warm 'n fuzzy - or not?

It's sleeting outside, the ground is covered in ice, and I'm drinking a chocolate Steak 'n Shake milkshake. Yum.

If work would let us out early, this'd be a pretty good day.

da' butt

Get in your car on a drizzly, unseasonably warm winter evening. Start the fifteen minute drive home in darkness. The CD in the CD player isn't going to cut it - you're not in the mood. Turn on the radio, though that never seems to cut it either, and quickly flip through the four of the six preset stations that actually have music. Push the last button. You're sure you'll end up having to go back to the CD, but surprisingly, a new song is just starting out on the station claiming to play only 'happy' songs - songs to make you move.

You're not sure what it is, but it seems familiar. It's connecting with some very distant memory buried far back in your head. Groove along to the beat. You hear the lyrics, but you don't recognize them. That's not unusual - you have a very bad memory for these things. Suddenly the chorus kicks in and you recognize it instantly. Sing along. Loudly.

Doin' the butt. Hey pretty, pretty
When you get that notion, put your backfield in motion, hey
Doin' the butt. Hey sexy, sexy
Ain't nothing wrong, if you wanna do the butt all night long

Suddenly you're back in junior high. Remember hating junior high, but recognize that there were some good things to come from that time period. It may even be that long since you've heard this song. Move as much as possible in the car. Sing at the top of your lungs. Be thankful for the darkness. The song ends just as you pull into the driveway. You're giggling like a schoolgirl, trying to remember the last time a song made you that happy and excited. Wonder why it's not played more.

Later that night you decide to blog about it the next day when you should be working. Hope to pass this joy along to others.

quoth the tiger...NEVERMORE!

We went to the old stomping grounds this weekend to watch the Mizzou Tigers plow all over the icky KU Jayhawks 42 to 17. It's always great to see the Tigers beat the Jayhawks in any sport. The best t-shirt we saw was one that said 'KU Sucks' on the front, 'And Swallows' on the back. Wrong, but good.

We went to the game with friends we haven't seen in a while. We all used to go to games together after graduation at least once a year, but it's dwindled a bit since then. It was a blast seeing everyone. How they drank from 9AM until that evening blows my mind. They're a very spirited group, and always make games interesting. We even got on the jumbotron.

We also took a trip down memory lane...better known as Wilson Avenue. Both Q and I lived there for a time during college. Wilson Avenue is part of East Campus - keg party central (not affiliated with any frats/sororities, other than being flanked by them on College Avenue). There are so very many memories there. So much fun, debauchery, and even missed opportunities. A lifetime's worth. The one thing that really gets me every time we go down Wilson is the absence of the house of some very good friends. It was plowed a few years back to make room for the expansion of one of the fraternities. Shorty's boyfriend lived there, as well as three other guys, guys we knew since the second semester of our freshman year, guys who we were close to and remained inextricably linked to throughout the rest of our college years. These memories always involve Shorty of course, as well as memories of Matt, who was killed by a drunk driver. There was a spell when we were there more than at our own place. It was a place I walked by every single day; a place where friends were met, feelings were acted on, way too much Killian's Red was drank.

That house was such a special place, and knowing I'll never see it again is a difficult thing to face. At least the rest of the street is still standing, though probably a little worse for the wear. My old house is there, probably still with a cicada caulked to the living room window. I guess it added a little reality to a dark, cozy room, one wall coated with a pretty good rendition of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'. We didn't get to see any of the new residents at 1513, but I hope they're as rowdy and goofy as we were. I hope they're having the time of their lives.

all growed up

We finally found some furniture we like this weekend and bought it. I feel like such an adult! Until now we've had horribly mismatched, ripped, hand-me-downs, some of it leftover from college. Scary. The only bad part is we have to wait until December 16 to get it. Dumb out-of-stock sofa! If you haven't been to Ashley Furniture, I highly recommend it. The salespeople aren't too sharky, the prices are extremely reasonable, and you don't have to negotiate a price (Q and I are the worst at that). Believe me - after restricting ourselves to Weekends Only, this place seemed palatial. Weekends Only might have some good deals, but the decent sofas are few and far between, and it's so very dirty and dingy. Gross.

Now, if I can only figure some way to keep my claw-happy dog off of it...I can already see I'm going to lose that battle. At least it's sturdy material.

