I may or may not have actually had more than one of these conversations recently.
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
(me) "Hi! Will you be my friend?"
(random 1) "Uh, I am your friend."
(me) "Sweet! Lets hang out."
(random 1) "I'm busy."
(me) "Ok, lets hang out when you're not busy."
(random 1) "I'm always busy."
(me) "Well what are you busy doing? Maybe I can help, or be busy with you."
(random 1) "Mostly, I'm busy hanging out with my friends."
(me) "So, you're too busy hanging out with your friends?"
(random 1) "Yeah, I have alot of friends."
(me) "So we can be friends but we cant hang out?"
(random 1) "Yea, pretty much."
(me) "That's not a friend."
(random 1) "Well I still think were friends, always. No Matter What."
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
(me) "Hi! Will you be my friend?"
(random 2) "Uh, whats in it for me?"
(me) "Being my friend is in it for you."
(random 2) "Thats it?"
(me) "Yeah!"
(random 2) "Nothing else?"
(me) "Well, I'm a pretty awesome friend."
(random 2)"I have enough friends."
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
(me) "Hi, can I be your friend?"
"Sure."
(me) "Cool. Wanna get some coffee and maybe go for a walk?"
"Sure."
(me) "So, what's your name?"
"Me."
(me) "Hi, Me. We should probably keep our voices down so all these people dont think we're talking to myself."
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
Showing posts with label It's a girl thing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label It's a girl thing. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Friday, June 19, 2009
I can justify, just about, anything
I have a confession... I have not been blogging because I don't know how to post from Google Reader and I'm too lazy to log into blogger after I've read through my blog roll. It seems your adventure stories are far more entertaining to read than mine are to write. What can I say, I'm selfish and I don't like sharing.
Ok, that's not entirely true...what? it's not, I swear. I like sharing... I bought 4 bags in the past month (more on this. keep reading.) and my mom likes one so much that I've decided to give it to her for her birthday. See... I share.
I've just been spending far too many work hours shopping on eBay! I have developed a new fixation on Coach purses, and I'm trying to get better deals on wedding extras. It appears that once you say "wedding" or "bridal" the price, on simple accessories and favors, increases a million times over. Hair pins, for example, at the bridal shop run $75+ for a set of 6. If you log into eBay and search "Australian Crystal Hair Pins", one can acquire a set (or two, should you have trouble choosing) for $20.00 including international shipping.
(SCORE!)
Needless to say, my mother is a big fan of my ebaying! The Cowboy, on the other hand, is not as enthusiastic about it. His wallet was grateful that I got our wedding party gifts for a quarter of the price we would have paid at any typical engraving store. His wallet was even grateful that I got my first Coach bag for significantly less than he would have paid at even the outlet in Woodburn or Lincoln City... he was a little less grateful that I purchased an additional 3 Coach bags because I got such a killer deal on the first.
Does your brain justify things that way? If I get a really incredible deal on something I buy multiples. For instance, I can not possibly justify spending $300+ on a bag. I've never spent more than $100 on a bag, and I only went that far once. BUT! If I can get FOUR bags that would each normally cost upwards of $200, for right around $200, then by gosh I'm going to spend that $200 and not think twice. Am I crazy or is that as logical as I think it is?
Speaking of logical... I just consumed a rather large, highly caloric, authentic (read: straight from the Mexicans on the grubbinest roach coach around) breakfast burrito. I am stuffed. Like gluttonously stuffed. I knew I would feel this way when I ordered the burrito. I knew, when I grabbed five bucks and only my coffee on my way out the door this morning, that I was going to be this stuffed. I did it anyway. Why? You might ask. Because I know that this burrito will keep me full until well past dinner time. So this getting very sleepy, full like I just ate Thanksgiving Dinner feeling... so worth it. I have satisfied my hunger for the day. I will take my brisk, lunchtime walk; with no remorse about eating when I get back. When I get home I will pour a strong cocktail and serve leftovers for The Cowboy and Monkey. I will spend my evening relaxing with The Cowboy, pretending not to hear The Crazy Horse Lady ranting about the government, instead of cooking dinner and doing dishes.
Tomorrow morning, I meet with the florist to make final flower choices. Tomorrow afternoon, The Bridal Shower! We opted for rum punch over martini's only because, as mom put it, "It will be easier to keep the glasses full."
My Mom Rocks!
I'll try not to be so damn lazy, and post more. It's countdown time. 2 months and 2 days!
~cheers!
Ok, that's not entirely true...what? it's not, I swear. I like sharing... I bought 4 bags in the past month (more on this. keep reading.) and my mom likes one so much that I've decided to give it to her for her birthday. See... I share.
I've just been spending far too many work hours shopping on eBay! I have developed a new fixation on Coach purses, and I'm trying to get better deals on wedding extras. It appears that once you say "wedding" or "bridal" the price, on simple accessories and favors, increases a million times over. Hair pins, for example, at the bridal shop run $75+ for a set of 6. If you log into eBay and search "Australian Crystal Hair Pins", one can acquire a set (or two, should you have trouble choosing) for $20.00 including international shipping.
(SCORE!)
Needless to say, my mother is a big fan of my ebaying! The Cowboy, on the other hand, is not as enthusiastic about it. His wallet was grateful that I got our wedding party gifts for a quarter of the price we would have paid at any typical engraving store. His wallet was even grateful that I got my first Coach bag for significantly less than he would have paid at even the outlet in Woodburn or Lincoln City... he was a little less grateful that I purchased an additional 3 Coach bags because I got such a killer deal on the first.
Does your brain justify things that way? If I get a really incredible deal on something I buy multiples. For instance, I can not possibly justify spending $300+ on a bag. I've never spent more than $100 on a bag, and I only went that far once. BUT! If I can get FOUR bags that would each normally cost upwards of $200, for right around $200, then by gosh I'm going to spend that $200 and not think twice. Am I crazy or is that as logical as I think it is?
Speaking of logical... I just consumed a rather large, highly caloric, authentic (read: straight from the Mexicans on the grubbinest roach coach around) breakfast burrito. I am stuffed. Like gluttonously stuffed. I knew I would feel this way when I ordered the burrito. I knew, when I grabbed five bucks and only my coffee on my way out the door this morning, that I was going to be this stuffed. I did it anyway. Why? You might ask. Because I know that this burrito will keep me full until well past dinner time. So this getting very sleepy, full like I just ate Thanksgiving Dinner feeling... so worth it. I have satisfied my hunger for the day. I will take my brisk, lunchtime walk; with no remorse about eating when I get back. When I get home I will pour a strong cocktail and serve leftovers for The Cowboy and Monkey. I will spend my evening relaxing with The Cowboy, pretending not to hear The Crazy Horse Lady ranting about the government, instead of cooking dinner and doing dishes.
