Oh, Baby

So yeah, I had a pregnancy scare last week. Internet, I tell you it was a scare because I am not pregnant. So please stop knitting those booties, and planning those awesome virtual baby showers you were going to throw for me (although if you would like to send me some cash or Target gift certificates e-mail me, I'll be happy to give you my address). I've been really sick all week. A week full of headaches, nausea, and general ickiness. Seriously I don't remember ever feeling that bad, for that long in forever. I even left class early the other night, and I never leave class early. I'm just that nerdy.

The ickiness is most likely attributed to the fact that I'm not sleeping. I mean I almost got a full night's rest the other night, but I was awoken by screaming, fighting neighbors at 5.a.m. And when I heard the shouting, I couldn't just roll over and go back to sleep, no I'm too nosey for that. I needed to hear every, "I f***** HATE YOU, I F***** LOVE YOU, LEAVE, and I'M CALLING THE COPS (please do so I can go back to bed). So due to my neighbors who we will call "Mr. and Mrs. Obviously More Madly in Love than Any Other Couple in the Universe," my insomnia stretches on. I do see the the light at the end of the tunnel (and its not a train), but I've spent a lot of time feeling like I was hit by a wrecking ball that knocked me into a swimming pool full of sharks.

But there were some people out there (mean people in the business of freaking me out), who made me feel that nausea wasn't a symptom of insomnia. And then Adam casually mentioned, mostly as a joke, that I might be pregnant. WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THAT. A real knee slapper, that one is. If I was pregnant, we would most likely have to move home. We are barely getting by now, so a move to the South, where the cost of living is much lower, would be in order. Plus as much as I think I want to have children in the future (maybe, hopefully, so not sure), I am definitely not ready right now. I am enjoying being young and married without kids for now. And there is no shoving that baby back inside after it pops out (awesome visual right?).

I want to say how honestly unlikely it would be that I was pregnant. We are really, really safe. Although I'm not going to say how because I don't want to hear your horror stories about how your friend's roommate baby mama got pregnant that way. I'm paranoid enough. Plus, who wants to hear about what old, boring, married couples do anyway? Also, I have poly-cystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) which makes everything a bit more complicated. This is why this pregnancy scare might make me seem slightly like a hypochondriac.

But before you dismiss me as a crazy nut ball, just know that I have seen every episode of I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. And I've seen those women get pregnant because a man simply looked at them. So as soon as the pregnancy idea was rudely implanted in my brain, I turned to the almighty google. Typing in things like, "What are the odds you can pregnant while going down a slip & slide at 30 mph?" Kidding, but that is totally my new fantasy! I really was just googling symptoms, and the likelihood of getting pregnant with this form of birth control and PCOS. I quickly realized I was googling the same questions posed by 14 year old girls. Also, google did nothing to assuage my fears, it just served to make me more of a mess than I was before. 

I decided unless I wanted to be like one of those women on I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant, I better take a test. Or in a few months I would be popping out that baby on a boat, in the toilet, or maybe at a three-ringed circus. Which lead us to Target on Saturday, trying to decide on the merits of different pregnancy tests. Or I was trying to decide on a pregnancy test while Adam was in a another aisle pretending not to know me (he hates that aisle, what an awful baby daddy he would be LOL). I picked one out, and we got the other stuff we needed. But some reason I felt self-conscious about buying the test. Not that it matters, I'm 24 and married!

When we were checking out, Adam had put the test under some stuff, and I insisted on putting it front and center. So that she didn't remove the stuff, see the test, and think we were hiding it. Also, when she asked us how we were doing, I acted really chirpy, so she would think I was happy about this. Once we checked out, I decided I didn't want to take the test at Target because I wouldn't want to get the news there. So we went on our day, running all our errands. But about an hour later, I really had to pee. The logical side of me said that would be fine, I could go to the bathroom now, and take the test later. But the crazy side of me that rules my life, made me think if I didn't take the test now, I might never be able to pee again. So I had no choice.

The store we were at didn't have a bathroom, so I ended up sprinting across four lanes of traffic to use the bathroom at the Arby's. Super, super classy.  That would make a great story for our future offspring. It seemed like it took forever to get the results, but eventually it said, "not pregnant."

