My cats are smarter than I am.

DC experienced a 5.6 magnitude earthquake yesterday. I was at work, standing on my too-tall high heels, in the middle of a heated 'strategic discussion'. I just kept on talking. My coworker silently dove under his desk before anyone could even say 'I think it's an earthquake'. My boss finally said - I think we need to get down. So I started to get under my desk, but then the shaking stopped so I just looked like an idiot in my heels and skirt trying to get under my desk.

My cats, according to my husband who was home with the baby at the time, ran under the couch before the rumbling even started.

My cats are smarter than I am.

It's been awhile. Here's a novel.

So, the husband and I had been trying to start a family for over 3 (yes, I said THREE) years. We did all the painful and highly embarassing tests, only to be told that there was nothing wrong with us. We were given plenty of expensive, invasive and risky medical options that did not sound appealing. Especially in wake of the fact that there is nothing wrong with us.

I cried, alone, many a night and during many a shower. I've felt like far less than a woman because I could not get pregnant. I thought about leaving my husband, so he could find someone who would be able to give him children. I was depressed. I was angry. I was hurt. And I kept it (mostly) to myself. I didn't want to burden my friends or family with my emotions, and my inadequecy. I threw myself into work and school. It's how I coped, and no one else knew what I was feeling or why I was doing what I was doing. I think that most people just thought I was stressed over work and school. Work and school I can handle. Not being able to have a family, now that's devastating, heartbreaking and life altering. I hope that none of you reading this ever have to know the feeling.

The husband and I had researched adoption for a few months. It is scary, and we both quickly realized just how much time and effort, as well as money, it takes to adopt a child. And after that point there was the potential of emotional or physical concerns with the child. Not that I wasn't willing to do all of those things and help a child through any issues they may have; I guess I just wasn't quite ready to adopt. See, the thing with trying to conceive is that it may or may not happen any given month. With adoption, as long as you keep on working on it, fighting for it, it will happen - you will have a child. Maybe not immediately, and hey, let's be honest - it could easily be years - but there is no more 'chance' involved. I have never once thought that adoption would mean that I loved the child less, or that my family wasn't a family - and I don't want you to think that's what was going on here. In fact, I always thought quite the opposite. If I adopted a child, that's a child I WORKED for, that I FOUGHT for. That child would be just as much, if not more, my child. And that, my friends, is scary.

So in March we decided to think about it some more. Take a break from talking to each other about it - and just really think about it, marinate on our own thoughts for a few months. And to think about it with the caveat that maybe we should wait until I am done with my master's degree to actually start the process. That would give us about 2.5 years of breathing room. Silent sigh.

March 2010 was an extra busy month. I traveled to Colorado for a week, and to Texas for a turn and burn. I had midterms, I had spring break, work was extra stressful and sucked a lot of additional hours of my life away. I didn't even get to celebrate my Irish Christmas (St. Patrick's Day).

Then came March 24th. I realized I was a little 'late'. I thought that if I had a pregnancy test in the closet, I'll take one in the morning. I had a cheap generic test in there, from god knows where, and for god knows how long. So I took it, and I went downstairs to let out the dogs, slurp some coffee and smoke 2 cigarettes - you know, my morning health ritual. I went back upstairs to jump in the shower and get ready for work. I was brushing my teeth and I glanced at the test sitting on the back of the toilet. I thought, 'Hmm, that's weird, there's two lines'. Wait, what? I ransacked the closet, looking for the cheap, generic box to make sure I was reading it right - and it wasn't something crazy like two lines is negative, one is positive (hey, you never know!). I was reading the test correctly. I've never seen a positive pregnancy test before, except in pictures and in the movies. I was shaking so much that I couldn't call the husband. It took me awhile to calm down enough to call...and all he could say was 'I don't believe you' over and over again. I have to say that I totally understood that sentiment.

So all day I was on Cloud 9, with my little bun in my well padded oven. And then The Fear set in. What if it goes away? It took us so long, there is no way this pregnancy is viable. What if it was a false positive? It happens...well, not really, but I guess it could - and if it was going to happen it would happen to me. I had to wait three weeks for my first ultrasound. Then the nice technician lady showed me my beautiful little blob on the screen, complete with strong heartbeat. I was so relieved, and so happy - walking around with my little bun in my ever-increasingly well padded oven. And then The Fear set in. What if there is some awful chromosomal abnormality, and my body rids me of it? Every twinge, every time I feel temporary relief from a pregnancy symptom I think - this is it, this is the beginning of the end.

