Happy Memorial Day, faithful blog readers! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend, and took a moment to remember those who served our country.
Most people celebrate this holiday by hanging out with friends and/or doing some home improvement projects. I did both, and in this blog post I'm going to tell you about the first half of my weekend: my awesome trip to Shreveport, LA (which will for now and ever more be known as S'port cause it is way more fun to say and easier to type)
I went to college in S'port at Centenary College of Louisiana. There I met some cool people, but none as cool as the four girls I affectionately call the S'port girls. The five of us were in Sigma Alpha Iota together and we were all music people. I've managed to stay in close contact with all of them, despite our living in four separate cities (Crosby/Houston, Dallas, Austin and S'port). These chicks are my bffs / sistahs from other mothahs and I love them more than words can say. Lucky for us, all of our husbands get along too. I know, the S'port girls as a group name isn't male inclusive, but they just deal with it. So let me introduce you to my S'port Girls: S'port Girl J; S'port Girl S; S'port Girl Lil' Brudder; and S'port Girl R. I could give you descriptions, but that would turn into a really long blog.
We try to get together once every three months or so, and we decided that this weekend would be a perfect opportunity to gather in S'port and do our usual itinerary of shopping, gossiping and lite drinking. We share everything, and no topic is off limits. I'm sure people overhear things we discuss and are completely shocked. If we all lived in the same town, we'd be reality show material.
While at our ritual IHOP breakfast, the girls expressed that they like my blog and it makes them laugh. They decided they could write this post, and this is what they came up with:
S'port Girl S: S sucks, and her hair is frizzy.
S'port Girl Lil Brudder: Hey! Don't say that or I'll shank you with a spoon! *She then picks up her spoon and threatens S with it.
S'port Girl J: Hahahahahahahaha
The End.
Umm, I think they shouldn't quit their day jobs. Even though they can't write a blog to save their life, I love them all the same :)
In my next post I'll tell a story about T's frogs. You won't want to miss it.
-Mer
Monday, May 31, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Dreaming of Gaga Glee
I am a diehard Glee fan. I love the musical numbers, I love the hilarious one-liners that come courtesy of Sue, Brittany and Kurt, and I definitely love that they do not shy away from the real awkwardness of high school. Last night's episode featured Lady Gaga hits and it was AMAZING!
I admit, I hated Lady Gaga when she first hit the scene. I remember seeing her perform "Just Dance" on So You Think You Can Dance (Another favorite of mine...it starts Thursday so be prepared for blogs about it!) and thinking "Who is this and what kind of crack is she smoking??" Now, I can't get enough of her hits. Plus, I respect her a bit more because I found out she went to Julliard and I think that's just too cool cause as we all know I'm a bit of an arts nerd.
I woke up this morning and realized I had had a dream about Lady Gaga influenced by the Glee episode. I'm a little traumatized about it, so I need to share it with my loyal blog followers. Basically, the arts organization where I work (am I still fooling anyone here?) decided to do a special with Lady Gaga...and the staff members got to be in the performance. My coworkers and I were on stage and honestly had no idea what we needed to do, and yet we worked together as if we had been rehearsing for months. The curtain went up, and a woman brought out a baby - it was the birth of Gaga. So we use all of these sheets and mattress cover things (I think this was my subconscious using some of my packing experiences from the weekend) to make Gaga appear in various forms. It was pretty weird. Then the real Gaga appeared from a trap door and she spotted me and said she wanted to pierce my ear cartilage on stage in front of everyone. This is when I realize that all of my coworkers had piercings that they don't have in real life. I freak out and tell her no and run off stage.
I don't remember the rest of the dream, but I'd say that is weird enough, don't you? So readers, do you have any similar dream experiences?
I admit, I hated Lady Gaga when she first hit the scene. I remember seeing her perform "Just Dance" on So You Think You Can Dance (Another favorite of mine...it starts Thursday so be prepared for blogs about it!) and thinking "Who is this and what kind of crack is she smoking??" Now, I can't get enough of her hits. Plus, I respect her a bit more because I found out she went to Julliard and I think that's just too cool cause as we all know I'm a bit of an arts nerd.
