Pics

Hey look! It's my feet! At the beach. I took this when I was at Folly Beach a few weeks ago. The water felt soooo good! Note my freakishly long toes. Actually, this angle makes my thighs look kinda big...


This is a shot I took while on a moving boat. Pretty good, huh? We had a nice sunset that night.

Just in case you are really bored and/or nosy, this is my kitchen. It is the only part of my apt that I don't like. Notice how there is no countertop. It is a kitchen designed for people who hate to cook, and therefore, have no kitchen equipment.

Here, you can finally see the back of me. That is my baby. He is very tired. I am thinking this would be a good avatar....what do you think?

Ok, that is it for now. Just wanted to share some pics.

Note to self: take more interesting pictures.

Effing Thursday 13

I JUST typed this out. Then I did something and erased it ALL. Anyway, here is my Thursday 13. Late, as usual. Oh, and men probably aren't going to want to read this.

Fourteen (Bite Me!) Things Indicating I am Hormonal 1. I. Can. Not. Get. Up. Must. Sleep. All. Day. 2. I have no interest in healthy eating. I want cheese, chocolate and Chik-fil-a. With a side of Oreos, Doritos and that cheese sauce at Mexican restaurants. And a bacon double cheeseburger. Don't even TRY to stand between me and my chocolate ice cream. 3. Seven zits appear overnight. They all hurt. 4. Road Rage? Check. 5. I turn into a total klutz. Spilling, falling, tripping. I make it all look easy. It is like stunt week for me. 6. I am Little Miss Negative. I am fat, stupid, fugly, boring, annoying, mean and I suck at my job. Really, I should be shot because I am a worthless human being. 7. I suddenly have only a rudimentary grasp of English. 8. My tits are killing me!!!! Where can I get a bra that is made of steel?? No jogging this week. None. 9. I look and feel like a puffed-up toad. 10. I spend 50% more time in the bathroom. 11. My brain is playing its own version of duck, duck goose: headache, headache, headache....MIGRAINE!!! 12. Any thinking over about a third grade level is just not feasible. 13. WHY am I crying? Why? No one would cry over this!!! 14. Everybody sucks.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Soo....I just realized that I'm supposed to notify people on the TT website whenever I do one of these. Oops. Oh well.

I was going to share some pics with y'all, but they haven't hit my email yet. I will try again in a little bit. Oh, and since it is Fun Friday today, here are some cool links:

The Duggar Family -- that weird family with like 13 kids. They have a website. Who knew.

Did you know you look like a celebrity? You can see which one you resemble here.

Oh and I so want to buy something from this site. I am weird because I think they are funny.

Happy weekends, everyone!!!!

3% and 9/11

There is something I want all of you to check out. It is a blog run by a guy who is trying to do a memorial for all the people who died in the 9/11 attacks. All you have to do is go to his blog and sign up, saying you will post about the victim on 9/11. He will email you a name of a victim. He even gives you a link for information about the person so you can learn about them.

Until then, you can subscribe to his RSS feed, or just check in periodically for updates. Last I looked, he had about 20% of the names taken. So there are a lot of names up for grabs. I think the grand total is 2,996. If you would like to just spread the word through your blog about this memorial, that would also be appreciated. His idea has to reach a lot of blogs!

On 9/11/06, the 5 year anniversary, the participants will post a tribute to their person. You can do whatever you want-- a poem, a song, or just a regular post. Be as creative as you like. All he asks is that you don't mention the terrorists--this is to remember the victims.

I really hope more people will sign up, because I think this is a really cool idea.

In other news... I just found out yesterday that I will be getting a 3% raise starting next month, and maybe a smidgen more if my annual review goes well. It won't be a lot of extra money, but it definitely helps with gas prices.

Another story I forgot to share: As I was driving to The Czarina's, I got a phone call from a school here in town, asking if I wanted to be interviewed for a media specialist position. While I don't know positively if this is the career route I want to go on, I decided it would be good experience, so I accepted.

They wanted me to interview on Monday. It was Thursday. Not much notice. And to boot, I knew I wouldn't be all that prepared or rested up since I would be at Czarina's between the invite and the interview. I sucked it up and went anyway. I was exhausted. But I made it through. They asked me a lot of really hard questions, like what sort of programs I would initiate, how I would decorate the library, how I would get parents more involved and how I would deal with students who aren't reading at grade level. I had no idea school librarians were in charge of all this stuff! I answered as best I could, considering I hadn't put all that much thought into the position.

The annoying part was, one of the people interviewing me was really rude! First of all, she is one of those people that gives the limp handshake. You know, the ones where they act like they don't want to touch you. They don't move their hands. Ugh, that is one of my biggest pet peeves. I instantly disliked her. Then, during the interview, she kept looking at the clock and staring out the window! Can you believe it? I mean, can't she just fake it for the whole half-hour I was there? Come on! I know interviews aren't the most interesting things in the world, but sheesh!

So it wasn't the best interview of my life, but it wasn't the worst, either. They said they would know by the end of the week. I would be very surprised if I were offered the position, even though I think the principal liked a lot of my answers. It would be a heck of a commute if I got it. And I don't know how much it pays, so that would have to be determined, too.

Crazy Story

I finally replied to everyone's comments in the last two posts. Thanks to everyone for the well wishes and welcome backs. Before I launch into the crazy story, I have to post some something I forgot to mention in the last post.

I was checking my messages on the way home. My ex, The Big Ex, called me. We dated for two years and broke up almost 3 years ago. I was totally devastated at the time--I was very much in love, and he broke up with me out of nowhere. It wouldn't have worked out anyway--he was moving to Florida and going back to school. We have kept in touch somewhat, and I'm over all the hurt, but since I've started dating Repo, we haven't talked. So this was very unexpected. I was curious and worried that something bad had happened to him, so I called him back. No answer. I left a message. He called me back the next day, and it turns out he just wanted to catch up. And you know what? For the first time, I had no desire to talk to him. None. I wanted to get the hell off the phone ASAP. I made no effort to lengthen the conversation or get into anything really personal. I didn't mention Repo and didn't ask him about his dating life. It was really weird. I guess I must be officially over him 100%. Whew! I thought that would never happen.

I haven't told Repo about the call. I don't really see the point. There is nothing for him to worry about. It's a non-issue. I would never get back together with him, and really don't see the point in ever talking to him again. Do you think I should tell? I dunno. Maybe I should....(and no, I don't think Repo still reads my blog, in case you are wondering.)

Ok, on to the Crazy Story. And by crazy, I mean kinda scary. And gory. So take that for what it's worth.

So the P family was staying with us at Czarina's. Their oldest daughter, GP, had a crazy thing happen to her the night before coming over. She was out with a guy friend of hers and they were going out to the bars or something. They stopped at a gas station in Arlington, VA on the way to get smokes. They walk inside and see two people on the floor, covered in pools of their own blood. No joke. And there was a third guy leaning over them.

This third guy sees GP and her friend and splits. She thinks he was actually trying to help the victims, but was afraid he would be framed for the attempted murder, and so he ran away. (It would be really hard for one guy to stab two people multiple times. So I don't think anyone really thought he was the perpetrator.) GP and her friend start to help the two men who are bleeding to death from what looks like multiple stab wounds. GP grabbed a sweatshirt from the car to absorb the blood coming from one guy's chest. She had to apply pressure until the ambulance and police got there. This guy was in really bad shape. All he could do was look at her and say, "Thank you."

Meanwhile, her friend was applying pressure on the other guy's chest. In a random stroke of luck, it turns out that GP's friend is fluent in Spanish, which is the language the guy is speaking. They had a conversation while he was trying to help him. I don't know what they talked about, but I can only assume it was about his injuries or the crime.

Finally the 911 people arrive and are taking the two men to the hospital. They get statements from GP and her friend who were now literally up to their elbows in blood. They found out later that the guy GP was helping died on the way to the hospital. How sad is that? The last person you see is a total stranger who is trying to stop you from bleeding to death on the floor of a convenience store.

They think there must have been more than one criminal, because it would be really hard for one person to stab two people multiple times. I don't know if they have any suspects or anything, but according to what I have learned from Courtv, multiple stab wounds usually indicate a lot of anger towards the victim, so maybe it was some guys they knew. (Shut up, I am an armchair detective.) I mean, if you were going to rob a convenience store, you wouldn't bring a knife--you'd bring a gun. So I don't think that was the motive. I don't know if the victims were gas station employees or just customers.

GP said it was amazing how you can bond with a stranger in a situation like that. In just a few minutes, she said that she could feel a connection between all four of them. I guess when you get down to it, it is just one person trying to help another, which is the beauty of humanity, in my opinion.

GP said that the saddest thing about the whole event was that while they were trying to help these two men, several cars pulled into the parking lot, only to see what was going on and just drive away. It's really sad that we live in a country where more people aren't willing to help a stranger in a situation like that. It makes me depressed just to think about it. What if it was your brother, or father, or boyfriend or husband? Wouldn't you want someone to help them? I mean, regardless of the situation, no one deserves to die like that.

Of course, now GP and her friend will have to be interviewed and possibly even go to court as witnesses one day. So maybe we will learn more about it later. I just thought this was so crazy. It sounds like something from a tv show.

