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Monday, January 31, 2011

dun-dun-da-duuuuun!

Seven a.m. wake up call to the soundtrack of Glee - "Forget You."  Mornings like this when I've had less than five hours of sleep, my eyes make a very unattractive puffy-squinty combo.  This winning combination makes me crabby and adds about fifty years to my face.

But this morning when I rolled over to check my e-mail on my bedside laptop (so unhealthy, I know, and also the reason I got less than five hours of sleep every night), my eyes shot wide open.

Thank you, sweet Amy at the Pink Pony for the award! 

So, now I'm supposed to write seven things about myself, then pass the award along to some bloggers whom I also believe are "versatile."  Due to my constant procrastination, this might take a while [side note: this post took almost a week for me to finish...see what I mean?].  But it will get done!  Promise!

And, guess what?  I'm bending the rules again...

I hate writing lists about myself, because it makes me feel very uninteresting.  So, I'll write seven things I believe in instead.  That okay?  Then y'all can draw your own conclusions about me, and I won't have to feel like a boring person when I get to number three and can't think of anything to write.

1. Despite my going back and forth the past year, I believe in God.  I believe that He loves me, and that He knows the number of hairs on my head.

2. I believe in having sisters.  Biological ones are great (hey, Caro!) - but the ones that you weren't given on purpose are pretty spectacular as well.

3. I believe in coffee.  Lots of coffee.

4. I believe in left handedness.

5. I believe in journalistic integrity: writing/showing the absolute truth in a creative way while protecting the underdogs who don't have a voice.

6. I believe nothing pours out more joy than singing.

7. Macs rule, Dells drool.







Happy Monday!

B.


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Friday, January 28, 2011

preordered today.


I think this woman is perfect storm of incredible and hilarious. 

Confession?  I've begun to wear my dark rimmed glasses more often.  Because I want to be incredible and hilarious. 

Also, I've watched every episode of 30 Rock.  They just keep getting better and better.

I can't wait until April 5th.  When that day comes, I will make the necessary means to read this cover to cover.  Placing all my priorities aside.  Stuff like school work.  What a sacrifice that will be...


Thanks for allowing me to indulge a post in my celebrity girl-crush.

Happy Friday!

B.
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Monday, January 24, 2011

the king's wife

"A bell's not a bell 'til you ring it.  A song's not a song 'til you sing it.  Love in your heart wasn't put there to stay.  Love isn't love 'til you give it away." 
-The Sound of Music

Pessimism has penetrated my thoughts of relationships the past couple of days.  I'm usually a look-at-the-bright-side kind of girl, but the conversations I've been having with people about their current marital status are so discouraging.

Everyone I have talked to has been cheated on.  Everyone.  Wives, husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends.  Everyone at one point or another has been affected by betrayal in their relationships.  Even me.

So, I'm watching t.v. with one of my guy friends, and one of the characters on the show cheated on her husband.

Me: [Staring straight ahead, under my breath, to myself more than him] I could never do that...
Him: You say that now.
Me: No, I could never do that.
Him: How do you know?
Me: I just know.
Him: But, you're not married.
Me: Thanks for the reminder...
Him: I'm just saying, you don't know what it's like. 
Me: True, but -

Him: You fall into those patterns every day, you get sidetracked, get tempted...
Me: Yeah, I know, but -
Him: It happens to lots of people.

He then went on to cite Biblical examples of women who were unfaithful to their men.  Samson and Delilah, anyone? 

I told him not to worry, I wasn't going to cut his hair off. 

But, shoot.  I couldn't argue with him.  Especially when he brought the freaking Bible into the debate.  He was totally right.  Cheating happens to lots of people.  It's happened to him.  Even people like me who swear from the beginning that they will always remain faithful.  Even those who are so concerned with people-pleasing, even the most loyal of friends. 

I think this is why this movie was so refreshing.  I learned a lot about love and marriage (or just relationships in general) from the King's Speech, watching the character of the Queen.  Just watching her character.

The movie begins with her search for a speech therapist for her stuttering husband.  She knows exactly what he needs, and she humbles herself on her quest to get it.  Abandoning her cushy life in her home, she ventures into the streets, and is treated like a regular citizen. 

She meets the therapist (without giving too much away), the protagonist, and treats him as an equal - which is more than what I can say for how her husband treated him. 

Throughout the movie, she didn't once raise her voice to her husband or get frustrated and argue with him when he wanted to give up.  She stood by him and patiently waited for him to arrive to the decision to stick with his therapy on his own.

