Friday, February 29, 2008


Today I am unveiling a new feature on my blog, called the Friday Five. Some bloggers utilize this Friday5, but my spin on the Friday Five will be a simple list of five things I just want to get off my chest. I don't like having to think on a Friday. So this will involve little effort (which makes me happy), and you still get a post, (which makes you happy).

1. I was way off on my Idol predictions. How embarrassing. I'm 4/8 and so is Wes (we're having a contest).

2. Someone at work asked me if I was wearing fake eyelashes. That conversation was the second best part of my week. Do you know that I have a weird obsession with my eyelashes? Compliments on eyelashes are my second favorite kind to receive.

3. The only thing I don't like about living in the South is this snow obsession that everyone seems to have. I love it when it snows in Alabama or Tennessee and all y'all change your Facebook or G-chat status to IT'S SNOWING! or SNOW IN ALABAMA?!?! WTF?! When it snows in July, THEN you can make a big deal out of it. But not until then. I like snow just as much as the next guy, but let's move on. It's just snow.

4. Instead of taking a Spring Break (do you like how I am pushing 25 and still feel entitled to a Spring Break?), I think I am going to drop some cash on really good Kanye West tickets. Come on, you know that concert is going to be incredible. And hello - isn't Atlanta the Detriot of rap music? With all the surprise guests that are bound to show up, they might as well call it the BET Awards.

5. I went to see Juno last night. I loved it. My favorite parts weren't the funny parts, but were when Juno and Paulie were spooning in her hospital bed and she was crying, and this exchange between Juno and her dad:
Juno MacGuff: I just need to know if it's possible for two people to stay happy together forever, or at least for a few years.
Mac MacGuff: In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.

Thursday, February 28, 2008


I haven't posted about the Gauntlet since Brooke went home (and took the essence of the show with her) but I am still watching it. I know one thing - if I ever get hard up for romance, I'm going on MTV. The kids (or in some cases, middle-aged women) on that show are coupling off right and left. I think MTV should plan a show where all these Real World-Road Rules Challenge couples compete against each other. I mean, just from the current challenge alone we've got CT + Diem, Beth + Ev (even though they're not together anymore), Paula + Brad, Derek + Tori, Frank + Jillian, Nehemiah + Angel, Casey + Johnny, Danny + Melinda and Johanna + Wes (though Wes wasn't on the challenge, Johanna was). My money would be on CT + Diem. Though Frank and Jillian have really proven themselves. And by "proven themselves" I mean at being good at surviving the guantlets AND at being mind-numbingly annoying!

Speaking of reality TV, I need to make my Idol predictions for the week. For the girls, I am ready to see Neidermeyer hop on her bike and hit the road (I know it's Overmyer but I like saying Neidermeyer better because it's from a good movie... name it). That was the obvious choice. The other girl to leave is a little harder to predict but I'm going to go with Kady Malloy even though I wish I could say it'd be Kristy Lee Cook and her acrylic nails from hell.

From the guys, kiss Luke whats-his-name and Jason Yaeger goodbye. Can they send three guys home and one girl? Danny Noriega is more girly than some of the girls are and I am really ready for him to leave.

While I'm writing this fluffy, shallow, pop culture-ridden post, is there anything else of little or no consequence that I need to address? I had my first taste of wine from a box yesterday. It was pretty good. Went back for seconds. Guess that's about it!

Wednesday, February 27, 2008


You know that old song "I was country when country wasn't cool?"

If you've known me since high school, then you may know that I liked the Spice Girls when liking the Spice Girls wasn't cool.

Summer 1997 - bought Spice (CD #1)
July 4, 1997 - three of my friends and I dress up and make a music video to "Wannabe." We learned the dance and everything.
Oct. 31, 1997 - same three friends + a new recruit dress up and go trick or treating as the Spice Girls.
Nov. 1997 - bought Spice World (CD #2)
Jan. 1998 - went to see Spice World at the theater. Loved it.
Summer 1998 -purchased Spice World on VHS. Still watch the film randomly (and by randomly, I mean as recently as this summer).
Oct. 31., 1998 - went trick or treating with friends as Spice Girls again. May or may not have black-faced myself in order to resemble Mel B as much as possible (because a black sports bra, oversized camo pants and combat boots weren't cutting it).

In between all of those milestones, my older sister voiced disdain, horror and general disapproval of my penchant for all things Spice. Actually, back then, she voiced disdain, horror and general disapproval at everything I did.

So imagine my SHOCK when she announces to me over g-chat that she really really wants to go see the Spice Girls reunion tour. WTF? I thought I was the Spice Girl fan in the family? Apparently not. She's been closeting her inner Spice for more than a decade.

We contemplated trying to go see them in New York, but before we committed, the Spice Girls added more concert stops in the U.S., one of which was practically in my sister's backyard. And of course, I had a job function the weekend of the show. I tried to get out of it but it didn't work. At first I was sad for me for having to miss it, but then I felt even sorrier for her poor husband, who had to go with her. The concert was last Thursday and she said it was awesome.

Unfortunately, last night's show in Toronto was the last stop of the tour, and they are claiming this will be their last tour ever. Whatever. I've heard that story many times (Wynonna and Naomi Judd, I'm talking to you).

I'll tell you one thing - "if" (read: when) New Kids on the Block have a reunion tour, I'm sooooo there, with or without my sister.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008


So, yesterday I found out where the Green Hills are, in case anyone was curious. I took off running and was bopping along when I looked up and there was a big, fat hill. Hi Goliath, my name's David. Hill after hill. It was rough. But I finished strong.

Speaking of finishing strong, today marks only two months until the race. I know I will be ready by then.

I received my recommitment forms yesterday. Basically, TNT wants to know if I am still running in the Country Music Half-Marathon, and if so, where's the money. Since I haven't met my fund raising minimum of $1800 (yet), in addition to shirt size and estimated finish time, I gave them my Visa card number.

So, dear friends and blog readers, what does this mean? It means that if you have been meaning to donate, or waiting to donate, or read this blog daily and think to yourself "I really do need to contribute," the time is nigh. Please please please. I am not too far away from my minimum and not too far from my goal. If everyone that visited this site just yesterday alone gave $5, we'd be done.

I want to meet the goal by March 26 (one month til the half-marathon). Can you help me? Click here to donate, or click the LLS logo on the right side of this page.

I don't know how else to word it, y'all. I hate asking for money. Thanks to everyone who has helped out so far. Remember, it's not for me. It all goes toward research funds to cure Leukemia and Lymphoma and other kinds of cancer. Like the horrible prostate cancer that took the life of the greatest man I ever knew exactly four years ago tomorrow.

With that, I'll wrap it up before I start to cry. I'm sorry if this post is coming on a little strong. But here's an offer - if anyone wants to join me on one of these long training runs, I'll donate your money FOR you. We'll see which is harder: sparing $10 or running 10.

