Just a Housewife...?

Finally a Bun in the Oven!

2015-08-27T11:40:00.001-07:00

I'm so insanely sorry that I haven't updated this thing in months, and be ready to read a novel, but I have been sick beyond sick for the first few months.

I'm not complaining! In fact, at our first OB appointment (with a real OB, not a reproductive endocrinologist!) the nurse asked if I was nauseous, and just said, "Oh yeah, I'm really sick." She remarked how happy I sounded to be feeling so sick, but she had no idea how long I have waited to feel this miserable.

At this point, I'm 21 weeks pregnant, and the baby is somersaulting in my tummy as we speak. It's an amazing feeling, because it's one that I honestly never thought that I would get to experience. We had our 20 week ultrasound this week, and it was mind-blowing watching the little pumpkin move around. It was asleep at one point, with its arm over its head, and Josh was amazed. It's how he sleeps!

We are already so in love with this baby. And it's ours! With how active I feel it, I know that it is Joshua Hasty's progeny. It's already clogging all over my bladder.

Even going through IVF earlier this year, I didn't think that it could happen. We had our egg retrieval scheduled in March, and the doctor already warned me that I didn't have nearly as many eggs as he wanted. They normally want 16-20, and I had 4.

It was devastating, but they wanted to go ahead with it. I was so nervous about the number of eggs, if they were viable, etc. I was so nervous that my stomach was cramping, and I was so terrified that when knocked out, I would fart in the doctor's face. Josh even told her that. Bless him. And, if I did fart, she was a lady and never told me.

So, the next day, all 4 fertilized (how amazing is that?) and they were immediately frozen. Normally in IVF, the embryos are transferred a few days later, but they held out for a month for us. It helps to shed all of the lining thickened through all of those awful drugs.

After a few weeks, we started the progesterone shots. Holy buckets. It's a huge needle, filled with a thick liquid, and it's goal is to provide an environment for embryos to stick and grow. Josh had to administer it right in the hip bone, twice a day. I think at first, it hurt him more than me! Despite the picture below.

The week of the retrieval arrived, and I was holding my breath to see if any of the fertilized eggs survived after being thawed. All 4 did! All 4! That's crazy! So they had me come in two days later for the egg transfer.

They picked the best two eggs, which had the most amount of cells, and the least fragmentation. Fragementation is just debris and extra junk. Normally they look for less than 20% fragmentation, and the other two had 40%-45% fragmentation. They kept them, to see if they would survive to be refrozen, but they rested the next day. So they definitely picked the right ones.

It was so emotional seeing these little balls of cells, and then watching them be transferred on the ultrasound. Tears were also streaming down my face, because you have to have a full bladder. I knew I would have to use the bed pan right afterwards, and that was even more freaky to me.

The next two weeks were some of the most stressful. Seriously, I would rather give myself 8 shots a day then go through that wait. It might have been the lowest I ever felt, and I was convinced that it didn't work. On the day of the blood test, I had to pull over and call my dad. I don't even know as he knew what I was saying, but tried his best to calm me down. So I wouldn't crash on the way to the clinic.

When you go through this, you give them a vial of blood almost every other day. So, this was just another blood draw for the nurses. Once she said that they would call me that afternoon, I started sobbing all over again. They were alarmed, but super nice. I just kept saying I wouldn't have been crying so much if they didn't pump me full of hormonal drugs for months.

Riiiiigggghhhtttt.....

So, Josh met me at home that afternoon, and she still hadn't called by noon. I knew that it would be bad news. I was already preparing my mind for the next step, and bracing myself for the new cost of donor eggs at the age of 27. Finally, the nurse called, and I was trying not to barf.

"You're definitely pregnant!"

I laid back, and just started sobbing, and Josh ran around the room cheering and dancing. That is a perfect representation of how we react to news. I then kept asking the nurse if she was serious, and all she said was that she doesn't joke about things like that.

So, we were pregnant. It was still too early for even a home pregnancy test, so we knew that we weren't out of the woods. I had to go back every few days for more blood tests to make sure that the levels were doubling, and I was still pregnant. Everything looked great every time. Those weeks feel like a blur.

Four weeks after that, I got to stop my progesterone shots! My hips were very thankful. Honestly, they were bruised and the medicine would clump up... it wasn't pretty. But it worked. So I have no complaints!

My last day of shots! Note the seasickness bands... This was the week I was at my most nauseous!

So, here we are now. Our baby is growing, and is looking great. We are beyond thankful, because we know that everyone's prayers and thoughts were the reason that it worked. Honestly, the odds were so against us. Even the doctor told me that nothing about my count was best case scenario, but that he would make do. God meant for this to be our baby. Maybe because this one will become president, a human rights activist, or cure cancer. We already have high hopes for this little one, and I can see why my parents expected so much of us!

At this point, it was wiggling its arms and legs, like a boss.

We still have dear, dear friends going through this, and my heart breaks for them every time. I still feel infertile, and my stomach drops when I see a Facebook announcement, and then I remember that I'm pregnant too! It's so weird, but I feel like our infertility was such a huge part of us for years, and it's hard to turn it off. If you are still fighting this, understand that I know exactly what that feels like. It's unbelievably painful, but I am proof that these tiny miracles can happen to anyone.

Yes, that's a baby in my belly, not a burrito. Er, not... JUST a burrito. My mom wanted to see me in my first maternity clothes, and I am loving the elastic tops. Is it cool to wear this after the baby's here?

So, There's Always a Silver Lining?

2015-03-11T12:14:00.001-07:00

There is no surprise that every job has their lingo, words that don't make sense to anyone else. And I know that with infertility clinics, everything is time sensitive. I will go weeks not doing anything, and then having to scramble for certain medicine, because I have to start something immediately. That's just the way fertility treatments go.

So, my nurse called last week, because we had to get my Lupron in, and I needed to start those shots. And that was it. I didn't know what it was. All I knew was that I had to do shots pretty soon of something.

I look it up, and Lupron is a drug to help with Prostate Cancer.

I finally talked to my nurse about it and they use it to shut down my system, so that the doctors can manipulate it and get as many eggs as they need. They found it is one of the side effects (I would love to know how they found that out...)

So, we are starting on this journey, and I'm feeling just fine!

Plus, my prostate cancer is officially under control. So there's that.

"Hasty Baby" is a Misnomer

2014-12-05T12:38:00.000-08:00

Seriously. We need to change our last name to "Unhurried," so the child will be referred to as "Unhurried Baby."

Alright, who's ready for an update? The last IUI resulted in.....

nothing.

It's ok, or it is now, after I've eaten my weight in oreos and sobbed and snotted into the shirt I was wearing while my terrified dog hid under the bed.

Honestly, I have learned a lot with this whole experience. I remember the first two cycles, how anytime I had a feeling that anything was wrong, I would get depressed and mopey for two weeks. I didn't want to jinx it or be hopeful because I thought it would hurt too much when the test was negative. However, I honestly thought that #3 worked. I even started looking at when the potential due date would be, arranging my maternity leave in my head. I had so much hope, and I convinced myself that this was the one. It obviously wasn't, but I learned the following:

I would much rather live with hope. Was I sad when it didn't work out? Absolutely. But, it hurt no more than it did the other times when I was sure it didn't work.

