Tuesday, May 19, 2015


1) I hate this time of year.  I wish I knew why, exactly, but I have no idea.  Maybe it's the weather, or bad memories, but for the past (almost) 7-8 years, this time of year just depresses the hell out of me.  I always get stressed out and anxious, and since I can't pinpoint what causes it,  I can't really do anything about it. Just got to wait it out, I guess.  Am I the only person who gets S.A.D. in the summer? 

2) Last week I had to go have a crown replaced. Lots of fun, that! Heh, no, not really.  It's something my dentist has been wanting to do for a while, but only just recently decided to follow though on. Apparently, my old crown had not been made correctly, or maybe it had degraded?  I'm not sure, but he wanted to replace it.  I'm actually embarrassed at my reaction to his suggestion that I replace it for two reasons: 1) I asked to be sedated.  Call me a giant weenie-dog all you want, but I seriously hate having people mess with my face holes, and if anyone is going to do something invasive to one of them, I don't want to be lucid. They don't sedate, but they do use nitrous, which I'd never had before. I agreed to that. 2) I said "I'll need to talk to my husband first!"  It wasn't until it came out of my mouth that I realized what that sounded like.  They looked at me really weird and said that it needed to be done, and I needed to make a decision, so they made me an appointment that I could cancel if Steve said no (or whatever.)  Let me clarify: Steve would never withhold any kind of medical/dental treatments from me.  I know this!  However, since his layoff from his last job and because he's still working as a consultant and not a full time regular employee, we have weird vision/dental insurance that we plan on changing, so I wasn't sure if that would be in place by my appointment or not.  I didn't meant to sound like a 50s housewife who needed to check with my husband to make sure my dumb ol' teeth were important enough to spend money on!  :) I did explain that to the lady at the front desk, so let's hope that trickled back to the other folks! 

Anyway, the day of my appointment came and I was worried because I didn't know how out of it I would be.  I've heard of nitrous, but I didn't know what it would do to me.  They fitted the little cup thing over my nose and left me alone for a few minutes.  I kept thinking "This isn't working! I don't feel anything!  They're going to excavate my crown and I'm going to feel everything!  AHHHH!" but then everything got very, very bright.  I didn't feel floopy or anything, but I did stop being afraid.  The dentist came over to give me a shot, but had to walk away to do something else before he could, and the hygienist came over and asked me "are you numb yet?"  I wasn't, of course, but then again, I had no idea what nitrous does to people.  Was I supposed to be numb? Is that what nitrous did to people, make them chill AND numb?  I said "Is it supposed to make me numb? Is he also going to give me a shot?"  She looked at the chart and said no, he hadn't done it yet and it was the shot would make me numb, not the gas.  Noted.  

So the dentist came in and gave me a shot, which I didn't care about in the least, and they stepped back to let that work, and they started talking to each other about watching instructional videos about dental work on YouTube. I asked if they learned things from YouTube and they were all "Oh, yeah! You can learn just about anything from videos on YouTube. If you want to know how to do it, they probably have a video about it."  I nodded and said "Yeah, that's how I learned to castrate pigs. On video, I mean. I never had to do it practically, thank goodness, but still."  That was when I knew for sure the nitrous was working on me.  See, when I've been drinking, or if a doctor has given me a sedative, or things of that nature, there is a tiny voice deep inside of me that stays sane and lucid. Think of it as the pressed dextrose tablet of Kelly at the very center of the Gobstopper that is me.  It's a tiny voice of reason that says things like "WTF did you just say that for?"  or "Wait!  Don't do that!" or "Seriously, that will probably ruin your marriage/job/life. Let's not do that."  I hear that voice. I know the voice is there.  However, I don't always listen to that voice.  While I was talking about castrating pigs, that little voice was saying "No, wait...that...why?!  Stop talking. Stop talking now."  If I'd had the capacity for shame at that point, I'd have been horribly embarrassed, but I didn't give a frak. However, I knew enough not to talk anymore and they got down to business on my tooth.  I'm sure I wasn't experiencing time at a normal rate, because it seemed like they were done in just a few minutes.  I had my temporary crown in place and they made me do a connect-the-dots puzzle to make sure I was okay to drive.  I don't think it wore off as fast as they thought it would, but they let me go anyway and I drove off still feeling kind of weird, but it passed after I got something to eat.  I'm a fan of the nitrous.  I'm wondering why more doctors don't have it!  I'm going to suggest it to my gynecologist!

