Since I'm graduating this Sunday (can I get a woo-hoo!) , I have been thinking a lot about the path that has led me to this place I am right now. I owe multitudinous thanks to a great deal of people who have helped me get to where I am today, so I felt that I should take a few moments to express those sentiments to a few of them so that everyone who stops by can know about what they've done for me.

First and foremost, I thank God...I'm really feeling God in this Chili's tonight. He is the biggest reason that I have not, to this point, jumped off of the roof of a tall building in sheer frustration and, of course, He's always there when I need Him. He has also given me:

My parents, who have always supported what ever weird, off the wall, and unfamiliar activity that I have undertaken - as long as it didn't mean I would be more than 20 miles from them. It goes without saying that they are the ones who have always made me believe I'm better, more talented, and smarter than I probably really am, and for that, I'm thankful. I'd also like to thank them for putting into me the fear of the afore mentioned God, so that I wouldn't do some of the ignorant things that rurally raised children seem to do that ultimately lands them in jail, a home for unwed mothers, or a trailer park out in the sticks. Unfortunately, these life lessons came from them both reprimanding:

My sister, Angie, who I learned from because she actually did all of the stupid things that I never did, and who unconsciously taught me that I was going to have to do more than wait around for someone to marry me to do something with my life. She was also the one who taught me to draw Snoopy at the age of 3 and who's artistic ability completely outstripped my own up until now, and probably still does in many ways, so I'll probably always be working to try and be as good at it as she is. I'd also like to thank her for telling me that the reason she didn't finish college was because she never felt as talented as the other people in her class, because I had been feeling that way in every art class I had ever taken and almost let it take me down, so it just made me work harder to get past the insecurity that I felt and learn to develop my own style no matter what anyone else was doing. It was also her unfortunate choice of past relationships, and the advice of who I should and shouldn't have dated, that helped me find:

Steve, who I thank because he took it upon himself to sign me up for college and tell me that I was going back, no matter what I thought about it. It was he who filled out my application, sent it in, and told me I was accepted. So, really, when it comes down to someone making a choice for me, this one was not a bad one at all! He's also put up with my hissy fits because something didn't work, the moaning because of how much homework I had to finish, the mess and expense that comes along with being an art student, the periodic meltdowns I have had from sheer exhaustion, and the fact that I am not, and will never be, appropriate for any of his corporate and "smart people get togethers" due to my lack of computer knowledge and my obscene desire to talk about the things I've learned in art history- and the fact that he takes me there anyways. : )

There is also

Kenny, who has been my friend for so long that I can't imagine being who I am now without having had his input in one way or another. He's always given me good advice about how to handle the stresses of college, and he always made it look easy, even when it wasn't. So surely, I believed, if he could make it through with little to no trouble, it had to be gravy. I'd like to thank him for that gentle lie. Heeheehee. He also has taken all of the pieces of art that I have shoveled onto him with the grace and delight of a loving Grandma, and (so he tells me), proudly displays them where other people can see it. Believing that at least someone was proud enough of the stuff I made to show it off always made me happy. Of course, he probably has more than his fair share of hit or miss print work and no free space at all on the front of his refrigerator!

Sara, who I thank for always being smarter than me and actually graduating in a timely manner from UAB, prompting me to attend her graduation ceremony and think: Hmmmmm, I'd look hot in that cap and gown!

Josh, who always spoke to me in French and tried his hardest to make me feel intellectually inferior - but never succeeded!

Amy and Jon, for having one of my screen prints matted, framed, and hanging in their house.

The unintentional rude male relative (who shall remain nameless) who basically told me I was unattractive, yet talented. That, my friends, made me know that if the modeling contracts never came through, then I'd need something to fall back on.

Mr. Wayne, who hired me as his administrative assistant, and then fired me a year later. You let me know that I suck at corporate America and should stay as far away from it as possible. I thank you for that every day.

and lastly, (although there are way more people than I'm adding here and if you feel I've slighted you - I apologize - but I'll make it up to you in some way), to everyone who has ever smirked at me when I told you I was an art student. To everyone who ever treated me like I was mentally incompetent because I didn't know how to code HTML, do math, or be able to recite "Sinners In the Hands of an Angry God" when prompted. To everyone who ever tried to dumb down a conversation, because they didn't think I had taken the appropriate classes to understand what they were talking about AND to all of the people who made the "Do You Want Fries With That" joke when it was funny - and well after it stopped being that way...I thank you all too. I thank you for pissing me off so badly that I worked my tail off to prove you wrong. Because, while it is a noble thing to do your best to make the people you love proud, it is truly another blessed thing altogether to be able to succeed just to spite those who think you can't do it. IN YOUR FACE!!!!!!!!!

AHEM.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to retract my last blog entry, which told of the many, many artifacts and pieces of artwork destroyed in the fire at the Bus Barn on Monday. I was told, unequivocally, that there were no - I REPEAT- no priceless and irreplaceable, space related artifacts damaged or otherwise cremated in that fire. I'd hate to have that rumor SPIN out of control. I didn't mean to LIE to anyone, and I know now that to even think that any of our important artifacts could have been improperly stored in a non-humidity controlled, probably not sealed, and certainly inappropriately protected area of our property would be an embarrassment to our business and our crack (maybe on crack) team of archivists and historians. I'd like to apologize for misleading you with false information. You may spit on me without recourse at our next meeting. *smirk*

Oh, and I also lost my entire supply of Sentra in that fire. Sentra is a rigid plastic sheet that enables me to create my fabulous, and certainly uncriticizing, signage. Boo. Now I am going to get behind on my jobs! Darn that fire for burning nothing except for my supplies and the building it was stored in!

Oh, and I also hurt myself again while painting the Space Dome wall. How much of a goober do you have to be to hurt yourself while painting? Geez. I have to wear a wrist brace most of the time, but I'm going to decorate it so that it looks less...medical. I don't care if I hurt myself, I will always feel like that kid who wears band-aids for attention if I have to wear any kind of appliance. Oy.

Well, I picked a bad day to take a day off from the SpRocket! The Bus Barn burned down yesterday, and I mean, it burned DOWN. They are going to have to destroy it and build another shop. Don’t let the name fool you; the bus barn was more than just a place where they parked busses. They did all kinds of construction for exhibits and things down there. I’ve been down there to add decals to missiles and cars and (horrors within horrors) some of our artifacts were stored upstairs. Artifacts, as in, irreplaceable paintings and/or watercolors by pre-cold war Russian artists who have sense gone on to the great beyond. Gah! It makes me want to vomit. Other than that, I’m glad no one got hurt and that the fuel pumps were deactivated when the fire started. I’m also glad that even if there had been a missile down there being restored, it would have been deexplosivetated. Can you imagine accidentally launching one of our Russian missiles at Redstone Arsenal accidentally? Schnikes.

To the he first person to ask me if I am going to start popping out babies simply because I've finally finished college: I Will Cut You.

I plan nothing.

You have been warned.

FRIDAY UPDATE- SPIDERMAN 3 EDITION

Yikes. If you happen to notice the date on this entry, you will see that it is actually Saturday morning, but I feel I may not have another chance to write about this week before it gets to be old news, so just bear with me, K?

It seems as if this week has been both 5 minutes long as well as 100 years long. It has been a long time since I have been so sleep deprived that I began hallucinating, but this week has helped me along with that!

All this week I have been working to get the SpaceDome lobby in shape for the Spider-Man 3 opening. Since it was to be the SpRocket's first "Real Movie" opening (we normally don't get the regular movies until they have been in the theater for a while, or until they have already been out on DVD for a while), Marketing and Guest Services wanted everything to be lovely. Although my job is really to make signs, I often get drafted - or I volunteer - to help out with other things as needed. This time, instead of helping out, I was kind of on my own. That was fine, because I got to make things the way I wanted them to be, but it was a lot of work. I've already told you about the giant spider-web, which one of my co-workers took his life in his own hands to begin dogging it as soon as he looked at it. Granted, I can take criticism, and the web didn't turn out like I had envisioned, but I was tired and punchy when he started doing it and that's a bad time to criticize me. I must have struck a nerve with him when I chewed his face off about it because so far, he's apologized to me twice. Anyways, I also made another web out of twine, which suspends a replica camera (that I also made) in between two columns in the lobby, like Peter Parker did in the first movie. I had wanted a strobe for the fake camera so that it looked like it was taking pictures, but I couldn't get my hands on one that was the right color, as well as small enough. Oh well. Although all of those things took a while, my biggest project was that of a wall mural that they allowed me to paint on the glass wall of the Space Dome projection booth. It's not my best work, because I didn't have a great deal of time to work on it, but everyone seems to really like it. It's a cartoony skyline silhouette in black and white, with some signs and stuff added in for funzies. I tried to give all of the projectionists and ushers a mention in one place or another, and all of the employees who've come to see it think they are funny. I painted a big church called "St. Gregory of the IMAX" for the Theater Manager, "Howard's Theater" and "Burrell's Hotel" for one of the projectionists, and "Anthony Hale's House of Un-Cut Funk" for the Chief Projectionist. I also added "Fat-Head Steve's Tequila & Waffles" restaurant for Steve, because he used to work at the theater and because it was my call. Sue me. I also added in some stuff for other people, but it was all tiny and they have to play Where's Waldo to find them. The painting stretches across 6 of the 8 windows, and at the tallest point is probably about 8 or 10 feet high. I was so high from paint fumes and so tired from the work, that St. Gregory's suffered a little. Oh, well, it was still a lot of fun. I've been told that if we get to open the next Harry Potter film, I'll be painting a rendering of Hogwarts on the window. I hope I can get at least two weeks for that one. Oy.

