oh you fancy huh?

Dear Apple,
I honestly hope someone from your company reads this. I will admit, I loved your first 3 generations of iPhones. I am a phone whore, I always have to have the newest, coolest, most amazing gadget. You have seriously seriously let me down with this iPhone 4. Not only did I sit in a Panera for close to 3 hours trying to pre-order what would "change everything...again" but I also made a co-worker/trainee go to my house the day it was delivered and pick it up to make sure it didn't get stolen off my front porch. What do I get for my loyalty and enthusiasm about your product? A piece of absolute shit. I would take my 2002 Nokia phone that had tha "Snake" game on it over this hunk of junk. I'm seriously hoping that maybe, just maybe the 2 iPhone 4s I've had (first one was replaced due to sensitivity issues with the proximity sensor) just happened to be bad eggs. Other people I've talked to absolutely love theirs. I had the first one replaced at an Apple Store (yes, it was easy to do, but this shouldn't be happening in the first place). On 80% of the calls I was making my face decided to hang up, mute, add calls, attempt to facetime, send random texts, add random callers to the calls I was currently on. I know we'd all like to blame this on me not being able to hold a phone correctly, but since I handled the other phones without any problems I don't think the blame lies on me. So anyway. I get my 2nd iPhone 4 from the Apple Store, swapped out with only a minor interrogation. Everything is somewhat good, I didn't have nearly as many issues with the sensor until one day I accidentally dropped it onto a driveway. The front screen looked as if I'd run over it with a car...twice. I had it repaired (gorilla glass? not quite) for the bargain price of $200. And that brings me to my current predicament. Not only does my camera "lens" fail to open (and who are we kidding, there is no lens, cute thought, but next time just make it so the damn thing works)but the top part of my phone screen no longer responds to anything. If I try and click on anything on the top sliver of my phone screen absolutely nothing happens....seriously? This is the best you can do? I understand that at the end of the day, it's an electronic device and sometimes things don't work the way they're supposed to. I'll give you one more shot Apple, you have strikes 1 and 2...don't make me cross an iPad off my Christmas list.
Hugs and kisses,
Jordan

come pick me up...

and here I went and got cocky about 2 posts in one week. I swear I looked up 3 days later and its already been a month. I will say I've been crazy busy between a trip to see my favorites in Gulf Shores, bachelorette parties, and the start of college football. I'm pretty sure I either pissed off or scared the other patrons of the bachelorette party last weekend...I kept looking over some of their shoulders to the TV that was positioned in my view (yes, I strategically planned this) and would start to yell out and then realize where I was and just kinda sound like a battered puppy. Once the game went into overtime I was done, I just grabbed my beer and walked in to stand (or pace, whatever) and watch the lucky end to that game. I came back to the table and sat down like nothing happened...was I smooth? probably not, but that's how I roll.

obviously, it was not my bachelorette party. however. once I googled bachelorette party this image came up. And I decided I wanted it. Katie, take notes.

the highlight of my trip to gulf shores was certainly seeing my two favorite people again for longer than 10 minutes but also being the college football set up that me and puddin' (yes, I call him puddin') set up while Claire was out running with the dog. Please note that while Claire (the sensible one, who my mom wishes was her child) is out exercising with their dog, me and her husband are trying to figure out a way to set up the spare TV on their porch so as to enjoy the day outside without missing anything from the games that we wanted to see. It's like that saying, I'm outdoorsy in that I like drinking on patios...that pretty much sums it up for me. Anyone who knows me knows this. So while we were setting up our fortress o' football, Drew's mom called. He told her what we were doing, Claire running, me and him already drinking (I'm pretty sure it was 1 EST at this point, so in all honesty I was behind for the first gameday of the year) and her only comment was "well, that sounds about right." Sooooo proud.