I wasn't as relieved as I thought I would be. Sure, I knew it was for the best. We don't have to move or put my academic career on hold. But a small part of me was kind of thinking about how wonderful it would be to be a mother. Not that I'm going to be jumping on the baby train anytime soon. But these maternal feelings were something completely new to me. I haven't always been certain I wanted to be a mother. So in a way, I'm kind of glad to know that the want to have a baby is somewhere within me. Even if it is buried WAY DOWN DEEP. Somewhere underneath my need to have a cocktail with dinner and sleep in on everyday ending in Y.

Life Hacks

These are just a few pearls of wisdom I can pass down to my offspring one day (I hate the word off spring):

1. Let the Kool-aid sit a few hours after making it. It tastes better.
2. Many restaurants will go ahead and put your name on the wait list if you call ahead of time.
3. A mashed strawberry and 1 tsp of baking soda makes a great teeth whitener.
4. Hang your clothes up in the bathroom while showering and you won't have to iron them.
5. If you have to do a research project, find one good article on your subject. Then just use that article's bibliography section to find all the research you need. 
6. Before you ask your significant other to change a behavior of theirs that annoys you, ask them for one behavior of yours they would like you to change. Then, they feel less defensive.
7. Gatorade and extra sleep is the best cure for a hangover.
8. Movies are half price, if you are willing to go the the first showing of the day (like 11 or 12 a.m.).
9. When you have a nasty pimple, put toothpaste on the pimple for 20 minutes. It reduces the size almost immediately.
10. If you have an ear infection and have to use ear drops, lay on your side with desired ear facing upwards. Drop in medicine, and pull on your ear lobe for 30 seconds. Then, rub the back of your ear for a minute or so,  really letting the medicine sink in. This ensures that all the medicine gets to the infection. Makes for a faster healing time. Also good for ear infection prevention.
11. When you check in electronically at the airport, choose a row with two empty seats next to each other.  This is your best shot at getting two seats all to yourself.
12. The red properties are the most valuable in Monopoly.

What are your life hacks?

Kowabunga, Dudes?

This is the building Adam works in. It is a very pretty building, and a very tall building in downtown Long Beach.  However, I think it is very lame that while he works in a 25 floor building, he works on the 1st floor. No one ever wants to be on the first floor. It is like when you go to summer camp or church camp and you have to race the other children to the cabin because everyone wants the top bunk. And if you happen to be one of the unlucky ones who doesn't get the top bunk, you have to lay in your bottom bunk and stare longingly at the bunk above you every night, knowing that their life is currently better than yours. Or at least you know they have a better view than you because they are probably looking at those plastic glow in the dark stars.

But shock of all shocks, Adam loves that his office is on the first floor.  That first time he told me that, I was really surprised because I thought it was impossible to not want to be on the top floor. But you know why he likes to be on the bottom floor? He worries about earthquakes.  I get it I do, Southern California has many earthquakes, and I have been in many small ones since I moved here. When we do have earthquakes, his entire building sways and creaks. I tried telling him that is a good thing. Buildings built today are made to sway, so the likelihood that they will crumble during a earthquake is reduced. My logical approach doesn't help him feel any better, although I imagine a creaking building is pretty creepy. And his reasoning is that if a major earthquake hits, he will be safer because he is closer the the ground, but I think he is wrong. OK, I know he is wrong.

I think it would be better to be on the top floor, because if the building started to crumble, you could just kind of surf the debris down. Grab on to a door or a desk and just hold on. KOWABUNGA, Dudes. If you are on the bottom floor, aren't you going to be crushed by the 24 floors above you? The only support for his argument, in my eyes, is that maybe you would have more time to leave the building if you were on the first floor. I will give him that, and ONLY THAT, but that is not really his argument.  So I feel he is dead wrong. 

We have discussed the merit of top floor vs. bottom floor in earthquakes many, many times. This conversation seems to be so important to us, that we have brought our arguments to friends and families, and we can't seem to get anybody to completely agree with either of us. Some people are Team Brittany! And some people are Team Adam! Frankly, I only count the people who are Team Brittany. (By the way, Team Brittany vs. Team Adam will be a lot more popular than Team Edward vs. Team Jacob, and will be a national phenomenon soon. Although I am not a fan of Twilight, never read the books, or seen a movie. But I would totally be Team Jacob because Edward looks like he needs a blood transfusion. I guess that is why he is a VAMPIRE). So in the great earthquake argument of 2010, are you Team Brittany or Team Adam?