The Trip

I'm back. I've just been busy with work stuff. Yes, I realize I'm behind on reading people's blogs. I'm working on it. But in order to do so, I have to skim and lurk a lot because it's faster. Trust me, I'm out there.

Um...highlights. First off, I took no pictures. Please don't shoot me. As you will soon realize, there isn't much to see. Other than the pond behind the house, it's pretty boring. Peaceful and rural, but boring.

I had tried to warn K about The Czarina, her parties and staying at her house. It would be more work than play. And K would know no one other than me. I tried to tell her it wouldn't be much fun, but she still said she wanted to go. I was grateful for the company, so I didn't dissuade her as much as I probably should have. So we packed up, grabbed Sammy and picked up the 20 lbs. of BBQ, as requested by Czarina.

Since I had to pick up RP from Charleston before heading to Czarina's, four hours were added to my trip. So what was normally a 6 hour trip became a 10 hour trip. Not fun. But not terrible. For the first time, I had company with me in the car. It made it much more bearable. I had people to talk to and people to hand me stuff, which was nice.

Sammy slept and farted during the entire car ride.

We get to Czarina's, where she and my little sister, Smurf, greet us. We unpacked and were all sitting and relaxing in the living room. Czarina was telling us about my brother's dog, who peed on the rug a couple of weeks previously. She was still pretty pissed off about it. Right as she is telling us about this, Sammy proceeds to walk up to the chair I'm sitting in and lift his leg. He peed on her chair. Oops.

Aside from this bad first impression, she eventually grew to like Sammy.

I had forgotten that Czarina is a major cheapskate when it comes to air conditioning. The thermostat was set at 76 or higher, so I basically sweated like a buffalo the entire time. I think I took 7 cold showers in three days. Luckily, this didn't seem to bother anyone but me.

We were all pretty exhausted from driving all day, so we didn't do much the first night. The Czarina was in a pretty bad mood, due to the pre-party planning stress. K said she felt very intimidated, which was understandable. Czarina was at her frostiest. I told K she would calm down when her best friend arrived. (RP's mom is her best friend.)

The next day, I gave K a grand tour of my hometown (pop. 17,000). The main retail outlet in my hometown is a huge furniture warehouse. There are also a couple of cutesy preppy clothing stores-- not really our style. We did some window shopping, but since neither one of us has the space or money for major furniture purchases or a love affair with Izod, we were pretty much bored after an hour. We were hot, so we decided to hit DQ. We ordered two medium sized milkshakes, which surprisingly cost us almost $8! After getting over our sticker shock, we went to Wally World. Czarina needed some party supplies. Then we went home. Later on, RP's mom arrived, so Czarina's mood improved greatly.

K and I took Smurf to go see Click that night. It was ok. Not Adam Sandler's best. The morality issue was really beaten like a dead horse. But it does beg the question: What would you pause, FF, rewind, skip or stop in your life? Hmmm...food for thought.

The next morning was spent helping Czarina clean and get ready for the party. Not fun, but necessary. I tried to warn K that we would probably be doing some cleaning on this trip, but she said that was fine. I also tried to warn her that this was not going to be a fun family get-together kind of party. 99% of the guests were going to be more interested in discussing politics than pop culture. Again, K said this would be ok. (Czarina and I don't think she had much fun. We are both harboring guilt trips about it.)

The rest of the P family arrived, along with my brothers, Fat Dog and Fungus. Fat Dog brought his dog, Newton. He and Sammy were instant best friends and proceeded to take turns humping each other for the next 13 hours straight. This was very entertaining for all of us. They also explored the woods together, gathering ticks and chasing critters. If it weren't for Sammy's squeaky toy, he probably would have run away! I had a hard time finding him a couple of times during the weekend. But he had a good time.

People started arriving around 2pm. All in all, about 55 of my parents' closest friends came. Notice I said parents' friends. As the oldest kid there, I knew or at least remembered most of them, but even I struggled with some names and faces. And they all wanted to ask me about politics, law or my dad's career. I don't know much about any of these topics, but I do know enough to get by. Kinda. So I faked my way through every conversation. This is very stressful, because I'm sure they were all thinking, "His own daughter doesn't know about that?" I felt like a fraud.

If it wasn't the third degree about politics, then it was the old men who would corner me, talking about really really boring stuff. I would get stuck listening to them bitch about politics or academia for 45 minutes before I could mumble an excuse and make my escape.

For the first time in my life, I prayed that someone would ask me why I was still single.

Wasn't this supposed to be a party? Can't they all just get drunk and leave me alone? Isn't there someone here who just wants to talk about college football or Hogan Knows Best?

At one point, about two hours into these intellectual conversations, my brain started to hurt. So I escaped and went downstairs where K, my siblings and RP's siblings were. It didn't seem fair--I had to play co-hostess, and they were down in the basement, having fun. They had beers and cigarettes, they were playing pool and laughing. There was no conversation about anything requiring a PhD. But unfortunately, I was the oldest "kid", and somehow, age 27 left me straddling the "kiddie" room and the adult cocktail party going on upstairs. I felt I had a duty, but longed to have some fun.

"I swear, if I have to have one more boring conversation or answer another question about Dad's books, I'm going to scream," I said as I grabbed GP's cigarette and took two long drags. (GP is RP's sister.) They laughed. I told them they didn't know what I was going through up there. Then I went back up. At the very least, by being upstairs I could make sure we would be eating on time--I was starved!

Finally, at 6:30 we ate. BBQ, baked beans, coleslaw, potato chips and iced tea. And cake for dessert. Yum! (Except for the coleslaw and tea, that is.) Sammy was apparently fed lots of BBQ at some point during the evening. Don't ask how I know this. After dinner, most of the guests left. It was mostly just the P family and a couple of old family friends who hung around, drinking and lighting fireworks.

By 9pm, K and I were bushed. Plus, we knew we would be driving back the next morning. So we went to bed early, much to the dismay of the other "kids". After trying to sleep through the fireworks show, we were awakened by Fungus. 5 times. He kept opening up the door to our room and turning on the light and saying, "Y'all don't want to hang out?" We would have gotten up to strangle him if we had had any energy. We settled for locking the door.

In the morning, I went downstairs for my morning cup of coffee. One of my favorite things about my mom is that she understands the importance of having lots of coffee, ready to drink, every morning without fail. She didn't let me down. As I was sipping and studying the disaster zone that was formerly the kitchen, I realized something gritty was under my feet. And all over the countertop. And all in the sink. It was pretty much everywhere. Using some rudimentary investigative skills, I determined that some drunk person had tried to open a bottle of pepper blend and had somehow managed to sprinkle its entire contents everywhere. It was like a pepper parade had been thrown. I chuckled to myself as I figured it looked like a Fungus job.

Czarina knew I had to hit the road. She packed up the leftover BBQ and cake for us (YESSS!) as she explained that there would have been more leftovers if my drunken brothers hadn't had a late night feast. "That's ok," I replied. "They have to clean up all this mess!"

K and I showered and packed. I took Sammy out to potty before we got in the car. He went straight for the pile of vomit in the yard and began to try and lick it. Great. Another Fungus job, I am sure. After stopping Sammy, we grabbed RP and hit the road. It was another 10 hour trip, complete with diet coke and Combos. Only this time, it was raining, so we had no relief from Sammy's farts.

Early Thursday 13

I will be leaving to go to The Czarina's in the morning, so I will post this very quickly since I'm at work and we are closing in 10 minutes!

13 Things About My Trip Home

1. I am bringing Sammy and K with me.

2. We have to go to Charleston to pick up RP, a friend of the family. He goes to The Citadel and his family is very very close to mine. So he is going with us, too. His 'rents are paying for my gas (YESSSS!).

3. I also have to pick up 20 pounds of pulled pork BBQ at 7 am before I hit the road. I live in the heart of BBQ land, so Czarina asked me to bring the good stuff. Thanks, Sticky Fingers! (They are very delish, and you can order stuff from their website.)

4. Why so much BBQ? Because we are having a big party on Saturday. About 60 people. Mostly friends of the family. We decided to honor my dad with an annual BBQ on his birthday every year. It was partially my idea-- I don't want his birthday to be sad for me every year. So we decided to have an annual party near his b-day.

5. I am so excited to see all of these people! Many of them are friends of my parents who have known me since I was in diapers. Lots of them are godparents, kids I grew up with or just people I love. My extended family isn't that big, so this is as close as it gets to a family reunion for me.

6. Sammy will meet his (doggy) cousin, Newton the Jack Russell. Cross your fingers that they get along ok. Sammy will probably hump him.

7. I am looking forward to my official road trip food: Wendy's, Laffy Taffy, Combos, diet Coke, apples, granola bars and string cheese. Of course, you know as well as I do what will get eaten first...

8. I will be out of the loop while I am there: my cell doesn't work, Czarina only has dial-up. I'll try to stay in touch, but no promises. Repo will have to rely on me to initiate contact, as he is scared shitless of The Czarina. As well he should be....

9. Potential activities include: taking K to see the house where I grew up (an old farmhouse), playing 17 games of Scattergories with Smurf, watching far too much TV, eating lots of ice cream (the only junk food Czarina keeps around), doing crossword puzzles over morning coffee, watching the pond and its various wildlife and going to the grocery store every day. Oh, and reading.

10. Yes, I will take pictures and share. Czarina truly lives in nowhere's land. It is rur-al. I'm talking beavers, bears and bobcats in the backyard, here, peeps.