Tomorrow morning, I meet with the florist to make final flower choices. Tomorrow afternoon, The Bridal Shower! We opted for rum punch over martini's only because, as mom put it, "It will be easier to keep the glasses full."
My Mom Rocks!
I'll try not to be so damn lazy, and post more. It's countdown time. 2 months and 2 days!
~cheers!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Dancing Crazy Superbug Love
I'm getting the superbug. I can feel it in my muscles. I'm achy and tired and feeling all around craptacular.
But I made it to work today. Half asleep at the wheel. Seriously! Driving half asleep is worse than driving after perhaps consuming one or three too many.
(Not that I have ever done that.)
Moving on.
I had a blast Saturday night! We went out for a friend's birthday; and it seemed that everyone we knew, related to that friend and not, was at the bar, in good spirits (or full of them) and having a fabulous time. We danced most of the night, got to catch up with some friends we haven't seen in a while, and really enjoyed ourselves... OH! and we only spent forty bucks!
(seriously, two alchys in a bar for 4 hours only spending $40... that's just awesome, wouldn't you say?)
I will take a moment to say that I do not miss my old friends. I do not miss the drama, I do not miss the fighting, I certainly do not miss their apparent need to create drama and fights in the event that something is not already brewing.
Yes. Saturday night, Life was GRAND!
However.
I was crazy pregnant woman yesterday.
Except I'm not pregnant, so I guess I was just...
crap!
It was one of those days that should have been spent in bed, with a book and earplugs. Instead it was spent on one emotionally distraught misadventure after another; while my love did actually feed most of my roller coaster, he also caught the receiving end of the majority of my frustration, agitation, raw emotion, and subsequent burnt pizza.
The alarms should have sounded when I felt like crying, yes crying at the discovery that there were not enough eggs to make french toast, like I wanted. So My Love decided to make pancakes instead.
Saturday morning, I took the girls adventuring. He made himself an extraordinary to do list, which upon it's completion would have left Sunday for us to spend at our leisure. Only, unbeknown to me, he got to his parent's house, parked his rear in front of the computer and didn't come home until 8:00 pm, when we were supposed to be across town at a friend's birthday party.
At the discovery that, once again, our Sunday was going to be spent chasing everything he neglected to do on Saturday, I was... less then happy. THEN He sat on his rear, in front of the computer AGAIN, looking at houses for 2 hours, THEN he had to read the paper, THEN...
Ok, it was just NOT a good day.
Today, aside from being achy and tired and almost killing multiple people in my half asleep drive to the office, has been pretty ok.
I'm sheepishly trying to make ammends with My Love, who is surprisingly not ready to kill me.
(He did tell me not to ever have a bad day again.)
I discovered Google Reader. (sigh.) I'm in love. The office shall never be the same.
I also had my first Diet Rockstar in more than a month.
Oh -- it's raining. And truth be known, I'm glad.
~cheers
But I made it to work today. Half asleep at the wheel. Seriously! Driving half asleep is worse than driving after perhaps consuming one or three too many.
(Not that I have ever done that.)
Moving on.
I had a blast Saturday night! We went out for a friend's birthday; and it seemed that everyone we knew, related to that friend and not, was at the bar, in good spirits (or full of them) and having a fabulous time. We danced most of the night, got to catch up with some friends we haven't seen in a while, and really enjoyed ourselves... OH! and we only spent forty bucks!
(seriously, two alchys in a bar for 4 hours only spending $40... that's just awesome, wouldn't you say?)
I will take a moment to say that I do not miss my old friends. I do not miss the drama, I do not miss the fighting, I certainly do not miss their apparent need to create drama and fights in the event that something is not already brewing.
Yes. Saturday night, Life was GRAND!
However.
I was crazy pregnant woman yesterday.
Except I'm not pregnant, so I guess I was just...
crap!
It was one of those days that should have been spent in bed, with a book and earplugs. Instead it was spent on one emotionally distraught misadventure after another; while my love did actually feed most of my roller coaster, he also caught the receiving end of the majority of my frustration, agitation, raw emotion, and subsequent burnt pizza.
The alarms should have sounded when I felt like crying, yes crying at the discovery that there were not enough eggs to make french toast, like I wanted. So My Love decided to make pancakes instead.
Saturday morning, I took the girls adventuring. He made himself an extraordinary to do list, which upon it's completion would have left Sunday for us to spend at our leisure. Only, unbeknown to me, he got to his parent's house, parked his rear in front of the computer and didn't come home until 8:00 pm, when we were supposed to be across town at a friend's birthday party.
At the discovery that, once again, our Sunday was going to be spent chasing everything he neglected to do on Saturday, I was... less then happy. THEN He sat on his rear, in front of the computer AGAIN, looking at houses for 2 hours, THEN he had to read the paper, THEN...
Ok, it was just NOT a good day.
Today, aside from being achy and tired and almost killing multiple people in my half asleep drive to the office, has been pretty ok.
I'm sheepishly trying to make ammends with My Love, who is surprisingly not ready to kill me.
(He did tell me not to ever have a bad day again.)
I discovered Google Reader. (sigh.) I'm in love. The office shall never be the same.
I also had my first Diet Rockstar in more than a month.
Oh -- it's raining. And truth be known, I'm glad.
~cheers
Monday, February 2, 2009
A Breath of Fresh Air
Happy Monday!
I'm in good spirits today.
I'm sure you all know that the Steelers won the Superbowl... I'm not a huge football fan. I "watch" when I must. But when James Harris ran 100 for a touchdown in the 2nd Qtr, I was hooked. It was probably the best game I've seen in a LONG time!
I actually had a great time at the Superbowl shindig yesterday. I really need to learn not to let my own insecurities get the best of me. (that was hard to type) I got to talk to my love on our way home about how I was feeling about going, and he basically came to the same conclusion. I came from a group of friends who got together all the time (seriously... every weekend) and when I met my love we hung out with his friends pretty regularly. But families happen and life happens, and unlike my old friends who still party like their 22, we're all settling down and growing up (in that sense) so just because we don't hang out with them all the time doesn't mean they aren't our friends.
