A blonde moment

Me: Hey Craigers, if you had to lose one of your senses, which would it be?

Craig: Um, hmmmm.....(ponders for like EVER). I guess my sense of taste. (talks about why but I don't remember...he took too long to reply).

Me: (Meaningful 'hmmmmm' and head nod)

Craig: What about you?

Me: Speech.

Craig: That's not one of the five sense.

Me: Yes it is!! (Stare at the ceiling) Ohhhh......yeah. Huh.

Pippie gets high, knocked-up

So I had an exciting Saturday. Super exciting. Did some climbing on the ol' climbin wall behind the house. Went down the zip line. Snapped some pictures. All in all, a good time. I got Megan to shoot a video of me climbin, but I have NO idea how to load that onto blogger so we'll just leave that at that.

The White Trash Fiesta was a hit. All the staff on center came. And everybody dressed up. I got to perfect my flip-cup skills, look for a daddy for my baby (no takers, bummer), watch Talladega Nights (it's real nice, I got it at Target, it was on sale), fight with the girls over who Dwane (make-believe, incarcerated, redneck hottie) loved the best, and sip on some boone's farm (that's some nasty shit). We made up trashy names for ourselves and talked real trashy. The boys wore sleeveless shirts and boots with shorts and all of us girls had bright blue eye-shadow on. Corine even gave herself a black eye and said, "He loves me. I just didn't get his beer fast enough," while drinkin wine out of a box. Peaches had to be the best white-trash ever. You can see her picture down there. We drank South Paw, Ol' Milwaukees, and Miller Lite.

Right to Party

Me (Darla) with Mandy (Precious)

Peaches (Carline)

Our Feature Film, Talladega Nights

Me, knocked up, lookin for a daddy, and sippin the ol' Boone's

Group Shot

Knots on a Counting Rope

When I was little, I remember sitting at the dining room table for the better part of an hour. I was a frustrated, exasperated second grader working on my first book report. It all seemed hopeless--I had no idea what I was suppose to do first, how to do it, how the thing was ever goin to get done. Looking back, I want to wrap my arms around that little girl while tryin not to laugh in her face. It was a huge deal to me back then. But in the big scheme of things, it wasn't even a drop in the bucket. Kids are funny. People in general are funny. I think we'd all be better off not letting the little things get to us AND if we'd be more understanding when they get to other people. And that's my opinion on that.

I love sleeping in. Not because I get to sleep late, because, well, I can't sleep in til 10 anymore. Anyway, the reason I like to sleep in is because that means I don't have anything I just HAVE to get up for. No committment, no work, nada. So that means I can just lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. I have a whole little in-depth look in my head on politics, religion, sex, witty euphamisms, etc. The whole conversation definitley rivals This Week with George Stephanofolus.

Tonite we're hosting a White-Trash Fiesta. The new folks probably think we're insane. Good thing they figured that out early.

Thirsty Thursday

I've decided to not drink. For a whole week. No alcohol. Until next Thursday. Why? Just because. I've been drinkin a lot and it makes me feel gross the next morning. Not like sick, just greasy, you know (I'm Serbian, Scotish, and British. I can handle my drink-ha!)? So even though we're hosting a white-trash party on Saturday, I will not drink. Unless it's Boone's Farm because that really doesn't count as alcohol. And it'll be out of a paper bag so that makes it ok.

Today was the first day of training. Everybody from last season (except Sarah who transfered to another 4-H center in Georgia) came back to the Rock, and we have 5 new people here too. The calendar that says when the schools are coming and how many kids they're bringing with them is insane. We're seriously gonna be up to our necks in kids. Eeeeeek. Anyway, that's why we have more staff than last season. They all seem nifty. Me and Mandy even got a 3rd shed fairy. Except it's a guy. So he's now a shed knight. That doesn't make sense to you but that's because you're not cool and you don't work at Rock Eagle (or because you have a life. You decide).

