Well hello 2011, you look gorgeous

I'm one of those people (read: hoarders) who saves my OCD-laced planners from years gone by. Why? Well, part of me thinks it's a hoot to go back and read some random reminder of spending the night with Haley or college finals or job interviews. The other part of me is simply helping out the poor staffer from E! True Hollywood Story who researches my life should I ever get my 15 minutes of fame.

I purchased my spanking new 2011 planner and literally COULD NOT WAIT to transfer my info and kiss 2010 goodbye and good riddance!

The past year has been the hardest of my entire life and I seriously thought about having some type of tribal burning of my 2010 planner as a cleansing a la the 'ex boyfriend bonfire' on Friends. Give last year the proverbial finger. Instead I decided to keep it with the others. A testament to what I made it through...and lived.

So I sat down with my new planner and marveled at the crisp pages. 365 new chances. 12 months of possibilities. 4 seasons of promise.

Things I am Thankful For

* Jesus Christ died for me and I have a home with Him in Heaven.

* I get to buy my precious nephew his very first 'big boy Bible.'

* I get outbid on the eBay things I really don't want anyway.

* Lite 96.9 plays all Christmas 24/7 from Thanksgiving until New Year's.

* My freckles will forever make me look younger than I really am.

* I can actually feel the love of my close friends.

* Cherry candy canes are only 99 cents.

* I know how to knit.

* Life here on Earth is short, the pain is only temporary.

* I know how to drive a straight shift.

* My turkey was picture perfect this year.

* My family trusts me to be the caretaker for my Grandmother.

* When I tweet, I feel like a celebrity.

* Redbox movies.

* A boss who asks how I am and genuinely wants to hear my response.

* Alabama football.

* Harry Potter.

* I have so many good books to read it's hard to pick one to start with.

* Being told I'm beautiful by someone who's not related to me.

* Friendly dogs.

* Hershey's with almonds.

* Good tires.

* Dates where you have the best time not really doing anything at all.

* High speed Internet.

* Sonic Ice.

* Getting the 'thank you' wave when letting someone in front of me in traffic.

* Making it through to the other side of the hardest year of my life.

* Looking more like my Mother every year.

* Gadsden is only 45 minutes away.

* Sunday afternoon naps.

* I have a retirement fund.

* Knowing Doondaddy is listening.

Don't get riled up!

Oh dear. I knew this day would come. Well, I hoped this day would come but in the same way you look forward to buying a new car or getting a drastic haircut. You know it's for your own good and it needs to happen but it's gonna hurt a little.

I....went on a date.

YIKES!

After joining 2 dating sites at the near insistence of my friend I met (can you say 'meet' when it's online?) a nice guy who stood out quite a bit from the freak shows and wackadoodles.

I have a fairly outgoing personality so I'd been asked out before since the big D but those were all answered with an I'm-flattered-but-I-just-don't-think-I'm-ready mantra. It just rolled right off the tongue. Even after I was ready I used this excuse I admit. It really is flattering to be asked though. My sorely bruised ego was grateful for that.

I sort of had in mind a long string of first dates. You know, lots of dinner and polite, entry-level get-to-know-you questions, a brief family history, the highlights of my resume, a peck on the cheek and call it a night.

As God continues to show me however, I do not make the plans.

New Guy is nice. Really nice. And while I pictured myself (for the first time in my life) dating around for an extended period before any chaps got a second date things are not going like I thought.

New Guy is pretty awesome and we've been on several dates. I have given only the barest of essential details to the fam (i.e. He's tall. He lives in Gadsden.) much to their exaspiration. My reply when they point out I'm grinning like an idiot is to say, "Don't get riled up" and then quickly change the subject. I think it's working about as well as that time I denied opening half my Christmas presents while Mom & Dad were gone and acting shocked when the tags were already off some of the clothes.

I really don't know what is wrong with me but doing the casual, laid back thing has never been my strong suit. Now, I'm not picking out china patterns with New Guy but at the same time I told the latest enquirer that I was 'seeing somebody.'