11. I still haven't packed. Crap.

12. I have two new CDs to listen to on the way up. I always burn new ones before road trips.

13. I'll be back on Sunday! Wish me luck. I always hit traffic jams on I-95 on the way home.

Last Thursday's 13

Yes! Another 3-post day! Now my readers can get their VB fix!

I was on vacation. I don't feel like looking up the code.

13 Annoying Things

Don't you hate it when...

1. You put a dirty fork in the dishwasher, only to realize the dishes are clean. Now you have re-dirtied all the silverware.

2. You drop something you need into the toilet. Or you drop something you don't need into the toilet, but it's too big to flush. Either way, it's time to go fishing.

3. You go to put on the top you want to wear, only to realize there is a stain on it.

4. Your deoderant conks out halfway through your day.

5. You think no one is looking, only to realize someone is.

6. You are already late, and you spill your purse all over God's creation. There are tampons and ATM receipts and other things you can't just leave laying on the ground.

7. You have lost the receipt. For something that costs a decent amount of money. So now you are stuck with it. It stares you in the face every day, saying, "Ha ha! You're stupid! You should have known not to spend your money on something like me, anyway!"

8. You move, and forget that you have packed your library books. A month and a half later, you find them.

9. You drop it and it breaks. When you are trying to sweep it up, you cut your foot. It won't stop bleeding. You are now late. Plus, you have to go buy another thing like the one you just shattered.

10. You're in a major hurry and the store is out of what you need. Of course, you made a special trip to that store just for that item.

11. A bird poops on your head.

12. You forgot their birthday, but they remembered yours. And give you a nice gift.

13. The drawer under the stove falls off its track, and you can't get the damn drawer back in right, no matter how much you try, cry, plead or scream.

These things happen to everyone, right? It's not just me, running around, cussing up a storm??

Anonymous Rant

What is up with the Anonymous Assholes? I don't understand why people even take the time to leave comments like this:

"I just stumbled across your blog. To be honest, you sound like a fuckin' asshole. One of those princesses in an apartment building whose shit doesn't stink. Your shit may not stink but your personality sounds like it does."

Seriously, who are these people, anyway? I know I'm not the first person to get comments like this, but it really is annoying. And dammit, I'm going to vent about it. Very few of us ever actually fight back at these anonymous commenters. IMHO, it's gone on long enough. I'm tired of ignoring them.

I'm really wondering what is the point of taking the time to say something mean and undeserved to a stranger. And why they are always anonymous. Even if they used their blogger name, I still don't know who in the hell they are. These people are pussies. Anyone who is afraid of me must be! I can't kill a honeybee without screaming and crying and calling for backup! So, Mr. or Ms. Anonymous, please explain yourself, because I'm confused as to where you are getting off saying shit like this to me or anyone else. Until then, I leave you with the following message:

Dear Anonymous Asshole,

I don't know what your problem is, but if you don't like what you are reading here, just move on to your next victim. I'm sorry that you don't have a life and do nothing but create problems for other people. It must be hard having so much hatred for strangers. If you are bitter about something, then maybe you need to start a blog of your own, because it sounds like you have some unresolved anger issues. Maybe you should put some of that energy to good use and leave people alone. Did you just get dumped or something? What's with the hostility? If I have harmed you, I apologize. I don't see how I could have done so, but I can assure you it was not intentional.

It was really a tongue-in-cheek post. I think my neighbors are generally nice people. Just a little weird and/or sad. Saying or thinking this doesn't make me a "fucking asshole." And I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar with this demographic you are referring to: the princesses who live in apartment complexes who think their shit doesn't stink. I have never observed such a phenomena. Was I supposed to get a free ego trip when I signed my lease? Are apartment girls of royal descent? Are they being tagged and studied in their natural habitat? I certainly hope so. We can't have women with self esteem, honesty or a sense of humor running around!

If you are in the habit of leaving comments like this on random blogs you encounter, it will only be a matter of time until this comes back and bites you in the ass. One day it will be your sister's blog or your friend's blog. Or perhaps your coworker's blog. Karma catches up with everyone eventually. Would you say something like this to a friend of yours? Then why are you saying it to someone who only knows you by the comments you leave? It is just encouraging me to be judgemental of you. Blogs are meant to bring people together, not apart. I'm sorry that you fail to see this and feel the need to be so nasty. I hope you were just in a bad mood and aren't like this all the time to everyone. If you are, I ask that you go elsewhere when you want to vent your frustrations on innocent bystanders.

If you knew me, which you obviously don't, you'd know that I'm a generally nice person who never means any harm in her posts. I try to be honest and open about what I am thinking. But no, I am not perfect and probably piss off the occasional reader. I won't apologize for that, because this is my blog and I live in a country that believes in free speech and the right to one's own opinion. I can assure you, I'm usually a really friendly person who does indeed have stinky shit, among other imperfections. Just please don't tell my boyfriend, because I've convinced him my shit smells like roses. Thanks! -- Love, VB

VH1 Vacation

Ok, spammers have driven me to the limit. Sorry, but I had to turn on the word verifier. I'll talk about that nasty comment in my next post. On to my vacation:

I had the most uneventful vacation ever. I did nothing but eat, sleep, watch TV, read and shop. It was nice, but I don't feel like I've accomplished anything. I hate that feeling.

As you probably know, I had absolutely no business shopping.

Which means I absolutely had to shop. I hadn't gone shopping in at least 4 months. Apparently, I cannot do cold turkey or else I have a relapse:

7 tshirts
2 pairs of shoes
1 new straw purse
1 pair of earrings
$40 worth of Bath & Body Works stuff (stupid semi-annual sale!)
$40 worth of Clinique (I was out of necessities! Really!)
1 new lipgloss (because 52 aren't enough)
3 candles from Yankee candle (I got Greenhouse. It smells freakin' awesome. Like plants. I love planty smells.)

Now, to my credit, some of this stuff were replacements. Some of my tshirts were ancient (as in, 1996 ancient), my old straw purse unraveled and I had some shoes that were falling apart. So not all of this was rampant, credit-abusing shopping.

And you know you are due for shopping when you intentionally throw away all the receipts because you are thinking, "Dammit, I am not having buyer's remorse on any of this! I'm not going to return this stuff because I don't want to. And that's that!"

I need help.

I managed to develop a serious addiction to VH1 over vacation. I think I've seen every episode of VH1 All Access. And this season's Hogan Knows Best. (Does anyone else love that show?) What I want to know is, what happened to Behind the Music? That was a great show. I miss it.

Other than that, I did a little cooking. I took a nap with Sammy every day. I went to the gym. I hung out with Repo, Brunette and K. I went out to dinner a few times. Navy Guy's deployment was delayed a week and so he came into town this weekend and went out to dinner last night with me, K and Repo. Other than that, my vacay was a big yawn.

Repo is good. It's going well. He actually turned to me the other day and said, "You've been doing a lot for me lately. I need to do something for you. How about I take you out to dinner?" [Insert shock and awe here.] I swear the man can read my mind. Last night we had so much fun. We drove all over town, drinking milkshakes and looking at cars. (He's looking to buy a new-ish car soon.) Then he took me over to where his house is. He owns it, but he rents it out so he can make extra money on the side. He's so good with money. Stuff like that wouldn't even occur to me. And even if it did, I'd probably mess it up. But it was nice to finally see something that I keep hearing about. His house is so cute.

Re: The job fair. On a whim, I checked out the teacher's job fair. It was pretty frustrating. First of all, there were about 9.4 million people crammed into a building meant to only hold about 1 million people. So it was really hot and stuffy. Then no one would give me the time of day because I'm not certified. One lady actually handed back my resume! I couldn't believe it. It was very discouraging to look at the instructions for how to get certified. It's a 3 year process, involving courses which I'd have to pay for all by myself. On top of taking about a $5,000 paycut. How do people do this??? I mean, are they kidding? After looking at the payscales and certification process, I thought, "I'm sorry, but you have to convince me to quit my current job!" And I left soon after.

I was very discouraged and feeling unsure of myself and depressed about my career path. I went to Repo's house where he let me cry on his shoulder. He gave me a pep talk. I felt better. Boyfriend points scored: 20

So I went to the library to get some books which I'm hoping will help me out. My favorite one is entitled something along the lines of, "I don't know what I want to do, but I know it's not THIS." (I'm reading that one first.)

But before I could check anything out, I had to pay my library fines: $20.40. How humiliating: the librarian with an outrageous library fine.

Speaking of the library...I applied for a (much needed) part-time job at the local public library. The manager is a very cool lady who adores me. Now, considering that I used to work for this library, and left on good terms, you'd think I would have an easy time getting a job there. Well, apparently not. The job has been posted and re-posted and even advertised in the newspaper, and I haven't gotten so much as a phone call. Just a postcard confirming the receipt of my application. I'm puzzled. Any theories?

The Neighbors

I have been meaning to share about my Neighbors. There's nothing like an apartment complex to bring out the weirdos.

Next door to us is The Crackhead. We all avoid her like the plague. She comes off as either really drunk or on some heavy painkillers--or both. I can say that because she is very much like me when I'm on vicodin. Anyway, she's like this all day, every day. She is really nosy and will talk your ear off about her personal life. She never remembers anyone's names. I am going to start telling her a different name every time she asks me what my name is, just so I can mess with her.

