two posts in one day.
whoa.
is it the end of the world or something?
no. i'm just feeling the need to ask the cyber-world a question. that question being... wait for it.... wait for it...
WHY oh WHY do text greetings and salutations seem so much more personal when a person's full name is included? we're not just talking first names here. we're talking the whole. entire. name.
as in,
good morning peyton sawyer!
OR
hey brooke davis!
OR
sweet dreams, haley james.
i mean, those sound so much better than,
good morning peyton!
OR
hey brooke!
OR
sweet dreams haley.
(and yes, i just used OTH names. don't even judge me. but we all know those full names are ESPECIALLY good because all of their last names resulted in one of their children's names. i mean, one time it was cute, but after three...can we find another creative outlet, please. sorry for the tangent.)
and so my question for all two of my readers out there is WHY is that? or am i a cray cray because i find it so much more personal and cute? i'm hoping you don't say the latter, but if you do i would understand.
and you're welcome for the two posts in one day. i know how much you love reading this. oh wait...
p.s. sorry for not going by my whole what i learned from who theme these days. i'm kinda over it. although that makes the name of this blog kinda weird. especially since i don't have a husband. but i'm kinda over that too. (both the weird name and lack of husband. ;) ) (and yes, i just used a winky face. again, don't judge.)
Thursday, March 22, 2012
hat hair.
so i nanny for this family once a week.
it is great.
but the greatest thing about it is playing catch with the littlest girl. she is 2. and whenever we play catch, she HAS to have her hat on. it's this navy baseball hat with a pink bow. most adorbs. no hat=no playing catch. it's as simple as that.
also, equally great is learning dance moves from her. probs she can bust a move.
okay, that is all.
it is great.
but the greatest thing about it is playing catch with the littlest girl. she is 2. and whenever we play catch, she HAS to have her hat on. it's this navy baseball hat with a pink bow. most adorbs. no hat=no playing catch. it's as simple as that.
also, equally great is learning dance moves from her. probs she can bust a move.
okay, that is all.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
a minor slip up (pun intended).
so i had a grad school interview on monday.
i knew about it for two weeks, and to say i was stressing is an understatement. i mean, this interview determined my future. no big deal, right?
wrong.
HUGE deal.
my biggest worry? what to wear. duh. because naturally these professionals are going to be most concerned about what i'm wearing not what i say. so i planned and prepped. i had the perfect outfit picked out. i laid it all out the night before to be extra prepared. for some reason i had this huge fear that i was going to forget my shoes and/or my slip. so i made sure those were out and ret to go.
then i went to sleep. and had a nightmare about my interview. the first question they asked me in my sleep-interview was what "TEM" stands for. um. no clue. they informed me it stood for the university of communications. UGH. HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT?? my dream-self berated me for my stupidity. (fyi, i looked up TEM on google dot com when i woke up (so i would be prepared if/when they asked that to me because my dreams are so inspiring). obvi it doesn't stand for university of communications. in fact, it stands for some middle eastern country or something like that. they did not ask me this question in my interview (shocker, i know) but anyways...)
i woke up. laid i bed. you don't care. blahblahblah.
grabbed all my necessities and headed out the door. 2 hour drive to tucson. drivedrivedrive. oh wait, we're 20 minutes away from the school and all of a sudden it hits me. you, IDIOT, you forgot your slip. i brushed the worry aside because how could i forget one of the things i knew i was going to forget?? i couldn't. because i was prepared.
except i wasn't. i looked in the back seat for my outfit (i couldn't drive in it and get it all wrinkled, silly. presentation is everything). NO SLIP. CRAP. now the interviewers are going to be able to see through my clothes and they'll think i'm a slut and tell me to get away from their university because they don't accept such revealing people. this is the thought that ran through my mind. among others...
thank the heavens there was a kohl's nearby. (fyi, wal mart does not sell slips. went there first.) so i took a minor detour prior to my interview. and good thing i did. because they loved me! and probs that had everything to do with my outfit not being see-through. i can't really think of any other reason why they would have thought i was amazing enough to accept. yes, ACCEPT. as in, ACCEPTED to grad school.
i'm brilliant. shh...
i knew about it for two weeks, and to say i was stressing is an understatement. i mean, this interview determined my future. no big deal, right?
wrong.