I'm seeing somebody. OMG

I'm being seen by somebody!

Maybe I should look in the mirror next time I say, 'Don't get riled up!'

Trick or Treat

For me, the official 'Holiday Season' starts with Halloween.

As soon as the pumpkins come out I get all excited and break out my Monster Mash Party Hits and watch Hocus Pocus and Practical Magic.

Last year I had the opportunity to go a real live costume party with a significant other. Since I was part of a (married) couple I wanted to dress as stuff that went together. What? I'm so not the only one.

I compiled a long list of possibilities: Peter Pan and Wendy (Yep, with tights. I can't begin to describe how fast that one was nixed.); Dorothy and The Tin Man; Dorothy & The Lion; Dorothy and The Scarecrow (notice a pattern here?); Sara Palin & a Mousse (trust me, at the time it was hysterical; A Pirate and Wench, etc.

None of these were acceptable to Mr. X and the party was a week away so I took matters into my own hands and bought the last two coordinating costumes at Wal-mart. Bacon & Eggs.

And no, for the love of Pete that is not Mr. X and me.

Fast forward a year. Halloween is coming up again and I have a costume party to go to . The hunt is on for a (slightly slutty) fun outfit and I thought more than once about wearing my wedding dress covered in fake blood. Too much?

Is it too hard to ask for a costume that emphasizes my boobs, gives me an excuse to wear my glitter makeup I've been hoarding since junior high, is something recognizable so I don't have to explain what I am all night, goes with my black knee-high boots I always want to wear and says, 'Come hit on me,' 'But only if you are employed, unmarried and don't live with your mother.'?

I know that's an aweful lot to ask of flimsy material made in Taiwan but if I could get that all for under $50 that would be great. K? Thanks.

Baby steps

Ok. It's been a while. And by a while I mean it's been the appropriate amount of time (since the big D) for me to speed drop some pounds (having tears for breakfast and the trots for dinner helps), have a nervous breakdown (I'm still working on that one) and get my Rx for Prozac. That last one should kick in 3-5 days from now so if none of you want to talk to me until Thursday I'll understand.

Anywho...I took the advice (ok, down right insistence) of some friends and joined a dating site. *eek*

After setting my filters to the highest possible "no freaks, axe murderers or mama's boys allowed" settings I got several nice comments from chaps in the area who thought I was pretty. Aww. (insert school girl giggle here)

Maybe was being a tad harsh, but right off the bat I eliminated about 3/4 of the male population in the tri-state area. I mean come on people. It's like you're wanting me to block you. Automatic cut for any of the following:

*Making a 'gangsta' face complete with sideways peace sign in your profile pic
*Having the toilet visible where you took your pic in the bathroom. (Crop isn't one of those bad 4-letter words)
*Trying to be all mysterious with answers like "wouldn't you like to know" or "I'll tell you later." Um, yeah I would like to know. Just tell me now and save us some time.
*Any type of sexual innuendos alluding to how skilled you are or the number of women your services have pleased. If you make me think of Clamidia, Gonorrhea or Herpes I'm not only moving on, but I'm blocking you and Germ-Xing my keyboard.
*Tales of how you've been done wrong by women in the past. I've got sad crap too buddy. You gonna cry on our first date?
*Bad spelling. Spell check is free honey. Use it.
*Saying how badly you want a good, honest, loyal, loving woman to settle down with. Really? I thought you'd want a stupid, rude, lying skank of a bitch who won't remember you or care to in the morning. This is a given guys, don't list it.
*A long list of must haves. You won't settle for anything less than a 5'9" Rhodes scholar with long blond hair and Barbie measurements? Hop on over to Russia pal and order yourself up a treat. (and I probably wouldn't mention that you are 5'7", 50 pounds to the greater and balding, but I'm just saying)

Go Team! (sort of)

The pigskin is something that's always been illusive to me. I dare admit that I, a born and bred Southerner, haven't a clue what those corn-fed chaps are doing scurrying about on the field. They would revoke my Southern Belle card, but I make a banana puddin' so perfect it would make you weep.