I am now 11 weeks pregnant. My risk of miscarriage is down to 5% (that's pretty low, although obviously odds are not usually in my favor). A week from Monday I have an ultrasound, and you can bet your bottom that until then I will be walking around worrying about my little bun in my well padded oven. After that ultrasound I anticipate approximately 24-48 hours of some Cloud 9 walking and relief from the worrying.

As I sit here, I'm thinking - when will I stop worrying? Maybe after the bun graduates from college. Then again, I'll have to worry about the bun getting a good job, if the bun is leading a happy life, and potentially his/her little buns, too.

I've never been so very happy to be so very worried about something in my life.

PS - In case you were wondering or concerned, smoking and coffee consumption have not been an option since I saw that second line. It's amazing how that happens. I didn't think I could live without either, and now they both seem like teeny-tiny sacrifices.

I saw it on CSI.

I'm short on time lately - work is killing me, I am trying to get all my schizer together to get back in school and, well, I like to drink wine on the weekends with this guy...so sorry to be negligient!

*This is a real conversation I had recently* I am not proud...and no, I don't remember how it started.

Ranger: Would you give someone your panties after sex?

Me: No way - it's a trophy, and personally I consider that demeaning.

LWITW: I would never!

Ranger: Why not?

LWITW: Because my DNA is on them. Someone could rob a 7-11 and frame me!

Ranger: You think someone will rob a 7-11 with your dirty panties?

LWITW: Yes! And then I'll go to jail. I saw it on CSI.

Me: I've got nothing.

Happy Friday :)

DC handles snow as well as I handle tequila

So we are on the verge of a major winter weather event. This morning I grabbed my coffee, my bagel and my newspaper and headed to the basement to watch some news and do my mandatory Sunday morning lazy time. Every local news station had hit their panic button. A few regular new stories followed by - at ten minute intervals - the weatherman appearing and talking about the 6-8 inches we are getting. One news anchor said it's time to stock up on milk and bread. Because yes, people, with 6-8 inches of snow you will be buried in your home for weeks! Weeks! Maybe even a month.

Ok, I know 6-8 inches is a good amount of snow. But I'm from Chicago - 6-8 inches will probably get you a snow day, but it's certainly not the end of the world. My husband is from the Boston area. When it snows 6-8 inches they call it 'spring'. I guess I'm just not a fair judge of winter weather. So I called my BFF in Atlanta, who had just gotten some snow from this storm. I asked her if she was doing okay and she thought that maybe I was drunk or thought I was talking to someone else. She said it wasn't bad - and she was still alive - and no awful things like suffering from spontaneous diarrhea had happened as result of the weather.

On to the tequila. When I was younger and dumber I loved doing shots of tequila. It inevitably ended with me making out with strangers, jumping in the back of some random guy's pick up truck to go to a 4 am bar, or running away from 'that crazy guy calling my name' who happened to be my dad. Good times. Yes, I know my parents must be proud of me.

So, DC rest assured, you are not the only one who can't hang.

Nicknames

When I'm on the metro, I've taken to nicknaming people I see often on my daily commute. I imagine most people do this, and if they were to nickname me it's either orange backpack or doghair coat lady. Those lint rollers I bought at Ikea really suck. But I digress.

There's the guy who always has a ton of stuff. He has a huge briefcase with papers and files sticking out of it, his coffee, his full edition of the newspaper, and his lunch. I call him everything but the kitchen sink man. He runs up to the train and cuts in front of me to get a good seat...when it's usually pretty empty at 6 am at my station anyway. Whatever kitchen sink. You do your thing if it makes you feel better.

There's the woman who is super slow on the escalators and wears skirt suits with nylons and white socks and sneakers. Now, if you actually wear sneakers for comfort wouldn't you think you'd be able to move just a bit faster than me in my heels? She goes by molasses in my mind.

And then there's the guy who is about 5'4, wears huge glasses, and has a backpack the size of himself. I like to call him moleman. Moleman actually seems like a very nice guy, he always has a smile on his face and I feel guilty for nicknaming him...but I can't help it, I'm an awful person.