Me and Mandy started work on Tuesday because, like I said, we're handy. So what did we build? Um, that would be two HUGE octogon platforms. Yup, handy. They're for the challenge course--you know, those things out in the woods that are built out of wood or cable and you have to use teamwork to accomplish a goal? Ok, maybe not. Anyway, they're platforms for one of the elements we built last season. Exciting enough.

Only a few more weeks until Lost starts. And it's gonna come on at a new time so I won't ever miss it because I'm teaching a night class. Exciting. How much longer can this show go on, though? I guess we'll see.

They announced the Academy Award nominees on Tuesday morning. I'm sure you can google it if you're interested. Will Smith got a nod for Best Actor.

A conversation with George Strait

Me: How's it goin, George.

George: Good. How are you, Nevena? Or is it Nev? Which do you prefer?

Me: (googly eyes) Mmmmmmmmm

George: Um, yeah, ok then...
George: I'm lookin for somebody.

Me: Who?

George: (grabs guitar, clears throat, gives meaningful glance):

She can drive a truck and rope and ride,

She feels right at home right by my side,

That's my kind of woman,

That's my cup of tea,

The girl I want for me

She's got a pair of boots that she just loves,

And like me, likes Gus from "Lonesome Dove",

That's my kind of woman,

That's me to a "T",

That's my kind of woman,

The one I want for me,

After all I've seen and all I've done,

I know somewhere there is someone,

Who'll look my way and say, I want that one,

That's my kind of woman,

That's me to the "T",

No matter what she wears she turns my head,

On rainy days, I can't pry her out of bed,

Lord, I know the order's pretty tall,

But find me and that'll be all,

That's my kind of woman,

That's me to a "T",

That's my kind of woman,

The girl I want for me,

After all I've seen and all I've done,

I know somewhere there is someone,

Who'll look my way and say, I want that one,

That's my kind of woman,

That's me to the "T",

That's my kind of woman,

The girl I want for me,

She can drive a truck and rope and ride.

Me: Aw, George, that's sweet. But you know, when I'm ready to find somebody, I'll be lookin for a guy more like Shooter Jennings:

Now, darling, I know we've had our problems lately

And you've left me after all these years

And I know I probably could've treated you better along the line

I've seen my mistakes, like that time that I took you to Waffle House

And you made me mad and I made you walk home in the rain

But you never got my sense of humor anyways

No, you never laughed at my jokes

And I never meant to hurt you

I never understood the hillbilly things I do

If our love don't work now, darling, maybe later

But you can't see the tears behind my Aviators

And I know I should've probably come home more often

On those long and lonely winter

But you know out of all those women I was always your number one

And I'm sorry about that time I got drunk and hit on your mom

And slashed you're daddy's tires

But I figured they had it coming

And I'm sorry about that time that I accidentally shot your dog

While I was hunting and I told you he ran away

Oh, wait a minute, I told you that didn't I

Oh, darling, and I could never share the secrets of my heart

I feel so much closer to you now that we're apart

If our love don't work now, darling, maybe later

But you can't see the tears behind my Aviators

If our love don't work now, darling, maybe later

But you can't see the tears behind my Aviators

If our love don't work now, darling, maybe later

But you can't see the tears behind my Aviators

Me: George, I hope you can understand. And I hope we can still be friends.

George: (Obviously disappointed). Yeah, ok.

Back in the saddle again

I moved back to THE ROCK today. It's nice to come back to work early when it's not all hectic and stuff--see, most folks are getting here Wednesday evening. Me and Mandy, well, we're a pretty sought after comodity at this joint. They got us to come early so we could build some shit. We're pretty handy. Haha. You gotta be damn good too, can't be any geek off the street, if you know what I mean, to earn your keep.

My sister's cat is missing. I hope Yosh didn't hit the poor thing. So, if for some reason you're in east Atlanta and you see a black cat, grab it. Jellybean, you remember how Pepper ran away durin the snow storm of '93? Well, she came back and lived for another 13 years! There's still plenty of hope for Sushi.