So, that's honestly the reason that I write these; not to garner sympathy or what not, but I read so many infertility blogs where the author just laments their fate and sends their readers on a spiral into a black hole of depression. "No one understands what I'm going through," "My family is the worst around the holidays," "My sister is pregnant so I'm not talking to her anymore," "I will never be a mother, so I'm going to build a crib for my dog." Things like that. There was actually one blog where a woman complained about being childless, then complained about the infertility treatments, and is NOW complaining about pregnancy symptoms.

I want to talk candidly about what we're going through, but with the understanding that we trust in God's plan and we are looking for the blessings in our journey. It doesn't have to be a void of despair.

I just can't exist where my life is one big pity party. It's not good for my constitution.

***** FERTILITY TREATMENT TALK -- IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, SCROLL AHEAD******

So, we visited the doctor after the IUIs to talk about next steps. We found out some crappy things, like I have a low egg reserve, so it's kind of now or never. I won't be able to carry a child past the age of 32 unless I use donor eggs or a frozen embryo, and I will most likely hit menopause around the age of 40.

It's insane to think that I may never have a biological child. It's something that I took for granted my whole life, like, "when I have kids, I'll...." It's a weird realization.

So what they want to do now is do IVF, which is when they take my eggs out, fertilize them in a petri dish, and put the embryos back in. It'll cost about $6,000 with insurance, and it'll give us a 60% success rate. We definitely are going to try it!

**********FERTILITY TREATMENT TALK OVER**************

So that's where we are. Obviously we don't have that kind of cash handy, so we are taking time off to save for it.

It's actually kind of nice to enjoy the holidays without having to track anything, or worry about traveling with refrigerated meds. I'm chilling with the Ariels, and all my cousins and aunt and uncle and PawPaw. It'll be a lot of fun. Plus being down here in the swamp away from all of them does make it harder. I can't wait to hang out in Lousville!

Anywho, the holiday parties are beckoning, along with the beers I haven't had in three months. I have a lot of making up to do.

Different Cycle, Same Result

2014-10-16T13:46:00.000-07:00

There's been absolutely nothing to report! We went through the whole IUI cycle a second time, with the same protocol, and....

it didn't work. This time I had double the amount of mature eggs, but it still didn't work. We found out that the success rates for an IUI with follicle stimulating hormones is 20%, and it just gives us the success rate that any normal couple would have naturally.

So, we're back at it a third time. This time the medicine is a lot more aggressive, all injectables, at a dosage that gets higher and higher. I had a doctor's appointment this morning, and they said that I already had 4 eggs, but my estrogen was lower, so they told me to up the dosage so we can get closer to doing this next IUI.

It's weird how this all messes with your brain. The first time, we were so hopeful, and then I took every symptom I had as a sign that it didn't work, and I honestly feel like I feel into a depression of sorts. I've never felt that sad, or worn down before, and I doubt it will be the last time I ever will.

This time, I'm going to stay positive, and convince my brain that I am pregnant. What's the worst that could happen; we could not be pregnant and I could be sad or disappointed? I can live through that. I have before. Nothing wrong with a little hope.

Again, though, our friends and family surrounded us with love and support, and my mom even drove 10 hours from Louisville to hang out with me for ONE DAY. Who does that?! We went to Costco and Trader Joe's, two of my favorite places, and I basically just took a mental health day. And another one to eat the entire jar of Cookie Butter that we bought at Trader Joe's.

Who's had that? That stuff is suuuuuper good. And almost a cure for anything.

But let me brag on the most important person: Josh is just the best husband in the world. He is the strong one, dealing with my crazy mood swings, whinings about the shots, and buying me sweet little presents. All it takes is a box of Junior Mints. Not kidding. Plus, this whole thing puts your body through the wringer. My stomach looks like a pincushion with all of the pins taken out, I can't exercise or play tennis like I want to, because they don't want your heart rate to get too high. I also have been (trying) to eat full fat dairy because that's supposed to help with implantation. Despite this, Josh makes me feel cherished and appreciated, no matter how badly I feel about myself.

Some huge events happened this week; our friends Jason and DiAnna had their baby Alston, and he is beyond precious. I also had a friend in the theatre community pass away. I just know that things happen beyond our control, and the hardest part is trusting God, and not letting your own thoughts creep in. It's almost reinforced how blessed we are to know the people that we do.

We took this picture, thinking it could be the first in a baby book. Now we see it as a mark of what all we are doing, and how much we can handle. Do I wish that I had make up on, and I didn't have Big Bird arms? Of course.

Yesterday, October 15th was the Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day. Again, I am so grateful that I don't fit in to either of those categories, and I am in awe of the families that do. They have so much strength, and I can't even imagine having to deal with something like that.

The bible passage that has brought me the most strength is 1 Samuel 1:1-20, when it tells the story of Hannah despairing because she didn't have any children. She went to the temple to pray, and because she was moving her mouth and no sounds were coming out, the priest thought she was drunk. He even told her to put away her wine. She explained why she was so distraught, and he prayed over her, and she became pregnant with Samuel.

We think maybe it's taking a while because we will have a special child, like Samuel. Maybe they will be president, or cure cancer or something. Now, genes do come into play, so our kids will probably not stand much of a chance to do either. But it still brings me a lot of comfort.

So, if you see me wailing, or mouthing the words to a prayer, it's not me being drunk. At least not this time. Don't tell me to put away my wine, because I don't have any. That's part of the reason I am so crazy this past few months.

I'm just praying for the child that we know is coming.

Keep you posted on IUI #3!

No Bun in the Oven

2014-08-19T19:16:00.001-07:00

Hey guys... it has been a long time since I've posted anything, and I've gotten fussed at for it. Let's see. Since we last spoke, we have bought a house, gotten a sweet little puppy named Penny, and went on an amazing summer vacation.

All in preparation and anticipation for something that just isn't happening.

Anyone that knows me knows that I am an open book. Ask me about my Brazilian wax. I dare you. However, something that we haven't told everyone is that we have struggled to conceive for almost 3 years.

When we got married in April of 2011, we knew that we wanted to try to become parents sooner rather than later. We always saw ourselves as young(ish) parents, able to keep up with the stamina of a toddler. As naive as that may be.

Well, it didn't happen, and we thought, well, it's because my career isn't where we want it. And God wants my career to be set.

It didn't happen.

Then, we thought, we need to purchase a house, so that we have room for a family, and we'll be making an investment in our future.

A year later, and it still didn't happen.

This past year has been spent going in and out of the fertility clinic, being poked and prodded, giving pints and pints of blood for tests, and more ultrasounds than I ever thought I would have in my lifetime. And I'm not even pregnant yet.

Now, I'm not writing this to gain sympathy, or pity, or for keeping you from posting pictures of your pregnancy or babies. We know that people being able to have children does not affect our chances to have babies.

For the most part, at least. Throughout this saga, I would like to educate you on things that might bother anyone unable to get pregnant, or people that don't want children in the first place:

1) "My life never had meaning until Junior got here." This makes me want to punch you in the face. Don't discount the lives of others, just because they don't have kids.

2) "You think you're tired now? Wait till you have kids." Hey, I'm sorry I don't have kids to experience your utter fatigue. I would give anything to be that tired.

3) "Your dog isn't really a child, you know." Duh. I know. But she is still cuter than your sea monkey baby.

4) "Just relax! Go on vacation!" Nope. Just, nope.