3) Spiders are out to get me this year.  Last week I was in the bathroom at church, when I thought a bug or something flew by me.  It was so close that I couldn't see exactly what it was, so I stepped back, and it was a rather large spider that had done a Mission Impossible style drop from the ceiling right in front of my eyes.  I almost had a heart attack, but I managed to grab a paper towel and murder the beast.  Yesterday I was at the gym, when a spider fell from the ceiling and landed on my elliptical machine while I was in the middle of ellipticalling.  I know I screamed and flailed, but to give me credit, I didn't slow my pace.  The stupid spider crawled all over the interface and I kept trying to flick it off.  I finally managed to blow it off of the machine and someone stepped on it, but I wasn't comfortable on the thing for the rest of my workout.  Then later, as I was leaving home to go to work, a spider tried to descend onto my steering wheel while I was pulling out of my driveway.  I'm glad i was in my driveway, because I would have run off of the road.  Luckily it was small and I had a sticky note in my console that I used to smash it.  I can't take much more, y'all!  

Wednesday, May 06, 2015


1) So, in case you are interested, I went to the pulmonary doctor and he wasn't worried about what he saw on the CT scan.  He told me I have a 12mm nodule in the upper, right lobe of my lung (about the size of a marble) and a bunch of granulomas (basically, little swollen spots) scattered throughout.  That sounds much scarier than it really is, though, because it mainly just means I'm still having issues due to the pneumonia I had earlier in the year.  I must have had a worse case of pneumonia than I thought!  At any rate, he wasn't worried and I wasn't worried and now I have to go back for a routine 3 month CT scan just to make sure the stuff is going away.  Also, he wasn't that much of a bastard at all.  He was dry and straight forward, but he wasn't mean.  Due to what people had told me about him, I was more scared of meeting this doctor than I was about finding out the results of my scan.

I also got lost leaving the doctor.  I was less than three miles from my house, but I got turned around.  SIGH. I'm horrible at finding my way places.  If it wasn't for my talking GPS, I'd probably be in Guam.

2) A couple of Sundays ago, I was walking to the back of the church when one leg of my pantyhose exploded.  OK, before you make fun of me, yes I still wear pantyhose with dresses.  SHUT UP!  I have pale legs!  Anyway, you might think I'm kidding when I say that they exploded, but I'm not.  I was walking to the sound booth and my left leg started to feel weird. I can't really explain why it felt weird, but I knew there had been a disturbance in the force, if you will.  Since I couldn't pull up my dress in the middle of the sanctuary, I walked back into one of our storage rooms to see what was going on.  I can only assume that I'd bought a defective pair of hose because this is what happened:

Just in case you've never worn hose, I assure you, that is not normal.  So I was standing in a storage room with my dress gathered up to my waist, and one leg of my hose hanging on by a thread.  I was going to try and tough it out, but all I could think of was that thread letting go and the leg of my hose sliding down like a stretched out sock.  Nope.  So I had to take them off.  My legs practically glow in the dark already, so I was not happy with the turn of events.  I also never really thought about how covered up I feel when I'm wearing the hose, so after taking them off, I felt mostly naked.  It was an uncomfortable rest of the morning.
Sometimes being a woman sucks.

3) We think lightning hit the church a couple of weeks ago, and it blew out a whole section of our electronics.  We've had to replace several things, including part of our AV system, an internet switch and wireless router, but one thing we haven't gotten around to is replacing our "Doorbell Camera."  I don't know what the proper name for the thing is, but when people ring the doorbell, a camera turns on a monitor at my desk and I can talk to them through a speaker.  If I want to let them in, I hit another button and it remotely unlocks the door.  That probably sounds like overkill at a church, but trust me, our neighborhood is rough, so it's a necessity.  We've been trying to get people in to look at it and fix it, but we've had the run around like you wouldn't believe. Our security company swore they didn't sell it to us (they did) and the pastor tracked down the original salesman (who no longer works for the afore mentioned security company) and had him come and look at it.  He said he couldn't do anything, but he'd send someone to look at it. However,  because we didn't have a contract with his new company, he had no idea when they could come. Then our current security company called back and said "Oh, yeah, we can totally fix that!"  So they sent a salesman out to look at it, but since he's a salesman and not a technician, all he could do was sell us a new system.   The pastor was not pleased and sent the guy away.  We bought a new power supply, but that's not making it work, so we have no idea when the security camera doorbell will be fixed.  I hope it's soon.  I don't like going to the door.  We have legit crazy people who come here all the time, and I don't like not having the option to screen them out, especially if I'm alone.

