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Sweet Home Indiana

Sunday, April 28, 2013

 
No that is not the correct lyrics to the song you're thinking of, but it fits, and if you ask any hoosier they have replace the word "Alabama" with "Indiana" at least once in their life. Anyways... I'm am SO excited to flying out this week to head back to the place where I am from. Wanna know what I am looking forward to doing this week? I thought so..

I'm spending the first part of my trip visiting with my in-laws. They're a pretty cool bunch and things are bound to get a little rowdy.







The second part of my trip will involve me taking full advantage of my mother spoiling with all of my favorite food request(s) (my mom is a pretty amazing lady!). I'll also probably spend some time looking at antiques with my dad while sippin' on a few beers (I like to let him know what things I will be taking from him when I move closer to home...). 75% of the time at my parents house will involve sitting around the kitchen island telling my sweet sisters how much cooler I am than them. At some point my brother and oldest nephew (I can't believe he is 21!!!) will come over and undoubtedly spend most of the time picking on me. I don't care how old I get, this father/son duo will be flicking my forehead or pulling my hair until the day I die.
I used to love the picknic app


And because I can't go home without seeing some of the best frands a girl could ask for, I'll be enjoying some quality time with my loves as well.
 
((SIDE NOTE*** I meant to post this before I left, I have been enjoying wine and cuddles for a few days now!))


I Must Confess

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

I must confess some secrets, because I have nothing better to write about. My first confession: I am a slob. Don't get me wrong, I love a clean house, I just don't want to be the one to clean it. I miss my husband more and more every day... because every day my house becomes more and more cluttered. I'm not saying I live in a dirty bachelor(ette) pad house, I'm just saying the amount of dishes in my sink is embarrassing; especially if you consider the fact that I have a dishwasher (it's full of clean dishes I'm too lazy to put away...). I read somewhere that if you don't vacuum your house twice a week then it is not a clean house. Well if that is the truth, so be it. I clean a little here and there each day, but my devoted day is usually Tuesday. I wanted to remind my husband of this the other day and this was his response.
RUDE!
My next confession: not only is my house dirty (according to the vacuum Nazi), so is my language. I curse like a sailor. It's really quite lady like of me. OK maybe not. I try to blame this damn potty mouth on the fact that not only did I live with my sailor of a husband, but for two and half years I lived with one of my husband's coastie co -workers (and his wife). To be honest though, those two have nothing on my sailor mouth. The real blame is waiting tables for far too long and having to deal with the everyday public. That's right assholes! I blame all you ignorant eater-outers who don't know the proper etiquette of going out to eat!! (Confession #3 : I'm a scapegoat!)

Remember that childhood show "Are you afraid of the dark"? Even though that show has not been on for years, the answer is still the same. Yes, YES I am afraid of the dark. I'm 27 and being alone in the dark scares me. My husband got so fed up with me having to have the TV on every night, he bought me a night light. The night light is still plugged in, but the TV stays on, just for background noise, ya know? One night at work, after we were closed, I was waiting for my friend to finish up her paperwork. I told her I was going to use the restroom and I would meet her at the door for lock up. She apparently didn't relay this message to the rest of the closing crew. As I'm sitting there taking my sophisticated tinkle, it turns to pitch black. Panic immediately sets in and I scramble to pull my pants up. Since I only flush the toilet with my foot in public I decided to skip this step because it was so dark I was worried I might actually end up in there. Of course I chose to use the stall with the sticky door. Not only can I not see two inches in front of me, I can't figure out how to get out of this damn, dark restroom. Eventually I came barreling out (cursing the whole way), to be greeted by my co-workers responsible for turning off the lights. They were surprised to see my coming out of the restroom as they were on their way home.Apparently my friend didn't relay the message to them that I was still in the building. Since it is policy to leave as a team, I informed them no one was going anywhere until I washed my hands (it was the least they could do since they scared the shit out of me.).
It is perfectly normal to be afraid of the dark.. at 27..

Oh the list of confessions could go on and on, but I've been told I tend to over share. So I will end it on that note for now!

It is that time a year again...

Sunday, April 14, 2013


Not only has it officially been four months since that handsome husband of mine has been gone, it is also, officially time to carry sunscreen with me at all times. Have you seen the movie powder? That was actually a documentary of my twin brothers life, until well you know if you have seen it, you know the lightning gets him in the end. RIP Powder, RIP. In case you have not seen the movie, I'm basically trying to tell you the sun and I are not friends. I'm a nice pasty shade of white all year round... Except the one time of year (maybe twice) I christen summer by getting burnt to a crisp. Yep that happened today. Other than the hot flashes occurring due to my sun burn, this weekend was a pretty good one. I survived my shift at work on Friday without murdering anyone, and even got off a little early that night! After work I actually made an appearance at the bar which, I can't believe I'm about to say this, is a rare occurrence these days. It was a great night until we made our ride home pull over and take her pants off. Yep, you read that right. Poor thing accidentally stepped in puke when she went to the bathroom, and the smell was just too much to handle. Good thing we didn't get stopped at a checkpoint. Can you imagine that conversation? "Yes sir, I am sober; No sir I am not wearing pants...”.

Saturday was a real productive day of lying around on the couch with my weekend roommate Amanda, watching movies, and discussing all types of weird and awkward things. I did manage to take a shower and head out to dinner with some of my favorite ladies and one adorable little guy. On Sunday I actually set my alarm to wake up early. This is not something I plan on making a habit. However, Amanda and I promised our friend we would come to one of his soccer games, last year, and never made it. He informed us Friday night, that Sunday was his last game of this year’s season. We thought it was a good time to make good on our promise from last year. While it was great soccer mom practice, we failed to bring the bug spray and sunscreen #Amateursoccermoms. An hour and half later we had been eaten alive, sun burnt, and listening to a very upset young man telling us why they lost the game. We promptly told him he played great, better luck next year, and then left on the field to drink beer with the rest of his team. This is what it’s like in real life for soccer moms, right? RIGHT? OK good. It's nice to know summer is around the corner, and that bug spray and sun screen are officially a staple in my purse again! Cheers...