I'm But also because we picked a place and set the date for the wedding!
YES!!! So now I can leave my love alone about it and start the fun stuff. Like colors and flowers and bridesmaids dresses and decorations and stuff... yep yep I'm gettin' 'xcited!
I also got to talk to the former other office goddess this morning. Once again, I took her actions personally when in fact they were not directed toward me at all. Someday I will stop doing that... maybe... I hope
Monkey is getting one of those coughs that makes me sad for her. Her lungs sound awful, and the roommates are due home this week. I'm praying praying praying for her sake that they catch another load or two and can stay on the road for at least another week.
I'm reading this book called "The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young. The other office goddess recommended it about a month ago when I was talking to her about my inherit struggle with church, keeping a faithful heart, and reflecting a "Christian" attitude in a world full of hypocrites and negativity. In the incredible way that God works, I happened upon it at Costco for $9.88 (I LOVE COSTCO BOOKS!) so I picked it up. It's such an incredible testimony. I don't know if it's part because it's local or because I'm a mother, or just because the Lord puts things in our lives to talk to us and sometimes we don't always see them for what they are, but I want to drive out to Wildcat and see if I can find the author's house just so I can give him a hug and thank him for sharing his story. I highly recommend it! If like to read, and you have time for such things, you'll blast right through it.
~cheers!
I'm in good spirits today.
I'm sure you all know that the Steelers won the Superbowl... I'm not a huge football fan. I "watch" when I must. But when James Harris ran 100 for a touchdown in the 2nd Qtr, I was hooked. It was probably the best game I've seen in a LONG time!
I actually had a great time at the Superbowl shindig yesterday. I really need to learn not to let my own insecurities get the best of me. (that was hard to type) I got to talk to my love on our way home about how I was feeling about going, and he basically came to the same conclusion. I came from a group of friends who got together all the time (seriously... every weekend) and when I met my love we hung out with his friends pretty regularly. But families happen and life happens, and unlike my old friends who still party like their 22, we're all settling down and growing up (in that sense) so just because we don't hang out with them all the time doesn't mean they aren't our friends.
I'm But also because we picked a place and set the date for the wedding!
YES!!! So now I can leave my love alone about it and start the fun stuff. Like colors and flowers and bridesmaids dresses and decorations and stuff... yep yep I'm gettin' 'xcited!
I also got to talk to the former other office goddess this morning. Once again, I took her actions personally when in fact they were not directed toward me at all. Someday I will stop doing that... maybe... I hope
Monkey is getting one of those coughs that makes me sad for her. Her lungs sound awful, and the roommates are due home this week. I'm praying praying praying for her sake that they catch another load or two and can stay on the road for at least another week.
I'm reading this book called "The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young. The other office goddess recommended it about a month ago when I was talking to her about my inherit struggle with church, keeping a faithful heart, and reflecting a "Christian" attitude in a world full of hypocrites and negativity. In the incredible way that God works, I happened upon it at Costco for $9.88 (I LOVE COSTCO BOOKS!) so I picked it up. It's such an incredible testimony. I don't know if it's part because it's local or because I'm a mother, or just because the Lord puts things in our lives to talk to us and sometimes we don't always see them for what they are, but I want to drive out to Wildcat and see if I can find the author's house just so I can give him a hug and thank him for sharing his story. I highly recommend it! If like to read, and you have time for such things, you'll blast right through it.
~cheers!
Friday, January 30, 2009
I'm Outta' Here
Happy Fried-day!
I have nothing too pertinent to share today. Which means this is going to be long post, doesn't it?
I'm sad that my former co-office goddess has chosen to part with ME in a negative light. Her uncle let her go, because she doesn't want to come in and work, she just wants to write herself checks once a week. Things slowed down to the point that he doesn't need two people in the office anymore... and for somehow that makes me the wretched b**** who deserved to be shunned. Sad yes, I am. So is she.
We're off to find a wedding site tomorrow. We being my mom and I. I'm excited and annoyed. My love... oh how I love thee. Why on earth did I think that he would be any different than any other male when it came to planning our wedding? I dunno either, but for some reason I thought he'd at least help me pick a place. Oh No! I wanted small and intimate, he wanted a real wedding. OK I can do real wedding. Now his input is limited to "If we have it on a Friday people wont come." that's all... nothing more.
PSSSSHHHHH~
ooh ooh ooh I did find a pretty dress though!
I'm not big on football, but beings that I am "maritally required" to root for the Steelers, YAY Steelers! (or whatever.) We are going to a Superbowl party on Sunday, so that should be fun, right? Hang out with a bunch of My Love's friends wives, who thought I was a flash in the pan and are now forced to remember my name because I'm not goin' anywhere. I love these few and far between shindigs... practice the smile that shows in your eyes, be polite, and remember they don't want you to engage in their conversation just pretend that you're interested in what they're saying.
OH, and the last thing I will blurb about today... something I don't think many women say... I love my bathroom scale! I bought one last weekend, and while I'm sure it was just adjusting or whatever those things do... the past 3 days it has consistently showed the same weight, which is 4 pounds less than it said the three days before that! So, Yay for little insignificant things that keep the happy bubble inflated!
Have a joyous weekend!
~cheers
I have nothing too pertinent to share today. Which means this is going to be long post, doesn't it?
I'm sad that my former co-office goddess has chosen to part with ME in a negative light. Her uncle let her go, because she doesn't want to come in and work, she just wants to write herself checks once a week. Things slowed down to the point that he doesn't need two people in the office anymore... and for somehow that makes me the wretched b**** who deserved to be shunned. Sad yes, I am. So is she.
We're off to find a wedding site tomorrow. We being my mom and I. I'm excited and annoyed. My love... oh how I love thee. Why on earth did I think that he would be any different than any other male when it came to planning our wedding? I dunno either, but for some reason I thought he'd at least help me pick a place. Oh No! I wanted small and intimate, he wanted a real wedding. OK I can do real wedding. Now his input is limited to "If we have it on a Friday people wont come." that's all... nothing more.
PSSSSHHHHH~
ooh ooh ooh I did find a pretty dress though!