I'm really not feeling all that entertainin. I took apart the bunk bed in my room. It was all big and bulky and taking up space. So I took it apart. See, I'm handy. Last season there were only 3 girls living in our house but this season a new girl is moving in with us so we don't have the extra room anymore. We use to call it the box room coz we'd store all sorts of stuff in it. Not no more.

The Big News

Did you hear the news? Are you on the edge of your seat? Is a trickle of perspiration bubbling up on your forehead? (get a washrag, seriously though). Did your pulse just quicken? Are your hands sweaty and your knees weak? Can you eat, and can you sleep?

Ok, so what have I always said about Dierks Bentley? Anyone? I said that I would really like him if he just got that fratastic hair-do cut. And guess what. He did. And I was right.

Check it out--he looks like a brand new man (but not in the B&D kinda way). I looked for a picture to post but you know...google doesn't hold my interest for too long.

On a more serious note, I'm fixin to have to pack all my shit up and move, once again. I'm so tired of moving. I'm so tired of packing all my shit up. I'm so tired of not being able to just settle down some place. I'm seriously pissed right now. This is me, not happy. This is me being a drama queen. I'm thankful that I have a job and that I'm healthy and all that stuff. I just want to sit a while somewhere, you know? I want to feel stable for the first time since I was like 8. Maybe, when I finally get to stay somewhere for more than 3 months I'll realize that it's not the constant moving that's getting me down; that maybe it's something else. Which just totally brightens my spirits, let me tell you. I know this probably doesn't make a lot of sense or seem like a big deal. Maybe all it boils down to is the fact that I hate packing.

A funny text message can make your day

$22 worth of beer: $22
House slippers: $7
Nev trying to help the homeless AND pick up a sugar daddy: Priceless

-Boss

God bless America, my face is sore from laughing so hard last night. And my feet are sore from "skiing" around in my house shoes (Rebecca said that's what I looked like I was doin when I'd walk up to the bar to get a drink and when I was dancin). I'm tellin you, I'm quite a catch.

Ok, so maybe not. But just us girls went out last night and finding men was definitely not on the agenda and we had a blast.

My favorite episode of Sex and the City is the one where Berger breaks up with Carrie on a post-it. She wakes up to find out that he left in the middle of the night and left her the post-it. So she's furious and decides that her and the girls have to do something "fabulous" that night so it won't be the day she got broken up with on a post-it. A lot of funny things happen, but the best part is when she and Samantha are standin on the sidewalk, smokin a doobie. Carrie's sittin there suckin on it, holdin it in and makin that funny-face she says, "Men are bullshit." I fall outta my chair every time. I love that episode. Love it. Yes I do.

I'm not the only one who gets on the computer late at night drunk...

Josh randomly gets packages in the mail and he doesn't know what's in them. See, he gets drunk and bids on stuff on ebay. And then forgets about it. He also sends emails...here's an exert on one where he's talking about the AT:

On a serious note, i'm a little concerned about eating...i can't loose weight. Therefore, I would like to live off bacon. It probably has enough salt in it to preserve it for long periods. If bacon is wrong, i don't want to be right. I could write a book entitled "Bacon, the Great American Survival Story". What do you think? I could change the title if you think its not sexy enough. .

I'm still concerned about skiping the great state of new hampshire. So, here are some reasons not to skip the state. Your welcome to rebuke these reasons but it will be difficult:

1. This is the only state with two names that we will pass through with over 100 miles of trails.

2. Bob, from the movie that should have won multiple golden globes ("what about bob") , spend time in new hampshire.

3. We'll probably clear Pennsylvannia by July and we'll be wishing we had not skipped a state.

4. Nobody from alabama has evver made it through new hampshire...this fact has not been substantiated.

5. I heard from my neighbor's cousin's sister's brother that you can find gold in new hampshire.

6. An independent study group showed that the air over new hampshire is made up of gases that enable you to stay awake 20 hours a day

7. I dated a girl in high school who had a brother named "hamp" and i think its a very clear sign that we should not skip a state that has the letters "hamp" in the offical name.