One funny thing to come from it, though was on Monday morning, when the representative of our church's security company come by to take a look at the monitor for the camera.  He had to crawl under my desk, which is a horror show of cables and stuff. I'm also worried that food had fallen under there and I haven't found it, so just in case, I apologized for any thing he might find under there.  I said "Sorry if there's crumbs or anything under there, but I eat like a Klingon."  He laughed and said "No problem!  Oh, and may the 4th be with you!"  Now, I wasn't expecting him to say that, and honestly, I haven't figured out the proper response, so I kind of stuttered and said "Oh, and you too!"  He looked at me and said "You know, the 4th be with you? It's a thing people say today. Sorry, maybe I'm just weird."  Bless him, he thought I didn't understand what he was talking about.  He had NO idea.  Anyway, he was embarrassed after that and I didn't know how to tell him "Don't worry, I'm one of you!" so I made some comment about Star Trek that, in retrospect, didn't make much sense and then we retired back to our respective, awkward corners. 

Geeks in the wild, ladies and gentlemen. 

Tuesday, April 28, 2015


I'm so tired of going to the doctor.  I mean, I'm glad that there are doctors out there that can basically digitally peel you apart and see what is going on inside of you, and I'm glad that I have access to those doctors, but I feel like I've had more than my fair share of them this year.

I told you about my visit to the Doc-In-the-Box in January because I thought my heart was glitching, and about that visit leading me to the hours long stress test that I had to take to "ease my mind."  Well, just the other day I had a regular visit with my GP.  Just routine stuff, but I had to have blood work and a chest X-Ray beforehand as part of it.  Two days before my appointment, the doctor's office told me they saw some shadowing on my X-Ray and that I needed to go and have a CT scan of my chest.  This probably would have scared me if they'd told me they found a spot, or a lesion, or a ferret on it, but shadows can be caused by almost anything, including leaning too close to the machine-thing.  So I go to have the CT scan, which was a lesson in patience, because you have to wait SO FREAKING LONG before you get to go back there.  I was given an IV (which thankfully didn't squirt my blood across the room this time) and injected with what felt like hot coffee, but what was (I was assured) contrast dye.  That part was really weird because they told me the dye would feel hot in my veins, and then make me feel like I'd just wet my pants.  They were NOT lying about that.  It also made my liver feel like I'd swallowed some lit birthday candles.  Then I was passed in and out of a scanning doughnut, which spoke to me in a creepy robotic voice "Breathe In. Hold Your Breath. Exhale."  I kid you not, it was like the weirdest Disney ride you could ever imagine.

So that was over, and I was fine with it.  Certainly it would ease the doctor's mind about any lung shadows he may see.  I'd had pneumonia after all, so I was sure that's all that it was.  The same thing happened to Steve a year or two ago, and they'd had him convinced it was inoperable lung cancer, but thankfully it was just because he'd had scars from an earlier bout with pneumonia (which he'd never been treated for because he's stubborn and likes coughing a whole lot.)  So, at my actual appointment I was told everything was fine. Blood work was fine and my CT scan just said I had a nodule (just like Steve) from my case of pneumonia.  He even showed me the report that said it was a lung nodule with a very low chance of being anything scary.  I'm paraphrasing, of course.  All he said was that I have to lose weight, of course, but when do I not?  The only other complaint I had was that my side had been hurting quite a lot. I thought it was my gallbladder, and so did my doctor.  So the next monday he sent me to have an ultrasound on my abdomen.  Fun stuff, that ultrasound.  Imagine getting covered with jelly while someone rolls a Tonka truck all over your stomach. It was weird.  Later that day (and way sooner than I'd imagined) they called me to tell me that my ultrasound was fine, although that doesn't explain the pain, but for all I know there really is a ferret in my spleen.  She also told me that the doctor went back to look at my CT scan and wants me to see a pulmonary specialist after all.  The same one as Steve went to, actually, and he says that doctor is a bit of a bastard, so that should be fun.  Now I have to go see yet another doctor who will probably have me scanned or jellied or some crazy thing.