She was never ashamed of his failures.  She loved him.  She was his biggest fan, whether he delivered a perfect speech or stammered and sputtered his words in utter humiliation.

What a beautiful thing.

It made me long to love someone in that way one day.  To embody that strength, to be that support, that patient kind, and faithful love that a man, that anyone deserves.  I hope I have the capacity and the opportunity to love someone in that way. 

If you all are blessed with that opportunity, don't let it go to waste.  Be faithful. 



B.
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Sunday, January 23, 2011

I should pay more attention to the pastor


Sunday afternoon is traditionally a time for the Christian demographic to reflect on what they learned earlier that day in service. 

And for napping.

Friends, I couldn't accomplish either of those today.  Not even the nap, and especially not the "Godly reflection."  Why?  Because not one, not two, but THREE infants were wearing these this morning:
To make matters worse, one of them had pierced ears.

Ridiculous. 

Don't get me wrong, I am pro-fashion.  But this is just exploitation to the max.  It's a cute idea in theory, but if your child is too small to sit up on her own, you should probably wait a few years before you begin weighing down your little bundle with gratuitous accessories. 

Plus if you start her off now, where will the fun be in trying on her grandmothers black pumps and pearls later on in life?  Is nothing sacred?


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I should pay more attention to the pastor

Sunday afternoon is traditionally a time for the Christian demographic to reflect on what they learned earlier that day in service. 

And for napping.

Friends, I couldn't accomplish either of those today.  Not even the nap, and especially not the "Godly reflection."  Why?  Because not one, not two, but THREE infants were wearing these this morning:
To make matters worse, one of them had pierced ears.

Ridiculous. 

Don't get me wrong, I am pro-fashion.  But this is just exploitation to the max.  It's a cute idea in theory, but if your child is too small to sit up on her own, you should probably wait a few years before you begin weighing down your little bundle with gratuitous accessories. 

Plus if you start her off now, where will the fun be in trying on her grandmothers black pumps and pearls later on in life?  Is nothing sacred?


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Thursday, January 20, 2011

cork it

Delight is making ninety dollars off of three tables. 

Serving is humbling.  Go figure, right?  And last night, I felt like Superwaitress.  I was singing Don't stop me noooowwww...I'm having such a good time...

I had just sold a $78 bottle of red wine to a three top table.  I. Was. Unstoppable.

But, as we all know...what happens when I get a big head?  Oh yeah, so put back in my place.



A coworker looked at me and said, "You know you have to present that wine to the table, right?"

"Uh, YEAH," I said with the most sass I could muster.  "I have been here four months you know.  I have learned something..."

He laughed it off like he thought I was joking.  And I do joke a lot.  So much that when I'm actually serious people think I'm joking.  I wasn't joking.  I hate it when people patronize me.  I don't joke about patronization.

I grabbed the bottle, and draped a fresh napkin across my arm and headed to the floor to present the wine. 



He called after me again, "It's a '99, so be sure the screw goes all the way through the cork."

I smiled and nodded, but inside my head was Grrrrrrrrrr.




So, I bounced to the table presented the wine.  The customer gave me the "go-ahead-and-pour" nod I wait for, and so I began to open the bottle and...

And the screw didn't go through the whole cork.  I mean, this wine was twelve years old.  The cork was brittle, and it broke into pieces in my palm.  The worst of it was, a fourth of the cork was left near the bottle's base of the neck. 

Whoops.

I panicked and left the table without saying a word.  Not like Superwaitress, more like Super-deer-caught-in-headlights-waitress.  I grabbed said coworker who was giving me such a hard time and looked at him all like fix it! 

Well, the cork fell in the wine.  And if you know anything about wine you not only know more than I do, you also know that cork in wine equals bad.  It's not only gross, it depletes the worth of the wine itself. 

And I had the audacity to be a bucket full of sass to my coworker.  What was I thinking?

So, brave coworker goes to explain the situation to the table.  And these guys are TOTALLY fine with it.  The man suggested an alternative...just pour the wine through a coffee filter.  Cork-be-gone!
 

I took the remainder of the wine to the table and apologized briefly to the gentlemen.  The man who ordered the wine looked at me, smiled and said, "I like it better this way, anyway." 


You know, we're all kind of like a bottle of wine.  We're complicated - at time fragrant (ew) - people.  We make mistakes.  And sometimes little remnants of cork fall into our lives.



And the best part is, it doesn't mess with our lives or deplete our worth.  We are loved and delighted in just the same. 
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cork it

Delight is making ninety dollars off of three tables. 

