The Blah Blog and Phrases from the South

Internets, I apologize for my recent lack of blogging. I've been in a bit of a funk lately and while I have been enjoying reading all of you, I have not wanted to spread my funkiness. That being said, this post is going to be all over the place. I have all these thoughts running around and I just know you want me to share. I will oblige you. Please be warned that all my years of English, Literature, and Grammar training are going out the window on this one.

This weekend I got a tick bite. Two tick bites actually and I pulled both ticks off with a pair of tweezers. After the fact, I found out that you're not supposed to do that. Well, pardon me, but I just get the heebie jeebies when something is crawling on my body and sinking it's teeth into my flesh. The HEEBIE JEEBIES! Monday morning I wake up and there are five (5!) bites on my leg and lo and behold the smallest one (the one I pulled off with the tweezers) looks infected. Now my parental units are freaking out at the prospect that I might have Lyme Disease. So I have made the proper doctor's appointment and I ask you to please pray to the god of outdoorsiness that I don't die of Lyme Disease that came from a tick that was no bigger than the head of a pin. HEEBIE JEEBIES!

I would like each of you to telepathically send me some energy. Please. Zap it from your kids (oh, you know you wish you could) and send to me like yesterday. I am D R A G G I N G. I have NO motivation. I have NO energy. I DO want to sleep alot. And eat. Yes, eat ALOT. But not much else. I just feel so BLAH. I do, however, have a pretty little bottle of Prozac. But, I just keep debating if I should partake. I mean, it might be just this stupid tick bite. On the other hand... I do so hate still living with the mother-in-law and knowing that we only have a week till we move out only makes it worse. I tell you internets, it can not come SOON ENOUGH. I could get into a story about some gravy and some Concord grape jelly, but really I've already hashed this out with my dad and it does sound pretty pathetic. Even for me. Let's just say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and leave it at that. I want to move, like yesterday.

I'm skipping Weight Watchers until after all this moving business is done. Go ahead stone me now. Okay. My heart's not in it right now and like my Aunt-in-law (who I LURVE) says, "You have to get your mind right." So true, so true. My mind is on moving and not strangling certain folks before I do so. The WW thing is also sort of depressing because I've only lost .6 of a pound and even though AndreAnna has told me "It's still a loss!", I'm not feeling very loser-like. I'm feeling very fat-like and very hungry. So a couple of days of self-destructive behavior later (and some really good mexican food) I blew a few days of dieting all to hell. Or, my favorite southern saying, "It all went to hell in a handbasket." Or, "I ate that quesadilla like it was my job." I do love being from the South.

So, enough wallowing. Be sure to shower me with compliments er, I mean comments, because I need some lurve like yesterday. (And yes I am aware of how many times I've said "like yesterday." I warned you that all my schoolin' was goin' out the window. But mainly, it's for shits and giggles.) I'll leave you with more Phrases from the South. Enjoy!

• Purty as a speckled puppy in a little red wagon. This is VERY pretty y'all.
• Hotter than a whore in church. Our weather in the South is a bit humid, so this is HAWTE.
• Cold as a witch's tit. or Cold as balls. Either way, it's cold.
• Damn it all to hell. It's been a bad day.
• What in the Sam Hell... What the bejeezus is going on??
• Where you at? We don't simply phone and ask, "Honey, where are you?" This takes less time.
• I'll be all over her like stink on shit. I think this one is self-explanatory.
• It's on like Donkey Kong. Somethin' is about to go down.
• You already know that Lunch is Dinner and Dinner is Supper.
• Contrary to belief, every beverage is not a Coke or a Co' Cola. We southerners do NOT say "Pop". We say, "Can you hand me a drank? or Can you hand me a coldbeer? Not a beer, or a cold one. A Coldbeer. One word, and string out the cold. Cooolldbeer.
• "I can smell it. A drunk front's blowin' in." We is getting drunk tonight, y'all, off some coldbeer.
• Down here, we don't talk about nobody's mama or kin. You can get a whoopin' like that.
• We give directions by community landmarks, not road names.
• We have to give our family history when we meet someone. "You kinned to the So&So's from Backwards Creek?"
• We lurve grits. Don't ask what they are, just eat'em.
• We only eat red hot dogs. Also referred to as "Carolina Packers" "Brightleafs" or "Red'n's"
• Like Kenny (Chesney) said, "We learned in Sunday school who made the sun shine through. I knew who made the moonshine too..." And his name was Percy Flowers.
• We girls like to dress up, but we also like playin' in the mud. The muddier, the better.
• Famous last words, "Hey y'all! Watch 'is!"