you've got a fast car

2 posts in one week? to what do we owe this pleasure you ask? Well, I'm just trying to keep myself awake at work today and ran out of things to do. Monday I found myself working at an undisclosed location in east bumble, Georgia with who I so lovingly refer to as Dr. McDreamy (behind his back, of course). With this being a Monday morning, most would expect me to be pouting, cranky, and half asleep until 9:30. I was actually in a relatively good mood. I was working with McDreamy and I'd probably be done by noon so I could go do important things like get my oil changed, perhaps run by Target, maybe even wash my car if there was time (we'll talk more about my car in a minute)...this was a good day. 14 hours later, when I was in the same spot with 58 degree temperatures, I was no longer singing the Cinderella theme song while imagining woodland creatures dancing on my shoulder as I skipped merrily through the forest. Instead, all I could think about was whether or not I was going to attempt to gnaw off my left arm or wait until I could hijack the nearest fast food place. McDreamy had lost his sparkle; and I was tired, hungry, and cranky...just ask my family how well this scenario usually works out....
the good news is I got in bed only 21 hours after I had woken up, I eventually ate, and the world was a happy place again...until 7:28 Tuesday morning.
The black stallion (my car) arrived approximately 2 minutes early to chauffeur the duchess to the airport for her flight to South America. I'm already planning my day when I'm about to pull in her driveway. I note that her trash can is out, so I may want to not smack into that. I also note that a car is coming towards me, so I slow down so I can still swing out wide to get in between said trash can and the brick steps/hand rail. I slow down, jackass slows down. I sit there annoyed with my blinker on trying to show this guy that I'm trying to make a right turn I mean come onnnnnnnnnnnnnn. He doesn't move. Now. Here is where I made my tragic mistake. Instead of being PATIENT and waiting for this gentleman to move, I get pissed. I forget for a splitttttttttttt second that I drive an SUV. Not a matchbox car. I slam my car into the driveway and promptly run the entire length of my rear passenger door and trunk area down her wrought-iron handrails. Now. My first thought is, "uhh, did I hit the trashcan?" I get out, realize the trashcan is still chilling my the side of the road. Then I get a little nervous. My second thought was "OH SHIT, replacing that railing is really going to be expensive, I guess I should probably return everything I bought at GAP last weekend." I was honestly relieved that the only damage was on my car, because I'm a moron and deserved it. After I got over that my next thought was a pattern of several curse words that would have caused my mother to wash my mouth out with soap (yes, she did this to me on more than one occasion...see how well that worked out?) UGH. Not a great start to the week. I had an estimate done on it yesterday and the guy told me it would be just under a thousand dollars to fix. Now, we all know I laughed at him and walked out, but I'm planning on taking it to a few more places to see what other kinds of numbers I get. In the meantime, I'm holding on to knowing that my week WILL get better. Jack Johnson in concert on Friday. Yes, please.

carolina in my mind

I originally was going to title this entry after the timeless classic by Petey Pablo "north carolina, come and and raise up" but wasn't sure how many people would understand my love of rap music from the early 2000s. So I went with the old standby James Taylor. But anyway- the fam and I just returned (well, like almost a month ago now, but I've been busy) from our 17th (or 18th...there was some debate on this) year of going to the outer banks in NC. We go with another family we used to live near in Connecticut. I think we're all a little surprised we're still going after all these years, but even with big kid jobs, spouses (i'm talking to you Grady), and college we all always seem to make it for at the very least a couple days. Things have changed a little bit over the years, instead of sand castles and juice boxes its become beer and books, but it's always an adventure. I remember one year, I'm thinking I was 11 or 12 and it was probably around 11 or 12 at night.
We were on our way back from riding our bikes to the grocery store (busy 2 lane highway? no problems, beeeee carefulllll kidsssssssss, look both ways, mommy loves you). That particular year another family came, and they had 3 older boys. One of them decided he would sneak into the community pool and go skinny dipping. We all thought this would be hilarious and stood outside the gates giggling. I don't remember if the police car had its lights flashing or not, but I do remember thinking that my life was over, and I was going to jail. I mean, was I going to lose my citizenship award I had just received from my school in June? The police ended up escorting us back to our house, bicycles and all, where I was convinced my parents were going to kill me. We were let go into our parents custody (where the interaction went something like this so I'm told):
Police: Do you know where your children are?
Parentals: Hellooooooo occifer. Tank you.
I ran immediately into my room and climbed under the covers of my top bunk. Finally my mom came in and told me it wasn't a big deal, to calm down, life was not over, I would not lose my citizenship award, and frankly she was glad to see me get in a little bit of trouble. She probably regretted saying that when my teen/college years approached not too far afterwards, but then again my halo is always shining so brightly she may not have ever noticed....
Even with classic memories like that I have to say that this year was probably the most fun we've had in a long time...might I dare say ever? Night one was epic. First of all, anyone who has known me for more than an hour knows that I do NOT shake my tail feathers unless I have consumed an ungodly amount of liquid courage. I blame my mother for this..if ONLY she had enrolled me in darla's duchess dance classes maybe, just maybe......
Back to the beach. It was raining, so instead of being able to lounge on the sand, we were confined to the house. This lead to an much larger than normal intake of adult beverages. We ate dinner at the usual time of 10pm when someone made the crucial yet annual mistake of bringing up politics/heath care/whatever the hell it was we were arguing about. About 2.5 seconds into this discussion and after hearing myself slur something about health care; I looked at the other girls and we decided to go onto the deck with the iPod and speakers.
I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood either saw or heard the commotion coming from our back deck. I know at one point there was one family crowded around their kitchen sink window watching the dance off. I was slightly humiliated until they showed up on the beach the next day in speedos...game, set, match, I win. Although this is how all 12 of us look on the beach from about 10am-7pm, so it might be a toss up.
It was most definitely memorable, even if some parts needed to put back together in my mind through photographs. Every time I hear the Cupid Shuffle I have to smile a little bit and think "JESUS TRACY WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE JUST FORCED ME TO GO TO DANCE CLASS INSTEAD OF GIVING ME LITTLE BOY HAIRCUTS."