Serving is humbling.  Go figure, right?  And last night, I felt like Superwaitress.  I was singing Don't stop me noooowwww...I'm having such a good time...

I had just sold a $78 bottle of red wine to a three top table.  I. Was. Unstoppable.

But, as we all know...what happens when I get a big head?  Oh yeah, so put back in my place.



A coworker looked at me and said, "You know you have to present that wine to the table, right?"

"Uh, YEAH," I said with the most sass I could muster.  "I have been here four months you know.  I have learned something..."

He laughed it off like he thought I was joking.  And I do joke a lot.  So much that when I'm actually serious people think I'm joking.  I wasn't joking.  I hate it when people patronize me.  I don't joke about patronization.

I grabbed the bottle, and draped a fresh napkin across my arm and headed to the floor to present the wine. 



He called after me again, "It's a '99, so be sure the screw goes all the way through the cork."

I smiled and nodded, but inside my head was Grrrrrrrrrr.




So, I bounced to the table presented the wine.  The customer gave me the "go-ahead-and-pour" nod I wait for, and so I began to open the bottle and...

And the screw didn't go through the whole cork.  I mean, this wine was twelve years old.  The cork was brittle, and it broke into pieces in my palm.  The worst of it was, a fourth of the cork was left near the bottle's base of the neck. 

Whoops.

I panicked and left the table without saying a word.  Not like Superwaitress, more like Super-deer-caught-in-headlights-waitress.  I grabbed said coworker who was giving me such a hard time and looked at him all like fix it! 

Well, the cork fell in the wine.  And if you know anything about wine you not only know more than I do, you also know that cork in wine equals bad.  It's not only gross, it depletes the worth of the wine itself. 

And I had the audacity to be a bucket full of sass to my coworker.  What was I thinking?

So, brave coworker goes to explain the situation to the table.  And these guys are TOTALLY fine with it.  The man suggested an alternative...just pour the wine through a coffee filter.  Cork-be-gone!
 

I took the remainder of the wine to the table and apologized briefly to the gentlemen.  The man who ordered the wine looked at me, smiled and said, "I like it better this way, anyway." 


You know, we're all kind of like a bottle of wine.  We're complicated - at time fragrant (ew) - people.  We make mistakes.  And sometimes little remnants of cork fall into our lives.



And the best part is, it doesn't mess with our lives or deplete our worth.  We are loved and delighted in just the same. 
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Monday, January 17, 2011

these are the days

Pure contentment.

Forgive me, faithful friends, for my random drivel, I hope to be lovely and brighten your day.

I'm sitting in my quiet little apartment listening to the Julie and Julia soundtrack, and the rain plit, plit, plit against the large bay window  in my living room.  I'm currently dwelling on how faithful God has been to me over these last few weeks, despite my confusion. 

My apartment is clean, I've just done laundry and read an entire chapter for a class that's not even until Wednesday. 

My neighbor invited me over for chicken and noodles.  It was so nice to be served.  To have the humility to allow someone to take care of my needs and to not always have to be the one to take care of others.

The whole day has been like this.   Calming, relaxing and yet stimulating and exciting all at once. 


I just keep on thinking about how lucky I am to be pursuing my dreams.  To be in a place that encourages my thoughts and goals, and doesn't squelch them, or tell me that I can't do them. 

I have to treasure moments like these, because they don't happen very often.  Every day, I'm pulled in so many directions.  As a journalist I have so many passions and interests that sometimes it's hard to remember who I am beneath it all.

I met on of my friend's fathers last night.  I went over to her house to bake pigs in a blanket for a Christmas party with my coworkers.  He took one look at me and sized me up immediately:

FF (Friend's Father): You must not watch football.
Me: How do yo know?
FF: You're so feminine.

He also could tell I was left handed and said that left handed people have a problem with consistency.  He told me that he is also a lefty, and that sometimes he does wonderful artistic work, and other times it's just not that great.

And I thought to myself, yes.  I have that same problem with consistency.  There are bad days.  The days I get in trouble with my boss for tweeting about the inn, and days when I feel like everyone has some sort of minor critique, something they want to correct about me like my shirt's too wrinkled or my eyebrow is sticking up funny.

But then there are good days.  Days like today when I actually believe in myself.  Days that I both know and feel like the daughter of the King. 

Days when even though it's raining and my I Love Lucy umbrella breaks, life is still so utterly rich and sweet.

Happy Monday!

B.
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these are the days

Pure contentment.

Forgive me, faithful friends, for my random drivel, I hope to be lovely and brighten your day.

