Bringing Blogging Back

Michael and I were hanging around in my room earlier tonight when, for whatever reason, I decided to post. Actually, I was hanging around my room and M was in the bathroom reading my 10 pound Vogue picture book on the porcelain throne. But, before I could type about WHY he was spending some quality time with bff John Crapper, I had a random urge to dig up truths from the past. MY XANGA. I had totally forgotten about it and hadn't checked in since my last blog post sometime in 2006 I think. And I thought I was a new blogger. False.... this is my second, and, after going back to read my Xanga, which I somehow remembered the log-in and password to, I believe my first attempt, at age 17, was MUCH better than this one has been so far. For one thing, after reading so many other people's blogs, I can't stop blogging as though my goal isn't to tell my invisible, non-existent readers about something, but to be really well-spoken, charming, and witty. I am transparent. I suck at being a journalist. Especially now since I just called my own bluff. OH WELL. But the point is that I was REAL then and I'm not 100% sure what I am now. And that seems odd, seeing as I was in high school during my last blog, and am now a college graduate. Shouldn't I have needed a reality check then? But I don't feel like that's the case. Maybe after 10 years if I take a look at this thing and compare it to the Xanga, I'll see the light. I'm hoping so. At any rate, the blast to the past got me excited to blog again. Even if there are no comments or readers at all. Maybe one of the best things about my old blog was that I wasn't droning on and on like I am here. I'll get better, hopefully. Before I drop the Xanga topic, I have to say that I was really surprised to see how freakishly the same I am from then to now. Here's a list:

-I still have never been drunk, done drugs, shoplifted, or cheated.
-I still don't understand why women want to tote around a kid in their uterus for 9 months before suffering labor and birth and DIAPERS. (oddly, this doesn't mean I'm totally opposed to doing this myself.)
-I am still a Georgia Bulldog. Even though I'm done with undergrad
-I'm still obsessed with RONALDINHO! (who is, for some stupid reason, not on the Brazilian national team for this World Cup.)
-I still enjoy (no really. or maybe not) bouts of hypochondria and anxiety.
-I still am too lazy to drive out to the barn often (doesn't help that Skipper's in a pasture with Eclipse, who will NEVER LET ME CATCH MY OWN HORSE).
-I still like designer jeans...and still know they're a rip off.
-I still want to be closer to God. And still get in my own way of forming a healthy relationship with Him every chance that I get.
-I still use all the hot water.
-I still don't like Wedding Crashers.

And, I guess there are a few differences:
-I no longer eat Uncrustables. Because I no longer eat gluten.
-I am WAY OVER the emo music stage. Like Jimmy Eat World and The Spill Canvas. Is it bad to say I'm embarrassed I was so into that stuff? And Yellowcard. Gag.
-I no longer have issues with boys. Only man. Only one :).... and only occasionally.
-I am no longer so pissed that Marissa died on The OC that I will scream.

There's other stuff, but I think I'll let the Xanga spin around in oblivion another 5 years and then dig it up again.

The whole original purpose of the blog post?
Michael and I decided to dinner at Frontera Mex-Mex Grill...He got steak fajitas and I got fajita nachos. He filled up on chips and salsa before we got our main courses (like 99% of the population does) and then felt like death afterwards. The summary, in closing, moral of the story here is a public service announcement. you're welcome in advance.

DON'T EAT GREASY NASTY SHIZNIT IN LARGE QUANTITIES. YOU WILL WANT TO PURGE. YOU WILL EVENTUALLY BECOME FAT. AND INDOLENT. AND AFTER THAT YOU WILL DEVELOP TYPE 2 DIABETES. LASTLY, YOU WILL HAVE A HEART ATTACK. AND DIE.


I already hear the thank yous galore raining down from the avid readers I don't have. To sleep!
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Can't make up my mind...

The last couple of days I've been contemplating what I want to blog about. For myself. Here's what I came up with.

1. All about my OCD, hypochondria, anxiety, etc. etc. Never a dull moment HAH!
2. The World Cup. I can't peel my eyes from the TV screen.
3. Healthy living and well-being.
4. How fascinating people are, and how much I love their blogs/facebooks/any insights into their souls.

It's after one-thirty in the morning, so I'm going to watch a couple of Ronaldinho videos on YouTube since I'm SO BUMMED he's not playing for Brazil/Brasil in this World Cup, and then I'm going to sleep. I will say, though, that I stumbled upon some girl's blog.. she lives in New York with her husband and daughter, she is flawlessly dressed, loves to run, and just oozes beauty and personality all over her blog. You know, blog design has a lot to do with your personality. And I'm a novice, but I've just got to find the right buttons to click to make this thing beautiful and maybe the kind of thing someone would want to read one day. But for now it's just me here, listening to myself.

PS: I might add that today would have been my Golden Retriever, Lady Joanna Ashley's...18th birthday today if we hadn't sent her with bags packed to Doggy Heaven almost 3 years ago. I miss my Woofy. Happy Barkday, Lady!

