tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684133408233350212024-03-14T11:20:25.989-05:00What's a Grown-Up, Anyway?The life and times of a reluctant grown-upCasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-34487666798504451572013-09-28T08:59:00.001-05:002013-09-28T08:59:10.202-05:00Misty, Purple Colored Memories<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHc4f4HebODuT8J1ZLhE1QIENhcruZfXuLN77c_-iO3R3AxAOTSC367_eSFixZySEzUJXrRWJULUEobQ7NwaUKiwuv93-kHpOAzhkncqcWnfJ0bn3ZREphexz8OFwFlcTg6YS8yzd2Fxo/s640/blogger-image-1658343329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So last Saturday there was the Evansville Jazz and Wine Festival. This was the 6th annual, and of the 6, I have attended five.</div></div></span><div><font face="Noteworthy" size="4"><span style="line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><b><br></b></span></font><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Here's a photo history of my wine fest tenure:</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2I46x05v3mo3UB9Isoxu0xjMfFEPXfgG5KwP2hRv6oQUuQaoXqEeTAcAC3dpD3GPuUIBz9nVP9wOxSomBWK4YGHXeVQy-XJwwFwEqsATes1QDXFpLWB6yTTYbUR7WY18ahL2g0ZGurck/s640/blogger-image-1654025727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2I46x05v3mo3UB9Isoxu0xjMfFEPXfgG5KwP2hRv6oQUuQaoXqEeTAcAC3dpD3GPuUIBz9nVP9wOxSomBWK4YGHXeVQy-XJwwFwEqsATes1QDXFpLWB6yTTYbUR7WY18ahL2g0ZGurck/s640/blogger-image-1654025727.jpg"></a></div></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8qXhJ0KqUIzBU90vWT6tHQEFzbjf9f8x7iHQId6m9aK8qENEm3DhkbRa5OSdALXj9poEXPwFncTjthX9KTm8Kb83v00TqQ1UHGETUmi0m4lUsj6QywUY8QanyCHPqvxWcXEaBJODxHk/s640/blogger-image--2146456804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8qXhJ0KqUIzBU90vWT6tHQEFzbjf9f8x7iHQId6m9aK8qENEm3DhkbRa5OSdALXj9poEXPwFncTjthX9KTm8Kb83v00TqQ1UHGETUmi0m4lUsj6QywUY8QanyCHPqvxWcXEaBJODxHk/s640/blogger-image--2146456804.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMDZLWHIOGV3ls-RzqAHy54_BtePV9gBQQSsz7Gy67VDs78UVMFF0Um1egsYoLz3P-4kZVlSS4_zKxqLkOYdluHYunnaEzA3I_HsbRJZhiDlJ2nUFC7N4LKUEp4Mn6rACOH9bPKDXUX9k/s640/blogger-image-1741222905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMDZLWHIOGV3ls-RzqAHy54_BtePV9gBQQSsz7Gy67VDs78UVMFF0Um1egsYoLz3P-4kZVlSS4_zKxqLkOYdluHYunnaEzA3I_HsbRJZhiDlJ2nUFC7N4LKUEp4Mn6rACOH9bPKDXUX9k/s640/blogger-image-1741222905.jpg"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMDZLWHIOGV3ls-RzqAHy54_BtePV9gBQQSsz7Gy67VDs78UVMFF0Um1egsYoLz3P-4kZVlSS4_zKxqLkOYdluHYunnaEzA3I_HsbRJZhiDlJ2nUFC7N4LKUEp4Mn6rACOH9bPKDXUX9k/s640/blogger-image-1741222905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOI7y10hORkCgc1LaTeQ5fyTjvA_DlzIoNZGiQ7X1MZLzbXiGglfk1cHAKFpx_s_pMtGC6ERttiYV_Kwo9XPZIfUDS-jzi2GpUD_QUD8rtpZR2M93YBKTKIO2DzL4FoPFaarziYNqIEs/s640/blogger-image--581848189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOI7y10hORkCgc1LaTeQ5fyTjvA_DlzIoNZGiQ7X1MZLzbXiGglfk1cHAKFpx_s_pMtGC6ERttiYV_Kwo9XPZIfUDS-jzi2GpUD_QUD8rtpZR2M93YBKTKIO2DzL4FoPFaarziYNqIEs/s640/blogger-image--581848189.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcoNDzNzGpVlLDSa1AHxVcqCkEKkaiNWWjxrv2aY8bqOo4KMV_CWJX1kQDYZIN_Bbpbomz79-dGUaLnEIH4CUxSVwzn1K5WUIov81WB4YgiqH3su1bfZUXdFNBleWGC9I_KHU9-NSL3k/s640/blogger-image-1406423410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcoNDzNzGpVlLDSa1AHxVcqCkEKkaiNWWjxrv2aY8bqOo4KMV_CWJX1kQDYZIN_Bbpbomz79-dGUaLnEIH4CUxSVwzn1K5WUIov81WB4YgiqH3su1bfZUXdFNBleWGC9I_KHU9-NSL3k/s640/blogger-image-1406423410.jpg"></a></div>So I gathered a sweet group and headed back for year five. This year, we decided not to wait until we got to the festival to start tasting wine and got a couple of bottles to drink on the trip. (Sorry, Mom.) However, we wouldn't let our fearless leader have any until we got there. And then he did this: </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-dgOOus1j2J_sG7ZC-SmEXjwxi3OZCW8gAAOBpliDknhNJmRI0GJQSAeGMR2c3Lo4zPJUL7bCd39qJcFHHioDj4SqlEhDpLY8RUJpTDh_VJjjFLLqeeeEO787D2Ua0TcKKT-kkV3Jyk/s640/blogger-image--1670633613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-dgOOus1j2J_sG7ZC-SmEXjwxi3OZCW8gAAOBpliDknhNJmRI0GJQSAeGMR2c3Lo4zPJUL7bCd39qJcFHHioDj4SqlEhDpLY8RUJpTDh_VJjjFLLqeeeEO787D2Ua0TcKKT-kkV3Jyk/s640/blogger-image--1670633613.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">And this: </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbidWDd0I3wQIfKpc-kMOW8rbCCkFHrUDpzBzQAEzJiWLyE_BwgbcXvgDCIMevdh56ytUBB_1sBTyrt-Kf5cXdiF7W1IKdg_WPlidox76htZC1lbS_OiGYi0m423yjXAwr8w0_oMZLX0/s640/blogger-image--1172943709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbidWDd0I3wQIfKpc-kMOW8rbCCkFHrUDpzBzQAEzJiWLyE_BwgbcXvgDCIMevdh56ytUBB_1sBTyrt-Kf5cXdiF7W1IKdg_WPlidox76htZC1lbS_OiGYi0m423yjXAwr8w0_oMZLX0/s640/blogger-image--1172943709.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">When we got to the fest, there may or may not have been two members of our group who were already feeling pretttttty good. So we proceeded to start terrorizing the people at this festival. I feel relatively confident I told more than one winemaker that his 'grape juice' was delicious and said more than once--way too loud-- that certain wines had 'gone bad.' I also feel confident that I can't recall all of the details of the evening, but I do know these facts.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--April left her cell phone in a restaurant bathroom. They were none to happy that we busted in there demanding to use a toilet, because apparently there are 'rules' against that sort of thing.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--In said bathroom, I randomly tied a pink ribbon to April's shoe and told her to keep it forever. And she did. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1KJPR1FDyG7OqL2HMsQuFjBE9cWH7IGN0vRoezGSyyb7CE836aflXgsemB0YDLtpHJMPdL36gykykEyVLMEA_NHTipb3YhTJTINQWcIAwpYs8-mthgLO9g4A_kACjmbMGaRuvTMVrqo/s640/blogger-image--477457753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1KJPR1FDyG7OqL2HMsQuFjBE9cWH7IGN0vRoezGSyyb7CE836aflXgsemB0YDLtpHJMPdL36gykykEyVLMEA_NHTipb3YhTJTINQWcIAwpYs8-mthgLO9g4A_kACjmbMGaRuvTMVrqo/s640/blogger-image--477457753.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--We purchased these sweet redneck wine glasses which I call 'roadies.' (See earlier comment about drinking in the car.)</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--Destiny made friends with a bathroom attendant. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWv3bdf2WMQAfAySZiMfiMbDKmsNDjVRxkcxwNmb9iMUfpYVcvbGoQ9-WgKf5RcKp6byE98eS3hPNo2hCSEk6yYS4Ya_jStkjm2GAsYEM2x8Yqma_2EMFWDa9XzD8Ocut6vC8FSPnMxl8/s640/blogger-image-184760784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWv3bdf2WMQAfAySZiMfiMbDKmsNDjVRxkcxwNmb9iMUfpYVcvbGoQ9-WgKf5RcKp6byE98eS3hPNo2hCSEk6yYS4Ya_jStkjm2GAsYEM2x8Yqma_2EMFWDa9XzD8Ocut6vC8FSPnMxl8/s640/blogger-image-184760784.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--I accidentally said to a very attractive, yet married man 'on a scale of 1-10, how married are you?' And by accidentally, I mean absolutely on purpose. The wine made me do it.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--He said 7. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--I spent a ridiculous amount of money buying a ridiculous amount of wine. I won't tell you exactly how much, but I will say I was actually scared to check my bank account the next morning.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--Destiny coined my newest nickname: wine ninja. Because apparently she didn't see me buy a single one of the 16 bottles of wine I purchased. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--I kept a quote page, and these were only the ones I was sober enough to write down: </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><div>I think he has his dentures in backward. </div><div><br></div><div>Wine milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. </div><div><br></div><div>I smell frosting. What are y'all doing back there?</div><div><br></div><div>April to Destiny: It drops 2 degrees and white girls gotta start wearing knee boots </div><div>Casi: Umm I'm wearing knee boots. </div><div><br></div><div>If JessicaBiel and Julia Roberts made a baby, it'd be a f***ing horse. </div><div>...a Shetland pony.</div><div><br></div><div>Don't call me a b*tch.</div><div>But you called me an MF. (This quote has not been censored. He actually said M.F.) </div><div><br></div><div>Casi to Destiny: How are you gonna try any wine with that full glass? </div><div>Destiny: I'm gonna tell them just to pour it on top. </div><div><br></div><div>If you don't watch sharknado, something is wrong with you. </div><div><br></div><div>Chris: How did you just 'like' the Ellen Degeneras show on Facebook? It just popped up: Casi Clark likes the Ellen Degeneras show </div><div><br></div></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--Allegedly, I tried to steal a golf cart. I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations. Mostly because I don't remember that part.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--Destiny fell asleep mere minutes into the trip home. But when we got back to Chris and April's, she got her second wind. Which was good because: </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">--We had a porch party! We literally had a wine-infused dance party on Chris and April's porch, and Kevin and his friends even came down to dance with us. These poor young soles now think 30 looks like purple teeth and dancing barefoot on a porch to early 90's rap songs. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">All-in-all, it was a historically funny night, and word on the street is that April is already gearing up for next year and searching for other wine festivals that we can attempt to get kicked out of. I, for one, almost had a golf cart we could've driven around the next wine fest. But, laws. </div><div><br></div></div>Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-32541775280425055772013-09-25T07:17:00.001-05:002013-09-25T15:08:52.765-05:00Last Beginnings<br />
A wise fortune cookie fortune once said 'Do not give up, the beginning is always the hardest part.'<br />
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While I agree with this sentiment, I also hold the belief that most times, the beginning is the best part. <br />
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Think about good beginnings. The beginning of a vacation when your excitement level is immeasurable, and you feel so positive about the days ahead. The beginning of a really good book that once it sucks you in, you can't put it down. The beginning of a friendship when you feel like you've known the person your whole life, but still have so many memories to make. The beginning of a great love when every first--your first date, your first kiss, the first time you realize how much you like him--feels like it could sustain you for a lifetime. Beginnings, to me, while sometimes tough, are always the best part.<br />
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A good friend of mine recently shared with me an incredibly wise perspective. My friend Kelsey is this insanely intelligent, driven, beautiful 24 year old woman who is exactly where I was at 24. She is anxious and excited to know where life is taking her. What city, what career, what relationship, and what future lies ahead of her is what excites her, and also makes her a little nervous. But recently when discussing where we both were in our love lives, she said to me, 'but you know what? I'm not really sure I'm ready for my last beginning.'<br />
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We share the same love of beginnings, and being at such a transitional time in her life, she has this amazing perspective that if something ends, it just means there's another exciting beginning waiting for her. I was shocked and mesmerized that someone so young could have such an amazingly wise perspective. <br />
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I think at 30, I've experienced a lot of my last big beginnings. I think I'm surrounded by most of the friends who will be my friends for life. Those friends who will make up all of the supporting roles in the story of Casi and be there through it all. So when it comes to friendships, there may not be a lot of beginnings left for me. I work in a job that I love so much, they'll have to force me to leave kicking and screaming. So on the career front, I may very well have had my last beginning. I feel mostly confident that I live where I need to live and live a life that I was destined for. So that doesn't leave a lot of room for new beginnings. <br />
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But then there's love. I've experienced more than my fair share of great beginnings in love. I've been swept off my feet, I've had friendships that turned into love, and I've felt the slow burn of gradual love. While all unique and special in their own way, each of those loves has ended, been taken, or faded away. But one thing is for sure, each of those endings has been followed by a new and greater beginning. <br />
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I have no idea if I've yet experienced my last beginning in love. I have no idea what my future holds or what God's plan for me is. But I know I'm excited and eager to find out. I know that if I have, in fact, had my last beginning, that there is a lifetime of firsts waiting for me. A lifetime of true and unconditional love where every single day is a new beginning. <br />
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But knowing that at the end of everything awaits a new and exciting beginning, how can I not be perfectly happy and at peace knowing that someday when I realize I've experienced my last beginning that there is a lifetime of sharing new beginnings with the very person who was my very last beginning?<br />
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Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-24713554942363827182013-09-22T10:40:00.001-05:002013-09-24T07:26:41.284-05:00A Peace of ParadiseRecently while vacationing, I felt something I'm not sure I've ever felt before. There were several times throughout the week that I started feeling this strange sense of being uncomfortable. I was in paradise, I was surrounded by incredibly generous and hilarious people, I didn't have to work or clean my house or talk about college or worry about stressors looming over me. And yet, I was uncomfortable. Finally, I spent one quiet day at the beach reflecting on what was making me feel this way and one philosophical conversation with a friend brought it all to light.<br />
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I was feeling at peace on this vacation. I wasn't worried or stressed or over thinking or overcommitted or exhausted. I was so at peace, in fact, that it made me uncomfortable. It was this indescribable feeling that I was exactly where I needed to be in each moment and doing exactly what I needed to do. I was grateful and connected and centered and happy to a point where it was almost a foreign feeling. Life was just perfect, and I wasn't used to that. What was wrong was that there was absolutely nothing wrong. And once I realized that, I started to really like it.<br />
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I knew when I returned home that I wouldn't be able to maintain this peacefulness every second of every day. Things will stress me out, upset me, wear me down. But knowing that this indescribable level of peace exists and can be achieved gives me hope that I can bring some of it home with me into my every day life. And maintaining the realization that in life I am exactly where I'm supposed to be may make all the difference.<br />
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Home isn't paradise. And some things at home use up my energy more than they give me energy. There is stress and hurt and anxiety and worry at times. But maybe I can bring home a little of the peace of paradise. Maybe this feeling of complete weightlessness can exist during moments of real life too. But knowing that somewhere out there exists a level of peace beyond your understanding and comfortability is enough to make you want to feel it every single day. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBLiWm20eHvxhyphenhyphensqI7q3l3bhyOsOkQAgGswEnpGn_04qGnEkJ8VEwJMnZ4gG0GzUR2ql3wm2rEH8Xia9IWELVtJUNipuLbv2TADuHgFB1isQnBqPR-v4yCAZnW13q3ovkreG8VznE7Po/s640/blogger-image-1023656689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBLiWm20eHvxhyphenhyphensqI7q3l3bhyOsOkQAgGswEnpGn_04qGnEkJ8VEwJMnZ4gG0GzUR2ql3wm2rEH8Xia9IWELVtJUNipuLbv2TADuHgFB1isQnBqPR-v4yCAZnW13q3ovkreG8VznE7Po/s640/blogger-image-1023656689.jpg" /></a></div>Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-15021651975804327762013-09-22T10:17:00.001-05:002013-09-22T10:17:30.121-05:00Marble Jar Friends<br />
I have been reading the book Daring Greatly by Brene Brown. If you haven't heard of her, do yourself a favor and look up her work. It will change your life. <br />
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In this book, she references a very good lesson her young daughter learned about betrayal and how she related it to a classroom incentive her daughter's teacher implemented. <br />
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The teacher had a marble jar on her desk and as the class made collectively good decisions, she added marbles to the jar. If they were making poor choices, she removed marbles from the jar. When and if the marbles reached the top of the jar, the students were rewarded. <br />
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After an experience of betrayal, the author related the marble jar activity to friends and had her daughter recite friends who, in life, added marbles to her jar while other friends might be the ones to take out the marbles.<br />