Somewhere in there I also had a dentist appointment where they told me I need to have my crown replaced in early May and I have yet another, unrelated to anything else thus far, doctor's appointment I have to go to in either May or June (depending on when there is an opening.)

Seriously, I'm very, very grateful that I have access to so many doctors and insurance to help pay for these visits, but this is an embarrassment of riches. Getting old sucks.


I'm testing something out, here. We're fine.  We're all fine here, now. Thank you.  How are you?

Tuesday, April 21, 2015


You guys, I have a problem.

OK, it isn't a real problem. Not like a "I need a kidney" problem or a "I've Been Locked In a Closet for Two Days and Need To Use the Bathroom" problem.  Nonetheless, it's a sort of problem.

I like candy.  I like it a lot.  It used to just be chocolate that I'd hoard and eat whenever no one was looking (although I don't really consider chocolate candy, per se. It's too important for that,) but now it's all kinds of candy.  I blame Steve.  I'm not sure why. 

Anyways, you can look at me and tell that I like candy, but my fondness for it has mutated recently. Over the past couple of weeks, I've been buying Japanese niche candy. I've bought that kind of candy before and I've even talked about it on this very blog.  But now I have a whole lot of it. More of it than a grown up, child-free woman should own all at once.  I'm not sure why, either.  It's like a compulsion! I think it has to do with the Japanese videos that I watch. So, in a fit of what I can only assume is some kind of fever, I Amazoned myself a whole lot of strange Japanese candy.  Some of it is straightforward, pull-it-out-of-the-box-and-eat-it kind of stuff and some of it is way more complicated.  No, seriously, you have to mix things and put things in the microwave.  Also, to be honest, I'm not exactly sure what some of it actually is.  It's all written in Japanese, so I can't even Google it.  I'm just going to have to do my best.

Of course, I'm bringing you all with me!  I can't help it.  I feel less guilty about buying candy when I can talk about it on here, so you will get to see it all, if not taste it all.  Yay!  So stay tuned for what I've dubbed:

Tuesday, April 07, 2015


1) If you follow me on Twitter, I'm sure that there are times that it looks like I'm having a one sided argument that consists of nothing more than me berating someone.  I'm sorry.  Actually, that's sort of what it is. There are times when I am in a situation where I'm hearing things that aggravate me so badly, but I have no business chiming in to say what I'm thinking out loud.  Could I just not say anything at all?  Probably, but I'm kind of mentally wired to express myself, and if I don't, I might explode. True story. I usually do this with my Twitter account because not many people who annoy me enough to be the subject of one of my random tweets knows I've got an account.

Ugh. It doesn't make me feel very nice, but it's better than saying mean things to people who don't know I can hear them, right? RIGHT?

2) We had such a fun visit with our Georgia family!  Steve and I drove over to Waleska to spend the weekend with the Pucketts and McGees!  Amy's birthday was on the 28th, so we combined a birthday visit with a "fix Aunt Brenda's computer" visit!  We had a really great time!  We got there Friday evening, and had dinner and birthday cake with everyone.  I brought a special candle for Amy's cake that sounded really dangerous, but also fun.  It was one of these:

These are very cool, but because I'd never used one, I didn't know what it would do exactly.  The instructions said it would spin, play music, and there is a sparkler in the middle that lights all the candles on the petals.  It says to keep everyone about 3 feet away from it when you light it, so I was expecting a small explosion to happen when it was lit!  Alas, it was a little less spectacular than the video I saw, but still a cool candle.  Also, it didn't set anything on fire, which is always a plus!  I'm also extremely jealous that my niece, Katie, has such pretty purple hair and I can't dye my own to match! :)

Saturday we visited and had dinner with almost everyone for Amy's actual birthday-day dinner, and visited some more when we got back.  Sunday we got to visit with everyone else again until we left.  It was very chill and a lot of fun to see everyone who could be there.  I also got to meet/play with Beau, Aunt Brenda and Uncle Garry's giant black lab, who is the size of an elephant, but still only a puppy, really.  He's so sweet!  We played tug-of-war, chase, and sticks, and we brought him chew-sticks, so he was our friend immediately.  It made me miss Butler and Bear a lot, but I guess if I can see Beau occasionally, I'll be ok!

