cotton-headed ninnymuggins

Summary of the last 6 days:

1. Sit in front of tv and half-listen to mindless tv while I half-study.
2. Go on a tear and eat the majority of the contents of the fridge/freezer/cabinets.
3. Resume studying and watching nonsense on tv.
4. Hope that my mom made food, as I have not put on real clothing so as to be able to go to the grocery store. Go eat said food at parents' house.
5. Return home, decide that I don't want to look at anymore books, resort to drinking wine, watching yet more useless crap on tv, and knit.
6. Repeat. (Oh, and insert shower like once every two or three days).

Bad part is, I've only had one exam, I've just had about two weeks off between the end of classes and the start of exams, which is le terrible. I'm just ready for it to be over already, for the love of the dear sweet baby Jesus.

During all this mindless tv-watching, there are things I have discovered.

Namely, watching this commercial makes me homicidal. Now probably, having the urge to start punching 8-year-old girls is a bad sign, but seriously, about the 86th time you see it, you too will jump up from the couch and holler, "ENOUGH ABOUT YOUR EFFING COMFY SWEATER!"

In all things relating to Christmas, however, here is my wish list (so listen up, Santa):
1. An iPhoneeeee...I want it, and I want it now now now. (Picture me going all Veruca Salt right at this moment.) Seriously, I know I am a brat and I got the stupid Sprint Instinct last year because I was a slave to my Sprint contract and they swore to me it was "SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE IPHONE OMG." That turned out to be a dirty, dirty lie because that hunk is basically a touch-screen Razr if you ask me. I have already been planning what apps I am going to get: so far the list includes Grocery IQ because I am lame, Runway, and Pandora. And so, so many more. Which brings me to my next item...

2. This fantastic iPhone case, all hand-tailored for the iPhone (even made to accommodate my plastic shell I am too excited about getting.) Seriously, I have not really been excited for Christmas since I was a kid, because there hasn't been anything I have really wanted in so long!

3. A forget-me-knot ring. They're just so cute.

4. These adorable wall decals. I have a blank, light brown wall behind my couch that really needs something and I think these would be perfect.

5. To hear about a summer internship! I don't know how you're going to swing that one, Santa, but you better start making phone calls. Mama needs a job.

Thanksgiving hangover

I have been the busiest busyface in the world lately and my poor little blog has been neglected. Five dozen deviled eggs later (seriously, not lying), a pecan pie, four dozen garlic cheese biscuits, and a green bean casserole, my poor kitchen has looked like a war zone for the past week. It's just now recovering from smelling like a big egg fart.

But I have big news: we won the The Great Deviled Egg Cook-Off! Nine entries were entered and mother dearest and I emerged victorious.All nine entries - we had mostly your classic deviled eggs (which I also love), but we decided we wanted to go in a different direction with ours.

I ended up being the blind taste-test administrator, which meant I did the big set-up of the eggs with a numbering system and forfeited my vote.



Can you see the rabid look in PB's eyes? He loves eggs. He offered to come help me make them, but I told him no, as that would be like inviting Yogi Bear over to help you pack picnic baskets.

The winning recipe was for bacon ranch deviled eggs - and because I love you all, I shall now give it to you. Personally, I don't want to even see another egg for the next 15 years, but perhaps those of you who have not literally consumed about two dozen eggs in the past four days can enjoy it.

Bacon Ranch Deviled Eggs

Ingredients:
12 hard boiled eggs – peeled
4 tablespoons mayo
2 tablespoons prepared mustard
1 1/2 tablespoons powdered ranch dressing mix
2 minced green onion stalk
6 tablespoons minced bacon

Directions:
1. Cut peeled eggs in half length wise and place yolks in a mixing bowl, set the whites aside. Mash the yolks with the back of a fork and add mayo, mustard, ranch dressing mix, green onion, and bacon. Mix well.

2. Fill whites with mixture.

3. Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour before serving.

In Which We Decide It Would Be a Good Idea to Put a Car on the Porch

As you can tell, for reasons unknown to me, holidays are a big deal around here. Normally, we have a big Santa that we put on my parents' porch, along with one of their Harleys, and attach him to the ceiling with fishing line, such that it looks as if he's riding the hog. We know how to keep it classy.

But this year, we just had to outdo ourselves, so my mom ordered a big fancy new Santa (he is quite fantastic, I must say), and we decided to put him on the porch in the Amphicar. Don't ask me why we have a 1967 amphibious vehicle - just suffice it to say that we are that crazy.