My Obession with The Notebook

My "obsession" with Nicholas Sparks' "The Notebook" began about 6 years ago. Hubbs and I were "dating," and I was reading the book the summer we met. I can't even begin to describe the range of emotions I went through upon finishing that glorious novel. I remember sitting in Hubbs' living room crying for everything I was worth. And I didn't even care that he was watching me in awe. I was bold for making myself so vulnerable. I just sat and cried. He, never uttering a word, waited patiently for me to regain my composure and just held me in his arms. We were 20 years old. Flash forward about two years. I will spare you the details that encompasses those years, as they are filled with heartache and joy and I have just finished reading NS's "The Choice." I have already cried quietly to myself, like I do after reading every novel of his, and recounting those memories will only drudge up even more tears. So many that I might short out the keyboard. So, another day I will regale you with the story of us. Ahem. Like I was saying, flash forward two years and the movie, "The Notebook," came out. I was engaged to someone new, who was quite a bit older. I professed many times that I HAD to see this movie. Sitting at a bar in my college town, I told X the story of The Notebook. As he sat there on a bar stool sipping his beer, he didn't get it. He just didn't get it. In the time it took me to explain it to him, he'd already dismissed it. Written it off as just another chick flick. I can still picture us sitting there in that bar surrounded by college kids, noisy and loud, me explaining and he with that look on his face. You know. The one that says, you silly girl. Flash forward about 3 months later. This movie would not leave me alone. It was almost as if I was drawn to it. By then, it was on DVD and I had dumped X. Hubbs resumed his rightful place beside me, as we professed our love for each other. We went right out to Blockbuster and rented it. Came home snuggled on the couch, settling in to watch it. As soon as it was over, I bawled like a baby (still do), and just like that night in his living room he wrapped his arms around me and waited patiently for me regain my thoughts. He was my Noah. I was his Allie. It was then that I revealed to him that that summer in his living room when he held me at my most vulnerable moment, I was reading that same book. And you know what? He got it. He understood. I knew then that he was it. And really, it wasn't that he got some movie. He got me. He got that I knew things happen for a reason. I made him a believer that night. That novel, that movie brought us together and took us apart. And in the end, brought us back together again. For my birthday that year, my parents bought me my own copy of the movie, quite possibly the best present ever. Since then, I can't even tell you how many times I have watched this move. Our movie. Every time I watch it I cry. For the longest time I wouldn't watch it with anyone other than Hubbs and only Hubbs. I didn't want to ruin it. Every so often (2 or 3 months), we make time to sit down and watch our movie. No one else. Just us. It gets better every time we watch it.

When is enough, enough?

For all you internets with youngin's out there, I ask you: When do you stop doing for your chil'rens? When do they get to live their life the way they want? When do the mom's stop trying to take over and run the show? I'm almost 25 and I want to know when my mom is going to hand over the reins and start letting me call my own shots without questioning my judgement and fighting me on every minute detail of my life. I mean, really? I'm sick of it. I'm not 12. I don't have trust issues with my parents. Yes, I have made some bad decisions, but haven't we all? Isn't the purpose of mistakes, to learn from them? And really? I have. It's been a slow and painful process, but oh, how I've learned. So when do I get to be "the good girl" again? When can I be left to my own devices? I'm independent. If I need help, I'll ask. But when will you quit chomping at the bit to help, and then throw numerous guilt trips on me until I cave? Because it's really gettin' old. This is why I don't come over so much. This is why I don't call. I don't need lectures, I don't need your help, I don't need to be babied. I need space to live my own life without feeling smothered by you. Can you do that? Can I tell you that without hurting your feelings?? Can you be my friend now, and not my mother? I think my "need to be mothered" days are over. I still need you, yes. I don't need you 24/7, and I know that's hard for you to understand seeing as how I'm your only kid. But really, it's so much more wonderful for the both of us when you stand behind me and back my decisions whether you think they're right or not. Can you just believe in me? Can you just be proud of me for once? Can you just let me be?

As you were..