I woke up this morning and realized I had had a dream about Lady Gaga influenced by the Glee episode. I'm a little traumatized about it, so I need to share it with my loyal blog followers. Basically, the arts organization where I work (am I still fooling anyone here?) decided to do a special with Lady Gaga...and the staff members got to be in the performance. My coworkers and I were on stage and honestly had no idea what we needed to do, and yet we worked together as if we had been rehearsing for months. The curtain went up, and a woman brought out a baby - it was the birth of Gaga. So we use all of these sheets and mattress cover things (I think this was my subconscious using some of my packing experiences from the weekend) to make Gaga appear in various forms. It was pretty weird. Then the real Gaga appeared from a trap door and she spotted me and said she wanted to pierce my ear cartilage on stage in front of everyone. This is when I realize that all of my coworkers had piercings that they don't have in real life. I freak out and tell her no and run off stage.
I don't remember the rest of the dream, but I'd say that is weird enough, don't you? So readers, do you have any similar dream experiences?
Monday, May 24, 2010
The ABCs of Moving Into a New House
A is for antique store that won't get my business again. Why? Because they couldn't find Crosby on google maps to deliver my chairs, forcing B and I to stop everything and go pick them up ourselves.
B is for Budget Rent Truck. Honestly, they weren't the best because we had to wait over an hour for the truck. Guess they were cheaper than Uhaul for a reason...
C is for couch, which almost fell down the stairs and killed T and S'port guy Tuba. It was truly frightening
D is for Dad, who put up with our moving shenanigans and arguments. Thanks Dad!
E is for extra effort. Yeah, I didn't put forth extra effort. Everyone else did.
F is for friends who came to the rescue and helped us move! Thanks to S'port guy Tuba, Lil' Brudder, B, Sis'n'law M, Bro'n'law A, and T's BFFs Big H and Lil H.
G is for gas and the many gallons we had to buy for the move :(
H is for heat. At least we didn't move in July or August, right?
I is for irritating pool party that the apartment complex held while we were moving. I guess we could have stood on our balcony and flashed everyone like it was Mardi Gras or something. Too loud, you whippersnappers!
J is for 'just kidding, I want that *points at the big piece of furniture* upstairs'
K is for kitchen organization - thanks Lil' Brudder and Mom!
L is for laundry I forgot to do :(
M is for money - geez it is expensive to move!
N is for new couch! It is glorious (and not the previously mentioned one that nearly killed people...that's the ugly Al Borland couch that I'd rather just burn)
O is for omg are we done yet???
P is for packing...lots and lots of packing...
Q is for quick sonic run that went something like this:
Me, leaning over B who was driving: I need a #7 with Sweet Tea and Fries...a Kid's Pack with a hot dog, just mustard on the hot dog, apple slices, and a Dr. Pepper...an order of mozzarella sticks...a regular size watermelon cream slush...a Route 44 Coke...a Route 44 cherry lime-ade...a Route 44 Sweet Tea...
Sonic Worker on the Speaker: Will that be all?
Me: God I hope so...
Sonic Worker proceeds to rattle off the entire order and then says: Is that all correct and do you need anything else?
Me: Ummmm and....Two Bananas
B and I proceed to giggle for ten minutes...pretty sure they thought we were high.
R is for running out of bubble wrap a few times.
S is for sister...as in, I have the best sister ever cause she designed everything for me.
T is for tired. Enough said.
U is for umbrella...as in, ha we didn't need one!
V is for very grateful to be done with moving
W is for watering the yard everyday kinda sucks
X is being skipped cause I'm ready to wrap this up.
Y is for yay I'm a homeowner!
Z is for zzzzzzzzzs that I need to catch up on this week.
Ok, that's our move in a long nutshell. I'm too tired to be more witty. Tell me about your moving horror stories.
B is for Budget Rent Truck. Honestly, they weren't the best because we had to wait over an hour for the truck. Guess they were cheaper than Uhaul for a reason...
C is for couch, which almost fell down the stairs and killed T and S'port guy Tuba. It was truly frightening
D is for Dad, who put up with our moving shenanigans and arguments. Thanks Dad!
E is for extra effort. Yeah, I didn't put forth extra effort. Everyone else did.
F is for friends who came to the rescue and helped us move! Thanks to S'port guy Tuba, Lil' Brudder, B, Sis'n'law M, Bro'n'law A, and T's BFFs Big H and Lil H.
G is for gas and the many gallons we had to buy for the move :(
H is for heat. At least we didn't move in July or August, right?