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After reading this anecdote , I stopped to think on my marble jar for a moment. In life, I've been really really blessed to have so many friends who fill my marble jar. The friends who keep your secrets, the friends who love and support without judgement, the friends who were there when things fell apart, the friends who helped put me back together. <br />
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Of course, I've had a few friends who have removed marbles from my jar. Either they were friends who took more than they gave or felt entitled to rewrite the stories I was living, or generally really great friends who stumbled, judged, acted selfishly or handled things poorly. But luckily, despite those people or those moments, my marble jar stays full, and every day I am rewarded with these generous and loving people in my life. <br />
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I hope to be a friend who adds marbles to the jars of people in my life. I hope that I return the favor of being someone who can be confided in and trusted to love without abandon. I aspire to be the friend who each of my friends can go to when they need a shoulder, a new perspective, or a stiff drink. And if there's a day when I act selfishly or handle something poorly, I hope my friends can tell me I'm taking marbles from their jar, allow me to apologize, and replace the marbles. I want to be a marble jar friend. Because if life has blessed me with so many and filled my jar so fully, the least I can do is give of my marbles freely and without expectation. After all, these marble jar friends, so many times, have been the ones to keep me from losing all of my marbles.<br />
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People who fill my marble jar: <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjd0Er2y-Cgd_-WMEfh3qTCynM-aBlkAAxerXdIPY1lFJcoIUOhxY7Kru7GL8swPWzM2aVTyhtShhHo-0a9xKN6cunog1JXDbWyHEt8zkX0gvmJ6tgqKi5YRECmKl4-couaQqDyzBF7k/s640/blogger-image--1048774286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjd0Er2y-Cgd_-WMEfh3qTCynM-aBlkAAxerXdIPY1lFJcoIUOhxY7Kru7GL8swPWzM2aVTyhtShhHo-0a9xKN6cunog1JXDbWyHEt8zkX0gvmJ6tgqKi5YRECmKl4-couaQqDyzBF7k/s640/blogger-image--1048774286.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjva-mDHS3QDpGnM3jQy0afzL46mk-VF2oVcR7m9H_Q6mUftz6XgZe8TvRBZyFnHYO04f1j-UNaUVJr9UtnT2AjTt2wXiGq9pAk3kvfRelMT22uRG3UctCJ8KnrAww78BsVVR_dn0xtllI/s640/blogger-image--1963762543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjva-mDHS3QDpGnM3jQy0afzL46mk-VF2oVcR7m9H_Q6mUftz6XgZe8TvRBZyFnHYO04f1j-UNaUVJr9UtnT2AjTt2wXiGq9pAk3kvfRelMT22uRG3UctCJ8KnrAww78BsVVR_dn0xtllI/s640/blogger-image--1963762543.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7whM9l0-eXSZXlagE18Ani6CfmIf83JNJrWaGl0ShFq3eeglRLckSGMPAtXaMjfoN3Qm-e7JaJUNTKmC7Xv_aaqU-kn9s96QDRY2QfikEemQqGCL2zkGZ_yR3QjQwnqfqIpKNNe0J4I/s640/blogger-image-293333323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU7whM9l0-eXSZXlagE18Ani6CfmIf83JNJrWaGl0ShFq3eeglRLckSGMPAtXaMjfoN3Qm-e7JaJUNTKmC7Xv_aaqU-kn9s96QDRY2QfikEemQqGCL2zkGZ_yR3QjQwnqfqIpKNNe0J4I/s640/blogger-image-293333323.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tKZQtiNWq4BCnsP9BWEV_ihM5XlRBPWoP1F6nt64alrpz9Y6YJZyKXiT3mOSOTpywf4tAZKvd_LZPcBNph-5UU0sMFxJFD3KxQZP7Vva6G2d4s5rRv-MLyrHpYBT1MzDsOpc41Ammlk/s640/blogger-image-964780374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tKZQtiNWq4BCnsP9BWEV_ihM5XlRBPWoP1F6nt64alrpz9Y6YJZyKXiT3mOSOTpywf4tAZKvd_LZPcBNph-5UU0sMFxJFD3KxQZP7Vva6G2d4s5rRv-MLyrHpYBT1MzDsOpc41Ammlk/s640/blogger-image-964780374.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyMmwiqWBuuXplV-UW9nuO_gazkZNUBRYxk1MYCCcHi3V_E0P7RpdIOt9S0Ug5h3NBWCmsC66FhmH8Odmz0Zn5aussGn1TwCPblffCiij4qo47QMaIMpcTkk5d3Ggg6X1lQEg82c_jEY/s640/blogger-image--349911141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyMmwiqWBuuXplV-UW9nuO_gazkZNUBRYxk1MYCCcHi3V_E0P7RpdIOt9S0Ug5h3NBWCmsC66FhmH8Odmz0Zn5aussGn1TwCPblffCiij4qo47QMaIMpcTkk5d3Ggg6X1lQEg82c_jEY/s640/blogger-image--349911141.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhdZsPo3HyHQ1ekDgfxdSF_FvoNJoGnFBAYUL3w-Y2buM-sOVxTEqGKR1pXRBDqYPgMQ_RzSgt5a5kiC3e78-mSfWfM91CscVXM_4G0S1WfsAk5LApXbD9XKFYIx_hmEZIWenEXmqaik/s640/blogger-image-2047483130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhdZsPo3HyHQ1ekDgfxdSF_FvoNJoGnFBAYUL3w-Y2buM-sOVxTEqGKR1pXRBDqYPgMQ_RzSgt5a5kiC3e78-mSfWfM91CscVXM_4G0S1WfsAk5LApXbD9XKFYIx_hmEZIWenEXmqaik/s640/blogger-image-2047483130.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_RqCsaAYhiDQIJ5NmxADHVgcBdlyH2Ns-iX_ZoJOzcIn1WTAjKUs2zA56Uq01wr4x1C8miPf4C41MiFeV23KPlGNNap81HG0Gxp1VE-iYT8iGqdQoN4hgTNUW9UdYJiNfWhugTfyrik/s640/blogger-image-1725721556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_RqCsaAYhiDQIJ5NmxADHVgcBdlyH2Ns-iX_ZoJOzcIn1WTAjKUs2zA56Uq01wr4x1C8miPf4C41MiFeV23KPlGNNap81HG0Gxp1VE-iYT8iGqdQoN4hgTNUW9UdYJiNfWhugTfyrik/s640/blogger-image-1725721556.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4JgwJcY7S0RjfQhy3k5CtI71l9dKnMVbHP_JlejSgYmTvsKBVUgXV80k5NHgcbeS1qIXRcCRdEn06NTfAWSSQjVmEfxTElzfFqMpCSbXeL0NJ7fDI-YjVASrIRDH97KHxQLKdSuMmew/s640/blogger-image-1403401764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4JgwJcY7S0RjfQhy3k5CtI71l9dKnMVbHP_JlejSgYmTvsKBVUgXV80k5NHgcbeS1qIXRcCRdEn06NTfAWSSQjVmEfxTElzfFqMpCSbXeL0NJ7fDI-YjVASrIRDH97KHxQLKdSuMmew/s640/blogger-image-1403401764.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmiLt8nPV5x6jK_feGy8YJKjHHEh7VcPSw_642NrQCi772XAtksltIjHZ_qgDH9p50PytotxrgWxpA_Gwm6LzOh9t-FxPBdI2U6H0ErubA751lYhwSU2K5ZECJS8isghib5tjEFGrc_0/s640/blogger-image-2046684002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmiLt8nPV5x6jK_feGy8YJKjHHEh7VcPSw_642NrQCi772XAtksltIjHZ_qgDH9p50PytotxrgWxpA_Gwm6LzOh9t-FxPBdI2U6H0ErubA751lYhwSU2K5ZECJS8isghib5tjEFGrc_0/s640/blogger-image-2046684002.jpg" /></a></div>Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-89238548173017726472013-07-09T22:07:00.003-05:002013-07-10T07:57:38.453-05:00All Roads Lead to ?????Have you ever found yourself traveling somewhere, your GPS doing a great job of thinking for you, when the voice coming through that small black box goes silent, you glance down to see only 'lost signal' and ahead of you, you're faced with a multitude of ways to turn but no earthly idea which direction is the right one to take you on your journey?? (Also, have you ever written a sentence THAT long? That's beside the point.) <br />
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Lately I have been feeling like my GPS isn't working. I know I'm on a journey, I know there is a destination, but when I listen for the voice, it's silent and when I look for the path, I see the screen is still loading. <br />
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If you read my blog a million years ago when I actually found the time and motivation to write, you know I absolutely thought I had my life mapped out for me. A simple life on a beautiful farm with a wonderful SO who would someday be the father of my children, and we'd find ourselves--in twenty years--old people rocking on the porch talking about the great travel and the little things and the moments that made our life so great. Except that somewhere along the line, I spilled wine all over that map and lost my way. <br />
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Now I find myself sitting at the intersection of adulthood wondering which road I'm supposed to turn down, not hearing a damn peep from the 'ole Garmin!<br />
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It's not a cake walk. I can't say I don't want to hear some kind of navigational tip, I can't say I don't want someone to tell me which road to take, and I can't say I have a naturally keen sense of direction. But I can say: it's not all that bad. <br />
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I don't know where life is taking me. I don't know exactly what God has in store for me, but I do know it's going to be pretty amazing. It's going to be better than I could ever imagine. <br />
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And at least, while I'm sitting here wondering which road is the right one for me, I can enjoy the adventure! <br />
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"Author's" note: (haha, yeah I totally put that in quotes!) After a break and an array of changes in my life, I've happily come back to blogging! Head over to www.thebluegrasstrifecta.blogspot.com to read my guest post about the last couple of months of my life. And keep visiting them for more great guest bloggers and a pretty spectacular line-up. Also, keep checking back here to see how long I last before the throwing in the towel again. Just kidding, I promise to stick around for at least a little while. <br />
Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-46290908690312899992012-10-22T17:53:00.000-05:002012-10-22T17:53:15.290-05:00A Few Perfect Days in a Few Perfect PicturesHey few blog-readers that are left now that I post once in a blue moon because I'm crazy busy and focusing on other things--<br />
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Just wanted to check in and tell you that I had a nearly perfect week and weekend. I remember the week being really great, but don't remember too many specifics, because I am still super busy. Work is going well (how's that for being overwhelmed?), and I got to hang out with my awesome family and carve pumpkins!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Sm38RtsjMgV5Pm41ARp0YMrAV1JVDH8DFL5F_IaM1ZnmUHc3Lr94f9ctqwultOSLfea64fB8Qmlu8I2pDuu0s-ClWftLwsWxckolp7yY0Sk44dDb3aANGdmnHqXvasHY-9ZaVXSU3vs/s1600/63138_584924794613_2100860027_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Sm38RtsjMgV5Pm41ARp0YMrAV1JVDH8DFL5F_IaM1ZnmUHc3Lr94f9ctqwultOSLfea64fB8Qmlu8I2pDuu0s-ClWftLwsWxckolp7yY0Sk44dDb3aANGdmnHqXvasHY-9ZaVXSU3vs/s320/63138_584924794613_2100860027_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin wasn't too grumpy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVlEDfC3sDZojnFhBXfET2FH-avX3JoF888GVYzik00CyR44YQOCK-VhsTOVPC7UQ54s663qnBo9t3zn2ICZvBifyatq-JWplUkkPUyo11Mhh76zcXW9h2N_zTakMCOkugxou_LYEFfEQ/s1600/552329_584925583033_151822951_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVlEDfC3sDZojnFhBXfET2FH-avX3JoF888GVYzik00CyR44YQOCK-VhsTOVPC7UQ54s663qnBo9t3zn2ICZvBifyatq-JWplUkkPUyo11Mhh76zcXW9h2N_zTakMCOkugxou_LYEFfEQ/s320/552329_584925583033_151822951_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Jack isn't too big for me to hold like a baby</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO4sBVP7pexVp7rhjAmzoWbhkpta4yIz_Fe2Vf4g5pAu2Dh6OVhHyc5eTumvOUJLW7eruRZympFe83EA0xAW_eH1PMGfS7KhwkEGfSraH6U2OO7ArWf8Zy7vx_ZQHRj9iY8o6tNJJtSCw/s1600/299360_584909759743_1669158873_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO4sBVP7pexVp7rhjAmzoWbhkpta4yIz_Fe2Vf4g5pAu2Dh6OVhHyc5eTumvOUJLW7eruRZympFe83EA0xAW_eH1PMGfS7KhwkEGfSraH6U2OO7ArWf8Zy7vx_ZQHRj9iY8o6tNJJtSCw/s320/299360_584909759743_1669158873_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And, clearly, he gets his good looks from me.</td></tr>
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This weekend, I got to see my little man's first football game, and then spend some time with the Clark fam (bro Chris, sis-in-law April (and her band!), and not so little man Jack) at Reid's Orchard Apple Fest. It was a complete blast.<br />
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Then, Joel and I spent some quality time together loving on each other (c'mon, people, I mean the PG kind of love) and visiting a beautiful winery. It was a perfect Sunday to do so, and we got a chance to ask the couple who owns the winery all about raising grapes and making wine, in case Joel ever wants to make all my dreams come true by building and opening a winery on the back 40 acres of our land. They would love for us to come back and stay in their bed and breakfast (for free?? Did you say for free??), and talk over dinner more about how we can be wine <strike>drinkers</strike> makers.<br />
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We also met another couple who want us to come back to their parts (Indiana) and have dinner with them, because they think we're the cutest couple ever (because we are).<br />
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Perfect few days, I'll tell you. Tonight, we have our fourth and final debate date. I'm excited.<br />
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And, for your viewing enjoyment, the way I've been spending my free time:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6fx0Xi5bfj7LuookLIqXZmyCOXLevjBHovlnI27YHRIeJPvvo32LiqW7WadnsEQdJ1Egwz0JD8uiXM1RUTWjnAgDULqWbjNiYNBbV7KNobIMAkJevNQMOpsLddBrWv67ek18N7BW_Zs/s1600/IMG_1237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6fx0Xi5bfj7LuookLIqXZmyCOXLevjBHovlnI27YHRIeJPvvo32LiqW7WadnsEQdJ1Egwz0JD8uiXM1RUTWjnAgDULqWbjNiYNBbV7KNobIMAkJevNQMOpsLddBrWv67ek18N7BW_Zs/s320/IMG_1237.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out with this cute baby </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTAt8jBdXKG7251X89gQdpMDWvyH9HzDMOnhf_xe32nCSOh-lsWZEjEecZMsLj9s8F82c_BEc_CuDo0eFamBVnqm4wPoB53K8TjhNRtAgO3oVos4UzF6SDZiPk_pumK0d2wdNT3fOZhE/s1600/IMG_1265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTAt8jBdXKG7251X89gQdpMDWvyH9HzDMOnhf_xe32nCSOh-lsWZEjEecZMsLj9s8F82c_BEc_CuDo0eFamBVnqm4wPoB53K8TjhNRtAgO3oVos4UzF6SDZiPk_pumK0d2wdNT3fOZhE/s320/IMG_1265.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this cuddly guy</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjoAD9bN0feILrcRA9OJv27t52w-_ZT4MxD30EgmH64UW-8LroHZkkouoQj94KYPHdGpsigrPfKQYxKg5sTO6JWaeKwbE056HdNbd0sX2Fg31UB5Zd2phccUKru-jGL5K5FRmkecQfICU/s1600/IMG_1257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjoAD9bN0feILrcRA9OJv27t52w-_ZT4MxD30EgmH64UW-8LroHZkkouoQj94KYPHdGpsigrPfKQYxKg5sTO6JWaeKwbE056HdNbd0sX2Fg31UB5Zd2phccUKru-jGL5K5FRmkecQfICU/s320/IMG_1257.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And, on occasion, both at once.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitdIYG7qdgWJektZiysa_e9sE9J6FIhpKkO5Yqnws8lzJWagrMA3jSWINc48ncYZxMQGZzZvCKcU6sdzq5x18bLe0KKI31a66tuNlzqU5fzxJs88hD-qC9EBL3HKo9g9tb2roWN5lYrVg/s1600/IMG_1213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitdIYG7qdgWJektZiysa_e9sE9J6FIhpKkO5Yqnws8lzJWagrMA3jSWINc48ncYZxMQGZzZvCKcU6sdzq5x18bLe0KKI31a66tuNlzqU5fzxJs88hD-qC9EBL3HKo9g9tb2roWN5lYrVg/s320/IMG_1213.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Generally loving my life</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UbEGKvUyeSPm16ddChxWUIV0aQ6hgOh78Lb66qHlhHLbucAdXu_2RbwTGeoPj5dAmiNRZW60szlpbKG_5b__1FsME17o0xZE39B0Cq1ycdIQUKoulJfXn_ry30a_01pcATfyI_SI6SE/s1600/IMG_1212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UbEGKvUyeSPm16ddChxWUIV0aQ6hgOh78Lb66qHlhHLbucAdXu_2RbwTGeoPj5dAmiNRZW60szlpbKG_5b__1FsME17o0xZE39B0Cq1ycdIQUKoulJfXn_ry30a_01pcATfyI_SI6SE/s320/IMG_1212.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because, have you seen my SO? He's amazing!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMswcsjuz_WE3QJQxYM96DHhCIV7TCK8m1pFNv2SqWxDMwRL0zZp6dcU0z3aUP3xQbZdb4c3p-7rfp7bUv8o67dKqM9yZ3hFZTlr2mJGjenFB8Plu0JAJN8SWdHzhQHFIChiSIUKlDXU/s1600/IMG_1268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMswcsjuz_WE3QJQxYM96DHhCIV7TCK8m1pFNv2SqWxDMwRL0zZp6dcU0z3aUP3xQbZdb4c3p-7rfp7bUv8o67dKqM9yZ3hFZTlr2mJGjenFB8Plu0JAJN8SWdHzhQHFIChiSIUKlDXU/s320/IMG_1268.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even after a big, greasy meal saying, "please don't take a picture. I know it's just going on your blog."<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<br />Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-66742917306633919482012-10-14T13:13:00.001-05:002012-10-14T13:13:48.913-05:00Back on the Bloggin' WagonI'm sure you noticed I haven't been blogging lately. Oh, you didn't? Well, let's pretend you did and cried yourself to sleep each night that I didn't post. <br />
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Good, I feel better already.<br />
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Here's the thing: I had to kind of break up with my blog for a while. I'd love to say that life got busy, and I had to be a grown-up (get it??), and deal with important stuff rather than spend 30 mins to an hour every day sitting in front of the computer trying to think up things to write and attempt to be semi- funny. But that's only partly true. <br />
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The whole truth is that my life hasn't felt very funny lately. It's felt hard. Really hard. I wrote about overcommitment, and then I've talked to almost everyone I know about feeling overwhelmed (good life tip: don't talk about feeling overwhelmed at work. The cheese stands alone). Talking has helped, I guess. But I still, for the past couple of weeks, have felt like every time I turn around I am disappointing someone or failing in some area. And that shit is not funny. It's also not funny that I have had a mini-virus, a full fledged virus, and a someone-shoot-me-in-the-head-please kinda sinus infection all in the last couple of weeks. I've come to the conclusion that the talking about being overwhelmed was not just talk, because my body MADE me shut down for a few days so I didn't die or cry at one more inappropriate time. <br />
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But this weekend has been pretty great so far. I didn't have pressing commitments and have been able to spend some time with myself thinking through the awesome things I've achieved in the past, and how I will do some pretty badass things in the future. I've made it through worse, and I probably will survive even worse things than this rut. So I'm feeling much better.<br />