These are three of my favorites. I wonder if anyone has better nicknames out there?

I was tagged

First off, I want to thank this lady for tagging me. She's an amazing person and I am truly lucky to have gotten to know her over the past year.

The rules:

A) Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Alright, so I'm still pretty new - not sure if I'm going to tag anyone yet but I'll play along :)

B) Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with "Honest Scrap." Well, there's no prize.

C) List at least 10 honest things about yourself.

1. I love Domino's pizza. Why is this honest? Because I am from Chicago, and people from Chicago generally snub chain pizzerias because, well, Chicago is known for its pizza. But I still love it, always have and always will. It doesn't replace some of my hometown faves, but it's a different kind of love - sort of like Taco Bell. It's not really Mexican, but it's still good stuff.

2. Most days I feel like I have no idea what I am doing or how the hell I got here. It's like I got wrapped up in this life and it just kept gaining momentum and carried me away. It's not a bad thing, I just don't feel like I deserve a lot of the good things that have happened to me. I guess it's just plain dumb luck.

3. I have the sense of humor of an 8 year old boy. Farts = funny. People falling down = funny. One of my best friends accidentally discharging 2-pam through her thumb = tears in my eyes. (I still feel badly for laughing at you, but my god, it was funny...) My brother having an undescended testicle for the first week of his life and no one telling him about it until a Dr. discovered a hernia = almost-wet-my-pants hilarious. (Note: I didn't laugh at him when he or my mom told me, I was able to maintain my composure until I got off the phone). Am I evil? I don't think so...I just like to laugh at people :) And trust me, I laugh at myself. I do a lot of really stupid things, it would be a waste to not laugh at myself.

4. When I see any animal that has been hit by the side of the road, it makes me sad. When I see homeless people, I feel badly for them and wondered how they got there. I try to pretend like most things don't bother me most of the time, but they do. I'm super sensitive.

5. I love sleep. I love sleep so very much, it's my absolute favorite. Unfortunately this guy likes to "do stuff" all the time, which impinges on my sleepy time.

6. When I get really cranky, it's usually because I feel like I'm not good enough (I need to lose weight, I suck at my job, I'm not smart enough, I can't paint, etc.)...and I take it out on others. Mostly the gentleman referenced above, but luckily he's even keeled and very sweet, and puts up with my moods.

7. I hate eggs and mayonnaise. I think that they are both disgusting in smell, consistency and taste. I have finally gotten to the point where if I accidentally get mayo on my food at a restaurant I can still eat it. Which is a good thing, because I really hate to be 'that girl' that returns food. But if I accidentally get egg on a breakfast sandwich, I toss it. Luckily I don't eat breakfast out that often, so it's not a huge life problem of mine.

8. I'm pretty sarcastic in person, and I think sometimes people think I am serious. No, I don't really think I am awesome. And no, I don't think that 12 hour work day was great. It's sarcasm, and yes, I can dead-pan, it doesn't mean that what I am saying is what I actually mean. Sarcasm is a little more difficult in writing though...so if something sounds off, probably sarcasm.

9. I like my dogs more than I like most people. Which isn't saying anything really, because my dogs have unconditional love for me and think I am the best thing since Beggin Strips. And I like that they love me so much, I'm not going to lie. Maybe if you got so excited every time you saw me that you wagged your whole body I'd like you, too.

10. I have always had a crush on Conan O'Brien. More so when he was still somewhat new and pretty quirky. I think my new crushes are Steven Colbert & Joel McHale, but really, who doesn't love those guys? I guess if I am being honest, I should say I have a girl crush, too. It's Jennifer Aniston.

Alright, that's 10. I'm exhausted from all this truthiness.

Texas

I've been in Texas for the week for work. I used to live in Texas, not by choice, but nonetheless I lived here for about 2 years. When I lived in TX, I could not wait to get out. I lived in Del Rio, which is about 3 hours west of San Antonio. Didn't think there was anything west of San Antonio? Well, you are correct! I was in the middle of no where, and the town was fondly referred to as 'Hell Rio' and 'Del Crappo'.

But there were good things about living in Del Rio, and here's a few in case you were curious:

- It was the first time J and I lived together since we were together, and also since we had been married. Unfortunately, we also worked together. Which, no matter how good your relationship is (and we have a good one) is trying at times.

