Date #2

Well, friends. I've got news. Date #2 happened. *big sigh*

It was a picturesque date. He invited me to his house to hang out and grill some food. Sounded lovely. It was a fantastic Iowa summer day where the trees stand still and the sky is the brightest blue you've ever seen. It was a perfect idea. There was only one problem: there was nothing for us to talk about. I'm not sure why, because I can talk. I don't even usually have to try to talk. It's something that comes naturally to me. I don't know what happened. For three hours yesterday I sat at his house...drinking...eating...listening to music. It was actually quite a nice setting--out on the porch, listening to some Death Cab on the iPod, having a couple of drinks--and truly the only thing missing was conversation.

How could we have been all talked out already? I mean, HONESTLY! WE HAD SPENT ONLY TWO HOURS TOGETHER LAST WEEK AND NOW WE GOT TOGETHER AND HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO SPEAK ABOUT?? HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?? Nothing. I mean, we got through it all--hobbies, hangouts, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, vacations, books, movies, music, food--everything. Done.

And, initially, when I went over there, the idea was that we would grill out and watch a movie or something (aka: make out *don't you judge me!*). Anyway, I'm in the middle of eating this fantastic kabob when out of his mouth comes the clincher of the afternoon:

boy: So, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?
me: *okay! looks like this one is going nowhere* "actually, big plans--going to see some friends and hang out--play some yard games, a typical Sunday evening." *thinking: "yeah, right--hello laundry and dishes....dear self, you're four cats, two frozen pizzas and a pack of menthol Virginia Slims away from living a life of solitude--please don't do yourself in."
boy:oh, cool.
me: Yeah, what about you? What are you going to do?
boy: oh, well, you know, my buddy called and he's having people over...blah blah...heard: I'm really not that into you, please drink your drink, eat your food and get the hell out of my house so I can hang out with my friends...

Lets just say that it was a very long few hours. In fact, it was one of the most uncomfortable dates I've ever been on. Typically, there's something to talk about, and usually after people have a drink or so, they start to losen up and can talk about virtually anything. Not so much, my friends. I was on a date with a mute.

And it's so confusing--because if that was the case, if he truly wasn't that into me, why follow up with a text talking about how much fun you had and wanting to hang out again sometime? I don't get it!!!!!!!!!!!! Have I told you how much I LOVE dating?

It's quite a shame, too, because he's flippin' cute.

Bug!

I'm spending the weekend with the little bug, and I don't think I've shown any of you pictures of her recently, so here she is...

How could anyone say no to a face like that?

Attitude with your lunch? Hanging in the dining room...
Chillin' in the car watching a movie and munching--seriously, it's a rough life...

And, finally, Emerson being all Hollywood...

We're swimming this afternoon, and as the old adage goes, when the cat's away the mice will play...so, I think while mom and dad are gone, I will probably get her all jacked up on Mountain Dew and popsicles, and feed her everything her mother would never allow! Hahahaha, best aunt ever!

Family Vacation Take Deux

*Some of the details of this story have been altered. Mom and Dad and Sisters, if you read this, I apologize and it was intended for entertainment purposes only. I swear.*

Our family vacation over the fourth of July is something I've been looking forward to since the first day the plans went into action. And by looking forward to, I mean I would rather be waterboarded. We are going to the lake of the Ozarks in MO. The whole family (mom, dad, big sis, little sis, BIL and baby) and some friends are coming. And you wonder why I might be a little anxious about this impending vacation? I mean, I should be used to it as we did the same thing last year...

One detail that is important to the story: mom and dad have been divorced since I was 8, and well, the truth of the matter is, they didn't much get along. It was in the years following their divorce that I learned of my mom's belief in voodoo and my dad's ability to shoot lazers out of his eyes while eating kittens...

Last summer they decided to get along, and the family vacation ensued with both of them. It was, as far as I remember, the first time they've spent more than a day together in the same house since they got divorced. For us girls, it amounted to--awkward!

BIL typically passes out at 4:30 in the afternoon, and when he's not passed out by the pool, he gets bored easily as he can't actually get into the pool since the medicine he is taking for his syphilis (or gonorrhea...I dunno) reacts strangely with the chlorine.

Big sis is usually drinking something with a pretty straw or a little umbrella with her gigantic sunglasses on, and laying out on a layer of aluminum foil with SPF 4 on working on becoming a bronze goddess.

