MIA

First, let me just say that I realize that I have been MIA for basically he month of July.  I am so incredibly sorry for this, but I have had some computer problems and so now I am back online! Miss me?

A lot has happened, however, so the next few posts will likely be catching up, then, of course, be looking for the latest honorable mentions.

Update #1--Fireworks

Let's start with the 4th of July, since my last post was on July 3rd.  Almost all of my Mom's family was at the lake (my grandparents live there) for the 4th.  We had a practically perfect day filled with sun, food, laughter and fun.  Of course we had bought fireworks to shoot at the end of the day as well.  It was probably around 9:30-ish when we started doing fireworks.  One of my little cousins is not a big fan of loud noises, and like me as a child, is afraid of fireworks.  So my mom, dad, and I went up to the house and did a few alternative things.  The four of us were sitting at the kitchen table, my Dad was teaching him a card trick, when all of a sudden, all the power went out.  And at the lake when the power goes out...it REALLY goes out.  It was pitch black dark.  In the same split second that the power went out, my Aunt appeared at the back door, and in an alarmed voice said, "Kay, something's wrong with Daddy..." (meaning my granddad, Pop) Could the electricity have picked a better time to go out?  I don't think so... Needless to say, after that things got a little crazy.  For the most pa

rt, my family, immediate and extended, is very good in a crisis situation.  We all are of the philosophy that freaking out does not help a situation...it hurts it.  I basically played the role of runner, trying to fly through the house gathering flashlights and what not.  My Dad grabs a huge flashlight out of his truck for scavenging and my Mom jumps in the truck and drives it down to the lake to shine the headlights on Pop.  As told to me later, after things calmed a bit...Pop went to try and get out of the swing and couldn't move.  He couldn't move anything on his right side.  Luckily, my grandparents live next door to a nurse, who checked him out and said that he definitely needed to get to the hospital.  So, everyone except for me, my cousin, my aunt, and the 3 little kids, took off to the hospital.  The 6 of us stayed behind in the house with no electricity.  My cousin corralled the kids into one of the cars, while my aunt and I went through the house finding every candle and flashlight we could.  Finally, we got the kids inside, kept everyone in the living room with pillows and blan

kets on the floor, and waited.  It's hard to wait like that.  We received regular updates on Pop, however, so that helped a good bit.  The doctors said that he was okay, but that he definitely had suffered a stroke and he was going to have to stay in the hospital for a while. At around 2:30 a.m., the power came back on, and my Mom called to say they were coming back to the house, but that Meme was going to stay with him.  When my parents got back home around 3:15, we drove back home, made it back around 4:00 a.m., so that I could make it to a wedding the next morning (my friend Ali got married, Yeaa!!!!) So needless to say my family has been tracking the progress of Pop for about 3 weeks now.  He is doing much better, and after a stint in the hospital, was able to come home last week.  It will be a long process to get back to where he was, but he is making great progress and s extremely determined to do it.  Thanks for everyone's prayers and concerns! My family and I appreciate them so much, and I am 

proud to say that he is doing so much better!  So, my 4th was eventful to say the least, and at the end of the weekend, I got to sit in traffic like this...

Jeepers CREEPERS

Pick-up lines...I'm so glad this is not a lost art. I have such fun examples of these. If you have any to add, please do!

Example #1 (The Awkward Reference)

"You remind me of my daughter." Not the best opening line. How am I supposed to respond to that?

"Awesome. You remind me of the creepiest guy ever."

(In true Jeff Foxworthy form...) IF you can honestly say that the 20-something girl that you are hitting on reminds you of your daughter.... YOU MIGHT BE A CREEPER!

Group of men at LuLu's---take note that you are no longer in college and there is no excuse for leaving your wedding band in your golf bag...not cool.

Example #2 (Pulling the God Card)

I had the privilege to spend this weekend at a bachelorette party. I love bachelorette parties. I am telling you what, stick a veil on one of your friends, and see what happens. People go crazy. They treat the bride like a celebrity (which she should be) and they treat her lucky little followers like prey, assuming that each girl who is clearly a bridesmaid or friend of the bride is so depressed and bitter that she is not the one getting married, that her inhibitions and standards have been considerably lowered.

I am so glad that people think that this is the case, because how else would I be able to blog about all the fantastic interventions I was privy to this past weekend. The first night we went to dinner and then went to a place called Live Bait (if you have been to Gulf Shores, you might have been here). Upon entering, a guy approached us, rather he pounced on the group almost in an "I saw them first" kind of way. Immediately, he bought us a round of drinks. Okay, this is not all that out of the ordinary for a bachelorette party. We tell him we went to Auburn University. "Oh!! I go to LSU!"~like that was suppose to be impressive. He said it in a way that sounded like he expected us to know all the same people, I guess because we go to SEC schools? So we played the name game (one-sided). He asked if I knew some girl he knew in high school who had decided to come to Auburn (only 24,000 people go to Auburn and NO, I do not know your needle that could be found in the proverbial haystack of Auburn University).

