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Thursday, February 24, 2011

Grammer

My obsession with correcting others' grammatical errors began in a small classroom. It was seventh grade English and I hated it. We had paper back books that served as work/text books. While most of my classmates used their books for assignments, I used mine for practicing signing my name, listing all of my friends and drawing random animals, flowers and swirlys. I was a doodler.

This particular class was terrible. It was immediately after lunch so we were all fighting off the afternoon slump and trying our best to pay attention to our teacher explain prepositional phrases and gerunds. Gerunds? I don't even know what that word means anymore.

The only thing that kept us awake was the sporadic gas episodes of a fellow classmate. He would eat bean and cheese quesadillas EVERY SINGLE DAY for lunch. While we were all doing everything we could to stay awake, he was over in the corner gassing all of us. We would break out into fits of laughter and shake violently. Half of us were beet red and the other half was doubled over. It was disgusting, but thinking back on that muggy classroom makes me chuckle every time.

We never had the heart to tell the teacher what we were laughing at because we didn't want to hurt his feelings. We suffered through it for better or worse. Oh, how I lived for pizza day. He loved pizza so we were all spared the first and third fridays of the month.

God bless Pizza Hut. Amen.

Anyway, I became addicted to correcting grammar after that point. To this day, I can her someone say "I'm doing good," or, "I ain't never seen that before" from a mile away. Call me a snob or know it all if you will, but I just can't help myself.

The other day after a particularly long day at work, I was driving home when a sign caught my attention. It was for a new store downtown advertising affordable fashions.

"Fashion with flair at prices you can bare."

Bare? Unless we're undressing the prices, I'm guessing someone didn't run that slogan through a word processor.

I do love my small town and the local dialect does come with its own unique set of grammatical allowances and quirks. The locals can keep their double negatives.

I'll just keep fighting the good fight.

Nothing's worser than bad grammer, after all.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Jelly

While I was in college, the oversized wrist watch trend hit. And hit it did. Everyone I knew had a Michael Kors watch. One friend's was gold, another's cream. Mine is tortoise shell.

There's also a black one that I accidentally bought one day when I was feeling sorry for myself. They're beautiful watches and I had to stop going to Nordstrom because two is more than enough.

I'm attaching pictures below so that you can get a good visual. That, and to help you appreciate the following story fully.


As you all do not know, I have recently begun working at an insurance agency in the smallest town I've ever frequented. It's the good kind of small town. It's got a few cute shops, a drug store/everything store, and two and a half restaurants. I say a half because most of them are closed on numerous days of the week. Except Subway. 

I wore black pants on the first day of work and the towns people looked at me like I was an alien. I wore wedges on the second day and the towns people looked at me like I was an alien. I wore jeans and sandals on the third day and the towns people smiled at me and didn't stare. It was a great relief.

On the fourth day I wore my tortoise shell watch to work. I actually wear it every day, but this day I had on 3/4 sleeves and it was easily visible.

I was talking to a particular lady who must have been in her sixties. We were almost done with our conversation when she spotted my watch. 

**Time out. Let me take this moment to say that the only mall that sells these watches is two hours away from this town. It is highly likely that she has seen my watch or even knows who Michael Kors is, juding by her elastic ankle sweat pants. I take great pride in my accessories so the following conversation metaphorically knocked the wind out of me.**

Spotting my watch, she says "Oh, I've got one of them jelly watches but it's purple. I got it at the drug store and I paid $5 for it. I hear people pay as much as $10 for them. That's just too much if you ask me." 

This is a jelly watch.


Welcome to rural Georgia. You can pick up your watch at the drug store. Just watch for price gouging. I hear they charge $10 in some parts.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Hiatus

I'm a terribly inconsistent blogger. I know this.

I also know that my brain isn't formulating coherent sentences today.

I've spent the past week studying 10 hours a day. The good news is I passed the state insurance licensing tests. The bad news is that I fried a whole bunch of synapses and I fear they're down for the count.

As a result, my brain is taking a break and I can't do nothin' about it. Maybe it'll come back to me by morning. I sure do hope so. I need it for work.

Say a prayer and cross yourselves or whatever you non-Catholics do.

(I'm a Baptist. I cross myself, too. Makes me feel like I'm adding some good juju onto my prayers.)

Good night, y'all.

Ps. I jumped into my bed after sprinting across my dark room. I have issues.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Wax On, Wax Off

The other day I was reading an article about parents who put their children in beauty pageants. One woman was forcing her 5 year old to get a spray tan and have her eyebrows waxed. To say that I think this is nonsense and that woman needs to be put in an institution would be an understatement. Bad parenting aside, it reminded me of an incident that happend a few years ago.