Guesting (Like Ghosting But Less Fun)

I don't actually know what ghosting is. Is that what they do on those paranormal  ghost hunting shows where they screech and jump at things the audience never actually sees? If that isn't what ghosting is, the word ghosting actually sounds kind of dirty. Which I'd be all for if the ghost looks like the actor who played the human Casper in the movie Casper way back in the 90's.  Because I think he was my first ever crush, followed closely by Jonathon Taylor Thomas (the name J.T.T still gives me butterflies). However, I think that still lusting after the child version of these actors is slightly pedophilic.  Look I made a new word PEDOPHILIC. Coming soon to a dictionary near you!

Wow, I totally lost the point of this post. Thoughts of J.T.T do that to me. I wrote a guest post for my friend Date Girl at Date Girl Diaries.  She's getting married soon, so she asked me to do a little something on wedding planning or weddings (since I survived one). Which got me all sorts of excited because my wedding was 16 months ago (holy fire balls, I can't believe it has been that long), and I haven't had much of a reason to talk weddings in a while. So I did a run down on my top moments of being a PanicZilla, not a bridezilla, I was never a bridezilla.  So for funny stories never written about here, head over there, and give a girl some comment love.

Currently Employed as a Champion Slacker & Napper

I recently wrapped up working until next fall because the school year is ending, so there isn't much work for a tutor. Even if they are a brilliant, beautiful, and amazing tutor like me. In some ways this is bad, Adam and I really have to be careful with our money now, and we can't afford to do a ton of fun things. But on the plus side, I really, really love all the free time. I get up early most mornings, and I drop Adam off at work before heading off to the gym. But I find that I have to keep my grumpiness in check with him, because I had forgotten just how much of a morning person I am not.

I remember back in my middle school days, my mother would come into my bedroom and wake me up after she had already put breakfast on the table. And she wasn't even allowed to talk to me until after I had breakfast and had gotten dressed, because I could be so grumpy. But in defense of my crabby apple self; my mother is a bizarro breed of species known as the morning person. So by the time I had woken up, she would have already had two cups of coffee, cleaned the kitchen, and accomplished world domination. That kind of chirpiness deserves to be punished.

Once I get to gym, I work really hard. Not really working hard at exercising, but working hard not to ever fall off that treadmill again. I swear every time I get on that evil machine now I am convinced I'm going to fall off again. I'm having non stop traumatic flashbacks. But despite my treadmill walking fears, I have something to celebrate because in the last four weeks I've lost 17 lbs! And all the crunches I've been doing are giving me abs, actual abs! Like I have lines on my stomach. Those abs have made me so vain, because I spend so much darn time starting at them.

After I get home, I try to be a good kid, by actually working on some homework. Sometimes I am successful, and sometimes I even manage to finish my homework days in advance. And what do I do when I finish early? I take to facebook to brag to my fellow classmate and good friend A., because I need validation that I am better than him. I'm totally kidding, well I do brag, but not for that reason. Adam and I are good friends with him and his wife, and we go out on double dates all the time. A. and I have a very braggy and snark filled relationship. Plus, I am just better than him. Am I kidding? You decide.

Whether I work-out or not, do homework or not, I typically allot some time in the afternoon for napping. I currently hold a gold medal in napping (along with holding the gold medal for knowing all lyrics to every Vanilla Ice song, tripping over my feet, and busting a move at random intervals). Is there anything better than curling up in the most comfortable bed in the world, your dog snoring next to you, and sleeping an hour or so? I think not. In fact, I've become so devoted to my afternoon naps, that I get mad when I can't have one. The other day I had to stay up because I was waiting for UPS to deliver Adam's birthday gift, and by the end of the day I was as grumpy as a toddler.

