Christmas in Dixie. No, really.

Time spent with my family is never dull.  Ever. 

That being said, my Christmas was fairly fabulous.  I expected nothing less, but still.  I’m glad that my expectations for a wonderful holiday with my family were met.

Having worked an early shift at Outback, I was able to arrive at my parents’ house around 10:30.  Generally, they are asleep by 8:00, so imagine my surprise to see all the lights on in the house when I pulled up.  I walked in the back door,  totally confused as to why the Grady house was still hoppin’ so long after the sun had gone down.

It didn’t take me long to notice the massive (and I mean MASSIVE) heaps of raw meat strewn about the kitchen table and counter.  Every level surface in the kitchen was covered in freezer paper, and bits and chunks of dead deer were absolutely everywhere.  Bless my little, German Momma.  She was up to her elbows in venison, cutting, washing, and packing it away.  Many a wife would be proud of her husband for killing such a fine buck. 

Not my Momma. 

I mean, she likes deer meat as much as the next person.  She just isn’t a fan of the packing a cleaning process. 

One time, Daddy killed two deer with one shot.  It was a complete accident, and if two other people hadn’t been with him to verify the story, I would have never believed it.  But it really happened.  Yeah.  Momma was NOT happy for him.  Not even a little bit. 

But aside from the murder of innocent creatures of the forest (that taste SO good), the weekend was uneventful and amazing.  My parents bought me an awesome new TomTom GPS, because they love me, and they know my limitations.  The citizens of Jacksonville should all be sending Momma and Daddy letters of thanks for the disasters that this marvelous piece of equipment will help me avoid.

Speaking of Jacksonville... I absolutely cannot wait to be there.  Holy Smokes.  I’m excited.  I wish with my whole heart that I could work it out to where I could move sooner rather than later.  But, realistically, it will still be April or May before I get to take the biggest step of my adult life.

Who wants to teach me to drive in a big city?

Rush hour in Florence, Alabama stresses me out horribly. Maybe I can hire one of those creepy middle aged men who teaches foreign women how to drive in America to teach me how to drive in Jacksonville?

I have a gut feeling that big city life really will make me feel like a foreigner for the first few months.  For all of you who live in a town bigger than Florence, feel free to throw pointers my way as to how to function in a place that has more than four lanes and offers options other than Walmart for buying groceries.

Goodnight, all.  Goodnight.

And so it goes.

As I mentioned yesterday, I am on a diet.  It is working very well, and I plan on sticking to it.

This diet, however, consists of replacing two meals a day with a smoothie consisting of spinach, fruit, and oatmeal.  When mixed properly, it really is next to impossible to taste the spinach.  Generally, I just feel like I’m drinking a strawberry/banana smoothie with somewhat of an odd texture. 

But, it looks like this.

And that looks like guacamole.  And guacamole looks like goose poop.

If you need to, feel free to go back and reference one of my first blog entries ( here ) and you’ll see why I have issues with foods that are green and creamy. 

This being said, I have had to force myself to somewhat overcome my fear of someone sneakily swapping out my actual food with avian excrement.

It hasn’t been easy.  It’s a process.  I can drink my smoothies without closing my eyes now, and I have even managed to eat a couple of fresh avocados. 

Progress, people.  I’m actually making progress.

So, this morning I wake up late (as usual), take a shower (unfortunately, that part isn’t as usual as it should be), and get ready for work.  Every day, the last thing that I do before I leave the house is make myself a smoothie, pour it in a foam cup, and then rinse out the blender.

It takes me about ten minutes to get to work, and if I time it just right, I’m generally finishing my smoothie right when I pull into the parking lot at the office.  This morning was no different. 

Until I realized that I hadn't turned off the sink before I left.

Sigh.

I’m not sure I have ever driven so fast in my life.  I just knew that as soon as I got back into the house, the whole kitchen would be flooded and that Joey (my roommate) would never speak to me again. 

And I totally would have deserved it.

The gods of renters insurance must have been watching out for me today, because when I frantically rushed in the front door, I wasn’t met with the tidal wave of built up water I had been expecting.  Actually, I was only greeted by the angry looks of Lionel and Jack (Joey’s dog and cat), unhappy I had woken them from their deep slumber on the couch. 

The water, of course, was still blasting at almost full stream. But because Jesus loves me a lot today, the sink was only about a third of the way full, and the water was just circling down the drain, clueless to the potential it had to ruin the kitchen floor. And my life.

Maybe I should look into moving into one of those assisted living homes when I get to Florida.