I'm not big on football, but beings that I am "maritally required" to root for the Steelers, YAY Steelers! (or whatever.) We are going to a Superbowl party on Sunday, so that should be fun, right? Hang out with a bunch of My Love's friends wives, who thought I was a flash in the pan and are now forced to remember my name because I'm not goin' anywhere. I love these few and far between shindigs... practice the smile that shows in your eyes, be polite, and remember they don't want you to engage in their conversation just pretend that you're interested in what they're saying.
OH, and the last thing I will blurb about today... something I don't think many women say... I love my bathroom scale! I bought one last weekend, and while I'm sure it was just adjusting or whatever those things do... the past 3 days it has consistently showed the same weight, which is 4 pounds less than it said the three days before that! So, Yay for little insignificant things that keep the happy bubble inflated!
Have a joyous weekend!
~cheers
Friday, January 23, 2009
Oy Vey!
What a week.
The roommates came home on Sunday.
My great uncle died on Monday.
A very incredible extended friend died on Tuesday.
I found out about Monday's death on Wednesday. The funeral is next Monday.
Boss Man fired the other office goddess on Thursday.
Sing with me: "It's Friday... I'm in love"
(I'm in a weird space today. Please don't hold anything I write against me.)
I messed around on HR Block this morning to see what kind of check I could expect... turns out I owe the state more than the fed is giving me back. Please keep in mind that I already paid the state as much as I paid the fed. Figure that one out. Yes, the same state that wont do anything to make Her Dad pay me a friggin dime in child support, but gives his lazy ass food stamps because he wont get a job! Basically I get to work my butt off to be responsible and pay my bills, and when I make more than they think a family of 2 should make I get to give them money to hand out to people who aren't even citizens or who choose not to work to support themselves, let alone their kids.
(ok off that soap box.)
I did finally buy wrecking balm, it's this tattoo fading system that seems to have a very good reputation. I'm a pretty skeptical person when it comes to advertising, but I've heard from people that I actually know who have experience with it so it came highly recommended. After going in for a consultation for laser tattoo removal, I decided that $250 is worth giving a shot. I have better things to spend 5 grand on, even though having two youthful indiscretions removed is most certainly high on my to do list before the wedding.
(note to those who may not understand tattoos: Permanent doesn't mean much when you're 18-19 years old.)
I am once again reminded that I truly am the girl most people love to hate. It seems, as a rule, people do not generally like me. Maybe it's my tattoos, Maybe it's my face, in some cases I know it's a false reputation superseding me. Maybe it's something that I am totally not conscious of. Whatever it is, it seems to be much easier for people who have never spent any real amount of time with me, to hate me first.
On a better note: tomorrow I am going with my mom and sister to try on dresses. no we haven't set a date. no we dont have a venue picked out. no it's not sounding like its even going to happen in 2009. but I'm still excited to go try on pretty white dresses!
May next week fare better than this has.
~cheers!
The roommates came home on Sunday.
My great uncle died on Monday.
A very incredible extended friend died on Tuesday.
I found out about Monday's death on Wednesday. The funeral is next Monday.
Boss Man fired the other office goddess on Thursday.
Sing with me: "It's Friday... I'm in love"
(I'm in a weird space today. Please don't hold anything I write against me.)
I messed around on HR Block this morning to see what kind of check I could expect... turns out I owe the state more than the fed is giving me back. Please keep in mind that I already paid the state as much as I paid the fed. Figure that one out. Yes, the same state that wont do anything to make Her Dad pay me a friggin dime in child support, but gives his lazy ass food stamps because he wont get a job! Basically I get to work my butt off to be responsible and pay my bills, and when I make more than they think a family of 2 should make I get to give them money to hand out to people who aren't even citizens or who choose not to work to support themselves, let alone their kids.
(ok off that soap box.)
I did finally buy wrecking balm, it's this tattoo fading system that seems to have a very good reputation. I'm a pretty skeptical person when it comes to advertising, but I've heard from people that I actually know who have experience with it so it came highly recommended. After going in for a consultation for laser tattoo removal, I decided that $250 is worth giving a shot. I have better things to spend 5 grand on, even though having two youthful indiscretions removed is most certainly high on my to do list before the wedding.
(note to those who may not understand tattoos: Permanent doesn't mean much when you're 18-19 years old.)
I am once again reminded that I truly am the girl most people love to hate. It seems, as a rule, people do not generally like me. Maybe it's my tattoos, Maybe it's my face, in some cases I know it's a false reputation superseding me. Maybe it's something that I am totally not conscious of. Whatever it is, it seems to be much easier for people who have never spent any real amount of time with me, to hate me first.
On a better note: tomorrow I am going with my mom and sister to try on dresses. no we haven't set a date. no we dont have a venue picked out. no it's not sounding like its even going to happen in 2009. but I'm still excited to go try on pretty white dresses!
May next week fare better than this has.
~cheers!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Finding Balance Between Man and Woman "Things"
"I Only Have To Cook and Clean?! SWEET!" was the original title...
But I my Mother, who won't read this anyway, would be deeply offended if I published that. She raised my sister and I to be very self-sufficent. "A girl can do anything a boy can do! Just buck-up and get it done." --- Thus, a short line of worthless "men" have streamed through her dining room, most of whom did not even know where the engine oil goes or how to start a lawn mower! (but show them an XBox or Playstation and they could be "busy" for days)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Obviously, I made it in to work today. My Love had to work so I had to drive myself this morning. I've been chauffeured for the past 3 days because his truck = BIG FORD, my truck = Girl Toyo, and well, I like it when he goes out of his way to take me where I need to go. It makes me feel loved and a little girly, which is nice sometimes.
Driving in was actually pretty fun! My girl truck will go anywhere and I have a renewed faith in myself, the Lord, and my ability to get around no matter what. I don't need no stinking man! ...
(but I love him and I will keep him always)
I like knowing that I can take care of my self. I can change a tire, fix a leaky pipe, hang a shelf, paint a room, and defend myself.
(there's more but I dont want to brag.) <--- = sarcasm, for those who missed it
(smile!)
But finding a Man who,
(1) works for a living
(2) takes care of "man things" at home
and
(3) appreciates my:
desire to learn "man things"
enthusiasm about getting my hands dirty
and doesnt mind that I'll throw down and defend him if I think I need to.
has given me a new appreciation for being a woman.
I hate it when guys treat women like they're weaker because they're women, then expect them to take care of everything while they play XBox or watch football or NASCAR. HELLO! Maybe I want to watch football and NASCAR!
