Rant:
Despite what Lindsay Lohan tells us, leggings are not pants. I’m going to go ahead and define “pants” as having a zipper, and weighing more than an ounce. I would get on a scale with just leggings on, and that my friends, means that those suckers weigh nothing. I don’t care if you have a rockin’ body, if it’s not cold outside, if you’ve seen so-and-so do it and it looked awesome, if it’s laundry day and you have nothing else to wear, etc. If someone could walk up behind you and pull them down, they are not pants. Thanks.

This weekend, while off shopping with the moms, she informed me that I’d be taking a self defense class with my cousin. You know, because there are tons of dangerous criminals in the town of 5 that we live in.

Just to make her happy, though, I agreed. My roundhouse kick could use a little fine tuning, so why not? But then, she said something that made the Democrat in me flinch. “Also, your daddy called me last week, and he’s decided that he is going to purchase you a gun. It’ll be a small one, he says it will fit in your purse. And, you’ll have to have a permit for it…oh, and…he wants you to take some lessons on how to shoot it, too.”

Um, huh? Do I have a stalker that I’m unaware of? Is someone sending me death threats? I am very confused.

Furthermore, and I don’t know that my dad will ever truly accept this, but I’m pretty much not a Republican. I know, it makes me feel less Southern just typing it, but it’s the truth. I am in favor of gun control. And you all know how I feel about gay marriage. Let ’em get married and get divorced like the rest of us, right? Right? Anyway, I don’t know how to break it to my dear ole’ dad, but I do not think I’ll have an NRA card in my wallet any time soon.

So, I’m going to work up my courage and call my dad tonight (speech in hand) and say the following:
“Hey, Dad. So, mom mentioned to me that you want me to pack some heat around town, and while that is very Sarah Palin of you, I don’t know if anyone would benefit from that. I can barely work my new BlackBerry, so the thought of me pulling out my nine and bustin’ a cap should scare the hell out of you and anyone in the surrounding three counties.”

I’ll spend the next 20 or so minutes explaining to him what a BlackBerry is, and defending why I would sign a two-year contract with any cell phone carrier. This will be followed by lengthy a second amendment lecture, and him reminding me that my brother would also be horrified by my position. Count. On. It.

Texting…
Ben: I just found the greatest name for a Facebook album.
Me: What is it?
Ben: “My Couch Pulls Out, But I Don’t.”

Face to face convo about not-so-common implants…
Friend 1: I heard that he was getting an implant in his…
Friend 2: What? How does that work? Does it make it bigger all the time or just when…
Me: Are we talking elongating or thickening?

Phone convo…
Erica: So how have you been doing?
Me: Pretty good. I mean, I have my moments. Like last week on my way home when I heard this sad ass Kenny Chesney song.
Erica: WHAT? You’re listening to country music? No, no. You are going to have to ban country music for AT LEAST a year.

In response to that inevitable “how are you?” – you know, the one with the tone…
Friend: How are you?
Me: Well, I’m not jumping off any bridges any time soon, if that’s what you’re asking.

Face to face conversation with an insurance guy at work…
Guy: Ok, we will fill out this online form. Put in your name first. Now, are you married?
Me: Er, well…funny you should ask. Technically, yes. Well, legally, yes.
Guy: Why don’t we put the legal answer down, and you can always edit it later.
Me: Great. Can’t you just add an “it’s complicated” selection like on Facebook?
Guy: I’ll look into that.

G-chat convo…
Colleen: I’d like to do something for you, but I’m not sure what you do in this situation. Do they make a card or something?
Me: Get Well Soon?
Colleen: Haha. Sorry, but the only way I know how to handle things is with humor and sarcasm.
Me: That’s ok, that is how I get through life!

The offender: Jennifer “J.Lo” Lopez Anthony

The item(s) in question: Dress, at the 2009 Golden Globes

My thoughts: While I applaud her efforts to shock the world with her bangin’ body after having twins, this takes it a bit…far. The back of the dress, if you want to call it that, was also very low. Can’t we do one or the other, Jenny? Show me the cleavage or show me the backside, but don’t show me both at the same time. It’s stripper-esque. Also, the fabric. I don’t love it. I feel like she might have been running behind, so she ran into Donald Trump’s house, ripped down a drape and threw it on.

The solution: More fabric, different fabric – but definitely not less fabric.

I found this definition of the word change, and I quite like it:
“to become different in some particular way, without permanently losing one’s or its former characteristics or essence”

These past few weeks have been full of change for me, and I’ve come to realize that I’m more scared of that word than I thought. Never before have I felt more determined, more scared, more hopeful, more sad or more peaceful. I know that I will be fine, and happy – and that I will feel “normal” again. I’m not really sure when that will happen, but I know it will happen. Different in some particular way, without permanently losing one’s or its former characteristics or essence.

Sometimes we let things that happen to us define who we are, and sometimes that is ok. I can’t, however, let this define who I am. If so, I’ll lose part of myself – the trusting part, the love-you-like-there’s-no-tomorrow part, the eternally optimistic part…and those are some of my best qualities, so I can’t let this be what defines me.