She is going through a divorce right now. Surprised? Me neither. I'd put her age at early 50s, but due to her lifelong inebriated stupor, I'm sure she's much younger.

She is a total space cadet. She will leave her car doors open, or her groceries by the front door. For hours. We almost stole her groceries once because we honestly thought she'd never miss them. How funny would that have been? We have seen her sitting in her car, fiddling with her hair for 45 minutes at a time. At 3 am. When she's obviously going to go to bed soon. It makes no sense.

We always know she's going somewhere because she is will be carrying cigarettes, coffee and a big bottle of medicine.

She always asks me if I have been fighting with my boyfriend, because she can hear yelling through the walls. I haven't been fighting with anyone and neither has K, so it's tempting to reply, "No, Ma'am. Those are just the voices in your head you are hearing."

Creepy Nice Guy lives across the breezeway from us. I think he has a girlfriend. But I really don't know what she looks like, because she doesn't come over all that much. I think she is the *ahem* bigger girl that comes over sometimes. She's really friendly and nice. She seems normal. I have never seen another guy at his apartment. I am wondering if the gaggle of girls (including the girl I believe is the girlfriend) who are there sometimes are all her friends?

Anyway, he is really quiet. He's nice enough--he loves Sammy. He makes small talk if I happen to run into him on the sidewalk. But there is something about him that gives me the creeps. He's quiet. Too quiet. He will sit on his patio, smoking cigarettes. But he is so quiet, you will walk right by him and not even know that he is staring at you. He knows my name. He knows my dog's name. Why not say hi? It gives me the heebie-jeebies. He will do this at all times of the day or night. He only talks if he's on the sidewalk. Once he's on his porch, he turns into Creepy Silent Guy.

My other neighbor is Hot Neighbor. Repo is jealous of him, I think. This is stupid to me, because I don't give him grief when he goes to strip clubs. Hot Neighbor (who is now "Only Kinda Cute Neighbor" to Repo) is no threat at all to Repo. He is just nice to look at. That's it. I don't really wish I was single when I see him. Sheesh. Besides, Hot Neigbor has no idea I am alive. He's never even petted Sammy or asked me what my name is. Anyone that doesn't pet my dog is deemed Uncool in my book, anyway. So he's hot, yet uncool. This is not enough for him to be a threat to Repo, who adores Sammy. HN's out of town a lot (not that I keep track of his whereabouts or anything, I swear!) so I think he must have a long-distance girlfriend. Case closed.

Sweet! 5:30. I can go home and REALLY begin my vacation. Bye! Have good weeks, everyone! Wish me luck at the Job Fair tomorrow!

Are those Double Ds?

Yup. I'm at work. Again. So far, I've been at work each day of my vacation. It's really not a big deal unless I start thinking about it a lot. Let's move on to more interesting stuff before I get pissed off.

My shirt smells like purfume. Purfume that isn't mine. It's weird. I mean, it smells good, just foreign. I wonder what I was doing last time I wore this shirt. ( I don't wash something unless it's been worn a zillion times, has something on it or smells really bad. Sue me.)

Repo's friends were in town this weekend for a wedding. So I got to meet a bunch of them. They are a wild crew, let me tell ya. Friday night I didn't go to bed until 4am. We hung out with Repo's friend B and his girlfriend. They are cool. It turns out that B and Repo have this whole fashion competition going on. They both love to buy colored button-down shirts and matching ties. Most of the evening they kept describing potential wedding outfits to each other, trying to decide who had the coolest outfit in mind. They even had a debate about whether or not a lavender tie would match a pink shirt.

I swear, sometimes I think my boyfriend is gay.

The next day (yesterday), after working, I hung out at the pool with K for a while. Normally, I am pasty white because I don't want to look old before my time, but on an impulse, I laid out with her. I'm on vacation, goddammit, I thought. After an hour, I looked like a lobster. Not bad, but definitely pink. I don't think my stomach has seen the light of day in like 4 years. No joke. I forgot how good a tan looks, actually. I feel slightly hot-babe-ish. Not to mention slightly thinner. Aaaaah, the magic of melanoma.

The wedding was yesterday evening. Repo wasn't allowed to bring a guest, so I just told him I'd meet up with him after the reception. They were all planning to go to the bars later. Since I had lots of time to get ready, I made a nice dinner (whole-wheat pasta, Prego, shrimp and feta) and decided to get dressed up. I figured everyone would be in suits and ties, so I should look the part. I decided to audition my new red dress. The way it's designed, you can't wear a bra with it. So it's kinda low-cut. It did a good job at masking my new tan lines, too. Bonus: it's really really comfortable. It was so nice to look nice. I hadn't really gotten gussied up in a while. And if I do say so myself, I looked pretty smokin'. Repo agreed. I think this might be his new favorite outfit on me.

I got to the hotel where the reception was. I called Repo to see which room he was in, but then I figured that the loud group of people in the parking lot were probably with me. I was right. I looked over and waved to him.

Repo shuffled me around, yelling to all his friends, "Hey! Come here! I want you to meet my girlfriend!" He was so cute, running around after everyone, making sure I could meet them. He scored some points, I gotta say. He kept telling everyone how beautiful I was. I had to take it with a grain of salt since he'd been drinking. But hey, a compliment is a compliment.

We went inside to where the reception was wrapping up. Just to collect everyone for the after-party. I didn't want to go in because I wasn't invited and I was wearing red. Everyone reassured me that it was ok. And the happy couple left within minutes of us going inside. But I still felt like a wedding crasher. Oops. The bride probably saw me and thought, "Who in the hell does this bitch think she is?"

After much hemming and hawing, we decided to just stay in B's hotel room and party there rather than go the bars. Repo's friends are pretty funny and gave me a hard time. Actually, they all took turns giving each other a hard time, too.

I was put on the spot a couple of times by his (highly intoxicated) friend, Chief. Chief had been drinking for 11 hours straight at this point, so he was at the point that he didn't care what he said or who he offended. He kept asking me questions about my boobs. Then he asked Repo about my nipples and what sexual positions we prefer. I wanted to hide. I'm usually pretty good about taking jokes, but I was starting to get a little self-conscious. I wouldn't have felt that way if I knew everyone in the room, but I had just met all of them and now had to discuss my breasts. I was beginning to regret my wardrobe decision. But I think I was a pretty good sport. I like his friends, despite their drunken interrogations. I told Repo he owes me for that, though.

Since he and I were exhausted, we went home by 1:30. I didn't get up until noon. I am still exhuasted. And I'm not wearing that dress around drunk people ever again!

Meme Stolen from K

Got this from K's Myspace page. She is the best roommate ever. I love her. Because she lets me gank stuff from her blog.

Have You Ever...

Taken a picture naked?
No, but a nippled slipped out once. Semi-intentionally. (I was sending the photos to my boyfriend at the time).

Danced in front of your mirror naked?
Yes, but only until my boobs started hurting.

Told a lie?
Yes. But not very well. So I don't do it anymore. Now I'm like George Washington.

Had a one night stand?
Uh...no comment.

Been in a fist fight?
OMG, no way. I am the biggest wuss ever.

Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back?
Hasn't everyone? It is the worst pain ever.

Been arrested?
No, unfortunately I am somewhat of a goody-goody.

Fooled around in your parents house?
In their house, in their car, in their bed....(it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it grosses me out. A lot.)

Ditched school to have sex?
Never. Goody goody.

Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex..
Yes, but only for sleepover purposes. All very G-rated. Except for that one time when we had a pillow fight in our underwear and made out afterwards. Kidding.

Seen someone die?
Yes, my dad. Very surreal and scary.

Kissed a picture?
Yes. But not since like 7th grade.

Slept in until 3pm?
Only if I were very sick or hungover (back in the day)

Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?
Not since I was a kid. I used to do it with my brothers and we would argue about what the clouds looked like.

Played dress up?
Every time I go out!

Fallen asleep at work/school?
Never at work, often at school.

Touched a snake?
Yes. Once is enough.

Ran a red light? Yes even though I am a big hypocrite. It is very dangerous and causes lots of accidents.

Had detention? again, Goody Goody-ish.

Been in a car accident?
At least 4 times.

Pole danced?
Ooh! No, but good idea!

Been lost?
Yes, but only when people give me bad directions. Then I look at the map and figure it out on my own. Some people can't give directions.

Sang karaoke?
Yes. Usually Al Green or B-52s. Or Madonna.

Done something you told yourself you wouldn't?
Um, all the time. Life would be pretty boring if I didn't. Then I'd be hard-core Goody Goody. That's no fun.

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?
Yes. Ouch.

Caught a snowflake on your tongue?
Yes. Again, once is enough. I love hot weather.

Kissed in the rain?
Actually, I don't think I've ever done this. Another good idea.

Sang in the shower?
All the time!

Ever gone to school without underwear?
Once I went to school without a bra on. Seventh grade. Don't ask me how I forgot. I'm a dumbass.

Sat on a roof top?
Yes. Probably to chuck stuff at people below.

Played chicken?
I play it in every relationship I've ever been in. Relationships are a series of Chicken Competitions, I think.

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?
No, which is ironic because I'm one of the few people who wouldn't care all that much. I'd probably laugh and then get the instigator wet!