You should probably watch this video just to see how ridiculous we are, and what a poor idea it is to get about 25 rednecks to attempt to put a car on your front porch. It's classic. (Also I like how I got out of working by just propping myself against the house and telling people "I'm recording this!")




Well, the end point you see in the video is as far as we ever got Santa and his darn amphibious sleigh. It just wouldn't make the turn onto the porch. But after all that (and believe me, I have like 30 more minutes of fail video, we tried seriously hard), we just decided we couldn't take it down. And actually, I think I like the end result better than having him all fixed and pretty on the side of the porch like we were shooting for.

So the reason for all the preparing and Christmas decorating and failing at getting Santa on the porch was all in the name of the Christmas parade, which is always the Saturday before Thanksgiving. I think this is silly and way too early, but 'twas ever thus and 'twill ever be so, I am certain.

Somehow I convinced PB to run the pre-parade 5k with me (his first!) and it went pretty well. By no means am I that fast, but I like running in my little slowpoke fashion and it's fun to get out and see everyone lined up and ready to watch the parade.



Please ignore the fact that I appear as if I am death's doorstep. Yes, apparently three miles is just THAT HARD, and makes me look as if I need a transfusion.

The parade was full of amazing entries such as:




If you've never had a Sun Drop (or my favorite, Diet Sun Drop, DSD for short), I am so sorry. You need to order a case, asap. It's sort of like a cross between Mountain Dew and Sprite and it is the perfect soft drink.

Also:
You have a baby...on top of a firetruck? Safety first, guys. Safety first.



What I couldn't capture was the guy in the white cowboy hat twanging out some Christmas songs and saying in a voice that sounded just like one of the Clampetts, "Y'all come on and see us now, y'hear?"

Nor the other church members riding horses and/or giant horned bulls (who are apparently somehow sedated). It was crazetastic.

Now it's on to The Great Deviled Egg Cook-Off (who has interesting/magically delicious deviled egg recipes which I could use to win this thing?) Then there will be delivering Thanksgiving dinner for Meals on Wheels, and family Thanksgiving. Lots to look forward to (including fantastical pictures, I am sure.)

Remember the Milk

As we all know, I am certainly not the world's most organized person. And by that I mean I am not organized at all. I always have little pieces of paper floating around, I'm perpetually digging for my keys, my trunk is full of crap that arrived there in high school (no joke, I know there are high school textbooks in there, I can't even bring myself to open it and look).

SO, with that in mind, if there are others of you who are similarly handicapped (really, it's a disease), I have a fantastical new thingymawhoosit for you. Bright and shiny! In time for Christmas!

It's called Remember the Milk and it is just fantastic. You can make different categories of to-do lists and they also have an awesome app to add to your Google calendar. If you have an iPhone (shut your big privileged piehole if you do, because I am 32 shades of JEALOUS), there's apparently an app for that.

Personally, I have categories for class, shopping, household things, and randomness. Really, I do call it randomness. So I stick a to-do task on there, and then RTM will send me an IM/email/SMS when it's time for my lazy hind end to do said task.

So get your lazy hind end on RTM and get some shiz done, yo. I'm going to make a Christmas to-do list this week (would it be strange to have a to-do list item that reads "make to-do list"? Probably.)

Just another little commuting sheep

Every morning (well, and afternoon, for that matter), I drive about 40 minutes to get to the law school. There are days when I don't mind my drive at all, for various reasons. I have enough time to get to school without stressing (note: this happens like twice per semester), I'm really into whatever music happens to be on the radio/my iPod, traffic doesn't suck and I can actually drive at a normal pace, and no one makes me wish I had a shotgun.

There are days, however, in which my commute makes me want to punch a nursery full of babies. There are days in which I don't allow myself nearly enough time to get to school, and that always seems to coincide with the days traffic sucks, which turns me into a big stressface. Also, I don't know why, but no matter what time I get up, I can almost NEVER get out of the house at a reasonable time, meaning that I am almost always driving like I'm flippin' Ricky Bobby in Talladega. Seriously, I am all trying to draft as I go down the interstate in the hopes that it will get me to school faster.

Further, it's always a good thing when the radio decides to play real music while I drive to school, versus all the yapping that normally goes on. I do not understand people who enjoy morning radio. Sometimes I can handle NPR, because it is all seriousface and I have ZERO sense of humor in the morning. There are all these people on the radio around here, yapping their faces off at each other and then hysterically laughing at just how hysterical they are for like 20 seconds straight. I find myself yelling at them like I'm back in 4th grade, things like "SHUT UP, STUPID, YOU ARE NOT FUNNY," and poking at the buttons on my radio as if I am poking out eyes. Can you tell I'm not a morning person?

