as a bee

Life is busy right now. Hyper-busy. The kind of busy where you're so busy that you feel guilty sleeping, because it seems like you're wasting time in which you could otherwise be productive. Things should slow down around the end of October, and I'm very much looking forward to that.

In the meantime, I probably won't be blogging too much, unless it's one of those nights where it is 3am and I can't sleep, or the stress builds up to a point where a public catharsis is necessary.

But, I have updated the other blog, and I figure that is probably enough soul baring to cover the next month and a half, anyway.

And now, back to work...

mourning the end of summer

Events of the day so far:

*woke up at 3 a.m. and couldn't fall back to sleep because I was too busy worrying about all of the things that need to be accomplished this week
*finally got out of bed at 6 a.m., showered quickly, begrudgingly put on dressy clothes and heels, and scarfed down a piece of pizza on my way out the door, in order to make it to work by 7 a.m. and prep for a morning meeting
*got stuck in terrible traffic between campuses
*had 190 emails that I had to process and respond to (due to my previous week off)
*scheduled three more meetings for the week, bringing the weekly total to 7 meetings
*was informed that scheduling has changed, and now things that I thought I had at least 6 weeks to finish now have to be done in 2 to 3 weeks
*realized that I triple-booked myself on Wednesday, without figuring out how to be 3 places at once

Yep, school is definitely back in session, and I can already tell it's gonna be an interesting year...

out of office auto reply

If I should seem particularly absent from blogging this week, it's because my friend Mary and I have escaped to the beach for a week of sleeping in, lounging on the white sands with good books and gossip mags, eating lots of fresh seafood, drinking fruity cocktails we would never order at the Edge, dancing to steel drum bands, outlet shopping, and sipping wine by the pool as the sun goes down.

We just finished our first balmy, 80-degree morning sitting by the pier and watching the waves roll in and are now off to a lunch of fresh, briny Apalachicola oysters.

As my niece would say, "Yay beach!"

next up

My first race since the half-marathon. Hopefully, it won't already be hotter than hades by 7:30am on Saturday.

And yes, I am totally going to wear all red for the run. Maybe I can even find a tomato-print bandana...

magnificent seven

This post is a little belated, because I don't have any of my good pictures on the home computer, so I couldn't post over the weekend.

On Saturday, one of my most favoritest people in the world turned seven. Yes, she's so cool that I have to be completely grammatically incorrect and make up words just to express how fantabulous she is.

She is a beautiful, fun, silly princess:


She is a cheerleader and encourager to others around her:


She is a fearless adventurer:


She is the walrus, goo goo g'joob:


And she is, most certainly, the apple of her Aunt TT's eye:


Happiest of birthdays, sweet one--you have brought so much joy and laughter into this girl's life that it's hard to imagine what the world was like before you were here. May this new year of your life be your best one yet. I love you dearly.

revenge of the cheese

I love cheese, but cheese does not always love me. So, I have to be careful. I've found that it's best if I limit my cheese consumption to small portions. But sometimes, I can't help myself.

Today, the lunchroom served up pizza, salad, and fried mozzarella sticks. I'm not a big fan of the flat, rectangular school-cafeteria-style pizza, so I supplemented my salad with a half-dozen golden delicious mozzarella sticks.

Oh yum.

And then, oh god.

Let's just say it's been a rough afternoon. But, it has inspired a haiku:

ate six fried cheese sticks
now I'm a salad shooter-
lactose intolerance

Hey, it's Friday-- goofy inappropriateness is totally allowed.

it's official

Yep, it is now completely official...my parents have hit the mid-life crisis stage. The term "mid-life crisis" is often used to describe a person, usually in his 40's or 50's, who suddenly engages in uncharacteristic behavior that seems like an attempt to reclaim some of his youth. Examples of such behavior might be: leaving one's family for a fling, quitting one's job and running off to the islands, buying a fancy sports car or boat, or undergoing extensive plastic surgery.

So why do I think my parents have hit this stage? Well, they just emailed me pictures of their most recent purchase:





So, Mom and Bob, all I can say is, if you decide to run off to the islands next, please take me with you!