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I also have taken this opportunity to consider how I want to spend my time. Since it seems that lack of time is the big culprit that sends me into downward spirals, I have to be a better steward of it. I want to spend my time with the people I love most in the world, and first and foremost care for my primary relationship (that's Joel. He's my future, so he deserves the best of me. That doesn't mean that people from my past are less important, so everyone calm down and take a deep breath. I am just a firm believer that your 'person' comes before others, and I intend to act that way). I want to make time for the people who make time for me. As a grown-up friend, I will nurture friendships in which the support door swings both ways. That, in fact, was a 2012 resolution. I can't fret over relationships that, at the end of the day, are more stressful than rewarding. And I want to be really, really good at my job. That doesn't necessarily mean it has to BE my life, but it does have to be an important use of my time. I want to take more time for me. I can't feel guilty about passing on things that will keep me from being in bed around 9:30 or so, because I am simply someone who needs 8 hours of sleep (or maybe 9, sometimes 10). And I will do things for myself like have decompression time, solid time to keep my personal life in order (basically that means I have to make the bed every day, because I'm a little crazier when it's not made), and time to do things I love with people who I enjoy. <br />
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And finally, I want to be more grateful. I want to be grateful for being brave enough to stand up and say 'hey, life has gotten me down, I need a change.' I know it's not funny and it's not very much fun to hear those things, but sometimes they have to be said and dealt with. No one can be happy and fun one hundred percent of the time. I want to be grateful that I feel confident in the life I have chosen. Because I chose it. I am happy living the life of Casi, and not the life that everyone wants/expects/needs Casi to live. This life, although not always a cake walk, makes me incredibly happy. I want to be more grateful for supportive family and friends who give without expecting anything in return, who don't decline my phone calls because they know I'm calling to vent yet again, and who love me and all my crazy glory. I want to be more grateful that I have a job that fulfills me and is solid, important work, despite sometimes being really, really exhausting. And I want to be more grateful that I have a wonderful man in my life who loves me and cares for me even when I wake up in the middle of the night and yell at him because it's too hot, or when I don't clean the litter boxes often enough (I thought we had a deal, dude??), and when I come home from work so upset that I sob and drink wine so furiously and simultaneously that it's clear that I am one big mess. I want to be more grateful that, when it's all said and done, I wouldn't really change a thing. I live a wonderful life, am surrounded by amazing people, do important work, and have someone who will adjust the temperature in our house 70 times a day for me and get up in the middle of the night and scoop cat sh*t because it's making me gag. I am superbly blessed, and it's about damn time I start acting like it.Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-41682454816000093132012-09-30T18:14:00.000-05:002012-09-30T18:14:23.861-05:00Just Call Me Martha Effing StewartHoly shit, you guys, I cannot even describe what's happening to me. Something has come over me that has made me want to be more domestic. I cooked dinner Friday night. ...Pause for reaction... And I cooked dinner again tonight.<br />
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Not only that, but I created two Pinterest projects. (Okay, maybe just one idea, but two final products.)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4u8G3Aq7BQ17YK2IVfWPVynrlKoavhNFtHYOcq-ZftHxnHpwQutwKwNwpq4CIMj8-J_j9h3SH9lhD9wwC_vQb2nsie_RQd214L2qBJzPcp8qFj58Pt-q1f3uvbL7l0kOfdKRzZnCGbYk/s1600/251990541620427220_1PEGawda_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4u8G3Aq7BQ17YK2IVfWPVynrlKoavhNFtHYOcq-ZftHxnHpwQutwKwNwpq4CIMj8-J_j9h3SH9lhD9wwC_vQb2nsie_RQd214L2qBJzPcp8qFj58Pt-q1f3uvbL7l0kOfdKRzZnCGbYk/s320/251990541620427220_1PEGawda_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dry Erase Picture Frames!</td></tr>
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They aren't as fancy as this, but one holds our grocery list, ideas of dinners for the week, and things that need to be done. The other one is small and sits next to our key box where we can write little messages to each other for the day. (Ten bucks says I'm the only one who ever writes on it, and in three weeks, after 20 or so carefully constructed messages, Joel says "what message board??" But, shit, guys, I feel accomplished!)<br />
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I'm beginning to wonder if my new domesticity is coming from the fact that I am working hard at saying no and honoring what I <i>actually</i> want to do rather than what I feel obligated to do. For instance, I have two huge work reports due tomorrow and Tuesday, but rather than using my precious weekend off-time to work on them, I am taking tomorrow morning in the office so that I can get them done on actual work time.<br />
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And, again, maybe it's because I complained about being <a href="http://whatsagrownup.blogspot.com/2012/09/overcommitment-aholic.html">overcommitted</a>, and I have this newfound time where I'm doing what I want, but I have to say that this has been the most perfect weekend. <br />
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I was off on Friday, and I literally did not put on pants all day! Nor did I put on make-up or even bathe. It was amazing. I did, however, make a little chicken dish I thought up in my head. Joel and I both thought it was quite good, and he even got up in the middle of the night and ate all the leftovers, so I call that a cooking f*cking miracle.<br />
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Saturday, I got to catch up with my amazing friends, Trina and Adam, and their sweet little bundle, Levi. We all met up for coffee, and even my grumpy brother, Kevin came. Then immediately after breakfast, I met my mom, stepdad, and grandparents for lunch. I basically bored them with a hundred stories about their grand-dog and grand-kitty. I think at one point, I could see my grandmother spelling out "Please stop talking about your pets like they're children" with her chicken fingers.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I reluctantly love Katniss Everdeen</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I'm obsessed with this guy. I'm not even ashamed.</td></tr>
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Joel and I had a quiet dinner together (that was take-out, I admit it) and had lots of good quality time, and I didn't even have to beg him for it and define exactly what I meant by quality time using graphs and charts like I usually do in a crazy, hysterical voice. Which I'm sure was bliss for him. He really hates my crazy, hysterical voice. </div>
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Today, we have rested and cleaned a bit and enjoyed time outside together. And I made taco soup for dinner. I kind of made up the recipe, so I hope it's good but it smells pretty damn good, and CD and Katniss Everdeen are suddenly my best friends, so they must think it smells pretty damn good too. </div>
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Of course after my perfect weekend, I have a crazy busy work week that involves lots of 5am mornings and one 3am morning. And I work every night this week--YAY!! </div>
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<i>Except</i> Wednesday, because it's the first presidential debate, and Joel and I have a debate date! I'm already trying to think up a hokey meal that's politics-related. I know you love this new domestic Casi. But don't get used to it. Who knows when all of this will fade, and I decide to order pizza for a week straight?<br />
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<br />Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-30647926782173048072012-09-27T16:03:00.001-05:002012-09-27T16:03:32.526-05:00Overcommitment-aholicLately I've been thinking a lot about overcommitment. I have had conversations about it, been listening to audio books about it, and taking note of when I do it and how I feel after.<br />
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The problem seems to be that I want to be the absolute best employee I can possibly be. I want to say yes to every request, I want to be there for anyone who needs help any time any day and anywhere, and I want to figure out a way to work in the car, on the toilet, or in my sleep so that I can get as much done as humanly possible.<br />
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I also want to be the best girlfriend I can possibly be. I want there to never be a dirty dish in the sink or a load of dirty laundry waiting to be done or put away or there never to be a night when I order pizza rather than cook a healthy meal. I want both of the animals to be fed and clean and loved on sufficiently. I want to be fun and exciting at a moment's notice and never have to ask that the trash be taken out or the floor be vaccumed. I never want to be so tired that I can't be understanding and loving.<br />
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I want to be an active member of my extended family. I want to spend time with both of my parents, my grandparents, brothers, and nephew without being asked or reminded or told how long it's been since I've visited. I don't want to miss family reunions and not even realize I did.<br />
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I want to be the friend that everyone can look to for lunches or dinners or drinks or coffees or slumber parties or weekend adventures anytime. I want to be the friend who remembers to send birthday cards and mother's day cards and supportive texts on especially tough or exciting days. I want to be the friend who's there for exciting and life-changing moments. I want to be the friend that my friends say, "you're always there," or "I knew I could count on you," or "I always have so much fun with you," and never "I miss you," or "it feels like years since I've seen you," or "where have you been?"<br />
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I want to give my time freely and without thought. I want to not have to look at the clock when I'm spending time with people and imagine how many minutes have passed that could have been used responding to emails or grocery shopping or cleaning something. I want to not avoid answering a phone call, because I know that I can't hang out or chat or give another presentation or make time for just one more family who needs one-on-one help. I want to drive the speed limit instead of rushing to get to an appointment on time or rushing to get home because I have 100 things to do before I go to bed. I want to read without falling asleep and write without forgetting to add pictures to my blog for two weeks, because I don't have the extra 15 minutes to organize them. I want to lie in bed for an extra ten minutes. I want to stay home and snuggle for an extra hour. I want to not have to say "I have to hang up now, I'm trying to carry in groceries."<br />
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And because of this, I overcommit. I say yes to everything or imagine that I can be there for everything. I book my calendar so tight that I have no free time for months. And I have to stop. In the end, I always seem to disappoint someone by canceling or rescheduling or not showing up. I have to learn to say "I'm sorry, I can't," or "no, thank you," or "that doesn't fit into my schedule." I have to admit I can't do it all and be it all to everyone. I had a massive breakdown Saturday night after an especially long, exciting, emotionally-taxing weekend. And with that, I began to cancel and reschedule things I'd committed to doing this week. I hate it, and it's hard, and it makes me want to cry thinking I might let someone down. But part of being a grown-up is realizing when you're overcommitting and learning how to stop. So here's my effort. I'll let you know how it goes.Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-76958990059128592072012-09-24T15:24:00.000-05:002012-09-24T15:24:47.731-05:00100 Things Before 30: 20 Things I'm Proud I Did in my 20's With my on-going project of 100 Things I Want to Do Before 30, I have compiled a list of the things I'm really proud to say I've already done!<br />
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<b>1. Travel outside of the country. </b>In 2008, I went out of the country for the first time. It was crazy to think I'd made it to 25 and not left the country. But then I waited another four years to leave again. I have been to both Mexico and Costa Rica and look forward to many, many more trips out of the country. In fact, I believe we'll be taking one for my 30th birthday.<br />
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<b>2. Recognize that the grass always <i>seems</i> greener on the other side, but rarely is</b>. This was a hard lesson to learn, and I still have to remind myself to live my life with this in mind. It's easy to think that you want what someone else has or even what <i>everybody </i>else has, but chances are good, they have complaints and wishes for greener grass as well.<br />
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<b>3. Learn how to grocery shop.</b> Not only can I do this, but I can do this like a mother f*cker.<br />
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<b>4. Find a career you love.</b> I somehow lucked into the career I have. I never imagined myself being in higher education or outreach, but after my very first professional job in college admissions, I was in love. And the passion has been blazing since.<br />
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<b>5. Beware of credit cards. </b>I have heard many a horror story about credit card debt and the pitfalls of it. My family never really used credit cards, so in my mind, it was never really an option. While I may wear my debit card out, I will never scan a credit card.<br />
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<b>6. Be in a relationship with a purpose.</b> This may sound silly, but so many of my past romantic relationships were purposeless. They may have felt purposeful, but looking back, my emotional wheels were spinning but not getting me anywhere. I finally feel happy and secure in a relationship that fits me.<br />
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<b>7. Start a blog.</b> Done and done.<br />
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<b>8. Live on your own.</b> When I was 21 years old, I moved into my first grown-up apartment. I did move back in with my mom for two months in 2008 to get back on my feet after a bad break-up. But I quickly got back up on those feet and lived on my own--all alone--until January 2012 when I moved in with Joel. But that totals 7 years of living on my own, most of those all alone. I have no doubts that I can make it on my own, stand on my own two feet, and be the independent goddess I can be.<br />
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<b>9. Dine alone. </b>I know lots of people who have never done this, but I, in the past, made an art of it. I worked in a career where I traveled alone most of the time for several years. In this time, I loved getting dressed up, going to dinner, sitting at the bar and having a drink...all alone. It gives me time to think, a chance to people watch, and honestly, makes me feel ultra glamorous.<br />
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<b>10. Pay all my own bills.</b> This goes with the living alone, but I started paying all of my own bills when I was 19 years old. There have been times I've been in some tough spots, and there have been times I've had to ask for help from some wonderful people in my life, and there have been times when I've just had to figure it out. But I have done it and still do and am extremely proud of that.<br />
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<b>11. Ask out a crush</b>. I remember when I was single and was interested in someone who wasn't asking me out, most of my friends would tell me to lay low, send subliminal messages, but never ask him out. But then one guy came along that I simply couldn't be coy with. And so I bit the bullet and asked him out. And over a year later, he realizes that was the best thing that could ever happen to him (or at least he freaking better).<br />
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<b>12. Quit a job that wasn't right for me. </b>I took a job in my early 20's and although I thought I wanted the job, and I thought it would make me happy, it didn't. It made me miserable. So I made a hard choice and didn't look back. And although it was scary at the time, it worked out for the best.<br />
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<b>13. Do something everyone thought I shouldn't.</b> Maybe not everyone, but lots of people thought I shouldn't move home in 2008. I had lived in Lexington for 7 years and had a pretty good life there. But I was yearning for a life in Owensboro. I wasn't close to my family (proximity-wise), and I was missing my nephew and three little brothers grow up. I took a lot of crap for making that decision, but I'm so happy I made it.<br />
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<b>14. Move away from home.</b> Again, I lived in Lexington for 7 years, and I'm so happy I was able to experience life outside of Owensboro. It was different and great and gave me memories to last a lifetime.<br />
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<b>15. Move back home.</b> Because it was absolutely right for me.<br />
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<b>16. Fall in love.</b> I have fallen in love, out of love, and stayed happily in love. It is the best feeling in the whole world and sometimes it can evoke the worst feelings in the whole world, but I am thankful for my experiences in love, and I can't wait to keep building on this certain love story that has my heart.<br />