Back home, I've got this little Cambodian lady who does my nails. Her name is Mrs. Sarah and I have been going to her for 10+ years. To say she loves me is an understatement. She kisses me, hugs me, tells everyone within earshot how good of a girl I am and how smart I am. She blows up my ego big time.

Mrs. Sarah also does my eyebrows every now and then. She is the exception in eyebrow waxing. I never found anyone as good as her in Atlanta and I'll stick with her now that I'm back home. She does such a great job. I've referred countless friends to her and they love her as well. Never has she ever messed up my eyebrows. My face, on the other hand...

It was a crisp fall day and I had just left work and decided to get my eyebrows done on my way home.  Mrs. Sarah had a salon full of older women who were getting their lips, chins, cheeks, and any other hairy facial feature they had waxed. I think she even waxed someone's nose. We were all chatting and laughing and I waited my turn patiently.

When I sat in the chair Mrs. Sarah said "Ooohh guhhh... You need eyebrow! You wait long time come see me. I do for you!"

I told her I was sorry and told her to fix me up good. She then pointed toward my temple and told me that to get a really good shape she'd wax all the way out there to clean it up. I didn't know my eyebrows grew out there, but hey, I'm not the expert! I told her to do what she had to do. She waxed my eyebrows and after she stripped the last cloth off, I gripped the chair arms to pull myself up to take a look. But, before I could do it, I felt her put wax on my CHEEK! My cheek? My cheeks aren't hairy!

"Mrs. Sarah! What are you doing!"
-"It will make it smooth... beautiful like model!"
"Mrs. Sarah I don't need that."
-"It's ok. I won't charge. Just let me do other cheek."

Let me break the story to explain one thing: waxing virgin skin leads to pimpling and redness and all sorts of bad things. By the time I walked out of there, she'd waxed 3/4 of my face.
My make-up wouldn't stick to my face because she'd removed the top layer of skin so I only had makeup on my forehead, nose and chin areas. Two days later, it broke out into the worst acne of my life. I stayed inside for as long as I could and when I did go into public I caked on so much make-up I looked like one of "those girls" from middle school.

Let this be a lesson to you girls. If you feel your esthetician moving toward any unanticpated areas, act fast! Grab their wrist if you have to!

I will say that Mrs. Sarah does do the best eyebrows and gives one mean pedicure. Here is the information incase you want to go see her. I highly recommend that you do! Just don't let her wax your face.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Who am I?

As you can tell from my posts, I have a wealth of stories from my childhood with which I like to entertain my audience. Some of you may know me very well and others not at all. Who am I really? Well, I'm glad you asked.

1. I am from a small town in Georgia. Not one red-light small but not big enough to have a Macy's, either.

2. I like to fry my food and then smother it in gravy. I've got the sneaking suspicion that my jeans are going to start forming a militia.

"Step AWAY from the Crisco," they'll demand.

Until then, I fry.

3. I live with Granny and Papa. Granny likes doing laundry. She's the perfect roommate. Papa reads my mail, burns my trash (another story for another time), and snoops around my room when I'm not home. He's not the perfect roommate.

4. I'm terrified that someone is going to be hiding under my bed waiting to slit my Achilles tendons so I get a running start and jump onto my bed. This only applies to beds that don't have bed skirts (i.e. beds that I can see under), though. I don't understand the rationale behind that but it is what it is.

This fear is the consequence of reading a flyer that circulated around area churches when I was approximately 14 years old. "Gangsters" were hiding under the cars of young girls and slitting their ankles so that they could take them off and murder them. Another of these "circulations" warned against taking change out of a payphone (ha, payphone) because needles containing HIV were lurking, waiting to stab you and infect you. My favorite was the one warning against movie theater seats that contained these needles.  To this day, I check my seat for HIV needles before I plop my butt down to watch a flick.

Today, we would call this nonsense SPAM and delete it from our inboxes but 11 years ago preachers were reading it as though it were news from the CDC. Lawd.

5. I've got two chicken pox scars between my eyes. I told granny that I fell and they came off but I really picked them off myself. What was I thinking!

6. I am a back seat driver. I can't help it.

7. I am a back seat everything. I may not know what you're doing but I can offer up at least 10 ways to improve and streamline the process.

8. I like to peel things. Tape, paint, sunburnt skin... No peeling surface is safe when I'm around.

9. I was so traumatized by school lunch room mashed potatoes that I didn't touch them again until I was 16 or so.

10. I have since made up for the lack of mashed potatoes in my earlier years. I need to step AWAY from the mashed potatoes.

