Fancy Country vs. Plain Country

I was talking to my mom tonight and we were trying to decide on a location for an upcoming surprise party we are throwing. We really can't think of anywhere in our hometown to have it, because, while I'm sure that the-big-room-at-the-Grandy's is a lovely place, it doesn't exactly scream surprise- in a good way. Plus, you'd have to buy food there to have the party in the-big-room and I can only eat so many honey biscuits (I know, I laughed as I wrote that too. Obviously I can eat my way across town in honey biscuits).

So I was throwing out some suggestions and one was that we have the party up at Chels' family's sale barn on their ranch. My mom laughed about that for a second and then decided: "No. That's fancy country and we're just plain country."

So, for YOUR future reference:

Sale Barn = Fancy Country
My family = Plain Country

So don't come at us with your bedazzled beltbuckle and $300 pair of cowboy boots. Or your sale barn, for that matter. Those are fancy country.

We are more of the big-room-at-the-Grandy's kind of country.
Better known as plain country.

My Fortune

This is what my fortune said tonight at Pei Wei:

"Doing what you like is freedom.
Liking what you do is happiness."


I love this!! It makes me super happy for some reason. Almost as happy as the fact that Pei Wei is making Seasame Chicken right now.

I am loving my life right now. It's crazy and weird and doesn't always make sense. But tonight, I am incredibly content. I am lucky and blessed AND watching Season 2 of Arrested Development.

Seriously. Does it get any better?

Dance Like There's No Tomorrow

This title describes exactly what I did tonight.

I LITERALLY danced myself sick.

I'm not quite sure what it is about this song, but it makes me want to dance all my cares away.

Unfortunately, by the end, of it I had created some new cares. In that I was so sick I had to lay down on the floor and pray against throwing up.

But, at least I got to bust out some of my old moves, and the next time I hit up the club I'll be all set. If, by "all set" I mean "prepared to humiliate myself" with ending my dance by lying down in the middle of the dance floor and vomiting.

Pretty much a typical Saturday night at the club.

Things I've Learned From Tonight's Episode of the Bachelorette:

1. Never trust a man in a tank top.
Especially if said tank top reveals too much chest hair.

2. Stop watching The Bachelorette.


And I think that says it all.

These Sharks Are Packin’

I am mildly obsessed with the Discovery Channel’s Shark Week.

I thought I should just get that confession out of the way first thing.  Maybe my obsession is caused by the fact that Shark Week only comes around once a year, so I have 51 weeks to look forward to the next one.  This leaves a lot of time to think about all the shark-related material I am missing out on.  It may also be caused by the fact that, when we were kids, my brother and I would rent the National Geographic’s Shark special video from the library for weeks on end.  So, I’ve had the interest for quite some time now.

The most likely theory, however, stems from the time I went into the Gulf of Mexico with my snorkel gear on and I saw a massive crab next to my foot.  Not quite the same as a great white, but I have been afraid of the “deep blue” ever since.

My personal favorite Shark Week moment is a little show called Air Jaws.  You probably shouldn’t click on this if you have some sort of deep spiritual connection with seals.

I only mention Shark Week because I recently saw a commercial for it and then I remembered last year’s shark week.  I was watching with my BFF Chels (and it was one of the show’s where a human decides to jump into the shark cage to gain some sort of understanding about the hammer-head’s hunting habits) and we were very upset because it looked as though the shark was going to outsmart the cage and unlatch it somehow. 

In her horror Chelsea yelled out “Why don’t they make these shark cages bullet-proof or something?!?”

Obviously she felt (and I agree) that, although you never want to be stuck underwater with a shark, you DEFINITELY don’t want to be found unprotected with a shark packin’ some heat.

May The Fort Be With You

In college I once lived in an apartment with some of my best friends.  It was a really special time.  Yes, we were inseparable.  And yes.  Sometimes that led to an almost freakish knowledge of the ins-and-outs of each others’ lives.  But I digress….