5) "You should adopt. I've heard stories of people doing that, and they get pregnant with their own baby." Here's the thing: if we went to adoption as an option, it's not as a means to an end. We would come to that conclusion after a lot of prayer and soul searching. Not to get the biological child that we always wanted.

If you want examples of how to act, check out our friends and family. We have had such amazing support, it makes me want to cry just thinking about it.

Just a little glimpse of our adventure: There is absolutely nothing wrong with us. We have, what you call, "Unexplained Infertility." We have tried many years, with nothing happening, and we just did our first cycle of IUI (Intra-Uterine Insemination,) complete with pills, shots, and suppositories (yay.) It didn't work, and we found out Sunday morning. It might have been the worst morning of my life. We were set to start again today, but I had a cyst that made it unable for the drugs to work correctly. So we wait yet another month. We know that we are meant to go through this journey, and we're trying, no matter how hard it is, to find the lessons we are supposed to learn. Here's what I've got so far:

1) It helps immensely to have support. I have a tendency to downplay my situations, or how I'm feeling (ask Amber Miller.) We knew we needed people to know what's going on, so we told our close friends and family. Most people try to keep this a secret, but this was the best thing we could have done. It's the love and sweet thoughts from people that have gotten me through these hard few days. I woke up Amber on Sunday with my text about the negative test, who immediately called and cried with me. Then my sister Emily called to cry with me, and then cracked me up for an hour about our adventures in dance recitals, and our lack of skills and grace. After a few more hours of wallowing, we went to eat with Jason and DiAnna Sox. Then I got to talk to my mom for a while, and she reminded me that we get to hang out at my PawPaw's cabin right outside of Asheville on Labor Day. Since, I have gotten texts from my wonderful cousins, mother-in-law, sweet gifts from our friends Larsyn and Tyler, and Tyler Ann and Brad. I cannot stress the importance of having close friends to lean on.

2) Our plans mean absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. We wanted two kids, about 4 years apart. Now, however our family ends up, it ends up.

2) I'm immensely blessed. I have an amazing family, I get to live in Charleston, in a house that we own, with the cutest puppy in the world. I also have a job that I love, and amazing friends that we have a blast with.

3) I've become more empathetic/sympathetic. Maybe it comes with struggling in some area of my life, but I have become more sensitive to what other people are going through. It's like Joshua is constantly saying, "we didn't look at this situation through the right eyes the first time." I'm trying to walk a mile in other's shoes before judging. Unless you're racist or sexist. I'll judge you all day.

4) No one deserves to be a father more than Joshua Hasty. No offense to the dads out there, but Josh is just all that and a bag of chips. He has put up with a lot, with the raging hormones and the mood swings that I've had. He is kind, fair, nurturing, insanely funny, sensitive, brilliant, and all of the other traits you look for in the father of your children. This journey reinforces this to me every day.

5) This is the first time that I've truly struggled. It's also the first time I have had to completely rely on God's promises and His presence. I'm completely vulnerable. My Mom has told me how strong I am. Which meant a lot, because I've never felt strong. Confident, opinionated, maybe, but now strong for the first time. I trust that we will have a child, and then the blow that comes every month it doesn't happen seems unbearable to me. However, I look at my friends, who's journeys have been so much worse than mine, and they can get up every day. So can I.

Again, I'm not saying this so that people feel bad for us. I want to be an open book about infertility, because not a lot of people are. People are ashamed to have to do this, and I refuse to be.

The ladies that have dealt with this before, or are dealing with it now, are the reason I had courage to go through all of these treatments. That's the reason I'm writing this. Infertility bites the bong hole, and anyone that has any questions or issues that they need some guidance with, I would be more than happy to offer up my experience. God forbid anyone I know has to do this, but it really helps to talk to someone who has traveled this road.

So, that's it for now. My nurse said I can drink (caffeine AND alcohol! Hooray!) this month that I'm taking off waiting for the cyst to go away. She said I deserve it. And I quite agree.

Huffing and Puffing my Way to Physical Perfection

2013-05-25T13:43:00.002-07:00

Everyone that knows me knows that I hate being the center of attention, and that I hate tooting my own horn.

Ha, toot.

I'm literally the funniest person that I know.

Anyway, not to make a big deal of anything, I've been dieting since January and have lost some weight. Whatever, no big deal. I wouldn't have to lose any weight if I didn't eat like a teenage boy cross country runner in the first place.

I found, during Anything Goes, that I didn't have to diet as much, what with the dancing, or the attempted dancing on my part. After it ended, I needed something to do after work. I couldn't sit on the couch anymore!

I don't know what it was, maybe my arm flab flapping in the breeze, or my pasty white legs, but I decided to walk the Ravenal Bridge. Now, if you don't know what this is, it is a 2.5 mile bridge that goes up really high.

I've honestly found that more than anything, I can clear my head. I've ended up doing this a few times a week. For your own safety, if you approach me on the bridge, here are some words of advice:

1) It's been established that I am a big chicken. My husband is a sound guru, so we have fancy earbuds. They are actually in-ear monitors that singers use in concert. They cancel out all sounds, so the only thing that I can truly hear is my music and my own wheezing. That being said, I can't hear anybody coming up behind me. Especially bikes. Last time, a guy on a bike whizzed by me, and I almost fell down from being so scared. I literally grabbed the rails and had to stay there for a solid 30 seconds before I realized what happened.

Oh, and I also elbowed a guy in the gut when he brushed my arm running past. So just do yourself a favor and make a wide berth if you see me.

2) I am not a fast walker. Don't even ask me to run. Many people venture on to the bridge, of the tourist variety, and they take pictures of the harbor from the very top.

Guys, just humor me and act like you're walking slower than me. It does something to my psyche when I keep getting passed by groups of seniors with socks and sandals.

3) Pigeons are rats with wings. If I see them in my lane, I will stop, stare, hyperventilate, and walk in the bike lane to pass the birds. I'm getting goosebumps right now thinking about their beady little red eyes. Gross.

4) Girls workout clothes don't come with pockets, so I will shove my iPhone in my panties, resting comfortably on my love handle.

Why I am I trying to lose them, again? So convenient.

I also stick my car key in my bra. So if you see my consistently sticking my hands in my panties or bra, that is why.

Yep, that is the reason.

Now, most of the time my efforts are noble, but they just don't pan out. For instance, yesterday was gorgeous, not too hot. I came home from work, laid out my clothes, and got as far as removing my pants. Then I sat on the couch, and it ended up being two hours later. And I still had no pants on. I just decided to cut my losses and take a nap.

Now, it's Saturday, my husband is working, and it's sunny and pretty. So......

Shopping will be my cardio today.

The Lasting Wisdom of R. Kelly

2013-03-30T11:38:00.001-07:00

Well, it's been a good long while since I've written a post, mainly just because I haven't had any good stories. But I can't go too long without being mortified by my crazy self, so an opportunity presented itself yesterday.

Enjoy.

It should come as no surprise that I deal with... Characters... Working in the hospitality industry. I'm not complaining, because I love my job, and everybody has to deal with such things in their jobs as well.

My sales coordinator leaves her radio on the R&B station everyday, so I'm used to hearing Steve Harvey dole out marriage advice every morning and hearing Beyonce 7 times a day.

But I digress. After a particularly trying phone call, I hang up, my fists clenched, trying to take deep breaths.