There are colds going around, so watch out. Both bosses are sick, and I've had to sit here listening to them snort, sneeze, and blow snot. Very gross. I escaped the stomach illness, and am thinking that kind of luck doesn't strike twice. All I'm asking for is to be healthy enough to see the Tigers play this weekend and taste the yummy Thanksgiving goodies. And see N8 & MT for dinner on Monday, all the way from Ireland. It's funny how you take friendships for granted until those friends move away. Thank goodness N8 & MT are moving back soon!

so very impressive

Today I noticed someone found my blog by googling 'mother of all poo ratemypoo'. What's even more impressive than the fact that someone actually googled that is that my blog is the only link that shows up. In all of the magnificent world of the internets, only my blog has all of those words linked together.

I could not be more proud.

on hiatus

Well, I'll be out of commission for a few days while my surgeon hacks apart my other foot. And just when I was getting used to wearing heels again...

At least it'll all be over. And I'll be hopped up on vicodin. And I don't have to argue with the clothes Nazi here at work over my tennis shoes because we have a new HR person and she's a friend of mine. Ha! But boy, do I have a funny story about the clothes Nazi. She breeds poodles. Big, ugly, creepy poodles. That's not the funny part. Apparently she found some sort of doggie scooter that allows her to hitch up three of the poodles to a scooter so they can pull her around, aka a dogsled. She takes half days so she can let them pull her around Forest Park. Oh, what I'd do for pictures of that. Told you she was a freak.

pucker up!

I woke my husband up this morning by accident when I uttered 'Oh My God!' after seeing that Amendment 2 passed, and McCaskill won. I was shocked. Shocked! I thought there was no way Missourians would vote for 2. Maybe we're not so backwoods after all.

No, we're just happy-ass backwoods hicks who are okay with cloning...haha!

ahh, politicians...

I was a good girl this past weekend and, amidst all of the wedding hoopla, went to my local library to pick up a voters guide provided by the League of Women Voters of Missouri. I found it before the last election, and it's great. It's nonpartisan, and gives all the necessary information on amendments and propositions, as well as invites all of the candidates to write a bit about their platform. Very cool.

After flipping through it, I realized I already know all there is to know about the issues, and don't have too many choices regarding who to vote for (either running unopposed or might as well be). There is one absolutely hilarious and simultaneously shocking entry, however - Theodis Brown, Sr., running as a Libertarian for St. Louis County Executive. I'll type it out below. It's a must-read.

Name: Theodis Brown, Sr.
Party: Libertarian
Website: col brown googles

Candidate Statement: as incumbent st louis county central committee sgt at arms officer and st Ferdinand township committeeman of st louis county, and a retired state ofc and state investigator retiree who was candidate 2002 for state investigator assoc president, and past candidate for mosers as trustee statewide candidate 1998 as 1st black running from st louis district as black male state employee, who listed who who american law books ongoing from 80s90s, 2006 last edition as sole black paralegal st louis district in legal circles, as retired state employee relation committee sgt at arms from a state agency, a retired kinloch...

That's where it ends. I guess there's a word limit for the statement, and he exceeded it. Ha. I swear, this is exactly how it appears. Letter for lowercase letter.

Just when I was considering the Libertarian party to be a good match for me, this happens. It's times like this when disassociating myself from any party makes the most sense. I mean, come on. I understand people have trouble with grammar. It's okay. Our schools hardly prepare us to have a good working knowledge of the English language. But come on. Find someone who does. We're out there! How can he expect anyone to take him seriously?

Then again, Q says he's voting for him. Maybe it's a good way to get noticed. I don't know.

And by no means is he the only one with grammatical hangups. In fact, we're actually voting on whether to correct a grammatical error in the MO Constitution itself (Amendment 7). We'd be changing one thing - "citizen's" to "citizens' ". It's moving one tiny apostrophe, but essentially changing the meaning of the entire thing. Who messed that one up? Duh. People just can't seem to grasp those darn apostrophes.

Go and get your vote on!

my little cootie is all growed up!

My little sister, Cootie, got married Saturday. I still kind of can't believe it. It's one of those things where you wait for it for so long, then suddenly it's over. I was her maid of honor (or matron of honor - however that works), which I loved. It was so much fun.