I'm sitting in my quiet little apartment listening to the Julie and Julia soundtrack, and the rain plit, plit, plit against the large bay window  in my living room.  I'm currently dwelling on how faithful God has been to me over these last few weeks, despite my confusion. 

My apartment is clean, I've just done laundry and read an entire chapter for a class that's not even until Wednesday. 

My neighbor invited me over for chicken and noodles.  It was so nice to be served.  To have the humility to allow someone to take care of my needs and to not always have to be the one to take care of others.

The whole day has been like this.   Calming, relaxing and yet stimulating and exciting all at once. 


I just keep on thinking about how lucky I am to be pursuing my dreams.  To be in a place that encourages my thoughts and goals, and doesn't squelch them, or tell me that I can't do them. 

I have to treasure moments like these, because they don't happen very often.  Every day, I'm pulled in so many directions.  As a journalist I have so many passions and interests that sometimes it's hard to remember who I am beneath it all.

I met on of my friend's fathers last night.  I went over to her house to bake pigs in a blanket for a Christmas party with my coworkers.  He took one look at me and sized me up immediately:

FF (Friend's Father): You must not watch football.
Me: How do yo know?
FF: You're so feminine.

He also could tell I was left handed and said that left handed people have a problem with consistency.  He told me that he is also a lefty, and that sometimes he does wonderful artistic work, and other times it's just not that great.

And I thought to myself, yes.  I have that same problem with consistency.  There are bad days.  The days I get in trouble with my boss for tweeting about the inn, and days when I feel like everyone has some sort of minor critique, something they want to correct about me like my shirt's too wrinkled or my eyebrow is sticking up funny.

But then there are good days.  Days like today when I actually believe in myself.  Days that I both know and feel like the daughter of the King. 

Days when even though it's raining and my I Love Lucy umbrella breaks, life is still so utterly rich and sweet.

Happy Monday!

B.
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Saturday, January 15, 2011

the games we play

The Virginia Beach Saturday afternoon.  The sky is a precious color blue, and the wind is a mild, yet motivating cold. 

My office windows look out on my little neighbors playing cowboys outside.  They make me smile, and I find myself longing to get lost in their little world of make believe. 

I crunch into my red delicious apple and try to dismiss thoughts of stolen property, the mounds of laundry to wash and chapters about research to read and the note left on my door yesterday saying that my student loans have not come through for this semester's tuition.


A bird is fastening a nest in a crepe-murdle.  I watch it hop from branch to branch and can't help but think that's exactly how I'm living my life.  Trying to find a balance - flitting from branch to branch, idea to idea, passion to passion, trying to construct a solid and sure me.

I spent the morning with one of my favorite people in one of my favorite places.  Barnes and Noble.  We, like the bird, wandered from shelf to shelf with our "Starbucks" coffees (his was decaf, mine was real) playing a game my sister and I learned from the Vlogbrothers.  Adding "in your pants" to the ends of book titles.

The funniest one we found?



Must you go...

In your pants?

Now, tell me that didn't make you laugh!

We looked through books about canoeing - he expressed to me today that he has an insatiable itch to go camping and to go on a great adventure.  And how a lot of men just want a woman to go on the adventure with them.

Then I think about my budding plans for a summer in Jerusalem.  I think about that bird right outside my window.  I think about my little neighbors playing cowboy.  And I think about how we all just want adventure.

I think about how the Virginia Beach Saturday afternoon is an adventure in and of itself, and how content I am to be the full time student slash waitress me on days like today.  And how I don't need to play cowboy for adventure in my life.  I'm in the middle of it right now.

Happy Saturday!

B.
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the games we play

The Virginia Beach Saturday afternoon.  The sky is a precious color blue, and the wind is a mild, yet motivating cold. 

My office windows look out on my little neighbors playing cowboys outside.  They make me smile, and I find myself longing to get lost in their little world of make believe. 

I crunch into my red delicious apple and try to dismiss thoughts of stolen property, the mounds of laundry to wash and chapters about research to read and the note left on my door yesterday saying that my student loans have not come through for this semester's tuition.


A bird is fastening a nest in a crepe-murdle.  I watch it hop from branch to branch and can't help but think that's exactly how I'm living my life.  Trying to find a balance - flitting from branch to branch, idea to idea, passion to passion, trying to construct a solid and sure me.

I spent the morning with one of my favorite people in one of my favorite places.  Barnes and Noble.  We, like the bird, wandered from shelf to shelf with our "Starbucks" coffees (his was decaf, mine was real) playing a game my sister and I learned from the Vlogbrothers.  Adding "in your pants" to the ends of book titles.