I love being artistic!

Oh yeah, I also embarrassed myself last night because of that mural. When I stand behind the shortest building, you can only see from my eyes up. I was standing there with Anthony looking at the crowd, when I had a moment only those of us with long, crazy hair can understand. I had it clipped up with one of those evil looking spring loaded clips, and it was giving me a headache, so I reached back and pulled the clip out and shook my hair kind of wildly. I didn't even realize I people could see me because most of me was hidden by the painting, but not all of me. Apparently, I was unintentionally channeling Tawney Kittain, because it got this group of teenage boys tickled at me. I wasn't trying to go all White Snake on anyone, but that started a round of me watching them flip their hair and imitate me. When I finally got my hair subdued, when I stood there behind the building again, all you could see was a little poof of my hair moving back and forth along it's roof line. I finally just pulled out my hair clip, put on one of the head-sets and pretended to be pre-crazy Britney Spears until they went into the theater. Never say I don't do what I can to entertain the public.

There were hundreds of people who came to see ol' Spidey. I didn't have to usher like I thought, but I still stayed until after midnight last night so that I could help out wherever needed. I got to give away the Midnight Showing door prizes, and they let me use the microphone. I'll just say, that a tired and goofy Kelly should probably not be given the ability to make public announcements. After everyone was in, I had to ask them to move to the center of the aisles and leave the outside seats open for stragglers. Most of them complied, but I could see from the usher booth that some people weren't doing it. I told them that they had to move over and make some new friends. When that didn't work, I said "I can seeeeeeeee yooooooooooou! I won't start the movie until you mooooooooooooooooooove!" Since they didn't know where I was, I saw quite a few people get nervous and move over stealthily. I also got to ramble and be silly until the prizes were given away and we started the film. It was great fun.

I don't have any pictures of anything at this point, but I am going back to work with the IMAX guys tonight, so I'll try and get some to show off. It's not my best work, but the sheer size of it makes me proud! : )

I feel. Like someone. Has beaten me. With a stick.

Sorry for the Capt. Kirk-ness of that, but were I to say that out loud, that is what it would sound like.

I mentioned before that I was decorating the lobby of the SpaceDome for Spidey 3, right? Well, I was back at it last night, and again I worked until 11:00. Do you want to know what I was doing? I was building a 2o' spider web out of raffia. I don't think it could have taken longer if I had to literally learn to spin the silk from my own body. I also had to hang it by myself. Where, you may ask? It is now spanning the balcony opening above the lobby.

I'm not one to look for compliments, normally, but if at least one of my superiors doesn't wet themselves out of sheer delight at the feat of acrobatics it took for me to get the danged thing up there...I'll put strychnine in the guacamole.

I also got to open the sacred display case and drape our "Limited Edition, Movie Reproduction, Accurate to the Nth Degree Darth Vadar Costume" with spider webs.

There will be pictures. Oh yes. There will be pictures.

As for right now, my boss has given me some comp time for working so late, so I don't have to go in until 10:30 this morning. I'm still not done with the lobby, but at least I can have a break from it for a couple of hours. : )

Another really quick note...

I've been giving the charge of decorating the Lobby and SpaceDome Lobby of the SpRocket for the opening of Spider-Man 3. I'm tired, I'm busy, and apparently no one department can decide what is more important for me to work on, so I've been at the museum until after 11:30 for the past two days.

We watched the test run last night (because I'm also going to be ushering during the opening weekend due to the lack of help they have right now) and I was practicing my field-flattener skills. That is a fancy way to say that I am the one who will clear dust chunks off of the movie while it runs. Wow, that art degree is taking me to me moon. : ) Actually, it's kind of fun, but don't tell anyone I told you so.

The movie is great, if a little emo. Lots of crying and self pity. No wonder Spidey wears a black suit during half of the film. I almost expected Toby McGuire to start wearing eyeliner and cutting himself while listening to The Cure. Other than that, it's really good! Come see it in IMAX!

Oh, and as an aside...the fourth "Bless Your Heart" award will be going to Kirsten Dunst for the fact that some very, VERY, heartless person made her sing in this movie. Erm...she's really...uh...unmusical. That, and her weird, vampire teeth are horrifying on a three-story high screen.

Well, back to the salt mines!

CAN I GET A WOOT-WOOT?!

Guess what I just finished?? COLLEGE!

Heck yeah!

More later!

It's official. I can't take me anywhere.

At the risk of sounding all girlie (and that sounds weird to some people, but when the majority of your friends are guys, they do forget you are a chick sometimes and become alarmed at feminine emotions. Therefore I always warn when it's about to happen.) I had to walk around Target yesterday pretending that tears were a result of some kind of violent allergy problem. Yes, I was crying at Target. Why is this, you may ask? Well, I did a stupid thing. I went to PetSmart while they were having a pet adoption. You all know my soft spot for puppies, or you should at least if you know me well. I walked up there determined that I wouldn't fall in love with any dogs and I'd just take the opportunity to see, and possibly hold, a puppy. Well, that was stupid. Almost the first thing I see is a pen full of Labridoodles (or maybe mutts, if you want to call a spade a spade) and they were all sleeping and being puppy-like. I wanted to pet them, but I knew if I did, I'd be in trouble. So I turned to the next pen and there was a black puppy that reminded me of Bear when he was about 12 weeks old. He was all alone, and he had his little paws up on the edge of the fence wanting attention. So I reached down to love on him and that's where I got into trouble. The lady who was watching over him told me his brother had just been adopted and this little guy was sad and confused. I bent down to see him better and he put his paws up on my shoulders and nosed the side of my face. The dog hugged me! I suddenly knew how Angelina Jolie feels like when she goes to a new country and sees a child she wants to take home! So I put his paws back on the ground and went on to Target. I wanted that dog, people. It was only the knowledge that A) Steve would be pissed and B) the killer B's would eat him, that restrained me from grabbing that dog and running towards the car. So I wound up trying to look allergic rather than sad as I walked down the sidewalk away from him.

Somtetimes being soft-hearted SUCKS!

Last minute projects. Finals. Work. Sick.

These are all reasons that you have not seen very much new stuff on my blog lately, if you've been checking, that is.

It seems like everything is bursting up around me all at once, as things are wont to do at the end of a long journey, I suppose. I can't say for certain, since I've never really had that many long journeys! That's a resounding BOO for me not having more concrete goals, I suppose. But hey, I'm working on it! : )

I finished my first final yesterday (woo-hoo) and since no one else was around, I had to settle for hugging my dogs in sheer delight of that fact. (You know, since Steve left me and all. For the week, people! For the week. Geez.) However, I can't say that was terrible, because I like to hug my dogs, and they were both very excited for me. I have one more final on Tuesday and then I will officially be done with school. Well, at least until I feel masochistic and go back for my masters someday...in about fifty years.

I actually have been doing lots of interesting stuff, but being so busy, I haven't had a chance to write about it. Don't worry, though, I will. I will also be taking a short sabbatical from the blog for some other reasons, but nothing too interesting. I suppose some of the joy has gone out of it lately, for one reason or another, but not all of it. Once I do finally get back and write up all of the stuff that has been going on, it'll likely take me a long entry, or two. : )

OK, so I leave you with this, and I'll talk to you soon!

THINKLINGS

- Do you know what sucks? I rarely use special creams on my face, mainly because I haven’t reached the age where the fear of wrinkles and such might nudge me to do so. Also, I don’t really know that much about that kind of stuff and I don’t feel like going to a dermatologist to ask. However, I got a free sample of this awesome stuff called Freeze 24/7 that has helped erase the duffle bags I get under my eyes from lack of sleep and school stress. It’s amazing how much of a difference it makes! So I thought that I would buy some so that I could keep using it. Not so much. Holy Botox, Batman! That stuff costs too much! They must literally use the blood of Martian virgins in it for it to be so expensive! I’ll stick with the duffle bags, I think.

- Something I learned from my trip to Miami and the subsequent troubles befallen me along the way. A pair of GAP jeans will only hold its proper molecular structure for three consecutive wearings without being washed. On that third day of wearing them, wear a belt or have emergency pants somewhere nearby, because those suckers are going to lose integrity.

- Allergies are evil. Pollen is Evil. Stopped up noses and scratchy throats are evil. Coughing is evil. However, sneezing is rather fun.

- I’d also like to thank all of the stank Meth addicts who have made it impossible for me to walk into a drug store and purchase any type of medicine that might actually relieve the symptoms of allergies without going through a three day waiting period and giving a DNA sample. Whatever the drug companies are putting in their OTC stuff now make them about as effective as swallowing a Skittle.

- David Tennant is so adorable. I know I’ve said this before, but I wanted to reiterate.

