Friday, August 30, 2013

Chipmunks vs. The Bergs

Remember that one time when I found a chipmunk essentially shrink wrapped in our basement? Alive, mind you? Yeah, well, that seemed way cooler than what's happening today at our place.

As I got ready for work this morning in our quiet and peaceful home, I began hearing scratching. From inside said quiet home. With both Piggy and I standing in the same room and Tim already at the office, that left only one other option as to where the scratching could be coming from. Critters.

Knowing that we have a new hole in the base of our front door frame, I took my robe clad self to peek at where I thought some critters might be coming inside (the walls, not the actual inner-house itself). Sure enough, there lay about five large acorn tops in a pile. Oh geez, guys, so sorry that the whole nut could not fit through your new condo door! Thanks for discarding your nut casings next to the front door, you little striped mongrels.

As I'm growing increasingly more irritated whilst counting acorn tops at 7:45am, something catches my eye on our living room couch. Don't panic, it wasn't another shrink wrapped chippie! There, on our suede sofa lay little clumps and streaks of mud. Are you joking??? These fools have somehow gotten into the ever loving house and are chilling on my couch while I'm sleeping???? Someone is going to die. I love animals, but I despise them when they're on my couch with muddy little feet and topless acorns.

Folks, I don't even know where to start with this mess. What comes first? The blocking of the hole or the trapping of the munks? If we block the hole and they're inside the walls, will they find another hole and escape or will families of not so innocent munks starve to death in our walls??? The horror of it all.

I wish we could all just sit down and have a little heart to heart. "Look guys, I'll stay out of your woods and away from your nuts, and you keep your distance from my walls and keep your feet off of my couch. No one has to die here. Really. Deal?"

And before I close and attempt to catch some munks, my real question is where are they after they chilled on my couch? Are they stinkin loose in my house right now?? If I come home to mud on my pillow today, it's going to be World War Chippies!!! Believe it.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

The Long and Shorter of It

Shorts make me sad this summer.

1) They make me sad because my legs are so pale that I've tucked my shorts away for next year when I pray to the Lord above that I have tanner skin that won't scare small children when the sun reflects off of my opalescent legs with blinding force.

2) They make me terribly sad because they seem to be disappearing at a rapid rate. Seriously, where have all the shorts gone?! I see them walking around the grocery store, in retail stores, on the college campus where I work, etc...but they appear to vanishing before my very eyes. Why have all the shorts become the size of exaggerated undies? Why are 12 year old girl's little, innocent cheeks hanging onto the fabric for dear life? Where are the parents in all of this?

I know I'm not a parent to an actual human, aka just a puppy mom for the time being, but I can't imagine ever being okay with my young, teenage daughter walking around in "booty shorts". Doesn't it hurt their heart to see their daughters pretty much on display for the world to see? Why is this okay? And designers, would it hurt to add a little more fabric to the trends this summer? "Cool" is apparently what you tell us is cool, so please be kind and dole out a little extra fabric and respect for those who trust your fashion sense.

Today as I drove home for lunch, I had the untimely opportunity to ride behind a teenage girl on her bicycle in the tiniest shorts I've ever seen. My bloomers from my cheerleading days had more coverage honestly. As she pedaled in front of me, I could tell that she was uncomfortable and I shared in her un-comfortableness. Part of me was thankful that I was the one behind her and not a man who'd have no business seeing a "child" like that, but at the same time, even I felt like I was seeing more of her than I should be. Who wins in that situation? Certainly not me, and hopefully not her.

I know we all have the right to wear what we want, where we want and how we want, but I just pray that there are parents out there that say "No way. Not today and not any day until your 18 and can decide what to show off to the world." Undies are not shorts and shorts are not undies and somewhere along the way, I think we've all gotten a little confused. The last time I checked, denim panties sounded like a good idea to no one. Ever.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

It's Hot, Cue the Pandemonium

It's hot, folks. Like almost triple digits, but not quite. For me, after over a decade in the south, it feels like the beginning of summer. To everyone else here, it apparently feels like reason to panic. Schools are closing early, y'all. What?!