Monday, February 25, 2008


I had the most unusual, mind-blowing, still-kind-of-freaked-out-about-it encounter with a cop yesterday afternoon. I was on my way to run, so I was channeling all my mental energy into that, but then this cop totally busted my concentration and almost ruined my run and my week (key word: ALMOST). Let me explain:

I was driving down Belle Meade Boulveard, telling a story to my passenger/friend, when I absent-mindedly passed a cop. As I was doing it, my friend interrupted my story and said, "Should you really be passing this cop?"

No. I should not have been passing that cop.

Of course the police officer pulled behind me and 30 seconds later had the blue lights on. Great, great, great. As I was pulling my car off to a side street, ANOTHER cop pulled behind the one that pulled me over. WTF? Backup? I was screwed.

As I turned the car off, I realized something very important. I didn't have my license, and that was not by accident. Since I was going to run, I didn't bring my wallet because I didn't want to leave it in my car. Infraction Number One. I asked my friend if I was going to get arrested.

The cop got out of her car. She stood around outside, talked to her backup, studied my car, looked in the back seat, and finally came up to my window. She explained why she pulled me over: not only was I speeding (Infraction Number Two), I passed her (Three [though I don't think that is necessarily against the law]), and had been "cruising" in the left lane, which on this particular street is to be used only for passing and turning (Four). There are even signs that say so. "But I was using it for passing," I wanted to argue. Instead, I held my tongue. She asked for my license, registration and proof of insurance.

"I have my registration and proof of insurance but not my license. You see, I'm on my way to run and didn't want to bring my wallet and leave it in my car," I stammered. She looked at me like I had just offered to roll her a joint. "Then get those two things and I'll be right back."

I opened my glove compartment/the black hole. Maybe that is where I will hide my wallet in the future, because there is no way in all that crap anyone could find it, just like there was no way I was going to find my most recent registration and proof of insurance before she came back. I found an AllState card which had expired in November (note: I am a law-abiding insurance payer [right, Sam?], it was PROOF of this that I was having trouble procuring). I was still looking when she returned.

She asked me if it was a Tennessee license, took down my name, social security number and DOB, then asked me with a little bit of a snarl, "Do you live here?"

Now, at that point, I remembered something else: for almost two years now I have been driving around with Alabama plates and a Tennessee license. I'm told this illegal. Infraction Number Five. Not wanting to lie to the cop, I tell her yes.

Then (my second favorite part of this story) she asks me if this was my car. Okay, seriously? That's just insulting. If it wasn't my car, why would I be driving it? Because I stole it? LOOK AT IT. WOULD I STEAL THIS CAR?!?! I said "uh, yes ma'am," possibly a little too quickly and with a little too much attitude.

Then she asks if I'm in school here. I said no. She asks if I have a dual residence. I look at her blankly. She asks me something about living in Alabama. Wondering if she has picked up on Infraction Number Five, I mutter something about living in Alabama part time (come on, for the first year, it was easily a dual residence). "What I'm getting at is I need an address," she says.

Now, in the time since I had my TN license made, I've moved twice. When I got the ID, I was living in the nastiest apartment ever off of West End. I've blocked it out of my mind, but not off my permanent record, which was not good because at that exact moment, I forgot the name of the street we lived on/listed in the DMV. I look at my friend and ask, "What's the street that runs beside West End?"

That's like asking "What's the street that runs beside 280?" My friend looked at me like I had just offered to roll him a joint as well.

I turn back to the cop. "I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. It's behind the Chili's, it splits off of West End by Centennial, umm umm umm..." She was getting exasperated. I'm surprised she didn't ask me to step out of the vehicle. She looked at my friend. "Do you live here?" "Yes." "Do you have your ID?" "No."

Suddnely I remembered the hell-hole address: "Elliston! Elliston! 3315 Elliston Place." As she writes this down, she begins lecturing my friend and I on the dangers of wandering around ID-less in Davidson County, and how it's a law and they can hold you in jail for up to three days while your fingerprints are processed to prove you are who you say you are, etc. She is going on and on about how we always need to have ID, and I need to hide my wallet or lock it in my glove compartment, when something magical, wonderful, and unbelievable happened.

Maybe she got tired of standing in the cold.
Maybe she felt sorry for me that I drive that pathetic car.
Maybe she was boring herself, too.
Maybe she didn't have that many blank tickets in her car, or that much ink in her pen.

Because she stopped mid-sentence, and miracle of miracles, homegirl LET ME GO. "Here, we won't do this," she said as she handed me back my (expired) proof of insurance. "I'm not gonna do this--just slow down and make sure you carry your ID on you, okay?"

I was STUNNED. Speechless. Dumbfounded. Aren't YOU?? Was this a joke? Am I on TV? Was this some new test for DUI?

Do you all understand - that cop could have made her ticket quota for the ENTIRE YEAR in one fell swoop with all my infractions. She was sitting on a pay raise and had no idea. And then LET ME GO!?!?

Not one to argue, I thank her, promise to follow her advice and roll up my window. I wanted to get out and hug her but restrained myself.

So what can we take away from this story?
1. I need to clean out my glove compartment.
2. Leaving my wallet at home - on purpose - was not a good idea (...or was it? Think she'd have let me go otherwise?)
3. I need to update my DMV records.
4. When driving to go run, do not speed because if you get pulled over it will break your concentration and you'll really not feel like running, no matter how much gatorade and carbohydrates you've had.
5. The rest of the year can only go downhill from here, because whatever fortune and good luck I had coming my way in 2008 was definitely used up in those magical six minutes off of Belle Meade Boulevard.


I'm back! Did you miss me?

It was great to see so many old friends at the wedding I went home for. Some of my favorite people from college are the ones I met my freshman year (I can't believe my that was eight years ago). So it was fun catching up, enjoying the reception, visiting with friends (hearing from more blog readers) and having a good time. And yes, I caught the bouquet... again. Fifth time, y'all.

But speaking of catching up - we have so much to discuss!

American Idol - I was 3 for 4 in my predictions. I was surprised Luke stayed but he probably won't much longer. I only got to watch half of the girls but I am really over that biker chick and the girl from Oregon that sold her horse. I'm much more into the guys than any of the girls this year, so expect to hear lots about little David and Michael the Aussie.

Saturday Night Live - I missed it but watched a few of the clips online yesterday. Tina's monologue and her segment on Weekend Update were hilarious. Mike Huckabee was funny too. It was neat to think I was just there in that studio and how much bigger they make it look on TV!

Being at Home - not as adventurous as the last time. Actually, I was turned off by the idea of moving back there anytime soon. That was a first.

Long run - I had a good run yesterday but it wasn't 9.5 miles. But that's another post altogether (the runs are rarely without incident these days).