8. The girl i dated was named Leslie and i'm pretty darn sure she liked the state of new hampshire.

9. I don't think my enormous ego could handle being laughed at by other hikers or your mom...who will be sure to heckle us for skipping NH.

10. Their nickname is the granite state. Where else are we going to see granite?

11. Do you know what the captial is? I sure don't. How else are we going to learn state capitals without spending extensive time in the state?

My house shoes

So my mom totally freaked yesterday morning when I left for work in a pair of heels. She tried to persuade me to wear socks with my heels. But I wouldn't. So, being a mom, she decided to wash all of my shoes that I left at the house--2 pairs of boots and my tennis shoes.

Tonite I went out with Rebecca and Kristen. But before I left the house, I looked for a piar of shoes to wear. None were to be found, except my wet boots and tennis shoes. So I grabed my 'slippers' and off I went. Yeah, I wore my slippers to the bar.

That wasn't the only mistake I made. Apparently, if you're interested in a guy in a bar (which I wasn't), and he asks you what you want to do with your life, helping the homeless is not a good answer if you hope to win the guy over. I wish I could have captured the guys faces when I said that (I was being serious, though). You would have laughed really hard. There were three of them. And then I said that. And then there was the one poor guy left after his friends ran away, rambling about how he was a "poultry and equine farmer." I told him I thought he was full of shit and then I listened to him, highly entertained, goin on about his poultry and equine business. He must have thought I waas stupid. So I let him know that I wasn't a dumbass and he should just go try to find somebody else because I wasn't interested.

I hardly ever go out to bars in Rome. Tonite was fun. But I wouldn't do it again for a while.

I drank$22 worth of beer. Damn, I need a sugar daddy.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta

Shout out to my be-boppin-boy-BOSS-JA, what!

I BECAME A 'BOB'

Just for a day or so....I filled in as a temp at Jelena's office yesterday and today in the big ATL. I had been in her office once before, but it was just to swing by and pick somethin up. There was something about all the neat little cubicles and quilts hanging on the wall that made me feel highly mischevious. I giggled to myself at the thought of getting a keg delivered around lunch time on friday, tp-ing the ceiling tiles, creating some sort of domino effect and knocking all the cubicles over in a protest against Bobs everywhere, stealing somebodys stapler, and I even thought about callin the girls in the neighboring building and hiring them to get the party started--CHEETAH. But I made my inner monkey chill, and I acted right. That doesn't mean I didn't sit there and giggle on occasion as the evil scheme's ran through my mind.

I'm not sayin that office workers who have cubicles are crazy or stupid or anything like that. I'm just not cut to be one of them. I would seriously be as out of control as a spoiled rotten brat in a candy store. You could walk by my desk and see the glaze of craziness stirring in the evil parts of my soul as the printer, once again, refused to print. I would mumble to myself incoherently and stare blankly at yet another got-to-read-this-forward flashing across my computer screen. And then hopefully I'd get hypnotized and decided that I didn't want to go back, period. And then maybe we could talk about my flare. Or not. You decide.

Seriously, though, Jellybean is up in New York so I didn't have the pleasure of hanging out with her at work. But when I walked in the office, five, count them, five, people were like, "Nevena! Hey!" and I felt really popular. And everyone was really nice and it was fun in the work kinda way.

CHANGE SUBJECT

So I checked my email today--I usually use my forestry email (ie, my school email) so I check that one the most. And some nice fellow had sent an email out to everyone (faculty, staff, all students, and all alumni) informing them about a lecture that's coming up on Climate Change. One of the apparently more republican, world-is-flat, professors responded that the lecture "global warming" (those are his quote marks, not mine) was going to be presented by (to sum up what he really meant...why can't people just say what they mean instead of attempting to cleverly hide it in banter) scientists who weren't even minimally qualified on the subject. What followed was an interesting sequence of responses between him and two other guys who pretty much told him; I found the whole "mine is bigger" argument entertaining.