That is one thing about being with PB - he is much more of a morning person than I am, which really increases your chances of being a homicide victim if you have to spend significant amounts of time around me. Both he and my dad are question-askers in the morning, something I do not tolerate. "What's the weather going to be like today? What should I wear? What are you going to wear? What are your plans today? What do you want for breakfast? Come watch this human-interest story on the news, isn't that nice?" OMG, NO MORE QUESTIONS. I do not have the ability to speak English at such a high level within two hours of getting up.

The one generally redeeming quality of my long drive is the chance to listen to music and sing at the top of my lungs. And there are days when every song that comes on the radio is the perfect one, or every song that comes on the iPod shuffle is just what I wanted to hear. Sometimes a Sugarland song will come on, and I am just in the perfect mood and while I'm singing I totally AM Jennifer Nettles, and I am singing to a packed house (in my imaginary perfect singing voice, which I definitely do not have). Or other times, some Michael Jackson will come on and I'm dancing on SYTCD, and I am SO GOOD. I hope other people have these music-induced fantasies, or otherwise you're all just going to think I'm a nutcase.

Christmas Against My Will

I have already gotten a ton of griping about the fact that I am already decorating for Christmas, but seriously, it is against my will. I totally agree that one should not celebrate Christmas on department store schedules, but our ridiculous town has decided that CLEARLY the most appropriate time to have the Christmas parade is the weekend before Thanksgiving. And since my parents' house is on the parade route, I feel like it's poor form to be all plain and undecorated and simultaneously have a million people over to watch the parade. You can't drink hot chocolate and watch all the marching bands, Boy Scout troops and Little-Miss-Whatevers without the Christmas junk FIRMLY IN PLACE.

Shouldn't this be my parents' responsibility, you ask? As I now have my own house and thus should not be responsible for decorating theirs? Well, yes, perhaps. But I'll just admit it: I'm something of a control freak about the Christmas tree. If the garland isn't draped exactly right, and the balance of red to gold ornaments and their distribution on the tree is incorrect, well then my panties will just be in a giant wad for the rest of the holiday season. Also, I am a Christmas tree snob. I think it's sweet that you have that ornament you made when you were in kindergarten, and those Barbie ornaments you collected for a year or two when you were ten, but KEEP THAT JUNK OFF MY TREE. Things must strictly conform to the Official Color Scheme From Which We Do Not Deviate. Also do not tell me that the Christmas tree is "no fun" if it doesn't have colored lights. NO NO. Maybe you also want to have Hamburger Helper and Vienna sausages for Christmas dinner (the quintessential trailer park supper). Maybe you also want to decorate your tree with the Elvis memorabilia you bought at the flea market. Perhaps you have been featured on peopleofwalmart.com. Colored lights = SO NOT APPROPRIATE.

So, while blaring the theme from Home Alone on repeat (you should download it if you don't have it, it's amazing), I created the final product:

TA - DAAAAAA!!!!

(close-up of The Color Scheme From Which We Do Not Deviate)

So please, do not judge me because I was responsible for the decorating of a Christmas tree on November 17th. My hands were tied.

So it's the last week of class, and I just cannot handle it anymore. I am bored of law school, bored of all my little internet distractions, CERTAINLY bored of paying attention. I struggled through criminal procedure this morning, and then I was a big giant suck and decided to go to the fancypants Target we have over here for one reason, and one reason only. I couldn't bear the thought of sitting here and studying from 10:30-2:00 (this ridiculously long break I have), and I have already been through all my traditional interwebz distractions (textsfromlastnight, icanhascheezburger, failblog, google reader). I decided what better way to burn a few hours than watching trashy tv on hulu? So yes, I drove all the way to Target between classes to buy headphones so I could watch tv at the law school instead of doing homework.

Oh, and then, while I was in the throes of a total lapse of willpower, I went by the entirely-too-convenient Pizza Hut Express inside Target (which should be illegal) and got the cheesiest, greasiest personal pan pizza in the universe. And now I am watching last night's Desperate Housewives while I have my greasy little paws all over my computer. This does not bode well for my work ethic during finals. Have I mentioned that you shouldn't go to law school? Well, here's the mention: don't go to law school. I won't go into a big long whinefest about how terrible it is, how the reading never ends, how it seems like you work your tail off and you get nothing in return except a big load of debt and perhaps the first stepping stones on the path to alcoholism, but you know. Wait, I think that was a big long whinefest. Oh well.