The Oscars - I hardly watched it. I lost interest after the opening monologue, when I went to pick up my PeiWei dinner. I thought the clip about how the voting is done was more interesting than most of the show. Where was the comedy, like this from last year? But, it was neat to think I was just there in that theater (okay, maybe not "just there" but "there not too long ago") and how much bigger they make it look on TV! I was remembering all the neat things I learned, like where the winners walk to get to the press room (through a glass corridor to the hotel next door), how every single person must present an ID and ticket to get in (celebs included) and how big the backstage area is (I think they said you could fit a basketball court back there). Yay, Hollywood.

And last, but not least, my BlackBerry - Monica was waiting on me when I got home yesterday afternoon. I was trying to unpack and make lunch and coordinate running plans so I didn't get to spend time with her until last night. Maybe that's why I lost interest in the Oscars... but, so far we are enjoying getting to know one another. I'm not crazy obsessed yet, but I give it a week. I'm still trying to figure out the really basic things (for example. it took me one hour and a visit to to figure out how to get access to the contacts on my SIM card).

So, I think that covers everything. Come back later today for a hilarious account of what happened yesterday on my way to go run. You won't believe it.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008


Yes, it's true. I ordered a BlackBerry (the Pearl, of course), or as I have started calling it, the Tamagotchi of the new millennium.

After checking all the electronics stores, I went into T-Mobile armed with a Post-It note of all my plan choices. I explained how I haven't gotten a new phone in years, have been with them since 2004, etc. Long story short, we called customer service, who then patched me through to the retention department, who was able to override the system to make the phone a little cheaper. She also made my new plan effective immediately instead of on the next billing cycle (it's less expensive but with the same amount of minutes [I'm actually only paying $8 more a month to use the CrackBlackBerry (the girl that told me it would be $90 a month LIED)]), and then waived the shipping and upgrade cost of the phone. It's not like I just walked in there and said I'll take it. I did my research and leveraged my way to a good deal, I promise. I think. I hope. Moral of the story: call the retention department and ask them to give you the phone cheaper than the shelf price. It might work.

However, she's not here yet (my BlackBerry will be a she), and since I'm going out of town for work and then straight home, I'll be internetless and won't be blogging for a while. Which at first I was sad about but now am okay with. I think I need a blog vacation. But, since I tend to get lots of inspiration for posts while I'm at home, you should look forward to my return. And while you're looking forward to that, I'll look forward to seeing a few of my best friends while I'm home. And their new house. And eating Taziki's. And going out after the wedding I'll be attending. With more best friends.

Things I'm not looking forward to: missing the Spice Girls' DC concert, missing tomorrow night's Idol episode, and missing my group run on Saturday morning. 9.5 miles - who'd like to volunteer to make that up with me on Sunday?

So come Monday morning, we'll have so much to discuss: The Oscars. American Idol. A new Saturday Night Live episode finally (Tina Fey & Carrie Underwood - watch it!). Being at home. Another long run. And last but not least, Pearl's pending arrival. She's due on Tuesday.

Oh, the anticipation. This feels like when I went to Babyland General and picked up Christie, my Cabbage Patch doll who was a born a "boy" but was raised as a girl. Poor sexually confused cabbage patch doll. Let's just hope I don't take a marker and draw hair on my BlackBerry, too.

Monday, February 18, 2008


Dear Pearl,

We're going to be so happy together.... right?



On Friday, I found my office's new stash of Post-It notes and that may have been the highlight of my week. Someone got indulgent and ordered a jumbo box with pads in purple, lime, yellow and turquoise. Therefore, I have been thinking of things to jot down on a Post-It note all day.

As much as I love technology, I am obsessed with the written word. If I could make this blog post all these entries in my handwriting, I would. I love writing things down. Maybe it's because I love my handwriting. A teacher once told me that I draw, not write, my words.

In the same way I like to write things, I am also obsessed with office supplies (hence, the jubilation over a Post-It). Do I need to remind you of the Great Planner Debate from earlier this year? I gave more thought each year to what kind of supplies I was going to buy on the first day of school than what I was going to wear. And true story: for my 9th birthday, my grandparents gave me a $50 gift certificate to the teacher supply store. You'd have thought I won the lottery.

Pens. Paper. Notepads. Ob. Sessed.

Just imagine what happens when my obsessions/worlds collide (ie: monogrammed notepads - I'm drooling at the thought).

Sunday, February 17, 2008


Yesterday I was shopping with my mom in Anthropologie. That store is fun to look around in, but I've only bought one thing from them ever: my favorite summer dress.

Last year when I was in L.A., Eric and I were browsing the Grove and I came across this perfect little sundress. It was an unusual color combination, suitable for work with a jacket, had pockets and was not horribly overpriced (rare for that store). I bought it and then wore it everywhere I went all summer long (or so it seemed). I love that dress.

So yesterday, Mom and I are in Anthropologie and we're strolling around. I wander over to the colorful nighties and am browsing the rack (as if I need a nighty). I was pleased then horrified to find this on the rack with the nightgowns.

So, I was wearing a NIGHTGOWN all summer long?!?!? No wonder it's so comfortable. Did any of you know this and not tell me?!?! The description on Anthropologie says it's "beach- or bedside." What if I didn't go to the beach last summer? Could we say that it's "bar- or bedside?"

I'm so confused/embarrassed. Now that I know the truth, is it still appropriate to wear this out? And if so, can I buy it in the pretty brown and pink?

Friday, February 15, 2008


I had a really good run yesterday. It was important to me to have another good, shorter solo run this week, because as I mentioned, I felt like they were not getting any easier. My TNT coach diagnosed the problem, but I don't want my weekday runs to be harder than my weekend +8 mile runs. That's backwards.

I picked out a hilly loop near my house and took off. It was not too cold (unlike Wednesday, when I finally resorted to running indoors at the gym [and regretted it]). Thanks to some pent up frustration in my mind, I did great. I'd say yesterday was the first time I've ever really used running as a way to release emotion and what's on my mind. I liked it!

A few of you have been asking what the running goals are for now until race time, so here's what I have left:

Week Of:
Feb. 10-16: 6
Feb. 17-23: 4, 5, 9.5
Feb. 24-Mar. 1: 4, 5, 3.5, 6
Mar. 2-8: 4, 5, 10.5
Mar. 9-15: 3.5, 5, 4, 6
Mar. 16-22: 4, 5, 11.5
Mar. 23-29: 3.5, 5, 4, 6
Mar. 30-Apr. 5-3.5, 4, 12.5 (basically a half marathon if anyone wants to come cheer for me)
Apr. 6-12: 2, 5, 3, 6
Apr. 13-19: 4, 5, 6
Apr. 20-26: 4, 3.... 13.1! (yikes!)