On one hand, I can see their logic as many of our schools do not have AC. No one wants little ones falling out due to the heat. I DO get that much. And I DO worry about the elderly in our region without AC. Sadly, I'm guessing this heat wave will claim the life of someone who is not fortunate to escape the heat and that breaks my heart. That side, I do understand.

What I don't fully understand is how it can appear as hot as people are making it to be here? I've lived through HOT. This isn't even close to the heat that I'm used to in the summer and early fall in Charleston. There wasn't an ounce of humidity that I felt today(seriously, it's amazing to have a great hair day when it's almost 100 degrees! Can I get an amen?!).  Nothing took my breath away, as in almost sucked the life right out of me, as I unlocked my car after it sat in the sun. In the south, you cannot even get in your car for about 2-4 minutes after you leave the office for fear that you may suffocate or stroke out from the swelter. The daggom car upholstery can give you 3rd degree burns if you're not careful. I've driven home from the office in SC while sitting on file folders to protect my legs when I had nothing else with me. Sweaty file folders that I then had to physically peel off of the back of my thighs when arriving to my destination. Now THAT, is hot. And nasty.

I mean, do I want to go for a jog in this weather, not so much. Let's be honest though, I never want to go for a jog. Can I fully function in this weather, absolutely. Am I going to stroke out before the sun goes down, highly unlikely, unless I go for said jog.

To Charleston and its years of brutal heat and borderline torturous summers, thank you. You've made me stronger. You taught me to hydrate even when I wasn't thirsty to avoid more IV's in the CofC infirmary. You taught me to hold my breath as I leaned in to turn my car on after a day at the office. You've shown me what true humidity feels like and you gave me the awful hair days to prove what you were capable of. And lastly, you've taught me that without access to a beach with triple digit temps, people panic. Here, where people panic, we just chalked it up to a great beach day and an excuse to be knee deep in the water somewhere. Thank you for the previous torture life lessons in the sun, my old friend.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Friday High Fives

TGIF, Y'all!!  As we head into a gorgeous weekend, I'm passing out the following high fives:
  • Sushi double date nights that involve a friend chicken roll with cilantro.
  • Not sitting behind my office desk for 48 hours. Booyah.
  • Date night with the Hubs on Saturday night for a little dinner and movie action.
    • Apparently I'm the only person in America who is pumped to watch Ashton Kutcher as Steve Jobs. Oh well, I stand behind my fan-hood of Ashton and refuse to jump on the whole "I just don't get it" casting moan-fest.
  • A fun, vintage photo shoot in my backyard tomorrow. Stay tuned for pics.
  • Resting up a bit this weekend after not sleeping much last weekend.
  • Another friend visiting from Charlotte tonight.
  • Working on my dad's 60th "retro" Birthday bash. I love me a birthday, and at 60, you deserve a dance party. And that is just what he'll have.
  • My new addiction to red nail polish.
  • Cheesy shirts that make me laugh. Every thug rocks Cynthia Rowley pj pants, duh

  • Celebrating our sweet boy, Wrigley! I was excited to tell him that everyone sent him some FB love for his big day. I'm pretty sure he was equally excited and overcome with appreciation.
  • Discovering Stella Rosa Semi-Sweet Red wine, it's perfect for summer evenings. You must try it, friends!
  • Fresh, cherry tomatoes straight out of our garden.
  • Lionel Richie station on Pandora. All day, every day. Hello? YES, it is me you're looking for, Lionel. I just know it.
Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Email Soap Box

I needed to step away from my inbox for about 5 minutes before I slapped someone through my computer screen. I'm not a violent person at all, I swear, but man do I get irritated when people do not read emails in their entirety. So consider yourselves warned, my sweet friends. If I send you an email, please for the love of all things holy, read it before responding with questions. Please.

Lately I've had to communicate with a few people that either cannot read or are just too lazy and max out at 50 words when it comes to comprehension. Nothing chaps my buns quite like someone who asks you questions that you literally just answered. In detail.

I don't know if we're a product of a texting and twitter environment where we max out at 140 characters, but it just isn't right, y'all. I kid you not, I have been "chatting" with someone for the last 48 hours and I swear to you, every single thing she has asked in the last 42 of those 48 hours has already been stated for her in detail. About 10 times. In various ways as to try and eliminate her confusion. It's painful and I am done. Done. The final straw was when I sent along actual photos of what I'm trying to explain to her and she completely changes the course and ignores what we've been beating into the ground like a dead horse with a totally unrelated question of "where are you located?" Um, no ma'am.