Little sis is angstily texting someone. And hating the rest of us.

Baby is throwing a fit over something and when you try to get her in the pool she screams. Take her out, she screams. Feed her, she screams. Give her water, she screams. Change her diaper, she screams. She's usually screaming.

Dad is probably at the grill with his hand around a glass of scotch as mom is drinking red straight out of the bottle by the pool bar.

I am usually scrounging for prescription meds in everyone's luggage and seeing what kind of cocktails I can put together to get myself through the four days...Please, people, pack the good stuff!

So here's to the 4th with the family. It's always interesting...

Team Griffin

I've decided that it's time for my life to be headed in a different direction. I need a new goal--something to be working towards. As I was sitting and watching television the other night, I had an epiphany. I decided exactly where I need to go--where my life needs to be headed. I decided, after a lot of thinking, what I need to do.

I need to be Kathy Griffin's new assistant. I need to join Team Griffin. Seriously. Kathy needs another member of the team. And that person is me. It would be a win win for both of us. Kathy is hilarious. She makes me laugh. She says the off color things I wish I could say, but only think. She's sarcastic. She's raunchy. She's fantastic. And if I worked for her, I would get that interaction daily. I would also get to travel, and I'm sure I'd laugh a bit. She also gave her staff brand new blackberrys and I am sure I would get one of those. Plus I would get to move to California and hang out in her sweet house.

And, well, she needs me, too. I'm funny. I know how to work. I know how to travel. I'd make a good groupie. I'd laugh at her jokes and boost her ego on a daily basis. I would also tell her when her hair looks shitty which is something her current staff is lacking on. I would drink wine with her mom--even if Maggie wanted it out of a box, I would take that bullet.

So, I need a few ideas as to how to go about landing this job. I've decided I will blog about Kathy regularly, and possibly email her every day for a year (a la the Notebook) and hope she reads them. Maybe I'll even send her snail mail. Aside from that, I am out of ideas, but I suppose it's a start.

Happy Friday, from the newest soon to be member of Team Griffin.

Dating Rocks...not

Dating, in my opinion, is neither all that fun, or comfortable, or graceful. Typically, I am very open about telling people how much I hate it. I hate the first moment you meet a new person. Or the first moment on a first date. I hate the awkward silence, and the moments that sit between questions when you have both run out of the ones you had planned out in your head and you're scrambling for more! I hate craving familiarity--wishing he just knew what kind of beer I liked, or just knew that my feet get hot, or just knew that I like my milk nearly frozen, or just knew I don't really like cheese, or just knew that I like to sleep with the fan on...I wish he just knew.

However--I love the end of first dates. The time where you actually get into real conversation and have discovered some of your common interests and your similarities. When you can keep talking and talking and talking. I like that.

I've been on several first dates these past 6 or 7 months. Some of them continued into 2nd and 3rd and 7th dates--others went nowhere. But, at the end of it, after all of these first dates, one thing remains--me, alone. But I'm always hopeful...(shh--don't tell anyone).

Last night was another first date. I had time to grab a couple of drinks and some appetizers before I came over to my sister's with a really nice guy. I found him at one of my favorite places downtown, and he was SO NICE. Funny, sweet, very cute. We had a lot in common, and I left hoping...hoping I'd see him again; hoping this one would be different; just hoping...because as much as I claim to be anti-relationships, I think I'm more "anti-settling-for-the-one-I'm-not-absolutely-freakin-smitten-over." And I don't want to apologize--if I'm not feeling "it" it's likely not going to happen, and I'm not going to prolong it. That's what it is...I think. Maybe I don't know. There is, of course, also the possibility that I don't have a damn clue.

Anyway--here's to a second date--I'll keep you posted.

Wednesday Storytime!

I've decided to start a Wednesday feature--called Storytime! Yay!!! I know, you're all excited. Anyway, random stories, actually put into story time. They might be true, they might not. They might be remnants of my days scratched onto paper, they might not. They are what they are, and they're here for your literary enjoyment! Here's number 1!

*************

They’d been seeing each other for a month or two. Nothing serious, just casual. Hanging out, grilling out, making out. Nothing serious. Nothing serious at least twice a week.

They’d spoken on the phone only twice during this whole relationship. She loved it that way—she hates the phone. They usually made their dates via text—this is what the 21st century has done to dating. And I use the term “dating” casually. He took her out for dinner once, but usually they just drank wine and watched Family Guy at his place—occasionally he cooked. It was the perfect courting relationship, she thought.