- Also, a Mr. Nibbles update! He apparently likes the graham crackers.

Just a quick weekend update this time due to the fact that not much happened. Thursday night we had dinner with Josh and Sazio’s (we go there a lot so that he can use up the gift certificates he’s accumulated before that vow of poverty kicks in.) Friday night we had dinner with Anthony at Beauregard’s. That place always makes me feel a bit like Homer Simpson…mmmmmmmm, Beauregard’s. It’s one of my favorite places to eat! Afterwards we went to Books-A-Million to walk around. Very exciting.

Saturday, we didn’t have much planned except for working around the house, but very little got done. My allergies made me sleepy and pitiful and Steve got sick with some kind of stomach virus in the middle of the day. We thought it was just a reaction to taking some medicine without eating anything, at first, but as the day wore on, we realized he must have really been sick. He slept for a while and I made cookies. They are darn fine cookies, too! Oatmeal Cinnamon Chip, if you might indulge me to be specific. I never thought I could enjoy cookies that didn’t have chocolate in them so much!

Sunday was church day, of course. I backed off from going over to my parent’s house so I could stay home with Steve in case he needed anything. I was also scheduled to sing during the night service and I had found a website where I could download accompaniment tracks for .99 cents apiece. I was so glad, because I need some new music, but it’s a pain to go to the Christian Bookstore to find a tape or CD unless you are going out that way, and I wasn’t. Steve had been after me to sing “He Is Alive”, but I could never find it in my range. However, I did find it on this website! Woo-Hoo! Unfortunately, Steve was too sick to go to church that night, so I sang another song and promised to sing that one when he was able to hear me. I reiterate: I am the Best. Wife. Ever. After church I had to run an errand and got dinner for Steve and myself. Unfortunately, he got sick after eating just a little and then went to bed. Me, I hung out with the doggies and watched TV. Butler is doing much better and he says thank you all for your good wishes. He also said he wished you had sent bouquets of Snausages, but that he isn’t mad about it or anything. Bear knows that he wasn’t sick or recovering from surgery, but he wishes you had sent the Snausages, too.

On to the good news front! Sara is home! Not just out of the hospital, but out of Miami and back home–home. Her mom told me that she got in on Saturday. I could have gone and met them at the airport like a nice friend, but I was guessing that other people would be there to greet her AND she was probably exhausted from the flight. I hope to go and visit her soon, but I’m waiting for her to e-mail me and let me know she wants company. AHEM…HINT – HINT! I feel kind of bad because the last letter I sent her before Easter didn’t make it to her. I didn’t get it until Thursday of last week, but apparently I didn’t put enough postage on it. Well, that’s what they said, but I don’t see how. Stupid Postal Rates. : P

I have a new buddy at work.
I call him Mr. Nibbles. He is a little squirrel that has been visiting the balcony outside of my office. He’s a brave little soul, normally, but he has been jumpy today. I have been crumbling graham crackers up and leaving them outside, but he hasn’t been near them today. He came right up to me last Friday when I was standing by the screen door, but he seems a bit skittish if he thinks I’m going to come outside and grab him. I don’t know how, but I think he knows Steve made me taste squirrel once. Trust me, I don’t think I’m going to make eating them a habit. *shudder*

That is all.

I'm sorry if you've been dropping by and have been bored with the same entries day after day. Normally I update my blog during slow time at work, but because our (expletive deleted) IT guy set a time limit on how long we can stay on certain sites, I don't ever have enough time to write what I want and still have enough time to publish it. I'd love to throw a dart at him.

Anyway...

There are two really good reasons why I should start having my eyebrows professionally waxed and stop doing it myself. Unfortunately they are both on my face. Oy. I know someone who will be investing in some eyebrow pencils very soon. Oh, and speaking of that, if you're talking to me and I look surprised...just ignore it.

Poor Butler had to go to the Vet yesterday and have some dental work done. He was only going in for a cleaning, but they found out that the tooth he broke was on the verge of being abscessed, so they had to pull it. To do so, they had to give him a general anaesthetic, so they had to shave a band around on of his legs to give him an IV. Now the neighbor dogs laugh at him. Very sad.
When Steve brought him home, he wondered around, looking dazed and staring at the wall. Occasionally he would stand by either Steve or I and just lean. Bless his little, furry heart. He walked into his kennel and I went to get him some cheese as a treat. After I'd given it to him, I walked out of the room again for a second to get something, and when I walked back in I said "Go to sleep, Butler" without looking at him. I didn't need to say anything because in that second and a half of being out of the room, he fell over and slept. :( He was actually really goofy until this afternoon, but he's acting more normal now.

I finished my research paper for Theater History. I wrote about - ahem - Visual Elements of Characters in Traditional Japanese Theater. Yeah, I know. It's actually thin enough to read through, but I hope it can pull off a B. I want to keep my honors status. Why? Because I'M GRADUATING SOON! WOO-HOO!

I faced a fear the other day and read, or listened to the audio novel of, The Exorcist. Believe it or not, it was actually a good book. Scary, but good. It didn't terrify me like the movie did, but I still got the heebs. Ed walked up behind me while I was listening to it and scared me. Luckily I had already put down the Exacto knife, or he would have needed a priest.

Steve and I went for a walk last Friday night and I realized something. I've realized that I will leave Steve behind if I feel we are in danger. I don't have to run fast, I just have to run faster than Steve! : ) We were at the elementary school where he had gone as a kid and he wanted to see if an old tree was still there. The original school was destroyed in the tornado of 89, so I suppose that's why he wanted to stop. It was dark, I wasn't wearing my hated glasses, and as we walked up to the tree, I saw a man crouching in the shadows. So I did what anyone would do, I pushed my husband out in front of me and ran. Boy, was my face red when I was told that the weird man in the shadows was actually a tall stump. Ha ha...ha...um.

Well, that's all for now. It seems like there was something else I was going to say, but I can't remember it!

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) Just a bit of advice: Try not to wear a wrap dress on a windy day. I learned this the hard way, and so did that nice family from Michigan. Sorry, you guys!

2) Apparently my adolescence-long fixation with 4-inch high heeled shoes did not give me an eternity of balance. I wore low heels today and I walked like a new born moose. Had I knobby knees, the picture would have been perfect. Thank goodness I haven’t fallen yet! I used to be able to run in heels. Oy, getting old sucks.

3) I only have 6 more classes to go! Six! Six! Woo-Hoo! *Does the proverbial dance of joy*

4) I was supposed to do a class presentation today and got all set to present, but the teacher kept us busy reading Othello all class period. I had psyched myself up all day for this, and now he expects me to do it next Thursday! Woe to he who diverges my creative flow! WOE!

5) I was feeling snacky when I got back from school today, so I stopped by the break room to grab some chips. Our employee break room has the single oldest vending machine on earth in it, and it never fails that at least 3 out of 5 things will get stuck on the spiral thingie before it falls. Today it was my turn. Apparently the chips didn’t get stuck so much as they hovered in mid air in front of the spiral thingie, so I rose up righteous and beat the machine within an inch of it’s miserable life. I got my chips, though! That machine BETTA RECOGNISE!

6) I have 100 cranes! Only 900 more to go!

Because Steve has some odd friends...













Todd, Sharon, this one's for you!

WEEKEND UPDATE!

Oh yes, it’s that time again.

FRIDAY: After work, things seemed to get fairly busy for Steve and I. We went to our tanning place (Shut up, I’m pale) and then we had to go to Sam’s and buy drinks. We tend to buy them all at once and then drink them all before we restock, so I’m pretty sure we must look slightly nuts every time we go in there. Slightly thirsty nuts. At any rate, we finished up with the shopping and on the way home I got a horrible stomachache. I don’t know what caused it, but I literally thought I was going to have to go to the hospital. Luckily, it went away just as suddenly as it came. Weird. Anyway, we were supposed to go to dinner with Josh, but he called about the time I thought I was dying, so we cancelled on him. Sorry, Josh! We spent the rest of the evening goofing off.

SATURDAY: I had planned to come into work and catch up on some of the work I had missed while I was n Miami. I have this one rather huge project (not huge in size, but huge because it’s complicated) that has been keeping me busy for several days and I figured that I’d be able to finish that up and then do some of the other things on my list. Unfortunately, I am an idiot. I brought my airbrush and compressor so that I could paint this sign faster with less drying time. I got everything set up except for attaching the airbrush nozzle, which took me a while, and when I opened the case for the nozzle, I realized that the hose wasn’t in there. I just sat there and stared at the thing for a few minutes and felt stupid. So I ended up having to paint the old school way, which took the entire time I was there. I also had to redo some of the vinyl and then remove other parts I had already applied. It sucked. After I got as far as I could go, I went home and got ready to go to dinner at Sazio’s, which is a very wonderful Italian place in Five Points. We rode with Greg and Shannon, and met Josh and Anthony there. We had a great time, but I think we were a little loud. We didn’t mean to be, though. The only dark spot of the day was the service was BAD. I don’t know if the servers were new or what, but even though we were a party of 6, they kept forgetting about our table. That had never happened there before. We spent the rest of the evening with Shannon and Greg at our house talking and playing with the dogs. Butler LOVES Greg.