11. I will not step away from the mashed potatoes.

12. I am supposed to be studying right now. I am a procrastinator.

That's all for today! See y'all tomorrow!

P.s. I am happy to report that Granny's cell phone is still working.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Impaired

I love my Granny. She is a woman of many talents. She can cook like nobody's business. She can bake a caramel cake that will make you cry. She irons her pillow cases and top sheets. Her hardwood floors are spotless at all times. And she's beautiful, too.

However, there is one arena that escapes her: Technology.

The woman is impaired. She can't for the life of her get past the mental hurdle that is figuring out computers, remote controls, and cell phones.

It's not uncommon for me to hear a knock on my door around midnight. 

"Hello? Granny is that you?"

I hear a giggle followed by, "We rolled on the remote again and the screen is in another language."

Don't even get me started on her working the computer. I'm sure you all can relate. 

Well, this morning took the cake. 

Granny came into my room informing me that her cell phone is broken. It won't work. Yesterday it died for the first time ever and and even though she charged it over night it's still dead and won't work. She brought it in to me and I looked at it. It was off, so I turned it on. 

"Granny, did you even turn it on?"

"Yes. I turned it on and it died again and it's not working and Liz couldn't get in touch with me and I have GOT to have my phone."

She was getting really frustrated with me because she thought I was insinuating that she didn't know what she was talking about. (She doesn't know what she's talking about.) I figured she needed a new battery so I sent her on her way.

She leaves to go pay the insurance man and I go about my business. Thirty minutes later she calls me exclaming that her phone is now fully operational. 

"It didn't die again?"

"No! Kim just called me and it worked!"

"Granny, did you even turn your phone on yesterday after it finished charging?"

*Crickets*

"You know that you have to turn it "On" after it has died to be able to use the phone don't you?"

"Uhhhh... You do?"

I'll never win.


Thursday, February 10, 2011

"I hope your commitment to blogging isn't any representation of your commitment to marriage."

I'm back! And I'm sorry! The past few weeks have been busy. And when I say busy I actually mean I've been doing a lot of visiting and busy bodying all around my hometown. You know, I had to get reacquainted and remind my old friends that I'm still alive and well!

A lot has changed since my last post, and a lot has stayed the same too. To avoid ten pages of nonsense, I'll be concise and let you know what I've been up to, what I haven't been up to, and what I'm straight avoiding:

1. My room is basically the same. I've still got things that need to be put away but there's so much of it that it depresses me to look at it so I just ignore it and hope that it will go away on its own. This is actually working out quite nicely. I came home the other day and Papa had shoved all of my miscellaneous junk around the perimeter in my room so that he could walk in and look around (read: he's nosey.) and see what all I've got.

2. I have made amends with my neglected (brace yourself) camouflage mud boots and we've become good friends. It's been raining cats and dogs around these parts and the only thing saving my Cole Haan flats is those boots.

3. I did some hunting stuff with my Helper and I wore my boots. And a camouflage jacket. I don't really like killing stuff but I like being outside, I like dressing the part, and I like him, too. I'm thinking of a new name for him, but he's been extra helpful lately so I'll stick to Helper.

4. Cooking. I've been cooking A LOT of stuff. I'm a frequent visitor of The Pioneer Woman, and I love her recipes so I'm always looking for ways to implement them into my repertoire.

5. You already know that I spent last weekend celebrating the birthdays of these two:



5. I mentioned that I've been cooking a lot more, but I failed to mention the reason why I have been cooking more frequently. It just so happens that all there is to do around here is cook and invite people over. So, that's what I've been doing. A couple of weeks ago my favorite boy and I had invited a few friends over to his house and I cooked for them. I'll post the recipe next. It's super easy and a sure-fire crowd pleaser.

6. I've spent a lot of time looking at stuffed animals.

7. I'm trying to come up with a new name for my blog so shoot me a message if you have any good ideas!

So, that's what I've been doing as of late. I'll be back to my regular posts by tomorrow. Bob willing.

Bye Y'all!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

My Baby

Today is my baby's first birthday. Ok, so she's actually my baby brother's baby, but I call her mine because I want her for myself and maybe, one day, if I say enough then it will be true. 

I was on a 12' ladder painting my bedroom when my mom called me in August of 2009 to tell me the news. I was going to be an Aunt. Again. I almost fell off the ladder. 