Steve and I left around lunchtime and drove into Atlanta to eat at Big Chow, which is one of his favorite restaurants.  From there, we went to IKEA, which was both terrifying and fun.  It's terrifying because the place is huge and maze-like, and I always have a sneaking suspicion that you can get lost in one and never be seen again.  It's fun, because they sell a lot of neato stuff, and now I want to buy a lot of furniture that would look terrible in my house.  The line to pay was it's own special brand of hell, though.  You think it's bad when Wal-Mart has 230 checkout lanes and only 3 cashiers?  Imagine that in a place with eight times as many people who are buying furniture. We stood in line for a solid half-hour. Boo!

After that, we finally got on the road and headed home.  We got stopped for about an hour by a huge traffic jam just outside of the city because of road construction, but once we got past that, it was gravy.  Good times.

3) I still don't like my hair.

4) I swear, I think my co-worker just barked.  The pastor barks all the time (well, howls like a beagle, but that's his thing.) My other co-worker never barks.  I'm scared.

5) I'm bummed.  I may have mentioned this a while back, years back even, but one of our former pastors went missing several years ago.  He was the pastor at my church when I first joined, and while he didn't marry Steve and me, he did say a blessing over us at our wedding.  He was a very sweet man and I liked him a lot. However, his wife was a horrible person.  I mean that.  She was not good a being a person.  They'd been at the church for a year or so when she told him she was going to visit family, and then surprised him with a divorce.  He literally had no idea it was coming.  It rocked him, obviously. So much so that he was placed on leave so that he could get himself together.  It wasn't a mean or malicious thing the church did by placing him on leave, I swear. It was really in his best interest, because he wasn't handling anything very well.  During that time he just up and left. He didn't tell anyone, including his own mother, where he was going and no one had known where he was for about 11 years.  He was a legit missing person, with the police involved and everything.  We found out yesterday that he had gone to Mexico to became an English teacher, which was a relief, because we had imagined all kinds of horrible things.  However, as glad as we were to know where he'd been, the reason we had been contacted was because he had died last September.  They didn't tell us how, other than he'd been sick.  I just hope that he was happy when he was in Mexico.  I hope he found some kind of relief and joy and I hope that whatever sickness he had didn't make him suffer. He deserved better than he got, I think.

I hope his ex-wife has nightmares.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015


1) When I was sick at the beginning of the year, I spent a LOT of time lying around feeling miserable.  To keep myself occupied, I started watching a series of videos on YouTube called "Begin Japanology."  I can't be certain, but I think it's an actual show, and not just a YouTube series, that explains various aspects of Japanese living.  I have no idea why I'm so fascinated by these videos, because honestly, they are a weird kind of thing to get wrapped up in.  Each episode deals with one particular subject and it tells the history of whatever it is, the folklore (if any exists) and how it's done there currently. I now know a whole lot about Japanese pickles and Fugu blowfish. 

I honestly think it is the host I like to listen to.  His name is Peter Barakan, and his voice is so darn soothing.  I won't necessarily recommend these videos to you, but if you are ever bored, you can always learn the history of ramen noodles!

2)  I took my stress test last week.  It wasn't a fun thing.  I was referred to a cardiologist after the panic attack I had at the doc-in-the-box to "ease my mind."  I'm actually really embarrassed that I freaked out so hard that I was sent to a doctor.  To be honest, though, it probably didn't hurt that I went, what with my family's history of heart problems, but still...  I actually had two visits.  My initial visit was to have an EKG and talk to the doctor.  I did find out that my blood pressure is higher than it should be, which I think that has a lot to do with the weight I've gained, but the EKG was normal. 

The doctor is Indian, and his accent is so heavy that I couldn't understand anything he said to me.  I felt bad, because I usually do really well with accents, but his just baffled me.  He had me on a table listening to me with his stethoscope, and he said something I couldn't understand.  I just stared at him, hoping his meaning would kind of seep in, and he wound up repeating himself.  I still didn't get it, so he held up his hand and said it again. So I held up my hand, thinking he was asking me to do that so he could hear something better (imagine how someone holds up their hand while swearing on the bible) and he looked at me really strangely and said very slowly and carefully "I said Breathe Normally."  I felt like an idiot, but to be fair, that is really not what it sounded like he said.  *shame* 