- I adopted 3 pets, mostly because I had nothing better to do and I *love* animals. I'm pretty sure the only reason J went along with it is because he was bored, too. Otherwise we would have just had fish.

- I was in the best shape of my life. I worked out every morning, either running or doing the elliptical for 45 minutes. Every night I went on a 3 mile walk.

- I started clipping coupons. We'd get the Sunday paper and just clip away! For three months we got free cat food just from clipping out of the Sunday paper. I love coupons now - I know it makes me seem old, but whatever!

- I had a tan (well, tan for me is a healthy color for normal people). Not because I tried, but because it was SW Texas, and if you spend any time outside you get some color.

- We made some good friends, that we would drink and play poker with on the weekends. These were the kinds of friends who you could ask to watch your pets if you were going out of town, borrow their car, lend you a hand moving, walk into your house whenever. We were pretty tight, I think it might have been the shared boredom, but I miss them.

- There was no traffic. Although the van that had no driver slowly rolling across the Walmart parking lot was pretty scary, I sometimes think that that unattended, moving van was safer than some of the drivers in the metro DC area.

- I spent like *no* money. We lived on base, and there was nothing to buy and no where to go. In fact, I forgot my debit card pin number for a week because I hadn't used it in so long. Luckily, it came to me one day and I was able to buy a churro.

- Dairy Queen and Sonic. I think that's self explanatory.

Although I was not looking forward to this trip, because of ridiculously long work days and the overall being in Texas thing, it certainly reminded me that every cloud has a silver lining. I am glad I had my time in Texas for the above reasons, but it also reminds me that I am grateful to live somewhere now where my weekends consist of more than a trip to Walmart, and possibly dinner at Chili's.

I'm that person

I have been out of the office at a conference for the past day and a half. First off, the conference was intense and overwhelming to say the least. It was aimed at driving a strategic policy that is a) way over my head at this point in my career and b) expected to be part of my job. So I was a bit frazzled. I think I handled the bulk of it well, but when everyone in the room has a good 20 years over you...well, that's initimidating. Not to mention the fact that most of the people in the room are able to dismantle bombs, while I can't even figure out how to replace the razor cartridge on my Venus.

I was able to get back to the office late yesterday afternoon, after a lunch with some peeps I used to know. It was great to be able to talk to people on the same wavelength (and age group), and I felt better about my conference in general. Anyway, back to the office. So it's around 2:30 by the time I sat my butt down in my cozy cubicle. (which, by the by, it's like 108 degrees in here everyday, so I think we should call it a melticle or something that doesn't allude to being frigid). My division is nestled in another division, which we really have nothing in common with and no reason to be colocated with. No one said a word to me for the remainder of the day. No - 'Hey, where have you been?' 'Hi, how are you?' 'Can you pass me that fax?' 'Do you smell that?' Not a word, not a grunt, not a look. I felt like that episode of Friends where whoever the guy is who used to play George Costanza played an office worker threatening suicide, and no one paid attention. Except Phoebe, who was a telemarketer, and tried to help him. Yeah...I felt like that guy! I didn't realize how very little I interact with others in my office throughout the day.

I'm starting to feel like I am an island over here. But truth be told, listening to these people converse, I'm not sure I'd fit in or want to be a part of their group. I am not a Republican who considers the president elect a communist who will ruin the country. When someone announces the birth of a baby, I don't compare that to my cat. I don't speak in a monotone. I have not yet gone through either menopause or male pattern baldness.

I wish I had a coworker my age, because I could seriously use a beer-thirty today. Except instead of beer, I'd substitute a flavored martini that would help me feel warm, fuzzy and generally jovial the entire metro ride home. Have a great weekend everyone!

Housewifey with a houseknifey...

I am starting a 5 day break today at 5pm, and anytime I have a lot of time off I am reminded of my attempt at housewifery, and why I will always have a job.

When I got out of the military, I had 4 weeks off - paid by using some of the leave I had saved up during my 4 years - before I started my new job. I didn't have a whole lot of money, seeing as I was relocating from Del Rio, TX to Washington, DC and adjusting to the cost of living, renting a house, buying work clothes, etc. So travel was not an option, otherwise I would have been long gone, at the very least, visiting family. Nonetheless, I was looking forward to 4 weeks off to do as I pleased, relax and all in all be peaceful. Well, that didn't work out as planned. This is the 4 weeks off at home, as I remember the experience.