SUNDAY: Church and lunch with the parents. I embarrassed myself first thing that morning because I was talking to our associate pastor down in the office and accidentally called him “Babe.” I didn’t mean to, but he had started looking around for something and I said “What do you need, babe?” like I do to Steve. We both turned red and I just walked out. Oy vey.

I had also taken my cap and gown over to my parent’s house so that I could have a picture made to put in my graduation announcements. Now, I don’t know if I am completely deluded, or if the camera hates me, but those pictures turned out horribly. I don’t remember looking in the mirror and seeing the person who I saw in those pictures. It was embarrassing! It’s no wonder Steve doesn’t like to take pictures of me…yikes. I think I’ll just stick to pictures of my feet.

I stayed home from church that evening to do some research for one of my papers. I’m beginning to run out of time, so now I’ve got to focus. I have two research papers and one class presentation to prepare for. Yuck. After I got as far as I could go on the research, Steve and I watched an episode of “The Weakest Link” from BBC which had characters from “Dr. Who” on it, and then the first episode of the new season of Dr. Who. David Tennant is so adorable, and Scottish, so his accent makes him twice as cute. : )

Another Me-Me Quiz!

All My Exes...

1. Your name?
Kelly

2. Would you kiss your Ex one last time if you had a chance to?!
Some of them, sure. I dated a lot of good kissers!

3. How many boyfriends have told you they loved you?
3

4. Have you ever thought that you were going to marry that person?
Twice, but only seriously once.

5. Are you crushing on someone?
What kind of question is that for a married woman? *whistles and looks away*

6. Have you ever liked someone so much that it hurt?
Yes

7. Have you ever made a boyfriend or girlfriend cry?
I don't think so. It'd be pretty funny if I did, though.

8. Are you happier single or in a relationship?
I always try to be happy either way, but it is nicer to have someone to snuggle with.

9. Have you ever told someone you loved them and didn't mean it?
Only once, and I'm still rather ashamed.

10. Have you ever had your heart broken?
Oh, yeah.

11. Have you ever broken someone's heart?
I don't think any of my exes were attached enough to be heartbroken over me.

12. Think any of your ex's feel the same?
Who knows? I doubt they think of me much.

13. Do you believe that you are a good girlfriend?
I can be, but I can also be an unholy terror.

14. Have you dated people who were not good to you?
Yes. A borderline pedophile, an emotionally abusive jerk, an unbalanced psychopath and a liar. Not necessarily in that order. Bastards.

15. Have you been in an abusive relationship?
Sort of. I punched Jason Harris in the head. . . twice. Does it count if it were me who was abusive and if they really deserved it?

16. Have you dated someone older than you?
I've always dated older guys.

17. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?
Maybe not everyone, but it's OK sometimes.

18. Do you Believe in love at first sight?:
Yes.

19. Do you want to get married?
I don't know. It's an awful big commitment.

20. Do you believe in ex's being best friends?
Yes! I'm very close to some of my exes.

21. Does heart break really feel as bad as its said to be?
Worse.

23. Would you date one of your best male friends?
If I were single, or at least really sneaky, yes.

24. Have any of your ex's called you by a nickname after the breakup?
Jason still calls me "Sweetie Darlin' Head" when we see each other. I'm sure some of them still refer to me as "Bitch."

25. Do you regret any of your relationships?
Don't we all?

26. Who is an ex you think about most often?
I think about all of them from time to time, but probably Kenny, Jason and Tadd the most.

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) For those of you who are interested, I did get my bag back. It got back to me last Saturday night at 7:45. I'm so glad it wasn't lost for good, although I was looking forward to sticking it to U.S. Airlines and getting some money from them. I think what happened was that it was searched and then misplaced. When I opened it, there was a card in there that said they had opened my bag. I wonder if it had the same chemical on it as my shoes.

2) I've got another month before my finals. One more month. One loooooooooong last month.

3) Sara is out of the hospital for now, according to her dad. However, she is sick with a cold. BOO GERMS! I have fully taken advantage of the chocolate while she's been out, but I will stop again if she goes back in. Let's all hope she doesn't go back in!

4) I've started going to a tanning bed again. I know, I know...I said I'd never do that again. However, last Sunday I wore a pair of cropped pants and my legs practically glowed in the dark. Steve put his hand next to my ankle and I swear, compared to me he looked Middle Eastern, and he's not exactly that tanned. So now I'm slightly burnt and my back itches like crazy. I do have one problem, though. I have a perfect line in the middle of my torso that will not tan. It also isn't burned. It's weird. I look like a chimera! Oh well, I suppose that just means no bikini for me this summer. (and the world breathes a sigh of relief.)

5) I've only made 67 cranes, so I need to get busy. Oy.

Why do most of my embarrassing moments include me being partially nude in a public place?

Yesterday as I was leaving school, I realized I needed to run by Wal-Mart to buy some paint to finish up a sign I had been working on. As I was walking through the parking lot, I realized that I felt a breeze. I looked down and my shirt was unbuttoned almost to my belly-button! EEEEK!

I fixed my shirt and decided right then and there that I would be buying a tank top to wear underneath my shirt for the rest of the day! I got the tank top and returned to work, and as I was walking through the parking lot, I realized that my shirt was unbuttoned again! Once again I buttoned it and hurried in to put on the tank top. Before I made it to the door, the shirt was open again! What the? I had to run into the nearest restroom and put on the tank top before I ended up embarrassing myself. I couldn't figure out why I was having this problem, because I had worn it before and didn't flash anyone!

I found out by accident what was causing it. I have a new purse that has a long strap and I was wearing it across my chest to keep my hands free. Apparently, every time I reached into it for something, it was pushing the buttons through the button holes.

*dies*

CONCLUSION

After all of the mess it took for me to get there, the actual visit was great! I mean, of course Sara was sick most of the time I was there, which sucked, but I enjoyed my visit. I told her that I knew I was ugly, but she didn’t have to throw up every time she saw me. : ) Hmmmm, now that I think of it, she didn’t disagree with me. Evil heifer!

Monday I spent the day with her watching TV, except when her mom took me to Target to buy some clothes. I was literally wearing my pajamas because that was the only other clothes I had since my bag went AWOL. We rode across town on the elevated train and after Target we went to the mall, which the Target cashier swore was close (but she lied), and Gail and I hauled our giant shopping bags through a very posh shopping place. We were hot and thirsty by the time we made it to the restaurant we were looking for. It was an Italian place with very wonderful food. After that we stopped by The Cheesecake Factory and got some goodies to take back to Sara and went back to the Transplant House. I wanted to take a shower and change into some of the clothes I had bought so that I wouldn’t still be in my pajamas, and I met Gail and Sara in the hospital room. Sara introduced me to the wonderful world of “Housewives of Orange County” and “The Hills” as well as some weird show about a guy who travels all over the world and eats disgusting food. We had to turn that last one off because even though Sara is the one who is constantly nauseated, I am the one who almost threw up. The man ate ants and testicles, for the love of Pete! While at Target, I went to the dollar section and got all three of us some of those headbands with the ears on them that little kids wear at Easter. I picked out lamb ears and Sara and I wore ours while we sat and watched TV. Sara forgot she had hers on, so when the docs and nurses came in and out, we got some strange looks. I could have reminded her she was wearing a wooly headband with ears on it, but I didn’t. I got a kick out of the looks. The funny thing was, no one ever mentioned them. They came in, asked how she was, and looked from her to me, me to her, and then they would leave. I found out the next day she had so completely forgotten she was wearing them that she slept in them! Heeheehee.

Tuesday was about the same, but Sara felt much more sick. I felt bad that I couldn’t do anything to help, but there was really nothing that could be done on my part without cracking her on the back of the head to knock her unconscious. I didn’t think she’d appreciate that anyways. In the middle of the afternoon I got a blinding headache, one of those that make me sick to my stomach, and I had to go back to the transplant house and lie down before Sara and I started doing Dueling Barf-o’s. Luckily I caught it before it got that far and slept for a couple of hours. When I went back, Sara had been to get scanned and once she came back, all three of us spent the next few hours talking and I got to tell Gail about the silly things Sara had done in High School. We talked until pretty late, and as far as I could tell, we all had a good time.

Wednesday when we went back to the hospital, Sara had been sick in the night and still felt fairly terrible. My ride called to say they were in the neighborhood already, and since I knew Sara was exhausted and probably completely tired of me by then, I said my goodbyes and went back to the airport. I checked about my bags again (still no dice) and then began my trip home. Everything went well from there on, the only bad thing being that the lady next to me dropped her carry on bag on my head while trying to get her cell phone out, but even that wasn’t a big deal.

I made it home by about 9:45 that night, Huntsville time, and couldn’t wait to get a big hug from Steve when he met me at the baggage claim.

Once again, the joke was on me.

My plane landed early, my husband was late. I can’t really blame him for thinking that I’d be later than planned after everything the airline had put me through. I was kind of pitiful sitting in the empty baggage claim area waiting for him, though. He finally got there, but I didn’t get a hug. I swear, one of these days I am going to have someone be excited to see me after I get off of a plane! It doesn’t even have to be Steve anymore! I give up!