She didn’t have time to do this whole six hours a day on the phone, hanging out nightly, in constant contact lovey-dovey shit. She just didn’t. She was 23 and had a “life,” and goals and dreams and all that other stuff—duh. This, in her mind, was again, perfect. He was cute, had a dry, sarcastic personality, drank red wine, was a good cook, had a job, a house, you know—important stuff.

And her best friend said he should feel the same. “You’re the least needy girl I know—you hang out when you feel like it, but you’re not begging for it. You’re funny, you drink, you’re easy,” *conversation interrupted by a punch in the gut* “I’m totally joking about that one! But seriously, you’re like the girl every guy *thinks* they want.”

So, after three weeks of no contact, she started to wonder what was going on? Six beers into an evening, she did exactly what she wasn’t supposed to do—she texted. The skies became cloudy, and the heavens wept as lightning crashed into the ground and the whole town started on fire—she knew she shouldn’t have done that.

June 2, 2008:
MSG1: Hey—what’s up? Where you been?
Reply: Oh, just got home from a badminton tournament.
MSG2: We should hang out sometime—just an idea.
Reply: Yeah, totally, we should—but I’m kindof in overtime right now and things at work are busy and I don’t get home til like 7 at night and you live like 20 minutes away and it’s just like, so far, and it’s busy…
MSG3: Okay! That’s cool… (a lady never begs)
Reply: I mean, I’m not like trying to tell you anything—like it's not that I don’t want to hang out anymore, I’m just really busy.
MSG4: Sure, no biggie. I mean, I can drive at night thanks to that lovely invention called headlights, but it’s cool…when do you think you’ll be free/unbusy/not playing badminton?
Reply: Yeah, I mean, I don’t really know—probably in the middle of July?

*She tightly held on to hope* and soon enough, her guardian angel swept down and kicked the shit out of her while screaming—He’s just NOT that into you—for heavens sake, even I read the book! Get a CLUE!

I'm a BLOGGER!

My best friend and I were g-chatting the other day as we sometimes do to keep in touch. For those of you who don’t know—g-chat is instant messaging through Gmail. So, we’re chatting about blogging. She’s telling me she just can’t get into it (she’s been trying for a while)—you don’t have to, I respond. She says she can’t get into this journaling, soul searching, growth thing. I understand why she thinks that because I think that’s what a lot of people do when they blog…I sometimes do, but mostly I don’t. I do it to have an open forum—to write my stories and to keep my friends updated about what’s going on in my life. Sure, there’s some thoughtful stuff, some pathetic pity-party stuff, but mostly I try to write funny, snarky, upbeat stuff.

Plus, I love the community of friends that my little bubble in the blogosphere has created! I know that GB may not make it by every day, but she back-reads as many as she missed and comments on them all! E will either affirm my choices or give me a virtual slap across the face to get me back on track and Kellan always leaves a comment that makes me smile. Sara Jane typically feels my pain as far as life as a single 20-something goes, and my new reader Mary encourages my desire to have a little fun! Jamie and I share a name, but have a ton more in common. And these are just the people that comment regularly! I look forward to staying in contact with these people, and I’ve never met a single one of them, and they’re all scattered across the United States. It’s fun to find people and get a glimpse into their lives. To form friendships over shared stories just as if you were gossiping with your girls—this is that, too…only in a completely different form!

I also love to keep my friends in the loop—to tell our stories and make them laugh over how I might have altered the details or added a dramatic flair here or there—or even tell the honest truth about a story that was funny enough at the time that it doesn’t need any edits! I love when Beth reads and leaves a smart ass comment for me and I always love to read my Autumn’s rebuttals to the latest tale I’ve told about her. On the few occasions when Sara comments, they’re typically funny! Kara rarely comments, but she reads every day--and when I need the support of a good friend, or relationship advice, she's usually my first call. Lauren just went back through and read the entire thing since she last read and commented on every one—that’s awesome to me! I love me some comments! I’d totally be a comment whore if that was possible—is it?

I blog because I love to write. I blog because it’s my little outlet—my corner of the universe. Somedays I consider it an art—a crafting of words that I want to get better and better at. I blog because I love it! Why do YOU blog? And if you don't blog--what makes you read?

