Awesomeness of the Carpenter Style

So today I met the awesome and cool Mary Chapin Carpenter.  I saw her name and said to my boss, "Her name is Mary Chapin Carpenter?"  She looked at me and said, "Yes."  I looked at her quizzically and with a whisper said, "THE Mary Chapin Carpenter??" She again replied, "Yes."  My response, "Wow."  What a dork.  But then, I met Mary Chapin today and you didn't!  Hahaha, suckers!!!!  I was slightly giddy and maybe a bit of a dork, but then again, I met Mary Chapin Carpenter!  Suuuh-weeeeet!!!

Ok, that's enough.  I'm going to sit here and bask in the glory of my day while I sip on some coffee and make an attempt at productivity.

And Life Continues….

So the Worst Week Ever has finally come to a close and I spent all of yesterday being a lazy bum and giving my little ol’ brain a minute (or 1440 minutes) to relax and think about nothing more than if I really want to buy that blouse, those jeans, that sweater and a new pair of boots even though I need none of them.  I’m rationalizing these needless expenditures on making it through the Worst Week Ever without losing every bit of sanity I have or killing someone.  That and I have a new found love for sweaters.  They may not be the most flattering of the clothing world, but they do keep me warm and cozy during the dreadful months of fall and winter.  I’ve really got to move somewhere warmer….

During the Worst Week Ever, I came to the same realizations about myself and Big that I always come to.  That he’s a waste of my time, no matter how much I love him.  Problem is, I've been there done that countless times over the last four years.  Bigger problem – he always realizes when I've come to this train of thought and makes everything good again.  He'll soon start acting the way I've always wanted him to act, being attentive like I wish he would be, and saying the things I've longed to hear.  Even bigger problem – it’s always a temporary fix but I fall for it every time.  I’m not sure which is worse…my weaknesses or his manipulations.  Either way, it makes me want to pull my hair out while I scream.  My conclusion – I will start dating other people.  Even though this is something that I've been attempting for a while, I have historically sabotaged any potential relationship I've run across.  The more promising ones I completely ignore or blow off and then, upon realizing my stupidity, try to draw them back in but it’s always a little too late.  Since I’m in a teeny little town with a small dating pool of eligible bachelors that meet the standards I have set for myself, I decided to do Match.  But…the dating pool on the outskirts of my teeny little town consists of fat rednecks that make minimum wage and drive a 1980’s model pickup truck that probably doesn't pass inspection and would likely take me on a date to the Waffle House.  Great.  Do you see my dilemma??  I think I'm ready to move back to the land of hot men with real lives – even if it is in the midst of the chaos and never-ending traffic that I despise and ran screaming from just a couple months ago.  Living here serves a purpose…I keep telling myself that.  Maybe one day I'll believe it.

My week did end on a bright note….I got a call from my greatest friend and we chatted and bitched and made plans to get together soon.  And even better than that I made my last car payment!  Here's to outright ownership and a nice monthly raise!  Life is good after all.  And now I'll be going back to debating whether or not to spend $500 on a new fall wardrobe that will satisfy me emotionally and keep me warmer than I would otherwise be.

Welcome to the Land of Grown Ups – No, You Aren’t That Cool Anymore

So…this past Tuesday night I decided that I was going to go out for a drink after class with my only in-town friend.  Drinks.  On a Tuesday.  Class until 10.  Work at 8 the next morning.  I don't think it went too well.

After two huge glasses of straight vodka laced with ruffies my face was on the floor and my eyes were crossed and I didn’t know my ass from my head.  I’m sure I acted and said a whole lot of ridiculousness.  Fortunately, I had someone there to make sure I stayed within the limits of humanity.  Another fortunately…I don’t remember half of the night.  

I imagine it went something like this.....

I called out “sick” from work yesterday and here I am two days later…the lining of my stomach is gone, my liver is dead, and my head still hasn’t stopped pounding.  I’ve eaten the greatest hangover food ever – a 7 layer bean burrito and chicken quesadilla, a burger with everything on it, Chinese food…I’m well on my way to becoming a fat chick with a drinking problem.  But I did get to experience what I would have been like in college.  All in one night.  It sucked as much as a French whore does.  I’m glad that I’m 32 now.  I’m glad that I don’t go out and get blindingly drunk anymore.  I’m glad that missing memories are less a thing induced by alcohol and more a thing of too much on my plate.  I’m glad I’m not that cool anymore.  Or maybe I’m too cool for that.  Either way, I’m glad to be me here today.  Except for the whole feeling like shit part.  

Lesson learned?  Next time I go out on a Tuesday night I’ll have one cocktail.  One little cocktail, no ruffies.

Did I Just Tweet or Have I Tooted?

I'm officially on Twitter and sent my first Tweet this morning!  I know, I know...it's a great day in the life of me. Hold the applause, please.  Until this blog of mine started up I didn't really understand the point of Twitter.  Well I do now.  To get MORE ATTENTION!!!  (This is where I pretend I have a swarm of followers anxiously awaiting my every word.)  But I still don't understand the verbage going on here.  I mean, what the fuck is the # and how do I know when and how to use it and what everything stands for? And I know the site is Twitter, when I actively post I Tweet, but when I've posted in the past have I...Twated?  Tweeted?  Twitted?  Or did I Toot?  I guess it doesn't matter much and I'm sure I'll figure it out soon enough.  Even if no one out there cares that I just woke up or that I went to Target and bought the cutest dress ever for a mere 10 bucks, it's all worth it for that cute little bird.