Months passed and many Ralph Lauren and Gap outfits I did buy. My heart filled with excitement and my bank account drained like a gas tank with a bullet hole. I was so excited for March. I couldn't wait to meet her!

At roughly 10:08 p.m. on February 8, 2010 (3 hours after Sam had Natalee) my mom texted me to ask me if I was sitting down. And I'm glad I was. My sister-in-law, Rachael, had gone in to pre-term labor. She wasn't due until March but had begun having contractions. The baby wasn't in the right position so they really needed to get her contractions under control. She and my brother had gone to the hospital to do just that.

At 12:00 a.m. on February 9, 2010 my baby brother called me to tell me that I needed to leave Athens and come home. They were going to do a C-Section and the baby was going to be here soon. I jumped in my car and headed back home immediately. I was crying and smiling and laughing and crying the whole way.

I was stopped about half way through my drive because apparently I was driving rather rapidly through a small town. The Sheriff didn't know whad to do with my blubbering self so he let me go with a warning. "Go on and see that baby niece, Sunny. Congratulations! And slow down sweetheart! The next guy down the road may not be so nice!"

When I finally got to the hospital, she was already here.

My brother greeted me outside of the room and informed me that Madi was on oxygen since she had been born early.  After I had a panic attack and lost all of the color in my face, he assured me that she was fine and that it was just a precaution.
 This was taken right after I'd arrived and before I'd seen her.

She was so tiny when she was born...



...but that changed FAST! Check out the cheeks!



I smile and tear up at the mention of her name. I could go on and on about how much I love her, but for now I'll let the pictures do the talking. There's plenty more time to gush about her later.


Four Months

Five Months

Six Months. Check out the hams!

Seven Months

Nine Months

Ten Months

Eleven Months

1 Year.

I honestly don't know what I did with all of the love in my heart before she was born. Where did I put it all?  She is one special little girl and we are all incredibly blessed to have her with us.

So, you see, today is very important! It's my sweet angel's birthday!

Happy Birthday Madi! 

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Do You Know How Important Today Is?

I'm feeling nostalgic today. I am going to ramble a bit, so please bear with me. This is a very special day!

One year ago today, I was still in college. It was my last Spring at The University of Georgia and I'd just returned to The Classic City from a short weekend trip home. My sister-in-law was expecting a baby girl in March and I had attended her baby shower. I was sitting on my sofa picking at my fingernails in avoidance of studying for a Women Writers exam when my mom texted me "She's finally here!"

"She" was my cousin Sam's first baby.

If you've read my blog, you have already met Sam. We were born a mere 5 months apart and she is the closest thing I have to a sister. When my mom was pregnant with me, she would lay Sam across her belly and I'd kick at her and they would talk to me. We learned to walk together, played in the mud together, ran away from home together at the ripe young age of 7 and we fought. Lord have mercy how we fought.

I remember one summer day we had really gotten into it about something. Probably one of us had tattled on the other one. Probably it was her telling on me because I was always doing stuff I didn't need to be doing. My mom and grandparents were hanging wallpaper in the living room and I remember my mom getting onto us. Instead of the standard punishment (a spanking and toungue lashing), my mom made us sit on that stupid green leather couch and hold hands. HOLD HANDS! I remember so much anger filling my little body that I wanted to kick and punch everyone in that room. Now that I'm older and have a different perspective, I can't wait to make my kids hold hands on the couch. It's way better than a spanking and I won't feel the least big guilty for it.

Back to Sam, though. When we graduated high school, we both moved off to go to college. On October 29, 2007 she shocked the you know what out of me by getting married. Married! While she was changing her last name, I was shopping for frozen dinners at Publix.



Have you ever seen two people get married who were both rebels in their youth and say, "Boy, those two are going to get it when they have kids"? That's Sam and Freddie.

One year ago today, they had their first baby. Natalee finally made her way into this world and she's had our attention and hearts ever since. She was wide eyed and beautiful when she got here and that hasn't changed a bit!

It is amazing to watch babies grow. You can almost see the changes happening before your eyes but not quite. I have enjoyed watching this little one over the past year. She has such a personality. She can stare you down in one moment and make you laugh until you cry in the next. She is really something, y'all.


Here are a few pics I stole from Sam's albums to show you why we all love her so much!

This is her car seat face!

This is her sleepy dreaming face.

This is a happy face!


This is her "I'm tired of taking pictures" face.

 The "You talkin to ME?" face.

This is the face her Papa can't say no to.

And this is the "Touch this computer before I finish looking
at my News Feed and we're going to have problems" face.

Happy Birthday to little Natalee. Look out for her, she's going places!