Because the last few posts have been a tad bit bitchy whiny, I thought it best to move on to more happier, funnier and wittier things. So I'm stealing this Meme from the BadgerGirl...

1. What is your occupation? Officially? Accounts Payable/Receivable. Unofficially? Caretaker, accountant, cleaning crew, dog trainer, husband feeder.
2. What color are your socks right now? Pink and white striped
3. What are you listening to right now? Blondie
4. What is the last thing you ate? handfuls of AppleJacks cereal
5. Can you drive stick shift? Does taking 30 minutes to get into/out of first gear count?
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? pink
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Hubbs
8. What’s your favorite yoga pose? the plank
9. How old are you today? 24
10. Favorite drink? Coke, Tom Collins, Midori Sours, Miller Lite, Chocolate milk on ice, Mocha lattes, apple juice, lemonade, AppleCherryBerry juice.. i love beverages.
11. What is your favorite sport to watch? Red Sox baseball or Carolina basketball
12. Have you ever dyed your hair? I dyed highlighted my hair "Rockstar Red" one time. Yeah..It came out "Rockstar Pink". I loved my pink hair!
13. Pets? One.
14. Favorite cake? German chocolate cake or Pineapple cake.
15. Last movie you saw? The Break-up.
16. Favorite day of the year? Thanksgiving... and my birthday.
17. How do you vent anger? Write, throw things, talk about it, yell, slam doors, yell loudly, break things, cry.. you know, the normal stuff.
18. What was your favorite toy as a child? bear
19. Autumn or spring? I like 'em both
20. Hugs or kisses? both
21. Cherry or blueberry? cherry
22. Living arrangements? I live with my husband and our dog in my mother-in-law's house along with her other worthless son who comes by once in a while to shower or raid the pantry. But at the end of this month, we're MOVING!
23. Last time you cried? Last week.
24. What is on the floor of your closet? What isn't on the floor of my closet?
25. Who is the friend you’ve had the longest? Jenny and Steph.
26. Favorite smell? My husband fresh out of the shower, freshly dryed clothes, ivory soap.
27. Who or what inspires you? my friends and family inspire me daily.
28. What are you afraid of? Nothing... I try to be fearless.
29. Hamburgers? From where?
30. Favorite car? I like my Betsy. (sunfire, blue)
31. Number of keys on your key ring? 9
32. How many years at your current job? 2 years
33. Favorite day of the week? Payday, of course!
34. How many countries have you lived in? Only the US, but I want to travel once we kick our hypothetical children out of the house, and I get my Mini Cooper.
35. Dream job? Being paid to read.


*As a little side note: To all of you who are observant, I changed the name of my blog from "Miss Informed" to "Make it Snappy!" so it would be a little more fitting of my personality. I'm impatient as hell. While "Miss Informed" was quite quirky, "Make it Snappy!" just fits better. So don't worry; it's still me in here!

Rants from the mail bag

Dear Asshat,

Here's a little piece of advice: When you back into someone's car don't be a Supreme Asshole and just leave. You know, like YOU did. I know that you are a CableTV customer and you probably missed their driveway, and so, you, like every other moron who can't read, pulled into Employment Palace's parking lot to turn around. Clearly, for all you illiterate folks, we have signs stating that "Parking is for Employment Palace Customers Only!." However, today while turning around, you backed into MY car and didn't even have the common courtesy to pop in and say, "Hey, I backed into this blue car, and just wanted to let someone know." Now I have a big ass dent in my bumper and paint damage. I know you either felt the hit or heard the crunch, so why you didn't stop is beyond me. Thank you, for like ruining my afternoon. I really appreciate it. It's people like you that makes me wish insurance laws and policies were suspended for just one day so I could drive around in an old jalopy and bust some people open. Please be sure to understand that should you decide to show your face (which I highly doubt) back at this establishment again, I will have you charged with fleeing the scene of an accident. Thanks for being such a total douchebag.

Best,
Snappy

Moving!