I thought that would be all I had to do, but they said I also had to do a sort of pared down stress test. I was ok with that, since I figured it was just walking on a treadmill.  I do that all the time!  So I showed up the day they told me to and immediately had to strip down to my waist and put on a hospital gown. I wasn't expecting that, since I was told to just wear a comfortable, two piece outfit.  Then I was lead to a room where a man gave me an I.V.  I had actually been told I wouldn't be given drugs, but not told that I'd be given some kind of dye, so I hadn't been expecting needles!  He didn't have much trouble getting the needle in, but when I looked back at my arm, I was covered in blood.  I don't know what happened, since I had my eyes closed, but I had to be mopped up.  Gross.  Then I was taken into this very cold room with a treadmill in it.  The nurse who came to administer the test was actually really, very nice.  She must have seen I was nervous, so she kept me talking while she wired me up.  That nurse got REAL familiar with my left boob. Real familiar, y'all.  Once I was all hooked up, I had to walk.  It wasn't bad at first, or at least not as bad as I'd thought it would be.  The only thing is that she kept talking to me, which was distracting.  She made me told on to the bar, and she kept ramping the machine up until I was running. The thing was inclined so high that I felt like Batman scaling a wall. 

Like So.

I have a whole new appreciation of sports bras now.  After this, I thought I was done, but they sent me into a waiting room with  a bunch of other people (similarly topless underneath hospital gowns which were not all cinched as closely as my own.  Yeesh.) I have no idea how long I sat in there, but it was long enough to watch Meredith Veira (?), The View, and part of Kelly and Michael.  I'm not sure if that was part of some kind of endurance test or mindless torture, but that was the hardest part of the whole day.  I would have rather been running at a 90 degree angle with no sports bra again.  Next they took me in for an electrocardiogram, which was fine and normal, and then I was put into some kind of CAT scan machine and I had to lie still for 15 minutes while the thing rotated all around me.  I wasn't told what was being done to me at that point, so I just assumed I was being pumped full of gamma radiation for hulking-out purposes.  After that, the X-Ray man/Gamma radiation tech pulled the IV out of my arm.  I have no idea what he did when he pulled it out, but my blood actually shot all over the wall.  Not from my arm (I don't think my blood pressure was that high) but from the thing he pulled out of my arm.  I had no idea how to react to that, so I just sat and stared at it until he told me to go.  Again, gross.  

Turns out my test results were normal, which I figured they would be, but hooray just the same.  I've been told to lose weight and hopefully I will never have to do any of those heart things again. Fingers crossed for both of those things, please!

3) I still have no idea how to deal with my hair.  It won't do anything I tell it to!  I've decided it makes me look like the perkiest counselor at a summer camp from hell.  That seems very specific, but very apt.  I can't explain it.

4) The other day I pulled out the hand vacuum and was trying to clean up a very messy mess.  It didn't seem to be working, even though I could see that stuff was being sucked up into the thing, but I didn't seem to be making much headway getting stuff off the floor.  I thought for a moment that I'd broken the machine, but it turned out that the latch on the canister was open, and I was just redistributing the stuff I was cleaning up all over the room.  This is why I don't clean more often. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015


Apparently, my boss is annoyed that I don't remind him of when my birthday is.

Every month, I give him a list of people in our church that will be having birthdays so that he can send cards and whatnot, but I never include my own name in there because it seems weird to me to remind someone of my own birthday.  It feels tacky.  The thing is, though, that I'm fairly certain that I have told him for the last couple of years when my birthday is (he's asked) and he never remembers.  Never.

Today he was teasing me again about not telling him when it was, and I said "I've told you, I was born on Valentine's Day! How can you forget that it's on Valentine's Day?"  He says back "I'm not thinking of you on Valentine's Day!  You aren't my sweetheart!"  So he turns to the music minister (Jim, who was walking by at the time) and asks "When you think of February 14th, what do you think of?"  Jim says "Valentine's Day?" So the pastor says "What else?" Jim, bless him, says "Oh, that's Kelly's birthday, right?" 

Cue smug face.  See, I'm memorable enough to some people!

After that he said "Ok, you aren't my sweetheart, but you are my sweet-Tart." He finds me fairly sassy, so I'm ok with being a sweet tart. At least I come by it honest.

Anyways, I'm going to continue to not remind him of my birthday, because it's more fun this way.