Never Never Land

On November 12th of last year I got a phone call with a nice lady on the other end of the line who had some REALLY GOOD NEWS to share with me. It was a great way to end a week that I had otherwise spent bracing myself for rejection and prepping to "take 2" the whole shebang. I was interrupted during my graphics class, in which I was slaving away on my advertising portfolio, to answer a phone call with the jury's verdict about what I would be up to for the next few years of my life. People, I was about to find out whether or not I had charmed the pants off of my interviewers enough to snag a real job. Like sit-in-traffic-for-an-hour-wear-clothes-that-make-me-look-constipated-and-frigid-and-collect-dust-while-my-eyes-glaze-over-in-front-of-my-PC-in-my-4x4-cubicle style job.

I DID!!!!!

I GOT A JOB!

I couldn't believe my earballs. Partly because it was my first interview, but mostly because I am still consider myself a ninth grader who's certainly not old enough to have a mom and dad kind of job let alone be in college. These nutcases hired me! BY GEORGE. November 12th was a happy day. And I spent the next few months contemplating another date: June 7th. My "start date". I thought that made me sound like a rocket ship that was scheduled for take off, and Lord knows I needed some clothes for that. So I made Banana Republic my new BFFL and wrote a bucket list for all the things I wanted to do before I was, more or less, locked in a dungeon from which I would be lucky to escape 43 years later and in considerable disrepair. I say this because all I've ever known about jobs my whole life is that you can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em... I'll reevaluate after a while and see if that's so. I'm still optimistic that I'll love my job. We shall see.

At any rate, having a job was a fun fact I could share with other job hunters and friends and family in November and December and January and February and even in March. Then it became April, and I realized that my fun fact had transformed into a time bomb that was going to explode in 2 MONTHS. 8 WEEKS. Like 60 DAYS. WAY. TOO. SOON. I suddenly gasped and thought BUT I'M TOO YOUNG! and freaked out a little and then thought back to the day I was hired and remembered a little something HR had mentioned in passing...: there was an alternative start date in August. August 2nd. Hmmmmm. Well, I figured, they've already hired me. It can't hurt to try. So I talked to my Ma and my Pa and my boyfriend and my roommates and a couple of other friends about it for the sake of second opinions... and then I called my job. Actually, I called the really nice HR lady. I woke up at like 8 in the morning, and as soon as my alarm went off I reached over for my phone and called. Still half asleep. I didn't want my request to sound rehearsed so I figured I'd do it with half my brain functioning and my eyes still shut. And I tried as best as my 15-year-old self in a 22-year-old's body could to sound professional, convincing, and charming all at once, and, in a nutshell, asked... Can I have my summer back?
The answer: YES!

Well hot-diggity-dog thanks a billion! I could have done a cartwheel over it. Except that I cannot do a cartwheel. But I digress.

All of this to say that today, June 7th, 2010, I am NOT at work. And am, in fact, sitting and blogging. Because I'm bored. And I'm hanging on to the last days of juventud. I've got less than 2 months before this rocket launches and I'm pretty sure there are no more alternative start dates :) I guess everyone's got to take a vacation from Never Never Land every once in a blue moon. I'll make plans to go back ASAP.

The Best

First blog post to a blog I do not intend to share with anyone I know. Actually it's the second because I deleted the first. I have to start by admitting that I'm not super eloquent and I'm not going to try to get all dictionary on anyone (myself) so I'm just going to blah blah blah and see what I write. Today, it's about music. I just snagged the new Rolling Stone issue dedicated to "The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time"...and I like. SO MANY of the songs are old.. like, mainly in the 60s... and I can happily admit that I know the majority of them because my mom and dad, who grew up in the 60s, raised me on all of this ridiculous music that's the kind of stuff that would have gotten you ridiculed in 6th grade. 12 year olds aren't supposed to like Bob Dylan. Or The Beach Boys. But, ya know, I did. Honestly, though, the 90s kid in me was REALLY pulling for the Backstreet Boys to have snuck "I Want It That Way" in there, but no can do apparently, because the closest thing to "recent" music was a little Rihanna, Beyonce, Jay-Z (Rolling Stone has a thing for him, because he had more than one song in there and wrote an article for the front of the issue)...Justin Timberlake managed to weasel "Cry Me a River" in the top 500... so that was that. I was pretty okay with all of the songs they had listed.. maybe like 20 I hadn't heard of, but I was a little suspicious that the #1 song was "Like a Rolling Stone" and the #2 song was by The Rolling Stones. Not subtle enough, Rolling Stone magazine. Basically any song with the words "Rolling Stone" in the title made the cut. And, while I'm sure it doesn't make much of a difference if you're ranked 294 or 316 I was a little offended that "Bittersweet Symphony" by The Verve was ranked 392. Come on. Definitely should be in the 200s.

Ok, enough of that. I will say though, that's its worth the $9.99 to buy it because they give a little 411 on all the songs chosen and this baby will sit by your toilet for years and you'll never get sick of reading it. Gotta make the best of the days of our lives spent on our porcelain thrones, yes?

Other words to the wise: Eat Lindt dark chocolate with "a touch of Sea Salt". Trust.