friday to cook yummy snacks for everyone under the tent. here's to southern girls who can keep up with the boys while keeping their dress clean and their pearls in one piece. here's to the southern girls who are older than all the college students but still have as much energy. here's to the southern girls who show up in pin attire and sport buttons that share how much their sorority loves the team. here's to the girls of fall, thanks for making every gathering classy and memorable.

i thought this was wireless

well here we go again. sara v. technology (round 867). in the office on the left: a young, hip, knowledgeable, and efficient sara. and intruding upon her space: all the cords to everything that should be wireless.
seriously, this is how i feel right now. i have a wireless key board, mouse, the works. HOWEVER my desk is covered in 1 million wires. i am out of sockets in the wall outlets and honestly, the mess, is causing me to twitch.
how did this happen?! why does stuff have to come with so many cords?! but more importantly, why is it that we strive and strive to make life easier and somehow we just muck it all up?!
case and point: my first computer was an HP desktop that weighed about 1,000 pounds and had 2 games pre-stored, minesweeper and solitaire. i installed the Oregon trail and ran it as a DOS program. yes, this is all true. this computer was basic. it was not capable of fingerprint detection or voice recognition. and it for sure did not have wireless internet capabilities. however, it always worked. and i didn't even upgrade to the beast model (i'm pretty sure there were only 3 options IBM, HP, and apple. but don't quote me on that. p.s. none of them were particularly beast.) TODAY i have 2 laptops, 2 printers, and extra flat screen monitor, a hardwired network ordeal, a wireless router, a wireless mouse and keyboard and the most important white wire for itunes. all of this in my office. and TODAY the internet froze, gmail kicked me out while the internet was unfrozen, my printer ran out of ink after i found an online method for installing it because i lost a disc (i know my fault) and my monitor (that enhances my laptop) was wavy until 11 a.m! all of this technical hardship and no oregon trail to fill in my lunch break. is bigger better? does it really help me to have more stuff and more wires to make life simpler?
sometimes my answer is YES! i need my ipod and i need to be able to online shop for TOMS and kate spade discounts, however, technology has made me so dependant on stuff that my memory is poop and i'm broke.
for instance, i can't tell you any one's phone number. if i am involved in an accident and my airbags break my face and my phone there is no way i will be able to call a family member for assistance (that's after i call the rescue squad and fire department of course). and if i buy one more kate spade handbag because gilt is having a stellar sale i may have to file for bankruptcy (or maybe just be forced into a noodle diet).
i used to know all of my friends numbers by memory, AS WELL AS dominoes, the broadacres recreation club (the neighborhood pool), and STAR 102.1 (for free CD call in opportunities). i used to have money in a legit piggy bank and i was not inclined to spend it all in one place. as a matter of fact i used to save and save just to see how much i could get. i didn't know about all the cool fashions i was missing. i used to write letters on paper and scream when i got one of my own from the super cute boy from camp. i used to enjoy vhs even if i had to wait for the movie to rewind. now...don't even think about making me wait or telling me i can't have something. technology has enabled me to be a brat.
i can't say it's all bad and i won't say it's all bad. however, i can't help but wonder if it is all necessary. and i can't help but wonder why all this wireless stuff makes such of mess of cords.

sugar and spice and everything nice...

that's what are little girls made of...all things delightful. i think this is unfair. it creates an unreal expectation for girls to be meek, adorable, poised, and peppy. girls are expected to maintain a standard of social excellence that is in all honesty, crap. here's why...
snakes and snails and puppy dog tails. that's what little boys are made of. so from birth we give boys an excuse to be gross, scary, rowdy, and unkempt. this means their social demeanor can be all of the above and no one really cares...it's how they are made.
well i protest. i would like to be able to have just one day of nothing but snakes and snails behavior. one day when i could speak my mind without being held to the southern belle standard. one day when i could just honestly release all the poise i've been fighting to maintain.
why the sudden rush of bad attitude...well of course it was brought on by a snake, snail, and boy acting like a big ole tail.
i work in a profession dominated by the opposite sex. which is fine. no complaints. until it becomes time to communicate. my sugar and spice is never really understood and when i have a day where i want to be a big pile of snails i am always the bad guy. never mind the slug attitude i tolerate on a regular basis. it's a double standard and it is unfair.
i think i should be allowed to speak my mind like everyone else WITHOUT being labeled a buttface. i think i should get to act out when i don't get my way WITHOUT being labeled high maintanence. i think i should be able to be completely irresponsible for a day WITHOUT being labled unprepared. i mean my male counterparts get to do all of the above and the rationale...oh that's just how boys are.
well, boys, grow up. believe it or not you too get older every year. believe it or not you too have to be positive members of communities. believe it or not you won't always get your way and life is not always fair. so stop your bellyaching and stop promoting double standards. really it's not benificial to you either. do you always want to be viewed as a little immature just because you are male? do you want to be the second person asked to complete a task because no one thinks you will get it done? do you want to be thought inadequate? do you really want people to say "that's just how he is?" do you want to be described as being composed of snakes, snails and puppy dog tails? really? really! i think not.
so here's to boys, may they be more like girls. not in a creepy way but just enough. here's to boys, may they grow up, shape up, and get up off their rear ends because us girls are tired of pulling around your dead weight. and here's to boys, may they understand that i don't dislike them i just needed a few minutes of snake behavior.

changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

nothing remains quite the same. wow, is that ever true. and honestly, it is a gosh darn good thing. i was looking as some sweet shoes i had a few years back that got shoved/hidden in the back of my closet and wowzers. i am glad some things never stay the same. i was also looking through some really gnarly pictures of my cousin and me hangin' tough by the pool and well, let's just say we were some really electric youth. out suits were on fire.

other things change too: water becomes a solid in antartica, and a liquid on the equator, on the sun...gas. you just never know what is going to happen. as it was with me lately. things were changing. now, i didn't go to antartica, and i haven't become a gas, and i didn't suddenly drop 150 lbs and fit back into that stunning piece of swimwear BUT i am hitting the old dusty trail to head up the mountain.
what the crap does that mean. i have no idea. so i'll be more clear. i got a new job and i'm moving back to my homeland...knoxville, tn. (it seems fitting here to add more pictures. a couple that will warm the cockles of your heart)


all these changes in latitudes (and longitudes) have had a rather interesting impact on attitudes. jimmy knew his stuff.
it's hard to leave a place. it's harder to leave the people. regardless of the opportunity that awaits or the stadium hot dogs that complete your fall season; it's just hard. the kids i am leaving here are super. i know i will be meeting more super kids soon but it can't help but weigh at least a little on my heart.
not only the people but the specific things that make a place a home...that is hard to leave too. spankies has been cooking me dinner for years, strouds has been meeting my sweet tea needs for a long time, jongees has been the source of many things around gift time, and tennessee tech still makes me well up with golden eagle pride. i've lived in my apartment complex since 2003. i've had that stinking green couch since about then too. i've had the same hot pink bath towels since it was cool to be bold (maybe it was never cool to be as bold as me but oh well).
so as i bubble wrap up my memories i try to remember to hold back the cries. i mean what good would that do anyway. i am enjoying cookeville only food, people, and shops until i leave and then...changing my attitude.

i'm as good once as i ever was

welp, irony is a real pain in the buttocks. i have a birthday-i mean anniversary- and i reflect on where i've been and how far i've come and decide that i am a wiser better person for all my experiences. FALSE. i'm still a real piece of work sometimes.
see i have these friends, sisters really (thank you KD for being a great thing), who have the ability to make me want to act like a total goober. i feel the need to resort to my former bonehead self in order to bring the buckets of fun. well...way to go old fart sara.
i like to think that toby keith has the ability to really speak to people's hearts. i mean songs like "who's your daddy" and "i wanna talk about me" really have changed my life. no. however, old toby really did hit the nail on the head with the loaded lyrics "i'm not as good as i once was, but i'm as good once as i ever was." i chose to live like toby. i was convinced that while i may not be able to live up to the old title "club sara" i could sure bring it for a few hours.
it is this myth that i would like to speak to. i am not able to bring it. i am not 21 anymore. and more importantly like an old car i take a little more effort to repair. one night with the girls (and no it is not their fault i'm a giant boob) was equal to 2 days of recovery. not just because i was too big for my britches but for several reasons.
1. i stayed up past 10 p.m. and WOWZERS that is a nightmare.
2. i got to enjoy a little secondhand smoke which my eyes are still crying over.
3. i overextended my social routine. it's tiring talking to so many people.
4. i still had to be up early (because i'm 100 years old and i just happen to be up with the sunrise).
however, even with it's hardships i had a hoot and a holler. nope...i could not go back to college and keep up. i am not really sure how i managed to be a student, socialite, sorority member, and gainful employee for 5.5 years while i maintained disfunctional behavior. BUT i'm as good once as i ever was; i will just need a biscuit, tylenol, entire afternoon in the pool, and a coke the size of my face.
all of this to say: man i love my friends and seeing their faces and having a time to be former verson of ourselves makes me love them more.

"age is a very high price to pay for maturity"

i stopped getting older a couple of years ago. it really was a great idea to just stop at 25 and celebrate anniversaries of that date from then on. there are a few reasons it was an awesome idea.
one is it makes gift giving easier...there is an anniversary gift list (see the link below) that leaves nothing to question:
http://www.findgift.com/Anniversary-Table/
i am (like Rod Stewart, Mel Gibson, and Alphaville) forever young.
i will always have an excuse for a quarter-life crisis.
i have an excuse for watching Zac Efrom movies til I'm grey headed (i mean i'm only 25).

