My Daddy Will Faint

27 Aug

Confession:  I kind of heart Hillary.


Even though, according to the ever-enlightening Rush Limbaugh, I probably only like her because I’ve had “two or three abortions” or “have been married two or three times.”  Click here for his ridiculousness.

For the record, Rush, I’m zero for two in your little theory.  No abortions, and so far, just the one marriage.  You, however, have been married and divorced three times.  Hmm?  Maybe you don’t like women because they don’t like you.

At any rate, I thought Hillary’s speech last night was excellent.  Kudos to her speech writer – she seemed sincere, she rallied the crowd, and she was even a little funny.  She did what was best for the Democratic Party by swallowing her enormous pride, and I do like a girl who can “take one for the team.”  Now, that doesn’t mean I’m voting for Obama…I am one of those annoying “undecided voters” (and a moderate, too, which is equally annoying) – so we’ll see.

Here’s Hillary’s speech in case you missed it.  Don’t worry, I’ll show some love for the Republicans next week.

The Wholly City

26 Aug

Charleston, South Carolina, is known as the Holy City because, well, there are a ton of churches there.  The skyline is filled with them, and they say there are over 400 places to worship there.  It is surely deserving of this nickname, however, after going there this past weekend, I decided it should also be known as The Wholly City…since so many of us who have lived there feel whole when we go back.


There’s just something about Charleston that sucks you in and refuses to let you go.  No matter where you go after you’ve lived there, no matter where life takes you, Charleston remains a part of you.  I’m sure many other cities and places do this, too, but I’ve never experienced those – so I can’t speak to them.  Even though I’m not originally from Charleston, when I go back to visit, I feel as if I’m going home again.  It’s something my college friends experience as well, and it gives us a bond that most people don’t understand, or (gasp) make fun of.  Our response is simple:  jealous.


Here’s my plug for my beloved city:
If you haven’t gone there, go there.  Experience the culture, the history, the beaches, the amazing restaurants, the shopping, the inability to not trip yourself on the cobblestone or brick streets, etc.  You’ll fall in love with the place.  If you’ve been there before, go back.  There’s something to do no matter what the season.

Two Cheaters, Two Letters

22 Aug

Dear John Edwards,

Let’s start with the good:  your good looking in that old politician guy kind of way, and I like that you’re Southern and not a total redneck.  Enough of that – on to the bad.  You cheated on your wife.  The same wife who was dying of cancer but still went out and campaigned with you (because, hey, you couldn’t let something like a dying wife stop you from your goals) all over the country.  After she knew of your tawdry affair with a woman who could use some low lights and a better haircut.  Then, you publicly lied about it.  Now, allegedly you have a Juris Doctor from the University of North Carolina, so one would think you are more intelligent than say, me, who has a Juris Doctor in Shopping, but no…you are not.  Even I know that if you are a public figure, you can not lie about anything in your personal life.  Someone always finds out, and the longer you deny it, the worse you look.  Have a nice day, and please stop running for office because you’re not winning.
Love,
M

Dear Chinese Gymnastics Team,
The jig is up.  We know that you’re all 12.  Enjoy your gold medals, though, because you were taken from your families at age 3 (and not allowed to have a life outside of gymnastics) to train for this.  Our girls are 16 or older, see their families every day, go to high school or college, have friends and still got the silver medal.  In.  Your.  Face.
Love,
M

Trampoline Jumping is Not a Sport and Other Thoughts

20 Aug

First of all, I’m obsessed with the Olympics.  Like, staying up until the wee hours and missing reality television shows to see them obsessed.  If I ever have one of those children people speak of, I’ll do my best to make him or her the next Michael Phelps.  I’m sure they’ll rebel and play chess or something, but a girl can hope, right?