Vacation! (sortof)

I don’t know if I have told you all yet, but I love summer. Seriously. It’s great. I love opening the windows and letting the air filter through the house drenching everything in the fresh air! I love sitting outside and reading a book, or lying by the pool dozing in and out. I love hanging out on the deck or sitting in a porch swing and eating loads and loads of ice cream. I love drinking margaritas, long walks on the beach, men that are tall dark and handsome—oh shit, this is starting to sound like a personal ad—where was I?

Oh, right, what I love about summer--well that nearly sums it up, so I suppose I should follow with what I DON'T love about summer: WORK. Especially when your older sister and BIL have slack jobs where they simply don't work during the summer. And, since they have to pay for day care anyway they take baby half time at which point they can go out and drink their lunches--which is typically their favorite time to call me during the day. Simply to tell me that the place that they're at has that Summer Shandy we like right on tap--it's amazing, she says. Usually, this really gets me down and makes me want to stab my eyeballs out with my ballpoint pen, stick dull paperclips into my veins, jam my head repeatedly between desk drawers, quit my job and get my education certificate and teach history to children--which actually is pretty much my worst nightmare realize but at least I would have free summers to drink my lunches--this is how bad it gets!

This week, though, it's a different story. I have some time off and I'm taking it. I'm vacationing to the sister's house! BIL could about kill himself thinking about having me around for four days, but I am mighty excited. I can live their summer life for a while and see what it's like to have absolutley no responsibilities for three months of the year (I can hear her now--child, dogs, grad classes, blah blah)! Wahooo!

So, that's that, dear blogging friends. During my late week posts I will likely be pool side sipping on something frosty! Summertime and the living actually might be easy for a few days! :)

This one's for my girls...

I have good friends. And I want to talk about them.

This will likely take a little slice off of the normal path of cynical banter, but deal with it for a post, will ya…

They’re awesome. And it doesn’t matter what they’re doing—whether they’re cringing at the word ‘moist,’ being extremely patient and accepting of my musical tastes, cooking me dinner, feeding me chocolate, unpacking life’s ridiculous nuances with me, laughing at commercials until we cry, dreaming of what’s going to come next, listening patiently as I express my impatience, getting hyper and laughing like idiots, crying over deaths, crying over bad days, laughing from exhaustion, getting ice cream, drinking beer, scoping out boys, whining about boys, crying about boys, setting me up with boys, encouraging my sabbatical from boys, etc…it doesn’t matter—they’re awesome, through and through.

And it’s interesting to me to think about which stars aligned to lead me to these people and what steps we went through to become friends. What if I’d chosen a different college? What if I’d chosen a different job? What if my older sis’s and my teenage angst and annoyance with each other had lasted forever, instead of us becoming such great friends? What if I lost touch with my besties who’ve packed up and moved away? What would my life be like, and who would I be? What would be different about me?

I just feel really grateful to have such a great network of people that I KNOW, without a doubt, I can call when I am pissed at my life and need a little encouragement and help. I dunno—I think there’s something to be said about a close group of girls. If guys knew the inner workings, you can bet your arse, they’d be hella jealous.

And I’m not excluding my blog friends, either—because you guys are wicked cool, too. And I know I can always count on specific people to leave comments to get me back on track. I refer to you people on a daily basis as my “blog friends.” Those who don’t blog, well, they just don’t get it! J

So, I was thinking today about how sometimes, I might take these people for granted. That’s why I wanted to dedicate a little post here to my friends, my girls, my confidants—you guys rock my face off, and I love you all!

I couldn't find a picture on my work comp of me and my sister--so here she is with Emerson!

Take me out to the ballgame!

My sister and her husband are teachers. This means they don't work during the summer. This means her favorite thing to do in the morning is call the office and say, "hey, what are you doing, oh, working? That's too bad." Sometimes, it makes me want to beat her senseless. She tans during the summer. She goes swimming, hangs out with her family, shops, does whatever she wants. And she still gets paid. I resent her for this. It's starting to piss me off. (And she won't be reading this, either, as her server has been flooded and she has no internet! Ha! I can bash her all I want) And yes, I do have to work. I work and work and work and make less than she does and she gets three months off. I'm bitter. I said it. However, we (my fellow office drones and I) still have a little bit of summer fun.


Tonight, the work friends are all getting together and going to the ballgame! Now, some of the people at the office are big fans of the Iowa Cubs. I'm just a fan of drinking beer outside when the weather is nice. I think I might have to relapse off the sabbattical to share a drink with my friends. In fact, I know this will happen. Don't worry friends--I have a new mantra--moderation, moderation, moderation! So, in case you were worried, I won't be dancing on top of the dugouts begging for free hotdogs. Phew.