Broken a bone?
Yes, my left metatarsal. (foot) It's funny, because it aches right before it starts raining. No joke.

Mooned/flashed someone?
I can't believe I have never done this. Well, not to a stranger. Just a boyfriend once.

Had sex with your socks on?
There is nothing sexy about socks. They are totally "verboten" in the bedroom. I will stop the show to make the guy take them off.

Slept naked?
Yes. I would do it every night, but now I have a roommate, so it doesn't seem appropriate. Plus, I worry that if the house were to catch fire, I'd be running out onto the parking lot naked. In front of firemen. Actually....now that I think about it, that wouldn't be too bad...

Played a prank on someone?
This is something I need to do more often. I'm sure I have, but I don't recall the last time.

Felt like killing someone?
Yes. It was probably a man. Or The Czarina.

Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry?
No, apparently I am incapable of encouraging any sort of emotional outpouring from anyone with a Y chromosome.

Cried over someone?
Hello, I do this all the time. If I'm tired or hormonal, I will be cranky and over-analyze everything. I will invent all these ideas in my head where Repo actually hates me. And I start the waterworks. This is, obviously, annoying and frustrating for him. So Repo has set up "No Crying Zones" to get me to stop. He'll say, "This is a No Crying Zone! You can't cry here!" It makes me laugh. Then I stop crying. So it works. He's awesome.

Had sex more than 10 times in one day?
Yup! I think we made it to 12 actually...and no, it wasn't Repo.

Had/Have a dog?
YES!!! Sammy Baby!!!

Been in a band or played an instrument?
Violin. 10 years. I was in the orchestra. Even the Band Geeks were cool to us.

Taken more than 10 shots of alcohol?
If I ever did, I don't remember...

Shot a gun?
Yes. And everyone in my family is a decent shot, so don't piss us off! Note: just because I know how to shoot a gun doesn't mean I am comfortable being around them. They make me nervous.

Played strip poker?
I don't think so. But I probably should....

Setting The Record Straight

Just in case you are as bored as I am and you Google me, you need to know that the following people are not me:

This VB (Anyone who knows me personally will laugh when they see what this girl's about! Same name, yet my total opposite!) is not me--she appears to be brunette, for Pete's sake.

This VB isn't me either. Although some people think I am part Asian, I assure you I am 100% Honkey. Plus, I am not all that into photography.

Although I am quite fond of my boobs, I can most definitely assure you that I am not a topless model from the 1950s. [Warning: this link is not appropriate for work or children.]

I did not just die in March. I am not from Nebraska. Please don't call me "Virgie".

But I did learn that there is a song about me. And I must say, I am flattered.

This was kinda fun. Anyone else have funny Google hits?

Back-up Plan

Since I'm stuck at work while I'm supposed to be on my vacation (see below), I will now proceed to blog whatever the hell I want because I am really pissed off. Deal.

Last night I was home alone. Since I was having one of my bi-monthly freakouts about job/money/career issues, Repo was sweet enough to come over and calm me down. Again. (We didn't go out until later.)

We were talking about retirement and investing, etc. He asked me why I wasn't on track to buy a house any time soon. He already has one and is looking to buy a second one by the end of the year. I told him that aside from the fact that making gigantic purchases freaks me out, it would be admitting defeat. He looked puzzled. So I explained to him that it's part of my Back-Up Plan. The alternate lifestyle I will lead in case I never get married. Since I'm 27 and most of my friends are married (or at least divorced or engaged), I have to realize: It might not happen for me. It is a possibility that I will be an old maid. And the sooner I plan for it, the better it will be when I finally face reality. So I have thought of all the fun stuff I'd like to do just in case.

Do you have a contingency plan in case you don't get married? I do. It goes something like this:

I wait until around age 40 to buy a house. This is because I really view buying a house as something you do when you are married. So to buy one now feels like I am admitting defeat. Silly, I know. Plus, I figure by then I will have a set career and be financially stable enough to pull it off. Right now, that isn't really possible unless I totally eliminate all fun money in my budget. This is not an option.

I will own at least 6 dogs, all of varying breeds and sizes. I am not a fan of cats, so I would just become a dog lady. I will love and adore them and adopt strays on the side of the road in addition to saving pound puppies and/or rescue purebreds.

I may or may not be a foster mom. I've always loved kids, and since I wouldn't be having any of my own, this would be the next best thing. Also, there is something about orphan kids that just tugs at my heartstrings. If I'm ever First Lady, my platform will be about adoption reform. This country is really messed up in that way, I think.

(This is my favorite part) Since I will be single, it really doesn't matter what I look like, so I will allow myself to get as plump as I desire. Most weight gain will come from ice cream, my own cooking and baking. I will become an awesome cook and throw dinner parties all the time. Playing hostess is one of my favorite things to do.

Since I get to keep all my income for myself, I will have enough money to buy that red convertible I've always wanted and take a few real vacations (like, the kinds that make your friends jealous). And living alone means that my makeup and shopping budget won't be compromised. I can buy as many shoes and as much Clinique as I want! Woo-hoo!

Actually...this is sounding pretty good. Maybe I won't get married, after all. I mean, why not avoid diapers, right? Now, if only I can break the news to The Czarina...

Total Bullshit

It's 9am on a Saturday.

I'm at work.

I'm not supposed to be here. I'm on vacation.

But the weekend girl called in sick, and I'm the person who has to cover in situations like this.

To boot, my boss is mad at me. The weekend girl couldn't find my phone number, even though I know I have given it to her. So she calls our boss to get it. Boss calls me at 7am this morning, pissy that I haven't made my cell number more readily available. She thinks I'm a slacker. But I know I have given it to her at least twice.

What's really nice is, I just went to bed 5 hours ago. I partied like a rockstar last night. I'm still wearing my makeup, actually. I think I am going on 3 hours of sleep.

Did I mention that no one ever comes into this library on Saturdays? Which means it is stupid for anyone to even be here, much less me. This is the third time I've subbed on a Saturday, and not once has a single person ever come in here.

Oh, cool. I just remembered I get comp time for this. Well, that's something.

Thank God for McDonald's drive-thru breakfast. Their new chicken biscuit is delish.

But this is still bullshit.

Vacation!

It's all I ever wanted. I have to get away.

...or not.

I am broke. Which means my vacation will be spent on my couch or filling out job applications. Fun times.

But that's ok. It gives me time to do stuff like this:

--organize my closet/files
--find a used desk (hello, yard sales!)
--hang up pictures
--go to the art museum (I have lived here 4 years and still haven't been!)
--sleep in
--read a lot of books
--cook
--watch some movies
--hit the gym
--catch up on some blogs
--mess with my pictures/scrapbook
--take lots of long walks with Sammy
--catch the sales at the mall (without money...this is challenging...)
--find a part-time job (I was going to donate plasma until I learned that it is painful. Dang! Back to the drawing board!)

I have thought about going to visit The Czarina, but I'm already planning a trip at the end of the month. Plus, there's never any good food at her house and it's impossible to sleep in there. There is also this little thing...I am kind of annoyed with her right now. I will post about it later. It's a long story. But every girl's mom drives her nuts, right? I'm sure you understand. However...there is a chance she would take me shopping....hmmmm...

I could also check out last-minute deals on travel sites...or visit nearby friends, like Charleston Guy...or hit the beach for the day....we will see.

I've been trying to line up something with Lady Starfish. But she's busy with the Covered Bridge Festival held this weekend in her hometown. Features of this 40th annual event include:

--"toe-tapping" music, featuring The Incahoots Dance team and the Trailblazer Cloggers (I myself would actually like to go to Bluegrass Night.)
--The Mr. and Little Miss Hillbilly contest
--free fishing for the kids

If you go, you'll see Lady Starfish, representing her bank. She will be making the rounds, accompanied by a guy dressed up as a giant $100 bill. Very cool way to spend the weekend.

You gotta love Small Town America. There are festivals like this all over the rural south, y'all. Just in SC alone we have the following:

Peach Festival
Okra Strut
Poultry Festival
Grits Festival
Cooter Fest (Sorry, I have no idea what that is)
Albino Skunk Bluegrass Festival
Watermelon Festival (2)
Sweet Potato Festival (2)
Oyster Festival (2)
Maize Days
Gopher Hill Festival
The Cotton Crawl
Shrimp Festival (2)
Coastal Cajun Festival
BBQ/Shag Festival
Chitlin' Strut
Farm Festival
Pumpkin Festival
Azalea Festival

Whew! That's a lot. I guess we just love our agriculture down here. There's always yummy food at all of these, btw. Ever had fried okra? Don't knock it 'til ya try it.

Actually, I might be able to hook up with Lady Starfish next weekend. *crosses fingers*

In other news...Repo's roommate is now the current abscess victim. No joke. You are next. He's out to infect the world, I am telling you.

I have a splitting headache. It's because I made the oh-so-intelligent decision to skip my morning coffee all week, and now my caffeine-addicted blood vessels are throbbing in retaliation. Nothing seems to make this go away--caffeine, Excedrin, sleep, nothing. It's almost as bad as a migraine.

Since I don't feel well, I will be giving Sammy a bath, reading my book, watching my favorite ghost show on the Travel Channel and going to bed early. Woo-hoo! What an exciting vacation! Man, I am getting old.