You know what's weird? After running 8.2, those don't seem as scary anymore. This junk is more mental than physical, I'm telling you.

One more thing: on March 3, I have to give TNT my credit card number to vouch that by mid-April I will meet my fund-raising minimum or pay the difference. My goal is an even $2k but my minimum is $1800. While I am so proud to say that I have raised $1475 so far--due largely to y'alls generosity--I am $325 away from my minimum and $525 away from my goal. If you can help me meet it, I'd be grateful!


I promised you the story of my first kiss, and since I'm not one to break a promise, let's jump right into it:

I was 14. Turquoise was 16. We were going on our first date to the Homecoming football game and dance. I was so nervous I cried before he came to pick me up (it was my first date ever). I ordered the kids meal's chicken fingers at dinner (14? I WAS a kid). We had a blast and the dance was super fun.

I was sweating bullets when it was time for him to drop me off. I guess we were going out at that point because he'd instigated a DTR on the dance floor (where all good DTRs should take place). So we walk up the sidewalk to the front porch and hug.

Then, with all seriousness, Turquoise looks at me and says, "I need to ask you a question."

I gulped. "Okay?"

He batted his eyes. "Do you want me to kiss you goodnight?"

Now who asks a 14-year-old prude that on the first date? Of COURSE I wanted him to kiss me goodnight. But I couldn't say that! I had to play it sweet and innocent. I batted my eyes right back at him. "I don't know," I said shyly.

So Turquoise leaned in and planted one... on my cheek. I bounced inside and stayed awake in my bed for an hour, palm pressed to my cheek.

Weeks later I found out that he'd worked all of this out ahead of time. A "yes" meant yes, a "no" was no and "I don't know" was a kiss on the cheek.

So maybe that wasn't my first real kiss but it carried all the excitement and jubilation of one.

I hope you all had a good Valentine's Day. Mine ended up being fun: a good run, good dinner and good laughs - three of my favorite things!

Thursday, February 14, 2008


Call me a cynic, but this year for Valentine's Day, I'm wearing pink corduroy pants and that's about as far as I'm going. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to eat all the cupcakes and chocolate-covered strawberries that come my way (one of each so far this morning and it's only 10:06), but don't expect me to give back anything more than a wink and smile.

Having already told you about all my past valentines, I don't have a lot of exciting news to share today. I was partially correct about my 2007 prediction, and that makes me 50-50 once again. I'm still single, but no one in my family is getting married. I'll go double or nothing to predict the same set up for 2009.

Rather than waste time on that, though, I have two good Valentinesque stories for you. First, the story of my first "boyfriend."

It was the summer after sixth grade. I was sitting at home one day when my phone rang. It was a boy from my school. I almost dropped the phone I was so surprised. Boys never called me. I had greasy hair and braces.

So imagine my surprise when he said: "If Bicholas* asked you to go out, would you say yes?" I told him of course I would say yes.

The rest of the day, I waited by the phone like freaking Publisher's Clearinghouse was going to call. A few days went by. Nothing. Frustrated, I picked up the phone again the next time my mom left the house and called the boy that called me. "So, I thought Bicholas was going to call me and ask me to go?" "Oh, you're already going. I was asking you for him." "Wait, you said IF he asked me." "That's not what I meant. I gotta go."

Of course, my mom still teases me that I had a "boyfriend" for a few days and never knew it. I think we "went" for a month and saw each other maybe 3 or 4 times until he broke up with me at church camp. He had my best friend do it. I think Bicholas had some issues.

Pretty certain that my life was ruined (or at least the rest of my time at church camp), I cried and cried. Our parents were friends, so when his Dad came to pick him up from camp early and saw me crying by the horse stables, he let me use his car phone to call my mom.

Honestly, I was hoping his Dad would punish Bicholas. Not for breaking up with me, but for being so mean as to have my best friend do it. Little coward.

Eventually, I moved on. But Bicholas and I didn't talk again until probably our freshman year of high school.

Read about my first kiss later today!

*Name changed, obviously.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008


In college we used to have these socials called Crush Parties. We'd write down the names of our crush and the social chair would make sure he was invited to our party. Whether or not he would show, who knew. My freshman year I took matters into my own hands and a friend of mine and I just invited two guy friends to come with us, and I just got a zap with my crush at some point in the night. Then the next year, I went with two girls and once again, got a zap with my crush when I got there. Speaking of zaps: are they still popular? I should to go back and count how much money I spent on zaps in a year. At $2.50 a pop, I bet it was a lot.

Anyway, so in honor of Valentine's Day tomorrow, I'm having a Crush Party. Not really. But this is just my way of sharing what blogs I "crush" (yes, this is a real term in the blogosphere [so is blogosphere]).

So, Jen and Wes, Katie, Jon David, Jessica, Eric, Taylor, Star, Elizabeth, Lindsey, Shealy, Lindsay, Jen, Jenny and Susannah, YOU'VE BEEN CRUSHED! I confess. Y'all are funny and entertaining, honest and thought-provoking, and maybe more than you think, inspiring. Thank you. Party in the comments section. I hope you'll show up. BYOB.

And the rest of you that don't have blogs but "crush" on this one are certainly invited, too.


Recently, my friend's blog got hijacked. By her husband.

He added his name as an author and tossed his two cents into the ring. In this case, the ring of home decor. Don't get me wrong - I love it. "Blackberry", you are a hoot and I like reading what you have to say.

Actually, a couple of my friends and their husbands share blogs. So I got to thinking: would I ever share this blog with a husband? As in: here's the password, write what you want. Naturally, that opened the will I ever have a husband can, but that's another post entirely.

Anyway, the answer I arrived at? No. I guess I am selfish. It's one thing to start a blog specifically about your family. But this blog is my one little thing I do all by myself and have been for two full years. I assume one day a Significant Other will play a supporting role in many of the stories I will write about on here, but if he'll just have to start his own blog or share the comments section with the rest of you if he needs to express his point of view.

It's like Monica and her closet that she keeps locked up from Chandler. I just don't want anyone to mess it up!

Tuesday, February 12, 2008


Behold: two funny e-mails from my mom, sent within one hour of each other but not related in any way except through her own oddity:

In your blog "High"--you have 2 errors in the next to last paragraph. See if you can find them!

My response, upon realizing the post she's edited is about running:
Did you even like what I wrote? Silly.

I love what you wrote, but I do not want a blog relationship with my daughter. Anything you want me to know, you need to call and tell me, and I will give you appropriate feedback. Your generation thinks the computer is the way to cultivate friendships, relationships, love, etc. Not true. The ancient way is best.

My response:
You are ridiculous.

Maybe she should stop reading it then? That way I'd have to call her to tell her all this stuff... or what, of all this stuff, I wanted her to know. As well as discuss when she learned what the word 'appropriate' means.