I still exist.

My blog has been severely neglected over the past week—this I know.

This is not a complaint in any shape, form, or fashion, but I have been busy.  Super, super busy.

But, I’m also happy. 

In July, when he-who-shall-not-be-named left and when my suspicions about certain things were confirmed, I honestly never thought I would be okay again.  Ever.  There was no light at the end of my tunnel, and I thought that my life, as I knew it, was completely over. 

Ha.

When I think of who I was at the beginning of 2011 and compare it to who I am now, it blows my mind.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I would go weeks without laughing. The people who have cared about me and loved me for years, I pushed them as far away as I could.  I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with my life and my marriage (hindsight is 20/20, huh?), so I assumed that the way I felt, that was just real life and I needed to grit my teeth and accept it for what it was.  

Thank God I was horribly mistaken.

I work three jobs.  I hardly have time to breathe, but I’m completely fine financially. Though I may moan and whine a little bit, I look forward to going to work every single day.  That’s real life.

I’m taking care of myself.  After 9 years, I have finally quit smoking.  Within the past two weeks, I have lost over 10 pounds, simply by eating healthy foods and forcing myself to be active.  I still have 20 more pounds to go, but I already look better than I have in years.  I feel so much better about myself, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m starting to regain a little bit of the confidence that was stripped away from me.  That’s real life.

I have best friends again.  Don’t get me wrong… the last year or so of my marriage I still had friends.  But I kept everyone at such a distance, simply because I was so embarrassed about the truth of my situation.  Now, I have again allowed myself to have the type of friends who I can call while sobbing hysterically and having a complete and utter come-apart, and I know that they will still love me and think I’m awesome.  I have the kind of friends who know how inappropriate and crude I can be, and they think it’s totally okay. Actually, they kind of expect it.  Ha.  And most importantly, I have the kind of friends who have absolutely no qualms about calling me out when I put my head up my butt and try to shut everyone out.  That’s real life.

Last May, I was grasping for any straw that I could in order to save my marriage.  I think I knew deep down that I was fighting a losing battle, but for my own peace of mind I had to pour every last ounce of myself into trying to make things work.   This May, I will be living in Florida, 15 minutes from the beach, with my favorite people.  If everything goes as planned, I will be skinny, tan, and ridiculously happy. Ha.  Yes.  Sometimes I can hardly believe it, but that’s real life, too. 

It’s amazing how much can change in a year.  It really, really is. 

And it’s even more amazing that the most painful thing that I have ever experienced has become one of the absolute best things to ever happen to me.

I will try to get back in the habit of blogging more frequently.  Really.  I will.

Until next time folks… good day.

G'day Mate.

Friday evening, I left the office and headed to Walmart.  As I’m sure all of you are completely aware, Walmart this time of year is COMPLETELY insane.  I hurried in, bought the few things that I needed, and hurried right back out. 

On a whim, I bought some beef jerky.  Those dang displays right at the check-out line get me EVERY time. 

While walking to the car, I got SUPER excited about my purchase.  It was the Jack Daniels Steakhouse flavor.  And oh me… I couldn’t wait to tear into that beefy goodness. 

My head was down, and I was rummaging through my bags trying to find the beef jerky as I approached my car. I, evidently, was REALLY pumped about it.  Without paying much attention to anything outside of the contents of my grocery bag, I dug my keys out of my purse, put my key in the lock of the driver side door, and tried to unlock my car. 

And then I heard the scream.

What are the chances of another 2003 dark blue Ford Focus parking SO close to MY 2003 dark blue Ford Focus?  And, what are the chances that I would be so intent on digging in my bags looking for beef jerky that I don’t realize I’m trying to access the wrong vehicle?

And, what are the chances that there would actually be someone sitting inside, in the passenger seat, of the car that I was so intently trying to enter? 

As soon as I realized what was happening, I started apologizing very loudly (I wanted the poor lady in the passenger seat to be able to hear me) and very profusely.  Honestly, it takes a lot for me to get embarrassed.  A whole lot.  But my face was so red that I could feel my ears burning, and I was so flustered that I couldn’t get the keys out of the door. 

After the most awkward 30 seconds of my life, I finally freed the captive keys and started making the trek to MY car.  I turned around to wave apologetically to the poor lady who was sitting in the passenger seat, but she was already on her phone and waving her arms frantically as she told the story of the crazy girl in cowboy boots and a camo hoodie that tried to climb in the car with her and steal all of her money and Christmas cheer.