I will try to post next week, but I can't make any promises! Have a great weekend everyone. Oh, and here is a great Fun Friday link for you. I got it from Gypsy. This may be the most hilarious thing I've ever read. I will definitely keep an eye on this blogger.

Dorothy...

We're not in Kansas anymore.










So I volunteered to go to Wally World for the coworker who had the very unexpected baby. I was going to buy baby stuff for her on behalf of my office.

I had a list. I had money. I thought I was mentally prepared to do this, considering I have no children and can feel my ovaries shriveling on a regular basis. Being an experienced babysitter and an oldest sibling, I figured, "No sweat. How hard can it be? I already know what all this stuff is."

Until I encountered Butt Paste. Ok, seriously, could they not think of a better name than this? And look at the baby on the box. It has this expression on its face like, "Oh my God. My career has a new low. I am Baby Butt Paste. I guess I can forget that Gerber job I had lined up. I vow to hate my mother forever."

And with the fancy French name, you'd think they would want something to go along with it, something more elegant than Butt Paste. Maybe even just a Frenchier spelling: Le Butte Pastille or Creme de la Buttoque. Or even La Diapre Plasteur. How about Ointment pour les Derriere Rasheaux?

This is the ultimate gag gift, I think. Someone should have given it to me when I had my butt problems!

I wonder if this stuff makes your butt minty fresh? Or if it whitens? Perhaps it prevents gingivitis of the ass? Or butt decay? Maybe it uses baking soda to eliminate odor? Instead of "BAM!" would you run far away from your sleeping baby and yell "BUTT!"? Butt plaque prevention would be key, I think. Because sometimes I worry that just using toilet paper alone isn't enough. And maybe even finishing up with some Butt Floss, just to get in those little nooks and crannies.

Anyway, I got a bunch of stuff. It was kinda fun, in a "I can pretend it's my baby!" kind of way. Actually, it was kind of nerve-wracking and overwhelming. Did you know there are approximately 45,000 choices of pacifiers? And that they come in different shapes and sizes? I didn't. When I was in that aisle, I noticed another girl there, who looked as overwhelmed as I did. It turns out she was in the same situation as I was.

Together, we tried to decipher diaper labels and determine the difference between socks and booties. (Is there a difference?) I figured that newborns basically eat, sleep and poop, so as long as we focused on those three life functions, we had our bases covered.

I left the Butt Paste where I found it.

P.S. They have a website. The testimonials are great. Some quotes:

"I love the Butt Paste and will never use anything else again...will always recommend the Butt Paste to everyone."

"...my daughter gave no protest when I applied it to her bottom and genital area." (I bet she didn't, that little tramp!)

"I will now invest in the 16 oz. tub." (I am really wondering why you would need a whole pound of this stuff. It sounds like there is more going on than just diaper rash.)

According to their website, the following athletes have used this product with much enthusiasm: Mike Ditka, Shaquille O'Neal, Peyton Manning and Lance Armstrong. Funny how I missed that little trivia fact on ESPN.

It's also available in handy one-gallon jugs.

Oh, and they sponsor a NASCAR team.

Late Thursday 13

Thirteen Things about My Dog Sammy 1. He sometimes sleeps in funny positions. (see picture) He snores very loudly. 2. He is a picky eater-- he will pick out the kibbles that he likes and eat those first. He only eats the bone-shaped ones if he has to. He only likes certain treats. 3. He lives for his squeaky toy. 4. He hates going outside in the rain, but tolerates bathtime. 5. He is afraid of cats, venetian blinds and thunder. 6. When he poops really hard, his weiner comes out. It looks like a wet, red noodle. 7. He uses the couch as a towel when he's wet. 8. When he drinks too much water too quickly, he barfs. 9. He poops in a circle, rather than a pile like most dogs. So he walks in a circle and squeezes at the same time. It looks really funny. 10. He really likes Missy Elliot's song, "One Minute Man." He kept tilting his head in time to it. Now I play it for him when we are in the car. 11. He loves ice cream. And ginger snaps. And marshmallows. But not Kellog's Corn Pops. This makes no sense to me. 12. He adores men and ignores me when they are around. You would think that he wouldn't identify with men all that much, considering he has no nuts. 13. One time, Sammy humped a slut. She must have smelled humpy to him, I guess. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

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Surprise!

Holy Cow!

I get to work this morning, and everyone is all in a tizzy.

It turns out that one of my coworkers is having a C-section as I am typing this.

The kicker?

She didn't know she was pregnant.

Yeah, she found out like 2 days ago. At 8 and a half months. How amazing is that? How do you miss something like that? I mean, what do you imagine that giant bulge in your tummy is? How can you just not notice your periods have totally stopped? Don't you feel tired or hungry? What about the morning sickness? Didn't the baby kick? No dizzyness or fainting? Nothing?

In her defense, she and her husband have had some majorly stressful financial things happening to them lately. She probably thought the lack of menstruation was just stress. (That has happened to me before, so I can understand that.) And...she's kind of a big girl, so I can see how she could have missed the tummy bulge.

But she's had 3 kids already. You'd think she'd be a pro at diagnosing herself.

This is totally weird. We are all just jaw-dropping over here.

We are also scrambling around to find stuff for her. She just gave away all her baby stuff since her youngest is in kindergarten! We are thinking diapers, diapers, diapers. That is probably #1 on the "What do you get for a surprise baby?" list.

Feeding Frenzy

Hey. I'm finally giving Bloglines a try. Since my blog list is pretty much out of control, this will help me tremendously as I won't spend large quantities of time visiting blogs that aren't updated.

It's kinda like Blogrolling, but I can add whatever else I want in addition to blogs (news updates, movie reviews, daily weather report, etc.). What can I say? I'm an All-In-One-Place kinda girl.

If you don't know what in the holy heck I'm talking about, you can read about it in Blogger Help. You can adjust your site feed options from your Dashboard, under Settings, I think.

So...if you are willing to have a site feed on your blog, I'd appreciate it. If not, no worries. It's your call. Also, if you have one and I'm too stupid to figure out where it is, please tell me. I'm kinda new at this. (Is there a way to subscribe without a link/button to use?)

Here are the blogs I've managed to subscribe to via feeds, if I'm doing this right:

Bad Girl's Guide
Becky's Blog
Columbia Chatterbox
Crumbs
Dating Dummy
Grateful Dating
Modigli
Mysterious Meander
Ninja Nate
No Day But Today
Pickleness
Sex & Moxie
Tired of Men

Thanks. Appreciate it. :)

The Weekend That Friendship Forgot

I had a wonderful Girls Night on Friday. I met up with T & L (The Teachers). They were the first friends I made when I moved to Columbia. We don't see a lot of each other because they live on the other side of town and they have hubbies and babies. But I'm crazy about them.

I brought my roommate K with me. The four of us were going to eat dinner and then go see The Break-Up. If you have been planning to see this movie and like happy endings, I would recommend that you save your money. It is basically a movie about a couple fighting. To quote Roper, "It's like being on the double date from hell." All they do is fight, and it is depressing and a real bummer. It will just remind you of all your past breakups.

But I digress.

So K and I meet up with everyone. Well, I had forgotten that L has recently grown a second half, much like the School Nurse in South Park. No, I am not referring to her super sweet husband. And no, she's not pregnant. But she does, indeed, have a second half. It's her neighbor, The Frigid Snoot. Frigid Snoot is permanently velcroed to L's hip. About a year and a half ago, Frigid Snoot became friends with L. What began as just another friendship between two adult women has turned into the biggest, most obsessive Girl Crush I've ever seen. They even refer to each other as "my wife". Normally, I would not even notice this as I'm not a jealous friend. (My friend philosophy is The More the Merrier).

But Frigid Snoot is really mean and rude to L's other friends. And we've all noticed it independently. Then we compare notes in the ladies' room. (Even K, who was meeting all of these girls for the first time picked up on Frigid's attitude, without any heads up from me.) Frigid Snoot ignores us until she is forced to talk to us and even then she won't make eye contact or participate much in the conversation. She only talks to L. She has never said anything nice to me or T. Frigid Snoot thinks her s--t don't stink and tries to dominate all of L's time. She seems to resent the fact that L has lots of friends outside of her. For some reason, L is oblivious to all of this.

This is why T and I hadn't seen L in almost a year. And I for one, am sick of it. And apparently so is T because she seems really apathetic about remaining friends with L.

Ok, so back to the story. I had only met Frigid Snoot once before, about a year ago. So I remembered her name and recognized her face, but couldn't remember why I didn't like her. Then, when she opened her mouth, I remembered why.

I asked her where she worked, and it turns out she is an assistant to Dr. Nazi. So I half-jokingly quipped, "Oh! Your boss is Dr. Nazi! I hate your boss!"

Yes, I realize this would put some people on the defensive. But I didn't mean any harm. I figured everyone must hate her. She is evil, after all.

So Frigid Snoot asks why, and I tell her about my very painful mole removal. Frigid completely denied that Dr. Nazi would ever do such a thing without novocaine. Since I was the actual patient in this particular mole extraction, I felt that I was somewhat of an expert about what went on in that exam room that day. We argued back and forth until I just dropped it, disgusted at the lengths to which Frigid Snoot would go just to make me look bad. Whatever.

So she was just a peach to have around at dinner. I took particular delight in telling her that I have a wonderful boyfriend of four months while she has been single well over a year. Maybe if she would break free from L for a few minutes and sweeten up long enough to get a guy to buy her a drink she might meet someone!