A few minutes later, a new e-mail arrives:
The post man asked me the other day if my name was Yo. Thinking he had lost it and was about to pull out a gun (you've heard about postal workers), I stared at him and said, "no, why?"
He said, "Well the return address on this package says 'Yo Mama'. I thought you must be Yo."
He must be bored.
Maybe I should start a blog.

HAHAHAHAHAHA! I asked her if she was lying and she said "How could I make this up?"

Should I start calling her Yo instead of Oompa?


Today I will explain why I hate the Pedestrian Bridge.

Well... hated. I don't despise it anymore. We've come to an understanding now and we get along okay. But for the first year that I lived in Nashville, I hated the bridge.

It all started in 2005. I was brand-new to town and my knowledge of the city was limited to my path to work and back. My second week of the internship, one of my fellow interns invited me to come to a concert. She had a friend that worked for a record label, and there was (in her words) a big concert at LP Field - at that time it was just the coliseum - and this new artist plus Lynyrd Skynyrd were putting on a show. A big show. Her friend was going to give us good tickets and it was going to be cool, cool, cool.

She told me to park across the river from the stadium and follow all the people to the field. I remember her clearly saying: "It'll be so crowded, just like a Titans game. Just park on this side of the river near the bridge and you'll see tons of people heading to the Coliseum so just follow them."

So, feeling like a superstar, I invited my only friend in Nashville to come with us and we dressed to the nines for our first weekend out and about in Music City. Jeans, cute shirt and jewelry and oh yes - 3" stiletto heels. My friend and I do just as told and find a (very very empty) parking lot near the bridge to park in. We only see one other group of people and it's my friend we are meeting. Wondering where all the other tons of people are, we make our way toward the bridge while she calls her friend to see where we are to go. He doesn't answer.

We were about 40-50 paces onto the bridge when I realized I had a very big problem. Not only was I starting to get really hot from my jeans, but my feet were already killing me and we'd only been walking for about a minute. I didn't know how far we'd be walking and I sure didn't think it'd be across the biggest bridge I'd ever seen. Around minute two, I took off my shoes and just went barefoot. We got halfway up and while the view was nice, my feet were still hurting. This bridge had become my Everest.

Once again, let me emphasize that there was No One Else Around. The coliseum was as empty as could be. I think I heard a cricket. There weren't even any cars there. I was so confused.

We finally get off the Wicked Bridge of the East and I put my shoes back on. But once my friend tells us we are going to have to walk around the coliseum, I take them back off.

She finally gets in touch with her friend whom we are supposed to be meeting and he tells her to come to this bar on the other side of the coliseum, called The Trap. We hobble our way to the bar, and finally see other people. Yay.

Once we arrived, I was hit with the realization of what just happened. We walked across that Big Ass Bridge, to find no concert at the Coliseum, maybe because Lynryrd Skynyrd was no longer in existence. Turns out, it was a launch party (and NOT a concert of CMAFest proportion) for two artists: one female act (who was pretty good, I still listen to her album) and the band Van Zant, comprised of the brothers of the late lead singer of Lynryrd Skynyrd.

Despite being in a bad mood from losing all feeling in my feet, I was determined to have fun on my first night out. We stayed at the Trap for a while until I realized that fun? Nowhere to be found at the Trap. Which meant one thing: I had to get back to my car. Which meant one other thing: I had to cross that Big Ass Bridge again. I really did consider taking a cab, but we didn't see any, so my friend and I decided to go for it.

My feet were bleeding. Crying. Swelling. Melting. In 22 years, my feet had never hurt so badly my feet had only hurt that badly once before. I was heading toward the edge of the bridge to jump off when I realized we were at the crest, the summit if you will, and my car was only minutes away.

The rest of the night did get better, but not until after my friend and I went to get something to eat and she spilled marinara sauce all over her cute white top and made me take her home. Like I said, I was bound and determined to have fun, so I dropped her off and met up with a group of non-intern coworkers who knew their way around town. And meeting up with them was the smartest thing I did all night.

So, it wasn't until this past fall that, surrounded by my friends and many drunk Titans fans, I defeated the bridge. I tried to get out of it, even while wearing flip-flops, but I knew it was then or never. And you know what? That bridge isn't so bad when you're not in stilettos. And when you've had a beer!

So the bridge and I are on speaking terms, at least. I can at least drive by it or see it without making comments or hissing noises and my feet curling up in my shoes.

Monday, February 11, 2008


I got an e-mail from my friend who hooked me up with the tickets to the Tim and Faith concert the other week. She had gotten a stack of cards and pictures from some of the students to send to Mr. and Mrs. McGraw.

Subject: Something for your blog
Here is a thank-you letter and picture I found from one of the 2nd graders to Faith and Tim. I think he's got a future in guitar art...

The note read:
Dear Mr. and Mrs. McGraw, Thank you so much for singing for us. I loved all the songs you sang. I listen to country music all the time.

Sounds innocent enough, right? Click here to see the guitar.

(My response back to her)
OMG. THAT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE A GUITAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(She wrote back)
Can you imagine sending this to Faith Hill and Tim McGraw!? They will think that is such a hoot.

(I wonder if we're on the same page)
I mean, you think it looks like what my coworkers and I think it looks like, right?

(She joked)
No. What do you mean? It's just a funny-lookin' guitar.

(30 seconds later)
JK. I think he's got the same problem the kid in Superbad had.

(My response)
I didn't see Superbad but please don't tell me you didn't look at that and immediately think that kid REALLY, REALLY, REALLY liked the show.

(She writes)
Tim in particular?

(I ask)
NOW I really want to post it. I thought that's why you sent it???? Am I that inappropriate or are you that innocent?

Of course she thought it resembled what I thought it looked like. We are both that inappropriate I guess, but what did you see when you looked at it?


I cleaned out my desk yesterday and found this. I have no idea how it got to Nashville:

How awesome are we? We worked all summer to perfect that - probably would have happened quicker if only we'd had a lake to practice in (though I think we tried it in a pool once or twice).

It took forever to get it right for the camera that day, too. I remember there were a lot of out-take photos. What I don't remember is why I didn't put on something besides a T-shirt and shorts.

But who cares. It's still cool! I may not be dressed up, my feet may not be crossed daintily like Jennifer Grey's and my hair may be significantly less poofy, but my dance partner was much better than Patrick Swayze. Let's face it, he was doing all the work there anyway.

Nobody puts Baby in a corner!

Sunday, February 10, 2008


Maybe an hour after I wrote about unfriending your Facebook friends, I read this in my Entertainment Weekly:

I stand corrected! Is this more common of a phenomenon than I thought?

I never joined Friendster, whatever that is, so at least I'm ahead of the curve on that one.