4 x 4

So I got one of those forwarded e-mail surveys from a friend today, but rather than filling in my answers and sending it along, I thought I would post it here instead. Why? Well, a) because it is lunch time and I am taking a break from work as I am chowing on my Calypso tuna salad, b) I haven't been inspired to write about anything in over a week, so the blog has been looking a little stale, and c) a lot of my friends hate receiving forwarded e-mails.

The "4 things you may or may not have known about me" survey:

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. HR assistant at the bus company in Chattanooga (CARTA)
2. waitressing at Olive Garden (which is why I never eat there anymore)
3. copy editing intern at Miller Freeman Publishing in NYC--for Insurance & Technology magazine (riveting stuff to read, I tell ya)
4. sales clerk at Brookstone--and yes, we totally played with all of the gadgets after closing

Four movies I've watched more than once:
1. Princess Bride (anybody wanna peanut?)
2. Life is Beautiful
3. National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
4. Breakfast at Tiffany's

Four places I have lived:
1. Chattanooga, TN
2. Franklin, TN
3. NYC
4. Nashville, TN
wow...maybe I should aim for moving out of TN next...

Four TV Shows I watch
1. How I Met Your Mother
2. Hell's Kitchen
3. House
4. Dexter

Four places I have been:
1. Italy
2. France
3. Australia
4. Jamaica

Four of my favorite foods
1. Sushi
2. Thai
3. Potatoes
4. Hummus
(ok, so I realize that 2 of those are foods and 2 are types of food...but whatever, it's my list)

Four Places I love to shop:
1. TJ Maxx
2. Katwalk Shoes
3. Fabu
4. Woodland Wine Merchant

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. At a beach
2. Out west visiting friends (either in CO or CA)
3. Backpacking through Europe
4. On a boat

And now, my salad is done, and it's time for me to get back to event-planning. Hopefully, I can come up with something a tad more original for my next post...

recipe for fun

Ingredients of the weekend: girlfriends, laughter, wine, bright red shoes with 4-inch heels, the greatest cab ride ever, jello shots, Elvis sunglasses, honky-tonks, funny pictures with statues on 2nd Avenue, dancing, a blinking red necklace, 2 a.m. french onion dip, facials, Nashville's Most Wanted Pizza, pajamas and funky footwear, sparkle nail polish, a slightly modified version of pin the tail on the donkey, a pink caboodle, quizzes from a teen magazine, a documentary on a certain type of body puppetry that was disturbing on so many levels, make-your-own sundaes, a scary cactus, a dvd trivia game with a surprise video appearance by Todd, Pop Rocks, staying up late, sleeping in, mimosas, porch-sitting, and incredible amounts of food.

Put them all together, and what do you get? One of the best weekends ever, with some of the most fabulous friends a girl could ever ask for. Thank you, Mary V., for the extraordinary amount of time and heart you put into making it such a special weekend, and thank you to all of my friends who contributed to the celebration. You all, quite simply, rock my world.

sometimes

Sometimes, life throws you a curve ball.

And then sometimes, life throws 100-mile-per-hour fast pitch straight at your head.

What a game.

what's left

Every now and then, I go through periods where I contemplate my place in life. I think about the things I have already accomplished, and I think about the goals and dreams that I would like to realize before I leave this earth. The questions that most often siege my soul are: "What have I contributed? Have I had a positive effect on the lives of those around me? How have I improved the community, and the world, that I live in? And what have I given or accomplished that will remain after I am gone?"

At 31, I hope to have many more years to answer these questions, but the reality is that we never know how many years, or days, we have left in this life. It is a slightly morbid consideration, but it's something that I think about--perhaps because I work in development, and we talk a lot about "leaving a legacy." In that context, we are generally referring to a financial gift/bequest, but since I know that I will likely never have the ability to leave a monetary legacy, I ponder the other ways of leaving behind something meaningful.