Here are my thoughts on the 2008 Olympics:
1.  Chinese people can build them some venues.  Hate it for you, London.  Face it – you can’t top the Bird’s Nest or the Water Cube.
2.  I’m a little over the word “Beijing” – do they have to say it every three seconds?  (It works, however, because now it’s on my list of places to see before I die.)
3.  The judges have been paid off, I’m certain of it.  I’m not trying to be a Bitty Betty, but come on…the Chinese aren’t always better.
4.  Interviews directly after someone runs as fast as they can for 200 meters (or any amount, really) are cruel.  So is zooming in on a swimmer’s face after they break a world record.
5.  Trampoline jumping is not a sport.  Neither is ping pong.  Hey Olympic Committee – seriously?
6.  The tune that plays when they change over to a different sport makes me happy.
7.  Bob Costas never ages.
8.  I only understand every fourth word Bella Coroli says.
9.  The women’s USA volleyball team is bad ass.  And their skimpy outfits are, too.
10.  Those awful looking swim caps can not make you that much faster.  I’d like to have a word with the person who started this trend.
11.  Marathons are crazy and leave me with unanswered questions.  What if they have to pee, for example.  I’ll refrain from sharing the rest, but if you run marathons let me know.  I’ll email you my list of queries.
12.  The bronze medal needs a little jazzing up – the gold and silver get all the glory, so I say we throw a few diamonds on that sucker and breathe new life into the winning the bronze.  Together we can make third place fabulous.

Reunited

18 Aug

Class reunions are for old people, right?  Not anymore.  Didn’t you hear?  Class reunions are the new college years.  Right?  Right?  At any rate, I had my ten year reunion this past weekend.  And, instead of being boring and stuffy – it was actually…well, fun.  There, I said it.  


On movies, class reunions always suck.  They are in some school gym, with mean spirited “clique girls,” balding jocks who still talk about that football game they almost won, and a disco ball.  Ours was nothing like this, thank goodness.  We had a great turnout – and people seemed to really enjoy seeing one another again.  I guess that’s what 10 years away from each other does for you!  

The school I graduated from is different than most.  It’s the only school in the county, so everyone goes there.  There is no private school in the district, either.  Just one school – where everyone goes from kindergarten until that much anticipated senior year.  On occasion, we would get a new student – but for the most part, it was the same ole’ crowd year after year.  This, of course, had its advantages and disadvantages.  On the plus side, it was nice to not only be able to name every person in your class, but to be able to name their siblings as well.  Most times, you even knew where their house was.  On the negative side, all of us girls dated the same guys over and over again.  Not to mention that everyone always remembered every stupid thing you ever said or did in class.  And secrets?  Forget about it.  No one ever kept one.  

By the end of our senior year, we were both excited and scared to leave our classmates.  I can remember sobbing all the way through our graduation ceremony, but also insisting that I go to a college where nobody from my high school would be.  And so I did.  Some days that seems like yesterday, and some days it seems like it was a hundred years ago.  

Seeing my classmates again and reminiscing with them was surprisingly delightful.  As cheesy as it is, I’m so proud of them.  We’ve come a long way since 1998 – (and I’m not just talking about our looks, because sweet Lord we made some bad choices back then) some of us are moms and dads, some of us are teachers, some of us are doctors, some of us are professors, some of us work in Corporate America, and some of us defend our country.  We’re older, wiser and more responsible, for sure.  More mature?  Well, for the most part.  All in all (and as my mama would say), we turned out pretty darn good!

I Hate What You’re Wearing

14 Aug

The offenders:  USA Gymnastics Team


The item(s) in question:  Snap barrettes

My thoughts:  You already look as though you never reached puberty, so why wear something that no one under the age of eight does?  You get points for not spraying glitter in your hair (a la the Chinese team, who we won’t discuss in light of them winning the gold, and you letting America down with your silly falls and steps out of bounds).  But, points are deducted (and not just a tenth of a point, like 100 points) for the snap barrettes you insist on wearing.  Why not just say the hell with it and wear a scrunchie, too?  I get that you don’t need strands of hair falling in your face as you do flip after flip during your tumbling passes, but can’t you find another means?

The solution:  Bobby pins (two maximum, don’t get carried away) and better hairspray

Modern Day Soapboxes

12 Aug

I give my friend Benton a hard time about updating her Facebook status, and in discussing with her why, we decided I needed to blog about my dislike of the status box.  Hat tip on the title, B.

If you aren’t familiar with Facebook, you are either:  a) from another planet or b) pretty darn old – like 80 or something, because even my parents know what Facebook is.  Moving along, Facebook has this “status” section where people can type what they’re doing, why they’re doing it, where they are, where they’re going, etc.  It should be mentioned that it hasn’t always been there – us old school Facebookers remember the days sans status updates (and applications, for that matter, but I digress).  