He just took me home and after I had eaten dinner, I slept like the dead.

My journey had ended.

SUNDAY MARCH 18/ CHARLOTTE & FT. LAUDERDALE AIRPORT

You know, traveling alone isn’t so bad. I mean, I don’t think I would want to go on all my vacations alone, but there is something to be said about not having to worry about anyone else while you explore to your heart’s content. No offense to anyone I’ve ever traveled with, but I like to look at stuff and some of you don’t, so it was nice to be on my own this time, problems or not…well, most of the time.

When the idea was first broached that I fly to Florida sans companion, I was terrified. Literally, I grew up so sheltered and protected that the first time I ever drove to Birmingham alone, I was 22 and my mom STILL had kittens about it. She had me convinced that I was going to be murdered and buried in a shallow grave before I could get home. Trust me, I love my mom, but the woman has pretty much stayed in a 20 mile radius of where she grew up, so I think the idea of me being outside of that comfort zone scares her silly.

But I digress.

I had a few weeks to acclimatize myself to the idea of flying to strange places alone, and I had gotten used to the idea in a “Country Mouse Visits the City” kind of way. When the whole debacle happened and I was stuck in Charlotte, I had a feeling that I was going to have a brief, but powerful, panic attack that would probably end up with me chasing a plane down the runway, begging it to let me onboard so I could go home. However, I had hit “Kill Me” mode, and I realized that if I was going to snap out of the country mouse state of mind, I was going to have to be an adult. Also, I was too tired to muster up the strength to have a meltdown.

As I lay in the floor of the airport, which was all I could do at the time, I tried to keep busy. I was lucky that I had my iPod and my busy box. As I’ve said many times, I don’t have idle hands, so I had brought a box in my carry on that contained tools for embroidery, crochet, and drawing. In the stretch of 7 hours I spent on that floor, I went through them all. I also just lay there and tried not to go to sleep. That was the worst part, being so tired and not feeling comfortable going to sleep. I felt that way partly because I was alone and didn’t want anyone to steal my purse while I was sleeping and partly because I waved at some random guy without thinking (Shut up, I’m friendly) and he kept walking by and staring at me. I didn’t want to wake up later and find that guy spooning me. It was an uphill battle, but I only dozed and jerked awake, never fell fully asleep. As I was lying against a concrete wall that seemed to be sucking the cold out of the air outside, I was freezing. I already had on my jacket, and unless I wanted to try and crochet myself a blanket, I was boned. Well, I thought I was. I had been eyeing this jacket that was on one of the chairs not far away from myself since I sat down. Since I watched it for at least two hours and no one came and got it, I stitched it and covered up my legs with it. I can’t believe I did that, because who knows where that thing had been! I was desperate.

As morning rose and the other passengers started trickling in, I saw some of them with coffee. Ah, coffee, sweet caffeine. I finally got up to stretch my cramped body and try to find the source of the coffee. I found it in one of the central food courts at a Starbucks that had opened. It was blissful. Armed with all of my baggage, a scone and a macchiato, I went back to my coveted corner and indulged in my breakfast. At this point, a lot of other people began to show up for the flight. I was terribly afraid that I would not get on the flight for a while. Some of the complainers of the night before came back and I swear, a good night’s sleep hadn’t helped any of them. There was one specific lady who was really irritating. She was saying nasty things about the situation and laughing like she was only kidding, but no one bought it. She wouldn’t shut up! We finally got ready to board and they let me on! Woo-HOO!

The flight was unremarkable in the sense that nothing bad happened. I made it to Ft. Lauderdale and called Steve to let him know I was there and on my way to get my luggage. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The joke was on me.
Apparently, the airline had lost my bag. LOST MY BAG!!!!!!! It was nowhere to be found. Oh, and I looked. The baggage claim area was packed with suitcases that had made it to this destination before their owners. Yet in this mélange of bags, mine was not there. I arrived at 9:45 am, and I looked until about 12:00 noon. I was thisclose to really losing my cool at this point. After all I had been through, I had finally reached my limit. One lady I didn’t know saw me on the verge of a freak out and helped me look, but to no avail. The kindness of that stranger calmed me enough to go over to the baggage claim office and file a report. Probably the only other reason I didn’t completely lose my composure was that the poor guy behind the counter looked chewed up and spit out, so I had pity on him. I had to leave that airport without my clothes, without my toothpaste and almost without my dignity. I finally just gave up my search and went outside to catch the shuttle service to Miami. It wasn’t a van as I had thought, but a very plush town car. I was stuffed in between two other ladies and we set off. The driver dropped off both of the other passengers and then we set off to the medical district. He spent the whole drive over there complaining that black people never tipped him. The dude was Cuban, so it struck me as funny that a man who was probably in our country illegally had the nerve to be racist. He did tell me a funny story about a professional basketball player he had once taken to a palatial estate in Miami. He said the man was a well-dressed black man who was extremely rude to him and snapped at him when the driver tried to be nice to him. When he, and his expensive luggage, were dropped off at this huge house, the passenger stiffed him on the tip. When he got back to his station, the driver told his co-workers about what had happened, and so they looked to see who his passenger was and they all said he was notorious for not tipping and being rude. As he put it, they all call the basketball player “Scotty Pippin-No Tippin’.”

Mr. Cuban car driver wasn’t familiar with the medical area so it took us a few minutes to find the address that Sara’s mom had given me. He dropped me and my luggage off, and I walked inside. I walked inside and found out that I was in the wrong hospital. Oy Vey.
So I set off to find the right hospital and walked the streets of Miami for a good 1/2 an hour before I found the right one. It was only later that I found out that I was only a five minute walk away from where I was supposed to be. I finally found Gail, Sara’s mom, and she took me upstairs to see Sara. Since Sara had no clue I was coming, she asked her mom where she had been and Gail told her there was a delivery and she waved me in.

I can honestly say Sara was surprised. She saw me, blinked and said “HOLY (expletive deleted)!” It was totally worth everything that had happened to see her face. We talked and all of us walked over to the Dunkin Donuts to get a iced coffee before Gail and I returned to the Transplant House to sleep. There are few times in my life where I have slept as deeply as I did that night.

I had made it to Miami, I saw my friend, and all was right with the world.

SATURDAY March 17th: Huntsville and Charlotte Airports.

Before I begin, I would just like to say, U.S. Airlines sucks.
I wish that I could write "U.S. Airlines Sucks" in every known language so that anyone around the world who looked up that airline would find this page and read about my adventure so they could run screaming in the other direction.

The most accepted definition of Murphy's Law is "If it can go wrong, it will go wrong." Kudos to this Murphy guy for hitting that nail on the head.

It was obvious early on that something was going to go wrong. I should have realized that my traveling experience wasn't going to go well when they all but gave me a cavity search at the security gate. You think I'm kidding, don't you?

Steve dropped me off in the line into the security area. We said our goodbyes and I proceeded to remove the 1 quart plastic bag with the few toiletries that I packed in my carry on (none over 3 ounces, of course) from my bag, remove my shoes, remove my jacket and placed everything into the plastic bin so that it could be x-rayed. As I walked through the metal detector, I set it off. The security lady made me take off both my belt and my watch, which enabled me to get through the detector without setting it off again. As I got to the end of the conveyor belt though, I realized that none of my stuff had come through yet. So there I was, standing there holding my pants up, shoeless, and feeling slightly vulnerable. I stood there thinking that they would pass my things over to me, but no. They had taken my things to a separate table and pulled out the little sniffer wand thing and proceeded to wave it over my shoes. The security guard asked what I did for a living, and I thought that she was asking as a bit of small talk, so I told her I was a graphic artist. Apparently that wasn't the right kind of answer because she then turned to me and said "So you wouldn't work with chemicals or anything, right?"

Oh, Crap.

I told her that I did occasionally use cleaners and stuff and I asked her what she found on my shoes. She named some complicated chemical that I had never heard of and then told me she was then going to search my bag. She searched through it and apparently didn't find anything dangerous. By this point, my watch, belt and shoes had been returned and I was in the process of redressing when she asked me to come there. I stood up, my belt literally half on and hanging out of my belt loops, and she said "Spread 'em." Whahuh? So, I held out my arms and she PATTED ME DOWN. Patted me down, people! I was too confused to object, so I submitted to the patting. Now, either she didn't feel anything concealed on my person, or she figured that anyone who is going to giggle while getting searched can't be all dangerous (shut up, I'm ticklish) because she then smiled and said I could go on. I had literally been inside the gate for 5 minutes and I had already been suspected of building bombs and concealing weapons. Nice. Once I got my things together, though, I went on to my terminal.

My flight was originally supposed to leave at 4:10 pm, but the nice computer lady from Orbitz called me and told me that the flight had been delayed. Was that going to affect my connecting flight? She said no. So I sat in the terminal for what seemed like five days as the flight times kept getting changed and pushed back over and over. It happened often enough to where I had to change my ring tone on my cell phone, because the "Super Mario Brother's" theme song was starting to get embarrassing. I met a nice Mormon woman who was traveling out to Utah to meet her Internet boyfriend for the first time and a spastic diabetic lady who kept reminding us that she was diabetic. Soon, though, I just sat there and listened to my iPod until they FINALLY called us for our flight. It was about 6:45 pm or so before we actually took off, and we arrived in Charlotte, NC at 8:30 EST. Well, I take that back, we actually probably landed at 8:00, but I think we taxied up the runway for another 1/2 hour. Once we got inside, I ran to the monitors that tell you if your flight is on time or not. Apparently, my connecting flight had been postponed as well, so I had three minutes or so to make it to my gate. So I ran.