Saturday, February 09, 2008


Another Saturday, another group run. I was going to get on here last week and whine about how the runs aren't getting easier. They were for a while, but then I started to feel like I was back at square one.

So that's why I was shooting for the beginner's mileage of 6.5 miles this morning and was nervous about it. Our coach told us to bring a booster, so I grabbed some Accel Gel from my pantry of power (what I call my stash) and headed to meet my group.

It wasn't horribly windy/cold when I left my apartment, so I felt good in my long-sleeve tee and tights. Besides, after some of the temperatures I've run in, 45 degrees sounded tropical. But we were starting our run at LP Field, and for anyone (cough me) who hasn't figured it out yet - it's always colder/windier by the river. Write that down.

Anyway, so they passed out the papers with the run route. Immediately, I noticed two things: not only was this run one hilly little b****, but it was taking me almost to my house (read: FAR). But at the same time I was "excited" because a lot of it was actually race course, including the part right by my office and once again - almost to my house.

But it was a hard route right out of the gate. We had to go out of the parking lot, and up the Gateway Bridge. Not the pedestrian bridge, or as I call it, the Bridge From Hell (I will blog about why later). But to get onto a bridge, you have to go up, so we had a hill at basically one-tenth of a mile.

I powered through, got to downtown and headed up Broadway. It was fun to run through downtown, even if it was all uphill. Then the route turned and I ran right by my office, up to the roundabout and to our water stop, where I whipped out my Accel Gel to try, and I mean literally whipped it out (I am too ashamed to admit where I stashed it, so if anyone wants to let me borrow a fanny pack, I'd be grateful). It felt like lukewarm yogurt. Not horrible. I downed it with some water and took off again shortly.

Here's how these group runs work: let's say your goal is 6 miles. They have you run out 3, then run back, equaling 6 miles. This is very smart, because if you're like me and get lost a lot, then you have to just suck it up and run back (or wait for the sweeper car to get you). So yet again, I miss the street at which I was supposed to turn around for my 6.5 miles, and stayed with the group until we realized we'd gone too far. So we turned around and headed back (but not after I suggested we all go take a nap at my place, which was a mile away).

At the risk of tooting my horn, I have to be honest - I ended up running the return by myself and did great! My Accel Gel had kicked in and several times my head was saying "Walk!" but my legs/body were saying "Go!" and didn't let me stop. My gluteus maximum and hamstrings started to hurt, but that's a good thing because they were working hard! And a lot of the return was downhillish, so that made it better. Just where it was starting to get hard (that final mile - knowing it was bridge time), I saw my coach running to meet me. She was running intervals: meeting people to running the hard part with them, then turning around to go meet more people and re-run that hard part. So she ran most of the bridge with me, and before I knew it, I was back to my car.

So - are you ready for this? I ran 8.2 stinking miles this morning. 8.2... 8.2... 8.2... my goal was 6.5 and I was nervous about it. I ran 8.2 and felt great. And while my coach was running with me, I was telling her how the runs stopped being easy. Guess what she told me? When you start running long distances, your body warms up slower. So a 3 mile run could be harder than a 10 mile run. That made me feel better - my body is getting stronger! Progress!

So. 8.2. I did it. Farthest run ever. And honestly, I felt better when it was over than I felt this week after a measly 3 miler. Which I think has to do with a lot of things, including getting into a groove of staying in on Friday, eating a ton of pasta, hydrating and then dipping into my pantry of power on Saturday before the run. That Accel Gel was amazing (Strawberry Kiwi flavor, in case the "Easter Bunny" or "Cupid" is reading this). I think I've found my formula!

Thanks to Sam and Allison for donating to my online campaign. This half-marathon stuff is NOT easy, but it does get easier, thanks to long runs (8.2!!!!) and your support.

Friday night never looked so good!

Friday, February 08, 2008


Okay. I may start to take this personally. I have been unfriended (for the second time [that I know of]) on Facebook.

It's not as bad as it sounds. In the first instance of unfriending, more than a month went by before I even noticed. "Bear" (as in Bryant) and I had been friends for a while, but it's no secret that last fall and winter, I got a little busy. I was in town all of five weekends between August 06 and January 07, so pardon me for prioritizing my free time. It wasn't until April, that I noticed I was no longer receiving Bear's status changes. Not that I missed them. More often than not they were about Nick Saban - remember UAT had just hired him in January.

So I pull up Bear's profile and skim around. Something was different. There was no box for me to write on his wall. I scroll up. There it was: Add Bear to Friends. WTF?

Honest to goodness, I burst out laughing. Is this junior high? Is unfriending on Facebook the new telling the teacher? My curiosity got the best of me and I sent Bear and e-mail, short and sweet. "Hey there - did you unfriend me?"

Later that day I got a reply. Yes, I had been unfriended. Apparently I wasn't returning Bear's calls as often as he preferred, and frustrated with the situation, he took matters into his own hands. "Maybe it was immature to do that on Facebook, maybe not. I'm willing to 're-friend' if you want to," he wrote.

Not only did I never write him back, but we're still not friends. It's best to let sleeping dogs lie, don't you think?

The second case is a little different. This friend went MIA off of Facebook for a while, and I noticed he/she was back on yesterday. I clicked on his/her profile and was a little offended to see Add X To Friends. But, it looks like someone did some friend weeding (I'll let Jon David explain what that is) so I'm not taking it personally. Except that I really did think we were friends, but whatever.

So what the heck people? If you think you have too many friends on Facebook that you have to weed them out, that's no one's fault but your own. And if you think you have been so poorly mistreated by a friend that you resort to unfriending them? Once again, probably no one's fault but your own. Or, just "reject" them in the first place - I've done it! It just saves you from having to unfriend them later!

In either case, maybe you should dig down deep in your heart and think about if you really should be on Facebook if you are unfriending people because you have too many friends, or because your feelings get hurt too easily.

Consider this officially added to my Rules of Facebook (you friend weeders pay special attention to Rule Number 5).


I got a little bit excited and switched things over a day or two early. But it's my blog and I call the shots, right?

I'm still working on the header and the colors, so those might change up a little bit over the weekend. And I'm not moving to Wordpress yet, because I am not sure if the Wordpress features outweigh some of the Blogger features. But y'all don't care about that.

So, without further delay, I present to you, Pearls of Wit! Yay. Update your bookmarks.

Thursday, February 07, 2008


Last night I was reading my new issue of Real Simple and came to an article about finding your passion. The author suggested a good way to find what your passion really is would be to picture yourself at a party where you know no one. You're walking around the room and overhear a conversation that so strikes your interest that you absolutely have to jump in. "Excuse me," you'd say, "I overheard you talking about X and I simply had to join in."