But it's also sad. Seriously, a hurricane just went through Europe. Anybody ever heard of that before? My aunt is sporting shorts as she chills in Croatia. Um, usually lots of snow there this time of year. I'm not saying that the earth doesn't have normal climate fluctuations and what not. I am saying Columbus didn't fall off the edge of the earth because he had sense enough to recognize that the horizon is a curve, not a straight line. Sometimes what you see really is what you get.

Extremists terrify me. They're ignorant. And that's scary.

20 years together and still goin strong

Me: Sitting across from Josh at a resturant. Sippin on a beloved Budlight.

Josh: 'Here's 11 reasons why we SHOULDN'T skip New Hampshire......'

Me: Finish my beer. Look sad. 'You know, I love Budlight soooo much that I think I should have a funeral every time I finish one. And then open a new one at the after-party.'

Josh: Blank stare.

Me: 'Well, Rebecca would have thought that was hilarious. She would have fallen out of her chair laughin. I'll call her and prove it.' Call and leave a voicemail for Rebecca. A few hours later receive conformation that the joke was really funny.

See, me and Rebecca, we've known each other since we were 3. We're now getting close to 24 so we have officially been friends for 20 years. We're not exactly polar opposites when it comes to our personalities, but we are pretty different. I won't bore you with what's different about us, just trust me. But when it comes down to it, we think the same. Especially here lately--we have been totally and completely be insync. We'll think the same thing at the same time, etc. And our sense of humor is just so on that we laugh our asses off at stuff that makes the people around us think we're kinda crazy. They don't quite get us. But we're really funny to each other. And that's all there is to it.

Another thing I love about Rebecca is if I'm just having one of those days, I don't have to explain all the intricate details about what's wrong. For instance, I got to her house today and said, "Rebecca, I seriously think I'm about to go insane. Like, I might snap at any minute." She looked at me, but not with a concerned face, as I explained just a little bit about what I was freakin out about. Nonchalantly, she said "Yeah, I'd feel the same way too," handed me a pair of gloves, scarf, and tobogan, and took me on an hour and half walk through the woods. And that was all I needed. I felt completely better. She understands me and doesn't think I'm straight-jacket-ready when I get flustered like that. And because she's so cool about stuff, I can say anything to her without bein afraid of it bein taken the wrong way.

Ok, yeah, I would marry her but we're both straight so that just wouldn't work.

And yet another thing, we both love movies. Like, quote movies all the time but not in a nerdy, film-school-snob kinda way. Just whenever a quote we remember fits into the conversation, we spout it out. Ricky Bobby is a current favorite-'That just happened!'

And we want to start a show on the food network called Two Drunk Bitches. When we lived together, we use to get drunk and grab stuff out of our cabinet and create masterpieces in the kitchen. Well, that's better than the Barefoot Contessa show they have on now, seriously. That's lame.

And one final thing. When we were little we both had awful haircuts. There's a picture of us in preschool and she has a mega mullet and I have a mushroom. That's hot.

A sticky situation

Boss: Hey, Nev, do you think it's a bad sign if the first time you shit in your new house the toliet gets clogged?

Nev: Nah, that just means prosperity.

Boss: Good to know.

Golden Globes (this will probably bore about 90% of you)

Rocked.

Who looked awesome? Jennifer Lopez, Naomi Watts, Penelope Cruz, Evangeline Lilly (my straight-girl crush), Angelina Jolie, Kathern Heigl, Salma Hayek (I always love her dresses), America Ferrera, Sara Ramirez, and Josh Holloway (I don't normally worry about what the guys wear, but this Georgia native desires some attention...he's Sawyer in Lost).