Then I hear it. So soft and faint at first, like a far away Michael Jackson running down from the other end of the basketball court, Bugs Bunny at his flank. I close my eyes and start humming to myself.

"I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky...."

You know, I did think about it every night and day. I just wanted to spread my wings and fly away. I started softly singing out loud.

"I believe I can soar..." My voice was soaring at this point, running out that open door.

Then the choir comes in. Sweet heavens, the choir.

I am literally standing up, singing, with my arms stretched out, flying motion. It's like Michael was lifting my 3rd grade self up to the heavens. It might be a good point in this story to mention that I have been very sleep deprived all week.

"Girl, what you doing?" I see my two coworkers standing right behind me.

"Me? Uh, Stretching."

If You Keep Making That Face, It's Gonna Stick That Way

2012-08-27T15:18:00.001-07:00

It's been quite a busy week for me! I've started an exciting new job, and that very same day, something truly weird happened to me:

I woke up that morning not able to feel the left side of my face, and my eye wouldn't close. I thought that I had just laid on it and it would go away, but as the day progressed I knew that something was sort of messed up.

I went to the doctor right after work, and I got diagnosed with Bell's Palsy. I had never heard of it before, but basically it just means that the nerves in the facial muscles get inflamed and that side of the face becomes unresponsive and numb. It could go away in a month, in six months, or it may not go away at all. But, the good doctor was pretty optimistic that I'd be back to my goofy self eventually.

Now, I know that the majority of you think that I'm doing this on purpose, but this is literally what I look like.

Jen scared. Jen happy. The face Jen will probably make.

You can laugh; it's pretty funny. The night Josh saw me, he told me that my face was stuck that way because of all of the stupid faces I've made before. Last night, he told me that I could "totally"audition for the role of Two-Face. Har.

As a result of my eye not being able to close, I have to tape it shut every night, and fill it with this stuff called "Lacri-Lube." Sexy stuff. I also have a hard time keeping my mouth closed when I eat, because my cheeks and lips are so weak, so food and liquid dribbles out. Even sexier stuff.

So, if you tell me a joke that I would normally laugh heartily at, but don't, please don't be offended. I just don't want to terrify you with my menacing grin. Or, if I smile at you all crooked-like, don't think I'm being a snob and giving you a sarcastic smirk, I'm not. I just can't move my face that way!

I feel for Katrina de Voort. I think that's literally the way her face looks.

So, if you think someone is giving you the stink eye, or a dirty look, or you think they have awful table manners, give them a chance. They might just have faulty wiring, like me!

My Mom Ruined Showers for Me. Forever.

2012-07-17T15:08:00.000-07:00

I'm going to tell you a tale. It's a tale of a mother who found utter delight in torturing and scaring her children. I mean, just ask her. She thinks that it is the funniest thing in the entire world.

When I was in the 4th grade, my mom found it appropriate to make me watch Psycho, you know, the Alfred Hitchcock movie where the lady gets killed in the shower, and there is a dude dressed up like his mom and is super creepy. Sorry for the spoiler alerts, but this movie is super old. Go see it.

The shower scene. Good gravy, the shower scene. It is arguably one of the most famous movie scenes ever.

It also has made me a super big chicken.

The night I saw it, I couldn't sleep. I mean, I was tired, but I knew that the minute I closed my eyes a crazy person would leap out of the closet dressed in his mom's clothes and would stab me to death. I just sat in the corner of my bed, huddled like the little match girl, and left the light on. So I could be on my guard the entire night. I didn't do anything for those terrifying 8 hours but scan the room.

The next day, I was too scared to take a shower. However, we were going to church the next day, and mom told me that I had to. It was all part of her plan, I think. I was truly perplexed: close and lock the door, and risk being locked in with a killer, or leave it open, inviting all killers? I decided to leave it open, figuring that I could make a fast (and slippery) getaway. I threw away all of my razors, eliminating another possible weapon.

I would like to note, I had just started to....um...develop...and shaving was a new concept for me. This would make yet another day that I did not shave my armpits and another day my mom would fuss at me about it.

I just consider it payback.

I am washing my hair at this point, continually poking my head out of the shower curtain. Soap finally gets in my eyes and I have to bite the bullet and shut them.

A shadow descends. My nutty mother throws back the shower curtain and makes a stabbing motion with a screwdriver. I scream, and make a slippery escape. I'm still covered in soap suds.

This has still messed me up. I am super jumpy, and I will start throwing punches at the air when startled. One time, I got grounded for punching my mom in the face because she snuck up behind me and scared me.

Which brings us to now. The other day, I was taking a shower, shaving my legs, and every time I bent down, a shadow descended over me.

I want you to think about being killed in the shower. You're super vulnerable, and there's no where to go! There's no where to go!

I called Josh in to sit on the toilet for the duration of my shower and make sure no one killed me.

Me: "Hey, I just need you to sit on the toilet and talk to me."
Josh: "But I'm watching golf."
Me: "All I know is, a shadow is coming up every time I bend over."
Josh: "That is you."
Me: "Josh, I don't care, I just need you to sit on the toilet and talk to me."
Josh: "You're high. I'm in the living room, and I'm not dead."
Me: "What if it's a stealthy killer? He could kill you in the living room and I would never know until he got here."
Josh: "Are you sure you're not high? I smell the shower cleaner that you just used, and it's pretty strong. I'm just going to sit in the living room. Stop being weird."
Me: "It's ok. I'm done now."

That is the state of my life. Constantly on edge because I think someone is going to jump out from under the bed, the closet, the other side of the shower curtain, or just make a loud noise all of a sudden.

I hope you're happy, Mom. I feel like I can hear your cackle 10 hours away.

Phew-O

2012-06-20T19:00:00.000-07:00

We just got back from Italia! I will post soon once I have time to gather all of my thoughts so I can remember all of the crazy stories during our trip! It was the trip of a lifetime. Just saying.

And that Josh is a good European driver and would fit in really well and could work in the opera house in Milan.

Just saying.

Not a Newlywed Anymore!

2012-05-31T19:39:00.002-07:00

As I was perusing my blog today, I was looking at the header at the top.....

"A newlywed's views on just about everything...."

However, I am no longer a newlywed. Whaaaaaaaaat?

Joshua and I celebrated our first anniversary almost 2 months ago. It's so hard to believe that the first year flew by so fast!

In honor of my hubby-wubby, I'd like to dedicate this to him.

I keep telling Josh, "I know there is a reason that I married you!" I say it when he answers my questions about why the key will go into the ignition but not turn (it's because the steering wheel is turned a weird way, by the way.) Or pulls my keys out of our front door that I had left since I had come home 3 hours ago. Or because he'll buy me some York peppermint patty pieces because he knew I'd like them.

Even though those examples are good indications of how sweet he is (and how well he keeps me sane/grounded,) they are not the reasons that I married him. I married him because he is

Kind. He can tell when a friend is hurting and try his darndest to make them smile.
Generous. He will give you the shirt of off his back. He will also drop everything he's doing to help someone out. I've seen him leave dinner to give a friend help that was stuck on the side of the road. DINNER. And for Josh, that's a big deal.
Hardworking. He knows that you can't get anywhere without hardwork, and he will work himself to the bone to make sure his work is something that he can be proud of.
Funny. I will be crawling into bed, dog tired at the end of the day, and he'll say something that will make me laugh so hard I hyperventilate.
Supportive. He will comfort me when I've had a hard day, cheer me on when I take on a new task or conquer a goal. I think if I decided to juggle swords for a living he'd let me, knowing that it made me happy. (it doesn't)

So, as we take on our next year, and the rest of our lives as a married couple, I'd like to always be reminded of how I felt this first year, and know that everything we go through is worth it. I also hope and pray that everyone gets this type of love, the love that makes you greater than you are, a love that causes you to be selfless, and a love that inspires you.

