Awww, Man!

I lost my visit counter in the conversion. It had gotten so high too. Bummer.

Tired? Or Just Blonde?

Yeah, yeah, I'm not known for my normal sleeping habits. I prefer to get up around 8 or so, watch the Today show while napping on the couch and drinking coffee, work from 11-4, nap, and then hang out till around 2 a.m. So, yeah, I don't do well with my 9-5:30. The other morning, I got up in time to take a shower before work (kidding, kidding). I washed my face first, with Purpose cleanser, then I washed my hair.

And then I squirted out a dime-size amount of conditioner, rubbed my hands together, and promptly began washing my face. With the conditioner. (Or, the cream rinse, as my mama still calls it. ha ha.)

Thankfully I caught myself and salvaged enough cream to put in my hair.

My skin was soft and tangle-free all day.

Not Feelin' the Love

Observation: People are grumpy on Valentine's Day. Like, real grumpy.

We had a reservation at Bonefish last night. We were late because it took me almost ONE HOUR to get home from work. Evidently the blue-hair crowd went to dinner early. Anyway, we called, they said it was fine. But when we got there, it was total chaos. One of the hostesses curtly told Sean that she had to give our table away. Only problem? I had just listened to her grumbling to the other hostess that they were 40 minutes behind and were just seating some 6 p.m. reservations at 7. We waited for a little bit, so I had some time to people watch.

In the first-come, first-serve booths, I saw a lady eating lobster tail. A waitress walked up with a little dish and said, "Here's some drawn butter for you, ma'am." The woman would not even look up at her. I'm not kidding. She said, "Food's almost gone now," while looking at her plate. She just totally refused to be gracious.

The kicker was a group of couples who were upset that they weren't being seated right at their reservation time. All eighteen of them. Now, I ask you. 1) Why would you attempt a Valentine's Day dinner for 18 people? Don't you think that's a tad ambitious? Hmmm? 2) Why would a restaurant accept a reservation that big? Seems dumb to me.

About 20 people came up to check their status. One lady was upset that she wasn't being seated because her reservation had been 25 minutes ago. To which the snotty hostess replied, "Ma'am people are lingering and having a good time. I can't just kick them out."

People. It was a day all about love. Getcha some.

P.S. We were seated by the other hostess, who was super polite and brought us a complimentary order of Coconut Shrimp. Our waiter was great and the food was delish. No complaints here!

Monet, Renoir, Bowlby, Chitwood, Mims

We're such artists. Katie, Lindsey, and I went to Sips n Strokes Wednesday night to paint some Retro Flowers. It was so much fun. We're already planning a return trip. The results below. Sorry, friends, the masterpieces are not for sale.

Pseudo Cheese

I am disturbed by the wording on Pizza Hut's cheese packets. First of all, as a copy editor, I have to say that "hard grating" should be hyphenated. Second, if they're going to name the first two cheeses, why not name them all? I surely don't believe that Pizza Hut has 30 cheeses in their blend. It's not that good. And what, exactly, is hard-grating cheese? It sounds disgusting and...kind of fake.

Some things are better left unsaid.

A Little Spring Redesign

So here we have a new look. I'm not sure what I think about it, and I'll probably change it up again because I found (or, rather, Katie found) a site with tons of free templates. Let me know what you think. It won't hurt my feelings if you don't like it. I aim to please.

Say What?

Two men walked past my cube today, chatting. Here’s what I overheard.

"He gets pulled over because all the police know is that they are looking for a red blazer driven by a skinny white guy who’s been robbing the harlots."

Harlots? Really? I’m pretty sure I heard this correctly.

UPDATE:

The men came back. One was talking about a sketchy dude who won $20 mil off a scratch-off ticket.

“His problem is, he hasn’t registered. So, he cannot claim the money. Or he can give the ticket to a friend and have him claim the money. Problem is, somebody like that probably don’t have the kind of friend who’d give the money back. Or he can serve his time [for not registering...omg, is he a sex offender?] and come out rich. So that’s what he’s gonna do. Serve his time and come out rich.”

You Want Opinions? I Got 'Em

1. Al Roker has gotten too silly for me. Not that I enjoyed his silliness before, it's just that it's gotten waaaay worse. And has anyone else noticed the stutter malfunction the last couple of weeks? It only happens when he's sending viewers to local weather. Examples.

"Here's what's happening in your your neck of the woods."
"Here's what's happening -appening in your neck of the woods."
"Here here's what's happening in your neck of the woods."

2. I like Britney's mom's new hair. She looks nice. Although, she does need a new bra. One with underwire.

Awkward

Tonight I went to a Junior League meeting at someone's home. Once a year several people host home meetings, and I needed a meeting credit, so I signed up to attend one near my house.

I didn't really know anyone except for one girl I interned with a long time ago, and so afterwards we were all standing around chatting. One girl had mentioned that she transferred in from the Miami Junior League recently, so we were asking her questions about its size and what kinds of service work they do.

This girl mentioned that she had started out in Montgomery, then transferred to Florida, and finally here. So, the logical question is what was in Miami, right?

Well I wish someone else had asked. Because after I asked her what took her to Miami and then to B'ham, she got kind of embarrassed. Followed by this.