Week 1: Wake up at 0730. Get paper. Drink a glass of water. Walk dogs on a nice, long walk through the neighborhood, stopping to chit chat with friendly neighbors. Come home, read paper, drink coffee. Shower. Eat light lunch. Go to store/organize house/clean/do yardwork. Begin baking something - either muffins, cookies, cake or bread. Finish baking. Start dinner for husband. Husband comes home, eat dinner together. Hang out with husband, go to bed.

Week 2: Wake up at 0900. Slurp coffee. Walk dogs on abbreviated walk, waving at friendly neighbors. Eat sandwich, peruse paper. Shower. Either go to store, organize house, clean or yardwork. Watch TV for awhile. Start dinner. Husband comes home, eat dinner together, drink some wine. Hang out with husband, drinking more wine. Go to bed.

Week 3: Wake up at 1000. Drink coffee. Let dogs out in backyard. Read paper while eating chips and salsa for breakfast/lunch and dripping on paper. Shower. Watch TV. Do laundry or something to not look like a complete good-for-nothing. Make something quick for dinner while drinking. Leave plate out for husband for when he comes home. Drink wine while he eats. Watch more TV. Go to bed.

Week 4: Wake up whenever. Let dogs out in yard. Watch TV and drink coffee. Screw the paper, no need for the new neighbors to see me in this state. Eat tortilla because it's there and requires no effort. Watch more TV. Shower. Tell husband he can make himself a sandwich, I'm too tired and who does he think I am anyway - a maid/personal chef? Drink wine. Stumble to bed/sleep on couch.

Cheers to those who can be productive and happy without the structure of work. I will never be able to be one of you. And if I ever decide to be a housewife, my husband said he'd leave me.

Cubicle, Oh Cubicle

I work in a cubicle farm. Lots of workers pounding away at their keyboards, efficiently working like little wind up toys. Or so the theory goes.

I sit next to the loudest woman in the world. This LWITW talks on the phone like she is yelling across the room, even when it is a normal conversation and she is actually not trying to yell at the person (although she does actually yell at people quite often). It's pretty hard to concentrate with her yelling and all, but what really takes the cake is her mispronunciation and misuse of words and common phrases. Twice I have heard her tell someone that what they were doing 'would not pass the mustard'. I am fairly certain she meant 'would not pass muster'...but now I have started saying it because I secretly make fun of it in my head so much. Someone told LWITW a joke a few weeks ago that included the phrase 'y'all', but she misunderstood and thought that they had said 'mule' so now she refers to our organization as 'the mule' - thinking it is an insider term that she now has in her vocabulary. I am such an easily influenced person when it comes to pronunciation that I fear for my own words...it's like LWITW is taking them all away from me!

One final gripe...I hate, hate, hate loud chewers/open mouth chewers. And as such, it is my lot in life to be surrounded by them wherever I go...so either a) there are a lot of loud/open mouth chewers or b) I still have really bad karma for that cat I hit 10 years ago and then buried and cried over. It's the only bad thing I have ever done (yeah...right...but it's probably one of the worst, and I still feel bad to this day for it)

Anyway, LWITW not only talks loudly, she also chews with her mouth open, smacking her food around. And she is contantly eating 'squishy' things like oranges and 'crunchy' things like apples and cookies and sucking on suckers. Who sucks on suckers - besides kids, 20 something chicks trying to be sexy, and ex-smokers? LWITW, that's who. It makes my skin crawl, I imagine that on the other side of the partition is a woman sucking the internal organs out of a chipmunk...because that is exactly what it sounds like to me.

I hope you pass the mustard today.

Holiday Mish-Mash

We went to Handel's Messiah on Saturday night at the Kennedy Center. The music was amazing, however we left at intermission...3 hours of music in a warm theater with old people passing gas was just a little too much for us...

I'm having a holiday party on Friday (maybe you've heard, it's the must-attend party of the season...) and I'll try to bring the camera out. I'm getting a trim on my unruly hair on Wednesday (took the day off, yay for a 2 day work week!) because at this point my hair and I are disagreeing on everything. It wants to flip out, I want it to flip under, so apparently we compromised and one side flips outward and the other sits right and flips under. Did that even make sense?