But my napping is also causing me guilt. You see Adam accidentally threw out our 2010 census form, and then I read that California had one of the worst Census turnout numbers in the whole country. And I've been feeling super guilty for a while now, thinking about how all the little California kids wouldn't get the education they needed, and how there wouldn't be enough city buses or hospitals all because Adam threw away the stupid form! But then I found out that they are going door to door, and was relieved. I figured I wouldn't be responsible for ruining the kid’s future anymore! But they keep coming by in the afternoon, when I'm asleep. And every time I wake up and see one of those blue "We Stopped By" census forms on the door, I feel like I'm being chastised for my lazy behaviors. Yet I won't sacrifice my naps, those poor, poor children.

I attend class once a week, and even though it is my only commitment, I still feel like it is intruding on my Me Me Me Me Time. A feeling I never had when I worked all day and then went to class. But the truth is I'm still really loving school. OK sometimes I find myself sobbing to Adam in the bedroom and saying, "What if I can't pass Graduate Portfolio 2!" "I'll never be able to complete my practicum......" "What if I suck at this." Being a therapist has really been my only career ambition (other than wanted to grow up to be a "Vegetarian" when I was five) for so long, that the thought of failing is terrifying. But the more I learn about counseling, the more I know this is for me. And that is rewarding. Plus in what other degree program can you spend 20 minutes talking about whether or not hugging your clients is appropriate?

Other plans for this summer? A trip home to Alabama to spend some time with my mother and friends. A friend's wedding in Atlanta. Gosh, I love me some weddings. My nieces coming out to visit (ut oh I have to entertain two teenagers). But other than that, I'm looking forward to a summer full of napping and slacking.

Making Mama Proud!

Someone just found my blog by searching "Goddesses Party Toilet!" I have finally ARRIVED.

Random Thoughts I’ve Had This Week

"Did Adam just really say he would actually still wear the Hammer Pants Circa M.C. Hammer from the 80s in public? And he wasn't kidding? I think that is grounds for divorce."

"Don't fall off the treadmill again, Don't fall off the treadmill again."

"Now that I'm done working for the summer, I sure watch a whole lot of Game Shows. Maybe Game shows is my own version of the typical housewife that watches Soap Operas and The Oprah Winfrey Show. Like Housewives 3.0."

"Does my dog really love me? Or does she only love me because I've held her captive for so long. Sorta like Stockholm Syndrome."

"My mother is not taking my calls today, she obviously doesn't love me anymore. This is definitely influencing the cost of her mother's day gift."

"I can’t believe I set the timer on the oven and forgot to actually put the chicken in the oven. Good Job, Brittany! Way to waste gas and time!"

Mortified Times Two

You know how sometimes the "What is Your Most Embarrassing Moment?" question can come up in a conversation? Usually everyone talks about saying something stupid in front of a crowd, or passing a little wind in front of a crush. Well I've always had the same old stock answer beginning with, "This one time in Middle School Band." This surprisingly is not as cool as saying, “This One Time at Band Camp." I played flute throughout my middle school career, this makes me an ex-flautist or a flautist in recovery. Does anyone else think that "flautist" doesn't even sound like a real word? I had to google "flautist" just to verify that I didn’t just make that word up. Anyway, I was actually a pretty good flautist, but my nervousness always got in my way. I would get so nervous before tryouts that I was always tripping over my notes. My band director told me I was the most nervous student he ever had! My anxiety is why I dropped out of band after middle school never to be a flautist again.

The hardest part of telling this story is describing the band room. Our band room had graduated levels just like in the picture above. But our band room's levels were much taller. The first level was a foot off the ground, the second level was two feet off the ground, and the third level was three feet off the ground, and so on. One day we were practicing some song for regionals, and I was sitting on the last seat of the third level. Can you see where this is heading? Half-way through the song I must have shifted my seat some how, because I could feel the leg of my chair begin to tip over the edge. I'm sure all of this happened in a nano second, but in my mind it was like slow motion. For some reason (I guess I thought it would anchor me), I grabbed the music stand as I started to fall. So now not only was I falling, music was flying everyone, and I come down with a big, metal sounding clang.

The people who were sitting next to me immediately stopped playing and broke into fits of laughter. One by one every section in the band caught on to what was going on and they started laughing to. Even the band conductor who was trying to keep the band going eventually had to give up and was laughing. And I'm just lying on the floor in shock, trying to figure out how I'm going to pick my wounded pride up off the floor. That day all day everyone kept asking me about it, and I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. Me falling those three feet was the biggest thing that happened in band class until some boys were rough housing and broke a window by knocking a tuba through it.