The funniest one we found?



Must you go...

In your pants?

Now, tell me that didn't make you laugh!

We looked through books about canoeing - he expressed to me today that he has an insatiable itch to go camping and to go on a great adventure.  And how a lot of men just want a woman to go on the adventure with them.

Then I think about my budding plans for a summer in Jerusalem.  I think about that bird right outside my window.  I think about my little neighbors playing cowboy.  And I think about how we all just want adventure.

I think about how the Virginia Beach Saturday afternoon is an adventure in and of itself, and how content I am to be the full time student slash waitress me on days like today.  And how I don't need to play cowboy for adventure in my life.  I'm in the middle of it right now.

Happy Saturday!

B.
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Thursday, January 13, 2011

like an unexpected hot pepper explosion

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Stir fry night. Six hours, three tables, eighteen dollars and one “to go” box full of fried rice and general tso's chicken.

In the end, not very lucrative – I was cut at about 8 because business was pretty slow - but very tastey.

I had been making pretty stupid mistakes all night long.  That's nothing out of the ordinary, I was just mindlessly and repeatedly ringing up people for pasta instead of stir fry.  No biggie.  But it's nights like those I get discouraged - I want to be good at what I do.

 One of my coworkers told me I needed to be more mindful. 

"Slow down, you're making too many mistakes," he said.  "You're moving so fast, just calm down and be mindful."

Yeah.  Good advice.  Me be mindful.  The girl with the frazzled curly hair and kitchen sink full of dirty dishes.  Who has time to be mindful when they're a full time student slash waitress?

I pretty much brushed the advice off, and didn't think another thing about it until I got home.  I had my "to go" box of stir fry goodness waiting for me, and I was starving.  Ten p.m., I was sitting in front of my computer, catching up on e-mails and shoveling my rice all spaazzy, like a kid digging the world's largest hole in really dry sand.

And then, during one of these sporadic fork shoveling excursions to my mouth I happened to look down at my fork...

And there was one of those adorable ("adorable" being code for YEEHAW, LETHAL!)little peppers that if you bite into your tongue will spontaneously combust into volcanic ash.  They are really hot.  And I was about to chow down on one of those suckers.

Mindlessly. 

Let me just say, when I was little I totally bit into one that was in our Chinese food we had ordered.  I was all Look, mom!  I'm a B.A. eating a pepper, look at me gooooo...woah.  WOAH.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!  

I screamed, I cried, I ran around the house, I wiggled my hands.  I felt like my face was turning inside out.  My mom made me sit down in the living room and stick my tongue in a glass of milk for 30 minutes.

So it's a good thing I stopped myself mid-chow the other night because the milk in my fridge right now is probably expired, and running around my apartment screaming was not an option because my neighbors have small children.

But it's crazy the stuff we can do because we're not mindful.

Dr. Robertson made news again for expressing his freedom of speech.  

And though I don't want this to be a forum for arguing about gay rights, or bashing certain outspoken evangelical Christian leaders, I do think it's important that we all slow down and be mindful of the things we say.

Because sometimes even the smallest of our words can erupt.  Like a little green pepper hidden in your fried rice.



Happy Thursday!

B.




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like an unexpected hot pepper explosion


Stir fry night. Six hours, three tables, eighteen dollars and one “to go” box full of fried rice and general tso's chicken.

In the end, not very lucrative – I was cut at about 8 because business was pretty slow - but very tastey.

I had been making pretty stupid mistakes all night long.  That's nothing out of the ordinary, I was just mindlessly and repeatedly ringing up people for pasta instead of stir fry.  No biggie.  But it's nights like those I get discouraged - I want to be good at what I do.

 One of my coworkers told me I needed to be more mindful. 

"Slow down, you're making too many mistakes," he said.  "You're moving so fast, just calm down and be mindful."

Yeah.  Good advice.  Me be mindful.  The girl with the frazzled curly hair and kitchen sink full of dirty dishes.  Who has time to be mindful when they're a full time student slash waitress?

I pretty much brushed the advice off, and didn't think another thing about it until I got home.  I had my "to go" box of stir fry goodness waiting for me, and I was starving.  Ten p.m., I was sitting in front of my computer, catching up on e-mails and shoveling my rice all spaazzy, like a kid digging the world's largest hole in really dry sand.

And then, during one of these sporadic fork shoveling excursions to my mouth I happened to look down at my fork...

And there was one of those adorable ("adorable" being code for YEEHAW, LETHAL!)little peppers that if you bite into your tongue will spontaneously combust into volcanic ash.  They are really hot.  And I was about to chow down on one of those suckers.