I is for irritating pool party that the apartment complex held while we were moving. I guess we could have stood on our balcony and flashed everyone like it was Mardi Gras or something. Too loud, you whippersnappers!
J is for 'just kidding, I want that *points at the big piece of furniture* upstairs'
K is for kitchen organization - thanks Lil' Brudder and Mom!
L is for laundry I forgot to do :(
M is for money - geez it is expensive to move!
N is for new couch! It is glorious (and not the previously mentioned one that nearly killed people...that's the ugly Al Borland couch that I'd rather just burn)
O is for omg are we done yet???
P is for packing...lots and lots of packing...
Q is for quick sonic run that went something like this:
Me, leaning over B who was driving: I need a #7 with Sweet Tea and Fries...a Kid's Pack with a hot dog, just mustard on the hot dog, apple slices, and a Dr. Pepper...an order of mozzarella sticks...a regular size watermelon cream slush...a Route 44 Coke...a Route 44 cherry lime-ade...a Route 44 Sweet Tea...
Sonic Worker on the Speaker: Will that be all?
Me: God I hope so...
Sonic Worker proceeds to rattle off the entire order and then says: Is that all correct and do you need anything else?
Me: Ummmm and....Two Bananas
B and I proceed to giggle for ten minutes...pretty sure they thought we were high.
R is for running out of bubble wrap a few times.
S is for sister...as in, I have the best sister ever cause she designed everything for me.
T is for tired. Enough said.
U is for umbrella...as in, ha we didn't need one!
V is for very grateful to be done with moving
W is for watering the yard everyday kinda sucks
X is being skipped cause I'm ready to wrap this up.
Y is for yay I'm a homeowner!
Z is for zzzzzzzzzs that I need to catch up on this week.
Ok, that's our move in a long nutshell. I'm too tired to be more witty. Tell me about your moving horror stories.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
What is it about Ikea...
...that brings out the freaks?
As newlywed first time home buyers, we frequent Ikea because we are strapped for cash but want semi decent furniture. I've had really odd experiences the past two times we were there, so I figured I'd share.
Last weekend, we all took a trip to finalize what dining room table we were going to buy for the house. But, as anyone who goes to Ikea knows, you look at every single section in the store even though you don't necessarily need anything from the other sections. B and I were walking through the bedroom / bathroom section, and we rounded the corner into one of their fake bathrooms (FYI Ikea sells sinks and stuff now...it is pretty awesome!) and we find the following: a little girl, about 8 or 9 years old, sitting on the fake toilet, fully clothed, grunting like she's pretending to use the bathroom. She looks up at us and is like "hey get out I'm using the bathroom" and then giggles. Um, what? Really? I look at B and she looks at me and we quickly exit the fake bathroom. All we could think about was, why are kids these days so weird??? And more importantly, were WE ever that weird? I shutter to think that I'd ever do that when I was kid.
A few weeks ago, a similar awkward situation occurred as I walked into another of Ikea's fake bathrooms. I turned the corner and there is a couple standing there full on making out. Like, I saw their tongues. I yelped Oh sorry! and quickly ran away. I have no idea if they saw me, but they ended up being near us the rest of the way through the store. Is that what people do for thrills now? Make out in the middle of a department store? Maybe T and I need to try that to ignite some passion...on second thought no I'm not in the business of PDAs because I'm not in HIGH SCHOOL anymore.
So between the weird kids and the icky adults, should I bother going to Ikea anymore?
As newlywed first time home buyers, we frequent Ikea because we are strapped for cash but want semi decent furniture. I've had really odd experiences the past two times we were there, so I figured I'd share.
Last weekend, we all took a trip to finalize what dining room table we were going to buy for the house. But, as anyone who goes to Ikea knows, you look at every single section in the store even though you don't necessarily need anything from the other sections. B and I were walking through the bedroom / bathroom section, and we rounded the corner into one of their fake bathrooms (FYI Ikea sells sinks and stuff now...it is pretty awesome!) and we find the following: a little girl, about 8 or 9 years old, sitting on the fake toilet, fully clothed, grunting like she's pretending to use the bathroom. She looks up at us and is like "hey get out I'm using the bathroom" and then giggles. Um, what? Really? I look at B and she looks at me and we quickly exit the fake bathroom. All we could think about was, why are kids these days so weird??? And more importantly, were WE ever that weird? I shutter to think that I'd ever do that when I was kid.