On a random, and totally unrelated note, I'm sitting here in the law school lounge listening to my iTunes and am ashamed because I've never really paid attention to my play count statistics before. Holy crap, I listened to "LoveGame" 191 times? Really? How much of my life have I spent listening to Ricky Martin's "Drop It On Me"? Well considering it's like 4 minutes long and I've listened to it 197 times, that amounts to almost 13 HOURS. 13 hours of my life listening to one (pretty terrible, I'll say) Ricky Martin song. In my defense, it IS on my workout playlist, which is just about the only time I listen to my iPod, and that damn Ricky does make me want to get up and boogy, so perhaps there is some justification. Or maybe not, that's ok, you can still reserve the right to judge me for that.

halloweenie (with no whining or complaining this time)

So at my parents' house, Halloween is a big deal. And I always say that and then I hear "Oh yes, we have a ton of trick-or-treaters too, we just stay so busy handing out candy." No, no you do not. We have a serious mob scene on Halloween, kids lined up down the sidewalk, me throwing Tootsie Rolls at children and hoping to hit bags.

See, I told you it was crazy. I didn't buy nearly as much candy as I usually do, because you know, handing out candy in such a furious manner really cuts into my drinking time.

PB and I did the whole cowboys and Indians thing again this year, revived from junior year of college.

So after handing out candy, we had a good old-fashioned redneck garage party, at which I drank entirely too much "Cherry Lemon Sundrop Modified." CLSM = Sundrop (Google it if you're not fortunate enough to have it), cherry Sno-Kone syrup, fresh lemons, and VODKA. Delicious (and I don't normally even drink vodka, but that's a story for another day.)

The BFFs came, BFFLia dressed as a cat and her husband was Chandler from Friends - y'all remember that episode?

We played left/right/center, which might be most fun game ever, involving the least skill ever. Basically, you play with three dollars (not the lame-ass chips they give you) and you just take turns rolling the dice. If you roll:

L - pass one dollar to the person on the left

R- pass one dollar to the person on the right

C- put one dollar in the center (it doesn't ever come back out)

Dot - keep your dollar!

The object is to be the person with the last dollar in play (as in, not in the center.) If you are, you win the pot!

Please look at my face. Can we all tell I had a little too much fun?

awkward with pointy things

No nuclear warfare ensued at my house yesterday, much to my relief and surprise. Though Phoebe (the baby kitteh) is clearly not so smart, as evidenced by the below photo:

Gave blood today, which for some reason I have an absolute compulsion to do, though I'm not sure why. I feel like "I hate needles" is just really not an excuse (though it's true), what with all the "your blood could save a baby's life" propaganda plastered all over the side of the bloodmobile. And so, my needle-phobic self walked up in the bloodmobile (I love calling it that, ps) and donated. Now, I always go through a big elaborate process of giving myself a firm mental pep talk before I even walk in the door. It goes something like this:

Meredith, get your stupid wussy self in there, you already know it's going to hurt, yes, it will be THE WORST PAIN IMAGINABLE. Also the gaping hole they are going to create in your arm MIGHT NEVER CLOSE and as a result, all of the goo in there might spill out and you will die a slow, painful death. But you know what's worse? BEING A WUSS. So you are going to get in there, keep your mouth shut as much as possible, try not to visibly shake, and GET THIS JUNK DONE.
So that's what I do, except usually it involves me telling a lot of random stories in an awkwardly loud voice to the poor unsuspecting blood-taking people because I have to talk in order to distract myself and not become a quivering heap on the floor, screaming "OH GOD, NOT THE NEEDLE!"

What's interesting is that I am not afraid of anyone else's blood, am not grossed out by watching someone else get stuck/cut open/mangled by a shark/etc. In fact, I might like to even to do some cutting/sticking/mangling if it needs to be done, because really it kind of fascinates me. But if we are talking about needles with the pointy end toward me, or the possibility of MY insides becoming my outsides, well then, we have a major problem.

So this is the part where I get a giant badge of honor to go with my sticker, blue bandage, and nasty lukewarm juicebox, plus enough of a boost in my karma to go around keying people's cars for a month without repercussions because of my ENORMOUS PERSONAL SACRIFICE. Mwahahaha.

I'm a sucker

I have somehow become a foster kitten mama.

I've been calling her Phoebe, after much waffling and heartache, because nothing would stick. I tried Eloise, I tried Roxy, I tried Pickles and it was all just wrong. She wandered up to my friend E's house, but he has two big stupid Dobermans (is it weird that I am ok with cats but something about dogs, especially big dogs, just really grosses me out? They smell.) Anyway, they ran her up a tree and generally went all Al Qaeda on her, poor baby. So, his fiancee, being a good person, took her home. She has much cuter, more palatable dogs, and they liked the Phoebster, but her dad was a big jerkface about it and said she had to get rid of Phoebs or he would. So that's the story of how I became a kitten mama.