There's a scene in Driving Miss Daisy where Morgan Freeman is telling Jessica Tandy that he can't read. She counters with, "But I see you looking at the paper all the time." He explains, "But that's just it, I just be a lookin'." It's kind of the same for me, but not as profound.

I love everything about football: The cool weather, the excited fans, tailgating, entire outfits and a host of other merchandise devoted to the people you're watching. It's very similar to what the theatre is to me. Hell, if people were grilling hot dogs outside Broadway I'd say they were one in the same.

I almost broke down and bought An Idiot's Guide to Football on Amazon.com but my pride prevented it. Thanks to the internet and a few teen angst movies from my high school days I know lots of terms so I know when to cheer and when to be sad, angry, etc. When it comes to real-time play however, I just be a lookin'.

The Incredible Shrinking Woman

I'm not a big fan of change. That's putting it mildly. It's more accurate to say that any change freaks me out to the point where the only appeasement is to make detailed To Do lists, plan a week of menus and organize the freezer. What can I say? I'm a girl who likes to plan.

Since I involuntarily had to let go of some things this year,

*cough* - husband/divorce - *cough* - Grandfather/death - *cough* - apartment/income - *cough* - freedom/Grandmother - *cough* - friends/married people think divorce in contagious - *cough* - Internet/aforementioned Grandmother thinks it's evil - *cough* - family/apparently I have exhausted my allotted time frame to grieve for husband & Grandfather and should be all chipper again - *cough**cough**cough*

I decided to voluntarily let go of something I've been holding on to for a long time, my old clothes.

Let it be noted that I am not now, nor have I ever been materialistic. My choice to hoard sweaters, skirts and the like from my younger (and albeit thinner days) is almost purely financial. Almost.

A massive, three-day consignment event is coming up and I am bidding goodbye to Jennie circa (mumbling a year) once and for all.

Going through the Rubbermaid boxes of clothes I remember wearing to homecoming games, special dates, Christmas parties and weddings it's hard not to be nostalgic. But I'm on a mission here so I'm tagging my memories for about $2 a pop. HA!

There's one other thing I've lost over the months...weight! And while sorting my piles I decided to try on a few just for fun. I know what you're thinking and NO, I didn't keep all the clothes. I limited myself to 5 things to keep from several hundred so shut it.

In keeping with the theme of this blog and being all happy and crap I am looking on the bright side. I'll have more space, earn a bit of money and have rediscovered the cutest Banana Republic skirt I can proudly park my incredibly shrinking behind into.

Such is the Circle of Consumeristic America

Don't you just love balancing your checkbook after payday

and see that plump, sunny figure?

Don't you just hate the wee anorexic balance that's left

after all your bills are paid?

2004

Toxic by Britney Spears topped the charts

The National World War II Memorial opened in Washington, D.C.

Friend, Frasier and Sex and the City all aired their final episodes

A tsunami in Asia kills almost 300,000 people

Shrek 2, Harry Potter and Million Dollar Baby dominated the box office

Janet Jackson had a 'wardrobe malfunction' on live tv during the Super Bowl

Everyone freaked when gas hit a (then) all-time high of $2.11 per gallon

Ken Jennings won $2.5 million on Jeopardy

The CIA admitted there was 'no immanent threat' of weapons of mass destruction before the U.S. invasion if Iraq in 2003

Martha Stewart was sentenced to 5 months in prison for insider trading

Julia Child, Christopher Reeve, Marlon Brando and Ronald Regan died

Oh, I almost forgot. It was the last year I went on a first date. Yikes.

An Ode to Tomatoes

My tomatoes are done. They have given their all. And while I muttered curses at them for breaking my back, making me sweat and sucking up all my time weeding, watering and preserving, I miss them.

Courtesy of talented people at Etsy.com I give you an ode to tomatoes.

Until next year my pretties!

Just give me my free crap and back away, slowly

I opened my e-mail the other day to find a printable coupon for a free burger at Ruby Tuesday's for my birthday.