Who looked bad? Beyonce Knowles (it wasn't a Playboy shoot), Cameron Diaz (bad hair and too much poofyness), VANESSA WILLIAMS (awful), Renee Zelwiger (I never like her dresses)

I know you're enthralled by those lists.

A bottle of wine always helps a girl get through the night.

Will Smith deserves an award for In the Pursuit of Happyness, and I was completely disappointed when Evangeline Lilly (Kate, in Lost) didn't win the Golden Globe for Best Actress in a TV drama.

Wine does 3 things: makes you really really happy and everything funny, makes you want to jump somebody (in the good way), and makes you sleepy.

Project Escapade takes a domestic turn

I don't remember if I've mentioned Project Escapade. Initially, the plan was for me and Josh to head to Ghana to volunteer at a hospital for a couple of weeks and then take a little tour around Africa. Expensive idea, huh? And the possibility of being taken hostage and/or being inducted into some guerilla organization, being trained on a bazooka, and having to partake in hand-to-hand combat is pretty high.

So Project Escapade has developed into something a little more local. We've decided to hike about 1/2 of the Appalachian Trail. We're gonna start in Maine and make it to the Shanendoah Valley in Virginia. That's the plan anyway. I'm trying to convince Josh to skip Vermont because according to the website, most folks can only hike about 8 miles a day while trying to travel through that part of the trail. We only have a little over 2 months for the trip and I'm pretty stubborn when it comes to setting goals for myself so I'm gonna make it to the Shanendoah Valley if I have to carry Josh, all of our gear, and fight off Black Bears with my bare hands (maybe it wouldn't be that different from Africa).

Now, here's a little about the thinking behind Project Escapade. I could get a nice little field job for the summer and boost my resume up a little bit, make some petty cash, and feel satisfied with life in general. Or, I can camp out for 2 months straight, walk up mountains all day with a 50lb pack on, and get paid jack. Let me simplify that a little more: I could be responsible and work, or I can have fun and play. Tough decision.

Enough of life is about being responsible and working. I'm taking advantage of my freedom from committment, and I'm gonna play.

Change of Subject

Remember how in that last post I talked about how fashion sucked. Well, I hypocritically love Red Carpets. And guess what tonite is?!? The Golden Globes Red Carpet! ...followed by the Golden Globes. How exciting is that?

Look, I already know what a big nerd I am. Go ahead and laugh at me coz I think it's funny too.

A wedgie story

This one's for the girls. The other day I went blue jeans shopping. Like any normal girl, this is a dreaded ordeal. I don't like shopping. And I like fashion even less.

Some reasons I think fashion is a crock:

• It's expensive. A fashionable bathing suit will cost you over $100. I could get a roll of duck tape for $1.50 and cover more of my body than those damn things.
  

• Your entire wardrobe goes out of style every season (I still haven't figured out how many seasons there are per year but I'll get there one day) so you have to buy new shit all the time.
  

• 10 years down the road, all of the clothes you bought for a particular season and then threw away are back in style and you have to go out and re-buy them.
  

• In the fashion industry, sexy looks like this:
  

Do I really have to say the obvious?

• And the number one reason I think fashion is a crock is because 9 times out of 10, what's considered trendy is, in my humble opinion, ugly as sin: crocks--those plastic burkinstock looking things, whatever those snow-boots are that girls wear in july, the current under-the-boob-belt, that shit jane of the jungle is wearing in that picture up there, and the list goes on.
  

I'm not sitting here trying to say that I don't like to dress up. And I'm definitely not saying that I don't love Sex and the City. I just make my own way through the world in my own clothes that don't make me look like a fool to folks outside of runway world. Granted, I have a best friend who informs me of things like, "Only dweebs wear ankle-length tights," and saves me from embarassment (I'd hate to look like a dweeb).