Really this is all just a long drawn out way of saying it's scary. thinking about getting this close to my 5 year anniversary (or 30 AHHH) is terrifying. i don't handle aging well. my knees crack, my back hurts if i don't sleep enough, i have to wear reading glasses, i have to pee everyday at 3 a.m., and then i wake up with the chickens. i am glad i'm not 15 anymore but gee whiz. all this wisdom and junk i'm supposed to be gaining is getting close to being outweighed by my vitamin cabinet.

so here's to birthdays. they can kiss my age.

officer, please, do not shoot me.

for anyone who didn't know i am a youth director. that is another way to say youth pastor, director of youth ministries, blah blah...
i work at a cumberland presbyterian church in small town, tennessee and (for the most part) love it. now don't get me wrong, every job has its high and low points but more often than not i'm feeling the highs.
the last event i hosted will, however, be listed in the list of low points for quite some time. it is the end of the school year here and, being a swell youth director, i planned a super fun first day out lock-in. now, for those of you who don't know what a lock-in is i'll tell you. it is another way to say youth director sleep torture. i stay up all night with rowdy kids and make sure that they are entertained for the entire night...all the while making sure they stay "locked-in" the church. awesome.

well we were chugging right along...a trip to the Minister's Treehouse, a Babe Ruth baseball game, dinner at zaxby's, and a late night showing of Irom Man 2. I was in the running for director of the year until we got back to the building and discovered all things tied to chaos.
an unindetified car was parked in the parking lot and lights were on in the building that should not have been. ok, big deal. well until one of my most responsible kiddos said "i see someone!" that little statement alone shoved us into a state of emergency. they had spyed someone in the building and they were freaking out. and honestly, they freaked me out. so...i called the police department. yes, i'm a drama queen and a chicken (all rolled into one).
long story short, i had to (with the protection of 3 armed-yes armed and ready- officers) search the church and unlock doors straight NYPD style. or as i prefer CSI:NY style. i got scared. not of the intruders but of the police officers. i was afriad i was going to get shot. not the glamorous ending i had in mind at all. the kids had to be locked into the bus guarded by another police officer. and the unidentified car was being searched and such. i was lucky that all the chaos the police officer that stayed with me was beautiful, and charming, and just my age :)
anywho, i didn't land a sweet date with a good looking cop, there was no one hiding out, the cars owner answered questions for the police department willingly, and i turned out the suspicious lights. i still sent the kids home though (even if the "perimeter was clear"). then i cried.

somebody go to the bathroom. it always makes the food come.

i notice that i eat out way too much. i don't always have big meals or a rootin' tootin' time every time i go out...but i'm out all the same. sad story, the waiters at one place in town know what i order and sometimes even ask "do you need a menu tonight?" and another place in town greets me with "hey you're here!" i used to think it was because i had such a stellar personality that i left a lasting impression. however, i think it has nothing to do with my personality and rather everything to do with my frequency. so why go out so much?
i thought about that too and i think i have an answer that makes sense. it's 3-fold really:

1. cooking for one sucks.
2. cleaning the kitchen sucks more.
3. going out means that i don't eat alone...and conversation is pretty fun.

so about the cooking. it's not cheaper or easier to cook for 1 person. most food does not come in 1 person portions and the food that does is typically frozen in a box prior to heating for 4-5 minutes on high. it's not always yummy to defrost dinner. when you cook for 1 it takes a long time. unless, again, it's a sweet frozen meal you can spend the same amount of time in the kitchen cooking for 4 as 1. that is discouraging and unfair. after i spend all that time in prep work i don't even think it looks good anymore.
then there is the clean-up...gag. cooking for 1 means dirtying up just about as many dishes as a whole family. pots and pans are just pots and pans. they have to be cleaned all the same. it really is exhausting. you cook all the food. eating is fast and then you clean up. no one shares the chore and it doesn't do itself. sometimes i think my mom wanted children so she could stop doing dishes and it makes sense to me.
last the conversation, or lack thereof, when you dine alone in your home. boo. no fun. unless CSI:NY is on i like to have people to talk to. it makes meals more homey. it makes time fly by. it makes you feel like less of a loser. the company alone is reason enough to get out!
all that said...i'm going to heat up my lean cuisine. delicious. no. oh well.

may your words be soft and fluffy...

...because you'll most likely eat them later. yep, i'm currently eating a slice of word pie and to be honest, i'm ok with it. i make fun of CR on a regular basis. mostly to her face. not because she is weird or dresses like a total barney or something mean like that. rather i make fun of her for being too connected. she facebooks, tweets, bbm's, mac's, (probably ipad's) and of course has a super hip blog. welp, here i go...blogging away in her footsteps, having her help me pick a clever title, and hosting on the same blog site. i'm a hypocrite.
oh well. i figure that it was about time i chose an outlet for all of my important observations. after all, i do notice some important stuff and i need to share that with someone else. someone besides by friends who get a heaping helping of my observations on a regular basis...free of charge. plus, i live in a small town and some days there are not a lot of people to talk to (unless of course i use the phone but who has time for that).
so here goes. here goes an attempt at civility wrapped in plain and simple southern critique. and bless my heart...i do try for civility.