Really.  Who wants to follow me around with a video camera and just document my life for a month?  I promise you, you’d be able to sell it to some network and make lots and lots of money.

Speaking of money, I recently made the decision to pick up a third job.  I work an 8-5 job, I own a small business, and now, I work at Outback again. 

Yes, yes I do.  Actually, today is my first day back.

I swear, Outback Steakhouse owns a part of my soul.  It’s just a fact of life.

I have worked there on and off since I was about 20 years old and as much as I whine about it and talk about how ridiculous it is that I have a college degree and still wait tables, there is no denying the fact that I love Outback and I love the people with whom I work.  

Plus, every single cent that I make while working there will go to my “I’m moving to Florida” fund. So come in and give me money.  Ha.

My life is good. 

It really, really is.

Baby it's cold outside.

Yet again, I have on no socks.

I’m freezing.

It’s totally my own fault.

I’m not wearing a jacket, either.

And this has nothing to do with me being cold, but I just discovered that my belt is twisted.  Horribly. I also managed to miss two belt loops.  Sigh.

Um, where were those text messages reminding me to dress like an adult that I requested to be sent to my phone this morning?  I, evidently, needed them desperately.

Again.  Sigh.

Today, lots of people have been smiling at me.  I, of course, return the smile, but on the inside I’m totally freaking out.

See, a few weeks after I started working at my current job (administrative assistant/glorified secretary for a law firm that specializes in bankruptcy and divorce law), I had to prepare my first set of legal documents for a client to sign.  I was so, so nervous about making sure that everything went smoothly that  I got to work early and went through the stack of papers about a million times, ensuring that everything was in perfect order.  I even used the little post-it notes that say, “sign here” so that I would be less likely to screw up the process.

The meeting with the client couldn’t have gone any better.

All day, I was metaphorically patting myself on the back. 

I was even convinced that my good mood was contagious, because people I didn’t even know would look at me and break out into huge, cheesy grins.

Later on in the afternoon, I was walking to the local coffee shop to treat myself for my job well done.  I went to get something out of my purse, and I felt something poke me on the inside of my right arm. 

Oh yes.

On the right side of the lower part of my right boob (I feel kind of dirty using the word “boob” in my blog, but what’s a girl to do?), there was a bright yellow “sign here” post-it note.  Considering that I had prepared the documents for the client at about 8:00 that morning, and I decided to make my trek to the coffee shop around 4:00 that evening, I had been sporting this as an accessory (and invitation?) for a grand total of 8 hours.

Needless to say, I have checked myself repeatedly today in attempt to figure out why people are so seemingly pleased to see me.  My belt is now fixed.  My shirt is on correctly.  My fly is zipped.  I don’t have anything in my teeth. I have eye makeup on both eyes.  I don’t have pen on my face.  And I definitely don’t have a “sign here” post-it anywhere on my body.  

I’m thoroughly confused.

Maybe I will soon figure this out.

Until then, have a wonderful weekend, boys and girls. 

It's not just me.

Yesterday morning I got a text message from Alyssa telling me that she had a dream that there was a bat flying around in her room, and she woke herself up thrashing and flailing her arms.  She has a horrible habit of punching people in the face when she sleeps, even when no crazy dreams are involved (yes, I have been a victim of this), so I said a quick prayer of thanks for the fact that she had been sleeping alone at the time of the dream, made fun of her for being crazy, and went on about my day.

I woke up this morning to the following text message, sent at 2:14 a.m. (her time):  So the bat wasn’t a dream, and I’m not a crazy person! Bahaha

Evidently, there really was a bat.  And evidently, this bat stays hidden and quiet until Alyssa goes to sleep at night, and then it comes out to fly haphazardly over her bed and around her room.

She is at home visiting her parents right now, so she does what any grown woman would do in this particular situation… she goes and wakes up her Daddy.  After convincing him that she, indeed, was sane, and that there was, indeed, a bat in her room, they formed a plan of attack.  From what I could gather from our conversation, their approach to the situation was successful and her room is now free from flying creatures of the night.

I’m just glad that I’m not the only person in the world to whom this type of stuff happens. 

Maybe I should start a support group.

I’m almost scared to put this out in the universe, but aside from frantic text messages about bats invading bedrooms, these past few days have been blissfully uneventful.  I think God knew that I needed rest after the events that took place during my Virginia trip, so things have been pretty chill. 

I know.

I probably just ruined my life. 