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<b>17. Opened my heart to someone.</b> In my earlier 20's, I thought I wanted a bad boy. I mistook lust for love. I hurt people. I got hurt. I sabotaged perfectly good relationships. I waited around for people who weren't worth it. I let love get away. But through it, I learned that opening your heart doesn't always end in walking away with pieces missing. It can mean something new and wonderful and life-changing. And that's something I can get on board with.<br />
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<b>18. Accept the things in my past so I can move forward.</b> Big things have happened in my life that have broken me. Things that I thought I'd never get over or learn to deal with. As I have gotten older, however, I've learned to accept that those things are part of the journey that's leading me in the direction of happiness and wholeness.<br />
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<b>19. Forgive someone.</b> With the stories in my life that are full of pain and brokenness, there have been people along the way who hurt me or disappointed me or broke my heart. I have forgiven all of those people. Some of them are still in my life, some of them are no longer, but they are all forgiven in my book.<br />
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<b>20. Forgive myself.</b> I've made some pretty terrible decisions in my life. I've done things I'm not proud of. I've allowed myself to be in and stay in bad and even dangerous situations. For a long time, I didn't believe that I could keep myself safe or allow myself to be in healthy relationships. I was angry at myself for that. But in growing up and working through past mistakes, I have learned that I, too, am human and if I can forgive other people, I can forgive myself as well.<br />
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Keep checking back for my list 100 Things I Want to Do Before 30 and see how I'm making progress on the list!!Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-60438681624557660612012-09-23T14:40:00.001-05:002012-09-23T14:40:15.011-05:00100 Things Before 30 List: 10 Things I Would Never AddSo I've been working on a blog project I'm really excited about where I'm identifying 100 (okay, it's actually shaping up to be 110) things I am going to do before I'm 30 and try to complete them all before the big day. I have spent the last week compiling my list, and for that, I did <s>some</s> extensive research on the internet of other people's suggestions. With that, I came across a few things I would <i>never </i>add to my list. And because you're dying to know, here they are:<br />
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<b>1. Do unacceptable things to your hair.</b> At first, I added this to my list. Then I started thinking about my job, my fear of having bad hair, and my commitment to high fashion (which also sometimes includes not putting on clothes all day or wearing the same yoga pants for an entire week). Suddenly, I panicked and marked it off my list. Maybe had I started my list when I was 22 or 17 or, oh, f*ck it, I would have <i>never</i> done unacceptable things to my hair. (Except for maybe not wash it for four straight days--which I do often.)<br />
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<b>2. Savor the hangovers of your 20's. </b>This is not going on the list because I absolutely hate hangovers with a fiery passion. So much so that I will sometimes sacrifice a little extra fun in an effort to avoid hangovers (crazy, I know). I have had more than my fair share of hangovers, and so now I would never again willingly sign up for one. Call me a grandma, that's cool. I'll call you the morning after drinking and sing you a song, since I won't be hungover.<br />
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<b>3. Go to Vegas. </b>I don't know why, but this is just not my cup of tea. Lots of people get super pumped about going to Vegas and go often and love it. I have not even an ounce of desire to go. This is what Vegas has to offer: alcohol. I have that at home. Big boobs: I don't have them myself and do not care to see them. Gambling: No, thank you. I prefer to, instead of taking $200 and trying to turn it into $400, take $200 and try to turn it into three or four new outfits for me! Sorry, Vegas, you didn't make the cut.<br />
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<b>4. Run a marathon. </b>Simple, I'd like to actually <i>complete</i> the things on the list.<br />
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<b>5. Buy a house. </b>Lots of people recommended adding this to your pre-30 brag points. This will not be going on my list because we already have a place to live. In fact, we have three.<br />
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<b>6. Get purposefully sunburned</b>. Recently on our trip to Orlando, I covered my powder white skin in SPF 100. Not only is getting sunburned uncomfortable and painful, but it is dangerous. I have been through the phases of laying out with baby oil on, going to the tanning bed daily, and dealing with the inevitable result of sun poisoning. I'll keep my milky-whiteness and my skin cancer-free body.<br />
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<b>7. Own a convertible. </b>Have you seen my hair after getting out of a convertible? Two words: rat's nest. Will never happen.<br />
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<b>8. Bungee jump. </b>Everyone says to add this to my list. I say they are crazy cakes.<br />
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<b>9. Do something ridiculous like quit my job just to say I did it. </b>Part of being in your late 20's is realizing how to be responsible when you need to be. I don't want to add anything to this list that would jeopardize the things I've worked hard to build. I'll be keeping my home, job, SO, and all other important things throughout this process.<br />
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1<b>0. Move away to live somewhere else</b>. I have lived in another city in my lifetime, and it was an amazing experience that I will always cherish. But now, Owensboro is the place for me. It fits my lifestyle, and my job and loved ones are here. I will continue to travel, but I'm fairly sure that my roots will continue to spread in the good 'ole city of Owensboro, KY.<br />
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Keep checking back to see the 20 Things I'm Proud I Did in My 20's, the 100 Things I Want to Do Before 30, and the results as I work through the list!Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-53592869973887138992012-09-21T15:49:00.001-05:002012-09-21T23:48:53.576-05:00Flashback FridayBecause I have been posting vacation memories this week from last week, you loyal readers have no idea what I've been doing this week. (And I know it's keeping you up at night.) Frankly, I'm so busy that<i> I</i> don't even know what I've been doing this week, but I'm going to try to recall some of the highlights.<br />
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<b>I have a wine-induced injury.</b> Not even lying. <a href="http://whatsagrownup.blogspot.com/2012/09/everything-i-need-to-know-i-learned.html">You know I went to the wine festival on Saturday night</a> and bought several bottles of wine. Well, I purchased a few too many to fit in my handy-dandy wine-carrier that one of the booths gave me, so I was using my purse as a make-shift wine carrier. At one point in the night, I bent over to pick something up and a bottle of wine came rocketing out of my purse and jammed into my elbow. Which luckily broke the fall to the ground, so the wine was salvaged. My elbow was not. I was convinced it was broken for two full days. Joel says broken and "has a bruise" aren't the same. Whatever, it's totally broken. Or chipped. Or something.<br />
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<b>I had a cancellation at work on Tuesday, and I actually got to take a nap.</b> It was the best day of my life. Joel was kind enough to recommend I take a nap every day this week, but I told him if I did, we'd have to go to work naked and hungry every day.<br />
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<b>I caught up with great friends this week!</b> On Monday, my life-long friend Connie Beth (who just moved back to Owensboro) and my hair expert/very good friend Leslie, and I all went to have drinks and appetizers at a great place called Niko's. It was so much, and I absolutely love getting my friends who don't know each other together, because then we can all be friends! Speaking of, I got to see my very good friend, Brandi and my very good friend/coworker Shelley on Wednesday, and we had lunch at the Bistro with my other very good friend who just moved back to Owensboro, Ashley. I haven't laughed as hard as I did at that lunch in a very long time. In my dream life, I could have lunches like that every day.<br />
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<b>I got to see DEE!!! </b>Girls and boys, my sweet preg has been so busy lately because she has welcomed a German exchange student into her home and she has a one year old and our jobs are crazy cakes. But we both had a sliver of time today to grab lunch and tell each other how much we love each other. It made my whole week!! (And I totally think she should start blogging about having a GES, and we should all read it!!! Hint, hint, Dee!!)<br />
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<b>We may have a new addition to our family.</b> And when I say "may," I mean most certainly. <a href="http://whatsagrownup.blogspot.com/2012/07/because-im-white-and-nerdy.html">Remember when Em moved away and my soft-hearted SO agreed to keep her stray kitty at the farm? </a><br />
Well, I will be completely honest with you for a moment. After she dropped the cat off, we never saw it again. We had resigned ourselves to the fact that it had been eaten by a coyote or something equally as tragic. I poured a bit of wine out for my fallen homie and moved on. But a few nights ago, we saw something stirring in the bushes, and I will be damned if it wasn't that cat. Joel got it food and water, and I convinced myself that I could touch and hold this kitty who hates people. Joel kept telling me this would never happen, but after about 45 minutes, she came into my arms and started calling me her mommy. We held her a bit while Joel made bets with his friends about whether or not I would bring this cat home to live with us. I kept telling him no amount of love justifies a litter box and that this thing could brave the storm at the farm (I mean she already did for almost two months). But within the hour, <i>he </i>had convinced <i>me</i> to bring this thing home. Now we sort of love her. All of us but CD. He's pissed. And she hates him. And they are in constant competition for eating each other's food. So I've played referee all afternoon between these two, but currently we're at peace, so here's hoping. Here's also hoping this sweet kitty learns to use the litter box and that Joel learns to clean it.<br />
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<b>Our sweet kitty turned into an attack kitty. </b>So, we were calling the cat Essie. Because originally we named her Shack Cat, but I said I wasn't going to go around calling for "Shack Cat," so we abbreviated to SC. If you say that fast, it's Essie. However, once our sweet little love started coming around and getting super used to her new family, we spotted a flea on her and decided to spray her with a touch of kitty flea spray. Now, her name is Katniss Everdeen because that bitch is a fighter. She scratched us and bit us and otherwise kicked the asses of two humans, despite the fact that she can't weigh more than two pounds. So we have been nursing our wounds today. I am convinced that I have cat scratch fever and that my finger is going to fall off, but both Joel and Grannie Annie keep assuring me that's not the case. Joel's hands look like a tiny vampire tried to eat them from all the fang marks and my finger is hanging half off (no exaggeration. Okay, maybe a little exaggeration.) I'd include pictures but I'm afraid if I keep typing and playing on the computer, the shred of skin that's holding on my middle finger will break and I'll bleed to death. Katniss Everdeen went to the vet today, and she's a healthy little bugger, but we will have to keep an eye on her to make sure she--and we--don't have rabies.<br />
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Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go nurse my wounds and hope that Katniss Everdeen doesn't start foaming at the mouth or go into attack kitty mode again. Wonder what a good dose of wine does to kittens?<br />
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Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-43755802296564753122012-09-20T14:40:00.000-05:002012-09-20T14:40:59.663-05:00Wednesdays are also for Reflection<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Last week, we were on vacation. These are postings in "real-time" And by, "real-time," I mean one week ago today. </span><br />
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It's Wednesday night on vacation and here's what you've missed:<br />
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We were getting ready for dinner last night, and I commented on how shitty my hair looks in Florida. I didn't even bother to bring my straightener, but it's so frizzy and gross that it won't even curl properly. So Joel says, "I'll fix it." And proceeded to COMB MY CURLY HAIR. Curly hair girls of the world, you feel my pain. I, trying to be a nice, patient girlfriend, let him comb away, then immediately downed two glasses of wine to help ignore the fact that I had <i>combed </i>curly hair, and I was actually taking that shit out in public. When I saw the final product, I must admit, it didn't look horrible. But I was also half-drunk.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyoSChC-sERBDPikquvfvuq3NTSrsJxGwyIcYeZ1vfO1IzcN8-W_-7UmVfFkZLN5Fvgm60cbMQLJw1EzmPQ33pyR7l_deXWVmQsWc-O0cpoFcLwCrE2xQduzJcufxZ-Up-fXJlb5FvDMY/s1600/IMG_0996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyoSChC-sERBDPikquvfvuq3NTSrsJxGwyIcYeZ1vfO1IzcN8-W_-7UmVfFkZLN5Fvgm60cbMQLJw1EzmPQ33pyR7l_deXWVmQsWc-O0cpoFcLwCrE2xQduzJcufxZ-Up-fXJlb5FvDMY/s320/IMG_0996.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I decided I still love him</td></tr>
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Then we had dinner in Downtown Disney, at Fulton's, and by the time we left, we were both covered in lobster juice and butter, but it was oh-so-amazing. And we saw LegoLand, which made me miss my little man and wish he was here with us. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyLIGACAORariQFHepJbYXehLSpek8_wV3DhU7QDVPD-0odtBerEVf8Ct35Th-i-_c5aAbw50mutkLzwh6vPIsl7-fsLq1HGfdTx00R3nsnUcc3ZofseiGgZZx6c3Y0HJ11cTyxEA6OY/s1600/IMG_1001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyLIGACAORariQFHepJbYXehLSpek8_wV3DhU7QDVPD-0odtBerEVf8Ct35Th-i-_c5aAbw50mutkLzwh6vPIsl7-fsLq1HGfdTx00R3nsnUcc3ZofseiGgZZx6c3Y0HJ11cTyxEA6OY/s320/IMG_1001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LEGOS!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rEoZtFSJOzDQjKhWeuInBjzb4fdnn7pS18Yln7YWBl8c8Bp81GNCq_9NnoFa0069krU_8VF_vvwvIP3n49cOYHJAZqlMDbZU3z2r5kyADRkp2U0pvHSHoWVqXTo2cSYS2BE6UdYw9zg/s1600/IMG_1005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rEoZtFSJOzDQjKhWeuInBjzb4fdnn7pS18Yln7YWBl8c8Bp81GNCq_9NnoFa0069krU_8VF_vvwvIP3n49cOYHJAZqlMDbZU3z2r5kyADRkp2U0pvHSHoWVqXTo2cSYS2BE6UdYw9zg/s320/IMG_1005.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We argued over whether this was a T Rex. I won.</td></tr>
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I've also been missing CD so much and saying every morning and every night how we should have snuck him on the plane with us.<br />
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We watched a few minutes of what could only be a Mexican Home Makeover show, and we argued about whether what was being shown was the before or after, because there's no way people were crying over some flowered-up wall paper and Wal-Mart comforters, unless they were tears of "oh, shit, what have they done to my home?" But, alas, Joel was right, and it was the 'after' that they were showing. Wowza.<br />
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By this morning after the presentation, I was drinking wine straight from the bottle. I mean, it's vacation, and I get to, so why not. Then I went to yoga, and it was every bit of amazing. If that woman taught classes in Owensboro, I would pay whatever it cost to be her student. I felt amazing, stretched out, and super calm when I finished.<br />
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Which was good, because some type of f*cking mosquito/bird/bat-type thing bit me all over my arms, and now I have the f*cking West Nile Virus. These are like seriously huge, itchy painful bites, and I am probably dying as I type this. (UPDATE: They are still there. I absolutely have the West Nile Virus.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhnOrD-5-oD_nU9xW-Z0PQE0vrDBD6VfWE4Jz1hdi6zCRchFcLujKhSsW8JGEDiZwhNflSgaEsA0wIfCKr-kvCcs37mlHe05c6IntLpw1zTKi_F_LmxHWHxCNL5CgsElyyOkvWU38GN0/s1600/IMG_1009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhnOrD-5-oD_nU9xW-Z0PQE0vrDBD6VfWE4Jz1hdi6zCRchFcLujKhSsW8JGEDiZwhNflSgaEsA0wIfCKr-kvCcs37mlHe05c6IntLpw1zTKi_F_LmxHWHxCNL5CgsElyyOkvWU38GN0/s320/IMG_1009.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">West Nile Exhibit A</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzwo1v8B34F0flFgTux0P_law9psA-077kZiJzar4ifIZVtYzDer9F8fP67xpwLu9dfGTEeWKAvlEXX_C9WTzfknnkLkbodFO3nDH2FptYgvNYw-GZFJnjogqeUG3NA82266wSfVph8I/s1600/IMG_1010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzwo1v8B34F0flFgTux0P_law9psA-077kZiJzar4ifIZVtYzDer9F8fP67xpwLu9dfGTEeWKAvlEXX_C9WTzfknnkLkbodFO3nDH2FptYgvNYw-GZFJnjogqeUG3NA82266wSfVph8I/s320/IMG_1010.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">West Nile Exhibit B</td></tr>