We exchanged gifts early this year, the husband is working through the morning of the 26th. I got J a fish tank that now weighs approximately 300 lbs and has 10 goldfish in it as test subjects for the water quality. J was like, you know - people treat fish differently than other pets. No one would buy 10 kittens to see if they all survived. I would, but that's another story for another day that involves Texas puppy and kitten hunting. I feel badly about the fish though, and if they survive I would like to bring them back to the store so they can find a new home. I don't expect a refund - they were 10/$1.00 anyway, poor things are basically food for other fish. But from what the super cool fish store guy told me, keeping them is not an option, they will make the tank dirty. Yuck.

My wedding anniversary was yesterday. 4 years! Only 6 more until we go through crisis and start having affairs with college students. Happy Anniversary sweetie, if you read this!

Happy Holidays all!

Drifting

Lately I've been drifting...I am drifting away from people, drifting through life, drifting and just going where the world steers me. I don't think this is what I want...and it's certainly not what I had in mind for my future. And it has made me depressed - and I don't have much to look forward to these days. Even the weekends are all the same, boring and unfulfilling - and isn't that the time that is supposed to make the work week seem worthwhile?

So let's make a list of what I can do to regain control:

~Assert independance. I was always a very independant person growing up, I never listened to anyone - and did what I wanted to do, sometimes it was the right choice, and sometimes it most definitely was not. So I need to regain that control in my life. I'm not a 'we' person, and somehow I became one. What the heck happened to me?

~Work out. Yup, it seems like an old-as-time patch to any of life's problems, but I feel that working out really does help me feel stronger inside as well as out. I need to get back into that! Lately I've been putting it off because I have limited time at home with my long work days - but I think I should go to the gym instead sitting at home from 6:00 on and doing nothing.

~Enroll in classes. I need to get working on my degree again. It's true that my job is far from my dream job, and my degree is certainly not my dream degree. But I need something - and then maybe I can go on to do something else. (Like a master's in something I actually want to do...)

~Volunteer. I think I want to start volunteering, preferrably with an organization that I can attach with. I'm thinking the humane society...but I'm undecided and need to do some research.

I think that's enough for now - it's a pretty hefty list and I need to get started on it, and nothing changes over night. I'm tired of drifting and being 'blah' all the time. I need to re-energize, re-charge and become who I want to be instead of just being this boring run of the mill person. I want more...and I need to work for it. And maybe by starting on at least some of these things, opportunities will appear that will help me on my journey. Maybe a service trip, maybe a career in helping people, maybe a life somewhere else. Who knows? Maybe I will not get any of these things - but the life I have now will begin to become more of what I want and less of what I now realize I don't want.

Changes

Life has really changed since I started this blog a year ago. Not that I've been great at keeping up with it, but you know - life is busy!

So I changed course with my education and gave up Nursing for a degree in Emergency Management. It's what I do - it's what I did in the military, it's what I've been doing for the past year, and it's what has gotten me promoted to a position where I work with generals and chiefs. Yeah...I feel pretty out of place most of the time, especially since everyone has a good 20 years on me - but I also have to admit I feel pretty darn proud of myself for working my way there.

Still not pregnant, huge shocker, I know. I'm starting to consider adoption at this point, we'll see what happens with that. I really am a true believer in that people should not have more than 2 kids (one to replace you, one to replace your significant other) - because the rate that population is expanding is alarming and we are working ourselves into more and more economic and environmental pitfalls, and eventually extinction. I know that this view would enrage a lot of people, so I generally keep it to myself when talking to others. So, along with that view - comes a hefty anti-fertility treatment perspective. My heart aches for a baby, but I also think that if I feel that the population is expanding too much, I shouldn't contribute to the problem. Maybe my path is adoption, not procreating. Like I said - we'll see what happens. I'm not sure that I will ever be able to completely give up hope, but I'm ready to start looking into other options.

Finally, Happy Veteran's Day to all how have served or are currently serving! Your sacrifice is appreciated. A special thank you to those who have been injured or lost their lives in this or past wars. There are too many of you...and it makes my stomach sink to think of the loved ones you leave behind or the journeys that you have to face to get well. Simply and whole heartedly, thank you.

She don't need to look pretty...