Repo thinks I'm jealous. I am. To an extent. I just don't understand why Frigid Snoot is on a mission to prevent L from having any other friends. Can't we all just get along?

But I am not only a victim of bad friendship this past weekend. Oh no. You see, I am just as guilty of being a bad friend as Frigid Snoot. Before you think that this blog is all one-sided and pro-VB (what? no! never!), let me tell you about my most recent screw-up.

Remember the wedding I went to? Where Blonde got drunk? And we took pictures of her? If not, read about it here. Anyway, as I predicted, she saw the photo.

I had specifically selected that particular photo because it was A) blurry, B) didn't show her face and C) didn't show her barfing. I thought I was being considerate about her anonymity. Her name is not used anywhere on this blog. I don't even say what hospital she works at. No one knows who is in the picture. Except me and Brunette. And it's not like my blog is discussed on the evening news or has been forwarded to her family. It's basically unknown to the general populace. The thing is, the only people who know her AND read this blog are Brunette (who was there) and Repo, who would never think less of her for it. He likes her. We've all seen her drunk before. I thought it was just a harmless ribbing of my friend. Sort of a "ha ha! Look at my drunk friend! She's so funny!" I was just teasing her.

Well.....she didn't think it was so funny. In fact, she's pissed at me right now. I knew she might be a little embarrassed, and get sick of the teasing from me and Brunette, but I never ever would have done that to piss her off. Definitely not my intention. I guess I misunderstood her sense of humor. I don't want her to be pissed at me, but at the same time, I fail to see why her panties are all in a bunch. She has definitely been drunk in public before. I'm sure this isn't the only drunk picture ever taken of her. So I really fail to see the big deal. The way I see it, if you don't want people taking pictures of you when you are drunk, then don't get drunk. She was so freaked out about people at the wedding seeing her drunk. But only Brunette and I and a couple of her girlfriends even knew she was drunk! It's not like I'm going to print them out and send them to the Mother of the Bride (who got so drunk at the wedding that she fell off the stage, btw!).

Some of my friends have looked at the photo and said, "I don't get it. What's the big deal? Why would anyone be pissed about that?"

It's not like I submitted it to Girls Gone Wild or something. Is she overreacting, or am I being insensitive?

Repo's Concerns

In case you haven't been reading lately, I just told my boyfriend (Repo) about my blog. It was a lot to take in for him, but it's been going pretty smoothly for the most part. He keeps saying "I haven't decided if I'm mad at you or not." This would be more of a threat if he actually acted angry. Which he's not. He's just been asking a lot of questions, which is what I expected. But just to soothe him over, I am kissing his ass big time. Until further notice. Or until I get really sick of doing it and tell him to bite me. Whatever comes first.

I actually think this has brought us closer, because there are things he didn't know about me and this has opened up the way for us to talk about some stuff that I'm naturally hesitant to talk about. It's kind of nice, because I really want him to know everything about me. There are very few people I can say that about. It means I trust him and want to be emotionally intimate with him. (Ew, that was corny. I can't believe I just used that phrase.) Plus, now he knows exactly how neurotic and nerdy I really am. And he reminds me on a daily basis. As if he needed fuel for the fire.

However, he (naturally) has a lot of questions about everything. And I'm having a hard time answering some of them. You can read my replies and tell me what you think. Let's make a list, shall we? (You know I love lists.)

1. Why do you share your personal life with total strangers?

(This was hard to explain. Why do we blog?) Well, it's really like having a diary that people can comment on. I like knowing that I'm not crazy. It's comforting to read things and know I'm not the only one who thinks like that. Plus, I need a space where I can vent my troubles. Writing helps me sort out my brain. Otherwise, I would be venting oh-so-much-more to Repo and K. It's my little spot in the world where I can be as neurotic as I want.

2. Who reads your blog? Anyone we know?

Yes and no. Some of my girlfriends know about it. But they rarely read it. So that doesn't really count. It's just easier for me to tell them stuff on the phone since they live here in town. I have a couple of guy friends who read this, but they like to play devil's advocate a lot. Plus, they think I'm a moron and/or a silly girl and love to point out that I don't understand men, so I take their comments with a grain of salt. Some other friends read it, but they live out of town, so that doesn't really count either. Lady Starfish reads it religiously. But she knows EVERYTHING about me so she would know all this anyway. I don't think my family or coworkers read it. The Czarina (Mom) definitely doesn't read it. Most people here have no idea who I am in real life.

3. Why do you talk about your exes so much?

Ok...didn't realize I talked about them that much....but whatever. I am a girl, so naturally I over analyze my personal relationships. I have noticed patterns in my dating history, and if I acknowledge them and think about them, I think I can learn from them. I am not hung up on any of them, nor do I harbor any feelings for them at all. It's more of a way to understand myself.

4. Do you really have a crush on your neighbor?

(This one threw me because I honestly thought he was incapable of being jealous. Ever.) I am not going to lie--my neighbor is cute. But if he was any kind of threat to Repo, I wouldn't have opened up about my blog. Duh. Besides, he doesn't know I'm alive. So no, Neighbor is no threat whatsoever. (Plus, Cute Neighbor's stock has declined rapidly lately since Repo has been really awesome. Other men are definitely starting to become invisible to me...only hard-core VB fans know what THIS means. And by "hard-core VB fans" I mean Lady Starfish.)

5. Who are these people and what makes them think they can say stuff about me? They don't even know me.

Ok, I'll give you that one. But for the most part, I think people here like you. And I've been pretty honest about you, too. I haven't exactly sugar-coated everything about you. But since they don't know you, I don't put 100% credit in their comments. Nor would I expect them to give me full credit when I comment on their blogs. The thing is, in relationships, only the two people in the relationship truly know what is going on. So they are making comments without having the full story anyway. They are not going to influence me to any major degree. Like I said, my readers just remind me that I am not crazy or alone. I can think for myself, but they do sometimes offer a refreshing perspective or bring up things I hadn't considered. They are just other bloggers who I have found along the way. I don't know any of them personally. They don't mean any harm.

6. No wonder your mom hates me. She wants to fix you up with Mr. Cool, doesn't she?

(Ok, for some reason, he won't let this one go. We've been over it like 3 times.) I was introduced to him over a year ago. Actually, I think it was 2 years ago. Mr. Cool has no idea I'm alive. Besides, I think he's engaged, last I heard. When he met me he acted like he was being introduced to someone he knew he'd never see again. I doubt he even knows my name, let alone my face. And his lack of enthusiasm went a long way in my final decision: I want to be with a guy who is really impressed with me, right from the start. He wasn't. So he's not worthy. End of story. Besides, if I was that crazy about him, I would A) be looking for jobs in Richmond since he lives there and B) would remain single just in case things were to happen down the road. Another non-threat.

7. Why do you talk about me so much? Why did you talk about my family?

Um...because, Repo, you are important to me and I like you. You should be concerned if I didn't say anything about you. But I leave a lot of really personal stuff out too. [He agreed.] And since I attended your mom's wedding, I did mention how much I like your family after meeting them. I didn't give away any personal family details or names and I said nothing negative. (He wouldn't believe me if he read it, but I had nothing negative to say because I really liked his family! They were all so sweet to me!)

8. So I'm not the hottest guy you've ever dated, huh?

This came from some misunderstood comments between me and Charleston Guy in the Jessica Simpson post. This is another question which I have had to answer a couple of times and he's been teasing me about it a lot. Which is fine. I can see where he's coming from. But hot guys fall into the same category as rich guys. Sure, they seem like a great idea at first, but after a while, you see them for who they really are. Shallow, self-centered and not very good boyfriends. And your criteria change. You are looking for more of an attractive nice guy. Who truly cares about you, has things in common with you and works hard at making you happy. Those are the keepers. And that's what Repo is. (If he is reading this, he is rolling his eyes. I betcha $20.) So, Repo, if you are reading this, all I can say is that I am very very attracted to you, and you know that. But unlike one of my exes, who was very attractive, you have more to offer than just looks. And you never make me go fishing or camping. That makes you a hottie in my book.

9. Why did you freak out so much about Jessica Simpson?

Well, I gotta say, it made me feel pretty insecure to hear that story. Now that you know your current flame has some very attractive exes, how does it feel? I'd love to say I have enough self-confidence to handle something like that, but I guess I don't. I am probably fatter than she and much, much geekier. I don't drive a BMW and I can't drink beers with you. I am like this nerdy, fat girl compared to her. And my inner-insecure-13-year-old self just comes out at times like that. [Ladies, don't we all have an insecure 13 year old inside of us?] I know she's not a threat directly, and I do believe you that it is over, but I can't help but dwell on it a little.

Repo replied: "You aren't giving yourself enough credit."

Awww.

The Dangers of Vicodin

Warning: Do not attempt to bake when under the influences of Vicodin and its derivatives. You will blatantly ignore the recipe directions (The recipe "Doesn't know what it is talking about!") and force the cake out of the pan before it cools. This results in half the cake sticking to the pan. Actually, you won't care because you're on Vicodin.

Warning: Vicodin has also been proven to make certain daily activities 300 times more difficult. These activities include: measuring ingredients for cakes, setting the timer for the baking of said cake, talking to your boss, using the telephone, answering questions, being at work, driving, reading anything other than magazines with lots of pictures, writing, typing, climbing stairs, remembering things and thinking. You are well advised to avoid doing these activities while on Vicodin.