I am hoping that my bff's in-laws are going to take her this weekend, because while I love being a kitten mama, Tallulah (my other kitteh) is so not impressed. I have been incorporating Phoebs into the house in stages...at first she stayed in the garage, because I couldn't bring myself to leave her outside. I hate having outside cats, for one thing...I had so many get hit by cars as a country kid and it made me so sad. Also, they all get that wild, outside attitude that will cause them to pee in your bed if you ever do decide to bring them in, because it's snowing/hailing/you feel like having a cat in the house. And they get that outside-cat fur that makes them not pleasing to rub. You know, IMPORTANT STUFF LIKE THAT.

So, like I said, first it was the garage. Then my dad cleaned out the ugly furniture from my 2-car garage that came with the house, that he insisted on buying when we got the house, which I told him no one (including me) would ever want because it is heinous. That, in turn, turned my garage back into a 2-car space, and so he brought over my '73 Mustang convertible to live at my house, instead of taking up space at my parents' house. And of course, kittens + leather interior in a convertible/your new paint job on your old car = BAD TIMES. So, I started keeping her shut in my bathroom at night, letting her out during the day. Well today, the weather is supposed to be just awful (i.e., cold and rainy, the kind that will make me feel terrible for her all day). Soooo now I have progressed to letting her stay in the house all day, with Tallulah, with free reign over everything.

If it wasn't a 45 minute drive from the law school back to my house, I'd go check on them, as I am worried there is scratching of the furniture/fur flying/my crockpot of chili all over the floor/full-scale nuclear warfare. I hope this is not the case - we shall see when I get home.

Fill-in-the-Blank Tuesday

(Not Friday, because it's Tuesday, and also, alliteration is overrated.) Taken from restaurantrefugee.com

1. If I was on a first date with someone and he ordered a Heineken/wine/anything from the menu containing more than six syllables, I would probably end the date early. [I don't go for fancy - the six syllable rule doesn't apply if any of the words are super, deluxe, bacon, or chicken-fried.]
2. When I’m sick I really want someone to rub my back, bring me a warm washcloth for my forehead, and bring me lots of soda (which I never stop drinking, sick or not.)
3. I know that some people really love movies; but I don’t understand how they spend so much money on it. [I think I own about three DVD's, most of which have been given to me/I've stolen from other people. As a general rule, I'm not a movie re-watcher, unless it's on TV and I need background noise or it is just a fantastic movie AND I haven't seen it in forever.]
4. I know that some people think I’m crazy for spending so much money on sheets; but I really love it. [You can't beat a good set of 400 thread count sheets.]
5. I’m so glad that I’ve out grown most of my jealousy since high school. [I was a bitter, angsty, jealsface. Probably all the hormones.]
6. I am living proof that the stereotype about smart people isn’t always accurate. [I'm still with my high school sweetheart, who didn't go to college with me, and who still hasn't finished his degree in general. He's not rich, but he's smart in his own country-boy way, and he's fun, and we've always been in love. I never subscribed to the notion that you have to branch out and be with an "appropriate" person to be happy.]
7. I know that it is a made-up word; but noms/fantastical/anything with -pants as a suffix are a permanent part of my vocabulary.
8. I can’t wait for HALLOWEEN! It's the most fabulous holiday of the year (yes, better than Christmas, and no, I'm not a Satan-worshipper.)
9. The most common misconception about me is that I'm a big mean snotface. Seriously, I think sometimes people think that about me, because I keep to myself, I get in a fog when I walk around and don't stop to talk to people as much as I should, and I don't go out of my way to reach out to people. Also I'm terrible about returning phone calls. Need to work on all of those things.
10. I wish I wouldn’t eat so gosh-darn much all the time, so I wouldn't have to work out like my life depending on it to avoid gaining 2834858 pounds, but sometimes I just can’t stop myself.
11. If I never heard the word "moist" again, it would still be too soon. [That word just gives me the heebie-jeebies. It's gross.]
12. I have a hidden talent for arm-wrestling that no one would ever expect of me.
13. I am not a fan of extraordinary rendition; but if it were to take place for crimes against womanhood/music/everyone from North Carolina, then Kellie Pickler should be the first person on the plane to Guantanamo. [That whole playing-dumb thing she does makes me want to punch a baby. Also, I don't even think she's so talented.]