So how did jean shopping go? Better than expected. After going to a department store and having to try on pants that were two sizes bigger than what I normally wear (I haven't gained weight), and getting fed up with those ugly ass skinny jeans and jeans that come with holes in them (wtf?), we headed to Maurices. Girls, Maurices has its own brand of jeans. A brand of jeans designed for women, not manaquins. Women are suppose to have curves and the genius designer that Maurices has apparently paid attention in fashion school and understands that. I actually fit into a size smaller than I normally wear. And they're not expensive--I got 2 pairs for under $50. The girl who helped me wasn't one of those clerks who says something looks great on you even if you can't get the zipper up, your cellulite is blindingly obvious, and the color makes you look like a corpse--she told me that one of the cuts made me look like I had a wedgie. And I laughed really hard, thanked her for being honest, and got the other pair. So, if you're in the market for some new blue jeans and there's a Maurcies near you, go check it out.

Like red on a rose

What is the deal with my obsession with Alan Jackson? Seriously, you'd think I'd be like every other girl and have it in for Kenny Chesney or Tim McGraw. Um, the thing is, I'd like to think of myself as a person of taste so that would explain that.

Al's new love song (yes, I can call him Al. He's my long lost pal.), Like red on a rose, is definitely one of my new favorite songs. It was written Robert Lee Castleman who is/was a truck driver. I bought the cd. It was produced by Alison Krauss, and I really like it but it doesn't sound like what you'd think a typical country cd would sound like. It's like a weird concoction of lounge music, country, and the blues. Every single song is a love song. And they're all slow. Some are about how great it is to be in love and some are about how shitty it is. Most of them are lonely. And that's my excruciatingly sintillating critque about that.

Me, myself, and Isaiah

I am a direct person. Very direct. If you have something dangling from your nose, I'm not gonna do the whole covert wipe-my-nose-hoping-you'll-get-the-picture-deal. I'm gonna say, "you have something dangling from your nose." Because it's not a big deal to just say what it is. And I don't pay enough attention to body language to figure out subliminal messages. That's why, along with a few other reasons, I chose not to major in comparative literature (there was never a question that I would do anything INSANE like that...I'm just trying some dry humor on for size).

Another thing about me, which I'm guessing most people who are reading this already know, is that I am pretty un-ambitious when it comes to the career subject. I've always thought of this as a fault. Like something was totally wrong with me. Because almost everyone else around me is career driven. Not me. I'm in it for the beer. Ok, well, really I'm in it for only God knows why. Anyway, I had a revelation earlier--I'm not so sure that something is wrong with me being wishy-washy about what I want to do job-wise. A job will never define me, I've realized. I'm too ambitious for that to be the case.

In times of distress, people tend to throw themselves into something that distracts them from what is really bugging them. For most folks, that something seems to be work. If you stay busy all day at work, you "don't have time" to worry about the bigger picture. But what happens if that's what a persons whole life is--throwing themselves into work so he/she doesn't worry about the big picture. What if, come retirement age, you realize you've been avoiding living your life, but rather, have just been workin it (and not in the sexy way).

I'm obviously not saying that we should all join in a mass exodus from work. Some people really do get a sense of satisfaction from their work while others have to pay bills. I'm just advocating that we don't pigeon hole our lives into the narrow time frame of 8-5. I want to be a mom one day, and I want to be a wife. But those are not going to be the only two things I want to be. They won't define who I am. They will simply be roles I perform.

My New Year's (recaped in pictures)

Me and Rebecca towards the end of the night.

Me and Rebecca at the start of the night.

Me and La-La-La-La-Lilly!!! (you have to say it like you have a speech impediment and really loud to make it funny or you can be lame and just say Lilly).

Time well wasted....