(or go shopping for something besides groceries)
But letting a man act like a man, thus assuming the role of a woman (without becoming prissy and helpless), is not a bad thing. Finding that balance is ... refreshing!
Sometimes, even un-princessy girls like to know there is a big strong man who can (and will happily) take care of things that have traditionally been "Man Things". You know what I'm talking about... changing the oil in your girl truck, fixing broken things around the house, roping unruly horses (then getting drug like a water skier up the gravel driveway when said horses take off like a boat), getting up at 3 in the morning to get you a bottle of water because you woke up thirsty, driving you to work, then out to lunch, when there is 3 feet of snow on the ground... you know, "Man Things".
A man who is willing to do these "Man Things" deserves to have a respectably clean home, his feet and back rubbed, a home cooked meal (at least 4 nights a week), his lunch made in the morning (even if it's left overs), and clean folded laundry... you know, "Woman Things".
A few days a week I help load and unload 40 bales of hay, then get in the back of the truck and throw 4 bales of hay in the field; at least once a week he takes me out to dinner, occasionally he'll mate his own socks and fold the towels, or vaccume or something.
He takes care of me, I take care of him. It's all about balance.
~cheers!
But I my Mother, who won't read this anyway, would be deeply offended if I published that. She raised my sister and I to be very self-sufficent. "A girl can do anything a boy can do! Just buck-up and get it done." --- Thus, a short line of worthless "men" have streamed through her dining room, most of whom did not even know where the engine oil goes or how to start a lawn mower! (but show them an XBox or Playstation and they could be "busy" for days)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Obviously, I made it in to work today. My Love had to work so I had to drive myself this morning. I've been chauffeured for the past 3 days because his truck = BIG FORD, my truck = Girl Toyo, and well, I like it when he goes out of his way to take me where I need to go. It makes me feel loved and a little girly, which is nice sometimes.
Driving in was actually pretty fun! My girl truck will go anywhere and I have a renewed faith in myself, the Lord, and my ability to get around no matter what. I don't need no stinking man! ...
(but I love him and I will keep him always)
I like knowing that I can take care of my self. I can change a tire, fix a leaky pipe, hang a shelf, paint a room, and defend myself.
(there's more but I dont want to brag.) <--- = sarcasm, for those who missed it
(smile!)
But finding a Man who,
(1) works for a living
(2) takes care of "man things" at home
and
(3) appreciates my:
desire to learn "man things"
enthusiasm about getting my hands dirty
and doesnt mind that I'll throw down and defend him if I think I need to.
has given me a new appreciation for being a woman.
I hate it when guys treat women like they're weaker because they're women, then expect them to take care of everything while they play XBox or watch football or NASCAR. HELLO! Maybe I want to watch football and NASCAR!
(or go shopping for something besides groceries)
But letting a man act like a man, thus assuming the role of a woman (without becoming prissy and helpless), is not a bad thing. Finding that balance is ... refreshing!
Sometimes, even un-princessy girls like to know there is a big strong man who can (and will happily) take care of things that have traditionally been "Man Things". You know what I'm talking about... changing the oil in your girl truck, fixing broken things around the house, roping unruly horses (then getting drug like a water skier up the gravel driveway when said horses take off like a boat), getting up at 3 in the morning to get you a bottle of water because you woke up thirsty, driving you to work, then out to lunch, when there is 3 feet of snow on the ground... you know, "Man Things".
A man who is willing to do these "Man Things" deserves to have a respectably clean home, his feet and back rubbed, a home cooked meal (at least 4 nights a week), his lunch made in the morning (even if it's left overs), and clean folded laundry... you know, "Woman Things".
A few days a week I help load and unload 40 bales of hay, then get in the back of the truck and throw 4 bales of hay in the field; at least once a week he takes me out to dinner, occasionally he'll mate his own socks and fold the towels, or vaccume or something.
He takes care of me, I take care of him. It's all about balance.
~cheers!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Oh Crap! I forgot to check the mail
There is something very appropriate about SweetTarts being my favorite non-candy bar candy.
Snickers are my favorite candy bar.
My boss is a crazy man. He is very generous and funny most of the time. Perhaps crazy is not fair, we have similar personalities and I most certainly am not crazy.
(What?! I'm not...)
For some reason, when he is getting along with his wife he is mean to me. They fight a lot, today they are not fighting.
My love is letting me down more and more lately. It's kind of bumming me out. Last night he explained what's going on... "I got you hooked, now I can be my real self." While he was smiling when he said it, so NOT funny. Mostly because it's true. But the same goes for me I guess.
Little personality quirks come out once you live with someone. It's not always pretty, but we still love each other completely.
I'm not ready for Christmas.
I still don't know what to get my love, and for the first time that I'm aware of, I'm just not feelin' the Christmas spirit this year. Usually I've got tons of ideas and I'm rarin' to go shop and buy tons of well thought out gifts for everyone. This year I'm more like, tell me what you want and I'll go get it and put it in a pretty bag and call it good.
I'm not scroogin', I'm just not... Merry...
I've heard that life is what's happening while you're waiting for it to begin. This is very enlightening and all, but really I've been waiting to get married and settle down since I was in like 4th grade. I like my life, but I really want to buy a house and have my family now. Settled... Secure... you know, little things.
I'm very much stuck in the middle... but I don't know what I'm in the middle of. "Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right, here I am... stuck in the middle with you."
Why is it significantly easier for people to talk about all the bad things rather than the good things? There is definitely a stigma attached to talking about all of the wonderful blessings we have in our lives... it feels like bragging and no one wants to hear it.
Anne Rice, John Grisham and Danielle Steel, also rock!
Spike Lee does not rock... in fact I think he pretty much does exactly the opposite of rocking.
Same goes for the Governor of Illinois who tried to auction off Obama's Senatorial Seat. Mister Blagojevich you are the epitome of what is wrong with our country's political process. I hope you spend the rest of your life in a maximum security prison for the criminally insane. (no country club for you!)
Still enjoying the SweetTarts.
Yesterday, I ran 3 miles in 30 minutes on the elliptical.
Then I unloaded and stacked 40 bales of hay ~ with a hole in my hand (more on this), fed the horses, then made dinner and got all the laundry folded!
Yesterday was a good day.