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Tonight, we had dinner at an amazing restaurant called Big Fin. I had raw oysters, which I love. We shared crab legs, which Joel cracks and peels while I eat, and we split a delicious crab/grouper dish that I barely touched, because it was served with mashed potatoes that I drank with a straw. And because we're on vacation, Joel tested the $21 whisky, and we split a shot of vodka with an oyster in it (not worth $17).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTEBtrpD388wuk3e3qLJ9q7_SVg4cNjru8jJFwfSsTuDiEibIwTozakHoimcT_vwJCOsQls-OureDqffhPLiqzYT1NzhHYqMQFSy86KCpVkbTBBHslZbCaE5Ofs2o6AJ0vMOTlKeG2Oo/s1600/IMG_1018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTEBtrpD388wuk3e3qLJ9q7_SVg4cNjru8jJFwfSsTuDiEibIwTozakHoimcT_vwJCOsQls-OureDqffhPLiqzYT1NzhHYqMQFSy86KCpVkbTBBHslZbCaE5Ofs2o6AJ0vMOTlKeG2Oo/s320/IMG_1018.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making peace with my Florida hair</td></tr>
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We leave tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn, and I'm actually really sad. Not just because this vacation wasn't long enough, but also because I'll miss feeling extravagant and exciting in Orlando, when we go back to our nights of evening news and noodle-less lasagna straight from the casserole dish.<br />
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Dose of Perspective: We just talked about it, and although we had a great time here, we agree that we have a pretty incredible life back home. We're so blessed and so surrounded by love in our home that every day feels a little bit like vacation.<br />
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And best of all, at home, we have a big furry dog to share it with.<br />
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Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-69193269043331847972012-09-19T16:11:00.000-05:002012-09-19T16:32:31.509-05:00Wednesdays are for Just Say No<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Last week, we were on vacation. These are postings in "real-time" And by, "real-time," I mean one week ago today. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">So apparently it's Wednesday but I can't be bothered with knowing that because I'm on vacation, bitches!! But there are <i>few</i> things in life that don't require work, so of course I had to do a bit of that this morning. Here's the deal:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">I cannot say enough good things about our amazing resort/suite. It is beautiful, comfortable, huge, luxurious, friendly, etc etc. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">We got it dirt cheap. I didn't really get why, but then we checked in and I noticed a) It's a handicap room. Guess what? That's actually <i>more valuable</i> to me, because I particularly enjoy sitting down while showering and allowing my belly button to look out the peep hole. B) We're across the way from some serious construction. Again, I get the last laugh, because we just turn the TV up louder or the air conditioning up higher so we drown out the sounds of hammering. C) They try to sell you a time share. Not even kidding, they are serious about this shit. They called five times in two days to schedule a complimentary breakfast/meeting with us and give us a welcome gift. I will tell you this: The welcome gift was a travel size shampoo, ten percent off a seafood place we were interested in, and a coupon book to the outlets that probably did legitimately save me quite a bit of money, because I spent my entire savings at the outlet mall.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">So Joel tells me since he's doing the conference thing and our time outside of that is precious (damn sweet talker), I should go to the presentation by myself and see what's up. After I cussed at him, I decided this was actually a good idea, because I could claim that I don't make financial decisions without my life partner (we won't tell them about yesterday's shopping decisions made solo) and have an out from their sales pitch. So I get up at an unnecessary hour on vacation and go to the breakfast. I had convinced myself that bacon, eggs, and biscuits would be worth every second until I showed up and realized the breakfast was some damn stale muffins and bad coffee. Already pissed off, I met my sales agent. Honestly, I loved her. She gave me her cell number later in the meeting to call her if Joel and I decided to sign on, and I kind of want to use it to call her just to hang out. She was very low pressure and just gave me the bottom line and how to get the best deal for the money. She understood I couldn't make a decision without Joel and gave me her number to call if we decided to buy. I thought that was it, and I was happy. But then she passed me off to a processor who wasn't as friendly or laid back and acted super pissed off when I said no to a lesser package she was trying to sell me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">As a final kick, they give you a thank you gift for <strike>putting up with their shit</strike> your time. They let you choose between signing up for their point program and getting the equivalent to one night free hotel stay or $75 cash. They tell you how stupid you'd be to choose the cash, because the hotel stay is much more expensive, and then try to sell you a point package. I assured them that I was, in fact, stupid and <i>wanted my cash.</i> After they act all pissed off and condescending that you've made such a dumb choice, they make you go visit three other people who also try to convince you of your idiocy for taking the money instead of the point program. They all told me it was a bad decision, and I assured them that I make lots of bad decisions and am really quite good at it. I also told them really <i>they </i>were idiots for not realizing I had a firm grasp on my own stupidity and try to flaunt it whenever I can, especially when it comes to monetary matters. But, an hour and a half later, I had a cool $75 in my fist simply for listening to people tell me how dumb I was. Who's dumb now, assholes? I'll think of you while I'm killing even more brain cells with the wine I plan to buy with this moola. In your salesperson faces!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Also, today, I'm linking up with Rachel again for<a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=%22http://www.littlepetrie.com/search/label/wonderfulwednesday%22%3E%20%3Cimg%20src=%22http://i45.tinypic.com/2cwpkk9.jpg%22%20%20border=%220%22%20/%3E%3C/a%3E"> Wonderful Wednesdays</a>! Head on over and check her out!!</span><br />
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<a href="http://lalalists.com/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" title="lala Lists"><img alt="lala Lists" src="http://i1061.photobucket.com/albums/t479/rafel33/200x100-1.jpg" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://www.littlepetrie.com/search/label/wonderfulwednesday"> <img border="0" src="http://i45.tinypic.com/2cwpkk9.jpg" /></a>
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<br />Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-25121696933088417192012-09-18T13:27:00.000-05:002012-09-18T13:27:43.714-05:00Tuesdays are for Shopping<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Last week, we were on vacation. These are postings in "real-time" And by, "real-time," I mean one week ago today. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">In VacationLand, it's Tuesday, so I'll catch you up on what we've been doing that I<a href="http://whatsagrownup.blogspot.com/2012/09/mondays-are-for-mini-meltdowns-even-on.html"> haven't already mentioned. </a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Sunday was our one-year anniversary and after packing frantically, taking CD to the babysitter (aka His Grandpa (aka Joel's Dad) ), and driving to Nashville, we went out for a mini anniversary celebration at our new favorite spot, Bar Louie. We were exhausted, and in fact, ready to go to bed by 6pm, but decided to have a few drinks and enjoy each other's company before heading out for vacation. It was awesome, and we had a great time and took a super cute picture of ourselves on Joel's phone. But he refused to send it to me, because "you're gonna put it on your blog, aren't you." So you get no picture of that night. (Note to self: take that shit with our own phone.)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Monday, our flight was delayed so we decided to commence the celebration with beer and mimosas for breakfast. Everyone at Max and Erma's loved my idea of making mimosas with pineapple juice instead of orange juice, and I don't want to brag, but I'm somewhat famous in the Cincinnati area now. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Because of our mimosa adventure, we got into a bit of a hurry and needed to use the moving walkway. I have never been on one of these, because it's stupid and simply I'm not coordinated enough to handle it. Joel made me suck it up and get on the damn walkway, and it jarred me so much that I may have pulled a muscle in my lower back. I also looked a bit like a drunk toddler on them and people stared. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Then on the plane, I had to go to the bathroom so freaking bad that I started to hum aloud one long, constant note to keep myself from pissing my pants. There was a long, steady stream of people jumping up and going into the bathroom before I could get back there. I find it hardly fair that one frantic-looking lady got to use the facilities 16 times (I counted) during the flight, and I couldn't even go <i>once</i>. Then, when the plane was stopped and everyone was standing in the aisle waiting to get off, Joel encouraged me to "just go now." I got back there, took one look at the toilet, and couldn't pee for the rest of the day. I'm not even kidding. I don't know why my body hates me. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">When we got to the car rental place, we got to rent an ELECTRIC CAR!!! Seriously, for dirt cheap. $180 got us a Nissan Leaf for three whole days, and we did not have to pay a cent in gas. It was awesome. I predict we will own an electric car within the year. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBfEKEQwFWwOGbFYwsbf_wpfunFoawx1brhOSO9FXG-NbE19NB2KchhxpMz1OR2GH3rR9LIGW-ujm9l6uFqGyIJpT5nxP_Re9CqDe4mF2jTqONUehG9HBssQYrasUDr1zYl03RVr9oQc/s1600/IMG_0981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBfEKEQwFWwOGbFYwsbf_wpfunFoawx1brhOSO9FXG-NbE19NB2KchhxpMz1OR2GH3rR9LIGW-ujm9l6uFqGyIJpT5nxP_Re9CqDe4mF2jTqONUehG9HBssQYrasUDr1zYl03RVr9oQc/s320/IMG_0981.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LOVED this car</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">We decided to have an early dinner on the resort, since we were both tired from being up since 4am and had buffalo calamari, Shock Top beer (MMMMM), and fajitas for dinner. Our server, Enrique gave us great tips of where to eat for the rest of the trip.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdaebOPy3uLPr9wV-nUe7hkv0KQdV-2qkO_2Whz5gyrwNUIRgrKN0vLZJUmqom3K9LB83vDHq0XIjmnF7usRY1jqZYb6mdhkLU8IoWqlOqZS4OTW2BtNS0-2ydwM5mf4mkdq5evAvhF0Q/s1600/IMG_0986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdaebOPy3uLPr9wV-nUe7hkv0KQdV-2qkO_2Whz5gyrwNUIRgrKN0vLZJUmqom3K9LB83vDHq0XIjmnF7usRY1jqZYb6mdhkLU8IoWqlOqZS4OTW2BtNS0-2ydwM5mf4mkdq5evAvhF0Q/s320/IMG_0986.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See what happens when I take photos on my phone?!?</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Sometimes on trips, my colon decides to blockade itself so that I can't go to the bathroom the whole time I'm traveling. Sometimes, it panics and releases everything in it. This trip, it was the latter. Our bathroom at home is far from the bed, and we can't hear each other doing our business over the TV and fan. It is wonderful. This was not the case last night, as I was letting out a symphony of lovely sounds, trying to hold it in, making it even worse and louder, while Joel listened outside the door. Even though it's been a year and we've seen all sides of each other, I still can't let him see <i>that side</i> of me. So, when it's all done, I come out sheepishly and say "sowwy, honey." "Huh?" he replies, "I didn't hear anything." What. A. Gentleman.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLakPnehG-LRFeeHN4tFNZ1YNcB-R8yWlHgzH22vefV3EriXMSODga51NBd4i1wtQvVOgXzqn9chhn9VD27ZZlm5SfWeG9uBb6dECI7AzwXjUIzsf_PytZ_ap1zM_CGzRHsM18_Q1_A60/s1600/IMG_0988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLakPnehG-LRFeeHN4tFNZ1YNcB-R8yWlHgzH22vefV3EriXMSODga51NBd4i1wtQvVOgXzqn9chhn9VD27ZZlm5SfWeG9uBb6dECI7AzwXjUIzsf_PytZ_ap1zM_CGzRHsM18_Q1_A60/s320/IMG_0988.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner at the resort</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI5WE3cHIvunUEPbeG-oWjheLL9Y8gNqDf-XMrFEQKjwLmqkQPvR7-PMSFSx9WOVPp3Iqn1D2SdUYDJpBU1dWkdwqJpDY0Xe9KdjZnSwMoUCwRlaWQXup__peVDcCIkdIKjqwiwO4XMQ/s1600/IMG_0987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI5WE3cHIvunUEPbeG-oWjheLL9Y8gNqDf-XMrFEQKjwLmqkQPvR7-PMSFSx9WOVPp3Iqn1D2SdUYDJpBU1dWkdwqJpDY0Xe9KdjZnSwMoUCwRlaWQXup__peVDcCIkdIKjqwiwO4XMQ/s320/IMG_0987.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All dressed for dinner</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Later, we were watching TV and came across an old episode of Full House. I confessed to him that growing up I was head over heels in love with Uncle Jessie. He says, "that fat guy on Dukes of Hazard?" Total generational moment.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Today, I got up and commenced with the shopping I have been longing for. Three hours, several bags, one cab ride home, and fist of money later, I have no idea how we're going to get all this shit home. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Here's the breakdown. These were outlet malls, so I purchased: </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjVlfoQAo_-Z69Ft97HnIclXA2GqCk4LTOJq0bNg52S8wHamCiILiw9SJ9ndCp1T5pKlUhIZMlYOZm7BcCX1aaYU4RQ9R_O2gKHARLQWdFl4y2J_5lpZ9oqXlkhGWhlfap3Om37M4S7Q/s1600/IMG_0991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjVlfoQAo_-Z69Ft97HnIclXA2GqCk4LTOJq0bNg52S8wHamCiILiw9SJ9ndCp1T5pKlUhIZMlYOZm7BcCX1aaYU4RQ9R_O2gKHARLQWdFl4y2J_5lpZ9oqXlkhGWhlfap3Om37M4S7Q/s320/IMG_0991.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The LOOT</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">For Him: 4 button down shirts, 6 t-shirts, polos, or long-sleeve, 1 pr jeans, and 2 Columbia jackets (one winter/one rain). </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">For Her: 9 shirts, 1 sweater, 1 cardigan, 3 dresses, 1 pr DKNY jeans, and 2 Columbia jackets (one winter/one rain). </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">What it would have been if not on sale: $1,385.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">What is was because I'm an amazing shopper: $640.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">It was amazing and although I had to transfer money from savings twice and call BB&T and ask them to please turn my f*cking credit card back on (again), we now have fall wardrobes. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Currently I'm writing at the pool outside our room. Here's a shot of it:</span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQMAT19JjCx9R0agf_px65Tjl2Jj9xgYb1CrYXh0ooigirWWTUzHS_-jAq_y24olzQ857tmOE1wH6sIxAN8RAdo4USjwJu673A9jdNV_fSCRNvTHljLfN0M558JRG82RoOB4WFJsleek/s1600/IMG_0995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQMAT19JjCx9R0agf_px65Tjl2Jj9xgYb1CrYXh0ooigirWWTUzHS_-jAq_y24olzQ857tmOE1wH6sIxAN8RAdo4USjwJu673A9jdNV_fSCRNvTHljLfN0M558JRG82RoOB4WFJsleek/s320/IMG_0995.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When you're on vacation, you have time to paint all ten!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Stay tuned for more vacation fun!</span>Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-62028987089674777802012-09-17T12:28:00.000-05:002012-09-17T12:28:42.011-05:00Mondays are for Mini Meltdowns, Even on Vacation<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Last week, we were on vacation. These are postings in "real-time" And by, "real-time," I mean one week ago today. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">This weekend was quite interesting because, as usual, I had booked myself so tight that I could barely stop to glance in the mirror to see how big my stress-induced Mt Vesuvius zit on my forehead had gotten. Saturday was tons of fun because I was able to take my sweet, pint sized man (that's Jaxon. Joel is 6'1, that hardly counts as pint-sized) to a <a href="http://whatsagrownup.blogspot.com/2012/09/dont-call-it-comeback.html">cool festival Owensboro had and throw a mini bday party for him since we'd be missing his party on Sunday.</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">The day was great, but at the end of it I had a mini meltdown because I always feel so exhausted and pressed for time and can never call people back or return emails or visit people the way I'd like to and despite getting to do fun things, I wasn't able to do the have-to things to prepare for our trip, which meant rushing around Sunday morning and forgetting important things like our unlimited trolley passes for Orlando.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">On the car ride home Saturday night, I was confessing to Joel how tired and stressed I am and have been and will be from now until the minute I die an early death because that's what being so stressed all the time does to an otherwise healthy heart, and I just lost my shit. I started crying and talking about childhood traumas and random things like being forced to go to Florida and show off my milky whiteness since I didn't have time to spray tan and having only one toenail painted because that's all I had time for. So when I say mini meltdown, I mean I completely fell the fuck apart.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">But for the rest of the night, he was awesomely sweet and attentive and basically waited on me hand and foot. So maybe I should have breakdowns more often. Or maybe if I do, he'll think I'm even more batshit crazy than he already does. Which, surprise Joel, I really am super batshit crazy and will never stop over-extending myself, being in a hurry 100% of the time, and having exhaustion-induced breakdowns (even if it is the day before we leave for a relaxing vacation).</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Luckily, now that we're officially on vacation, I can drink alcohol at leisure (like with breakfast) and read and walk slowly and sometimes just sit and think without someone trying to talk to me or schedule me to do something. Sweet, sweet relief.</span>Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-22563374089398722462012-09-16T19:01:00.000-05:002012-09-26T10:19:35.645-05:00And Finally: 100 Things I Want to Do Before 30 (THE LIST)<br />