That truly was my most embarrassing day until last Friday.

So recently I joined a gym, because I find it really easy to diet and exercise during the summer. This is because I'm not working a whole lot, and I lack the disposable income to eat lots of junk food. I lost 30 lbs last summer, and pretty much kept it off during the year  (other than about five pounds). So I'm hoping to lose 30 more lbs this summer.

In the mornings Adam and I carpool together because my gym and his office are only a few blocks apart. But Friday morning I was feeling particularly lazy. I figured I shouldn't have to walk to the gym since I was going to go work-out anyway. I mean come on I don't want to risk squeezing in any extra calorie burn, that would be ridiculous. So I had Adam drop me off at the gym before he went on to work. This one decision would set off a disastrous chain of events that I would later regret.

Flash forward 50 minutes later, I'm killing it on the treadmill, listening to the Glee Cast do Madonna on the iPod. I was thinking about the show The Biggest Loser, and how they do the sprints on the treadmill and then immediately stop by jumping to the edge (without stopping the belt). That always amazes me, because I would be terrified that I would miss the edge and fall on the treadmill. And the treadmill would take me back and I would hit the wall. Ouch. So as I was pondering this, I glance out the window, and I see a man running down the plaza stairs that lead to the gym. My thought pattern went like this- "Why is that man running down the stairs? Hey, that man is wearing the same shirt that my husband was wearing this morning. Wait, that man looks kinda like my husband. Oh wait, that is my husband!"

I'm neither an optimist nor a pessimist, I’m just a fatalist. I always think something really tragic is going to happen. Like pianos falling from the sky kind of tragic. To me, the glass is neither half empty nor half full. Nope, I think the glass got so tired of trying to decide what it was, that it jumped off the ledge of the Empire State Building. So I'm thinking Adam is coming to tell me someone died, the house is on fire, or Sarah choked on a bone, and I'm freaking out a little bit. So he enters the gym and is taking forever to find me (later he said it was all the mirrors). So I call out to him loudly, and he doesn't hear me. So now everyone is looking at the loud girl on the treadmill. Remember that, everyone is staring at me! I look behind me and am about to call out to him again, when I feel myself start to trip. And just like all those years ago in the band room, everything is moving in slow motion.

I'm holding on to the bars for dear life, as the treadmill is pulling me backwards. I fell down once and was miraculously able to pull myself up halfway. Later, Adam told me it looked like I was doing the possessed version of the white guy's dance the running man. But inevitably I went down, and the treadmill took me down and threw me off. I didn't want someone helping me up, so I hopped right back on the horse err treadmill. And now I feel like I am just going to die of embarrassment. Now Adam is standing next to me, and I can just tell by the look on his face that it was just as humiliating as I thought it was. And do you know why he was at the gym in the first place? He had to give me the car keys, because he had dropped me off, and we didn't think about how I would need the car keys to get home!

I had 10 minutes left on the treadmill before ending my work out, but I really just wanted to slink off and crawl into my gym locker. But I stuck it out, and it was the longest 10 minutes I've ever spent working out.

Hey Big Spenders!

Adam and I have never made any big, adult purchases since we've been together. But come to think of it, I haven't really made any adult purchases on my own (unless you count plunging myself into thousands of dollars into debt for my edumacation). We didn't even purchase the bed we sleep in. When we moved in together, my mother bought us a really nice bed as a house warming gift. This is kind of ironic, because originally she was really against me "living in sin." Once in high school, when I was dating my first serious boyfriend, she told me I could do other things while fooling around but I was not to have sex. I could not have been more uncomfortable in that conversation even if beforehand my mother had broken all my fingers one by one. After that talk, I think I did lose interest in the "other things" for a quite awhile. I bet that was her plan all along! Sly move, mother.

A few months ago, Adam and I spent sometime hanging out with my friend Albert from school and his wife. They had a huge flat screen TV, and since then Adam has wanted a new TV. He has been obsessed, like driving me insane obsessed. I asked him why he never mentioned wanting a new TV before we went to Albert's and he said, "I always wanted a big TV, but seeing theirs made it a reality." Say, what? But we had been saving for quite a while for new couches because our couches were horrible. Adam got those couches used from a friend years ago, and they were OK at the time (barely), but they had eventually morphed into uncomfortable and stained couches that to me looked like saggy, green ogre boobs. Kinda like how Fiona from Shrek's boobs would look after she had spent years breastfeeding 10 little ogre babies.