things ain't good but things ain't boring...

My new idea for this lovely window to my life is to have the title of each post be a quote from a song. No, I'm not being philosophical or deep or whatever you want to call it. I just dread thinking of a title and figure you can never go wrong with lyrics. And yes, I know ain't is not a word. Thanks in advance for your concern.
It's been a busy couple weeks in ATL. We had father/daughter weekend over Father's Day with some close family friends from Chattanooga. It involved lots of drinking, a Braves games, and theft of private property.
It sounded like a great idea to borrow a piece of stone from a restaurant patio pillar (it WAS loose and we did tell the staff about it, they seemed about as interested in it as I am in going to the dentist) and it ended up as the new charming centerpiece for my patio furniture. I had actually forgotten about it until I saw two police officers in the back of my building looking around and trying to see on my neighbors deck. For about 3 minutes, I was convinced they were coming to get me for that stupid piece of stone. After my mild panic attack which consisted of running from the front of the house to the back, opening blinds and peering out while concentrating on remembering to breath, I realized how ridiculous I was acting and calmed down. (opening/closing blinds and peering out? smooth move, I'm sure you didn't look suspicious at all...note to self, don't become a hardened criminal). I never did quite figure out what they were there for, I always thought that house was sketchy...

theft of rock

rock taking its rightful place in kitchen before it was moved its current home on patio

I also had a relapse into my severe addiction to online shopping. I was doing really well since Ms. Sharon, the concierge in the condo o' luxury who had the pleasure of signing for all my packages, would look at me and say "Jor-an, I am going to come up there and unplug your computer if you keep buying stuff on ebay." When I tried to explain that I'm actually doing BARGAIN shopping and not paying full prince she just laughed. "Whatever helps you sleep at night". How I miss her. Anyway, I found myself on the couch on Sunday morning and decided to get on Amazon to buy books for the upcoming beach trip to North Carolina (all we do is beer, books, and beach). I get online, browse around and find myself with 17 books, a Braves hat, and facewash in my shopping cart. Immmmmmmmmmmpressive. Even for me. I saved myself a trip to Hat World, Barnes and Noble, and CVS all from the comfort of my living room. More time to lay out? Yes, please, and don't judge me.
On another random note (but what else would you expect) I'm in the early stages of planning a trip to Europe or Australia for early next year with my good friend Kelly (and whoever else wants to go?). While thinking about which one to narrow it down to, I remember that my other good friend Katelyn was trying to plan something to Australia a year or so ago. I think oh sweet- maybe she'll go, how fun...this is the response I get:

Jordan says: Australia? beginning of next year?
Katelyn says: huh
Jordan says: i want to go
Katelyn says: oh man my cousin just moved from there
Katelyn says: any particular reason why?
Katelyn says: do you want to hold a koala bear?
Jordan says: yes
Jordan says: i want to hold it close and pretend is wally, my stuffed animal from childhood
Katelyn says: Awe wally
Katelyn says: i want to do a wine tour of italy
Katelyn says: and hold the wine bottle close
Katelyn says: and pretend its my college friend boones farm

anddddd the world makes sense again. watch out australia, I'm coming.