But, just for fun, I said "Oh yeah! I know her!" Haha awesome. He described her as "one of those good Christian girls," which actually we happen to have quite a few of at Auburn.

"We tend to hang out with those kind of girls," which was not only true, but was the only thing I could think to say. Apparently he found that to be his way into our group, because not only did he talk repeatedly to me about his personal spirituality (while he was very drunk) but also to everyone in our group. First he told us that he had just graduated from college and now he was exploring whether or not he wanted to go into the ministry. He told me and the rest of our group that he was "pure" (too much info., pretty sure I didn't ask) and that dancing was his outlet.

What on Earth is THAT supposed to mean? What the heck? Needless to say the avoiding process started with dancer dude. As if this couldn't get any better, he made an appearance the second night, and told us he couldn't remember what he said the night before (bad start bud, on round 2 no less), but that he was actually a senior at LSU and that he became a youth minister at 19, and took a group of 20-30 high schoolers on a mission trip...righhhhht, those parents were trusting with a 19-year-old supposed youth minister.

You were funny dancer dude. You made several of us very uncomfortable with your dancing near us because we wouldn't let you dance with us. Notice the difference.

Example #3 (The Surprise Attack)

On this same trip, I was standing at the Florabama, a place which needs no other explaining except that it is a melting pot of mullet haircuts, crop tops, tight pants, rebel flags, and the occasional college-y group that has come for the experience alone. We were one such group. I was standing talking to one of the other members of the bachelorette party, when out of no where I hear, "I'm Brian." Whoa...little close. Not to mention he didn't approach from the front but instead snuck up beside me where I was not prepared for this interaction...definition: creeper. I was so caught off guard I could not think of what to say. This awkward little interaction lasted for about 3 minutes and included him asking me questions in rapid succession before I could possibly answer him, "Where are you from? Where do you go to school? Do you like the football team? What are you majoring in? What are you going to do with it? Why are you here?" I wanted to say "No. Why are you here?" When I was rescued by a friend who saw me struggling. Thank you again!

Example #4 (Please Pity Me Approach)

This may be my favorite of the Florabama experience. Sometimes you can receive a pick-up line out of the clear blue just by walking by. A couple of my friends were walking by this one guy and for no particular reason he blurted out "My boat sank today."

I was so happy I walked up on this conversation. This poor fellow and his friend seemed so sad, but I very highly doubt that his story was true. The more he talked the worse it got. Apparently this is the story...

He and his friend sank a deep sea fishing boat in the bay that afternoon. For some unknown reason, the boat began to take on water. He looked back from the tower and the motors were thoroughly under water. As the boat was going down, the hero in the boat, in true 007 fashion would hold his breath and dive underneath the water's surface and go through the water filled cabin and collect their belongings. According to him, he was breathing only gasoline-filled air while doing this. Riddle me this wonder boy... How do you breathe under water?

As tempting as it was to ask him this, I let him continue which was much more entertaining. He told us that they did manage to save the cooler of beer which was floating in the water after the boat sank. Thank goodness, I was almost worried. I asked if they got the boat out of the water already or if they just left it there. He says that as soon as he saw the motors underwater, he gunned it (doesn't seem like motors underwater would "gun" very easily, does it?) and rammed the boat up on land next to a dock. When the boat continued to sink, he simply stepped off of the tower onto the dock.

"So when was all of this swimming, and underwater breathing going on?" I ask. "I'm divorced," was his response.

"Okay....." Not the best approach but he does however get 10 points for creativity.


If you have fun pick-up lines or stories about them, please post them in comments!

Counseling for One

I don't know why I have forgotten to post this so far, but it is definitely a blog-worthy story. It was my first week of work, in fact my first day of work this summer, and my mom was staying with me. We actually were staying in a hotel together, because I couldn't move into my apartment until that weekend.

We decided to go to The Cheesecake Factory to celebrate my first day of work. It was raining a little bit, so I dropped my mom at the door. I parked the car, and as I got out and I was trying to juggle my bag and the umbrella. I really didn't want to get my cute new business casual clothes wet.

Mom and I sat down and talked about every detail of my day (which was pretty cool, but that's another post). We had a fabulous dinner and it lasted for about 2 hours. When we were finished we started to walk outside and were excited to find that it had stopped raining. I started to fish for my keys through my bag, and was having a little bit of trouble. We are coming closer to my car.