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">Here it is! The list of 100 Things I Want to Do Before 30. (Spoiler alert: There are actually 110.) Some I have done before but want to do again in the next months, some I've never done, some I need to adopt as part of my post-30 lifestyle. I'll update the list as fun things happen or new lessons are learned. Keep checking back to see my progress!</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Fun</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">1. Take advantage of an open bar. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">2. Sing out loud in a public place.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">3. Play elementary school type sports. Kickball, dodge ball, etc.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">4. Have one day of complete indulgence.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">5. Stay up all night. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">6. Enjoy a late night diner/4am meal. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">7. Buy as much as possible from Forever 21. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">8. Go to/host a theme party.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">9. Skip Black Friday, take advantage of Cyber Monday. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">10. When eating finger foods, use the hell out of dipping sauce. Don't be bashful. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">11. If you don't have to eat Ramen noodles, do it anyway to keep yourself humble.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">12. Watch 5 of the top 50 movies on IMDb. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">13. Camp in a tent. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">14. Surf. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">15. Keep a plant alive for a year. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">16. Sleep under the stars. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">17. Sing karaoke. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">18. Try snowboarding. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">19. Go to a waterpark and not feel scared or self conscious. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">20. Catch a fish. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">21. Upgrade one room in my house. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">22. Go skinny-dipping. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">23. Take a dance lesson. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">24. Kiss in the rain. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">25. Go skiing. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">26. Tip a server with something other than money. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">27. Play a drinking game. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">28. Drive more than 100 mph. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">29. Drink absynthe. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">30. Lick a 9 volt battery. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">31. Take part in a motorsport. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">32. Set off a fire extinguisher. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">33. Watch all the Monty Python movies. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">35. Get a perfectly justified parking ticket. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">35. Make a bet you can't afford to lose. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">36. Drive on the Pacific Coast Highway. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">37. Go to a music festival. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">38. Try a unique and rare food. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">39. Try three restaurants featured on the Food Network. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">40. Blow $500 in one night. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">41. Buy wine worth more than $50. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">42. Shoot something. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">43. Break something--not a bone!!</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">44. Use an entire roll of gaff/duct tape in one day. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">45. Make a pointless modification to your home. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Right of Passage</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">1. Take (another) trip abroad.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">2. Sit down, unplug, and read fiction. Every day for an entire week.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">3. Take a road trip.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">4. Accept that you can't please everybody, and then decide which select few opinions and feelings you value enough to try and satisfy.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">5. Enjoy the journey. The destination is fun, but sometimes the journey is the best part. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">6. Live as if you're not going to make it to 30. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">7. Don't confuse the people who are always present with the people who are always there.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">8. Make a point to have too good of a time today to worry about tomorrow.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">9. Lay off the current generation of teenagers.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">10. Step outside of your comfort zone. Be willing to learn and take on challenges you may not want to do. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">11. Be thankful for what you have. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">12. Start investing.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">13. Invest in yourself. Take classes, read books, learn a new skill. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">14. Develop your best skills.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">15. Take a girlfriend road trip. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">16. Go hiking. (in Europe, if possible)</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">17. Watch a movie in a theatre alone. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">18. Buy an expensive piece of jewelry for yourself. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">19. Read one meaning book from the Bible all the way through. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">20. Get something free from a masterpiece of complaining. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">21. Get something published. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">22, Test myself: do something I would never do in a million years. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">23. Spend a weekend in New York. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">24. Read 5 books I've always wanted to read. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">25. Reread 5 books I love. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">26. Climb a mountain. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">27. Take a weekend break more than 4 hours from home. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">28. Take part in a demonstration. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">29. Start a novel. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">30. Have a difficult conversation with someone I love very much. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Civic</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">1. Volunteer. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">2. Donate to charity. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">3. Take on a mentee.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">4. Take food to an animal shelter and walk a dog while I'm there.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">5. Give something I don't want to get rid of to someone in need. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Practical Tips</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">1. Learn that I don't have to respond to every text, email, or phone call. Go an entire day without technology. I can do this on vacation, but I want to do it in real life.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">2. Learn to cook. That's lofty, so cook one complete meal for dinner. Complete with wine and beer pairings.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">3. Keep making friends.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">4. Don't allow your mood to be linked to your bank account.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">5. Whether big or small, always have something to look forward to.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">6. Spend more money on experiences and less on material things.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">7. Save money whenever possible.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">8. Listen and ruminate, but never make important decisions based on others' advice.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">9. Live the life you want to live, not the life others expect you to live.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">10. Meet with a financial planner or advisor. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">11. Track your expenses for a month.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">12. Prioritize. Learn the difference between being busy and being productive.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">13. Set up a financial plan. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">14. Save 10% of each paycheck. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">15. Establish healthy eating habits.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">16. Set aside time for you. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">17. Be aware of etiquette. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">18. Be a good friend.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">19. Create an emergency fund. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">20. Have a complete health check. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Personal</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">1. Reconnect with someone I have lost touch with.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">2. Try and take notes on 30 different types of wine.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">3. Buy an entire outfit for full price.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">4. Find a mentor.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">5. Know what you're getting into.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">5. Try the "BEST" of 30 things. (wine, steak, sushi, fish, pillow, sheets, beer, chocolate, bread, butter, cake, etc)</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">6. Finish my Master's. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">7. Pay off college debt. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">8. Become fluent in something. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">9. Make my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health a priority. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">10. Start recording my family history. </div>Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-13587362605827914262012-09-16T10:52:00.000-05:002012-09-16T10:52:01.173-05:00Everything I Need to Know I Learned While Drinking WineMaybe you've heard of the poem <i>Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. </i>Well, they were really onto something, and it became abundantly clear last night that some people failed the kindergarten of life.<div>
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It is <a href="http://www.shupagirl.blogspot.com/2012/09/hey-there-miss-judgy-pants.html">Sharla's birth month</a>, so we decided to celebrate by going to a Jazz and Wine Fest in downtown Evansville. We brought along our good friend, Leslie, and Sharla's husband, Jody. Poor guy, he was completely surrounded by gossiping girls. </div>
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We went to this wine fest as a much larger group two years ago and had an absolute blast. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ96JZUSEwvf2-FiJOPhPbqkA-WQdUOWMAmKnUkx8Oa7pET28KT_L4eLOiCgwzcgW6iGt5RB0NPm40WR46n6X853dQaVKI0k1pdwtdkvgB2eLECWoMod7k-LMZwd03cMYyQpltdB1iscI/s1600/39516_512827438571_180695_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ96JZUSEwvf2-FiJOPhPbqkA-WQdUOWMAmKnUkx8Oa7pET28KT_L4eLOiCgwzcgW6iGt5RB0NPm40WR46n6X853dQaVKI0k1pdwtdkvgB2eLECWoMod7k-LMZwd03cMYyQpltdB1iscI/s320/39516_512827438571_180695_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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But it wasn't nearly as crowded as it was this year. In the year since we've been, they have downgraded to plastic glasses (such bullshit) and cut three hours off the time frame of the event. I'm guessing since people (like me) couldn't start drinking at 1pm this year, they packed the streets at 4:00 when it opened. As we passed super crowded "booze tents" as some drunk called them (that drunk was not me--promise), I got the brilliant idea to pass up the tents near the entrance and go to the ones farther away hoping they were less crowded. This was not the case. The line at the tent we ended up at was through the tent, out the side of the tent, and down the street. </div>
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We waited to taste our first sample of wine for an hour and fifteen minutes. This was fine by us, because we were catching up, and friending each other on Instagram, and otherwise occupying ourselves. At the very same moment, our blood sugar was plummeting, and we all started to feel a bit cranky. </div>
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Then, some assholes decided they didn't need to wait in the hour-long line and that they could <i>cut in front of us.</i> At first, we were all just a bit perturbed. Then as this trend really caught on, I decided I'd had enough, and my hangry self walked up to this group of selfish cutters, knocked their glasses out of their hands, shoved my empty plastic cup down the throat of the one who commented on the long line despite having just cut it, and basically dominated the wine festival and drank all the wine for myself. Except that only happened in my dream after I passed out from lack of food and wine. Except that didn't happen either. </div>
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What really happened was that we <i>finally</i> made it to the taste-test area and no one would give us samples so we started helping ourselves while loudly commenting on the f*ck faces who'd cut in front of us. Then I purchased 8 bottles of wine and drank as much as I wanted in front of the cutters who were still waiting to get samples. And ate some kind of blackberry chicken mashed potato pita, because I was about to go into shock from low blood sugar. </div>
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But after our <i>it's never okay to cut </i>lesson, the night was amazing. We sampled lots of really good wine, lots of wine that tasted like hooch, bought some (seriously 8 bottles for me) to bring home and drink later (or last night as soon as I got home), and made lots of good birthday memories!</div>
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Earlier in the day, my fam met up at a Catholic Church picnic to watch my sis-in-law's band, Dysfunctional Groove, play, and they were awesome! And we were so proud of her!! And I made my brothers do a little family photo shoot with me. And they loved it. </div>
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And Stink played an Angry Birds game that made him an angry bird.</div>
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And this guy was the highlight of my life. </div>
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And this is how I feel today. </div>
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Be sure to tune in tomorrow and the rest of the week to hear about our Orlando vacation adventures from last week!! You'll love every minute of it, and I'll pretend I'm still on vacation because I have to work 110 hours this week. YAY!!</div>
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Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-78307514162548379452012-09-14T17:06:00.000-05:002012-09-14T17:06:03.389-05:00Don't Call It a ComebackFriends, Family, Two Other People Who Read My Blog--<br />