During these times of contemplation, I enjoy reading verses and quotations that inspire me in my endeavors to make a positive mark on the world. One such piece follows:

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.
-(often attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson, but originally penned by Bessie Stanley)

bitten

Sometimes, I think WebMD can read my mind.

I receive their weekly e-mail newsletters, and every now and then, the email title seems to be specifically directed at me. For example, I recently opened my inbox to find the title "Are you a mosquito magnet?", and I immediately had to click through to read the featured article. You see, I have been pondering that exact same question quite a lot lately.

Mosquitos love me. They long to be near me. Sometimes I think that I can see them staring in my windows, just waiting for me to come outside. I'm not sure, but I think that there must have been a write-up in the Mosquito World News that said something like, "If you're ever in Nashville, TN, be sure to stop by TT's for a quick bite to eat. Ask for a seat on the back or upper arms--those are the best spots. It can get a little crowded at times, but it's worth it."

If I played connect-the-dots with all of the bites I currently have, it would look like a full-body tattoo gone horribly awry. There are so many that I actually asked Todd yesterday if he thought it could be chicken pox instead of mosquito bites. He just looked at me like I was crazy. He does that a lot.

When I was little, my mom used to tell me that the mosquitos liked me because I was "so sweet." What I found out from the article is that some people truly are more attractive to mosquitos than others--specifically, people who have more cholesterol or steroids on their skin surface, or people who give off larger amounts of certain acids or carbon dioxide tend to attract more mosquitos. Lovely. I think I liked mom's theory better.

Since I can't alter my body chemistry very easily, I guess I'll just have to start bathing in a mixture of Cutter and Off, and buy a little stock in Calamine lotion. At least then I can amuse the small children in the mall, as they tug at their mom's shirts and say, "Look, mom, there goes a pink polka-dotted lady!"

you shall not pass

I just saw this slideshow of the Top 10 Most Commonly Used Online Passwords, according to PC Magazine. The top four:

1. password
2. 123456
3. qwerty
4. abc123

Um, really? No wonder it's so incredibly easy for hackers to break into online accounts. Are we really that un-creative, or are our memories just so bad that we can't handle anything more complicated? And honestly, why don't more people use antidisestablishmentarianism? I figured that would at least be #8.

Reason #27 why I will not be going vegan...

Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.



I'm not generally a big cheerleader for chain restaurants or their food, but holy crap. This little piece of chocolatey goodness made my day yesterday.

preach on, helen reddy

I tend to describe myself as a pretty independent woman.

I remember very clearly, around the time of my parents' divorce, my mom looked at me and said "Never let yourself become dependent upon a man." This message emblazoned itself on my brain, and I have tried to live accordingly ever since. I can kill my own spiders, mow my own lawn, pay all my own bills, read maps by myself, and use power tools to fix things. I have followed my mother's advice in almost every way, except when it comes to one thing.

Flat tires.

For some reason, whenever I get a flat tire (which happens to me quite often--I can get a flat tire just by thinking about one), my first instinct is to call a boy. I'm pretty sure, in our first year of dating alone, Todd changed three flats for me. I am quick to look for help in this area, and I've even played the "damsel in distress" on the side of the highway and let a benevolent motorist change the tire for me. I know, it's terrible.

But then, today happened.

I was on my way home from running at the park, and as I was driving down the street, I hit something. I could hear a clicking noise, and I assumed that I ran over something that was now stuck and being dragged under the car. So I pulled into the driveway, and as soon as I got out, I could hear the air gushing out of one of the tires. I had hit a pair of pliers, and somehow one of the handles of the pliers had become completely lodged in the tire. (I honestly don't know how these things happen to me.)

My first thought, as I stood there looking at the completely flat tire? Crap, Todd is out of town.

My second thought? I could call my running partner. Since I had just finished running with him, I knew he was out and about.

I sent him a text message inquiring about his availability to help, and as I was sitting in my driveway waiting for his response, I re-evaluated the situation.

1. It was around 9:00am on a Saturday morning, and I really didn't have anywhere else I needed to be.
2. My car was conveniently located in my own driveway, away from any traffic.
3. I was already sweaty and gross from running.