So now all of sudden Adam is telling me he wants to take the money saved to buy couches to buy a new TV, and I wasn't having it. I wanted couches! Just something comfortable, that looks nice in the room,  Plus, I don't really get the fascination with having a big TV. Believe me, I love me some reality TV, a.k.a brain rot, but as long as I have a TV to watch it on, I don't really care how big or nice it is. Am I right or am I the only one? But eventually I gave into Adam, because honestly I love making people happy. I'm the happy helper lady, it is just what I do. This is why I'm in school to become a therapist.

So last Sunday we went to Best Buy to buy the TV, and we did buy the TV. I was actually starting to get kind of excited about the TV. I guess watching Heidi Klum say," That Means Your Out," might be even better on a big screen in High Definition. Since we were running around town, we figured it wouldn't hurt to go and at least glance in Living Spaces. Maybe it was the leftover endorphins from buying the TV talking, but we decided we could possibly, maybe afford one couch that day and then buy its match later on. But we soon quickly discovered that we had widely differing taste. I like bright colors and he only wanted brown. So I would suggest blue and Adam would look really disgusted. Then I would suggest red and he would say that red was, "too seventies." *rolls eyes* I also learned that picking out a couch color can make me oddly emotional. But heck, sometimes I cry at commercials.

We finally decided on a shade of brown I didn’t hate, and a couch that had two built in recliners. We were debating buying that couch, and talking to the salesperson. He said that we should be aware that Living Spaces rotated their furniture sets often, and we might not be able to get its match later on. I started panicking because the thought of not having matching furniture suddenly sounded like the worst thing that could ever happen to me. "I've watched too much HGTV to allow that!" I cried! So I convinced Adam that we just had to get both couches, and that we could afford it as long as we didn't eat anything at all for the next few months. I also might have guilt tripped him a little by hanging one big, flat screen TV that I allowed him to buy over his head.

After we paid for the furniture, we weren't really excited like I imagined we would be. Walking out of Living Spaces we both had huge lumps in our throats. I know it’s not as expensive as a car or a new house, but for us it was a lot of money. I mean we had just spent more money in one day than we do in a couple of months! We kept looking at each other with a deer in the headlights look asking, "Are You Excited Yet?" But once the buyer's remorse wore off, we really did start looking forward to delivery.

The couches arrived yesterday and we love them. I'm still not crazy about the brown color, but I think I can offset it with bringing other colors into the room. But I have to give props to Adam because having couches that recline was a totally inspired idea. So freakin comfortable. And watching reality TV on the big screen? Totally Amazing.

So now I'm having fun sending Adam messages at work like, “I bet I'm more comfortable than you right now!” Which let’s face it, I totally am.

All the Single Ladies!

[I've been following Date Girl @ Date Girl Diaries pretty much since she started her blog (ironically a day after I began mine!). I followed her when she was single lady, up until she began dating her now husband-to-be Match. She has a wonderful blog, and we've become great blog friends. So when I thought it might be fun to have a guest blogger, she was the first person that came to mind! So I hope you enjoy it, and you better check out her blog also! I demand it (well, strongly suggest it). OR ELSE.
P.S.-If you've been having trouble commenting, I fixed it so you can. I had an annoying troll, so I adjusted the settings for a few days. He seems to have moved on now.]

Hey lovelies,

Miss Britt has asked me to do a guest post on her blog while she's off gallivanting on her honeymoon with Adam. Lucky girl! I was nervous because let's face it, Brittany's entries are always so fun and entertaining, and I didn't want to disappoint you all. In honor of Brittany and Adam's marriage, I decided to go with an old entry about what I hate about being single since neither of them have to ever worry about these headaches again. :-)

Oh no, no, no, don’t go! I’ve scared ya. I said too much. I’m hopeless and awkward and desperate for love! – Chandler, Friends

When Match and I got together, we talked about how much we hated the dating scene. We were both ready for a serious relationship, and we just wanted to be out of the date game. I thought it’d be fun to list the top things I hate about dating and being single in general.