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I know I posted a couple of times this past week, but you may have noticed I was being a bit vague as to what I had been up to. Maybe you didn't notice, in which case, mission accomplished. In your face.<br />
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I was being vague because I was on vacation!!! Joel had to attend a solar conference in Orlando, FL, and I decided he should never get to do anything fun without me, so I tagged along. He hates it when I put stuff about going on vacation in a public forum--let's be honest, he hates it when I put<i> anything at all </i>about our lives in a public forum--so I promised not to mention being out of town on my blog until we returned. And because I don't like people robbing us either, I upheld that promise.<br />
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You'll be happy to know that while I was on vacation, I wrote about what I was doing and how things were going, and I saved each and every one for you. My plan is to post them on the days that I wrote them only one week ahead, while we're actually here to keep the burglars who read my blog out of the house (keep up now, if I wrote it on Saturday of last week, I'll post it on Saturday of this week, get it? Good.).<br />
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But because I know you can't wait, here's a sneak preview of the vacay:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkOhaCTReChKXW3GZ0yowcwqwYGDTdefCuVpLynMg04UD0bFlOqDjWFkzDR19csn78uJVPenttQ6pfnnVoijvCp7eiKQpKZsUdNAvvW8nyBRJcoxma6zoEgTqS0gYQnnkNC9Rpqzhthno/s1600/IMG_0978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkOhaCTReChKXW3GZ0yowcwqwYGDTdefCuVpLynMg04UD0bFlOqDjWFkzDR19csn78uJVPenttQ6pfnnVoijvCp7eiKQpKZsUdNAvvW8nyBRJcoxma6zoEgTqS0gYQnnkNC9Rpqzhthno/s320/IMG_0978.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Clearly, we had a rip-roaring good time. More to come later. </div>
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Also, during my trip, I came up with some super fun and super cool new stuff for my blog that you'll be seeing over the next few months and even over the next year! (Yes, I do plan some of this rambling out in advance.) I know you're about to pee your pants you're so excited. AND, Joel gave me his old Mac laptop to start blogging from, which means that shit is getting real, guys. Now I can lie in bed and blog and comment without my iPad being an asshole. I'm pumped.</div>
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And one more thing, for your photo-viewing enjoyment. I took my little mansy, Jack, to a festival Owensboro had last weekend called the East Bridge Art Festival (although, as my sis-in-law pointed out, the bridge is absolutely north), and we had all kinds of fun. Then we had a mini belated bday party for him at the farm since we would miss his party on Sunday. Here are some pics of that!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Big Blue Bridge of Owensboro</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's too cool for his own good</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet boys <br />(Joel was working hard for the money and couldn't come)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NABG_KcQhuFe_DOMVEMcvztN6VR6-32Py2GStIRwY0cP0fwvk4uFpa6-ddXd15SySJc2nSy6HFSSJMWcyRPveNwv0ERMyE4nJqLSAdi5ByOw__hviKR6DWjHbgle57eXzkSl_C-oNms/s1600/IMG_0958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NABG_KcQhuFe_DOMVEMcvztN6VR6-32Py2GStIRwY0cP0fwvk4uFpa6-ddXd15SySJc2nSy6HFSSJMWcyRPveNwv0ERMyE4nJqLSAdi5ByOw__hviKR6DWjHbgle57eXzkSl_C-oNms/s320/IMG_0958.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I swear this is a dress, and that I didn't go pantless to a festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1GeM_QWnJo8r_zhUiSwEHkbJpFkmeswa4tL10gs4P2xxPIK3v7Cu7TeaBR-wfwdNR3efHtjVOrslJC5VXqbOL4hNeQHxMVqbzHGpUb9SuKL5qypHQ73usrKxTzgiM9IEAtPb0hhMM-w/s1600/IMG_0959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1GeM_QWnJo8r_zhUiSwEHkbJpFkmeswa4tL10gs4P2xxPIK3v7Cu7TeaBR-wfwdNR3efHtjVOrslJC5VXqbOL4hNeQHxMVqbzHGpUb9SuKL5qypHQ73usrKxTzgiM9IEAtPb0hhMM-w/s320/IMG_0959.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My brother helped draw that shit, ya'll. So cool.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3mNCOviOh8fSeZhc8XSZvdFxX0LQZxMKGthQSA8top-fE-AS8LF1aqNuG29uLrPcODeWFcpK9Y1SkVNoXs7ruNEZHglvbfS0Xx3u6O1fWzZCV9TogddLg2tmsDwXYPs57cY8y6w2nP8/s1600/IMG_0961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3mNCOviOh8fSeZhc8XSZvdFxX0LQZxMKGthQSA8top-fE-AS8LF1aqNuG29uLrPcODeWFcpK9Y1SkVNoXs7ruNEZHglvbfS0Xx3u6O1fWzZCV9TogddLg2tmsDwXYPs57cY8y6w2nP8/s320/IMG_0961.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jack and friends: bunch of monkeys</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxan_0ApG4lDqVbugVTvo4GmMQlhd4iWj0lbDDZz4Rl9HyqZG0EmzuXLxiTWBgZcOuvareZdUwW0gr24rU6K70ZYlVx29rS-abgv_-4TN-blKhDiVtpsoVkCcJVVgzX-jZz5yjRYw5Meg/s1600/IMG_0962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxan_0ApG4lDqVbugVTvo4GmMQlhd4iWj0lbDDZz4Rl9HyqZG0EmzuXLxiTWBgZcOuvareZdUwW0gr24rU6K70ZYlVx29rS-abgv_-4TN-blKhDiVtpsoVkCcJVVgzX-jZz5yjRYw5Meg/s320/IMG_0962.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jaxon helping with his school's chalk drawing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwomWEYTLsiobQYbrJZ5r0rk9vVb59AynVZooSSItUg4jF7RMZ8W5PesmVuVJpH34IzAn8YySBA13x8Ku_v_3ioiidhjrPbNAwljCecplEfyZeRwHAxOcui3lrYWPbPM0h6UtgICXID5g/s1600/IMG_0964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwomWEYTLsiobQYbrJZ5r0rk9vVb59AynVZooSSItUg4jF7RMZ8W5PesmVuVJpH34IzAn8YySBA13x8Ku_v_3ioiidhjrPbNAwljCecplEfyZeRwHAxOcui3lrYWPbPM0h6UtgICXID5g/s320/IMG_0964.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bubble Art!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNE7syHJzUaKX9eb2Vop_AVNJ5DAnm8-VWPBhr-KS6YFiywKbvuHZgoO-_yb1XqFEC5EleYgWyvZRNs4RNtX49qusPA8b1fly7SgfKNHIKlJKz9yQiqmxyM1TrWPNArbyu1iZp0sPVAbk/s1600/IMG_0965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNE7syHJzUaKX9eb2Vop_AVNJ5DAnm8-VWPBhr-KS6YFiywKbvuHZgoO-_yb1XqFEC5EleYgWyvZRNs4RNtX49qusPA8b1fly7SgfKNHIKlJKz9yQiqmxyM1TrWPNArbyu1iZp0sPVAbk/s320/IMG_0965.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look closely, there's a Stink Monster in there</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbkiQewUlhoRdZwhtpCRpvZoNwmeVN_nvZixERXnT5W8BeVmWdHLigmrIhgzR9EDiZUj7sRQb655ago4W9MhZ6yJ1yXgoH5EDFo-8vCbd9kB3xiRoN19GBPPGFmQ90L70cJtNQ9yks5M/s1600/IMG_0968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbkiQewUlhoRdZwhtpCRpvZoNwmeVN_nvZixERXnT5W8BeVmWdHLigmrIhgzR9EDiZUj7sRQb655ago4W9MhZ6yJ1yXgoH5EDFo-8vCbd9kB3xiRoN19GBPPGFmQ90L70cJtNQ9yks5M/s320/IMG_0968.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We got him an electric guitar for his bday.<br />(Such a sweet pic of Joel and Jack)</td></tr>
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Everyone have a great Friday, and if you'll excuse me, it's 5:00 and time to start drinking. :)</div>
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<br />Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-4578603363039452862012-09-11T13:58:00.001-05:002012-09-11T13:58:18.964-05:00September 11, 2001: Never ForgetI had been at my small, liberal arts college for a little over a week. I was still trying to be somewhat healthy and got up at 8am and got my ass to the gym. (What I wouldn't give for that 115 lb ass now that I thought was so huge back then.) I walked into the gym and noticed a couple of upperclass girls who I'd already decided were awesome and I wanted to be friends with. I shot smiles at them and proceeded to get down to business on the treadmill. CNN morning was news was on the television, and the girls were all getting a pretty good laugh over--what I had gathered to be--a plane that had just idiotically crashed into a building. One of the twin towers to be exact. I remember them commenting on just how bad a pilot had to be to crash into a building this huge this blatantly. You see, the sound was off on the television, and we all thought it was just some silly, albeit scary and tragic accident. <br />
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As we were watching the coverage of this lost pilot, we realized another plane was headed straight for the other building. Suddenly, as impact was made, the treadmills were absent-mindedly turned off, the laughter stopped, and we all stared, mouths agape, at the TV. For what felt like 10 years, no one spoke. <br />
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As the towers began to crumble,one girl sobbed, 'oh my God,' and tears began to stream down a few other girls' faces. I had no idea what was going on. I was terrified and confused and didn't know what any of this meant or why it was happening.<br />
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I silently walked back to my hall where the other girls were still sound asleep. I woke my roommate whose boyfriend was deployed to tell her the news. She burst into tears and immediately began trying to contact him. I went to the girls across the hall to wake them, and soon the entire floor was huddled in my RA's room watching coverage. We hugged, cried, comforted my roomie all we could while we pondered what our world would look like from this point forward.<br />
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To this day, I cannot watch coverage of that day without crying. Hearing the sheer panic in the voices of spectators, hearing the resignation in the voices of passengers calling to say goodbye to their loved ones, and remembering the fear we all felt hundreds of miles away and tucked into the safety of our Kentucky college campus. <br />
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Since that day, I have watched many documentaries, and honestly, I still can't tell you what I believe happened that day. But, today, 11 years from<br />
when so many people lost their lives; so many lost husbands, wives, children, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, and friends; so many valiantly gave their lives in pursuit of a rescue mission, I choose to remember them. I choose to think about the innocent victims of this tragedy and the heroic men in uniform who fight to keep us free. Here's to you. May God be with your families and this country. Forever.Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-21724855246884589352012-09-10T09:49:00.001-05:002012-09-10T09:50:01.071-05:00Five Random Opinions (Rachel's Linky Party Fun)I recently posted an opinion post (that now has everyone I know scared to speak to me for fear of critique--let me help out, I am critiquing you, but only judging if I don't love you), but today Rachel over at LalaLists is having a linky party that's opinion-themed. (Autocorrect really wanted to change that to kinky party, which would have changed this post altogether, and I'm not sure Rachel wants me telling the world about her having those kind of parties!) So, because you can't get enough, here are five random opinions.<br />
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Crocs are stupid. You will never, ever find crocs on my feet unless in the case of my untimely death, someone puts them on me in my casket to get back at me for something I did like correcting their grammar and chiding them for bad fashion choices. In which case, I will come back as an actual crocodile and bite that person's feet off. Laugh last? All mine.<br />
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You should respect the president whether you agree with him or not. I once had a teacher I hated and she hated me back. I wore lip gloss to her class and she made me wash it off. From that day forward, I chose to believe she hated me because I was prettier than her. Even though I hated her, I respected her. She was my teacher, and it was only right of me to not undermine her authority, defy her, or defame her. And the same goes with the leader of our country. The things I have heard people say lately make me cringe. At the end of the day, he deserves respect. His job is much harder than yours even on its worst day. And a little more love and respect in any situation can't hurt. So give it up.<br />
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When people say amaze balls, totes, or woot, I want to poke them in the eye. It makes me scream. It's like fingernails on a chalk board to me. These are made-up words that should have never been made up. Totes is the least offensive, but you sound like a modern day, albeit stupider version of Bill, Ted, Wayne or Garth. As if 'totally' doesn't make you sound stupid enough, you're not even smart enough to finish the word. And who decided woot is a celebratory word? It is typically the word that comes out of my mouth when I slip on water and catch myself before anyone important sees. Or the word that pops out on the occasion that I realize there was a little more substance to a fart than originally thought. Not a word used to tell someone I'm excited about something. So shut the woot up. The worst one is amaze balls. I have yet to see a pair of these that count as amazing, much less that are so awe-inspiring that I want to turn it into a positive adjective. Why did we add balls to an otherwise good word?? Wise up, people of the world, and stop making yourself look stupider using these dumb words.<br />
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Bare minerals is maybe the best thing I've ever put on my face (besides a kiss from my sweet SO, that is). I'll admit, I was resistant to it at first. I kept thinking my face looks far too shitty to get all the coverage I need out of a powder. I need coverage the consistency of paint and primer duo. But my good friend, Shelley began singing the praises of BareMinerals and my face did it's once a year freak-out around the same time. Covered in zits, red splotches, and dry patches, I decided I needed a miracle. And Bare Minerals was it. From the moment I began using my THREE kits I purchased, I have been a believer. The coverage is amazing, it makes me look bright and not old, and feels like I have nothing on my face. I'm in love, and it feels so good.<br />
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Of all the things that piss me off, LOL might be the biggest one. Let me let you in on a little secret: haha (an actual laugh/onamonapia) is a mere one letter longer! And rarely does something make me, in fact, laugh out loud. At which point, I'm so appreciative of the chuckle that I say 'I laughed out loud.' I have deleted phone numbers of potential suitors for the use of LOL. And my close friends know how I hate it, although I will forgive an occasional slip if I love you. (or in Joel's case, I will respond, 'That was funny, but don't use LOL.' I can't explain the fury it ignites in me, but it's there. And it's easy to alleviate. With a simple 'haha.'<br />
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There you have it. Five opinions that your day wouldn't be complete without. Dear World, you are welcome.Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-18601588069660853252012-09-09T11:06:00.000-05:002012-09-09T11:06:02.872-05:00Casi and Joel: A Year in Photos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's a big day in the Clark/Osborne home, so I thought I'd take a break from my as-of-late rants and celebrate...mine and Joel's one year anniversary! Now, there is some debate over the actual date that should be celebrated, as our first date was Sept. 8 of last year, but on Sept. 9 of last year (our second date), Joel said, "Oh! Wouldn't 9-9-11 be a great anniversary?" And so it was. The rest is history.</div>
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I have compiled my favorite pics from the last twelve months for you here.</div>