Mindlessly. 

Let me just say, when I was little I totally bit into one that was in our Chinese food we had ordered.  I was all Look, mom!  I'm a B.A. eating a pepper, look at me gooooo...woah.  WOAH.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!  

I screamed, I cried, I ran around the house, I wiggled my hands.  I felt like my face was turning inside out.  My mom made me sit down in the living room and stick my tongue in a glass of milk for 30 minutes.

So it's a good thing I stopped myself mid-chow the other night because the milk in my fridge right now is probably expired, and running around my apartment screaming was not an option because my neighbors have small children.

But it's crazy the stuff we can do because we're not mindful.

Dr. Robertson made news again for expressing his freedom of speech.  

And though I don't want this to be a forum for arguing about gay rights, or bashing certain outspoken evangelical Christian leaders, I do think it's important that we all slow down and be mindful of the things we say.

Because sometimes even the smallest of our words can erupt.  Like a little green pepper hidden in your fried rice.



Happy Thursday!

B.




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Monday, January 10, 2011

there is no better excuse for putting off class assignments than filing a police report...

I woke up this morning with a sense of empowerment.  For the first time in ages, I sprung from my sheets, productively made my bed, cranked up the tunes and cleaned my entire apartment.

All before the ripe hour of 8 a.m., and all before coffee was streaming through my blood veins. 

Quelle impress!

So I said to myself: Self, let's take a trip to your favorite coffee shop and spend the day reading the five chapters due for discussion in your Evaluation Methods class.  Yeah!
(Like a dog in training, I perform better when there is a treat involved).

I threw on my favorite silver flats, grabbed my green Coach purse and headed out the door.  Click-clacking away, hair bouncing, I was a confident, tenacious woman.  A force not to be reckoned with. 

Nothing and no one can get in my way.

Real live lesson learned before 10 a.m. today?  Pride comes before fall. 

When I got to Georgia (the name of my '97 red Toyota Camry), I realized my car doors were unlocked.

Huh, I thought to myself.  Good thing I live in a Christian community where absolutely nothing happens.  La-dee-dah!

I sat in the driver's seat and went through my little checklist I've gotten in the habit of running through my head when I first began learning how to drive.

Click the safety belt.  Check!
Placed my hands at 10 and 2.  Check!
Adjust mirror.  Check!
Put keys in ignition.  Check!
Turn on CD player. Ch -

Uh...turn on CD player...?
 
Totally not check.

CD player totally missing from vehicle.

So then I went through emergency checklist for the day.

Call police department to file a statement.  Check.
Talk with officer about the nine break ins within the last month in my neighborhood.  Check.
Make a joke about a car with a Cowboys decal getting its windows bashed because of all of the Michael Vick fans in the area.  (Because I'm the queen of splashing in humor at inappropriate times)  Check.
Call dad on the verge of tears.  Check.
Go to favorite coffee shop and order extra large emergency coffee.  Oh, SO check.


I guess this will teach me not to let my guard down EVER. 




It's stuff like this that makes me realize how important the field of communication is.  No one ever mentioned anything about the break ins in my neighborhood.  If I had known, I would have been a little more careful about locking up Georgia after returning home from my emergency mocha excursion last night...

Anyway...hope y'alls Mondays got off to a better start!

B.


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there is no better excuse for putting off class assignments than filing a police report...

I woke up this morning with a sense of empowerment.  For the first time in ages, I sprung from my sheets, productively made my bed, cranked up the tunes and cleaned my entire apartment.

All before the ripe hour of 8 a.m., and all before coffee was streaming through my blood veins. 

Quelle impress!

So I said to myself: Self, let's take a trip to your favorite coffee shop and spend the day reading the five chapters due for discussion in your Evaluation Methods class.  Yeah!
(Like a dog in training, I perform better when there is a treat involved).

I threw on my favorite silver flats, grabbed my green Coach purse and headed out the door.  Click-clacking away, hair bouncing, I was a confident, tenacious woman.  A force not to be reckoned with. 

Nothing and no one can get in my way.

Real live lesson learned before 10 a.m. today?  Pride comes before fall. 

When I got to Georgia (the name of my '97 red Toyota Camry), I realized my car doors were unlocked.

Huh, I thought to myself.  Good thing I live in a Christian community where absolutely nothing happens.  La-dee-dah!

I sat in the driver's seat and went through my little checklist I've gotten in the habit of running through my head when I first began learning how to drive.