So I thought about that for a while and decided I would probably interrupt conversations about Auburn, FRIENDS, writing, singing, Justin Timberlake, or American Idol. Which is weird, because those are all things I like, but I would only say I was "passionate" about four of them. I like JT and Idol, but I am far more die-hard about singing, writing, Auburn and FRIENDS, and have been for quite some time. Furthermore, I feel there are other things I would like to do with a career, but wouldn't say I am "passionate" about at this point (read: I wouldn't interrupt a conversation about stationery; I'd just eavesdrop).

So how do those four obsessions translate into a career I am passionate about? The article suggested that people who like cooking go to work for a catering company, but not necessarily as a chef. Or, I thought about my friend Jennifer who loves design/decorating. Though she isn't a designer or interior decorator (professionally), she works for a home design/decorating Web site, and therefore is around design/decorating/her passion all day long. So following that school of thinking, I wonder if I need to either work in the music industry (so I could be around singing), work for Auburn, or write about things that interest me, like singing, Auburn, JT, American Idol or FRIENDS.

Obviously it would not be wise of me to put a lot of time toward how to channel the FRIENDS thing into a career, since that ship sailed when the show went off the air. But - that doesn't mean I can't write about it. So guess what?

I get asked often which Friends season or episode is my favorite. I decided it would be a good task to choose my top 10 favorite episodes out of all 236 of them. A good task, but a hard task. So, after more thought and deliberation than was probably necessary, here you go:

1. The One Where Ross Got High - 6.9
2. The One With the Lottery - 9.18
3. The Last One - 10.17 and 10.18
4. The One With Videotape - 8.04
5. The One With the Rumor - 8.09
6. The One With the Late Thanksgiving - 10.8
7. The One With the Embryos- 4.12
8. The One Where No One's Ready- 3.2
9. The One With Monica's Thunder - 7.01
10. The One Where Rachel Has A Baby - 8.23 and 8.24
(Honorable Mention) Chandler and Monica's Wedding - 7.23 and 7.24

Now you may notice a pattern here. I like episodes where the whole cast is together (i.e.: Thanksgiving episodes) and I also like the later seasons better than the earlier ones. Maybe in future posts I will tell more about why these 10 are my favorites.

So there. I really enjoyed writing that and spending time coming up with that list. Maybe this whole find your passion thing is worth something.

Perhaps Langston Hughes put it best:

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

I think the real problem isn't that I don't know what my dream/passion is, it's that I don't know how to get it. Or more accurately, where to start (before it's too late and I fester, stink, crust over and sag).

P.S.: Please don't judge me if you think my passions/obsessions are shallow. I have lots more interests than those obsessions. Just because you don't understand something doesn't make it wrong (or me shallow).

Wednesday, February 06, 2008


You guys, I am excited to announce that I have dipped my toes in the songwriting waters. In this town, everyone is either a singer, songwriter or both, and now finally I fit in!

So here is my first song, which I was inspired to write after hearing the tale of my friend's recent breakup with her boyfriend. Not that I am making light of her situation in any way, but I think my song pretty much sums up the situation:

Bass Pro Shop Blues, by Lindsay
"I didn’t want to stop
At the Bass Pro Shop
So I turned the car around
On the way home I found
That I was strong and I could stand
Didn’t need to deal with his demands
He said "If you turn around we’re through"
I knew just what I had to do
I turned around and headed home
I’d be better off alone
Than being forced to stop
At the damn Bass Pro Shop."

That's got CMA single of the year written all over it, right?

If you're like me and can COMPLETELY understand why she didn't want to stop at the Bass Pro Shop (Katie, Shealy), leave her some love in the comments section while I go shop my song up and down Music Row.

*Obviously, there is more to the story than I am telling. Of course they didn't break up only because he wanted to stop at the BPS.
**Yes, I have her permission to share her story/my song.
***Suggestions/ideas for the music video?


So Nashville got some bad storms last night. I didn't really understand how bad the storms were until they interrupted American Idol to tell me about them.

So I shrug it off, go on about my evening, and then after Idol get in my car to run one errand. It was barely raining when I left my house, but when I got back it was down-pouring. I don't typically get too worked up over storms but you should know that a cardboard box may have more fortitude than our condo. When the wind blows really hard, my bedroom wall creaks so loud and it sounds like the whole thing is going to tumble like a house of cards.

I heard the siren and thought it was just wind. It wasn't horribly loud, like I thought a tornado siren should be. I don't know. I just wasn't that paranoid about it, even when JB came out of her room, saying that her parents (who happened to be in town) called to recommend we to take cover. Since there aren't a lot of places one can take cover in a third floor condo, her parents suggested we should get in our bathtubs for safety, a plan I was completely on board with since I was minutes away from taking a bath anyway. But then as I was looking out the window at all the lightning, I realized running water while in my tub for safety may not be a good idea. Plus, I have bad timing with alarms/drills and the bathroom. Three different times in college, the dorm fire alarm went off while I was in the shower. So I just knew the minute I got all settled in my bath of shelter, the whole place would fold and they'd find me indecent, yet relaxed and smelling of vanilla bath salts, amid all the rubble.

Here's when it got a little too close for comfort. I tell JB to turn on the TV to see what the weathermen were saying. Now allow me to me paint a picture. Just for a moment, pretend our wishes have been granted and we're back in Auburn, in Foy to be exact, and you hear the weathermen saying if you are on Magnolia, College, Thach or Donahue, to take cover. For those poor souls who didn't go to Auburn and therefore don't understand the illustration I just made, basically he named off five or six streets, four of which are on my running path (aka - very close to me), and then topped it off with this cherry - "pretty much where 440 and Hillsboro intersect." So, basically, my back yard.

At this point, I started to sweat a little bit. I've never been told a storm was passing over my very street. JB retreated into her room and leaves me perched on the couch looking out the living room window, like I'm going to see the thing touch down. I must have looked like a dog, standing on its hind legs looking out the window at nothing. At least I didn't bark. But after a few minutes, I grew bored of this and I decide I should go find a flashlight or something in case we lose power. I join JB in her room, and to distract her, we start a discussion about politics and weekend plans. After a while, we go back into the living room to check what the TV says. We alternate watching storm coverage and election coverage until we see that the very worst is now northeast of the city (and winning in California). Just as we are both exhaling sighs of relief, they mention that there are two more squall lines heading our way later that night. Awesome.

But as the rain and wind died down outside (temporarily), we grew engrossed in an episode of Hannah Montana, after which we were effectively calmed down enough to sleep in our beds and not our tubs.

But, today I've read about how bad the damage was, not only in Tennessee but in Alabama and Arkansas, and I hope everyone is okay. Please understand - I'm definitely not trying to make light of what was a very serious storm that took the lives of 50 people. Sad sad sad. I respect the weather. I just don't control it, so I found other things to worry about, like how Miley was going to get a humiliating picture of the Rock to sell to the tabloids so she'd have money to buy a "Z phone."