I'm telling you all this today because I just can't face anymore people who are email illiterate. It's just not okay and it's unprofessional. I know we can all be long winded, take this blog for example, BUT if someone sends you an email that you plan to reply to, please just read the dang thing. Your answers may very well be in the email. Crazy, I know. And whoever came up with the whole "there are no dumb questions" clearly invented that statement before the Internet and email graced our lives.

In closing, I refuse to respond to this woman. 1) I don't want to waste anymore of my time on her when she already has everything she needs from me at her fingertips. And 2) I refuse to give her my "location" for both of our sanity's sake and both of our safety. I do not want to see this person in person, especially until I calm down. AND, I know if I give her my location, she's going to ask me five ways to Sunday how she should get to said location. Not going to happen. If she responds again, I'll simply shoot back my response that politely states "just forget it, man."

And if you've made it this far and are still reading this, thank you for restoring my faith in humanity! It would appear we can consume more than 140 characters at a time after all.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

You Know You're Older at a Bachelorette Party When...

I found myself giggling a few times this past weekend and thinking "wow, bachelorette weekends are way different in your 30's versus your 20's". Not different in a bad way or a "whoa we're so old and lame" way. Just different. The girlie chatter was different. The food was a bit different and more substantial, and the amount it took a few people to bounce back from the previous night's festivities was a bit different and delayed, if you will.

Here are a just a few reminders on how a 30 something beach weekend may vary slightly from one in your roaring 20's:
  • It's totally acceptable to bring your sweet baby to the gathering. Well, at least it's appropriate during the day time hours next to the pool. No one walked in and thought "hmmm, you have a a bachelorette party???"
  • Advil was a must in the "weekend survival kit". Next time I know Alka-Seltzer is also a must, even more so than the Advil. And tweezers, apparently.
  • One can somehow pinch a nerve in their back while stirring chocolate on the stove for chocolate dipped strawberries. This one still blows my bind. And my throbbing back.
  • Coffee can seem more important than adult beverages at times.
  • You find yourself discussing which books everyone is reading over which raging parties everyone's gone to this summer.
  • "So what anti-aging, skin care regime is everyone using?" suddenly takes the place of who's dating who, who's texting/talking to who, etc...  #wrinklessuck
  • The Nursing versus bottle feeding stance can come up at least 2-3 different times over the course of a weekend.
  • When someone says "hey y'all, I accidentally packed up someone else's shorts and tank top, who's missing them?" they should first read the clothing label to see if it says "A Pea In the Pod";) That's typically a dead giveaway when there's one 8 month pregnant woman in the mix!
  • Some beach go'ers who chip in good money to stay at the beach house actually choose to drive the 30 minutes home to sleep in their own bed. Long gone are the days of "crashing" anywhere you land.
  • You actually think ahead to still bring the bride's flip flops when she insists on wearing her heels to the 80's concert. And then force her to sit down and let you physically change her shoes for her so she doesn't break an ankle. Lastly, you actually spot her discarded heels chilling on the stage and hook them to your purse so you don't lose them. #truefriendspackflops
  • Staying in versus hitting up the clubs is a really good idea. You can actually hear each other when conversing. Imagine the concept! #chinesefoodrocks  #200dollarsworthofchinesefood
  • When you first arrive, everyone is on high alert to spot who might be drinking or who is sitting it out on the wine to scope out those in the group who might be pregnant. #sneaky #highalert
  • And last but certainly not least, breast pumps are way more common at the party than shot glasses or any form of beer funnel.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Bachelorette Beach Weekend- Part I

Well, I'm happy to say that we survived the bachelorette beach weekend. There were zero causalities, although it may have been questionable for a few hours. Successful, but questionable. There was fun to be had by everyone. And in the end, the bride felt loved on and celebrated to the nth degree, and that's exactly what we had hoped for all weekend!