Click the safety belt.  Check!
Placed my hands at 10 and 2.  Check!
Adjust mirror.  Check!
Put keys in ignition.  Check!
Turn on CD player. Ch -

Uh...turn on CD player...?
 
Totally not check.

CD player totally missing from vehicle.

So then I went through emergency checklist for the day.

Call police department to file a statement.  Check.
Talk with officer about the nine break ins within the last month in my neighborhood.  Check.
Make a joke about a car with a Cowboys decal getting its windows bashed because of all of the Michael Vick fans in the area.  (Because I'm the queen of splashing in humor at inappropriate times)  Check.
Call dad on the verge of tears.  Check.
Go to favorite coffee shop and order extra large emergency coffee.  Oh, SO check.


I guess this will teach me not to let my guard down EVER. 




It's stuff like this that makes me realize how important the field of communication is.  No one ever mentioned anything about the break ins in my neighborhood.  If I had known, I would have been a little more careful about locking up Georgia after returning home from my emergency mocha excursion last night...

Anyway...hope y'alls Mondays got off to a better start!

B.


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Sunday, January 9, 2011

and so it begins


Ah, procrastination, my late-night friend.  It's been two weeks since I've fit you into my schedule.  And I tell you what, it feels good to have you back in my life.

Today, I realized just how many assignments I have to complete before my Tuesday classes, on top of waitressing full time.

And instead of chipping away at it, I went to Bojangles with a friend (more on that later, tomorrow, or maybe the day after...), took a nap, watched Legally Blonde, made dinner, and drove to Starbucks to grab an emergency mocha. 

I told my friend TJ today that I was just trying to hold on to the hem of freedom for another night before the pressures of graduate school commenced. 

I owe that to myself, right?

Even now, I have so many thoughts and ideas running through my head that I can't even put off things productively by writing a concrete blog post.

Rats!

Maybe one day I'll conquer the beast.  In the mean time, I bought myself this daily planner...
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and so it begins


Ah, procrastination, my late-night friend.  It's been two weeks since I've fit you into my schedule.  And I tell you what, it feels good to have you back in my life.

Today, I realized just how many assignments I have to complete before my Tuesday classes, on top of waitressing full time.

And instead of chipping away at it, I went to Bojangles with a friend (more on that later, tomorrow, or maybe the day after...), took a nap, watched Legally Blonde, made dinner, and drove to Starbucks to grab an emergency mocha. 

I told my friend TJ today that I was just trying to hold on to the hem of freedom for another night before the pressures of graduate school commenced. 

I owe that to myself, right?

Even now, I have so many thoughts and ideas running through my head that I can't even put off things productively by writing a concrete blog post.

Rats!

Maybe one day I'll conquer the beast.  In the mean time, I bought myself this daily planner...
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Thursday, January 6, 2011

I get so excited about 2011 because

...I could be living here this summer. 
...and I could be doing this.  Like, for real.








Just in that fun little phase between the dreaming and coming true.
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I get so excited about 2011 because

...I could be living here this summer. 
...and I could be doing this.  Like, for real.








Just in that fun little phase between the dreaming and coming true.
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Wednesday, January 5, 2011

shut up and shoot!




My very good friend Padmakshi (aka Paddy-cakes) and I doing a "before" documentary while we are waiting for our mini-documentary class.



We like our book, because it reminds us of Lilly Moschovitz's cable show "Shut Up and Listen" from the Princess Diaries. 

Happy Wednesdays!
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shut up and shoot!

video


My very good friend Padmakshi (aka Paddy-cakes) and I doing a "before" documentary while we are waiting for our mini-documentary class.



We like our book, because it reminds us of Lilly Moschovitz's cable show "Shut Up and Listen" from the Princess Diaries. 

Happy Wednesdays!
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Tuesday, January 4, 2011

there are so many things

...I should be not be doing right now.  Blogging is one of them.

I also should not have stayed up so late and eaten two pieces of Lindt chocolate right before I went to bed.  Hello, nightmare city.  I keep having this reoccurring nightmare where people I serve at the inn ask me over and over again for cherries.  Just plain cherries.  Thousands of cherries.  We of course don't have any, so I keep having to deliver bad news to all the tables I serve. 

I told this nightmare to some of my coworkers and instead of comforting me they started calling me "little cherry."  Delightful.


I have about an hour to drink as much coffee as possible before the start of my spring semester at Regent.  First (and only, praise!) class of the day?  COM 601: Evaluation Methods.

If I have to do any math in this class, I am dropping out. Of school.  I don't care if it's a required course.  I'll just run away.

Side note: Calling spring semester "spring semester" in the dead of winter is one of the most depressing things ever (see photo above).