There's nothing better than waking up next to your best friend everyday.

Watch Out, I Might Barf

2012-04-18T07:32:00.000-07:00

I think that I am maybe the most wimpiest person I know. I also think that many other people think that as well. I have a very weak stomach, and I get motion sick at the drop of a hat.

Let me elaborate. I went to the gym yesterday. I normally bring headphones with me, because I plug it into the TV, watch Tabatha Takes Over, and before I know it, I've been on it an hour!

I, unfortunately, forgot said headphones, and brought a book. See, the thing is, if I don't have anything to do except listen to how hard I'm breathing, I get bored and/or tired. I need something to distract me.

I'm reading, and I've been pedalling now for 20 minutes. I stop to take a sip of water, and the room starts spinning. I felt like I was insanely carsick. I felt like I was riding in the backseat of a van going 80 mph down the Blue Ridge Parkway.

I move on to weight machines, and all was well.

Point of the story is, I got motion sick. On a stationary bike. I got motion sick on an object that was not in motion. Who else does that happen to? I know that I can't read on a plane, boat, car, etc without getting sick, but a chair with pedals? What?

But whenever I stop, I'm good. Sickness gone. I actually went home and made double crunch honey garlic pork chops for dinner (found on Pinterest. Huzzah!) and scarfed down every bite. Then I watched the season finale of Raising Hope. And the citizens rejoiced. And by citizens, I mean Josh and myself. We're our own microcosm.

Cooking for Your Husband is Pointless if it Gives him Indigestion

2012-03-18T17:46:00.000-07:00

Hello, all of you in the blogosphere that I have neglected. It's not really my fault; either I'm super busy or there's nothing interesting going on in my life.

Anyway, I just got back from a trip to Chattanooga for SETC. Yes, the dang convention has sucked me back in, but I went with the drama kids from Wando High School; and good times were had by all. Except for when myself and 2 other chaperones made a mad dash to the hotel to search all the rooms for missing costumes. For a one act that was going to go on in an hour.

For those of you who stayed at the Sheraton during the previous SETC in Chattanooga; you know who you are: there were basically twelve of us in one room. I really don't miss being a poor college student. We went to the City Diner! The hole in the wall that was attached to the Days Inn, the one that had food from literally every ethnicity and slices of cake the size of your head. I ate a mound of nachos, then ran around doing a Russian accent that I had learned in a workshop. It was a very productive weekend.

This past weekend, we were in Greenville, SC with the student council for Wando. Greenville was an absolute blast! Josh and I just walked around downtown, hung out at the Falls Park, got sunburned (and I didn't even care because I was just so happy for the warm weather) and went to the zoo. At the zoo, everyone was with children. And then there was us. Because we're basically children anyway. I love zoos.

So, St Patrick's day was yesterday, so we went to a Mexican restaurant, like you do on such an Irish holiday, and then ran over to the Carolina Ale house to try and watch the Kentucky game. It was a madhouse; people were screaming above us trying to get drinks, a drunk guy was poking Josh for not wearing green (I warned him...) So we gulped down our beers and headed back to the hotel to meet/rescue from the highschool dance, Di Anna, at the Blue Ridge Brewing Company where we ate.....wait for it...Irish Car Bomb Cheesecakes. You had to be 21 or over to even order them, because they did not cook out the alcohol. It was all there, believe me.

With us being so busy, I've hardly had time to cook; it's been Stouffer's lasagnas and crock pot beef stews for the past few weeks. So, Thursday, I had the time to cook Josh a wonderful home cooked meal. I made Chicken Creole with Chile Cream sauce. Here's a link:

http://www.campbellkitchen.com/RecipeDetail.aspx?recipeId=30&ref=%2fSearchRecipesResult.aspx%3fq%3dcreole%2bchicken%26filter%3d

So yummy, and full of spices and things that will set your mouth on fire!

Therein lies the problem.

Josh isn't a huge fan of spicy things, but I am, and I feel like the more I cook with spicy ingredients, the more he'll like them. Plus, I always felt that if I was the one cooking, I get to cook whatever I want and he just has to eat it.

He watched tentatively as I dumped a whole can of green chiles in the skillet, then dredged the chicken in a ton of spices. I just smiled and told him that he would be fine.

He didn't finish the meal, which never happens. The next morning, he sent me a text saying that the green chiles killed him. Oops. Then, walking around Greenville for the next morning afterward, he was still complaining about the chiles. Double oops.

Moral of the story is, he's so sweet to eat things that he doesn't like simply because I made it. I need to take him into consideration when planning meals. So, Josh, if you're reading this, I'm sorry, and you have banana pudding (your Nanny's recipe) on the way!

A Sticky Situation

2012-02-03T08:58:00.000-08:00

Wednesday night, we got to go see the National Broadway Tour of Mary Poppins. It was....kind of....eh....not well written. But the scenery and special effects (that Josh got to be a part of) were absolutely fantastic! It was a nice night; we went to PF Chang's for dinner before with Jason and Di Anna. Nothing could spoil my night until.......

Cue the dramatic music.

We were standing up during the curtain call watching the cast sing, and all of the sudden, air cannons come out and confetti goes everywhere. At that moment, something hits me on top of the head.

I pat my head, and my hand sticks. It's wet. And gooey. I'm about to hurl. Someone's gum had flown out of their mouth onto the top of my head.

Gross, right? I was freaking out!

All day yesterday, I was coating my hair in peanut butter, rubbing ice cubes on my hair, and taking constant showers. First to try and condition the gum out, then subsequent showers to remove the peanut smell. It's a good thing we don't have a dog, or it would have tried to eat my head. Now, mind you, I'm doing all of these things whilst crying and shouting, "Why me?!"

OK, maybe there wasn't wailing and gnashing of teeth, but I was still pretty blue all day.

Next time I go to the North Charleston Peforming Arts Center, I'm wearing a helmet.

This is What I Do When I'm Bored. And it Cracks Me Up.

2012-02-01T07:22:00.000-08:00

Ah, the joys of StumbleUpon.com. All you have to do is enter in your preferences, click the "Stumble" button, and random web things will pop up that will tickle your fancy and bide your time. Here's the doozy I found today.

http://theuglydance.com/?v=zymruvzrib

Watch it. It's definitely worth it. I can't stop laughing, and I'm at work.

Marvel At My Crafty Craftiness!

2012-01-28T14:14:00.000-08:00

I, along with so many other people, have now been sucked into the Pinterest Universe. I mostly use it for recipes, but I have actually gained the confidence to (gasp!) make crafts.

For those of you who know me, you know that my wedding favors were the pinacle of my artistic ability. My mom and I painted wine glasses, were planning on doing a design, but the prototype looked pretty heinous. So, we just painted the bottom of the glass blue, and it basically turned the whole thing blue. I liked it because it didn't have our names on it, and it wouldn't be a random dust collector in someone's house. (We use our's very frequently.) Granted, we weren't very good at mixing the shade of blue, so the glasses themselves vary. Whatever. It was free, people!