Somebody please send me a text every morning before I go to work and tell me that I need to put on socks.  Maybe I should set a reminder on my phone to go off at 7:30 every single day that says, “Grady.  You’re 27.  Dress like an adult today.”

Actually, maybe I should set a reminder to go off every morning that says, “Grady.  You’re 27.  Try to actually BE an adult today.” (Yeah. Like that is going to happen.)

My friends, I will close with a joke.

Brace yourselves.  Many of you have seen me tell this in person, and you know how phenomenal it really  is. 

Knock Knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting starfish.

Interrupting starfi….

You’re welcome.

Good day.

Back in Bama...

Oh me. 

I need 8 hours of sleep a night to function.  Really, I do.  My body hates me and shuts down if I get less than that.

Let me break this down for you:

Wednesday night:            3 hours of sleep

Thursday night:                 5 hours of sleep

Friday night:                       No sleep

Saturday night:                  7 hours of sleep

Last night:                           3 hours of sleep

I totally understand if you quit reading at this point.  Actually, I kind of recommend it.  I’m not sure that I’m alert enough to make any sense.

Highlights of my trip to Virginia (in no particular order):

·         Seeing my best friends. (Okay. I lied.  That one came first because it was the most important.  The rest of these, however, really are in no particular order.)

·         Being a part of Alyssa discovering that it isn’t a good idea to pour boiling grease into a plastic container.

·         Watching Brooke, the most awkward and least social person in the history of the world, ever, interacting with toll booth workers.

·         Seeing the NYC skyline for the first time, without even meaning to.

·         Hearing “Sweet Home Alabama” and feeling like a celebrity because I was the only person in the building actually from Alabama.

·         Looking down at my feet Friday night and realizing, after being at the emergency room for over three hours, that I was wearing one black Tom and one brown Tom.  (For the record, I was not in the emergency room for myself.  I was there waiting with other people for other reasons.  Being at the hospital was definitely not a high point of the trip, but the hilarity of realizing that at the age of 27 I can’t manage to put on matching shoes… that brought some laughs at a much needed time.) 

·         Traveling all over the east coast (five different airports and five flights in all) without any major mishaps.  I got a long talking to about not saying “bomb” or “anthrax” before I left.  I watched my words carefully, and I was successful.

·         Brooke and I saving a whole row of seats in Longwood’s auditorium by sneaking into the theater early and spreading out every single personal possession we had across the entire front row.  We got some ugly looks, but Alyssa’s family had the best view in the house.  And, I got to see Alyssa dance.  Really dance.  I have seen her “dance” when we are out, but seeing her completely in her element, doing what she so clearly loves… I really don’t have words for it. I just know that she is beautiful, and so incredibly talented.

·         Failing miserably at my attempt to utilize the armrest on my flight home.  With my hand still gingerly rested on his leg, I looked deep into the eyes of the shocked older gentleman sitting next to me and said, “Well, this is pleasant.”   

I have every intention of going to bed at about 7:00 tonight.  Hopefully by the time I get around to writing a blog tomorrow, I will have recovered from my lack of sleep enough to make a little bit more sense. 

Hopefully.  

DC. New York. Grease.

Yes, I’m blogging from Farmville, VA.   I told myself that I was going to wait until I returned to Alabama to share my experiences, but there is already way, way too much to tell.  Get ready, readers.  This really is my life. 

I woke up yesterday morning to a text from the airline telling me that one of my connecting flights had been canceled. Of course.

Taking a deep breath, I convinced myself that everything would be just fine. 

Turns out, US Airways thought that the best way to solve the problem and still get me from Alabama to Virginia was as follows: Huntsville to DC.  DC to New York City.  New York City to Richmond Virginia.

In one day, I saw the Washington Monument and the New York City skyline.

Long story short… none of my layovers were more than 40 minutes.  All of my flights took off late.  I almost got stranded in New York. I was the absolute last person to board the plane, and I ran up right as the airline employee was starting to shut the door.  I would have fit right in with my thick Alabama accent, torn up jeans, beat up cowboy boots, and Auburn shirt… right?

My whole day was like a movie. I just wanted to get to Farmville, Virginia.  That’s all.  Who unintentionally goes to New York City?

This girl.  That’s who.

But now, I’m here.  I’m finally here.  I’m sitting on Alyssa’s couch and all is right in the world. 

Kind of. 

This morning, we decided to get up and cook breakfast.  Sausage, bacon, and eggs.  Pretty simple, right?