I am a lot of things and certainly not perfect. Since I’m sure you’re wondering about my imperfections now, I’ll list a few: I use way too many commas, my cell phone is never charged, I leave coffee cups everywhere and I can be quite the firecracker when I’m mad. No really, I am pretty scary for a little person. There is nothing about me, however, that is cynical or jaded. And, I’m not going to be.

Endings are not like beginnings, are they? There is always something a bit sad about an ending – even if it’s time.

My mama (god bless her) always reminds me that “this too shall pass” – and it will. That’s the thing about endings. There’s a beginning just around the corner.

yay for:
the best pedicure ever
plans for the weekend with cola friends
cold weather in january, finally
online shopping at piperlime
waking up with a snuggling pup
fountain diet coke from sonic
hearing george jones on the radio
plotting when to take vacation time
sex and the city reruns
researching home ownership
not getting behind a school bus on the way to work
low gas prices
a new US weekly to read
curly hair days
finding ten dollars in my jacket
looking at college photos and laughing out loud

One of my friends told me that her New Year’s resolution was to do more work at work. I will not say whom “she” is, as the consequences of that might not be so good. But can’t we all relate? We’re constantly bombarded by distractions while working. Text messages, personal emails, sale emails, chat messaging, Facebook alerts…the list goes on and on. And unless you work at a place where websites are blocked – you’re kind of screwed.

You don’t want to see what so-and-so wrote on your wall, but you just have to. You don’t mean to have more “conversations” via g-chat than you do on the telephone, but it just happens. You don’t want to see what is on sale at JCrew.com, but today is the last day of the “final sale” and you really liked that skirt in the photo they attached to your email.

I’ve given this some thought, and while in theory I could block emails from JCrew, stay signed out of g-chat, and go off of Facebook…it’s really just a silly theory, because I could never do actually do those things. I shuttered just thinking about it. If I woke up tomorrow to a world without g-chat, I might just give up. How in the hell would I communicate with my friends? Actually talk to them? No, no thank you. I don’t have time for all of that. G-chat lets me talk to four different people (or more) at once. I can even have a group discussion about NM’s bachelorette party without having to “reply all” to an email. I need g-chat. I need Facebook. I need sale emails.

I might also need some sort of group therapy session.

Have you ever heard the lyrics to a song and thought that it must have been written about you, or how you feel at the moment? I’ve decided to dub these, “lyrics that fit my life” – and I hope it’ll be a blog follower favorite for the new year.

Without further ado, I bring you this edition of Lyrics That Fit My Life:

Who died and crowned me everybody’s everything
I’m even busting my butt through the weekend
By the time I get home there’s not an ounce of sanity
Between the dogs, my momma’s calls
Is it against the law
For me to get what I need

A good friend and a glass of wine
Someone to say it’s gonna be alright
A good friend and a glass of wine
A little pick me up to get me through the night
We talk trash n’ we laugh and cry
That kind of therapy money can’t buy
Every now and then, every now and then
Every girl needs a good friend and a glass of wine

From “Good Friend And A Glass Of Wine” by LeeAnn Rimes

The following email trail was taken from my inbox yesterday. Some blanks have been added to protect the city and people referenced. The email she sent me had been forwarded to the entire staff where she works.

Mom’s email to me
Subject: FW: Beware downtown (City Name was here)

My husband asked if I would forward this email to everyone. This has become a real concern to us after what happened to our daughter over the holidays. IF you have a need to go downtown, please be very cautious and aware of your surroundings.

As a frequent client of downtown ____ establishments, I find it appalling that in the past 2 weeks, two of our acquaintances have been robbed at gunpoint. The responding police officers and investigators said that the occurrences were not at all unusual and that between 5 to 7 armed robberies take place EVERY NIGHT OF THE WEEK.

That is between:
35 to 49 Armed Robberies per week
140 to 196 Armed Robberies per month
1680 to 2352 Armed Robberies per year

Given the above numbers, what are the odds that you will be mugged the next time that you go downtown? I personally am going to ensure that I reduce the odds against my family being robbed and possibly killed for a night of what? The urban downtown area has some things that can not be found in (different town name), but are any of them worth being killed for? I would never tell you what to do, but as the NEWS is unable or unwilling to report these statistics, I felt that you should be aware.

Sincerely,
(Name)
________________________

My response
Subject: Re: FW: Beware downtown (City Name was here)

It’s IDIOTS like that that are the reason downtown ___ continues to have crime. Give a criminal an empty part of town, and you’ve given them a playground. Give a criminal a fearful public, and you’ve given them what they wanted.

Can you say “exaggeration” about the number of robberies? Do you really think there are 5-7 armed robberies each night? I’m pretty sure the media would fall all over themselves to report that.

SEND that out to the staff. Also include that they should never go to any metropolitan city ever. Stay in your houses and shop online. See how well your business community does then.

Can you tell I’m angry?
-Mandi
_________________________

Mom’s reply
Subject: Re: FW: Beware downtown (City Name was here)

I can tell…

Put an end to using dirty words. (Unless really necessary.)
Take vitamins every day.
Use a better/anti-aging skin care system. (Hello, depressing.)
Volunteer my time.
Start exercising.
Clean out my closet and donate clothes I no longer wear.
Not screen as many phone calls.
Make more time for doing things I like to do.
Spend more time with my family.
Spend less time worrying about what others think.
Travel more.
Save money.
Leave work on time.
Write more.