HUGE deal.
my biggest worry? what to wear. duh. because naturally these professionals are going to be most concerned about what i'm wearing not what i say. so i planned and prepped. i had the perfect outfit picked out. i laid it all out the night before to be extra prepared. for some reason i had this huge fear that i was going to forget my shoes and/or my slip. so i made sure those were out and ret to go.
then i went to sleep. and had a nightmare about my interview. the first question they asked me in my sleep-interview was what "TEM" stands for. um. no clue. they informed me it stood for the university of communications. UGH. HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT?? my dream-self berated me for my stupidity. (fyi, i looked up TEM on google dot com when i woke up (so i would be prepared if/when they asked that to me because my dreams are so inspiring). obvi it doesn't stand for university of communications. in fact, it stands for some middle eastern country or something like that. they did not ask me this question in my interview (shocker, i know) but anyways...)
i woke up. laid i bed. you don't care. blahblahblah.
grabbed all my necessities and headed out the door. 2 hour drive to tucson. drivedrivedrive. oh wait, we're 20 minutes away from the school and all of a sudden it hits me. you, IDIOT, you forgot your slip. i brushed the worry aside because how could i forget one of the things i knew i was going to forget?? i couldn't. because i was prepared.
except i wasn't. i looked in the back seat for my outfit (i couldn't drive in it and get it all wrinkled, silly. presentation is everything). NO SLIP. CRAP. now the interviewers are going to be able to see through my clothes and they'll think i'm a slut and tell me to get away from their university because they don't accept such revealing people. this is the thought that ran through my mind. among others...
thank the heavens there was a kohl's nearby. (fyi, wal mart does not sell slips. went there first.) so i took a minor detour prior to my interview. and good thing i did. because they loved me! and probs that had everything to do with my outfit not being see-through. i can't really think of any other reason why they would have thought i was amazing enough to accept. yes, ACCEPT. as in, ACCEPTED to grad school.
i'm brilliant. shh...
Monday, March 19, 2012
baggage claim.
i decided the number one thing i hate about being single this week.
now, i am not one of those people who complains about being single all the days. there are actually quite a few things i love about being single. married people who say marriage is the greatest thing ever invented, don't freak out. it's not like i don't want to get married. it's just that i'm enjoying the single life.
with one exception.
called flying alone.
why do you hate flying alone, girl?
is it because you hate sitting next to strangers?
no.
is it because said strangers ask the strangest questions and can be somewhat annoying at times?
no.
is it because you're sick of the male flight attendants hitting on you?
no.
(and no, i'm not making this up. a male flight attendant DID hit on me this one time. how do i know he was flirting? let's just say he brought me a cup filled with gummy bears. who does that? a southwest flight attendant who is clearly flirting with me, that's who. and can i just say, that is the kind of flirting i am definitely not opposed to--free food.)
well if it's none of those things, what could it possibly be?
i will tell you.
it's called having to heave my hugenormous carry on suitcase above my head and into a tiny little compartment where it barely fits BY. MYSELF.
i am weak.
how can you expect me to enjoy doing that? especially in front of hundreds of strangers who judge me with their judgy eyes for not being stronger? (okay so maybe they don't have judgy eyes. but then again, maybe they do.)
it is hard. and it makes me light headed. and it is so not enjoyable. and then i see all these couple-y people where the man is like, "oh sweetie, is that bag heavy? let me just get that for you." and then he proceeds to lift the bag with one finger. because he is so masculine and strong.
i need me one of those men. forget dating or marrying him. i just want a personal male assistant to fly with me so i don't have to lift up my bag. that's all i'm asking for.
and for those of you who would tell me to just pack lighter because then it wouldn't be such a problem...
to you i say: fitting it in a carry on sized bag was difficult enough. who do you think i am? superwoman? um. no. because if i was superwoman i would be able to lift my own bag regardless of the content weight. that's all i'm saying.
now, i am not one of those people who complains about being single all the days. there are actually quite a few things i love about being single. married people who say marriage is the greatest thing ever invented, don't freak out. it's not like i don't want to get married. it's just that i'm enjoying the single life.
with one exception.
called flying alone.
why do you hate flying alone, girl?
is it because you hate sitting next to strangers?
no.
is it because said strangers ask the strangest questions and can be somewhat annoying at times?
no.
is it because you're sick of the male flight attendants hitting on you?
no.
(and no, i'm not making this up. a male flight attendant DID hit on me this one time. how do i know he was flirting? let's just say he brought me a cup filled with gummy bears. who does that? a southwest flight attendant who is clearly flirting with me, that's who. and can i just say, that is the kind of flirting i am definitely not opposed to--free food.)
well if it's none of those things, what could it possibly be?
i will tell you.
it's called having to heave my hugenormous carry on suitcase above my head and into a tiny little compartment where it barely fits BY. MYSELF.
i am weak.
how can you expect me to enjoy doing that? especially in front of hundreds of strangers who judge me with their judgy eyes for not being stronger? (okay so maybe they don't have judgy eyes. but then again, maybe they do.)
it is hard. and it makes me light headed. and it is so not enjoyable. and then i see all these couple-y people where the man is like, "oh sweetie, is that bag heavy? let me just get that for you." and then he proceeds to lift the bag with one finger. because he is so masculine and strong.
i need me one of those men. forget dating or marrying him. i just want a personal male assistant to fly with me so i don't have to lift up my bag. that's all i'm asking for.
and for those of you who would tell me to just pack lighter because then it wouldn't be such a problem...
to you i say: fitting it in a carry on sized bag was difficult enough. who do you think i am? superwoman? um. no. because if i was superwoman i would be able to lift my own bag regardless of the content weight. that's all i'm saying.
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