So, I considered it my crowning achievement. Until now.

Before you pick your jaws up from the floor, remember that I am a mere mortal, with a mere hot glue gun. And some spray paint.

Yeah, so all I did was hot glue fake hydrangeas and a wooden letter to a grapevine wreath, but this is a big step for me! I found a "autumn wreath" on sale at Wal-Mart for about 50 cents, so I bought one and tore all of the gaudy fake leaves off of it, and made this wondrous wreath. I feel like I can conquer the world! I may make a table! Who the heckdarn knows what I can accomplish?!

Yummy, Healthy Things to Make During Gross Winter

2012-01-04T07:21:00.000-08:00

Let me preface this by saying that I've fallen victim to the Pinterest Universe. I never thought that I would be sucked in, but it is chock full of neato ideas and crafty things and recipes. I'm also looking for something to occupy my time during the slow season at the hotel.

I found a homemade hummus made with cannellini beans and fresh cilantro. Because I've gorged myself on too many holiday treats, I'm craving healthy foods. Weird, I know!

This requires:

1 Can of Cannellini Beans
2 Tbsp. of Olive Oil
2 Tbsp. of Lemon Juice
1tsp. of Minced Garlic
1 tsp. Cumin
1/2 tsp. of Chili Powder
1/2 tsp. Kosher salt
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
3 Tbsp. Chopped fresh Cilantro

All you do is stick everything in a food processor until smooth. Really hard, I know. But this is so unbelievably yummy, and it tastes better than any store bought hummus I've had (sorry Sabra, I will always love you.) So, we have a tupperware thing of this that we pull out and use as a dip with pita chips or baby carrots, and we use it as a spread for sandwiches and turkey wraps. Yum!

For dinner that night, I made Pioneer Woman's Broccoli Cheese Soup. You can get the recipe here:

http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2011/11/broccoli-cheese-soup/

I've made this a few times, and I always divide the ingredients. There are only two of us, after all. But, I made a huge pot of it last night so that we would have many leftovers. Josh and I both took some for lunch today. And with today being 25 degrees, it is quite welcome.

While this simmered I whipped up some Corn Muffins with Ye Olde Jiffy Mix. Comfort food at its finest.

No TV or Movie updates, because I'm too cheap to go to the movies, and new episodes of my shows have been new. I'm seeing Girl with the Dragon Tattoo tomorrow, loved the book. We'll see how it goes!

I Tend to Disappear During the Holidays

2012-01-04T06:46:00.000-08:00

This has been quite a Christmas. So much so that it has caused me to hibernate into an abyss-like black hole, cutting all methods of communication. Now, we're forced back into the real world, into the bleak month of January. It's about this time that I hate winter. I really only like winter during Christmas. And even though winter in Charleston is about 50 degrees, I still don't like it. Not one bit.

Now to change the subject completely....

About a month ago, Josh and I made french fries. This endeavor started when we got into an argument about whether or not we needed a french fry cutter. This all started at a marching band competition when, at the funnel cake stand, a guy stuck a potato in a cutter, pulled the lever, and... voila! French fries.

But I digress.

I thought that if we just simply cut the potatoes into fry shape, then fry the fries, it would be the same darn thing. For those of you looking to fry things with the one you love, follow my steps:

1) Pour oil into a deep skillet and then heat up the thing until it looks like molten lava bubbling up. Go big or go home.

2) Let your husband lecture you on how much you burn yourself whilst making meals for him on a normal basis, so let him volunteer himself to take the reins and drop the fries into the magma.

3) Grab a bag of the frozen Gorton's beer battered cod and preheat the oven. When making fries, you really don't have that much effort to make anything else. Plus, fish and chips are a good combo, and this frozen fish was pretty dang good! I wouldn't have even gotten it, but it was on sale at Publix, and I had a coupon. That doubled. I'm cheap.

4) Keep watching Josh wince as he's dropping fries in and taking them out. He took them out when they started floating. Wait for his previous words to bite him in the butt.

5)Put the fish in the oven.

6)Get into an argument about how the Gorton's Fisherman jingle goes. Keep singing it until you're blue in the face.

7) Grab laptop and play the darn commercial on You Tube.

8) When proven the victor, do a dance called the "suck-it dance," whereby you prance around like a Tennessee Walking Horse, and move your arms in a Pee-Wee Herman, "Tequila"- like fashion.

9) Pop a fry in your mouth, then scream about how hot it is.

10) Disregard what you just did and stick another one in your mouth.

11) Console an upset Josh because hot oil has splashed on to his hand, causing a really gross, painful looking burn. Stick his hand under cool running water.

12) Finish the job.

13) Rejoice in homemade fries and home-heated up fish.

There you have it! A sure-fire way to make fries cheaper than it is to buy them.

Serial Killers, I'm On To You....

2011-11-13T10:10:00.000-08:00

This week has been a crazy week. No, wait, let me rephrase that. I've been crazy this week. All because of a few articles and viral videos. I have discovered that fear makes you completely irrational.

Here is my harrowing tale.

At the beginning of the week, Tuesday to be exact, I read a little story in Cosmo. It was all about serial killers, how they stalk their victims, and how you can protect yourself.

Holy freaking cow. So, of course, model of intelligence that I am, I decided that I obviously need to be on my guard against serial killers. I start analyzing every guy I see, I change my driving routine on my way home, and I remain alert. A little too alert.

Upon arriving at home, I fell asleep on the couch. Like I always do. Because I'm like an old person. I was woken up by some loud banging next door, and they were screaming someone's name. Of course, I thought that a serial killer was next door. I start locking all the doors, closing the curtains, and trying to be as silent as I possibly could.

That night, I was emptying the dishwasher, and I heard some light tapping on the window looking into the kitchen. Because it's pitch black outside, I can't see anything. However, I do see a gap between the curtains, so I decide to be stealthy and crawl on the floor, slide up the wall, and close the curtains from below. Obviously a serial killer would not think that someone was home after watching the curtains close themselves.

All of a sudden, I hear banging on the window, then banging on the front door, which was locked. I start screaming hysterically, then I crumple to the ground screaming some more, which is clearly the epitome of stealth. Josh bursts through the front door laughing, and I sob. For an hour. Josh was so horrified at my reaction, all he could do was apologize.

I talked about Josh not because he did anything wrong (we mess with each other all the time) but to show how absolutely bonkers I was!

So we move to Thursday night. Josh was in North Carolina with the theatre kids, and I was home alone. I saw on CNN a video that shows someone looking through your Facebook profile. I wanted to see it for myself. Bad idea. BAD BAD BAD idea.

Basically, it shows some crazy psychopath looking at your stuff, stroking the screen, searching for where you live, etc. It was super creepy because he started stroking the screen when it was a picture of me and my cousin's baby, Jackson. I screamed out, "he's a baby, you pervert." It didn't occur to me that it wasn't real. Then it shows him driving to kill you. Yeesh.

I left the hotel at 11PM, making sure no one was in my backseat itching to slice my throat, then I turned on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia really loud, because I didn't think that God would let me die with that show on. I went to the bedroom, because I couldn't keep my eyes open. I proceeded to shut all the doors and close the curtain as tightly as I could. I fell asleep with all of the lights on. And even though our electric bill will be abnormally high, I just felt safer. I was so happy when it was morning, I didn't even mind the crick in my neck from sleeping in an upright position all night.