It was a very beautiful Catholic ceremony. I myself haven't been to a catholic service in a long while (other than weddings). At her wedding both myself and the best man were up on the altar with the bride and groom, while the other 4 bridesmaids and 4 best men were down in the first pews. It was so strange, but very cool. I only cried once - when Cootie left Dad after walking down the aisle and she was crying. After that we were both okay. Thankfully I had a hankie! I was very glad the best man knew what he was doing. I'd look at him every time something new happened to figure out whether to kneel or stand (Cootie wasn't any help - they didn't know what they were doing either).

After the wedding and pictures we all piled into a rented van to go to Forest Park for more pictures. We scarfed McDonald's double cheeseburgers (yes, I ate one - damn thing was delicious, too) and chicken sandwiches and drank plenty of beer. I, however, was miserable - my hair looked gorgeous (a curly up do), but hurt like hell. It was unbearable by that point. I made it though, though.

We got to Schlafly's Tap Room at 5:30 or so, thankfully, so I could undo my hair. Sweet relief. It ended up looking pretty good in a ponytail with all the curls, but I didn't care - having it down was all that mattered. I was a much happier girl. The rest of the reception went off perfectly, just like the wedding. We drank great beer, ate great food, danced, socialized, and had a blast. I even did a good job reading my toast, which was shocking, as I'm not the greatest public speaker. I had multiple people compliment me on it, and tell me their whole table was crying. And laughing. I didn't cry until the very end, when I looked at Cootie (even though I told her not to look at me for fear of this very thing happening), and she was crying. It worked though.


We had so much fun dancing and laughing at her reception. Above is the room where it was held at the Tap Room - it was lovely. Her man's friends are so nice and great, which makes me happy. I think having tons of awesome friends says so much about a person...not that I needed to know more about her man. He's a wonderful guy, and they are so great together. We had cousins in from Wisconsin, and at the rehearsal dinner, one asked me what kind of guy her man is (they'd never met). I was able to tell him how great he is without reservation. That made me so happy.

I swear, I am so very proud of her. She acted like a lady the whole entire day. She didn't freak out, or lose her nerve, or anything else. She was calm, confident, classy, and absolutely gorgeous. She planned quite a bit of this day, and it all went off perfectly. Totally first class. I guess I still have this image of her from when she was in college, and haven't stopped to notice how much she's grown up. She spent the perfect amount of time socializing, making sure to talk to everyone, the perfect amount dancing and having fun, and was very careful to limit her drinking so she wouldn't be wasted (not that she drinks a lot anyway). I was in awe of her the entire evening. I'm not sure I would have been as responsible and courteous as she was.

Anyway, it's still crazy that my little Cootie is married. I'm so glad we're close. And as much as I think about moving away, it's times like this that I'm glad we all live here in St. Louis. I'd hate to miss my nieces and nephew (and my little sis) growing up. They're so darn cute!

self-realization

Discussions in my writing group got a bit heated last night. We 'almost broke up', as Mustang Betsy jokingly said. I'll admit it though, I was scared for a minute. We can't break up! I value these three individuals so much, each in their own special way. I know I'm not the best writer in the world (yet), but I'd be so far behind where I am now without them.

Anyway, at one point during the discussions I was referred to as 'the middle sister'. Which I am, but in a very odd way. I have two older sisters - by older I mean 11 & 10 years ahead of me. Then there's me, then there's Cootie, who's 2 years younger. So I am a middle sister, but I'm also the older child, in a way. I think I'm definitely a combo of the both. As the older child, I'm competitive, independent, and responsible. As the middle child, I'm a loner, I'm not an over-achiever, I lack drive, I lose focus quickly, I acted out quite a bit, and I'm a born peace keeper.

The group was referring to the peace keeper in me last night. Ever since college, I've been the one to keep both sides calm. Maybe it's because I don't take sides. Or maybe I don't take sides because I want to keep the peace. I don't know. Either way, I despise conflict. It makes me uncomfortable. Even if the other parties are totally okay with it, I feel the urge to step in and make everything okay.

I think this is fascinating. I've realized this need to be the peace keeper exists, but until last night I didn't really think about why. It makes so much sense. Coming from a family of four girls, it's not hard to imagine we often times disagree and get on one another's nerves, especially since we all live in St. Louis. Though sometimes with them I do take sides, I often find myself in the usual position of being the diplomat and negotiator.

Maybe I should have been a counselor, or a policewoman. If the writing career doesn't take off, that is.