I was banished from the kitchen after about 10 minutes, because I was told that I’m too controlling.  That’s totally not the case.  Just because I tell you that you’re doing something wrong, take the spatula out of your hand, and move you out of the way… that doesn’t mean I’m controlling.  It just means I know a better way to do what you’re doing, and you need to move over and let me do things the right way.  Nothing controlling about that. 

Not five minutes after I escaped the hostile environment of the kitchen, I heard a very distraught sounding “Grady!?” resound throughout the apartment.  It was followed by hysterical laughter and the sounds of chaos.

I walked into the kitchen to find Brooke doubled over with laughter and Alyssa staring dejectedly at the hugest pool of grease I have ever seen, spreading quickly over her kitchen floor.  In Alyssa’s hand, there was a plastic Tupperware container with the bottom completely melted out. 

Yup.

I give her props for not trying to pour the grease down the drain.  Really. 

But pouring scalding hot grease into a piece of thin plastic?  I’m not completely sure what she thought the end result would be.  Evidently, Brooke encouraged the idea.  Sigh.

Bless their hearts. 

(I'm choosing to live with these two girls in Florida. Bless my heart.)

My apologies.

·         The day after tomorrow, I am flying to Virginia to see some of my best friends.  I haven’t been this excited about anything in a long, long time.  I’m actually so excited about it that I can’t coherently string my thoughts together.  Therefore, today’s post will not only be in bullet form, but it probably won’t make too much sense, either.  For this, I apologize.

·         This morning on my way to work, I turned left at a red light.  A middle-aged man with a receding hairline and Bluetooth honked at me and flicked me off.  I guess I kind of deserved it.  It really seems as if my driving skills are deteriorating as I get older.  If I’m already struggling this badly now and I’m still a few years shy of thirty, I don’t like to think about how bad it will be when I reach old age.

·         My attempt to stop chewing my fingernails has actually been quite successful.  My nails are longer than they have ever been, and I have developed the incredibly annoying habit of drumming them on whatever hard surface is available. Also, I have made myself bleed more than once because I forget that they are there.  Yeah.  I’m learning.

·         I am freezing.  I decided that it was a wise idea to wear a pair of my Toms with no socks today.  In retrospect, it wasn’t that great of a decision.  It’s rainy and nasty, my feet are cold, and I just got over a double ear infection.  Who wants to come to my house every morning and help me pick out weather appropriate clothing?

·         Oh! I also need someone to come to my house tonight and help me pack for Virginia.  And do laundry for me so that I actually will have clean clothing to pack.

·         I went and got my hair did yesterday.    I once again have pink and purple tips.  Thanks, Becca!

  

·         Yesterday, I finally got a copy of my final divorce decree.  It was a super odd feeling, to say the least.  Surprisingly, I wasn’t sad.  I think I am finished being sad about the whole situation. It is a part of my life that I can’t take back.   And even now, knowing everything I know and being hurt the way I was hurt, I don’t really think I would want to take it back.  I’m stronger.  I’m definitely wiser.  I know that from here on out, I will trust my gut.  I know that if all signs point toward something, no matter how badly I don’t want to believe it, the signs probably aren’t lying.  From the very beginning of this whole mess, I have known that there was no way that I could walk away from this situation unchanged.  But I have also known that I have a choice in how, exactly, I let it change me.  I can let it ruin me, or I can grow from the experience and let it make me even more awesome.  I choose the latter.   Duh.

·         Did I mention that I can’t wait to be in Virginia on Thursday?  Seriously.  I’m not sure that I will be able to sleep until I am there.  These girls are my heart, and I never feel more like me than when I am with them. 

Yo.

I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that Christmas is less than a month away.  I get kind of flustered thinking about it.  I’m that girl who waits until Christmas Eve eve to do most of my shopping.  

Actually, I take that back.

I’m that girl who waits until Christmas Eve eve to do most of my shopping for other people.  But I totally take advantage of holiday sales and buy pretty, pretty things for myself.

This year on Black Friday, I stood in line at Martin’s for a pretty good while to get my hands on a brown North Face jacket I have been lusting after for a few months.  There were only about 30 or so people in front of me in line, so I was pretty confident that my patience would totally pay off.  About ten minutes before it was time for the doors to open, I noticed a group of high school aged boys inching their way closer and closer to the front of the line.  They were standing directly beside the line, blending in pretty well.  Every few minutes they would take a few steps forward, being incredibly quiet.  Most people in line were laughing and cutting up (it was freezing out there, so we had to stay jolly somehow…), so it was easy for these kids to go unnoticed.  