1. Stressing Out- First dates suck, period. When I found Match, we had a great first date, but that great first date is so rare. 90% of the time you're checking your cell phone every five minutes wondering when this torture is going to end.

2. Games-Don’t call, don’t act too interested. Do call, but be aloof. When to play it cool, when to show you care. It’s all so damn confusing. If I like a person, I just want to be able to tell them. Enough of the games!

3. The Gray Area-it’s that period of time where you really don’t know where you stand. Are you a couple? Are you exclusive? Can you go on other dates if asked? I don’t think I’m alone in my hatred for this unknown.

4. Waiting-waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting for the second date invitation. Waiting for him to kiss me. Waiting for him to call me his girlfriend. I’m way too impatient for all of those things.

5. The Let Down-when I have had those rare occasions of a great first date, and then the next time out is a complete let down. It’s that ohhhhh moment, when the deal breakers come out.

6. Finding Out the Truth-You know the type: he starts off amazing, and you think, this is it, this is THE guy for me. And then the real him comes out, and he’s really a complete ass.

7. Loneliness-In between dates, when I was single, I spent a lot of my time alone. Eating dinners by myself is depressing, and I hate sleeping alone.

8. Being a Third Wheel-We all have those well meaning friends, those couples that invite us out. “Come along, it’ll be fun, you won’t feel like a third wheel at all!” Yeah right. Sorry, but no matter how hard friends try, if you’re single, its obvious, and a part of you is always going to feel awkward in a room full of couples.

So that’s my basic list of things I hated about being single and the dating world. What do (did) you hate about being single?

Ho Fo' Sho

One night back in my freshmen year of college, I was joking around with my group of friends at a Wal-mart that we were all a group of Hoes. So as a joke we numbered ourselves "Ho Number One, Ho Number Two," and I happened to be Ho Number Four. This was quickly shortened to "HoFo." Later that same night, I was separated from the group by accident. So my friends had an employee page Brittany "Hofo" Ervin over the loud speaker. I was so embarrassed, and I high tailed it out of the store without ever meeting up with my friends! I learned a very important lesson that night: being alone in Wal-mart is a dangerous thing. But the nick name stuck, and now all my college friends call me HoFo. I have grown to appreciate the name, and I miss hearing my friends say it everyday.

A few weeks ago I got this glass as a gift from a friend in the mail. She found it at Spencer's and its part of the Pimp Stein collection. LOL I'm so proud of my Ho Fo Sho cup. But you guys don't get to start calling me HoFo now.

Oh, Nine

Fireworks in Long Beach

2009 is one for the history books. It will forever be the year that I got married, but it is also the year I started graduate school, saw Richard Simmons at LAX, got stung by a sting ray, moved into a new home, and had my first Christmas in California. I fell even more in love with my husband, and finally cut loose toxic family members who were always chipping away at my happiness. My nephew Caden was born, which was the biggest blessing that was ever bestowed on my family. His birth lead my brother to give up drugs and alcohol, and I've watched him became the man I've always known he could be. I lost 35 lbs and kept it off. I conquered my fear of the freeway. I have laughed more and cried more in 2009 than any other year of my life. This year I've become that much closer to learning to accept myself for exactly who I am. I am so optimistic for 2010, I just have a feeling it is going to be brilliant.

Design Fun: The Bedroom Edition

So last week I did living rooms, so now I thought I showcase some of my fave bedrooms. I like fun, bright colors, but I also like some pretty classic stuff.

Santa Degradation and Other Thoughts

We went to the mall today, to pick up various items that we needed. A process that I dreaded because the mall will be packed from here to Christmas, and there is nothing less fun than shopping in a crowd. First, we went to Target to print out photos for our up coming court case. Oh I probably haven't mention that before, because of the ridiculousness of this case, but lets just say our previous landlords are big butts. * Grumble*. Next we went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and Hallmark to look at Christmas decoration type stuff. Do you know that they sell Christmas themed toilet covers? I found a picture to prove it. This is so wrong, on so many levels. It is degrading to Santa. Sadly I could see my mother buying this.