And, if you live in a cave with no cable or internet and haven't heard, our state is basically under water. The ball field is feet away from being flooded, but the game is still on! Yay! Our pregame spot, however, did not get so lucky.








The place, Buzzard Billy's, has an outdoor patio--one of the best in DM, and the actual establishment is below street level. Well, the flood filled the place, and now, what used to be a kick-ass place where you could eat alligator is now a swimming hole. Check out the photos.
Rest in peace, dear Buzzard Billy's, home of crappy beer night,...rest in peace.


Anyway, a little crink in the plans is not even close to as bad as life could have been or has been for a lot of the actual victims of these floods. If my blog wasn't titled as it is, I wouldn't be complaining about this at all--but that wouldn't do the page much justice, would it? In the grand scheme of things, my friends and I are extremely lucky, and no, I won't forget that.


Happy Tuesday!

"I do in high definition"

My mom bought a new tv. She didn't really need it, but when I got here on Friday night, they were hauling in a 47" flat screen hi-def television. I figured it was just your basic case of retail therapy--you know, the kind where you feel bad about something like moving from a lovely quaint little house to a small condo with virtually no storage and you need to spend loads of money to help you feel better? Yes, I thought this was one of those.

Anyway, BIL Clint goes straight to work mounting that heavy b on the wall. He is leveling and looking for studs. Acting like he knows what he is doing. He finally figures it out, we lift the tv onto the wall and secure it into place.

Since the tv has been hooked up he has become obsessed with shit tv. He's been watching Fast and the Furious Tokyo Drift, the PGA, and NBA games--things, mind you, are totally out of his typical television preferences. Whatever I say, I'm heading to the pool--watch on.

So now, as my sister and I are getting engrossed into an episode of Ice Road Truckers on the History channel, Clint decides he must catch up on the NBA game. Clint, you must realize, honestly has no interest in basketball. We're talking zero. Never before in my life has he wanted to watch basketball.

My sister calls him out on it. "You don't care about the NBA and since when do you give two shits about Tiger Woods? You don't care about this!"

To which he responds: "I do in high definition."

Men. Seriously.

Anywhere.

It's my typical weekend with the family. The first tears have just been shed. Now I am getting a guilt trip, along with my sis. We are bad people, apparently. Now, I am finding angry videos on youtube and listening to them hoping they'll work as therapy.

Sometimes I want to jump through the computer screen and swim through youtube. I could be wherever I wanted to be. I could be in this Jack's Mannequin video, I could be hanging out with Chelsea Lately, I could be tripping out with Regina Spektor or Amy Winehouse. I could be anywhere.

Instead, I am here.

They do it differently out in the country...

Last Saturday was a good day. It's a story I need to tell! Most of the day was spent outside in the yard--pulling weeds and planting flowers. I then read a half a book on the deck and caught some rays--too many rays. Anyway, after that, my friend/roommate called to see what I wanted to do that night--she was out at her bf's...in the country. We shortly decided that I would head up there for the night and hang out with them.

So, I quick showered, felt the pain of too many hours in the sun, and got cute-ified. After a short drive and a few minutes of gravel-traveling later, I was there...out in the country.

Friend met me at the convenience store in her bf's big farm truck. We got beer. We got back to the farm and decided it was time to drink it. We made our way outside when the sun finally started shining and proceeded to do beer bongs on the patio. Okay, just kidding...but seriously. Anyway, a few beers and a few hours later people dispersed for dinner. At this time, Big Ed showed up.

Big Ed is friend's bf's whiskey drinking neighbor. He rolled up in his gator, and offered us a ride. Heck yes. We'll go for a ride. Pack a cooler, and grab a blanket--we were off for a ride in the country. Friend and I sat in the bed of the gator while bf and Big Ed sat up front. We traveled down the gravel roads and through the farmland and petted the cows. It was delightful.

Later, everyone came back, and somehow ended up together in the grass. We laid on the grassy knoll and watched the night sky get darker and darker. Eventually, we kissed the deer head in the living room goodnight and strolled up to bed. I made my way to the guest room and slept off the evening's fun.