"Well, I was engaged, but..." Uncomfortable giggles from her. "Well, um, anyway [more giggles] we didn't, and um, I told him he could have Miami and I came back home."

Yeah, okay, glad we got that cleared up. In front of eight women you don't know.

To My Talented Friends Who Knit

Can you please make me one of these crocheted trees? I know knitting and crocheting are different...yet they are the same, right? Either way, you should get started soon, *cough* Katie and *cough* Leah. I'll need to put it up around mid-November. I would prefer to have a pair, but is that asking too much? Many thanks!

Reprimand

I got scolded at Anthropologie. I thought the people who worked there were all peace and love and one world, one heart. Um, no. While Sara, Amy, and I were there on Saturday (Lenox Mall, Buckhead), we saw a really cool, what do you call it, sculpture? It was a contraption of branches and paper cut and folded to look like flowers, and it was hanging above the register. Amy thought it would be cool to do something similar for a party story. So Sara told me to take a picture. I took one shot, and as I was zooming in to take another, out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman waving frantically. I thought she was being silly, trying to wave at the camera, so I gave the obligatory half smile and kept on framing the shot. And then I hear her say to Amy, "She can't take pictures in here."

What. Ever. Lady, please. You don't have a copyright on branches and paper. And besides, anything we create at The Magazine is going to look way awesomer than yours. That's right. Awesomer.

Amy just looked at her, like, um, yeah, not this girl's mom, don't even know her. And I said, "Uhhh, okay. I'll just delete them." Followed by, "Or not," muttered under my breath.

Come on. If I worked at Anthropologie, I would be SO embarrassed that I just caused a scene to tell some girl she couldn't take a photo of sticks and paper.

So I'm posting a shot here. Come get me! I ain't scared.



AND, today I find out that Anthropologie is owned by the same parent company as Free People, and Free People has a blog about store displays, ideas, and the like. So here it is, people, steal away.

http://blog.freepeople.com

Losers.

My Opinion is...

The McDonald's biscuit commercial is stupid. It's the one where the girl talks about getting up super early to prepare scratch-made biscuits. What? Is the phrase not, "made from scratch?" Why do we have to change it up to something dumb? "Scratch-made" sounds ridiculous and also kind of gross.

Am I alone in this one?

Definitely Not Charmin

Lord, this is a doozy. So earlier at work I had to make a stop at the restroom.

I bet I've really grabbed your attention now.

Anywho, I did what I needed to do, and only then did I notice that both toilet paper rolls were empty. Y'all, it was too late! There was no one in the bathroom with me. I sat there a few minutes, but no one came in. I mean, yeah, asking a stranger for TP is a tad awkward, but I'd rather have a red face than, oh, say, tinkle running down my legs.

Then I thought, "Oh, I'll text Katie." But, oh yeah, I don't bring my cell phone with me to the bathroom. And I couldn't very well shuffle to a different stall with my skirt and my striped undies scrunched down around my knees.

Want to guess what I did? Have mercy, this is probably TMI, but since I can't see your faces, I'll go on. I ripped one of the cardboard rolls off the rod.

Again. Cardboard.

And then I blotted. With the torn up roll. The empty roll. And then I went to a new stall for some, uh, back-up.

Gotta admit, this story is rough (pun, ha ha), but I feel I owe it to my blog faithful to share, no matter the humiliation I suffer.

I Am THAT Person

Boy do I have a good story for y'all. It's so humiliating. The best kind, right?

I ran out of gas. On Hwy. 280. In the center lane. I backed up traffic. People probably cussed me out.

As I was driving to a Super Bowl party on Sunday night, my gas light dinged on. Okay, fine, 40 miles to go. I don't typically try to push it, but it was rainy and gross. Ditto at the time I left to go home. Monday morning, no time to fill up, drove to work. Monday after work, talking on cell phone, drove right past gas station and on to Chappy's to meet Sean for dinner.

On the way home, at the red light by Rocky Ridge Road, I was a no-go. I was thisclose to the Chevron. Dang it. That is a bad, bad feeling, my friends.

Oh yeah. I did. Are you laughing? Because it gets better. You'll probably pee your pants.

A sheriff pulled up behind me. With his LIGHTS on. SO embarrassing, y'all, to have to tell the sheriff that, yes, help is on the way, and, no, your battery isn't dead. You're just too stupid to stop and put some gas in your vehicle.

He was super nice while we waited on Sean to deliver some gas. OH, and then, in the left lane, a Tahoe totally slammed into an Accord. The sheriff said, "Let me go make sure they're okay, but then the Mtn. Brook police can handle that one. I'm on my way to Irondale to get a prisoner." I'm sorry those two people had an accident, but I was kind of glad for a distraction from all those evil looks peeps were giving me.

Tomorrow, I hire a driver.

Buckwheat "Buck" Gibson, September 1993-February 2, 2008

Our poor little family dog was diagnosed with lymphoma just days ago, and we put him to sleep on Saturday. It was awful and sad but there was just nothing more that could be done. The doctor said the best he could do was keep him on fluids in the hospital for maybe a week, and that wasn't fair to him. He was so very pitiful and just barely alert, but I know he knew we were there. I'm glad we stayed with him during the entire process.

We miss you, Buck.