Now, as you all know, I don't run. You could place Johnny Depp at the far end of the airport sporting a chocolate thong, and all you'd normally get out of me is a swift mosey. However, because I didn't want to cause trouble with my plans, I ran. I ran like OJ Simpson in that old commercial. Might I just add that Charlotte is a freaking large airport. By the time I found my terminal, there was no one there except the lady at the counter. I asked, in between gasping breaths and panting, if I was too late. Well, the plane had just left.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The lady was Russian, or Eastern European, and had an accent I could barely understand, so it took me a couple of minutes to understand what she meant. When I asked her if there was another flight, she said that the computers were down and she couldn't tell me anything. I smiled, while silently plotting her death, and went back to the monitors to find another gate leaving for Ft. Lauderdale.

I finally found one and once again ran across the world to get to it. I finally got there and I stood in a line that rapidly got longer and longer. It was already three people across and deep enough so that I wasn't even in the terminal, but out in the walkway between them. The Zoloft had kicked in, so I wasn't freaking out, but everyone else was. Apparently the planes from Buffalo, NY wouldn't be able to make their original connections, so everyone was routed to Charlotte, NC. I heard more than one person say that the folks in Buffalo had told them that they were sure to get a flight out of Charlotte, but that was not true! I found out later that there were more than 100,000 U.S. Airline passengers across the country that got stranded because of the weather in New England. I was one of them. The line didn't move for three hours. Three. Hours. No, I don't think you understand. THREE. HOURS. The line didn't move an inch.

While standing in this line I met a very nice family from Canada (they really do say "eh") and I also got to hear a lot of people complain. I felt bad for most of them because they were supposed to have been in Ft. Lauderdale to go on cruises and things like that. The people in my line all started saying what they were missing by being stuck in the line. In fact, they really started getting on my nerves. I heard "I'm supposed to be in Florida to catch my ship!" so many times that I finally said "Well, I have a friend who just had a transplant and is very sick. I'm trying to get down there to see her." There was a collective "oooooooh" and everyone shut up for a while. I'm not proud that I had to use Sara's condition to my advantage, but at least it worked.

The line finally started to move and after about 20 minutes, I got to the counter to hear the lady say "I'm sorry, but all of our stand by spots have been taken. We can't fit you on the list." Well, it was either scream and rip out her hair, or deal. I chose to deal. I finally got her to tell me the next flight leaving for Ft. Lauderdale, and that just so happened to be at 7:45 the next morning. Wow. So I walked off to find the terminal where it would leave from and get on the stand by list. Granted, I could have had that lady put me on the list, but I wasn't quite sure I still wouldn't jump across the counter and go nuts on her.

At the new line, I only had to wait for a few minutes while one very irate passenger accused the poor customer service lady of lying to him and then I was placed on the stand by list. At this point, I was exhausted, I felt dirty, and I was hungry. Unfortunately, there were no hotels available and none of the little shops were open anymore. I had no place else to go except over into the corner of the terminal, where I pretty much curled up in the fetal position and lay in the floor shivering. It was about midnight in the rapidly emptying Charlotte airport, and I was alone.

PROLOGUE

I'm exhausted and missing more than half of my underwear.

Yeah, I know. That's a heck of a way to begin an entry on my blog, but it's true.

You'd think that with an opening like that, I must have had a wild start to my spring break, but I assure you, it isn't what you think.

For those of you who didn't already know, I just returned yesterday from a trip to Miami to visit my friend Sara, who is recovering from her multi-visceral transplant. I probably would have mentioned my trip before now, but we were keeping it a surprise. I'm really quite proud of the fact that I didn't slip up and say anything, because I am notorious for spilling secrets on accident. Since Sara reads this (Hey, Sara!), I had to constantly remind myself not to allude to the fact that I was going to be flying down to see her! So, if you've wondered where I've been for the past few days, I've been down in South Florida, partying with the locals! : )

I want to tell you about my trip, which involves adventure, intrigue, lust, anger, and a level of bad luck that would have caused most people to jump off of the roof. I want to tell you, and I will, but I still have a bad case of jet lag and I don't seem to be able to stay awake for long periods of time. Over the next day or so, I will tell you my story.

Stay Tuned.

Off Leash, a blog for those of us who want to know what dogs are thinking.

Plus, it's pretty frakin' funny!

I'd like to formally apologize to my neighbors for the language their children no doubt picked up from me today. I'm sure that they heard the things I said, even through the walls of my bedroom, and I hope that with in-depth therapy, those phrases will be wiped from their impressionable little minds in no time.

See, what happened was, I bought a new pair of buddy shoes, you know...pseudo-Keds. Those ubiquitous canvas low toppers that last about a summer before the upper part rips freely from the sole. Wal-Mart and Target are great places to get these.

But I digress.

I bought these shoes because I needed some comfortable, slip-on sneakers that I could wear to work. Well, one thing I forgot about buddy shoes is the fact that when one has been wearing boots pretty much all winter, plus the fact that your feet are all tender and soft from not being exposed to the elements, the heels of these fraking shoes will eat the back of your feet alive if you don't wear socks with them before they are broken in. Well, guess what I did. Indeed, I -sockless and clueless- wore these cute little shoes to work and school today. Only, about two ours in, I realized that my heels were flaming balls of agony. No problem, I'll just pop over to Wal-Mart and get some kind of bandage or cushion thingie to help me out.

Well, I can't find exactly what I'm looking for, but I found this stuff called Mole-Skin, which appeared to be a soft, adhesive stuff used for the problem that I was having. So I get to work, and slap some of this stuff on both my heels and the inside backs of my shoes! Brilliant! Worked like a charm! However, I still had sore feet because of the blister and friction burns on my heels from earlier. When I came home and removed the shoes, I went to remove the Mole-Skin that was plastered over my heels. My left foot was fine. I had one blister, but I had bandaged it and then put the other stuff over that. My right foot, however, was another story. As I pulled on the adhesive, I found that it wouldn't come off. Plus, it hurt. It hurt a lot. So I tried pulling in the opposite direction. Still, it hurt. So I braced myself and did the patented "Rip-Off-The-Band Aid" move. Baaaaaaaaaaaaaad Mistake. Apparently, at some point between when I had put the Mole-Skin on my heel and when I got home, two new blisters formed underneath. When I ripped it off, I also ripped off two largish pieces of my own flesh in the process. I haven't heard things like that ever come out of my mouth, ever.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go get into the fetal position in the living room and whine over my mangled feet.

I don't understand art.

OK, that's probably the last thing I need to admit after studying it in one form or another the past 4 years, but I'm convinced it's true.

Oh, I've learned how to BS fairly convincingly about negative space and use of color, and lighting and all of that happy trash, but I'm going to be honest. A lot of this stuff means nada to me.

I came upon this realization during art shows for two of my classmates. Seniors who are studio art majors who don't study graphic design are required to have a gallery showing in the little renovated chapel on our campus. I've been getting the invitations almost every two weeks since I started school. Some of the people I know, but most of them I don't. I'll be honest, I don't normally go to these things because I haven't had time or I forget about them, but very recently I was straight out asked if I was going by the girl who's art was on display. What could I say? I had some time before going back to work, and I didn't think it would be polite to tell her I didn't want to, so I went.

First off, let me say, the girl is a very talented painter. Her pictures were very well done and she really has a style of her own that could probably make her a celebrated artist someday. Next, let me say, the paintings were almost all nudes of herself. Nudes of herself before, during and after her pregnancy. NUDES! OF! HER! My classmate! My classmate who I sit across from twice a week! I couldn't even run screaming or stabbing my eyes out because that would have been rude! There was nothing I could do but make the round of the gallery, leave a comment in her book, and leave as quickly as possible.

Look, I've gotten over my initial freaking-out over seeing naked people in art. In fact, sometimes I'll be looking at a book of photographs or drawings of nudes and it takes me a few minutes to realize that I'm even looking at a naked person unless someone else mentions it. However, the nudes in the books or whatever are not people who I have to interact with on a fairly regular basis. I like to know people better before I see them naked. It's just the way I roll.

OK, same setting, two weeks later. The same girl asked if I was going to see the new gallery exhibit, which happened to belong to her boyfriend or husband...don't know which because she just said that he was the father of her son. Anywho, once again, I had no reason to say no, so went. Thankfully, there were no nudes or semi-nudes of this guy who I've had a couple of classes with. In fact, I couldn't tell you upon pain of death what the hell that guy had painted. The paintings all had titles, of course, but the images looked like he had painted something on the canvas and then got tired of it and rubbed his hands through it. All 8 canvases were a mixture of the same three colors in the same smudged way. I don't think I'm explaining this right. Let me help you out. You remember when you were a kid and someone gave you a pot of finger paint? You plopped out a clump of paint and smeared it onto your paper until you had a layer of one color? Then you ran your fingers through it and scraped the paint away to make pictures? That is what it was like. There were also bronze sculptures of heads that looked partially eaten and a giant baby bottle nipple made of wood. Oh, and some kind of tangle of ropes in the center of the room with wooden arms hanging in the middle. Wei-rd.