Look, Ma! I took all these pills today! Some of them made me want to barf. But I'm ok.

It was really fun going to work after taking these.

Not really.

Ok, some of them are vitamins, but whatever. That's still a lot of pills.

So now I have a baby abscess. It doesn't hurt as much, it doesn't need to be stuffed. (YESSSS!) But I have to take 3 showers per day with nothing but Ivory soap. (I had forgotten how nice it smells, actually.) Then when I get out of the shower, I have to change the bandage using totally sterile bandages and the special cream. All I heard was SHOWERS.

Have you ever tried to put a sterile bandage on your ass? It's hard. Because I'm not using nice little conveniently pre-stickified Band-Aids. I'm using those gauze pads that need special, separate tape to stick 'em on. There's a lot of twisting and aiming and cursing involved. It's like playing Medical Twister--right hand on ass, left hand on...shit! (That's the part where I miss my boo-boo and drop the sterile bandage on the floor. Then I have to start all over. After I stop my dog from wanting to lick the medicated cream. He is so weird.)

So yeah, everything is normal here inVB Land.

Repo and I were on the phone last night until 1 am. I was (surprise, surprise) freaking out about telling him about this blog. I was convinced he was going to dump me or hate me or something. [Note: This was the Vicodin talking.] Repo now makes jokes that he is looking for a new girlfriend. Ha ha. Mr. Funnybone over here. But we are ok. He was a little freaked out, but we talked about everything and we are fine. I think. Until I do something like that again. Kidding. Really, he was mostly upset about strangers judging him. And a couple of my guy friends judging him. I agree--it isn't really fair considering they don't know him. But for the most part, everyone on here is Pro-Repo. Right? [This is the part where all my readers leave comments that would fall into the Pro-Repo category.]

That's hard to say: Pro-Repo. Hard to type too. Woooooah....still woozy from Vicodin. Can. Not. Look. Down. While. Typing.

He said he kinda wishes I hadn't told him. He doubts he will ever read it again, actually. I think it was a lot to take in. I (of course) am having World's Biggest Guilt Trip and wondering if I did the right thing. It's a little like those people who confess to cheating just to make themselves feel better, I think. I am not speaking from experience, people. But I really think that any communication in a relationship is good. And that feeling of keeping something from him really bugged me.

I'm just amazed at how understanding and patient he is with me. I mean, I would be totally wigging out over something like this. And he is just..a little hurt. But he's fine. He is probably going to stick it to me for a while, though. He called me this morning.

"I hate you because I'm tired." (He got about 5 hours of sleep last night. Oops.)

I apologized. Then he told me that the water main busted at the hotel, so his kitchen was flooding as we spoke. Also, there was some big group of airline pilots (?) checking in all at once and they were being douchebags. Yeah, that made my guilt trip double in size.

I have the best boyfriend ever.

Oh...Hi Honey!

OK, we can all ignore the last post. Turns out the Katie girl is this virus thingie that is spreading all over Myspace.

Repo just called me and told me he got the email. I asked him about Katie. His reply?

"She's my anal lover."

Nice.

Then he told me that he got an invite to be her friend and didn't want to, but it got on his page anyway. He didn't even know about the pictures of her ass. It is just some spam thing. He doesn't even know her and hasn't even gone to her site.

He also asked me about my sore butt. I called him this morning and told him I have another abscess and it hurts. He is worried about me, I think.

My boyfriend is awesome.

I have to say lots of stuff like that all the time now.

Because I told him about my blog.

And he's probably going through the archives right now. Yes, I have a big mouth. Yes, I realize I will now have to censor some things I say. But I've been censoring a lot of stuff already. So the posts probably won't change that much. I had to do it guys. I just felt I was keeping stuff from him and that I was deceiving him. I couldn't take it anymore.

And he's not mad at all.

Did I mention my boyfriend is awesome? (Side note: He really has been sweet lately. I'm not just saying that because he might be reading this. Really, he has! I am super crazy about him.)

I told him that he is totally anonymous on here and that only a couple of my friends read it religiously. 90% of my readers are people who don't know me. And there aren't any pictures of me or him on here. I think that was a relief to him.

Also, most of my girlfriends don't read this. That is because it's easier to just call them on the phone and tell them all the dirty juicy details. :) Ha ha! Kidding.

I didn't give him the URL until he promised me that he won't think less of me or get mad at anything I've written here. I told him this is like my diary and that there isn't much on here that I haven't said to his face. I mean, sure there are a couple of things on here I'd rather he not read. But nothing major. It's all neurotic stuff about me that he would learn anyway. Remember, I have a big mouth.

He thinks it's kinda dorky that I have a blog, but is hoping that he will find lots of stuff on here to tease me about. (He will have TONS of material.) Actually, as we got off the phone, he said he was going to go take a shower. He didn't even seem that interested in reading it. I'm wondering if he will, actually.

So please welcome Repo, everybody. (Hi DW!) <-- inside joke. Note how I kept it private, Repo. :) Aren't you proud?

The Hypocrite (revised and expanded edition)

I found Repo's Myspace page today. I wasn't stalking my boyfriend. I am not a psychotically jealous person. But Navy Guy said that Repo had a page, so I thought I'd look it up to see what he has on it. It was simple curiosity. I was not aware that he had a page. I wanted to read it. Maybe leave a comment or email him. Just to say hi. Excited that he and I could start communicating even more. Thinking it would be a fun way for us to meet each others' friends. So I find it.

One of his "friends" is some 19 year old blonde girl I've never heard of. She lives here in town. That's her, in the photo. Notice how she is grabbing her own boobs. I would have put up the photo she has of her ass but I didn't think that was appropriate. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. The thing is, it's not that I have a problem with him talking to her. I don't feel comfortable telling him what he can and can't do. What bothers me is that I have never heard of her, which makes me think he is hiding something. Plus, Sassafras (thank you, dear) reminded me that Repo once said "Myspace is stupid. I hate all that stuff."

It turns out he's had a Myspace page since February.

I'm sure there is a logical explanation. I don't think anything is going on. I hope. She's probably just a friend. Right? I mean, he spends almost all his free time with me. But I've never heard of Katie. I am at least familiar with all the other friends he has listed. Except the other girl, but she's not grabbing her boobs--she's wearing normal clothes and looks very unthreatening. Plus, she's not his type.

But I didn't want him to think that I was checking up on him or that I don't trust him or something. So I emailed him a short email, explaining how I found him (through Navy Guy's friends) and making a mild joke about Tits McGee up there. And I left it at that.

(Side note: his Myspace page is not dead. He just logged in a couple days ago.)

Knowing me, he told me about his Myspace page and I have forgotten.

He doesn't know about this blog.

But I'm not talking to strange men who live in town and grab their crotches, either.

I'm thinking about telling him about my blog.

And I really can't say anything about what he does on his Myspace page, because I have this secret blog. I am such a hypocrite.

Curiosity killed the cat. I can feel my stomach churning over this. I want to cry right now.

Advice? Opinions? I want to bring this up, but I'm afraid he will think I'm being psycho-stalker girlfriend. But how can I not bring it up? It might be a couple of days before he even checks his Myspace page. I don't think I can wait that long.

Thursday 13

13 Things that are Cute or Annoying About Repo

1. Annoying: He drinks all my diet cokes. And "borrows" my CDs. They are returned scratched.

2. Cute: The way he runs his hands through his hair when he's nervous. [So. Hot.]

3. Annoying: He demolishes my bed when he sleeps in it. As in, I have to tuck all the sheets back in. After I find them. Because he has shoved them down the side of the bed.

4. Cute: How he gets all excited whenever the topic of college football comes up.

5. Annoying: He never vacuums or cleans his room. Ever.

6. Cute: He always asks me if I need anything from the store before he comes over.

7. Annoying: He won't kiss me if I have any lipstick on. Not even lip balm. Not even chapstick. I have to have naked lips to get smooches. This has been a big adjustment for me because I love lipstick. I would wear it to bed if I could.

8. Cute: He always knows how to make me laugh when I'm upset. Example: We were in his car once. I was crying about some stupid situation that I had created in my mind. It was nothing. But I was crying. He stroked my hair and said very matter-of-factly: "Oh, Sweetie. It's ok. But you can't cry in here. My car is a No Crying Zone." This made me burst into giggles.

9. Annoying: He acts like I have leprosy because of my abscess(es). Even though he is the one who gave them to me. He won't touch anything in my room now.

10. Cute: He always tells me to call him if I need anything when I am sick or if I need a ride to the doctor. And then he actually backs it up.

11. Annoying: He is on the South Beach diet. And so he won't eat any carbs. This makes it very hard for us to cook dinner together as he won't eat anything I make. Then he will go out and eat Subway sandwiches. Grrrr....

12. Cute: He makes the most pointless phone calls. He will call me 5 times a day, and four of the conversations go like this on his end: Hey VB! What are you doing? Oh. Cool. Are you having a good day? Good. Well, I'm doing [insert random activity here]. Ok, hey, can I call you back? I'll call you later. Bye." These conversations crack me up.

13. Cute and Annoying: He thinks Huey Lewis and The News is the greatest band ever. *VB gags.*