(I wrote this post the other day (so I'm re-writing now) but the computer deleted it before I could post it...lemme tell you, I just love technology). On Tuesday, thanks to temporary unemployment, the most productive thing I did was to jog a mile and climb a mountain with Rebecca. We made brownies, too, but they were the kind you just add a little water and oil to and pop in the oven so that's not all that productive. Anyway, we sat on the couch in front of the tv all afternoon. Luckily for us, there was a two-hour "E True Hollywood Story" on Married...With Children so I'm good to go with any Al Bundy trivia you might have stored up in your back pocket. Yeah, I didn't think so....Good times.

I watched the championship game the other night. Yup, all the way through the fourth quarter. Being that Florida is any true Georgia fans arch-nemisis, it felt weird cheering for them. But it beats the hell out of cheering for Ohio--who in their right mind would do a crazy thing like that (oh, I'm sorry Jellybean--did you cry very hard at the end?). Seriously, my sister is an OSU fan. We grew up in Georgia. The only ties that we have with the state is that our dad has lived there for a few years. And people say I'm the weird one.

Anyway, I figured out that I actually do like watchin college football, if I care who wins. Weird, I know. I mean, I don't even know what a blitz is...and I wouldn't pay attention to anyone if they tried explainin it to me because I'm sure I'd get bored. But I do know what a hail mary is so I think we're good to go on that front.

So now that I no longer have a sugar-daddy, I figured I'd better get my ducks in a row and get me some ambitions. And I came up with a badass career--I want to be a spokesperson for Budlight. Granted, not one of those chickadees wearing a teeny-tiny bikini and pouring foamy beer all over myself. That would be all wrong for me--I have too high a respect for beer to just waste it in that fashion (even if that beer is Budlight, you beer snobs). I just want to be in a commerical where I'm sitting on a couch, smiling, wearing an XL Hershel jersey, a Budlight in hand, and Georgia whoopin Tennessee on the TV. How awesome would that be?

Ok, this post is a little too masculine. Pantys.

Problem fixed.

Extra, extra

I don't watch the news. It's always the same shit just on a different day--mom kills 3 children, pedophile kidnaps 4 girls, bank robbers shot and killed, old lady lays biggest terd of century. Today I found some more entertaining headlines:

Cops: Mail delivered through snow, sleet and boozy haze

Story Highlights• Mail carrier had blood alcohol nearly four times the legal limit, police say• Carrier was charged after crashing delivery truck• Officials say he was 'incoherent' when he returned to the post office

Happy Feet? Sex next for rescued 'Groucho Marx' penguin
Zoo wants male from vulnerable species to mate with lonely females

Austrian World Cup star loses bet, skis naked

Scoop: Britney's stylist says ‘don't blame me’

Virginia School Fires Butt-Print Art Teacher

Stephen Murmer's abstract artwork includes smearing his posterior and genitals with paint and pressing them against canvas.

"Chesterfield lost a tremendous asset today," Jason Anthony, Murmer's attorney, said.

burn your bras, bitches!

I'd like to thank Gloria Steinem for helping to create a world in which this picture could be taken inside of a woman's restroom, not a man's.

There's gotta be somethin more

New year, new blog. Seems fitting. And I'm sure as hell tired of this privacy bullshit. I bet you are too. It's a bummer that I'm such a badass that I have stalkers and have to put up privacy walls around my little puddle of brain-puke which is my blog, but hey, what can you do? When you're hot, you're hot (lick, touch, sizzle).

My buddy Adam inspired the link. He calls me a strange bird. I take it as a compliment. I don't think he means it as one.

Today is the Eastern Orthodox Christmas. We celebrated with a bunch of folks and it was awesome. Drank a lot of wine. It's worn off now. Too bad because I was in peak entertainment mode earlier. Now I feel like the guy who kept saying "Buller? Buller?" in Ferris Buller's Day Off.

Today also marks another totally and utterly exciting day. One more month until Lost starts again! Oh shut up, quit tryin to act like you're not all excited too. But you can laugh at me for being such a nerd that I keep up with things like that.

You can check out my pictures from the bowl game and duck hunting with Joshua on my shutterfly page (the link should be on my blog now). There are some pretty entertainin ones.