I think I'm over my serial-killer-phobia, but I don't think having a fear of crazy psychopaths is so strange. It's only in my head when it becomes irrational. Like, a tree turned into a person looming outside the window, rustling leaves became a killer shuffling his feet outside, and a squirrel chirping became his crazy psycho war cry.

You don't have to tell me, I know I'm crazy.

The Art of the Mini-Series

2011-10-13T10:23:00.000-07:00

OK, try not to laugh. I have spent the entire weekend immersed in "The Thornbirds." Yes, the one that's reference when people make jokes about romance with priests. That one.

OK, stop laughing and/or shaking your head right now.

When my friend Carolyn gave me her DVD's (because it's a multi-disc set. Hooray!) to borrow, I thought, "Well, this will give me something to watch when I'm bored." But it was so much more!

I became obsessed with it. Josh had to peel me away from the TV. I don't know what it is! The sweeping love story, the adventure; it's a saga featuring multiple generations of priest lovers! (but not all were sexual. Ahem.)

After reading that last paragraph, I realized that I could write on DVD covers. Just saying. That's compelling stuff.

This tells the tale of a family in Australia who come to live on their aunt's property, Drogheda (don't quote me on the spelling.) because she's super rich and lets them work on the ranch. Her brother and his family, the Clearys, are the only known relatives of said old lady. Who's completely bonkers and is in love with a young priest, Ralph de Bricassaut (again, don't quote me on the spelling)

Ralph ends up having feelings for a nine year old, Meggie Cleary. It's normal at this point, because he seems like he's being priestly to this little girl; it's all innocent. I thought it would be creepy, and a normal person probably would find it so, but I didn't!

You can pretty much guess what happens, Meggie grows up and gets hot, Ralph has to move across the world to the Vatican to escape his emotions. Then she gets married to a loser to forget about Ralph, he acts loser-ish, gets her pregnant, then kind of abandons her. Her friends send her to this private island resort to get her head together, and Ralph comes and they....er....consummate their love. Then he gets all freaked out and leaves again, but gets her pregnant first. Scandalous! Then it jumps ahead nineteen years later, and Meggie/Ralph's lovechild decides he wants to be a priest too, some sad stuff happens, they all come to terms with it, and Ralph dies.

It was so dang sad, and I was so embarrassed at myself for crying alone in my living room about this horny priest. Plus, the movie takes place in Australia, but only one person speaks with an accent. Everyone else is a variation of Irish/American/British, but they all supposedly grew up there. Plus, it's super 80's-tastic.

But after pondering my tempest of emotions, I have come to a realization: mini series are the bomb. How else can you fit the entire plot of a novel (Most mini-series are novels) into a film format? If it became a movie, you would have to cut a ton of it, and if it became a TV Show, well, it wouldn't end until the show ended. Which could take years!

I told my mom that I was watching The Hornbirds, and she turned into a puddle of sentiment. Mini-series evoke something in us, because we can become completely immersed for 8-15 hours, then go on with our lives. I will never forget watching Lonesome Dove. I read the book, and they kind of nailed it, script wise. Plus, my mom will never shut up about North and South, with Patrick Swayze. Mini-Series became sort of a phenomenon in the 70's and 80's, and now they're gone.

At least now I have Downton Abbey, but it's only airing in England right now, and I don't have fancy cable channels. Man, BBC has it right with all those dang mini-series!

Please, TV Land executive people, humor this cheesy dork and make more mini-series!!

Faith

2011-10-01T09:43:00.000-07:00

I've always wanted to use this blog as a medium to tell all of you about the books I read, mainly because I want to discuss them! There are many times where I'll read something crazy in a book, gasp, and then look around and see Josh staring at me. So I need someone to relate to when it comes to books, and maybe get recommendations. Agreed?

I just read Faith by Jennifer Haigh, and I can not describe how stirred I was by this book. It deals with a very controversial and prevalent issue today: child molestation accusations of Catholic priests.

Now, mind you, this isn't really a statement on the Catholic church. It's a story of what happens when accusations get thrown around. Father Arthur Breen has been accused of molesting a child, and this book tells of how his working class Boston family deals with the news. His mother is refusing to hear anything that doubts his innocence, his brother, with two small children of his own, has completely cut off Arthur, and Sheila, his sister (and from the point of view that this story is told) believes he's innocent, but is on a search for the truth. The family also has many secrets of their own, and the secrets they hold influence their reactions to the news.

Arthur has been kicked out of the parish, the only world he's ever known, and is living in a small apartment that the Boston archdiose is paying for. He feels lost.

The church, instead of conducting an investigation, just shuffles Arthur around and throws money at the issue. It's a problem whether the priests are guilty or not, because if innocent, no defense is provided, and they are deemed monsters. If they are guilty, no investigation is conducted to convict them.

In a nutshell, it shows how a simple accusation can destroy a person's life. You see the effects of this right up until the heartbreaking ending. I actually caught myself sobbing in a parking lot in the car whilst waiting for Josh. I'm a bonehead.

Read it. It's good.

Dinner is Sad When Waiting for Your Husband to Get Home

2011-09-24T08:59:00.000-07:00

Alright, this week has been a really busy week for Joshua, so that means that when I cook dinner, I either eat alone on the couch or wait until after 10:30 at night to eat.

But, hey, that's no reason not to cook!

Wednesday, I decided to make a casserole because I didn't like the quality of the chicken breasts that I got. So I couldn't just eat them alone. Blech. I decided to shred them into a casserole. Crisis averted!

I put chicken at the bottom of my casserole dish, then I added orange juice (fresh squeezed. Not trying to act high faluting, I only had oranges in my fridge,) brown sugar, and melted butter. Then I got really lazy and put pre made stove top stuffing on top. It was good, but next time I need more salt or something. Too sweet!

Live and Learn. Onward!

Last night I made a pulled pork chili. It's bascially exactly like regular chili, but it has pulled pork instead of ground beef. (Ground beef turns my stomach. I'm like a little kid!) Just let it simmer in the crock pot all day. Yum! Josh is at a band competition all day, so this will be my dinner tonight, too!

Saturday Night Live is coming on tonight...yay!

Never Send a Man to do a Woman's Job

2011-09-20T15:33:00.000-07:00

I never thought that grocery shopping was a skill. Ever. Maybe that's because my mom was so good at it, and I learned from her.

I've included that preface, to make my story clearer. Ahem.

Last night, I took a look around my freezer, and I saw that I had chicken, and some Al Fresco chicken sausage that I got on sale at Publix and I really wanted to try. I looked online, and came across this cajun alfredo skillet thing, with all of the ingredients that I had on hand. Except for few.

Josh and I have been doing Financial Peace University, and one of the things we've done is use the envelope system for all of our spending money needs. I am the keeper of said envelopes because Josh doesn't want such responsibility.

All we needed was some milk, so I asked Josh to get some on the way home. He reminded me that I had the envelopes, but he could stop by and get them and run out to Bi-Lo.

Since he was going out for milk, I asked him to pick up some Cajun seasoning. Normally I just mix up a cajun seasoning myself, but since he was going out...why not? I also needed some Philadelphia cooking creme. Original. I needed him to pick some up because I realized that I only had the Italian one.