So I asked myself, could there be any better opportunity for me to teach myself to change a tire?
And my answer? Probably not.

So I sent another text message saying that I thought I might have everything under control, and I went to work. Having watched my tire get changed plenty of times, I had a pretty good idea of what had to happen. And, in fact, I only made one mistake, which was jacking up the car before I loosened the lug nuts on the tire. So, I let it back down, loosened the lug nuts, then jacked it back up.

And then I proceeded to change my tire, all my myself. And when I drove it to the tire store in Rivergate, guess what? The spare totally didn't fall off.

And you know what I was thinking then? Oh, yeah:

"I am strong, I am invincible, I am woooooooooooman!"

(You knew that was coming, right?)

I could be just slightly neurotic...

It's possible. I do have some habits that could lean toward that description.

For example, I will check under the bed from time to time, particularly when Todd is out of town, just to make sure that there aren't any axe murderers lying in wait for me to hit REM sleep before they jump out and go all ginsu on my dormant body. Of course, now that I have dogs I tend to do this less often, because I assume that one of them would alert me if someone was hiding under my bed, especially since that is at their nose level and all. I guess I tend to think that axe murderers would be fairly odoriferous and catch the attention of my nosy mutts.

And then there's work, where we have a slight brown recluse problem. And by "slight" I mean that we see them scurrying down the hall or along the wall quite often, which means that there are probably 2,000 more hiding behind the walls. So, everytime I go to the bathroom, I lift the toilet seat and look underneath, just to make sure that one of the little buggers isn't crouching under there, ready to take a bite out of my bum when I sit down. Brown recluse bites ain't no joke--they make your skin and muscle tissue fall off. Not that I would mind terribly if part of my bum fell off, so I could fit in my size 6 jeans again...but I would prefer that the venom of a recluse spider not be involved.

And finally, the car. And parking lots. I'm always hyper-vigilant when walking to my car in a parking lot, because I've heard too many stories about people's ankles being slashed by gang members hiding under the cars, or stowaways hidden in the backseat (again with the axe murderers), and so on and so forth. I realize that most of these tales are urban myths, but still. Also, if there is a large white van parked on the driver's side of my car, I will be entering my car from the passenger side, thank you. Of course, the irony here is that my soon-to-be husband drives a large, white van. Now, if Todd wants to surprise me and pull me into the back of his van to have his way with me, I'm ok with that. As long as he moves the table saw out of the way. With other random vans, I'm not going to take my chances.

So maybe I'm not actually neurotic, maybe I'm just a little bit of a scaredy-cat. But, if my overactive fear anxieties keep me from getting my butt dissolved by a spider bite, or prevent me from being kid-napped (adult-napped?) in a Target parking lot, or mean that an axe murderer is going to have to kill me to my face instead of in my sleep, then so be it. Call me a scaredy-cat all you want.

i do my little turn on the katwalk

It's official. Ya'll, I just found a new place to feed my shoe addiction.

And you know I only break out the "ya'll" when I'm really excited.

As many of my friends know, I have been a frequent shopper at "Shoe Time", which I lovingly refer to as the ghetto shoe mart. It's a tiny storefront in a strip mall on Gallatin Road, right next to the Save-a-Lot. And it has been my go-to place for cheap, unique shoes.

However, for the last few weeks, their blinking neon "open" sign has been darkened. There still appears to be inventory inside, so everytime I drive by, I think "maybe today...maybe they've just been on vacation...maybe they did a huge, 4-week restocking extravaganza." Yet, nothing.

But then, the other day, I noticed something.

Down the street about a block, on the other side of the road, a new shoe store has opened. Enter, Katwalk Shoes. My curiosity got the better of me, so yesterday, I went in to explore.

Ladies, it is a bright and shiny shoe mecca. The Gallatin Road version of Off Broadway.

Need some pink leopard-print kicks? Oh yeah, they got 'em.

Want a lime green pair of stilettos, with a metallic heel? Right here, aisle 2.