So, since the purchase of this new place I have realized two things:
1). My dad is wonderful (but I already knew that)
2). I need a husband
There have been so many little things that I have to take care of that I never thought of while living in my condo o' luxury in Buckhead. Shatter bathroom appliances on New Years Eve? No problem, just call the maintenance guy on duty New Year's Day. He'd love to come up and fix that for you Jordan, he's on his way. That poor man said two things to me that day:
1.) How the hell did you do that?
2.) Girl, I think you need stitches.

Ahhh memories.
Anyway. Both of my parents have been extremely helpful and willing to sacrifice their time/sanity to help me out when I get in situations where I'm rocking in the fetal position. (this may or may not have happened....twice). I was extremely proud of myself when I managed to put together two of the dining room chairs I got off Overstock.com. (pay full price? I don't think so) Then, I got to the third. For three consecutive hours I sat in my dining room floor and tried to assemble this stupid freaking chair. I followed the instructions just as I had with the first two yet none of the pieces were fitting together like other two had...that would just be too easy. Of course Dave, who had to talk me out of throwing the remaining 5.5 chairs out the window and onto I-285, came down one weekend and assembled the rest of them, fixed the odds and ends and hung up pictures and mirrors. Dad.of.the.year.
So. You would think I would figure out, okay, maybe I shouldn't be assembling items bought online that arrive in 3.489 million pieces. Don't get me wrong, I can assemble, but I have my limits. At this point, you think I would learn my lesson. I buy an elliptical from Sears and see they have option for in home assembly and I check it. How wonderful! I won't get pissed off, Dave won't have to drive down again, thank you Sears! No thank you Sears. $200 for assembly? After I'm already paying you $75 for a delivery fee? Are you serious? No. That is insane. I'll put it together myself. I fill my mom in on the good news.
Me: "Woohoo. operation get skinny will begin when my elliptical arrives on Saturday"
Tracy: "Good for you hon, so Sears is going to come set that up right?"
Me: "umm, no. they wanted $200 for that so I declined it. But don't worry. I'm going to set aside my Saturday and get it done. I've already read about it online and people say it's really not that hard if you just follow the instructions"
Tracy: "............"
Tracy: "mhuh. your father is going to be thrilled"
Ye of little faith. So the damn thing comes in, I am mentally prepared that this is going to suck. I wake up early, do some stretches (not really) and trot downstairs at 9am to begin the assembly....from HELL. Actually, it wasn't that bad. It took me 3 hours to get the base and half of the "legs" done but then came the foot pedals. In my defense, the drawing they had was pretty piss poor. I tried for what seemed like an eternity (probably more like 45 minutes) to get the right foot pedal in place with no luck. I thought calling my parents to see how theirs looked and was put together would be helpful, although I'm pretty sure they had been waiting for that call all day. My dad answered and said in typical Dave fashion "It's okay dude,(yes, he calls people dude, no he is not an old hippie) I'll come down tomorrow and put it together." Gotta love that man, he is the greatest.
I'm pretty sure he also muttered something about finding a husband to do all this for me and that poor man will have no idea the amount of things I like to buy and "assemble" myself....

Found him. Ohh if only he wasn't married.

my car hates me...

I know it's been a little while since my last little post, but I've been busy driving my car from Atlanta to Tennessee back to Atlanta then to Jasper, AL to Atlanta to Charlotte and once again back to Atlanta. All in one week. Needless to say I will not be going on any road trips in the near future. (unless its to the beach...even I have limits).
Now, on to Jasper. I'm going to go ahead an apologize if anyone I know is from this town or knows people from this town. But seriously. The things I saw I just can't begin to even make up. Exhibit A: I'm sitting in the lobby enjoying my third vanilla latte (double shot) of the day and see this snaggle-toothed woman with ridiculously short shorts and a rather colorful t-shirt. Me being me, I decide to see what exactly is so important that she would want to broadcast it on her t-shirt (obviously homemade). Word-for-word "Southern Belles love them some Country Boys." huh? what? why? why? why? I mean if you're going to make a statement like that can we at least use correct grammar? Of course not. So this little treasure (side note, she had on high topped white shoes with stickers from the University of Alabama on them, not embroidered....stickers) decides she wants a beverage from the vending machine. She removes a wrinkled dollar bill from her bra and inserts it into the machine which promptly spits it back out at her at least 5 times. She starts to get visibly angry and punches the machine while yelling something along the lines of "gawwwd durnit gimme a friggin' mowtan deeeewwwww you friggin' piece of..." At this point, I'm too annoyed by the fact that my phone had NO service to really grasp the amazingness I was witnessing or to document it via iPhone pictures like I usually do, so my apologies. After she tries another few dollar bills with no luck she reaches down in her sock and pulls out a few quarters..OF COURSE. Why didn't I think of that? As the machine starts to dispense her drink of choice she's visibly sweating and angry about the ordeal when all of a sudden she finds herself in possession of a DIET Mountain Dew, not a regular. You would think someone had kicked her cat. She continues to slap the machine and took the time to scribble down the complaint hotline number all the while cursing with such anger that spit is flying everywhere. (where she got that pen, I don't even want to know).