A few weeks ago, a similar awkward situation occurred as I walked into another of Ikea's fake bathrooms. I turned the corner and there is a couple standing there full on making out. Like, I saw their tongues. I yelped Oh sorry! and quickly ran away. I have no idea if they saw me, but they ended up being near us the rest of the way through the store. Is that what people do for thrills now? Make out in the middle of a department store? Maybe T and I need to try that to ignite some passion...on second thought no I'm not in the business of PDAs because I'm not in HIGH SCHOOL anymore.
So between the weird kids and the icky adults, should I bother going to Ikea anymore?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Hello World! Are You Out There?
Hi.
So this is my first blog, and I must say, I'm kinda nervous about it. See, I have this need to impress people with every. single. thing. I. do. So I guess that's why I sorta relate to the real housewives you see on Bravo every week. I want / need / yearn for attention, but you won't catch me turning over a table in a restaurant full of people or trying to force feed a "singing career" down all my friends' throats. No, I'm going to indulge my need for attention through this blog. So if you are reading this, thanks for the attention and I really hope you are impressed with my writing...I aim to give you a little chuckle or two or twenty :)
A little about myself: I'm a newlywed. We got married almost a year ago and it was pretty spectacular. T is everything I could possibly want in a husband. He lets me get away with just enough to keep me happy, but keeps me on the ground at the same time. He is incredibly patient and I really don't know how he deals with me. T is pretty much the male version of my sister B, who is my bff and has put up with my BS for years. I guess that's why I was drawn to T - I subconsciously knew he was just like B and would put up with my crap. Plus he has a cute butt.
I work for an arts organization. I don't know if I should say which one to "shield my identity" and what not, but most of my readers know me in real life so I guess it doesn't matter. Guys, this is my dream job. I literally have wanted to work here since I was 12. Can we say lucky?
We just purchased our first home. It was a really long process and I'm a bit jaded now that we are close to moving in. (Side note: I should be packing right now. Obviously I have no interest in doing that) I have a tendency to have, as they say, champagne dreams on a beer budget. I'm working through this issue and trying to love my house. I'll blog a bit more about this later, cause it is an interesting internal struggle which I'm sure many of you can relate to (at least a little).
So to summarize: this blog is a bit of an indulgence for me. I get your love and attention and I get to write and express my ideas, my likes/dislikes, and my struggles/triumphs as I navigate the next chapter of my life in a very small town that I swore I'd never go back to. Hopefully you'll join me on this little adventure.
-Mer
So this is my first blog, and I must say, I'm kinda nervous about it. See, I have this need to impress people with every. single. thing. I. do. So I guess that's why I sorta relate to the real housewives you see on Bravo every week. I want / need / yearn for attention, but you won't catch me turning over a table in a restaurant full of people or trying to force feed a "singing career" down all my friends' throats. No, I'm going to indulge my need for attention through this blog. So if you are reading this, thanks for the attention and I really hope you are impressed with my writing...I aim to give you a little chuckle or two or twenty :)
A little about myself: I'm a newlywed. We got married almost a year ago and it was pretty spectacular. T is everything I could possibly want in a husband. He lets me get away with just enough to keep me happy, but keeps me on the ground at the same time. He is incredibly patient and I really don't know how he deals with me. T is pretty much the male version of my sister B, who is my bff and has put up with my BS for years. I guess that's why I was drawn to T - I subconsciously knew he was just like B and would put up with my crap. Plus he has a cute butt.
I work for an arts organization. I don't know if I should say which one to "shield my identity" and what not, but most of my readers know me in real life so I guess it doesn't matter. Guys, this is my dream job. I literally have wanted to work here since I was 12. Can we say lucky?
We just purchased our first home. It was a really long process and I'm a bit jaded now that we are close to moving in. (Side note: I should be packing right now. Obviously I have no interest in doing that) I have a tendency to have, as they say, champagne dreams on a beer budget. I'm working through this issue and trying to love my house. I'll blog a bit more about this later, cause it is an interesting internal struggle which I'm sure many of you can relate to (at least a little).
So to summarize: this blog is a bit of an indulgence for me. I get your love and attention and I get to write and express my ideas, my likes/dislikes, and my struggles/triumphs as I navigate the next chapter of my life in a very small town that I swore I'd never go back to. Hopefully you'll join me on this little adventure.
-Mer
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