3 ingredients. Simple, right? He called me 2 times. For 3 ingredients. He couldn't fathom that cooking creme existed. I think he thought that I was an idiot and meant cream cheese. Yes, they are in the same section, but they are not the same thing. I told him to ask an employee. He agreed and hung up.

Not two minutes later, he called asking me if he could get creole seasoning instead of cajun seasoning. And then told me that he still hadn't found the cooking creme. I asked him if he found an employee. He said no. He hadn't even asked. For those of you who know Josh, you shouldn't be surprised. He will not ask anyone for help!

After asking someone for help (which was proceeded by a lot of fussing from me), he found it. It was right next to the cream cheese, where he was looking. He said that I told him the wrong color of the tub, so it was my fault.

Now, I didn't write this to rag on Josh, but to rag on all men. One of the most infamous stories about my father was when he bought us Happy Meals from McDonald's when it was buy one get one free. He ordered 3 Happy Meals, because he had 3 children. When the cashier told him that he could get one more free, he declined, because he only needed 3.

Right?

My mom berated him when he got home, because we could have had a free Happy Meal!

That was 10 years ago. Never forgotten.

Dinner ended up being delicious, by the way. I'll do the shopping from now on.

TV Update. You're Welcome.

2011-09-19T06:35:00.000-07:00

So, many things have happened in TV Land since I've written my last post...mainly, the Emmys!! It was kind of boring (sorry Jane Lynch, I will always love you) but some shows got acclaim that haven't before, and it was pretty exciting....

First of all, Modern Family basically swept the comedy category. Modern Family was definitely the Goliath, but it is honestly one of the funniest shows on television. There is not an episode where I don't laugh out loud. Now, when it came to the winners of the best supporting actor and actress. I was convinced that Ed O'Neill and Sophia Vergara were going to win, but it was actually Julie Bowena and Ty Burrell who won. (Phil and Claire Dunphy.) Now, I just love them all. I didn't care who won!

When the nominees for best actress in a comedy were announced, they all ran up and stood in a line like it was a beauty pageant. It was so funny! But, the best part was when Melissa McCarthy won for her role on "Mike and Molly." I love this show. I thought it was so underrated. The look on her face was priceless; she really didn't think that she was going to win!

For best actor in a comedy, Jim Parsons won for his role on "Big Bang Theory." I love this show, too! (It's hard finding one that I don't like, actually.) Parsons has won before, and this year, I really wanted Steve Carrell to win for his last season on "The Office." I thought that he did so so so well. Now, I don't really know if I'll watch the show. I think that they just should have ended it, honestly.

Modern Family won best comedy. Surprise, surprise.

Now, on to drama. For best supporting actress, Margo Martindale, who I've seen as a character actress in some random movies, won for her role on "Justified." Now, I've never seen this show, I have a super weak stomach, but my dad loves it. I also know that it's another underrated show. For best supporting actor, Peter Dinklage, from "Game of Thrones" won. Another show that I've heard is really good, but I wouldn't be able to see on account of how I'd barf. When I read that last sentence out loud, I sounded like Opie from "The Andy Griffith Show." Ugh. I've turned into a redneck.

Moving on...Julianna Margulies won best actress in a drama for "The Good Wife." I didn't care. I don't watch that show, so obviously I wasn't paying attention. Now, Kyle Chandler won best actor for his role on "Friday Night Lights." He has been the ultimate Emmy underdog since, like, how long the show has been on, so, forever. It was pretty exciting to see him get recognition, and he was so shocked by it, too! So sweet. It's nice to see humble celebrities.

Mad Men won for best drama, and EVERYONE thought that it was going to sweep all the drama categories. It was the Goliath, and it was brought down by the little David (s). Now, don't get me wrong. I luuuurrrrrve Mad Men, and I especially love Jon Hamm. This show makes me want to drink scotch at work, and I can't stand scotch. It also has one of the coolest theme songs ever.

For Mini-Series, or made for TV Movies, everyone thought that Mildred Pierce was going to win everything. Kate Winslet and Guy Pearce both won for best supporting actor and lead actress, but my personal favorite, "Downton Abbey," won everything else: writing, direction, best supporting actress (Maggie Smith) and best miniseries or TV Movie! Barry Pepper won best lead actor, which I thought was funny because everyone thought that The Kennedys was pretty craptastic.

The Daily Show won best variety show. I love the Daily Show, no qualms there. I did think it was sweet when Jon Stewart, in his acceptance speech, talked about what a good show Stephen Colbert has. Awww.....

Basically all the Emmys did was get me excited about all of my shows starting!! Yay!!!!!

Moving on to reality shows.......

I'm not watching Hell's Kitchen anymore. I refuse. I don't want anyone to win, and I think that the producers just want drama, not actual cooking talent. It's like a white trash "Top Chef." For those of you who don't watch, there were 5 people left: Will, who I kind of wanted to win, Paul, who I also kind of wanted to win (they were the 2 best chefs) Jennifer, the obese one whom I absolutely loved and who won all of the challenges for the ladies, Tommy, who I'm positive is stoned 24/7, and Elise, the crazy crazy lady who the producers have kept on too long just for the sake of drama and ratings. Jennifer had a bad dinner service that night, the first one all season, and Elise was on the fish station. Elise didn't cook one piece of fish right the whole time, and she was sent out. The guys decided to put Elise and Jennifer up for Ramsay to kick out, and Elise made a plea with the guys. She said that if they backed her up, she would help them. I thought Will and Paul had more sense than that.

So, Ramsay was trying to decide who to send home, and Will and Paul actually said that Elise was the better chef! I was absolutely shocked. Jennifer was standing there, with her mouth hanging open, stunned that everyone was against her. The only one who stood up against this nonesense was Tommy, who Ramsay just assumed was high and ignored. He kicked out Jennifer, and I felt so bad for her. I realized that this is a show just run by producers, and I don't feel like watching it ever again. I mean it! There are honestly tons of shows I already watch, I'll manage.

Speaking of other shows......Rachel won Big Brother!!! I was so so so so so happy, and I know that a lot of you in bloggerdom hate Rachel because she's obnoxious. Yes, she's annoying, but she won so many challenges, and she's been the underdog for so many weeks now.

Sigh.

All my shows start this week! Yay!

Her Fearful Symmetry

2011-09-09T10:11:00.000-07:00

I just finished this book, and it's by Audrey Niffenegger.

It's so hard to describe, because it's technically a ghost story, but it's not scary. It starts with the death of Elspeth, a woman in Britain, who we later find out has a twin in America, with her own set of twins. Elspeth and Edie are estranged from each other, and we don't know why. Elspeth left her estate to the twins, Julia and Valentina, her nieces, whom she had never met. The only stipulation is that they had to live in her flat for a year.

I didn't finish this as fast as I do most books, because it does have a slow, steady start. However, whenever this book reaches a climax, it does so in a frenzy. I couldn't put this book down, because I was afraid I was going to miss something. It never occurred to me that this was a book and not TV, and I could just put it down.

This book doesn't have a genre. It deals with ghosts, but it's not a horror. It deals with relationships between sisters, but it's definitely not a chick flick. It has romance, but this is not a romance book. It just.....is. And I like books like that!

I'm not going to give away anything, but the end was not what I would expect at all! It was strange, but fitting.

Seriously, read it, and let me know what you think! Let's start an online book club!