I was lucky enough to arrive the night before the mayhem began. The bride and I enjoyed one of my favorite Charleston delicacies, White Thai from Westbrook Brewery (thanks again, T!), and we got to catch up for a few hours in a quiet and quaint beach house. The next morning started off right with a quick run to Chick-Fil-A for our morning fuel, and then we were off to wherever the day would take us.

There's just something so fun about already being somewhere and awaiting the arrival of new, fun faces. It sort of felt like the Real World when the first two cast mates arrive and then get to anxiously wait for everyone to walk through the door for intros, hugs, cheers, "which room should I sleep in?", etc... And for the bride, the arrival of a sparkly (literally flashing lights and all) "Bride to Be" mug, mixed with her favorite adult beverage, was all it took to get her party started right and quickly.

There are a million little details that I could share with you, and I wish you'd care enough to read all of them so I could relive a bit of the festivities selfishly, but I wouldn't dare do that to y'all. You're welcome.

So, as you're probably painfully aware by now, I love me some lists and a list you shall get instead.

Without further ado, I bring you "Life Lessons from a Bachelorette Party":
  • Weddings are really one of the rare moments in your life when all of the people you love most gather from near and far to celebrate with you. When else do you get to have so many different friend groups crash together quite like you do when you're getting married?  It's such a cool and rare experience. Soak it up!
  • Meeting some of your friend's friends can be a cool experience. I mean, if the bride is already friends with you then she must have exceptional taste in humans, right? What I learned is this...ask to meet your friend's sooner rather than later. Chances are you may just end up loving them too and end up thinking "oh man, I can't believe I missed out on knowing you for the last ___ years!"
  • When sending someone out to purchase coffee supplies for a house full of women, maybe send someone who actually drinks coffee. Sending a non-coffee drinker to the store is just setting that poor girl up to fail. On our two attempts, the first person came home with a tiny, instant coffee container, while the second showed up with whole beans. We tried to use the blender to grind the beans and I'm sure you can guess how that turned out. #epiccoffeefail #heywetried
  • Cannon balls into a pool with your clothes on are still fun at any age.
  • When the weather man says there's a 80% chance of rain all day he's a liar. Period. You can't keep the sun down when there's a pool party to be had!
  • Sitting in a tiny living room with 8 girls still in their PJs can be some of the best entertainment for hours.
  • Walking home from a concert in the rain and dark is a lot father than you think it's going to be. Be prepared with flip flops and your iPhone's GPS even if it is only a few blocks away.
  • Pizza at 1am is always a fantastic idea.
  • Watch out for slippery pot holes in gas station parking lots.
  • Having a nurse amongst the group is always a bonus for splinter removal and random "does this look like I fell last night or is it a rash?" kind of scenarios. Hypothetically speaking, of course.
  • Making sure the bride has the time of her life, but also lives to tell the tale can be a juggling act. When tempted to buy a bachelorette/bachelor party a round of shots, just say no. Just high five them or something, unless you want to be the one on damage control duty later. K, thanks.
  • When asked by the band "when is a good time to give the bride a shout out and song dedication before she pukes?" a solid answer is "Um, yesterday".
And to keep this party going for one more day, tomorrow I'll share part II on how drastically bachelorette weekends vary between your 20's and 30's. I shall entitle it "You know you're old when..."


Wednesday, August 14, 2013

She's Gettin' Hitched

This weekend is dedicated to one of my utmost favorite people on the planet. My sister from another mister is getting hitched this fall and tomorrow I'll embark on a girl's weekend to celebrate her and officially kick off their wedding season! To say I'm excited would be a huge understatement. I'm so ready. There is major clock watching taking place today. Major.

What I love so much about this season in her life is everything that led up to this point. We've been through college as frienemies, break ups and broken hearts, losing loved ones, about 11 birthdays where I forced sweet talked her into having a birthday party to celebrate her when she swore no one would come (they always came), drive-bys of ex-boyfriends' homes (some may or may not have involved hummus), living together, living as neighbors, and living 1,000 miles apart. She's been my go to person for over a decade. She's the one that I forced, yet again, sweet talked into doing armpit checks when I thought my deodorant had thrown in the towel (just being honest, people), and now when I have similar issues that I need questionable back-up on and I ask the Hubs to assist, he responds with "can't you call Tracy about this?"