The thing I hate most about moving is.. Moving! Most of our stuff is already packed up in storage, but we still have to pack up our bedroom crap at the mother-in-law's house. This task will, of course, be left up to me. And that's fine. At least I don't have to pack up.. THE WHOLE HOUSE, like I did the last time. So, you see, it's not quite so bad. Me, being the procrastinator that I am, is trying to get a head-start on this thing before the night before we move. Because? That would be so typical of myself, and I'm trying to make some changes, yo. So, yes indeedy, we are flyin' the coop. Moving into a 3 bedroom, 1 1/2 bath home with a two car garage, a wood burning fire place, a DISHWASHER (WOO HOO), deck and nice backyard. This means that we have ample space all to OURSELVES where no one will steal our food or liquor, use our bath products or toilet paper, and I'll go back to only cleaning up after me, Hubbs, and Pookie. Ahhh.. yes. Life is good. For you nice readers, here is a list of things I look forward to in the coming weeks. Enjoy!

• Being able to buy food without having to come home and "assess the damage" of what has been eaten/stolen from the pantry by worthless brother-in-law and his druggie friends.
• Being able to dry clothes in the dryer without worrying if WBIL has stolen our brand-new towels or half-assed let them dry, only to throw them on MIL's bed still wet. That means they have to be washed. Again.
• Not worrying that WBIL is using our shampoo/bodywash/toothpaste/razor(I know!). And not having to take EVERYTHING out of the bathroom EVERY morning after pre-work showers.
• Not having to hoarde food in our room like chipmunks, for fear that WBIL will eat every morsel.
• Not having to pick up after 4 adult humans and one to three canines (depending on the day).
• Not being MIL's hand-maiden.
• Being able to walk around in my underwear, if I so choose.
• Being close to Ma Dukes.
• Getting my husband out of the nasty environment that is labeled "Family". Mainly, his.
• Having our own place!
• Doing exactly what we want!!

I'm So Excited. And I Just Can't Hide It!

After living with my mother-in-law for the past 10 months, Hubbs and I have found a place to stay. AND.. we get to keep Scout! We found a house to rent that is right around the corner from my parents. It's a 3 BR, 1 1/2 BA with a 2 car garage and a decent-sized yard. I can't explain the relief that I feel right now! We'll be moving around the first of May and it can't get here fast enough! This was just a quick post. The deets for my peeps will come Monday when I have enough time to elaborate on my excitedness. And, because I know you think I've forgotten you.. Lindz, Maggie and Flutterbyshutter.. I am like the queen of procrastinators. I haven't forgotten your goodies!! The packages are all put together and ready to send out, like yesterday. Now I just have to get my lazy ass to the Post Office. They'll arrive soon, I promise! Have a fantabulous weekend everyone!

... And then, it was all kind of sad.

I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting last night. There were lots of people there; mostly women. Mostly women in scrubs. And then, older women. There were 2 menfolk. I felt a bit sad as I walked through the door. I thought to myself, "I am PAYING to lose weight. Someone should be PAYING me for every pound I shed. Why do I have the urge to cry!?!?" Well, the answer to that, I found when I got home. PMS, you ruthless bitch, go away. You make me all weepy and crybaby-ish, and then I'm all irate and pissy, and then I'm all rainbows and lollipops. WTF? I really didn't need this on the day I start "Living, not dieting." Now, I will surely fall head first off the wagon into a chocolate patch and gorge myself silly with anything that is within reach. I ate a modest dinner last night and today, though all I can think about is food, I'm HUNGRY. I've had Nabs,water, Sugar Free Jello, water, chili, a small caesar salad, water and grapes. But I can't stop thinking about those Reese's Eggs I've got stashed in the office freezer. Or the handfuls of cereal I want to shovel in. Or the Coke I need to drink before I slap the taste out of some asshat's mouth. I get 23 points a day. That's basically 7 points per meal with 2 freebies. In my Carrie Bradshaw moment of despair, I have to wonder.. Am I gonna make it? Am I going to be able to force myself to do this and lose 2 lbs. a week so that by June I can actually wear a bathing suit on vacation? It's all so sad. I knew some (okay, all) of the things I eat aren't healthy-ish, but I never knew their point count was so high. This makes me sad. I can't eat fried anything, just about. Or slather gravy all over my plate. Good-bye huge soft rolls for dinner. So long greasy hamburgers and hot dogs. It's just not FAIR! I wanted to run home after the meeting and indulge in a "Last Supper", but I was too afraid. I was scared that I would be able to tell it at the next meeting. Please reassure me that I am not going to starve forever. As a soon to be former fat girl, I really hope it's worth giving up the gravy, yo.