Yeah.

They went unnoticed until I not-so-quietly announced their presence to everyone.

By this time, the line was longer than the length of the whole building.  The doors were opening any second, and despite the unkind words and nasty looks being thrown their way, those boys were not going to budge.  They started whispering amongst themselves, and I knew exactly what their game plan was.  As soon as the doors opened and the line started flowing, they were just going to squeeze in.  People would be too determined to get in the store to sacrifice the precious seconds it would take to prevent the delinquent kids from committing the cardinal sin of Black Friday:  cutting in line.

I knew I couldn’t let this happen.

Everything went slow motion.

The Martin’s employees were walking to the doors with their keys out.  

The entire crowd outside was tense with the anticipation of what was on the other side of that glass.

The stupid boys were grinning and positioning themselves for the ultimate line break.

At the very last moment, I yelled, “Link up and keep them out!”

As the doors were swinging open, about a hundred strangers linked arms, held hands, or simply squeezed in as tight as possible to become one unit.  We all had two common goals:

1)      Get to the North Face jackets as quickly as possible.

2)      Exercise whatever means necessary to keep those pubescent boys from getting in that building before we did.

And you know what?  We succeeded. 

Thanks to my fabulous new jacket, I am incredibly warm and toasty as I am sitting here typing.

But it doesn’t even compare to the warmth I felt in my soul at the looks of anger and frustration on the faces of those boys as they realized that their plan had failed miserably.

(Go ahead and judge.  I’m a horrid person sometimes.)

Real Talk.

I had a long, funny blog ready to post.  And then, on a whim, I decided to revisit this website:

www.prayfornoah.com

I immediately erased everything I had typed.  This is what I ask of you: Click the link, read Noah's story, and use amount of time that it would take you to read one of my normal blogs to pray for Noah Crowe and his parents.

Please.

I don’t have kids. But I do know love. 

I think about how much I love certain people in my life, and I can’t imagine what it would feel like to love someone even more than I love those who are such a huge part of my  heart.

I can’t wrap my mind around the fear and despair this family must be feeling.  Yet, they still cry out to God and proclaim His goodness. 

That, my friends, is not something I’m sure that I would be able to do in their circumstance. I like to think that I would be able to, but I’m not sure I could.

So today,  please just pray.

I'm back.

So… that possible exciting news that I didn’t want to talk about for fear of jinxing it?  Pretty sure that it isn’t going to happen, so we’re just going to forget that I ever mentioned anything about it.  Ha. 

I apologize for my absence last week.  I had a ton going on, and I just really couldn’t find the time to crank out a blog every day.  But I’m back now, so all can once again be right with the world.

I have decided to attempt to stop biting my nails. 

I have chewed my nails since I was a baby, and it’s gross and I don’t want to do it anymore. Every time I go home to see my parents, Daddy thumps me in the jaw and tells me to get my fingers out of my mouth at least five times.  I’m almost 28.  That’s kind of embarrassing.

Plus, quitting is on my Bucket List.

This would be way, way easier had I not recently quit smoking. (Sorry to those of you who are shocked by the fact that I smoked.)  I started when I was 18, and have been an on-again/off-again smoker for the better part of 10 years.  These past few years, I have smoked pretty heavily.  And like chewing my nails, I decided that it was gross and I didn’t want to do it anymore.

It has been a month since my last cigarette, and I really think that this time, I am finished for good.  If I can quit now, with all the mess and stress I have going on, I have no excuse to ever pick up a cigarette again.

I honestly think it will be harder to quit chewing my nails than it was to quit smoking.  

In order to smoke, I have to have cigarettes.  It is easy to not have cigarettes. 

But to bite my nails?  I simply need my hands.  And I’m kind of stuck having them in close proximity to me.  When I catch myself really wanting a cigarette, I usually chew my nails as a distraction.  That makes this way more complicated.

I have tried all the common remedies for nail biting. 

I have dipped my fingers in hot sauce at the beginning of the day. That definitely keeps my fingers out of my mouth.  By 9:30 a.m. I am holding my face underneath a sink attempting to flush the said hot sauce out of my eye. 

I have tried fingernail polish.  All that leads to is really ugly, chipped paint on my nails and unfortunate nail-polish flecks all in my teeth. 

Anyone have any helpful ideas?  I am determined to make this happen.  And I haven’t bitten them at all in two days, but I’m not sure that sheer will power is going to lead to a victory in this particular situation. 

They’re mocking me.