This girl put up with my annoying football questions for years while coaching together. She jumped in the car one night when I called at midnight after being blindsided by a break up and although she was out having fun downtown with friends, before I could even finish my opening statement of "______ just broke up with me", she responded with "I'll be home in 15 minutes. Hang on, I'm coming."

I say all of this to give you context of her and our relationship, but honestly, what I love the MOST about this weekend is that it makes every time we all confidently told her "you WILL find him. He's out there. I promise" 100% truth. I wish I had saved some of our email chains from the last 6+ years. She'd question her dating journey often, as I think we all do. I'd watch her doubt herself through her words and I hated it because I KNEW in my gut that someone was out there, waiting for their paths to cross. She was far too cool and far too into football to not meet some dude who would think she hung the moon. I'd tell her hang in there, don't stress, he's out there, you're going to make some guy really happy when he sees how much you love the Gamecocks...

And guess what? He was. He is (aside from the Gamecocks;). And they found each other when the time was right. Some things just had to be ironed out before they could meet, but he found her. I've never seen her more happy, and more comfortably confident in their relationship and who she is to him. There's no doubt he's the real deal. AND, she loves his adorable child as if he were her own. And something like that doesn't come easily to everyone and it's not something you can force. It's real and I'm so happy, excited, and thankful that they found each other when they did. It was just meant to be.

In the words of my favorite Bridesmaid, Kristin Wiig "I'm ready to par-tay!" There's nothing like a great love story to jump start a party!

Cheers to our girl! We can't wait to celebrate you all weekend!

Our girl- T-Money, Sweet T, Thrilla, Schmoops, T-Payne

Mr. Right and Future Mrs. T- Payne.

Keep in mind these animals are about 7 feet off of the ground. Hence the slight fear in our eyes.

The Amazing Flying, Tracy.
You know you're with a best friend when activities like this seem like a blast on a Friday night.

Pretty even in bad wigs.

Ever want to hear a funny story? Ask us about this photo. Hmmm, maybe a future blog post perhaps?

Just singing a little Bon Jovi at her going away party. So glad DC only got her for a year!

Such a fun night celebrating another BFF wedding.

Kisses for Schmoops while vacationing to see a little NKOTB.

In about 94+ days, you'll be wearing another garter:)

Monday, August 12, 2013

Flower Power

Ah, the power of the flower. It's funny how something so natural can carry so much power. I've always been one of those girls that loved receiving flowers. Ever since I was little I've loved them. I've also known girls that thought they were a waste of money. "Flowers eventually die" they'd say. My rebuttal..."who cares, they're so pretty?!" I've always silently questioned their rationale. Do they really believe that or do they say it so when they don't get them on special occasions, no harm no foul, because "they really don't care for them anyway".

Whether they were a special treat after an ice show or skating competition, from a boyfriend, or even a secret admirer, they've made my day over the years. I was lucky enough, and slightly creeped out at the same time, to have received flowers from 2 different secret admirers. In college, they actual sent a dozen roses 3 days in a row with clues attached. It was glorious and alarming, but mostly glorious. "Sends flowers just because" was even on a list I created about 7 years ago when I sat pondering all the qualities I'd love to find in a husband someday. Maybe I should've been a florist and missed the mark?

On Valentine's Day for the last 10 years of my life, I've worked in an office made up predominantly of women. On that special day, our main entrance was literally a parade of florists. Each time a new one would arrive, we'd all gather to ooohh and aaahhh over the newest delivery. And each time I'd hold my breath and hope it was for me. Sometimes they were and sometimes they weren't, but man they brought some adrenaline to my day like no cup of coffee could do.

Today a florist pulled up, for no apparent reason, and as I watched the man grab the sweetest flowers out of his van, my heart sped up. It wasn't my birthday or Valentine's Day, but yet again, even the thought of a special, surprise delivery made my heart race a bit. Silly little flowers, seriously, how do you have so much power??

Alas, they weren't for me, but for a split second they were, even if only in my head. And they were lovely. Think she'll notice if one by one they're siphoned out of her vase into mine?