P90X-treme PAIN

So, clearly this is a season of change for me, as evidenced by last post. But before I started this don't-go-over-in-October thing (and also before I realized PB could get bootleg copies of P90X from a friend of his, I ordered a sketchy Chinese copy of it from Ebay for like fifty bucks. And so far, so good.

Seriously, I have done two workouts in two days and my entire body is becoming PARALYZED. I nearly knocked a girl over with the door at the end of Wills/Trusts/Estates class today because I realized I was too weak to keep holding the heavy door at the exact wrong second. The first day was chest and back, which basically meant doing a variety of push-ups and chin-ups for an hour, and then twenty minutes of abs. Yesterday was plyometrics, which translates to me jumping around like the Easter bunny on crack for an hour. At the beginning of the workout yesterday I was thinking, okay, great, this is good, I can do this. And then very quickly it became, OH GOD, PAIN, TOO MUCH OF THE JUMPING, MIGHT DIE. Also the cat looks at me as if there is something very, very wrong with me while I work out in the bedroom.

I'm not sure the concept is so crazy revolutionary, because really anybody could do push-ups/chin-ups for an hour and jump squats the next day, and other such things like that and definitely get results in 90 days without any kind of formal program like this. But without that annoying Tony Horton telling me what to do, I know I would stop after 2 seconds of push-ups and decide I was just too tired to go on. There are frequently times during the workouts that I holler at the tv - YOU STUPID JERKFACE, I CANNOT DO 30 MORE SECONDS.

I need to take before pictures, but I have yet to get the 'nads to a) do that in the first place or b) post them on the interwebz. Also, that darn camera charger is still MIA. I thought of just ordering a new one, but the chargers are $28 on Amazon, and the camera is a 4.something megapixel Canon Powershot I've had since I graduated from high school four years ago. Considering that you can buy super-awesome cameras for $100 to $150 or so now, I feel like it's ridiculous to spend 30something bucks on a charger for my old one. But then I also feel like a big spoiled brat buying a new camera because I can't find the charger for the other one that works perfectly fine. DILEMMA.

Don't Go Over in October

So I got this from mscareergirl.com, and even though it's already the 5th, we're going to try it. What with the new house, and fall, which makes me want to buy a whole ton of new jeans/boots/expensive pumpkin spice lattes, I have spent roughly 900 million dollars in the past two months. That junk has got to stop. But it's going to be hard, whiiiiiine. Also, I just spent 55 cents on coffee, fail.

Well, anyway, if you want to participate/watch me suffer through this/probably fail at it, here are the rules:

Rules:

1. Participants are forbidden from spending any money on shopping for the month of October. The definition of “shopping” includes but is not limited to: new clothes, shoes, books, accessories, spa treatments, hair/nails, house wares, games, makeup, last minute travel, and anything else you probably can’t afford.

You ARE allowed to buy gifts and necessities. And, to clarify, manicures and highlights are not a necessity in this particular challenge. (Damn, I know.)

2. Participants must create entertainment and food budgets on mint.com and not exceed them.

3. You cannot spend more than you can pay off. Sounds simple, but most young adults today are spending way more than they earn each month.

4. Participants must share their shopping detox experience at least once a week in blog posts highlighting things like: temptations, stories, moods, realizations and ways they’ve lived without.

Purpose:

1. To develop new money habits.
2. To prove that the sky won’t fall if you don’t get a pedicure and buy new shoes this month.
3. To learn that you can still have a great night out without sipping on several $10 martinis…
4. To save a little money for once in your life.
5. To depend more on your fabulous personality and inner self-confidence than on what new things you are wearing.
6. To eliminate impulse and emotional buys- two of women’s biggest spending traps.

Things I have promised which I have not delivered.

Pictures from the house! Admittedly, not the entire house, but still, the house. Also they are from PB's iPhone, as my camera charger has gone missing in the move, as well as my camera cord, which is incredibly frustrating. Hopefully it will turn up soon. Both of those things.

Here's the living room:

Here's the master bath...I'm ordering a comforter set from Target that's the same as the shower curtain because I am just so in love with the shower curtain. Perhaps this is an extreme old-lady move, but I can't help it. I am checking the front porch with rabid anticipation daily...pictures of the master bedroom (which is green!) when the blessed delivery arrives.

Here's the dining room, which is basically part of the living room, since it's all open. Fun fact: the big wooden piece of furniture was made by my great-great-grandfather. I <3>

We did in fact go to the Panthers' game, which was disappointing, as are all of their games it would seem. Oh wells, I had fun anyway, as we all I know how little I generally care about football. But I did manage to find a perfect Panther-blue top in my closet, so A+ to me in the costuming department.