I was also lucky enough to witness one of those Jesus's face in a grilled cheese sort of things. There's a door in the hospital with some plexi-glass over it that I walked past several times during the day but never stopped to look at. Later in the afternoon it caught my eye and I was fascinated by the story. A man's son was in critical condition and he was staring at this door when he realized he saw a face staring back at him which gave him hope his son would be okay and his son was hoooorayyyyyyyyy. Enough people must have thought it was the face of Jesus because its now covered in plexi-glass and has a plaque next to it explaining the story. The picture is below, you be the judge.

mayyyyyyyyyyy

wow, seriously. I can't believe it's already May 2. You might say, well, who cares, yesterday was the 1st, tomorrow is the 3rd, let's sign you up for a Nobel Peace Prize. After I looked at you with a scowl, I'd oh-so-pleasantly inform you that I have exactly 4 more months of being 25. WTF. When the hell did I get so old? This past year has been a big one for me, I bought a house, and I'm bound and determined to get that Benz...riiiiiiiiight (or Volvo SUV, go ahead and insert mom car jokes here). But STILL. I feel like the past 3 plus years since I've graduated college have flown by. Probably because I spent the first 2 years working and traveling all over the place....when and if I ever write my first novel based on the ridiculousness I've seen those travels and experiences will probably have at least 2 chapters dedicated to it. The most interesting place I went to was a town called Scottsbluff, Nebraska.


When my boss told me I was going to start traveling out there I looked at him and literally asked if he just threw a dart at a map. I'll never forget the first time I drove up...I just remember thinking you must be kidding me. There was nothing but a few grocery stores, a YMCA, your standard fast food places, a movie theater (in which I sat by myself and watched the first Sex and the City movie...well, actually me and 2 women over 70 were the only souls there, but they left about 20 minutes in and gave me a dirty look when I didn't follow in their footsteps, I'm also pretty sure they pulled that from the theatre after the first week... but anyway). There was also a mall with a cowboy apparel outlet in it. Did I purchase a snazzy pair of authentic cowboy boots that I LOVE? yes, and don't judge me. They offered to throw in a lasso but I didn't see any need for that. I thought they were kidding, so they weren't amused by my howls of laughter when I imagined myself with a lasso. That wasn't my only run-in with locals out there. I remember being at the neighborhood bar (also known as Applebee's) and arguing with two 19 year olds about the south. Yes, the girl who was born in Connecticut and despised everything Southern (Chick-fil-A I'm so sorry) for the first 5 years or so after we moved down here was getting PISSED at two hoodlums who had no idea about anything they were talking about. They were genuinely shocked when I told them Atlanta had running water and electricity. (I'm sorry dude, do you see the cowpasture you live in?) Now, I say that I "told" them, but after a few cocktails it was more like a sarcastic shout with lots of eye rolling and annoyed sighs. Before this sounds like I was sitting at an Applebee's bar in Nebraska by myself I'd like to mention that I was out there with a sales rep who was also from the south but was oblivious to the entire conversation and much more interested in checking the Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiide's score. I think I made the townies feel bad because they offered to buy me a "Red Beer" which is something I think is native to Nebraska since I've never heard of in anywhere else. Basically it's a beer of your choice with tomato juice. Just as delicious as you'd imagine.
All in all I figure I ended up spending about 8 months in that place, but I'll never forget it. The people were some of the nicest and most easy going I've ever met. After me being the new shiny object in town wore off they invited me into their homes and their lives and I'll never forget it. It was probably one of the only things that kept me sane. I had the BEST steak I've ever had in my life out there and my eyes were opened to a slower and less stressful way of life. I tried to take a piece of that with me. I almost feel like I need a trip back out there to remind myself to slow down a bit. You know you have a problem when you're yelling and flailing around when the driver in front of you is puttering in the left lane and you think it's the end of the world. Calm down Danica Patrick, you'll get there in time.