Friday, August 9, 2013

Child of the 80's

I'm 100% a child of the 80's. I love its music, its over the top colors and layering of slouch socks. I do not, however, miss its crunchy hair, mall bangs, and having to spend 15 minutes of my day, every day, re-tight rolling my jeans.

I'm sure many of you have already  seen the article going around on Facebook on the "53 Things Only 80's Girls Can Understand , but if you had not yet taken 5 minutes out of your day for a little rainbow, glitter, and scratch and sniff walk down memory lane, I thought I'd give you the opportunity. If you were lucky enough to experience the 80's, clicking on the link above will give you a good chuckle as you nod your head to all it's ridiculousness.

And to make this a little more personal, here are just a few quick stories about my 80s ridiculousness:

  • I became one of the first, proud owners of a Pound Puppy in our cul-du-sac, which I spun into a story on how we had just gotten a new puppy. A real puppy mind you. Now if you remember Pound Puppies, they look nothing like a real dog. Not in the least. Well, being the creative and bossy gal that I was, I made all of our cul-du-sac friends "view" our new puppy from the curb, as I revealed him through our front, picture window for probably 30 seconds and then quickly scooted him out of said window on account of him being "shy". What a twerp? Sadly, some of the kids believed me and were jealous of our new "dog". Apparently, we were all gullible twerps on our block.

  • Jem was my jam. I wanted to be Jem so badly. And being the kid on the block who always choreographed plays, dances and backyard circuses and made my friends dress up, I OF COURSE had to host a Jem play. Duh. So we dressed up like the Holograms, made up our dances and rallied a few of the moms and the elderly couple from the across the street and charged them $.25 to view our shenanigans. Where things went horribly wrong was the fact that I came down with major stage fright and refused to go "on stage" aka our back patio. I can remember crying behind the garage because I didn't want to sing but I also didn't want to return the $1.50 that we just made. Alas, my mom made me give everyone their money back and I hung my crimped head in shame. I knew then that being a fake rock star like Jem was way hard and decided to stick with Barbie. She was a lot less threatening.

  • If you don't still love NKOTB, pink boom boxes, Caboodles, plastic charm necklaces and jelly bracelets, we can't be friends. Sorry. Non-negotiable.

  • I'd like you to meet our 3rd Cabbage Patch Kid with its janky, blond haircut. One day my brother and I were watching TV and the doorbell rings. We run to the door to see which one of our friends would be asking to play, yet there's no one there. Until we look down. Insert a naked Cabbage Patch baby with a bad, homemade haircut lying on our welcome mat. We were awestruck! Someone had abandoned their "child" and had chosen us to adopt her. They must have really trusted us, we thought. Only a child of the 80's would find a forfeited, naked Cabbage Patch kid on their doorstep and think it an honor and not a creepy threat. 

  • I'm just going to say it. My parents never bought me a Popple. Still makes me kind of sad. All of my friends had Popples. AND the Barbie Mansion. Not me. BUT, what I did have and had forgotten all about it until I read the article was Pootchie stationary. I loved my Pootchie! What was not to love about a plastic dog with hot pink fuzzy ears who stamped your paper?? Do they even make toys this cool anymore? I highly doubt it. 80's toys were straight up Rad. Bring back Pootchie, Bring back Pootchie!
Anyone want to swap some Lisa Frank stickers for our Trapper Keepers before school starts?!

Thursday, August 8, 2013

A Vintage Explosion

I know my little event rental business isn't trending on Twitter or anything epic, BUT, dude, we've had a vintage wedding explosion this week! I'm worn out. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

In the last 4 days alone, we've booked 2 more weddings which bumps us up to 8 this summer. What started off at 2 weddings rapidly grew to 8, and although 8 may not seem like a lot, when you're meeting with brides, helping capture their vision, and hauling large, vintage pieces up and down stairs and in and out of trucks, it seems like quite a bit of work.

Today alone, I've schedule two more wedding consults with one of the brides asking this morning if she and her fiancé can meet with us tonight. Tonight??!! With their wedding only a month away, I will gladly delay my dinner making ritual for an hour to make sure their day is as special as they want it to be. Thankfully the Hubs is awesome and doesn't mind eating at 8pm, which he did last night thanks to another bride consult.