How about some sandals that make it look like a bejeweled serpent is slithering up your foot? Yep. In three colors, no less.

Ok, so there may be quite a few shoes in here that you would never really purchase, unless you have a hot date on Dickerson Pike later, but there are a plethora of cute shoes in the mix as well.

And the best part? None of them are over $20.

So, my exploring adventure quickly turned into a purchasing adventure, and I walked out with some strappy sandals with a tall cork wedge heel that make me about 6-foot-5 when I wear them. Absolutely fabulous.

And as I checked out, the very nice sales girl let me know that they get in new inventory every Monday.

Katwalk Tuesdays, anyone? I see a tradition beginning...

letting the days go by

Things I have learned about myself recently, in no particular order:

* I have a hole in my head. No, really. There's a very large dent/soft spot in my skull near the front of my head, and I'm not sure if it just recently occurred, or if I just recently discovered it. It's disconcerting, but I probably won't go to the doctor about it unless it gets bigger, or unless I start randomly fainting.
* I really don't like fake meat products that try too hard to taste like meat. I know that my Chik'n Griller is made of soy, so I'm o.k. with it if it tastes more like tofu than meat. If it tastes more like a freezer-burned version of a McD's chicken patty, then ick.
* I can still get a tan. I thought I had lost the ability to tan, because I haven't had much color to my skin since the mid-90's. However, doing lots of yardwork lately has led to a nice golden skin tone. So, I discovered that my problem is actually that I grew up and got a job that no longer allows me to spend all of my summers outside, and not, in fact, my suspicion that I used up all of my melanin when I was a tanning teenager.
* I run kind of like Phoebe on Friends. I've always known that I run somewhat awkwardly, because I have long arms and legs that tend to fly about when I am attempting to propel myself forward at increased speeds. But, pictures from the 1/2 Marathon gave me photographic proof that it is worse than I imagined. Just ask my running partner.
* I can eat an entire pizza by myself. Multiple hours of yardwork does wonders for the appetite. After a day of manual labor, I can down 8-10 pieces of pizza as fast as you can say "Would you like to try a slice of the 'East of Eden'?"
* I definitely don't need/want more than 2 pets. Pet-sitting for friends is great, and I honestly don't mind doing it, but I'm always glad when our crazy home life drops back down to the dull roar of a 2-dog household. So, if I ever even mention the possibility of adopting another pet, please lock me in a closet until the urge passes. Unless it's a fish. No, wait--I can just imagine Tucker attempting to go fishin' in the tank while we're not home. Nevermind.

what does 50/50 look like?

As someone who is about to get married, and who has recently been struggling with my mate regarding the division of labor within the household, I found this New York Times article on gender roles and equal responsibilities within a marital partnership to be incredibly interesting.

We've come a long way from the 1930's wives, as a fun test on a friend's blog reveals, but how much do their ghosts still haunt us?

eat your veggies...carefully

I am a pesco-vegetarian, which basically means that I am a vegetarian with a seafood problem. It also means that Sir Paul McCartney thinks I'm living wrong. But, as a mostly-vegetarian, I tend to think that I am safe from most diseases associated with the consumption of meat. However, the last couple of years have proven otherwise.

First, my beloved spinach was victim, as tons of fresh spinach were recalled in September of 2006 due to an e-coli outbreak. I eat spinach every day, and when I say that, I'm not exaggerating. Going to my local grocery store and finding the shelves cleared of spinach was rather depressing. But, with the spinach issue, disaster could be averted by washing the spinach thoroughly enough, or by cooking it.

Now, tomatoes are being recalled all across the United States because of a salmonella scare. And with salmonella, washing doesn't necessarily get rid of the bacteria. You could cook it away, but then you just end up with tomato mush. And this is the time of year when I should be able to buy a tomato, slice it up, add a little fresh basil and mozzarella, and be good to go.

Yep, next year I think I will definitely be joining a CSA, or planting a very large garden in my backyard.

In other food news, Spam and Ramen seem to be making a comeback, due to the rising cost of groceries. Ugh. I think I'd rather take my chances with the tomatoes...