I hate being a bridesmaid. I didn't do this to my friends (since I eloped in Germany) - yet they almost all have done it to me. I get it, it's their day, they can act out whatever wedding plans they made. But the travel, the dress, the time spent, the catty comparing of so-and-so's wedding to theirs, and of course the gift...and I am usually dateless because my husband is often unavailable. So I end up getting hit on by creepy men, because although I am not one to think of myself as attractive, I generally clean up well.

The Current Bridesmaid Experience:

Speaking with one of the other bridesmaids, I remarked on how pretty she looked all dressed up. She said that she hated dressing up and wouldn't do it again for a long time. Her fiancee was standing there, and I said something along the lines of 'Doesn't she look pretty? You two should take a picture dressed up together' He says, verbatim: 'She don't need to look pretty to mow my lawn'. It was a conversation stopper, so I went back to my glass of wine and husband. Earlier in the festivities I had endured a painful story by a 'self proclaimed Jesus Girl' that ended with 'and homosexuality is so wrong'. Later on in the evening I ended up calling her a bad word to her face, and she deserved it. Woudln't have done it without copious amounts of wine, but I can't say I'm sorry for being honest :) I.could.not.wait.to.get.home. Seriously. But the wine did help. A lot.

Karma

Okay, so I bought some stuff from Ann Taylor and I had all these vouchers for $20 off $50 or more, but I only spent $100 (well, $60 with my sweet coupons), and I had two left. So I left them with the cashier to give to the next customer, I mean why waste them, right? And she was like, wow, that's so nice of you - she was in shock and kept going on about it. Why can't people be nice? Seriously? Why is being kind the exception, not the rule???

I found a check on the ground while I was at work today and I am mailing it back to the originator (I didn't want to leave it, it had their DL#'s and obviously their address and account number). And I helped a girl out with directions who was in tears because her cell phone died and she couldn't find anyone to help her. So maybe some of this good karma will come back to me! MAYBE, but I'm not counting on it. If karma is listening, I would like my payback in the form of a healthy baby. I only want 2 kids, so one now and another in about 2 years please. Thanks, karma.

Socks

When I first met my husband, he had this terrible habit of taking off his socks anywhere and everywhere, and just leaving them there. He 'claims' they pull the hair on his feet and legs, making it uncomfortable. As a female, I have hairless feet to I can't pretend to know if this is truly an issue that the hairy footed experience. So essentially, back to the point, his apartment floor was carpeted with stray socks.

I slowly broke him of this habit, so he would actually put his socks in the dirty clothes hamper. I was thrilled that by the time we moved in together, I didn't have to deal with dirty socks everywhere.

About a year later, the socks started reappearing. I was NOT happy, all that work down the drain, what could have caused this regression? Suddenly, my socks also started appearing in random places around the house, why would my husband put my socks everywhere too? It was our new dog, Z...to this day, she fishes through the dirty hamper for socks to carry around in her mouth. My best friend came to visit, and after she left, I found one dirty sock of hers in Z's bed. When my mom came to visit, again, one dirty sock of hers in Z's bed. I am guessing she holds on to these mementos to remember some of her favorite people :)

Blogger Virgin

A little bit about myself for those of you who are bored and stumble upon this:

~I try to be a good person, and I try to do random acts of kindness. That doesn't always work out so well, and sometimes it backfires...
~I firmly believe that wine can solve any and all of my life problems
~I like my dogs and cat more than I like most people
~When I truly believe in something, I can get pretty heated
~I love hummus
~I get annoyed at metro riders who are unfamiliar with the rules and get in my way
~I am sarcastic, and some people take that the wrong way and think I am a witch
~I dislike people who drive in the left lane of 495 going the speed limit
~I love cheese, especially fried cheese and beer cheese fondue
~I have no interest in sports
~I can be very awkward in social situations until the booze kicks in
~I don't like when people simply blog about their daily lives without an interesting take on it, and refer people to 'their blog' because it's simply too exhausting to email/call/post to their friends about it.
~I like prison shows and true crime, maybe too much
~My guilty pleasure is the E! channel, especially 'The Soup'
~I love my best friends, even though they live far away, they are my favorite people in the world
~I love all of the mistakes I have made
~I think Tom Cruise is crazazy
~I think reality TV show stars get far too much coverage and credit for being douchebags