Anyway, when it came time to graduate we all felt the need to truly celebrate.  Not just your run-of-the-mill celebration.  I’m talking full out.  I’m talking supreme celebration.

That’s right, I’m talking about a fort.

This is Alison (bottom) and Sarah (top).

We called it ‘The Fort To Be Reckoned With’ and it was, by all accounts, the most awesomest fort ever built.  Why we felt the need to assert our newfound adulthood with a past time that is more commonly associated with four-year-old boys is beyond me.  But it sounded great at the time.  And it was great.

That picture doesn’t really do us justice.  If I were more technotronic (thank you Big Brother) than I would upload a blueprint of the layout, but alas… they will let just about anyone have a blog these days.  Even if you only know how to turn your computer on.  Anyway, we brought the beds from the back of our apartment into our living room and hung sheets from the walls.  This meant that when you walked into our door you could go no further than the living room unless you were willing to crawl under Alison’s bed to make it to the kitchen or bedrooms.

We even made up a password and hand gesture that people would have to do if they wanted to come inside (and yes, it was a beating to everyone who wasn’t us)…. (and no, I can’t tell you the password because then I’d have to kill you).

Here is Daniel, earning entrance into the fort.

If you know Daniel (my bff Katy’s hubby) than you know he is- not unlike our fort, a force to be reckoned with.  He’s a Marine, and could probably kill me if I looked at him funny.  So, I don’t think he’s always been thrilled to partake in our silly games (i.e. grown women building a fort in their living room), but he agreed to do this, plus he let us take a picture of him doing it, which makes me unbelievably happy.

Anyway, this just so happened to be the day that I was supposed to have my computer fixed.  The company had called me and told me that the man was planning on coming sometime between 3 and 5.  I made the appointment and promptly forgot it. 

We were all sitting around the fort when I got the call.  The repairman was in the parking lot and he would be in my apartment in about 5 minutes.  You can’t imagine what it felt like to have a group of people stare in bewilderment at you as you try to push a twin bed, covered in sheets hanging from the ceiling, across the room.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the darn thing to move at all.  Stupid Tae-Bo.

I’m guessing you have never been in this particular situation, but you might be able to imagine what it felt like as I told the repairman to “please follow me through the fort” and “I hope you don’t mind getting onto your knees and crawling under this bed with your repair kit”. 

And, since I’m hoping this won’t ever happen to you, you’re going to just have to take my word for it- it was embarrassing. 

As I led the repairman under the bed I almost thought I heard something.  I’m pretty sure it was ‘Adulthood’.  And I’m pretty sure it whispered in my ear: “Welcome to the world.  Sucker.”

Complications

This summer I am spending a lot of time with a couple of six-year-olds.  I’ve been baby-sitting almost every day.  When I am not trying to pull my hair out in frustration I am usually laughing pretty hard at the crazy things they say and do. 

For the most part we get along really well, however, the little boy really likes to push the rules to the breaking point and because of that he often gets in trouble.  A lot. 

So the other day we were playing, and even though this day was really no different than any other, he began to feel persecuted by me.  So he picked up the phone and called his mom.  When she picked up this is what he said:

“Mom.  Ms. Crystal is being SO MEAN to me.  She is being so mean and I just can’t stand it.”

He put me on the phone, ready for me to get into trouble for being mean, and I explained that I was having some trouble with obedience on that day.  She said she understood and would be home soon.

Omar got back on the phone with his mom and they had a conversation.  I’m pretty sure she was telling him that he needed to try and be good when he responded with this:

“You just don’t understand Mom.  Things are just so complicated with her.  You just don’t get it…. she’s just too complicated.”

I wanted to laugh out loud, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have taken kindly to that. 

I can honestly tell you that I had no idea I was so complicated.  All these years, I’ve been thinking that it was men, but obviously it’s me.  And all it took was one small six-year-old to show me the light.