Maybe I'm just not smart or cultured enough to get this stuff, I don't know. If I wasn't so convinced that everyone else who sees this stuff also BS's about negative space and stuff, I'd probably think that my whole college experience was a waste.

WEEKEND UPDATE!

I'm back with my weekend update! You know you're glad.

FRIDAY: After work on Friday, Steve and I had dinner with some of our friends that night. Well, some of our friends and two of our co-workers that I don't normally talk to that often. Turns out they were a lot of fun. We went to the Chili's not far from our house because it was close to the theater where some of them were going to see "300". I demurred on the movie because, quite honestly, I didn't care to see it. One semester of Greek history isn't enough to get me hyped over a movie about the battle of Thermopylae. However, the dinner was fun. Chili's crammed 6 full grown adult people into a table that was only meant to comfortably seat four, but they do that a lot. :P After everyone else left for the theater, I felt as though I needed some ice cream, so I went to Cold Stone and was able to find a non-chocolate kind that was good. As I stood there waiting for the disgusted looking ice cream person to mix it up, I looked behind me where some teenagers were dancing and being loud. Does it make me old to wish that they would just be quiet? I remember being that age, so I'm sure I have acted the same way at times, but bleh. Annoying. Anyways, I made it home with my ice cream in tow and enjoyed the last little part of my day by watching Scrubs. I love that show.

SATURDAY: I woke up earlier than I wanted to, but for a good reason. Steve and I were going to be helping Josh move out of his house that day. Yes, I know. He had only lived there for a little over a year, and his house was so cute! However, when you become a priest, you have to take all of those lovely little vows, and poverty is one of them. He sold his house in 11 days, which is awesome, and had to be out of there by that day. When we showed up, Josh's mom's husband and friends had him almost completely moved out. We all felt like we were in the way, but Shannon and I did end up packing his kitchen up for him. Steve and I had decided to buy Josh's dining room furniture to help him out (he has to pay off his debts before he goes to seminary) and also to replace our own old table and stuff. My parents gave Steve and I their old dining room table and chairs, which was about 33 years old, and it was all broke down. However, even though I already had set this up with Josh, he said that he sold it to the man who was buying his house! I was mad! Well, while we were there, the new owner tried to renege on his offer and not pay him for it in return for not making Josh fix two little problems he had seen with the house, but still get the furniture. Josh said no, so he offered it back to Steve and I. At that point I had decided that it was all for the best if I didn't buy it, and when I told Josh that, he got this wild look in his eyes. Apparently he is freaking out about paying off his bills, so I told him we'd get it after all. Yikes. After we had gotten everything out, Josh and I wallered on the living room carpet one more time. We made carpet angels. It was sad. :( Josh won't actually leave for another 5 months, but I'm already starting to miss him. But hey, I get to be buddies with a priest, so that's kind of cool, right? My little, pet Josh is growing up so fast! Once we left Madison, we ended the day with dinner at Cracker Barrel with everyone sans Josh. It was chicken and rice night after-all.

SUNDAY: First off, let me say, I hate the spring forward part of daylight savings time. I don't mind the extra daylight we supposedly get, but I hate losing that hour. Steve and I woke up with a not-enough-sleep hangover, plus we didn't wake up on time to ride to church together. Steve had to leave for orchestra practice and I drug myself around in an attempt to get ready. I was a little late, but I made it! My friend Christie brought her baby to church for the first time, and she is a cutie! I didn't hold her, and Christie (who made me swear I'd get over my fear and hold her anyway) didn't mind. She has those First-Time-Mom fears of letting Lily out of her sight. Color me relieved. I'll hold her when she has more bones in her head. :) After church, Steve got an e-mail with a problem at work, so I traveled on my own to have lunch with the family. When I got home, I fell asleep again (my allergies are killing me!) and then finally got up in time to do my take home exam for theater history. Fun Stuff.

Oh! I finally got to talk to my friend Sara this morning after I don't know how long! Well, talk may not be the word, but I chatted with her until she got called away. At least I think she got called away. She stopped talking to me, anyways. She told me that she may have to have another whole graft again because some of her new parts aren't working! That really sucks, but I'm still praying for a miracle, so I know it isn't completely for sure yet. I just hope she heals soon and can come home again so I can see her. : ) Miami is too far away.

Also, did you know that a self cleaning oven really self cleans? Steve had made a pizza some time ago and oil or something had dripped onto the bottom of the stove. When I tried to make biscuits the other day, the fire alarm went off and I had to open almost all of the windows and the door on that end of the house! So, for the first time, I set the thing on "Clean". I expected that whatever was on the bottom of the oven would burn off and I would have to clean out the ashes. However, when I went back and opened it up, the stuff on the bottom was GONE! Completely disintegrated! I'm pretty sure that if I had been able to see inside, little elves or something were busily cleaning all of that goo away. Something tells me that I shouldn't be so amazed by this, but I can't help it.

I need your help.

First off, I may not know every one of you who stumble upon my blog, but I do know that several wonderful people take time out of their lives to check up on me and a regular to semi-regular basis. For that, I thank you and sincerely hope you eventually get a productive hobby. ; ) Just kidding!

Because I know that someone is out there reading this, I felt sure that if I gave this request, then at least one or two of you might do something for me. At this point, I can't be really specific with what I'm going to do, because it's supposed to be on the DL, but I promise it is nothing illegal or wrong, so just bear with me.

I need you to pray for me. Not only pray for me, but for a group of people that I'm very close to. I've been asked to help someone, and while I am perfectly capable of helping them physically, emotionally I'm afraid I may be a little weak. Most people think that I am made of much stronger stuff than I really am. I'm glad that they think this, because I want them to feel that they can come to me and hand off a considerable chunk of their burden so that I can help them carry it. However, sometimes I'm afraid that I can't carry it very long or very far, and that is why I need your prayers this time. I want to help, and I'm going to try, but I'm afraid that I will be completely ineffective when I try. It's important that I stay strong and solid, because I want to be able to take a bigger load on my shoulders than I have before and I'm just afraid I won't be able to do it. So please, if you pray, say a prayer for me and my friends. I'll have to ask that it just be considered an unspoken request, but I'll be able to explain more as time goes on.

Thanks!

I've made a desicion.

I recently got some information about my friend, Sara, who is the girl who had the multi-visceral transplant. She keeps going back and forth between getting better, getting worse, two steps forward, one step back. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out anything that I could do to help her, but because she is down in Miami and I am up in Huntsvegas, I'm really not that useful. However, I still feel as though I need to do something.

Although I realize this is probably the most useless gesture ever, I have decided that I am giving up chocolate until she gets out of the hospital. Granted, this isn't going to help her, but she has lost out on so much that I don't feel right being able to do whatever I want. She has been one of my best friends since 7th grade, and if I can't be useful directly, I want to at least do something.

You probably think I'm being awfully self righteous to tell you all this plan. After all, sacrifices shouldn't be advertised, right? Well, fear not, I am not telling you this for your admiration. I'm telling you this because I need your help. Since I decided to do this, I have caught myself several times almost eating chocolate. I didn't realize how ingraned it was in myself until I tried denying it. So, if you see me about to eat chocolate: Stop Me. Seriously.

I thank you in advance.

Guess what I got today?!

My cap, gown, and tassel! I also found out that unless I do some major screwing up grade wise, I'm going to graduate cum laude.

So...close...

It's going to be all I can do not to sleep in my regalia.

I regret to announce that there will not be a WEEKEND UPDATE this week due to circumstances that have overshadowed all other events during the weekend, and I don't feel they are appropriate to recount in this space.

Because my high red threat level state of pissed off has just very recently settled into a low grade pale yellow annoyance, I feel that by rehashing what happened, I run the risk of getting pissed off all over again. No one wants that to happen.

I will say this one thing, though. It is quite fortunate that I placed myself in a position where I was away from Steve for almost the entire day Sunday, because I'm pretty sure that had I not had time to think of how to handle myself with restraint, I might have flown at him with a wrath very seldom seen outside of Quintin Tarantino movies. As it stands now, however, I think he will be safe.

That is all.

It's official.

I like dogs more than people.

I went to Pet'sMart earlier today because they were having an adoption event and the first thing I did was fall madly in love with not one, not two, not even three or four, but FIVE dogs. I called Steve to tell him about it, and he shut me down with extreme prejudice. I realized as I pried myself away from those fuzzy babies that I would probably be less bothered by leaving Steve in one of those kennels than I was leaving the dogs behind.

No offence, Steve!

!

I can't believe that I forgot to tell you guys what I did yesterday!

I had an exam yesterday that I was worried about. The exam was set for 9:35 a.m. and was going to be a pain because it consisted of one essay question and that was all.