RIP Powder. Being Vitamin D deficient sucks...

oh I love them!

Can you tell I was wearing a necklace today?

Rhonda.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

My friend Kimberly told me that people who get up early tend to be more productive. This makes total sense to me. On days that I have to get up early (and yes by early, I mean before noon) I actually do enjoy it, once I wake up. The problem I have with getting up early is to blame on my alter ego, I like to refer to her as Rhonda.
Rhonda is mean Y'all!
You see, I want to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but Rhonda refuses to let me go to sleep at a reasonable hour, even when my eyelids are so heavy and my body is screaming "Rhonda! You bitch take me to bed!". Rhonda does not give in. When it's just Rhonda and I hanging out at home by our self she becomes obsessed with watching t.v. I've tried explaining to her the DVR and that we can find out if Janelle and Keifer get back together, or if snookie and that Italian midget break off their engagement tomorrow, but she fights me on this every time. When I'm hanging out with friends having a great time and decide that maybe it's time to call it a night, guess what happens? Rhonda takes over and is scared she might miss something so she makes us the last person up... even if the sun is rising..

Not only does Rhonda keep me from going to sleep, that skank has made me fat. I'm all like "Rhonda, get off your lazy ass and exercise for us." and she just laughs while washing down that brick of cheese with a box of wine.
Rhonda is going to hell for posting this picture..
So back to being productive, since Rhonda doesn't allow me to wake up early without a fight, I have decided that I will make a daily to-do list that MUST be accomplished before Rhonda comes back. I love making lists and I don't know why I have not done it before. I need to physically see what needs to be done on a piece of paper for some reason to help me organize my thoughts.

Today's list was mostly accomplished. I did clean house but decided to to just make Stella an appointment at the spa (her pedicure is chipping), and I will vacuum while she is gone (she is terrified of the vacuum). I also didn't make it to target. Which is probably a good thing because Rhonda takes over there and spends wayyyyyy too much money. And to be honest Rhonda showed up and rewarded us with a nap, which is why it is almost 2 a.m. and we're still up. DAMN IT RHONDA!!

Akward Moments...

Monday, April 1, 2013

I'm really good at them. It started when I was younger and my dad brought home a very wealthy, very successful CEO friend of his for dinner. I put on my best private school girl behavior. When this man asked what I liked to do for fun I decided to show him. And right there at the dinner table, as my parents crawled under it, I proudly burped the ABC's for this man. In case you are trying to picture this, please add the afro-puff bangs to your imagination. Two points were awarded to my extremely quiet sister Jennifer that night...

my permed bangs were gettin it during kickball!
I've always been quite the performer...
Then there was that one time in class when the teacher asked me to come down from my back row seat (it is where I did my best napping learning) and do a chemistry problem on the blackboard. I stood up and started down the stairs (it was held in a lecture hall), after about two steps I lost balance and somersaulted all the way down the rest. I stood up, completely mortified, and walked directly back to my seat without making eye contact with anyone. The teacher promptly called on someone else and no one said a word to me... AwKwArD.
as if highschool is not awkward enough... I decided looking like ermagherd girl was a good idea

Another good one was when I had been out to the bar and might have possibly had one too many shots. On the way home I instructed my girlfriend to pullover or I was going to projectile vomit all over her car. In between my puke session I asked for a napkin. My friend handed me what I thought was a napkin and I started to clean myself up. Except there was a slight problem. The napkin she handed me was stuck to my face. Turns out she didn't have a napkin, so she improvised, she handed me a maxi pad. I'm sure this is a moment my parents would be proud of.

And lets talk about that time I was on my second date with my now husband. We were walking into his house to watch a movie. He lived in the epitome of a bachelor pad. I'm honestly not sure how many people were actually living in this house, but I do know someone had turned the front porch into a bedroom and was living out there (no joke).  Anywho... we parked in the alley full of potholes and started walking through the jungle  backyard. I was trying really hard to concentrate on not tripping over the sorry excuse for stepping stones, also known as cynder blocks (side note: I may have been drinking, please at least pretend to be shocked.), and that is when it happened. I *tooted*, it happened, there was no turning back, and it was so loud, there was no denying it either. I just kept walking and hoped he hadn't noticed. We went in and watched our movie and then I went home. The next day he actually called me, so I assumed I was in the clear and he had missed that little ugly pass of gas. We have been married for almost three years now and it is his favorite story to tell to people. Turns out, he was just being nice..
our first picture together
Oh, and then sometimes, awkward things happen at work. I had been referring to one of our regulars for almost a year as the "lifetime serial killer", lifetime for short. I know, I know, it was not a nice thing to do, but it was true. He had that "really good looking, look at me I'm wearing a suit and want to put you in my basement" look going for him. I of course never called him this to his face, I just stared at him from a far (OK, maybe I'm the creepy one). Then one day I went to refill his ice tea or something and he looks at me and says "aren't you the one that refers to me as the lifetime serial rapist?".  Holy awkward. At this point I didn't know what to do. I panicked and did what I thought seemed right. I corrected him and told him it was serial killer, not rapist, and promptly looked at his real name on the credit card sticking out (hey, if he was gonna come after me I should at least know his real name). Thankfully he told me is was step up from what he is normally referred to and it has been painfully awkward every time I've seen him since.
this is a stupid picture but whatever..I'm tired and it works... kind of...


This is just a glimpse at how incredibly awkward I can be. Stick around and I'll share some more...
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