This whole ring thing is bugging me more than I realised. I don't know why he took me ring shopping in the first place... I mean I do know, and his intentions were good, but the time is obviously not right and he needs to not buy it right now. So naturally I'm a little put off. Maybe I'm wrong but I'm disappointed, I know what his money picture looks like and if it meant that much to him... like if he really wanted to do it, he could.
eh... whatever... que sera sera, right?!
I have a dime sized hole in my hand, accompanying an eraser sized blister on my thumb. See, yesterday after I kicked ass at the gym I went to get my Christmas stuff out of storage and when I got there I realised the my love never checked the oil in my truck, which likely explained the horrible sound the engine was making. So after I loaded up all my Christmas boxes I popped the hood and pulled out the dip-stick (the one for the oil, not my soon to be step-son) and sure enough... it was EMPTY!!!! I had ZERO oil in the 1 year old engine of my 15 year old pickup! So I, genius that I am, tried in vain to get the oil cap off the engine so I could add a quart - which was all that I had in the truck because when you have a man as handy as mine it becomes no longer your job to make sure the truck has oil in it. But the engine was still too hot, so the cap was suctioned on and wouldn't move. So I'm standing on the brush guard, in my gym clothes, bent over under the hood, grunting and gripping and trying as hard as I can to get the damn thing to come loose, and instead I got a HUGE blister on my hand. A blister that eventually tore open and started weeping and stinging because the engine compartment (or actually, the entire truck) needs a serious bath in degreaser. So, finally feeling defeated (which I hate) I went to the storage place office and shamefully asked if a man was available to assist me. Which got me one of those sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-looks. But when I explained what happened and showed her the weeping blister she immediately wiped the sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-look off her face, and sent her assistant out to help me. He, of course, got the cap off like he was opening a plastic jar of peanut butter... (of course he did!)
I've decided that when making up words, like princessey, it's ok to not worry about spelling.
Running out of SweetTarts
oooh! Peppermint Tea
Cheers!
Snickers are my favorite candy bar.
My boss is a crazy man. He is very generous and funny most of the time. Perhaps crazy is not fair, we have similar personalities and I most certainly am not crazy.
(What?! I'm not...)
For some reason, when he is getting along with his wife he is mean to me. They fight a lot, today they are not fighting.
My love is letting me down more and more lately. It's kind of bumming me out. Last night he explained what's going on... "I got you hooked, now I can be my real self." While he was smiling when he said it, so NOT funny. Mostly because it's true. But the same goes for me I guess.
Little personality quirks come out once you live with someone. It's not always pretty, but we still love each other completely.
I'm not ready for Christmas.
I still don't know what to get my love, and for the first time that I'm aware of, I'm just not feelin' the Christmas spirit this year. Usually I've got tons of ideas and I'm rarin' to go shop and buy tons of well thought out gifts for everyone. This year I'm more like, tell me what you want and I'll go get it and put it in a pretty bag and call it good.
I'm not scroogin', I'm just not... Merry...
I've heard that life is what's happening while you're waiting for it to begin. This is very enlightening and all, but really I've been waiting to get married and settle down since I was in like 4th grade. I like my life, but I really want to buy a house and have my family now. Settled... Secure... you know, little things.
I'm very much stuck in the middle... but I don't know what I'm in the middle of. "Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right, here I am... stuck in the middle with you."
Why is it significantly easier for people to talk about all the bad things rather than the good things? There is definitely a stigma attached to talking about all of the wonderful blessings we have in our lives... it feels like bragging and no one wants to hear it.
The other night we talked about the trick of literature in eliminating the unessential, so that we are given a concentrated dose of life. I said almost indignantly, “It’s a deception and the cause of much disappointment. One reads books and expects life to be just as full of interest and intensity.And, of course, it isn’t so. There are many dull moments in between,and they, too, are natural. You, in your writing, have played the same trick. I expected all our talks to be feverish, portentous. I expected you always drunk, and always delirious. Then when we lived together for a few days, we fell into a profound, quiet, natural rhythm.” – pp 170 ~ Henry and June by Anais NinAnais Nin Rocks! or did rock, she's deceased, but her writing lives, therefore she continues to rock.
Anne Rice, John Grisham and Danielle Steel, also rock!
Spike Lee does not rock... in fact I think he pretty much does exactly the opposite of rocking.
Same goes for the Governor of Illinois who tried to auction off Obama's Senatorial Seat. Mister Blagojevich you are the epitome of what is wrong with our country's political process. I hope you spend the rest of your life in a maximum security prison for the criminally insane. (no country club for you!)
Still enjoying the SweetTarts.
Yesterday, I ran 3 miles in 30 minutes on the elliptical.
Then I unloaded and stacked 40 bales of hay ~ with a hole in my hand (more on this), fed the horses, then made dinner and got all the laundry folded!
Yesterday was a good day.
This whole ring thing is bugging me more than I realised. I don't know why he took me ring shopping in the first place... I mean I do know, and his intentions were good, but the time is obviously not right and he needs to not buy it right now. So naturally I'm a little put off. Maybe I'm wrong but I'm disappointed, I know what his money picture looks like and if it meant that much to him... like if he really wanted to do it, he could.
eh... whatever... que sera sera, right?!
I have a dime sized hole in my hand, accompanying an eraser sized blister on my thumb. See, yesterday after I kicked ass at the gym I went to get my Christmas stuff out of storage and when I got there I realised the my love never checked the oil in my truck, which likely explained the horrible sound the engine was making. So after I loaded up all my Christmas boxes I popped the hood and pulled out the dip-stick (the one for the oil, not my soon to be step-son) and sure enough... it was EMPTY!!!! I had ZERO oil in the 1 year old engine of my 15 year old pickup! So I, genius that I am, tried in vain to get the oil cap off the engine so I could add a quart - which was all that I had in the truck because when you have a man as handy as mine it becomes no longer your job to make sure the truck has oil in it. But the engine was still too hot, so the cap was suctioned on and wouldn't move. So I'm standing on the brush guard, in my gym clothes, bent over under the hood, grunting and gripping and trying as hard as I can to get the damn thing to come loose, and instead I got a HUGE blister on my hand. A blister that eventually tore open and started weeping and stinging because the engine compartment (or actually, the entire truck) needs a serious bath in degreaser. So, finally feeling defeated (which I hate) I went to the storage place office and shamefully asked if a man was available to assist me. Which got me one of those sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-looks. But when I explained what happened and showed her the weeping blister she immediately wiped the sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-look off her face, and sent her assistant out to help me. He, of course, got the cap off like he was opening a plastic jar of peanut butter... (of course he did!)