The thing is, in the country, there is so much open space. It smells good. There are wild animals around and vast expanses of nothing. Lots of bugs. Lots of dust. Lots and lots of peaceful quiet. The neighbors can't hear when the party gets too loud, and if you want to throw beer cans in the yard, more power to you. We drove the 4-wheeler 65 down a gravel road with three people on it. Probably not the safest idea, but it felt good to have the wind blowing through my hair. It wasn't your typical Saturday night, but it was awesome.

So, I want to tell the roommate's bf thanks for a lovely Saturday out in the country. And, truthfully, I left out some of the details. If I told you the whole truth, you would know that consequently, this escapade ended up being the catalyst to the b-squared sabbatical. That, my dear friends, is another story for another time. For now, I will just relish in the sweet country smell reminiscent in these memories...

Sidenote: if friend's bf ever sends me some pictures of said night, I will be sure to add them to the blog!

B-Squared Sabbatical

Okay folks. It’s official. I am having a major lifestyle renovation. This means I will be knocking two things out of my life that I enjoy the most: boys and booze.

I’m serious. It’s time for a lifestyle change. No more galavanting around at all hours of the night only to wake up and feel like hell. No more waiting for a boy to (not) call on the day of my minor leg operation. I’m done with it. And I don’t know how long this “B-squared Sabbatical” (that’s what I’ve termed it—witty, right!?) will last, but I have to give it a go. I mean, I do like water, and I am sure my system could use a little more of it—maybe my life will turn around once I feel hydrated.

I am going to focus on better things--like riding my bike (if I can get it off the ceiling of the garage), and yoga; I might get back into running and bust out the iPod holder that you can actually run with. Maybe I will learn how to knit, or play the piano. Just maybe...

I know my big sister will be disappointed. We booze when we get together and there is any sort of a family function happening. It’s how we cope. And we have a good time of it. I’m sorry, sister. But you know this will be better in the long run.

I know my brother-in-law will be disappointed as he has been begging me to find a friend for him and keep him around for more than one family function. I’ve broken his heart a thousand times, and I do need to apologize for it. Sorry Clinto. Maybe someday. Just not in the near future. And no, I do not want to date your dad, but thanks for the offer.

And to my dear friends, amazing coworkers, and anyone else I frequent the local pub with--I am sorry. I can have fun and stay sober, you know. So don't count me out completely. I'm fun. Diet Coke is fun. And I'm a funny kid. I'll make your drunk arses laugh even without booze on my breath.

I'm not sure many have much faith in my ability to pull this off. My friend told me I needed to draw up a contract to keep myself honest. I'll let her do the writing--but I will sign it. See, I might have cried wolf once and went on a four day dating sabbatical, so they have reason to be weary. But now, now I'm serious.

So, that’s that, friends. I’m figuring my shit out. I’ll let you know how this goes.

Here I am, Here I am!

Sorry for the delay in my posts. But, dear friends, so much has happened since I wrote last!

We are moved and we are settled into our adorable little yellow cottage inspired duplex. It's fantastic. We have laundry machines, and storage in the basement (YES!). We can open all the windows all over the house and let the warm spring breeze filter through. It actually feels and smells and looks like a house. We are, for the most part, unpacked, and realized that we have enough dishes and silverware to feed a small army--if any of you ever want to come over for dinner, feel free. Just beware, we think our oven is toxic as the enamel has been all but eaten away, so we certainly can't vouch for the safety of the food, but my roommate is a pretty darn good cook. We still need to paint the walls and weed the landscaping, but otherwise, it's getting pretty cozy.

We had a glorious little get together with some friends and some boys the other night. Margaritas were drunk, and the new digs were broken in. Catchphrase is always a fail-safe at a gathering, and watching B trying to imitate a praying mantis will pretty much change your life.

I also got 17 stitches put into my leg. I had to have a large mole removed as cancer prevention and so they hacked it out, put in two layers of stitches and sent me on my merry, numb little way. It's getting quite sore, but looks to be healing quite nicely.

Additionally, we have been living in tornado-ville this past week or so. Everything is flooded and seeing red covering our county is nothing but ordinary at this point. Last night, I fell asleep on the couch and was woken by roommate and could immediately hear the tornado sirens going off. I grabbed a blanket and we headed down to the bachelorette pad where we watched the news and realized that our cable actually still includes like 70 channels rather than just the 12 we are receiving upstairs. I'll have to fix that this afternoon--blessing in disguise, I suppose?

Anyway, the point is, I'm back. I know you've missed me.