"You forget your problems, down in Biloxi"

I know what you're probably thinking. Nice one, gambling and casinos and unlimited alcohol, just what you need. The truth is I'm down here for work. Its not my first rodeo with this town, but every time I come I still feel like I'm in a foreign country. And I'm not even inserting a redneck or country bumpkin joke here. Seriously. I do not understand casinos. I walked around for a little bit last night after I arrived...oh and not via my rental car, thanks for nothing Enterprise. Your website will be receiving a scathing email from me about the piss poor customer service of Big Bertha at your rental counter. She looked like she wanted to be a vampire. Needless to say I didn't argue with her as long as I should have because she probably would have tried to bite me or something on my way out. It takes a lot for a person to frighten me to the point where I just want to get away from them as fast as I can and Big Bertha succeeded.

Anyway. Back to casinos. After I finally got settled in my hotel room I walked around for a while looking for a bottled water (yes, WATER...I've been sick for about 5 days now and wanted nothing more than my flonase and some aqua). I was taking in all the people (my GOD, do they crawl out of sewers?) and suddenly found myself just steps away from the holy grail of Biloxi, the Hard Rock Casino, located only an elevator ride and steps away from my hotel room. I give it the stare down, trying to decide if I wanted to explore or just go to bed...its a like a whole new world in there, an adult version of Chuck-E-Cheese and instead of tickets that can be redeemed for a yo-yo (heh, you knew I had to mention the yo-yo again) you get CASH MONEY. All of a sudden Deputy Dan and his 4.3 teeth come up to me and say "hey there little lady. you old enough to be in here, this is for grown ups only." Normally, I would be flattered by this concept since I've been called a 35 year old since I was 12...not tonight. I'm annoyed, I want my water and the glorious bed that looked like a cloud. I looked at Deputy Dan and simply said "yes" and started to walk away. That would have been entirely too easy. Deputy Dan follows me around a little while mumbling something about city folk and then finally gives up to stalk the 19 year olds who have just snuck in behind me. I finally found my water, $7.95 later, and crashed before 11. Part of me was a little upset I didn't go explore the wonderland, but then again I didn't lose any money...I guess it's a win/win situation. When I left my hotel room at 5:30 this morning I was pleasantly greeted by a drunk man and his even drunker wife as I got off the elevator on the casino floor. Homegirl wasn't giving up on her Ketel One and orange juice. At least she was starting her day off right with the OJ. I passed some other patrons who I think might have been the same people sitting at the Slingo slot machine when I went to bed last night and almost went back and did what my mother told me "JESUS Jordan if you're going to get all worked up about it just go put a damn quarter in something." Maybe next time...

you think I think too much?

"Eventually all the pieces fall into place....until then, laugh at the confusion, live for the moment, and know that everything happens for a reason."


“Sometimes we need to stop analyzing the past, stop planning the future, stop figuring out precisely how we feel, stop deciding exactly what we want, and just see what happens.”


Thank you Carrie Bradshaw. Your quotes always remind me to calm the hell down and not think so much. And that afternoon cocktails are totally acceptable.


Off to the first Bachelorette party of the season in a few hours and I'm pumped. I'm sure I'll have miles and miles of stories to talk about when I return. Don't worry, I'll keep it PG-13, mainly because I have the maturity level of a 12 year old boy and will probably be uncomfortable until my Alabama Slammer kicks in.

Dearest Kaylyn. I'm so happy for you. I'm just hoping I can return to rockstar status for your weekend...actually, I just hope you have more fun than you look like you're having in this lovely blast from the past.



I'm also hoping I can get you to do this again...I wonder if Savannah has any animal statues? If they're there...we'll find them.

just call me grace

Perhaps I should have named it, my rant when I have time to rant about things that are interesting to rant about. Maybe I'll rename when I think of something more clever. Anyway. It's Sunday night....another weekend has come and gone and I find myself on the verge of yet another trip to see Grandparents. I know, Grandchild of the Year Award, right here. I guess lately I've just realized how precious time is with people you love/care for and you have to take advantage while you can. On Tuesday the Trace and I are headed down to Tampa to surprise my other Grandma for a few days. Should be magical. I won't be begging for a Benz, but I'm sure I'll bowl 9345 rounds at the world renown Spring Hill Lanes.