Have a wonderful Tuesday!
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there are so many things

...I should be not be doing right now.  Blogging is one of them.

I also should not have stayed up so late and eaten two pieces of Lindt chocolate right before I went to bed.  Hello, nightmare city.  I keep having this reoccurring nightmare where people I serve at the inn ask me over and over again for cherries.  Just plain cherries.  Thousands of cherries.  We of course don't have any, so I keep having to deliver bad news to all the tables I serve. 

I told this nightmare to some of my coworkers and instead of comforting me they started calling me "little cherry."  Delightful.


I have about an hour to drink as much coffee as possible before the start of my spring semester at Regent.  First (and only, praise!) class of the day?  COM 601: Evaluation Methods.

If I have to do any math in this class, I am dropping out. Of school.  I don't care if it's a required course.  I'll just run away.

Side note: Calling spring semester "spring semester" in the dead of winter is one of the most depressing things ever (see photo above).


Have a wonderful Tuesday!
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Monday, January 3, 2011

always a bridesmaid

...is alright with me.  Especially if it's always this much fun.  This weekend I had the privilege of walking down the aisle to honor one of my closest and most special friends since the third grade. 

She and her fiance wanted to get married on 1.1.11.  So cute.

And I will forever be grateful for not being obliged to wait tables on New Years Eve - and for getting to wear a pretty red dress. 

And my shoes?  Also red.  Ruby red.  They are safely packed away with the things I'm taking back to Regent with me. 

 We went to a tres delicious barbecue joint for the rehearsal dinner.
Thank goodness her husband didn't have to carry her across this teeny tiny little threshold.  We barely fit through! 

 Two of my favorite people in the entire world.  The bride and T.J.
 So, I'm not allowed to post any pictures from the bachelorette party.  Something to do with the condoms we made the bride put on every time she mentioned her fiance's name.  Which was quite often because his first name is the same as both her brother AND father.  Let's just say, she had a few slip ups.  But, part of the party was a scavenger hunt.  I had to ask five men what their philosophy of marriage was.  Aside from the "Forever faithful and never alone" quote by Steven at the top, the world of marriage looks pretty bleak...at least for those of us who didn't get hitched on New Year's day.
 The coolest bridesmaids ever.  How many wedding parties pretend that their wraps are superhero capes and sing "Hakunah Matata" and "The Circle of Life" while waiting to walk down the aisle? 
Kelli, cousin of the bride.  She works a Seaworld.  She's awesome.  'Nuff said? 
 The beautiful bride.  Who knew that skipping Sunday school to walk to 7-11 could lead to such a wonderful and lasting friendship.

My mom, in charge of hair and makeup for the bride, tried to hijack the veil.  Not really.

Hope you all had a happy and blessed beginning to 2011!

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always a bridesmaid

...is alright with me.  Especially if it's always this much fun.  This weekend I had the privilege of walking down the aisle to honor one of my closest and most special friends since the third grade. 

She and her fiance wanted to get married on 1.1.11.  So cute.

And I will forever be grateful for not being obliged to wait tables on New Years Eve - and for getting to wear a pretty red dress. 

And my shoes?  Also red.  Ruby red.  They are safely packed away with the things I'm taking back to Regent with me. 

 We went to a tres delicious barbecue joint for the rehearsal dinner.
Thank goodness her husband didn't have to carry her across this teeny tiny little threshold.  We barely fit through! 

 Two of my favorite people in the entire world.  The bride and T.J.
 So, I'm not allowed to post any pictures from the bachelorette party.  Something to do with the condoms we made the bride put on every time she mentioned her fiance's name.  Which was quite often because his first name is the same as both her brother AND father.  Let's just say, she had a few slip ups.  But, part of the party was a scavenger hunt.  I had to ask five men what their philosophy of marriage was.  Aside from the "Forever faithful and never alone" quote by Steven at the top, the world of marriage looks pretty bleak...at least for those of us who didn't get hitched on New Year's day.
 The coolest bridesmaids ever.  How many wedding parties pretend that their wraps are superhero capes and sing "Hakunah Matata" and "The Circle of Life" while waiting to walk down the aisle? 
Kelli, cousin of the bride.  She works a Seaworld.  She's awesome.  'Nuff said? 
 The beautiful bride.  Who knew that skipping Sunday school to walk to 7-11 could lead to such a wonderful and lasting friendship.

My mom, in charge of hair and makeup for the bride, tried to hijack the veil.  Not really.

Hope you all had a happy and blessed beginning to 2011!

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