What a crazy, silly, and fun ride this has been and is becoming! With 8 in our first summer and 3 already on the books for 2014 before we even hit the bridal expo circuit, I'm trying to just sit back and relish in getting to be a teeny tiny part of local couple's "best day ever". Who would've thought?

Thanks to our friends and family for your support, leads on awesome finds, and constantly giving us fantastic word of mouth treatment. You make all of this so much more fun!

Not following us on Facebook yet, give a glance and a "Like" if you're feeling friendly! We'd love to meet you!

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

The Boredomette Finale-Praise The Lord

We made it folks! We've survived the painful path that is Desiree Hartsock's love life. I don't know about you, but it was touch and go for me. I started off encouraged. That was until Des showed up on my screen in episode one sans her infamous bangs that made her stand out to me when she was just 1 of 25 with Sean. Why ruin a good thing? She looked so adorable with the bangs and just like that, they were written out of the script. I should've known it would be all down hill from there.

Although I've stood by my theory that this has been the most boring season ever, I cannot pin point what exactly turned me off. The guys, as a whole, were okay with a few strong, front runners sprinkled in the group. Des was sweet, polite, genuine, and yet, I was un-enthused by each and every episode. I tried, trust me. The Hubs enjoyed this season way more than I did and for that I'm a bit jealous. Oh well, it forced me to take the time to paint my nails which I usually put off. Thanks to ABC, my nails have been painted religiously over the last 8 weeks. Thank you, ABC.

I honestly think what it boils down to is that after a decade of being a hardcore Bachelor and Bachelorette fan, we've pretty much seen it all. They have nothing left up their sleeve. Will I still devote my Monday nights to this TV franchise, duh. But, Chris, can we please find new and exciting date characteristics outside of:
  • Helicopters
  • Beach picnics
  • Repelling from great heights
  • Fireworks as we listen awkwardly to two people make out
  • "Impromptu" private concerts
Give us some new material, puh-lease. We're begging for it. Just watch your #Bachelorette Twitter feeds. When Des' lackluster wardrobe gets more talk time than the actual humans on the show, it's time to change up a few things in a hurry.

As for the finale, my humble, parting thoughts are as follows:
  • Drew is a class act. I was more impressed with him in those final 10 minutes than I have been with any other segment of this season. He was genuine, respectful, transparent, and classy. I loved that he asked her some hard questions that made her stumble a bit. In those 10 minutes, America knew he was real and his love for Des had been real. Love is messy sometimes and one person is always left wondering "could I have done something differently?" Way to go for asking it, Drew. I wanted to hug him in his cute, little gray suit. Drew, as Chris said, you'll be just fine. Keep that perfect chin up, my friend. I give you about 6 months before you're engaged to someone amazing.

  • Brooks looked unsure of his choice to me. Anyone else get that vibe? He looked one word away from bawling the entire After the Rose special. I don't know if he still felt bad for leaving her or if he regretted his decision, but homeboy was feeling something deep down. Chris H., THIS is when America needs you to ask the probing "so let me get this straight..." questions! I was never a huge Brooks fan, but I did kind of feel sorry for him when I saw his new hair cut. It's gotta be hard to see your hair commented on via large, yellow Twitter feeds gracing all of our TVs each episode. His poor hair never got a break.

  • As far as Chris goes, I really don't have much to say. I'm glad he and Des seem so happy, and I wish them both the very best. I wish I had more to say, but he was never one of my front runners, so honestly much of his screen time was spent applying my above mentioned nail polish.

  • Finally, Juan Pablo. 1) Why is the next season not until January??? What's a girl to do between now and then?? 2) Juan Pablo was one of my picks for the next Bachelor, but after his introduction to his season on Monday night, I'm wondering if subtitles might be a smart idea? Did anyone else have a really hard time understanding him? I keep joking with the Hubs that with Juan Pablo "beauty speaks every language", but a whole season of me saying "what did he just say", just might prove that theory wrong. This very well could end up being a long season too. A handsome season, but a long one.
Cheers, Bachelor Nation friends. We made it! Des found love and America found Juan Pablo. It's been real, it's been fun, but it certainly wasn't real fun.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Changing the Course

Today I begin the process to completely change someone's course. I dislike having this much power. I dislike it greatly. And yet, at the same time, I feel as though I hold zero of the power in our relationship. Funny how that works.