So I work as fast as I could to get the info I would need to take into the exam with me and by the time it was ready to go, I realized I had locked my keys in the car. ACK! So I had to call Steve and have him come by and open it for me. When I got outside to wait on him to arrive, I found that my car was making a strange sound.

Apparently my car was not only locked with the keys still in the ignition, but the car was still RUNNING! Sweet banana mousse with walnuts! How can a person get out of a car while it's still running and not even notice? Geez.

I actually made it to the exam, but I'm pretty sure I bombed it so bad that there were civilian casualties.

Later that day I came home with a bad headache because of my allergies (Hi, spring!) and that headache made me nauseated really badly. A while back, a doctor had prescribed me a very powerful anti emetic/allergy medicine and that was the first thing I thought about taking. Well, that pill helped me feel better, but it made me VERY floopy. I'd like to apologize to Brian for what I'm sure was a very badly typed IM conversation, and to Steve for having to put me to bed.

How does someone have a Monday on a Thursday?

Bleh.

Note to self. Prescription allergy medicine is evil.

I just saw a commercial for a new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie! Whahuh?

I didn't think those things still existed, much less were still popular enough to make a movie about them.

It made me think of my very first date. Yes, my first date was to see TMNT 3 and then we went to Taco Bell for dinner. I was 16 years old, and the guy I was with was 18. He was 18 and he took me to see a Ninja Turtle's movie. So funny. It was also the first time anyone ever kissed me. Oh, I had boyfriends before that, but they apparently found me too frightening to kiss! Anyways... the commercial just make me a little nostalgic, I guess.

So I was 16 when I kissed someone for the first time and about 25 the last time. Well, I had a good run, right? :)

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) Why does NO ONE in this town use their blinkers? You can't say it's just not done in the south, because I've always lived down here and I don't remember it being a problem until just the past few years. Grrrr.

2) I think I'm going to have Steve's DNA tested to see if he's the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby. You know, just in case. Yuck. Seems that she had access to more DNA than a crime lab. I also wish that they would just bury her and get it over with. I bet there was less news coverage about the JFK murder. Jeez.

3) I got my letter letting me know I can order my cap and gown next week! EEEEEEEEEEEEE! I also got an invitation to join the Delta Epsilon Iota academic honor society. I think I'll join, just so I can get the tassels for graduation. I'm already a (lapsed) member of the Kappa Something Something honor society, but I didn't go and get my tassel or pin. I paid for the darn things, you'd think they could have mailed them to me! :P At any rate, looks like I never had to be a bowhead to get a few Greek letters! Woo-Hoo!

4) We are having our house reassessed next week for refinancing and I'm supposed to be cleaning. I've been trying to pick up my office, but I had no idea how much of a mess it really was. Seriously, I found a whole stash of screen prints I did three years ago. I know for a fact I've cleaned up my office since then, but I don't remember seeing these things. Weird. On a nicer note...who wants some screen prints?

5) That fathead friend of mine who can't seem to have both a girlfriend and girls who are friends, has struck again. "If I just wasn't a lady, what wouldn't I tell that varmint?!" I don't know why I put up with people like this! If we hadn't been friends since junior high, I'd probably punch him in the neck and forget about him. However, it is the length of our friendship that gives me pause. Well, that, and I really like his parents. I think if I were to assault him, they would frown on that.

6) I had the weirdest dream the other night. I dreamed I was serving cake at a wedding. I don't know who's wedding it was, because I never saw the bride or groom. In fact, I was watching myself serve the cake, which was also weird. Anyways, I dreamed I was serving the cake, and then I took the big silver knife and stabbed myself in the chest and cut out my own heart, but I smiled the whole time I was doing it. Then I laid it, my heart, on the table and continued serving cake with a smile on my face and a bloody mess on my dress. No one seemed to notice that every piece of cake I served had blood on it from the knife. It was kind of gross. I'm not quite sure if I want to know what that dream says about me, you know?

7) My friend really liked the napkins that I gave him for a wedding gift. He seemed a little surprised that I would go to the trouble to do it. He kept saying thank you and looking embarrassed. I wasn't aware that napkins could do that to anyone. Good thing I didn't get them anything tacky. His head might have exploded. ; )

I should really probably finish cleaning. GROAN.

Oh! Gratuitous Picture!
Now THAT was a long time ago.
Tawney Kittain hasn't got anything on me! Heeheehee.

WEEKEND UPDATE!

Yes, my preciouses, it's that time again. Time to read about my generally uneventful, yet oddly interesting, weekend. You might want to pause here and go to the bathroom before you start reading. I don't want a cleaning bill on my hands.

FRIDAY: Friday started off late for me. I couldn't make myself wake up. I haven't been sleeping well and if I wake up in the middle of the night for any significant length of time and then go back to sleep, I feel as if I haven't slept at all. I knew I'd be late for work, so I took my lunch hour from 8-9 that morning so that I wouldn't get in trouble. My boss is generally cool with things like that, so no harm-no foul. After work I had decided to run some errands. I have been embroidering some napkins for a friend who is getting married and I had to go and buy another one because I didn't have enough. I found out this morning that I STILL didn't make enough, but I'll have to give them an IOU because their wedding is this weekend and I don't have time to make 3 more before then. I also went to Fresh Market to spend a gift certificate that Mr. Lee got me for my birthday. I love going there, but I always feel so gauche because the clientele is generally that of the yuppie-kind. I don't exactly fit that description, you know. So I got some things, looked at other things, and was too embarrassed to ask for help at the deli counter. I finally got what I wanted and left out of there. Even though I really like the store, there is always that sense of relief when I leave. I always feel like the soccermoms and gay couples who I always see in there are thinking "INTERLOPER!" when I walk by.

Saturday was, as usual, less productive than I had hoped. I wasn't feeling well, so I was slow to do the stuff that needed to be done. I did manage to get some things finished, but then I got a bad headache and had to lie down for a while. I think I slept, but I can't be certain. That has been happening to be a lot lately. I'll fall into an ill timed half doze that can last for a few minutes to about an hour. Weird. Anyways, it was supposed to storm that day, so I kept a lookout to make sure that I got the dogs in before that happened. I was playing the hokey-pokey with them all day, but they had a good sense of humor about it. Also, they got extra treats, so I know that they didn't mind. :) While I was eating lunch, I decided to get a pay-per-view movie. For some reason, I decided that "Saw III" would be perfect lunch time entertainment. I thought the other two movies were pretty good, so I didn't think I would have a problem with this one. Oops. Now, I have a pretty strong stomach for horror movies, but this one was gross. There were literally scenes that I couldn't watch at all, and that is not normal for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not so blase about torture that I can watch it with no problem, but this movie was painful. I had to leave the room and just listen to a lot of it, but I made myself watch as much as I could since I bought it. *Shudder* By that point, Steve was home and we decided to watch another movie. It had started to thunder and lightening, so he flipped off the lights and a bunch of our electrical stuff and we watched the movie on his laptop while sitting in the dark. The movie he had picked was "Snakes on a Plane." I knew that the movie had been deemed awfully silly, even with all of the hype, but I thought we might as well watch it anyways. I'm not going to lie and say the movie was great, but it was definitely entertaining! It gave me the crawlies something terrible, but it was funny and made me jump, which I like. My one big problem was my own fear of flying and being trapped inside somewhere made the movie all the more creepy, but I thought it was fun. There is some bad language and some nudity that seemed gratuitous, but not nearly as much as I thought would be on there. I'm just glad we didn't see this movie in a theater. Steve doesn't like it when people hear him scream like a girl. :)

Sunday was the norm. Church and My parents house for lunch. Our morning service was a little different because our church is having a revival this week, so the visiting preacher did the sermon. I mean no disrespect to him, because I'm sure he's a wonderful person and all, but I didn't like the way he kept trying to get people to say "Amen" during his sermon. Seems to me that if people want to say it, they will, and not because the preacher stops what he's saying and gives them a cue. Other than that, he certainly made the story of the prodigal son interesting. Steve had to decline going to my parent's house with me that afternoon, so I drove out to Athens alone. We had a good lunch and I enjoyed visiting with my family. However, I still wasn't feeling well and I fell asleep. I slept longer than I wanted to and had to drive home in a semi-daze. I was lucid enough not to cause an accident, but I felt like I had been drug behind the car all of the way home. I stayed home from evening service to work on some school stuff, and I also watched the Oscars for a while. I'd love to go to the Oscars if for no other reason than I would get to dress up. However, I'd probably wind up listening to my iPod during the actual ceremony because too much rear kissing makes me throw up in my mouth a little. However, I thought Ellen D. did a good job as the host.

Exciting, no?

So, I got an ego boost from Ed yesterday morning. Sort of, but not really.

Walking into work, he caught up with me in the parking lot and told me that he had a funny moment in his car before he got out. He said he was sitting there and he saw this girl walking towards the building and thought "Hey, she's pretty cute." Then he laughed and said "But then I thought, oh, that's just Kelly. Pffffft."

I can't believe he pfffft-ed me!

I can't say I was completely insulted. I mean, if I hadn't of been me, he would have thought I was cute. That's got to be worth something, right?

I didn't know what to say, so I just readjusted my hump and went on my way.

Thanks, Ed. And the horse you rode in on. Oh, and your mom, too.