"Are your lights on?" my Mom asks. She was not prepared for what had really happened.

"Um, no, it's looking like I left the car running," I replied.

Sure enough, when we got to the car, I key-less-ly opened the door and was set to drive away.

HOW DID I DO THIS!? Are you kidding me? Had I lost my mind? Someone could have stolen my car with zero effort! I had practically asked someone to at this point. The same thought crossed my Mom's mind because she then proceeded to ask me with her stunned expression, "I mean, should you go to counseling or something?"

She said it in all seriousness, and honestly, I don't blame her. I wondered the same thing. I was even more shocked than she was. It didn't make it better that I had lost both of my rings and my bracelet (sorry, Bo) twice the week before. Lucky for me, I got those back. My dignity, however, is still trying to find its way back home.

Most Embarrassing Moment #1

I was telling Ansley this story over Spring Break. I had forgotten about it until then. Maybe I blocked it out of my memory, I'm not sure. Somehow, this particular story always slipped my mind when asked "What is your most embarrassing moment?" I might just have too many options to choose from and this one was hidden in the back of the filing cabinet.

At the very end of my sophomore year of high school, I was chosen to represent my school (super nerd overachiever, I know I know) at something called HOBY, Hugh O'Brien Youth Leadership. Some of you reading might know about this.

Well, the first night we were there, we had a limbo contest. Those of you who know me might infer that I am very good at limbo given how much closer I am to the ground than anyone else. So I was excited, blissfully excited because there were cute boys (albeit nerdy) and surely they would be very impressed and notice the limbo champion. I hopped up and on about the fourth round, things started to get serious. The bar about 2 feet off the ground and there were probably four of us left. It was my turn to go. Easy does it, scooting forward, bending, holding my breath and......under I go! Hooray! Victory over another round!

One of the counselors (poor unsuspecting soul) held up her hand to give me a high five. (I should tell you that for some reason we were limbo-ing in the dark with a disco ball). I was bouncing around and so excited, and I went to give her an enthusiastic high five back. I did it in an upward motion with cheerleader sharpness and somehow...ONE OF MY FINGERS WENT UP HER NOSE! Poor girl, she had to be bleeding, and/or have a broken nose. Needless to say she ran off. Not knowing what to do next or if anyone really saw the exchange, I tried to put it out of mind and continue to limbo. I'm not sure if I won that cheap little trophy or not, but it was definitely worth to keep this story around. In my defense, I was probably a little dizzy from holding my breath and limbo-ing in a dark, discoball filled room. Either way, I'm not sure I ever saw her the rest of the time.

Too Much Information

Yesterday, I was running errands, and decided to go to Target. Target is a lovely store, and I am ecstatic that I have a SUPER Target about 2 miles from my apartment. Usually when I go into Target, I get way to excited and buy lots of things that I don't need.

But yesterday I had a plan.

First, I went in with a list. I thought this was a genius idea. Limit myself to only things on the list. Got it.

Second, I decided to carry a basket, rather than a buggy. I thought that the basket looked a bit more chic. Answer: The basket does not look chic when you are cramming things into it that you forgot to write down on the list, and your arm is about to fall off.

Moving on. I decided that my arm would break if I put anything else in the basket, so I decided to check out (so maybe my theory worked somewhat.) I hobbled over to the check out counter and got in line behind an older couple. I noticed that it seemed they were having a very personal conversation with the cashier. I wondered how they knew each other so well. I soon found out.

"I can't eat anything because they cut out all my molars. Doctor said they couldn't keep'a one of 'em." The cashier said as the sweet older couple kind of nodded and picked up their groceries, and scooted on out.

Noticing that her momentary captive audience had suddenly shifted to me, she began ringing up my groceries.
"::long drawn out sigh::Well I had surgery yesterday." said the Target team member.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stammered. I guess she didn't know the couple in front of me until they dared to stand in her line.

"Can't eat anything. Doctor had to cut out two of 'em. Said he might have to cut the rest. Don't know how I'm going to eat."

Well I guess you're out of luck...I wanted to say.

"I had some chicken fingers and french fries today. Gnawed on 'em with my front teeth. I'll figure it out somehow, but oooweeee does it hurt."

"Oh, that's good. I like chicken fingers," I tried to say as normal as possible. The whole time I was thinking, you are totally going on my blog.

"Yep, them chicken fingers are good." She said.

"Ok, well bye," I said as I tried to get my things and leave.

I saw my new friend greet the next customer with the same deep sigh and downtrodden look. But I know she was excited because that customer had a lot more in her buggy than I did.