Me + Technology = Fail.

Today the weather is bad

I’m not going to lie

It makes me kind of sad.

Real talk:  I never should have been allowed to purchase a smart phone.  Ever.  I’m SO bad at technology that it is ridiculous, and every time I try to do something different and “smart” with my Thunderbolt, I end up on the verge of a panic attack. 

One time, I tried to change my ringtone and I ended up erasing every single event I had saved in my calendar. 

Another time, I tried to answer while driving and changed the default display language to Spanish.  That one took a good while to sort out.

Thank God for people who understand and enjoy technology. 

Today is my friend Chris’s birthday.  Chris is an IT guy with an MBA, and he is undoubtedly one of the smartest people that I have ever met.  He got to spend a large portion of his birthday on Google Chat with me, walking me through some (seemingly) very basic instructions to make certain things on my phone do what they’re supposed to do. 

Thanks, Chris.  I love you, I’m so thankful for you and Erin, and I am glad that you have the patience to deal with my technological inadequacies. 

And, just so everyone is aware, I managed to cross the street today (more than once!) without any mishaps!  I kind of had to give myself a little bit of a pep talk before I crossed the first time, but when I looked down and saw my trusty cowboy boots on my feet, I knew that I would be just fine. 

I’m telling you… it’s the heels.  I just can’t.

Hopefully, by next week things will have calmed down enough (there are some crazy things happening in my life right now… I’m scared to talk about them for fear of jinxing everything) for me to get back to my regular blogging habits.  

I will return on Monday.

I hope you all have a fabulous rest of the week, and hopefully when I post again it will be to share some exciting news!

(I’m not pregnant. No worries.)

My apologies.

I have been MIA for almost a week. 

Some of you care… some of you weren’t even aware. 

Although I’m tempted to write this post in rhyme, I feel like doing so would be a crime.

Okay.  Enough of that.

True story though… this past week has been crazy hectic.

I started feeling pretty rough on Wednesday, and by the time Thursday came around, I couldn’t even make it through the day at work.  When I woke up Friday morning, I knew that I had to actually go to the doctor.  Usually, I’m that girl who will take a ton of vitamin C and Tylenol Cold & Flu and just cross my fingers that whatever is attacking my body will give up and leave me alone.

Yeah.  Not this time.  I felt like I had a golf ball made of out nails lodged under my left ear.

 It’s never a good thing when the doctor looks in your throat and says, “Oh my gosh!” 

Evidently, I had one of the most severe double ear infections she had ever seen.

Three shots, three prescriptions, and several days later, I’m finally starting to feel like a human again. 

Kind of.

That being said, I apologize for my absence. 

Also, I would like to apologize to the nice old man who had to slam on his brakes at the intersection of Tennessee and Seminary Street today.  I know that the WALK and DON’T WALK signs are there for a reason, but generally I just look both ways, make sure I’m not in imminent danger, and then go on my merry way. 

I blame what happened today on the fact that I never learned how to properly walk in heels.  

I looked both ways before I crossed, and yeah, there was a car headed my way, but I had plenty of time to make it.

Actually, let me rephrase my prior statement: I would have had plenty of time to make it across the street had I not fallen, in the most ungraceful manner possible, into the middle of a busy intersection.

I stepped funny (blasted heels!), stumbled, and in the process of trying to regain my balance, I managed to completely and utterly bust my tail. 

Yeah.  Remember that car that was a seemingly safe distance away when I made the decision to go ahead and cross the street despite the DON’T WALK sign?  Turns out, it was way, way closer than I thought. 

I’m okay, evidently.  Thank goodness that old fella driving was paying attention, or I wouldn’t be sitting here typing this blog right now.

Lessons learned today:  

1) I am just not cut out for wearing heels.

2) Street signs/lights are there for a good reason.

3) I’m 27, and should not be allowed to cross the street without a responsible adult holding my hand.

I'm thankful.

So many of my friends are taking part in the 30 Day Thankful Challenge on Facebook. 

Let’s be real here.  I forget to tie my shoes some days, so thinking that I can remember to list one thing for which I am thankful each day of November?  Yeah.  That won’t happen.   Plus, I’m already 8 days behind.

So, here you go.  In no particular order, here are 30 things in my life for which I am incredibly thankful.

1)      Parents who raised me to be a strong and independent woman, regardless of my circumstance.  Not being okay was never an option, and the inner strength they insisted on instilling in me from the time I was a kid is one of the main reasons that I am still standing right now.