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Casi and Joel: A Year in Pictures</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sept 2011 at the farm</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oct 2011 Halloween</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nov 2011 Buffalo Road Show in IN</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nov 2011 Thanksgiving (Christmas Card Pic)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dec 2011 Fiorella Christmas Party</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GgIbPXHzYknT7bgibHjNu76m7mtHPWJaUuR2zhsFi5CvKRCddeWR8wWl0HwETGfJyCxPHx4OJWFj8gMvFuoMhhaQ4Gkzn0cdVxXRcoP49ohS1KeDIeG9YWw_bO2sDRlCF0m-uYE_srE/s1600/403191_2910277805991_1850496989_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GgIbPXHzYknT7bgibHjNu76m7mtHPWJaUuR2zhsFi5CvKRCddeWR8wWl0HwETGfJyCxPHx4OJWFj8gMvFuoMhhaQ4Gkzn0cdVxXRcoP49ohS1KeDIeG9YWw_bO2sDRlCF0m-uYE_srE/s320/403191_2910277805991_1850496989_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dec 2011 Pryor/Clark/Spalding etc Family Potluck</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRC4vL3-bWRFnAsH1iJUPVkIZItrSmA7TKLVYa3K_IWM685dtG-6gqIZfsiIWxYRBr2Up169its-DehqH52z2ANoIvHYDgza9Hm4niYj6n7h4650VYM45IH-pUZug8wHpk-TK9Bks0vs/s1600/374855_530000318981_299062598_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRC4vL3-bWRFnAsH1iJUPVkIZItrSmA7TKLVYa3K_IWM685dtG-6gqIZfsiIWxYRBr2Up169its-DehqH52z2ANoIvHYDgza9Hm4niYj6n7h4650VYM45IH-pUZug8wHpk-TK9Bks0vs/s320/374855_530000318981_299062598_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dec2011/Jan 2012 New Year's Eve</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI81PCp9JjN1l8ZFJzt4kbv5nwGxQz8foOb36njvMnLgWDtZTKg_X-ZPUS7YJw4qsW75bEdmTDD7z5G3X6zNqxwfdz4zwKhBvC-vfi_7hkFawYPzVAv2hlmUUS0ztn6o-1QfyOn9-5E1k/s1600/430600_563212102023_1003375831_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI81PCp9JjN1l8ZFJzt4kbv5nwGxQz8foOb36njvMnLgWDtZTKg_X-ZPUS7YJw4qsW75bEdmTDD7z5G3X6zNqxwfdz4zwKhBvC-vfi_7hkFawYPzVAv2hlmUUS0ztn6o-1QfyOn9-5E1k/s320/430600_563212102023_1003375831_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feb 2012 Costa Rica--My 29th Bday</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWjimVPpREdMrCJw4EHm25IlDeSO1oKi206gRU5q-7N9qtgDDoXVM430s4jZgdcFcjm4O2FHN61N-jwvFFmAqidY34KDaRwOlzsp7NLbE0Zj0RcEU-yutXCrCsU4qgn8-D8hVhoVW0WI/s1600/IMG_0104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWjimVPpREdMrCJw4EHm25IlDeSO1oKi206gRU5q-7N9qtgDDoXVM430s4jZgdcFcjm4O2FHN61N-jwvFFmAqidY34KDaRwOlzsp7NLbE0Zj0RcEU-yutXCrCsU4qgn8-D8hVhoVW0WI/s320/IMG_0104.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feb 2012 Costa Rica</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzK27m4MKzXuASbWDmA0rLDsx9xhRoBjGJ7Y6gvZ3i1_sIoRc5D6Z7FllosmUzeAbnCbOOESH4YPvsH1atTr1Kfuh9-CK9xc5UwNuzyL_XpB7F-Z11Oi5LWgezs0K80sExQLiRvcvX34/s1600/IMG_0163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzK27m4MKzXuASbWDmA0rLDsx9xhRoBjGJ7Y6gvZ3i1_sIoRc5D6Z7FllosmUzeAbnCbOOESH4YPvsH1atTr1Kfuh9-CK9xc5UwNuzyL_XpB7F-Z11Oi5LWgezs0K80sExQLiRvcvX34/s320/IMG_0163.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">March 2012 Family Time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ZL-ANo-9T9TeY39lHZ3eDd5nmDZ_kKLVKSrDGSffJQ_sngrkalkamaWht1xBhsN1eGR3tyIUm4YCCD0AmDBPrQB6BfiEzANN9ev5MdioQcIxyXYgcHXHuQ_fVC7ANeTw17_8_Yfb42o/s1600/545796_570142104243_1492989658_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ZL-ANo-9T9TeY39lHZ3eDd5nmDZ_kKLVKSrDGSffJQ_sngrkalkamaWht1xBhsN1eGR3tyIUm4YCCD0AmDBPrQB6BfiEzANN9ev5MdioQcIxyXYgcHXHuQ_fVC7ANeTw17_8_Yfb42o/s320/545796_570142104243_1492989658_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">April 2012 Melting Pot with the Barrs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbPUfGjN18Bj986vs_9F3Fs-4Z3F6xe8FAZ-XEG5NJi2uFfJ_S0bVc1hJoE4cBa91sCaWX3GBku7Nc287JZj1qt-krV7yaFmuMk0DBzVIYaTZFFPKjbd_eFkYSyQrESbrE6KnwNcJIO6I/s1600/IMG_0380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbPUfGjN18Bj986vs_9F3Fs-4Z3F6xe8FAZ-XEG5NJi2uFfJ_S0bVc1hJoE4cBa91sCaWX3GBku7Nc287JZj1qt-krV7yaFmuMk0DBzVIYaTZFFPKjbd_eFkYSyQrESbrE6KnwNcJIO6I/s320/IMG_0380.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">April 2012 at the Farm (Blurry but my favorite picture!!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzHdn-OeXL7X0DeAyiXJQXQHOHNQw7iLPSavqtTXXEuuVVSK2pFbFfEChmWHD2-PoI7ejENogXscEUVxJKXngqTEjtHB4dMprnbYXq3myN3gEs5c8OpaFE5OjsW07KM-eBL478jDJlyK0/s1600/IMG_0382.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzHdn-OeXL7X0DeAyiXJQXQHOHNQw7iLPSavqtTXXEuuVVSK2pFbFfEChmWHD2-PoI7ejENogXscEUVxJKXngqTEjtHB4dMprnbYXq3myN3gEs5c8OpaFE5OjsW07KM-eBL478jDJlyK0/s320/IMG_0382.PNG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May 2012 Cinco de Mayo!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YQZ3OKHrPpkoqwRLYVBqECqd0jHtwt30bUdZjm9sSR9he_UCcTs51xTE6F6EVNydZ01ieWs52IgPnkGXT9wKHPXgIpfOaSsZy8gQ9GgMXWTQoG4AAJVJbvo4ElLp50AFdFqXGzZxwJI/s1600/IMG_0469.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YQZ3OKHrPpkoqwRLYVBqECqd0jHtwt30bUdZjm9sSR9he_UCcTs51xTE6F6EVNydZ01ieWs52IgPnkGXT9wKHPXgIpfOaSsZy8gQ9GgMXWTQoG4AAJVJbvo4ElLp50AFdFqXGzZxwJI/s320/IMG_0469.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">June 2012 Joel's Temporary Tattoo </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcY6Q-h6stDlwiUMydb-UYOrrArwaYfUA4b5aKsHlGgNFHoWRR75fRhQ1eA0lgiu87FUclIPA7JtwVHmCHGPhryLvTHZxJifE1E1VRy_3IRgCdahXbGVW1weAK91_We8Y2fWxytLbtu9g/s1600/182122_578192241703_1073574349_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcY6Q-h6stDlwiUMydb-UYOrrArwaYfUA4b5aKsHlGgNFHoWRR75fRhQ1eA0lgiu87FUclIPA7JtwVHmCHGPhryLvTHZxJifE1E1VRy_3IRgCdahXbGVW1weAK91_We8Y2fWxytLbtu9g/s320/182122_578192241703_1073574349_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July 2012 Baker/Roberts Wedding</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykxGCJx8zg9DgN24p8JyiKV3g4mgM15qYGLbVXxkHhEOmxOHNr3G8GhY2VLrosJvLhQsjJS8-V_SmliKW0eTKpITf8nh9m_NT2XLVbNVoaqbteIITK_5CP6BmvH6hbsuow6EABPp3VJA/s1600/555745_578192186813_499948941_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjykxGCJx8zg9DgN24p8JyiKV3g4mgM15qYGLbVXxkHhEOmxOHNr3G8GhY2VLrosJvLhQsjJS8-V_SmliKW0eTKpITf8nh9m_NT2XLVbNVoaqbteIITK_5CP6BmvH6hbsuow6EABPp3VJA/s1600/555745_578192186813_499948941_a.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July 2012 Newton Lake Trip</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtmQe-xaqvkTl40v2k3A0YvOLkQ9vurCTotzlllGPViuNv5GejMO4j34OEa02bu0OOuGASw2g9-5LAQZtZbilv1DGD77S8r50oD4gNTCsMttCWrF3h2ovZjstJt0bpCr5zhrG5e6SWpY/s1600/IMG_0595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtmQe-xaqvkTl40v2k3A0YvOLkQ9vurCTotzlllGPViuNv5GejMO4j34OEa02bu0OOuGASw2g9-5LAQZtZbilv1DGD77S8r50oD4gNTCsMttCWrF3h2ovZjstJt0bpCr5zhrG5e6SWpY/s320/IMG_0595.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July 2012 Fourth of July Celebration</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFIVZB9Ijx8NdzQY79QUsYIUlPBGlGhAk-VCg4BXKofFEJ2LLAL6p6wpIPGuD4nK32uMUw6Q-DClG2aXusi8Gi_2MW_7BksBd3ysJQqoBIdmbDppXEY59q7PL0b45YsreUbZ49ncjIUI/s1600/IMG_0596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFIVZB9Ijx8NdzQY79QUsYIUlPBGlGhAk-VCg4BXKofFEJ2LLAL6p6wpIPGuD4nK32uMUw6Q-DClG2aXusi8Gi_2MW_7BksBd3ysJQqoBIdmbDppXEY59q7PL0b45YsreUbZ49ncjIUI/s320/IMG_0596.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July 2012 Fourth of July Celebratory Kiss</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRlGdwHGjTEUtM1XfuKGbUjnclP43CoHiuzG20MXcKSQ7ZvdpZBT5u8iw6AmYzhO5e58VvuOIsZWngFNbtTZYCcXE9RkxdebtcvBV2d0segq4sEaOmy3EMq1skOvnu6BhgAdiSUj8qLs/s1600/529089_577510797323_561396446_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRlGdwHGjTEUtM1XfuKGbUjnclP43CoHiuzG20MXcKSQ7ZvdpZBT5u8iw6AmYzhO5e58VvuOIsZWngFNbtTZYCcXE9RkxdebtcvBV2d0segq4sEaOmy3EMq1skOvnu6BhgAdiSUj8qLs/s320/529089_577510797323_561396446_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">August 2012 Dancing at the Yellow Rose</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOiDcimukMQKPbHB3d1k0j0MC9AA8bDxPvH8Hew7AvYxfDWckdOTM_eKy47hu2F3QWkV4cFJ5rMfFvp_P8pNKvNW8z_7ubtswLtAfLTLt_FkBSLc6YvWDucERGfFNj3CZpU-FStFwpCk/s1600/IMG_0862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOiDcimukMQKPbHB3d1k0j0MC9AA8bDxPvH8Hew7AvYxfDWckdOTM_eKy47hu2F3QWkV4cFJ5rMfFvp_P8pNKvNW8z_7ubtswLtAfLTLt_FkBSLc6YvWDucERGfFNj3CZpU-FStFwpCk/s320/IMG_0862.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">August 2012 Brunch in Nashville with Scott and Rachel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDNNo4Ezp1TgDj1chb0ztoOATrVLyCE79QThRM5n8p97r4jvAITazNBhuhLC6PHoU43ssBPRbyD59IAqnhFy6f71oMS0DzLvSSe1UdfJXFCTJLtP4fq4OhLOd0bRTuN5wwr_XT-5IcP8/s1600/IMG_0863.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDNNo4Ezp1TgDj1chb0ztoOATrVLyCE79QThRM5n8p97r4jvAITazNBhuhLC6PHoU43ssBPRbyD59IAqnhFy6f71oMS0DzLvSSe1UdfJXFCTJLtP4fq4OhLOd0bRTuN5wwr_XT-5IcP8/s320/IMG_0863.PNG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Excited for many, many more years together!</td></tr>
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<br />Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-14853622354948783312012-09-07T17:49:00.001-05:002012-09-07T22:50:59.404-05:00Things That Make Me Go UGH!Confession: I have been one grumpy asshole lately. Little things have been setting me off and making me want to drop kick everything and everyone around me. I'm sure this has nothing to do with the week of the month that is upon me or my Holy-Shit-Have-I-Even-Taken-A-Break-To-Pee-Today Schedule, but I am--as of this moment--officially on vacation for the next 6 days. (Not 7, because I'm dumb and booked a 12 hour day next Friday--YAY!) So it's time to buck the hell up. But first, here is a list of five things that <i>always</i>--not just this week--piss me off. (More than five things routinely piss me off, but, hell, there are only 24 hours in a day. I can't be sitting here typing for all of them.) ENJOY!<br />
<br />
--<b>Mispronouncing the H in words.</b> It makes me cringe. When people say <b>H</b>erb instead of --erb. And then when the <i>same </i>people say --uman instead of <b>H</b>uman. (Mom, I'm only slightly talking about you. Other people do it too.) I think it should be labeled as some sort of disorder. In fact, mispronouncing things in general pisses me off. We have a county in Kentucky called McCREARY. People around me say McQUERY. I silently scream in my head every time.<br />
<br />
--<b>Poor grammar.</b> This is a biggie for me. I will correct your ass in a second. Even if I barely know you. Subject/verb agreement is a basic concept, and I firmly believe if you haven't grasped it, you should be pushed back to kindergarten and forced to repeat every grade Billy Madison-style. I also will cringe when people misuse -ly. If you don't know if you are misusing it, <a href="http://www.users.qwest.net/~yarnspnr/writing/adverbs/adverbs.htm">look it up!</a> I once purchased $80 worth of <a href="http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/">Grammar Girl's</a> books <strike>to prove I know everything about grammar</strike> just to learn more. And if you wonder if you're getting your grammar right, you should too. It honestly is one of my biggest pet peeves.<br />
<br />
--<b>Inappropriate responses to email or text. </b>I don't mean like you say:<br />
<i>"Hey can I visit Thursday?"</i><br />
And they say <i>"F*** you, Mother F***er!" </i>or <i>"Only if you're naked."</i><br />
I mean like you say, <i>"I can visit either Thursday or Friday. Which is better?"</i><br />
And they say, <i>"Sounds great!"</i><br />
Ummm, no. Answer the damn question.<br />
I always want to reply<i> "Read that one more time and try again." </i><br />
It also drives me crazy when you send an email with more than one question, and someone responds with an answer to only the first or last question.<br />
Like <i>"Hey, I am coming Thursday. Do you want me to bring that cardigan for? Also, I'm getting McDonald's, what would you like me to get you? And would you like fries with that?" </i><br />
And they reply <i>"Fries sound great! See you soon!" </i><br />
So, just as punishment, I am going to get McDonald's for me and eat my damn fries in front of you until you learn how to read an entire email or text.<br />
I'm busy too. We all are. But you can take half a second and read an email, so that your response is appropriate.<br />
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--<b>Inappropriate usage of quotes. </b>Dear God, this makes me want to unfriend people on facebook daily. You only put quotes around <a href="http://grammar.ccc.commnet.edu/grammar/marks/quotation.htm">actual quotes</a> and when you're being ironic. Like if I said for the next week I'm going to "work hard." Because I'm on vacation, the work I'm referring to is putting the wine glass to my mouth. But when people post on facebook and say last night's concert was really "great" and you're an "amazing" singer, it makes me wonder if the concert was shit and the singer sounded like a dead moose. Because if it actually was great, don't use those f*cking quotes.<br />
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--<b>Adding an s to words that don't need it. </b>If you know me, you've probably heard me rant about this before. And I have often wondered if this is exclusively an Owensboro thing or if it is found 'round the world. But for a fact, people around here put an s on <i>almost everything. </i>Stores, restaurant names, bands, you name it, they're adding an s. We have a band in town called The Usual. (Like 'what will you have?' 'I'll have The Usual.') The people of Owensboro call them: The Usual<b>s.</b> They aren't the Wiggles, people! We have a restaurant called Shogun. No s. People say Shogun<b>s.</b> And then they'll say "Oh, it shows ownership." Bullshit!! <i>Shogun is not a person!! </i>And Kentucky has a basketball team called...THE KENTUCKY BISON<i style="font-weight: bold;">S.</i> C'mon, people,<i> bison is plural!</i>! That's like saying ChineseS. And my all-time, biggest ugh-inducer is when people say Krogers. When they tell me they went to Krogers to get it, I like to say "how many?" and when they look at me dumbfounded, I say "How many <i>Krogers</i> did you have to go to?"<br />
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There ya go, friends. Five of the biggest things that piss me off. So watch your words, or you might just get drop-kicked!Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-41318358098882037662012-09-05T18:43:00.000-05:002012-09-06T16:56:09.358-05:00Best Blog Project Ever!Joel just had the best idea he's ever had. No!--before you ask--he didn't propose.<br />
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He told me that, for my blog, and for the betterment of my future, I should make a list of 100 things you can't get away with in your 30's, and do one of those things each day of the last 100 days of my 20's.<br />
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Gang, this countdown starts in exactly 66 days (do the math, that means a mere 166 days until I'm 30), so I have to get cracking on this project.<br />
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I love this idea, so I have taken to the internet to get sample lists of the last 100 things to do in my 20's. Once I compile the list, I will share it with you here, and then complete one thing on the list every day until I reach 30.<br />
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Then I'm working on a sweet list of all the things my 20's have taught me. And maybe I'll learn some lessons whilst doing the last 100 things I can get away with as a 20-something!Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1168413340823335021.post-10669313146709868062012-09-05T17:46:00.002-05:002012-09-05T17:49:43.598-05:00Opinions are Like Assholes: I'm Surrounded by ThemSo, it's a Presidential Election Year. (For the record, I hate when people say it's an <i>election year</i>. Note: <i>every </i>year is an election year, just not a <i>presidential</i> election year.)<br />
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But because we are a mere 63 days from the day we'll all (18 and older, only, please) vote for our choice for the next President of the US of A, people's opinions have kicked into high gear. As a rule, I rarely discuss politics or religion with people I'm not super, super familiar with (like we can talk about it and even if we disagree and think each other are idiots, you'll still love me and I still love you). I think it's silly when people get into heated debates over touchy topics as if there's some <i>possible</i> way that one party is going to say, "You know what?? You're right. I've been wrong all along. I'll change my opinions and beliefs on the double!" Mostly it's going to end in uncomfortable silence, a punch in the face, or a riot on the streets of Chicago. (Don't even get me started on politics and facebook. SUCH a huge pet peeve of mine!) I always think it best that we leave these opinions to the voting booth, the almighty use of our dollars, and who we pray to, meditate to, or pretend doesn't exist.<br />
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Unfortunately not everyone else is of this mindset, and lately, those people have gravitated toward me. Over the past month or so, I have found myself in far too many uncomfortable conversations where people are chronicling their political beliefs to me, in the stupid assumption that I agree, and better yet, even care. I do keep a close eye on politics and do have strong beliefs myself (those of which, you'll never learn from my blog, because I don't do that shit). Many of these uncomfortable situations have passed without note, where I politely nod my head while I'm making my mental grocery list, and the belief-sprewer goes on and on, until I can gracefully change the subject or act like I am having a f*cking heart attack, so they'd shut up and leave me alone.<br />
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But one incident in particular absolutely infuriated me, and I still haven't quite been able to shake it. I was at a school working with students when a substitute teacher asked me how the political change or lack of change might affect students' money for college. I immediately saw that this was simply an opportunity for her to pretend to listen to what I had to say and then tell me what she thought (because I care so much I can't sleep at night). To avoid this inevitable ridiculousness, I said, "Who knows?" shrugged, and tried to walk away. However, she caught me in her web of bullsh*t beliefs and had me standing there nodding and trying not to have a panic attack, while she began to tell me of the media-induced lies that she subscribes to. Besides trying to inch myself away toe by toe without her noticing, it wasn't too harmful, until she vomited up the most insane line I've ever heard uttered in public: "And what really makes me mad is when blacks and whites get married."<br />
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At this very moment, my face flushed, my fists clenched, and I felt a strong urge to put two fingers on her forehead, push it back as hard as I could, and say, "Hey b*tch, it's f*cking 2012. Maybe you should step your dumbass beliefs into <i>this </i>century." Instead, I interrupted her mid-sentence, mumbled something about being there to do work that I should get back to, and walked away, avoiding her at all costs for the rest of the time I was there.<br />
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Newsflash: This is my nephew. Notice anything progressive and awesome about this guy?<br />
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He happens to be biracial. His mother is black. His father is white. And all three of them are amazing.<br />
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So, during this political season, no matter your opinion, please keep in mind that other people may not agree with you. You don't know them and what their life situation is. As you ramble on about the right to have abortions, they may be struggling to conceive a wanted child of their own. As you complain about people who take advantage of government funding, they may have just reluctantly applied for unemployment benefits. And they may have the most awesome, beautiful, perfect little angel of a nephew who was created by two people that you just said should never have been able to marry. And when in doubt: keep your opinions to yourself.Casihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18376006595899993719noreply@blogger.com2