I've decided that when making up words, like princessey, it's ok to not worry about spelling.
Running out of SweetTarts
oooh! Peppermint Tea
Cheers!
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I May Not Be Girly But I'm Still A Girl!
Oh Drat!
I just finished reading Clever Girl's post "Justify My Love", in her own unknowing way she totally explained what I have been doing for the past week and a half. I over analyze EVERYTHING and it's making my love a little irritated. OK, a lot irritated, and I do believe I've pushed him to the point where I'm going to cause a fight.
I don't quite know how to tell him that I need to hear that he still thinks I'm beautiful... and that he shouldn't tell me I can talk to him then change the subject or, worse, not hear a thing I've said when I do (my love, just because you dont agree or don't understand, doesnt mean I dont need to be heard)... I require one real kiss every day, preferably after I've brushed my teeth just prior to going to bed (the ultimate night cap in my opinion)...and he must cuddle with me. There is no negotiating, if he sleeps in my bed he must cuddle with me at some point during our sleep, be it while falling asleep or during the snooze 15, he must cuddle.
My love is super wonderful in so many ways I can not begin to list them all. He just lacks a bit in the intimacy department which, given his high marks in nearly every other category, I am slowly learning to accept (however, it does build up, occasionally manifesting into crabby time that I can neither control nor rationally explain.)
No one is perfect, and he has been pretty darn close thus far.
So lately he's thinking I'm losing it, obviously he needs to read up on what it's like to have the mind of a girl. He is not very understanding when it comes to things such as these, at least I don't think he is. He tends to laugh it off or just ailenate himself (not really helping in the lack of intamicy department) He better learn quick! He has me, two almost teenagers of his own, and my little girl... the poor guy doesn't stand a chance.
I just finished reading Clever Girl's post "Justify My Love", in her own unknowing way she totally explained what I have been doing for the past week and a half. I over analyze EVERYTHING and it's making my love a little irritated. OK, a lot irritated, and I do believe I've pushed him to the point where I'm going to cause a fight.
I don't quite know how to tell him that I need to hear that he still thinks I'm beautiful... and that he shouldn't tell me I can talk to him then change the subject or, worse, not hear a thing I've said when I do (my love, just because you dont agree or don't understand, doesnt mean I dont need to be heard)... I require one real kiss every day, preferably after I've brushed my teeth just prior to going to bed (the ultimate night cap in my opinion)...and he must cuddle with me. There is no negotiating, if he sleeps in my bed he must cuddle with me at some point during our sleep, be it while falling asleep or during the snooze 15, he must cuddle.
My love is super wonderful in so many ways I can not begin to list them all. He just lacks a bit in the intimacy department which, given his high marks in nearly every other category, I am slowly learning to accept (however, it does build up, occasionally manifesting into crabby time that I can neither control nor rationally explain.)
No one is perfect, and he has been pretty darn close thus far.
So lately he's thinking I'm losing it, obviously he needs to read up on what it's like to have the mind of a girl. He is not very understanding when it comes to things such as these, at least I don't think he is. He tends to laugh it off or just ailenate himself (not really helping in the lack of intamicy department) He better learn quick! He has me, two almost teenagers of his own, and my little girl... the poor guy doesn't stand a chance.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Monkey Learns a Life Lesson
Monkey loves to play dress-up. So, last weekend, when she came to me with her big hazel puppy dog eyes and said "Mommy, can I play dress up? pleasepleaseplease." I knew she was expecting my standard "No", because she has yet to master the skill of getting the dress-up clothes back in the trunk when it's time to clean up. When I said, "Sure, as long as your room is clean." She bounced through the kitchen like I just told her we were going to meet Hannah Montana, which was exactly the response I was hoping for. I love it when she gets excited about little things... I believe that is why she was put on this earth... to make me pull my hair out and fill my heart with joy.
She loves to get dressed up and come out to the living room and pose like she's on a runway. Scarves and purses draped over her arms. Disney Princess dresses, plastic high heels, braclets, sparkling plastic clip on jewels. Pushing a stroller with a stuffed puppy or her Cabbage Patch Baby. She even dresses up her giant Eeyore and Care Bear then hosts tea parties. I LOVE IT!
I'm not girly. I tried to keep up with "princess", and I'm constantly comparing myself to my love's beautiful friends (and trying to smile politely). I like to use my hands, so acryllic nails are totally pointless, my hair wont hold curl and when I get all prettied up I dont feel like me. I never have been one for tights or nylons and dresses and staying out of the mud. I really enjoy spending time getting pretty, but inevitably my hair goes flat in the truck on the way to whatever event made me dare the hot rollers, or if by chance I'm wearing a dress and heels, a horse will escape the barn when we're in the drive way or some other ranch related emergency will transpire and the next thing I know I'll be covered in hay with muddy shoes.... needless to say as long as I have my flat iron, I'm good in jeans and a cute top.
Monkey, on the other hand, is the girliest girl. She loves to play outside with the puppies, but she hates it when they get her dirty (we live on a swamp/ranch so imagine how often she comes in the house wanting to change because one of the puppies jumped on her) She loves tights and dresses and pretty shiny shoes. She loves make-up and frilly things, but she's not so big on pretty hair. The poor girl was cursed with my super fine hair that doesn't hold a curl or a style or even a clip most of the time and, when it's knotty, brushing it feels like someone is pulling your hair out a few at a time. The other day, I was trying to brush a rather sticky knot out, she started crying because it hurt. I told her that sometimes getting pretty hurts and looked up at me and said "Well then I don't want to get pretty, it's no fun!"
She has NO idea!
She loves to get dressed up and come out to the living room and pose like she's on a runway. Scarves and purses draped over her arms. Disney Princess dresses, plastic high heels, braclets, sparkling plastic clip on jewels. Pushing a stroller with a stuffed puppy or her Cabbage Patch Baby. She even dresses up her giant Eeyore and Care Bear then hosts tea parties. I LOVE IT!