Today I begin the process of taking away someone's home. Their safe place. Their little slice of the world. Where it gets tricky is that "their" little slice is owned by me. I'm letting them borrow what was once my little slice of the world, and my favorite slice at that. It, however, came with an agreement on what it costs to own and operate that place, and sadly, that agreement is no longer being upheld.

I lost the power when someone I trusted let go of their promise. And when they let go, I had to pick up the pieces. No one asked me if I could afford it. No one asked me if I minded. No one gave me a choice in that matter, so now they force me to invoke the one choice that have. It was my last choice and I wanted so badly to do anything but.

Today someone must begin to pack up their life and find a new slice of the world and I must figure out what to do with it yet again. I hate knowing that I have to be a person who must kick someone out of their home, but they've given me no choice. Their choices left me without one.

I feel sick for me AND for them. I feel like it's hard to breathe right now. I'm guessing, somewhere 1,000 miles away, they're struggling to catch the same air. We both lost today.

Friday, August 2, 2013

My Life in Photos

Well, we made it through the night without a gunman, cannon or garage door. Phew!

Since it's Friday and all of my brainpower apparently checked out on Thursday, I bring you, my life through photos. Here's a little of what we've been up to over the last month or two.

Have a great weekend, y'all!

Rollin' through the hood with a poodle on his lap. That's my man. Hands off!

One of our vintage items greeting wedding guests as the enter the ceremony dockside. Such a cool venue!

The things we do in the name of weddings! Just riding down the road trying to hold the Jeep door closed. In a dress. 

Sometimes you just want to forgo the actual bible study and play board games. If you ever play Quelf, be prepared to be forced to wear napkins in your shirt, sing with your belly button, and build adults forts and sit in them alone for 10 minutes.

My little camera diva. Work it, Piggy, act playful with the camera. This little man has my heart. Please excuse the ironing board in the background. Playing with Piggy was way more fun.

Yep, in our casa, you never know where you might find a gnome. In this case, he was waiting for me under the covers. #Payback

Quality time with my hostie. Love that girl!

One of our beautiful rental weddings. The couple was gorgeous and their venue made me crave a visit to a SC plantation. I didn't want to leave. #weddingcrasher
Photo credit- Courtney Rose Photography


And they lived happily ever after.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Noise

Over the last few nights, at approximately 10:45pm, a loud "pop" can be heard outside of our home. It's really loud, like a boom/pop/crash all mixed together, and we have zero clue as to what is causing the boompopcrash.

Me, being me, am convinced it was a gunshot and that we're next. Surely the neighbors are being shot one house at a time and the gunman is headed straight for us. The Hubs tried to convince me it's the church across the street slamming their garage door. Umm, yeah, but no. That would have to be one heck of a monster garage door being shut at about 40 miles per hour to make that noise. I get that he was trying to protectively divert my attention away from a possible gunshot, but, c'mon. A garage door? He also suggested a cannon. That made a little more sense, but I don't recall seeing any cannons in the neighbor's yard when we walk the dog.

The best part about this noise phenomenon is that my Hubs never acknowledges loud noises. Never. I've noticed over the last year since I moved in, that if something pops, booms, or even bangs against the side of our house, he doesn't move a muscle. He won't even blink. I have to ask if he "heard that" and he'll always say yes, but is never the one to acknowledge it. I think he thinks if he doesn't acknowledge the noise than it didn't happen. However, it does happen and it cracks me up. I asked him last night if he thought acknowledging odd sounds was a sign of weakness and he laughed and assured me that's not why he does it, but I can't fathom why else he doesn't fess up to hearing the branch hit the roof or the cannon being fired off at 10:45pm? And they say women are confusing?

So, tonight, I think we'll do a stake out. I'll have the Hubs watching the church garage door across the street, and I'll survey the neighbor's yard for any cannon blasts. And if I don't post anything tomorrow, please alert the authorities that I was right and that our poor neighbors have been picked off one by one and we were schedule for Thursday evening, promptly at 10:45pm. And, cops,  don't even bother questioning my Hubs. He'll act like he didn't hear a thing. Trust me.