The status usually starts with a person’s name, for example, “Mandi is” –  and then you fill in the blank.  You see all sorts of fill in the blank responses.  Everything from Blank is cleaning her house to Blank is in love with her new car.  Often, you see simple things, such as, Blank is at work or Blank is ready for the weekend.  Some people rarely update their status, and some people update it several times a day.  So, what’s my beef with the Facebook status feature?
  • Well, first of all, if you are at work, you probably shouldn’t put that tidbit on Facebook.  Unless you are the boss, are sleeping with him, have a very relaxed one, or work for Mark Zuckerberg.
  • Secondly, what kind of TMI (too much information) society have we become when we tell everyone what we’re doing every hour?  Seriously, I would not be surprised to see Blank is going to the restroom and will be back in ten minutes.  As my friend Erica would say, “that’s just too much, really.”  
  • Thirdly, there’s something I call the “mysterious status update,” and it’s just creepy.  Blank is thinking of someone special is used in an attempt to intrigue others, I presume, only it doesn’t intrigue me – it creeps me out and makes me wonder if you are stalking someone.
  • Lastly, and perhaps most annoying, the status update is quickly becoming a modern day soapbox for people to vent their frustrations.  Some use this in conjunction with the mysterious status update to get their point across, without actually calling someone out.  I call this the “passive aggressive status update.”  Blank is extremely pissed or Blank thinks people who are going to vote for John McCain are idiots.  We all need a place to vent our frustrations, true, but get a therapist (or get a blog).  And while you’re at it, call the person you’re pissed off at and tell them why.  Maybe they won’t do it again.

I’ve come up with some legitimate reasons for updating your status.  I know you’re on the edge of your seat, so here goes:

  • If you get engaged, married or have a baby.
  • If you are going on a fabulous trip somewhere (you paid for your Hawaiian vacay, so go ahead and brag, but please refrain from giving us a countdown until you leave).
  • If you need to thank people for wishing you Happy Birthday, Happy Graduation, Happy Engagement, etc.
  • If you do something newsworthy.  Winning the lottery, having a book published, finding the cure for cancer, beating cancer, etc. 
That’s about it.  Ready for the weekend?  Guess what?  Everyone is.  I doubt there is one person on Earth who looks at the calendar on Thursday and says, “You know, I’d like 5 more days of working with no break.”  Sad that summer break is over?  Some of us don’t get a summer break anymore (and are bitter about it), so get over it.  And stop telling everyone how tired you are, how glad you are that it’s raining, where you ate last night and what you are watching on television.  We.  Don’t.  Care.



Note:  Some of my very best friends (and favorite people) are status update addicts, so don’t go hating me and calling me a *beep* – and, never ever take me too seriously.  Lord knows I don’t.  

Today’s Yays

11 Aug

yay for:

snoozing until 6:30
getting my stitches removed
searching expedia for a holiday trip to nyc
meigs‘ birthday
loose black pants that weren’t so loose a month ago
new mascara that rocks
bar-b-que for lunch
a new blog to read, compliments of amy
temperatures below 100
team usa kicking france’s booty last night
diet mountain dew in the fridge at work
the heidi newfield cd i purchased this weekend
polka dot high heels
a clean car and house (for a few days, anyway)
different colored ultra fine point sharpies
tickets for wicked in atlanta this fall
google chat
the white puppy waiting on me to play ball with him

Preggers Alert

8 Aug

Not me, silly!  That’s not even remotely comical.  Kids stress me out.


According to foxnews.com (article link here), Jenna Jameson is expecting her first child.  Yeah, Jenna Jameson the (former) porn star.  I just want to go on record and say that that kid has no chance of being normal.  None.  Zilch.  Zero.

We’ll see your mugshot in about 18 years, baby Jameson-Ortiz.

Reflecting and Remembering

7 Aug

“Many years have passed since those summer days

Among the fields of barely
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold”

I heard “Fields of Gold” (written by Sting) on the radio during my drive to work this morning.  I know this sounds kooky (and maybe it is), but I think I was supposed to hear it – to reflect back on a time in my life that I don’t think of very often because it was so long ago.  Things were simpler back then…we were all young and foolish, and had our whole lives ahead of us.  Time passes at an amazing speed.  As we reflect, ordinary moments in our lives somehow become not so ordinary after all.  They go from regular old fields of barley – to fields of gold.

I’ll remember him as a sweet soul, who was quiet upon first glance, possessed a great laugh and was unintentionally funny.
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