Fall has definitely fallen here in NC - I am probably the only person who dislikes this, but I do. Sure, the weather is lovely (and really that's a stretch, because I hate it being 48 degrees in the morning). But fall is just a reminder that winter is coming, and I hate hate hate winter. Depressing. I do like delicious pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks, however, perhaps the one fall element I am pleased about.

Or wait, I take that back, I am also excited about Halloween. Am throwing a gigantic, epic party. I need good costume ideas for me and PB, however. I thought about being a bee and dressing him up as a beekeeper (got the beekeeper idea from Martha Stewart's magazine, it's so cute). I went to Party City and tried on a variety of whoretastic bumblebee costumes though, and I pretty much look like a yellow and black striped sausage in both of them, so the bee/beekeeper idea will likely have to be abandoned.

Also, why did I not think of making a craigslist-only email? I am trying to sell some of my old furniture, which really needs to stop cluttering up my garage, but I have gotten roughly 38489202 emails that are like, "Do you still have it?" Awoeifjawoigjewoirr, is how I feel about that. I have someone hopefully coming to pick up a white cabinet tonight, so if I turn up murdered, you'll know it was due to sketchy craigslist activities.

football!

So as I said, I got free tickets to the Panthers game tonight, and though I am really not a football fan, I am actually excited. Mainly because:

1) Football is an excellent excuse to drink beer and eat nachos. And as PB is in what's basically the police academy right now, he's not supposed to be drinking at all, which means he is driving meeee.

2) They sell excellent nachos at Bank of America stadium.

3) I enjoy making commentary on the teams' costumes. And yes, I call them costumes, and yes, PB hates this, but I continue to do it.

Link of the day for your viewing pleasure:

http://www.peopleofwalmart.com

Might be moving in this weekend! Will post pictures if that happens.

bad and good

Why am I not one of those perpetually organized people who makes constant lists of everything, knows where all their stuff is at all times and somehow remain hyper-focused? Or at least has one of those qualities, as I seem to have none.

Exhibit A: blogging while I'm in the library at the law school, while I should be reading for my class this afternoon, or Lord knows, for my classes tomorrow.

Perhaps it is not helpful that the library is packed and thus the carrel I got is right to an awkward loud-breather, and okay, so maybe he can't help it, but I cannot stand loud breathing. Makes me want to punch people.

I just cannot remain focused after the first week of classes, for some reason. It makes me want to start surfing the internet constantly, playing this awesome Mario game I found:

http://www.mariogame.info/super_mario_bros_flash.html

Okay, .

Things to be excited about:

1. Tomorrow is my version of Friday. No Friday classes means perpetual 3 day weekends!

2. PB and I got tickets to the Panthers game tomorrow night courtesy of my uncle who is a fancypants lawyer (the sort of lawyer I will never be, but still admire.)

3. Tonight is 3 for the price of 2 sushi rolls at Wasabi! Oh gosh delicious. I previously was one of those people who was okay with sushi, so long as it wasn't raw, but accidentally ordered something I didn't realize was raw last time I went, ate it anyway and loved it. If you have a fear of that, conquer it. Stuff is fabulous.

4. The county fair starts next week! Which means I get to eat my traditional fair menu (roasted corn, fried okra, elephant ears, candy apples, fudge) and do my favorite activities (watching the ducks slide down the duck slide, riding the swings, watching the pig races). Yayyyy.

19 Kids and Counting

So I will confess: I love the Duggars. You know, those crazies with 18 kids. And today, on the Today Show, as I was putting on makeup, I nearly jammed my mascara wand into my eye because they were on with a "surprise" - they are having kid number 19. Now I have seen lots of ranting and such about how irresponsible this is, how insane they are, how ridiculous 19 kids is, and every part of me wants to agree with this. But I cannot help but like the Duggars.

Seriously, on the show, Michelle Duggar was just asked, "If you had 5 minutes with Barack Obama, what would you tell him?" And as I have heard every horrible, racist, close-minded comment you could ever imagine regarding the president, I almost hit the floor when all she said was (in the most sincere tone I may have ever heard), "Well I would just want to tell him that we are praying for him and his family. That's such a huge responsibility for anyone, especially someone with a family." Which of course, that's not a direct quote, but come on. Clearly they are the most conservatively crazypants family in the world, but she can still say something sweet and nice about someone I'm sure she didn't vote for? I'm not sure I could have been that nice about John McCain. I at least would have gone on one of my crazy tirades about healthcare or something.