I'm not girly. I tried to keep up with "princess", and I'm constantly comparing myself to my love's beautiful friends (and trying to smile politely). I like to use my hands, so acryllic nails are totally pointless, my hair wont hold curl and when I get all prettied up I dont feel like me. I never have been one for tights or nylons and dresses and staying out of the mud. I really enjoy spending time getting pretty, but inevitably my hair goes flat in the truck on the way to whatever event made me dare the hot rollers, or if by chance I'm wearing a dress and heels, a horse will escape the barn when we're in the drive way or some other ranch related emergency will transpire and the next thing I know I'll be covered in hay with muddy shoes.... needless to say as long as I have my flat iron, I'm good in jeans and a cute top.
Monkey, on the other hand, is the girliest girl. She loves to play outside with the puppies, but she hates it when they get her dirty (we live on a swamp/ranch so imagine how often she comes in the house wanting to change because one of the puppies jumped on her) She loves tights and dresses and pretty shiny shoes. She loves make-up and frilly things, but she's not so big on pretty hair. The poor girl was cursed with my super fine hair that doesn't hold a curl or a style or even a clip most of the time and, when it's knotty, brushing it feels like someone is pulling your hair out a few at a time. The other day, I was trying to brush a rather sticky knot out, she started crying because it hurt. I told her that sometimes getting pretty hurts and looked up at me and said "Well then I don't want to get pretty, it's no fun!"
She has NO idea!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
A Trip Through The Spaghetti
Happy Random Thursday!
So many things are going on, few of them in any sort of normal context to each other. Just a continuous stream of hodgepodge thoughts flowing through me today...
I learned last night that my cousin is going to be a daddy. I'm really excited for him, he's going to be a GREAT daddy. Part of me has a twinge jealous, because I don't ever get to experience happy baby making... you know, the kind where both people love each other and while they didn't necessarily plan to make a baby they are both delighted and scared but able to share the experience together and it is ultimately a wonderful thing? Yeah, I don't get to do that. And it only recently became apparent to my subconscious that I may want to experience that, but it's just not in the cards. And I think I'm OK with that... or I will keep telling myself that until I'm back in "I definitely don't want to ever be pregnant again" mode.
About a month ago my love and I were sitting in my parent's living room and some where conversation shifted to our kids and how neither one of us get child support, and I said "That's because we both procreated with stupid people." I'm pretty notorious for making offhanded comments such as these. Sometimes they're funny, as in this case (even Dad started laughing), sometimes not so much.
I tend to make a really bad first impression when I meet people. a) because I'm pretty quiet around new people, I don't open up right away and typically need someone I'm oober comfortable around to help through the initial getting to know you stuff, or b) because I'm super chillaxed with close friends and make a one of my offhanded comments that people who know me are so incredibly used to and I end up offending people who don't know me.
I try to be friendly to people I don't know, I'm just not so good at the talking to strangers anymore. I don't know what happened but somewhere in my early 20's I developed this social awkwardness that I cant seem to shake. This awkwardness has turned me into a bit of a homebody again. I'm thinking semi-drastic measures may be necessary... seriously!
A girl at the bar once told a friend of mine that I look mean! That was her first impression. I didn't even have the chance to be sarcastic, or behave in that sometimes crude, "guy" way that most of the time is OK, but occasionally annoys my love to pieces. Without me so much as uttering a word in her direction, I honestly hadn't even noticed her, she looked at me and decided I was mean...? I'm sorry but WTF? I don't have the Gothic thing going, I'm just an average chick in a t-shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots... Is it my tattoos? Is it my face? What is it about me that would make a person assume that I am mean based soley on my looks?
... Note To Self: Don't assume that girl is a beeotch just because she passed judgement on you. Maybe she's really nice, like you are, and there is actually a reason that she knows your friend well enough to tell him that you look mean.... (eh... or not!)
I believe what you've just read is a perfect example of what I lovingly refer to as Spaghetti Brain.
So many things are going on, few of them in any sort of normal context to each other. Just a continuous stream of hodgepodge thoughts flowing through me today...
I learned last night that my cousin is going to be a daddy. I'm really excited for him, he's going to be a GREAT daddy. Part of me has a twinge jealous, because I don't ever get to experience happy baby making... you know, the kind where both people love each other and while they didn't necessarily plan to make a baby they are both delighted and scared but able to share the experience together and it is ultimately a wonderful thing? Yeah, I don't get to do that. And it only recently became apparent to my subconscious that I may want to experience that, but it's just not in the cards. And I think I'm OK with that... or I will keep telling myself that until I'm back in "I definitely don't want to ever be pregnant again" mode.
About a month ago my love and I were sitting in my parent's living room and some where conversation shifted to our kids and how neither one of us get child support, and I said "That's because we both procreated with stupid people." I'm pretty notorious for making offhanded comments such as these. Sometimes they're funny, as in this case (even Dad started laughing), sometimes not so much.
I tend to make a really bad first impression when I meet people. a) because I'm pretty quiet around new people, I don't open up right away and typically need someone I'm oober comfortable around to help through the initial getting to know you stuff, or b) because I'm super chillaxed with close friends and make a one of my offhanded comments that people who know me are so incredibly used to and I end up offending people who don't know me.
I try to be friendly to people I don't know, I'm just not so good at the talking to strangers anymore. I don't know what happened but somewhere in my early 20's I developed this social awkwardness that I cant seem to shake. This awkwardness has turned me into a bit of a homebody again. I'm thinking semi-drastic measures may be necessary... seriously!
A girl at the bar once told a friend of mine that I look mean! That was her first impression. I didn't even have the chance to be sarcastic, or behave in that sometimes crude, "guy" way that most of the time is OK, but occasionally annoys my love to pieces. Without me so much as uttering a word in her direction, I honestly hadn't even noticed her, she looked at me and decided I was mean...? I'm sorry but WTF? I don't have the Gothic thing going, I'm just an average chick in a t-shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots... Is it my tattoos? Is it my face? What is it about me that would make a person assume that I am mean based soley on my looks?
... Note To Self: Don't assume that girl is a beeotch just because she passed judgement on you. Maybe she's really nice, like you are, and there is actually a reason that she knows your friend well enough to tell him that you look mean.... (eh... or not!)
I believe what you've just read is a perfect example of what I lovingly refer to as Spaghetti Brain.
So, I'm really excited about tonight. We never go out anymore and we are venturing out to see Jake Owen...SWEET! I love live music, especially at the bar because it feels so much more personal than in a big arena or festival. Plus, my Sis and her hubby are going with us, which is cause for excitement in itself because they never go out. So YAY!
cheers!
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