Awww. I didn't know they cared so much!

Today's e-mail had one for a free appetizer from Sante Fe so I started thinking, I wonder how much crap I can get for free just for being born?

Below is The List. Consider it my early/late/on time birthday present to you since I had to link each one individually. You could literally gorge yourself right on to Biggest Loser. You're welcome.

Wondering what present you can get for me? I would love for you to NOT take me to any of these places and have them clap out of sync to some nauseating song with nonsensical lyrics. Capiche? Thanks, it's just what I wanted.

Free scoops at Cold Stone Creamery, Baskin Robbins and Dairy Queen

Free appetizer at TGIFriday's

Free burger/sandwich at Red Robin and Firehouse Subs

Free dessert at Applebee's and Quizno's

Entire meals free at Captain D's, IHOP, Tony Roma's, Zaxby's and Taco Bell

Free birthday swag at Sephora (one year it was 3 lip glosses, another it ws 2 nail polishes), Krispy Kreme (coffee mug & 1/2 dozen donuts!), Academy Sports ($5 gift card) and Victoria's Secret ($10 gift card).

Sonic gives away anything from a free burger to a shake to tater tots and you can get 5 free wings at Wingstop.

I just missed the age cut offs for these by a few years (ok, decades) but they're still fun: Denny's, California Pizza Kitchen, Burger King, Ace Hardware Kid's Club and Toys R Us will give you a balloon, crown, birthday announcement over the intercom and mail you a card from Geoffery! Sweet deal.

Four-Eyes No More!

I wear glasses.

Correction: I wear glasses for the 40+ hours a week I'm at work staring at a computer all day. They only have a slight prescription so I don't have to have them to see properly. The moment I get home they're ripped off and forgotten until morning.

With vanity running amok, I have desperately wanted contacts since about hour #2 after my first pair of glasses 6 years ago. One prior attempt didn't turn out so hot, and I've only got myself to blame.

See, I'm curious. After my 'better or worse, 1 or 2, A or B' session and the doctor had written down my adjustments I was left with the butterfly contraption in the dark room for about half an hour dilated like Japanese Anime. I thought we were finished. I mean, he wrote stuff down! After the 20-minute-mark (ok, ok, the 3-minute-mark) I got bored and played with all the knobs and dials. I was like Optometrist Barbie. Same girl, no training, just happened to run across an accessory pack with the proper occupational theme.

Come on, who doesn't want to play with this?

After awhile I was bored again so I just sat there and waited.

This is where things get tricky. Doc walks back in, checks out the butterfly contraption I'd been playing with and Writes. Stuff. Down. Yikes! All of the sudden I'm 5 years old trying to hide the magic markers so I won't be suspected of the fresh artwork on the wall! I panicked. I wanted to tell him but I just couldn't out myself. I would later find out the second set of numbers he got were for my contact prescription. Guess I don't have to tell you they didn't work out so well.

Guess I don't also have to tell you that I have a new optometrist.

Speaking of birthdays....

Every year around my birthday I buy myself a little prize.

These To: Me From: Me gifts range from a new party dress and unrealistic but beautiful heels in which I have no occasion to don all the way to a large, freakishly complex, need to fly to Bali for a teaspoon of magical spice to make this crap cookbook with photos so delicious I can only describe it as
FOOD PORN.

This year's gem? Feast your eyes upon this:Ain't she a beauty? I will become a canning goddess, producing rows and rows of every vegetable, sauce, soup and jam my little heart desires!

Happy is the new black

In about 2 weeks I will turn 31.

Birthdays, not unlike New Year's Eve, sends a wave of irrepressible desire to take stock of one's life.

I am guilty.

This is a new blog. In it I am trying to turn over a new leaf. The past 365 days have been less than kind but I am doing my level best to wallow no more.

Happy is the new black. Kind of a 'fake it till you make it' mantra. No promises readers, (probably just my mother, hi Mom) but I'm gonna give it the ole college try.