Not to mention, this woman who has been pregnant for like 900 years, is standing in the metro on their vacation to DC, during rush hour, and she is calmly telling her kids that they need to be polite and let everyone else get off the train before they get on. And her kids are polite! They are well-behaved! What a novel concept! It's certainly more than I can say for Jon and Kate Plus 8 and that train wreck they have going on. Or really, for most families I see with their children running through the grocery store like a herd of wild goats on acid.

I sure ain't saying that I believe birth control makes the baby Jesus cry or that I want 19 kids or anything, but it is just amazing to me how darn pleasant they all are. All 21 of them. Always. So A+ of the day to the Duggars...if you did it all this time with 18 kids, hey, what's one more.

One room down, lots of rooms to go

So all of my everything is still pretty much sitting in a big smelly box truck in the backyard of my parents' house because the painter is slow as Christmas and is still not done. WHY DOES HE NEED TO SLEEP? WHO WANTS PART OF A SUNDAY OFF? I DON'T GET IT.

At any rate, I have one "room" down, that being the screened porch. I've decided it's going to be the site of at least weekly "Sideways on the Side Porch" festivities, as it broke in quite well for that purpose last Friday night.

You ready? I love it!! (So clearly you should as well.)

happy house-closing day to meeeee

Do you ever just get overwhelmingly curious (okay, maybe just nosy) about something that really doesn’t matter? And I don’t mean just something that isn’t any of your business, I mean something that really really doesn’t matter. Example: this morning, I’m sitting in class, and there is a guy two rows down from me wearing one of those free t-shirts the Red Cross gives out when you donate blood and it says, “Who says you can’t get blood from a…” but I can’t see the last word, no matter how much I crane my neck and look like an awkward noseface. WHAT THE HECK DOES IT SAY? I have to know. I have never heard such an expression, I can’t fill in the blank myself, I have to see it. I’ve never heard anybody say you can’t get blood from a…whatever. A rock? A sock? A leaf? WHAT?

Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that the law school’s internet clearly is broken this morning, which means I have no little background tasks to keep me occupied because I really do not like solitaire. And there is only so much babbling about the Fourth amendment that I can listen to. I do not care what your opinion is. Is your opinion the one in the casebook? No, it is not. Therefore, it does not matter because it shall not be on the test. Could you shut it please? Kthxbye.

In other news, today is the day I close on my new house‼ Am so excited. Am posting the pictures, am trusting you not to judge me because they still contain pink and green paint, shiny wallpaper in the bathrooms, and lots of little old lady-esque furniture. I am going to be a painting fiend for the next week or so at least, it would seem, because all that stuff has to go.

PS – Kid finally moved. Question is – “Who says you can’t get blood from a lawyer?” After all that. LAME.

Well, Hi.

This is me. The big guy is PB. You'll hear about him a lot.

This is Tallulah. You'll hear about her too.

Things I like to do:
1. Start blogs and not keep up with them
2. Complain about law school
3. Make lists of things to do and then not do them
4. Start making lists of things I won't do later and then not even finish the actual list
5. Daydream at inopportune moments
6. Take 20 minute, super un-green showers
7. Feel guilty about all the ways in which I'm not green
8. Think about what stickers I'd like to put on my car and then realize stickers on cars often piss me off and put no stickers on my car
9. Run, not because I'm particularly good at it (I sure ain't winning no races), but because it feels like a get out of jail free card to eat/drink whatever I want afterward (even though I know it's not)
10. Watch trashy TV shows of the Bravo variety, not to mention egregious reality crap, and Rescue Me (only because I love Franco)
11. Curl up with my Kindle and wonder how we ever lived without each other
12. Plot ways to kill people who crunch ice
13. Drive fast when the occasion presents itself
14. Be a moral snob for never having gotten a speeding ticket or smoked pot (that's right bitches, just step off my higher ground right now)
15. Be a nutritional snob because I only ever eat salads with spinach, not iceberg
16. Sleep in my contacts because I like to live DANGEROUSLY, since according my eye doctor it is DANGEROUS, like driving a racecar without a seatbelt
17. Wear pink and blue - seems like my whole wardrobe involves nothing but those 2 colors, though I don't mean for that to happen
18. Eat popcorn, ice cream, pizza, and peanut butter like a 4 year old who has no parents
19. Swim, because I have always believed I was the little mermaid
20. Not answer the phone, ever, either because I am oblivious to its ringing or because I don't know who it is and I get all STRANGER DANGER and awkward on the phone