Hopefully I can manage to bowl without injuring myself- which seems to be a regular occurrence with me lately. Now, anyone who knew me from age 7-17 probably already knows that I am the least graceful and most accident prone person alive. (Who breaks their wrist while roller blading on one leg to prove that I could go farther than my sister? This kid). I like to think I masked it pretty well in college (with the exception of a few incidents, which also involved that pesky Jack Daniels) but recently...its been out in full force. Case in point: While waiting around at the hospital the other day I decided to check out what kinds of glorious toys the gift shop had. I saw a few handheld poker games and then spotted it, a yo-yo. I don't think I had seen or even thought about a yo-yo in years. I see the price, $1.99, what a freaking deal right? After amusing myself and the other patrons (you're welcome Kelly) in the waiting room with my walking of the dog, baby in a cradle, and numerous other nerd tricks that I somehow know how to do, I get cocky (shocking) and throw my yo-yo a little too hard and pieces of it shatter and fly across the floor. I look like a moron and have to collect the pieces and sit back down in my chair. Most people would throw the toy out at this point, let it go Jordan. Not me. I take it home with me and instead of doing something productive like finish painting the bathroom (a task started 6 months ago) I decided to practice with my new slightly broken yo-yo some more. I remembered a trick my neighbor and I used to do back in the day that involves throwing it out in front of me like a softball and catching it....oh don't worry, I caught it alright. Right above my right eye. I immediately sit down on my floor and start laughing at myself. I mean really, WHO does that? Me, apparently. After some initial swelling, a little bit of bruising, and a weee bit of red wine I'm as good as new. The yo-yo has been retired to my garbage, and I'm just waiting for the next episode of gracefulness I can get myself into.

hey princess, you're not 19 anymore

The past few weeks have brought to my attention several things.
1. Jack Daniels is not my friend, nor is he a Gentleman. I'm not sure why- but lately I've had a few episdoes that could rival pretty much (well, kinda)any weekend I ever had in college. I blame this on Jack and have decided to replace him in my life with Capri Sun. You would think that after having my childhood filled with these wonderful juice bags I'd figure out how to put the straw into the pouch without stabbing it out the other side....nope, not yet. At least I have something to strive for.

2. Getting a Mercedes out of your grandparents proves to be slightly more difficult than a camera. Let me be clear, I love my grandparents, I appreciate everything they've done for me and know that it would be absolutely absurd and ridiculous if they actually did buy me a car (or put down the downpayment). I think of it more as a game- how far can I push this? Can I wear them down? I think I have to raise the white flag on this one, even after a weekend of quality time with G-ma and G-pa they were still laughing at my attempts to get them to turn in to the Benz dealership on the way to pick up their friends the Bakers. (pronounced Bayyyyyykaaaaaaaa). Speaking of, these these two characters might be my new best friends. Felix is an Auburn grad, so we immediately became BFFs. He informed me that we'd lead the restaurant in Auburn cheers before the night was over and honestly I'm surprised it didn't happen. He asked me where the SAE house was located now-a-days and I'm trying to think of landmarks in Auburn that are close to it so I go with the obvious...Momma G's...everyone knows where that is right? Wrong...I think even my dad (a rabid TN fan) could feel the pain in my eyes when this man, Felix, told me he had no idea what Momma G's is...even when I describe in detail the wonder that is the nachos (nacho cheese doritos, pepper jack cheese and jalapenos in a steamer). Also note- this magnificent wonder can not be recreated in an oven, microwave, or any other appliance I have in my kitchen. Its a sad sad day when you realize this. But anyway- Felix and I gave up on trying to name restaurants, I'm pretty sure nothing that was there in his day was around when I was there...instead he started telling stories about hazing that I'll leave up to the imagination. At this point his wife starts in on the conversation. This woman, who tries to tell me she's from Wyoming but sounds straight out of LA (lower alabama)asks me what my sorority affilation at Auburn was...turns out we were in the same one. Small freaking world. After doing the super secret handshake it was sealed- my new best friends are over 80 years old. I remember being kind of sad when we left that night. I mean when could we hang out again? When could they come to Atlanta to visit? After my 3 Fat Tires wore off I realized the likelihood of me seeing these two characters again is pretty slim to none but it was good to know that I can still be kicking it in my 80s telling people stories about my college days like they were yesterday.
War Eagle to the "Bayykaaas".

well, this should be interesting....

leave it to me to decide to start a blog on a random monday night in march. hopefully i'll get the hang of it and make this interesting. all i know is that by the time i was 24 i probably could have written a pretty freaking amazing novel.