2)      A God who still loves me enough to pour out of all kinds of crazy blessings on me, even though there is nothing good in me except for Him.  His grace is why I am free, and I refuse to ever take that for granted.

3)      My dogs.  They rule my world, and I’m totally okay with that.

4)      Camp Concord.  Never did I imagine that some of the most important and soul-changing friendships of my life would be born out of the one crazy summer I spent there.

5)      My job.  No, I never pictured myself working in the legal field, but it provides a steady check, and it saved both my sanity and my bank account during the divorce. 

6)      Technology.  I truly can’t imagine my life without my cell phone, laptop, and DSLR.

7)      Friends.  I know that every person believes that their friends are the best, but everyone besides me is wrong in that assumption.  I get seriously overwhelmed when I try to wrap my mind around the amount of love and support that my friends have shown me over the past few months. 

8)      Alabama. Yup. I love the fact that I was born and raised in the South.  I love this culture and I love these people.  I love that a complete stranger will hold a door open for me, and I love that guys will stand to give me their seat if there is nowhere else for me to sit.

9)      J. Grady Photography.  It started out as kind of a joke, and it has blossomed into something that provides a pretty reliable second income.  And, I love it.

10)   Jacksonville, Florida.  In my mind, that place represents a future full of nothing but possibilities.  I get a fresh start, and I will have opportunities there that just aren’t available in my current area.  I get to start over in a brand new city with nothing but my two best friends and whatever clothing I can fit into my car. It will be the ultimate adventure.

11)   My brothers.  I don’t see them often, but so much of who I am today is because of the impact they had on me when we were kids.  I’m so proud of them, and want to live in a way that makes them proud to have a sister like me.

12)   Books.  I’m a nerd.  I can, at any time, pick up a book and completely escape the reality of my own life. Sometimes that’s really, really nice.

13)   Nashville, Tennessee.  

14)   FloBama.  I eat there at least three times a week, and I swear that they have the best smoked chicken in the history of the world. 

15)   My awkwardness.  I can’t imagine going through everyday life without strange, hilarious things happening to me.  I would much rather be awkward and interesting than socially graceful and boring.

16)   I have good teeth.  They are almost perfectly straight, and I never had to have braces.  Also, I am 27 years old and have never, ever had a cavity. 

17)   My health.  I was a super sick baby.  More than once, doctors told my parents that they weren’t sure that I was going to make it, and if I did, I would have health issues for the rest of my life.  Aside from two colds a year and the occasional stomach bug, I’m perfectly fine.

18)   My ex-husband’s family.  Though things are completely different now and it isn’t feasible for them to still be a part of my life, for almost seven years they loved me without condition and accepted me as if I was truly one of their own.  As much as I miss them, I will always, always be grateful for the time and love they invested in me.

19)   White-Out corrective tape.  I go through a roll of that magic stuff every few weeks.

20)   Ferdinand the Focus.  My little blue car has been through hell and back, but at well over 130,000 miles, he is still just a chuggin’ along.   Aside from my Daddy, he is the one guy I trust to never let me down.  He may struggle every once in a while, but he never fails at getting me from point A to point B.

21)   My confidence.  I have always been comfortable in my own skin.  I like who I am and I won’t change that in order to suit the idea of what someone else feels that I should be.

22)   This blog.  It is so much more therapeutic than I ever thought it would be.  It kind of blows my mind that so many people are entertained by and can relate to my life.  Maybe I really will write a book one day.

23)   Heather Morris.  Yup.  I’m including her on this list.  She is marvelous and beautiful and the only girl in the world with whom I would run away and live happily ever after.  I have a celebrity crush on her that is rivaled only by my Drew Barrymore obsession from my middle school years.

24)   My scars.  The physical ones.  I have more scars on my face, arms, hands, and legs than most girls.  But each scar tells a story, and those stories paint a pretty clear picture of who I am.

25)   My scars.  The emotional ones.  One of my best friends tells me constantly that the things that I survive, they only make me stronger.  And she is completely right.  She’s right about most things, actually. (Thanks, Alyssa. Ha.)  So as badly as I have been hurt, I’m not totally sure I would go back and change the way everything went down, simply because I am genuinely content with who I am right now and completely confident that I am headed in precisely the right direction.

Yeah… not going to make it all the way to 30.  Not that there aren’t 30 things in my life for which I am thankful, but I’m tired of staring at a computer screen. 

Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can’t you see?

Sometimes your words just hypnotize me.

Someone will write a rap song about me one day.  They will.