Tuesday, February 05, 2008


I have made clear on this blog my thoughts on smoking (or maybe just my thoughts on smoke breaks.) And before I go any farther, let's all remember that I'm not trying to discuss smoking bans and laws and anything even remotely controversial on this blog. We don't do that here, remember?

But I found out about something interesting last night. Apparently, in this office, employees that give up smoking and stay cig-free for a year receive $1000. Very interesting. And generous.*

So what about those of us that have gone cig-free for 25, 30, 40 and even 50 years? Where's my easy grand? I just feel that never even trying a cigarette should earn me a hundred bucks, don't you? I mean, if they get $1000 for giving them up, what about $500 to those of us SMART ENOUGH TO AVOID THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE? I think that's only fair. And if you catch me with one, I'll pay it back.

Isn't this some fundamental child-rearing philosophy? You reward good behavior and ignore the bad? Staying away from cigarettes seems like pretty good behavior to me, yet I don't get $1000, or 5-6 mini breaks everyday. Hmm.

I think I will go join the smokers in their next "Puffing Party" out front, bum just one and only one, and then - with much fanfare and drama - announce that I am giving up the cigs. Cold turkey! Without a patch or pills!

What if I gave up twirling my hair for a year? Could I earn it then? What about avoiding Otter's for a year? I mean, everyone battles different demons. So what if mine are fried instead of filtered?

SPEAKING OF GIVING UP: Do y'all honor Lent and if so, what are you going without (that you want to share)?

*All jokes aside, this is really cool. Add to list of my favorite things about my office, underneath Starbucks coffee, the dress code and cool coworkers (not in that order).


Remember when we celebrated World Gratitude Day...twice?

I think we need to celebrate more random holidays. For instance, did you know January was National Soup Month? Good thing I went and got soup from Panera a few times.

Unfortunately, we've already missed National Clean Off Your Desk Day, Appreciate A Dragon Day, National Hugging Day (although everyday is National Hugging Day for me), National Compliment Day, Bubblewrap Appreciation Day and Inane Answering Machine Day, when I guess everyone was supposed to change up their answering machines to something stupid along these lines.

But don't worry; it's only February and we've got 11 more months of wacky holidays to go. You all better start thinking of how you're going to celebrate Sweet Potato Month, National Boost Your Self-Esteem Month, National Pancake Week (3-7), International Flirting Week (10-17), Weatherman's Day (5), White Shirt Day (2/11), Get A Different Name Day (2/13) Introduce A Girl To Engineering Day (2/21 - that's for you, Wes), National Chili Day (1/28) and more.

I've already got some ideas for Flirting Week... (giggle).

Monday, February 04, 2008


So, how much fun is that photo thing on MAC computers? Would you look at this? I was crying from laughing so hard.
*Update: I have such pretty friends!

Sunday, February 03, 2008


I don't gamble. I have awful luck and I think way too hard. The one time I did gamble was at a Christmas Casino party my freshman year, and that was only because I a) wasn't playing with real money; b) knew all of the "dealers" and c) was one of the few sober people in attendance and therefore had my wits about me to cheat. For example: while playing Roulette, I would put chips on the 1 and 2 squares. If the wheel landed on a 4, 5 or 6 (the other end of the table) I would slap my hand down on the table (and over the chips I had placed), yell "Ohhhhh, too bad!" and slowly draw my hand back toward me, chips included, until I could sneak them off the table while the dealer wasn't looking. He finally noticed what I was doing, and all he could do was laugh. And it's not like cheating helped me win anything, because rather than distribute tickets for prizes based on how much "money" you had in chips, people were just pulling tickets off the roll and passing it to the next guy.

Anyway, so having never been to Vegas, Tunica or Biloxi, I haven't had a chance to even see if I'd be good at gambling but I don't think I would be.

Which is why, even thought I was promised there was no technique or skill involved, I was very very cautious to enter my office's Super Bowl Squares tournament. I still don't fully understand how it works, but all I know is I paid $2 and could win 4 prizes of $50. I chose my square very carefully and scientifically (by dropping my pen and choosing the closest square to where it landed). So as I understand it, I am hoping for scores to end in a 3 and 7. As in, at the end of the quarter, I need on team's score to be 3, 13, 23, etc., and the other's to be 7, 17, 27, etc. The catch: I forget which team's score I need to end in 3 and which team's needs to end in 7. So as you are cheering for your favorite team tonight, cheer them on to scores that end in a 3 or a 7. And cross your fingers that the right teams score the right numbers. I'll let you know tomorrow how I did.


A prize to anyone who can look past the curls, ribbon, eyeliner, facepaint and courage badge to guess who this little not-so-Cowardly Lion is! I think he was supposed to be cowardly, but it was pretty uncowardly of him to e-mail me the picture, so that courage badge is well deserved.

Saturday, February 02, 2008


So I mentioned that Faith did an Aretha Medley. "Dr. Feelgood" is one of the songs she sang and I think Aretha's version is going to become a favorite of mine. She tears it up in this clip on YouTube. Judge me, but that is one sexy song. It gets really good at 4:30.

Just think, I spent all these years assuming Aretha's only good songs were "Respect," "Son Of A Preacher Man" and "Natural Woman." Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

Friday, February 01, 2008


The people have spoken. The official new name of the blog is Pearls of Wit. If you absolutely insist on Tap That Sass, I might just buy that domain name anyway and each of you can just choose which one you prefer to use.

I'm planning to move to the new site on February 9, two years exactly after this one started. I think I have outgrown this title anyway. I no longer think my life is boring or that I live a bored existence. After all, I've seen and done a lot of cool things, 90% of which I chronicled for you on this blog: started training for the half-marathon, met Carrie Underwood, became an adult, stood by my sister and several of my friends on their Big Day, got a job (and learned a few things), started buying big girl stuff like furniture (then assembled it), went to the best concert ever, learned to cook, went to L.A., went to Chicago, went to New York, tried out for a game show (even if unsuccessfully), attemped to do my taxes, found my fan and more.

So raise your hand if you, too, are excited about a real live Web site, with all sorts of neat bells and whistles for us to play with. It'll be good for all of us, kids! I feel like the dad in Cheaper by the Dozen, rallying the flock about the big move across town (or, from Blogspot to Wordpress). Are any of you going to be Charlie and threaten to leave? And if so, do you look like Tom Welling? Because in that case, I'll gladly convince you to stay.

I'm not planning to go 100% anonymous, and give everyone code names. Though that would be funny. I already know what my family's names would be (Oompa, Jackie and John). I just want to find the right degree of anonymity. For instance, I don't want anyone to be able to Google my name and find us... not yet. But I want it so that someone can Google anything but my name and find us (i.e.:Carrie Underwood + Loser).

So anyway. I'll tell you when to update your bookmarks. Get ready.

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