My mother's house every year looked like Christmas exploded. She even has a snowman cover for her computer monitor. Even though I have always teased her about it, it is exactly the kind of house you would want to wake up in on Christmas morning. And she always had other ways of making Christmas extra special. One year she had ordered some teddy bear for me from a catalog, and when it arrived the nose was mushed in. So she put a letter in my stocking from Santa, apologizing for letting Rudolph step on my bear. I could care less about the crushed nose, because I had a letter from Santa! Not just any letter, but an apology letter. Score.
Last year I spent Christmas with Adam's family in Wisconsin, and while I enjoyed the snow and the company- I missed my family. We had always planned to go home to see my family this year, but as luck (see stupid court case) and finances would have it, I'm the only one that can afford to go home. So I'm flying home alone on December 19th and staying through the 23rd. My family and I are just going to celebrate a few days early. Because if it can be helped at all, I will never spend Christmas without Adam. At first, I was a little disappointed that he would not get to experience the Ervin Christmas Extravagance. But then my mom decided to send us her old Christmas tree, and we purchased three matching stockings (one for each of us, and one for the pooch). We don't have a lot of money for gifts this year, but I'm really looking forward to our quiet little Christmas together. And and excited about forming our own Christmas traditions.
P.S-I rolled out my annual Christmas blog layout. I hope you like.

Gobble, Gobble

I know we have years of Thanksgiving dinners ahead of us. Thanksgiving dinners where we will be surrounding by our family and kids. Thanksgiving dinners where we will cook a lot more food. But I will always remember our first Thanksgiving dinner together. Watching football, eating turkey, taking naps, and playing the Mario on the Wii. It was lovely.

If I Had Married a Rich Man

I spent most of today watching HGTV, and daydreaming about what I would do with my house if I had some extra crash. (OK so I was really thinking about getting rid of the couches). These are some of the designs I really, really love. I'm not sure if I love or hate the last one, I defintly know Adam wouldn't go for it. But I don't care what he thinks :)

Tripping in My Sleep

The other night I dreamed Adam and I got in the car, drove to the grocery store we always go to, parked in the same row we always park in, got the same style of buggy we always get, and went in to get our groceries. At the store we said things to each other like, "I'll go get the chicken," and "Don't forgot that we need milk." This dream is only remarkable due to its unremarkability.

I usually have really scary dreams. Even if the dream doesn't make any logical sense, it can still be scary. I've dreamt about people baking their children into cupcakes and me accidentally eating them, my mother burring thousands of people she had killed in our front yard, and my parents forcing me to drive straight into a tornado. I spend the first half hour after I wake up basking in the relief of knowing it was only a dream.

The other type of dreams I have are the really realistic dreams. When I was in high school, my mom would wake me up to get ready for school, and occasionally I would fall back asleep. And I would then dream I got up, got breakfast, and got dressed before I would be rudely awakened again by my mother. I have a reoccurring dream about getting to the end of a school semester, and finding out I was enrolled in a class that I never knew about, which I am failing.When I have that dream, I have to log on to my school website to make sure that isn't true. It is that terrorizing. I also dream that Adam and I have these terrible fights that keep me mad at him for a few hours after I wake up. And yes I do hold him accountable for the things he does to me in his dreams. He should know better.

I only started having really vivid dreams in high school when I started taking anti-depressants (its a side effect). Before I dreamed in black and white, and now my dreams are in vivid Technocolor (just like Joesph's Dream Coat). But I hope I have more dreams about me doing things like grocery shopping. Maybe tonight I can dream about getting up, going to work, going to school, and coming back home. That would be lovely.

Nostalgia

What I Miss About Childhood:

Playing Hide and Seek. Catching Fireflies. Sitting at the Kid's Table. Candy Land. Sesame Street. Believing in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny. Disney Movies. Happy Meals. Tea Parties. Skating Rink Parties. Boxcar Children Books. Trapper Keepers. Lisa Frank. Icy Pops. Snick.

What I Miss About Adolescence:

Sleep Overs. Photography Class. My 10th Grade History Teacher. My Posse (friends). First Baptist Youth Group. Military Ball. First Love. Yearbook Signing. Summer Vacation. Friday Morning Breakfastes with my Mother. Being Color Guard Commander. The Used Book Store. London. Christmas Caroling.

What I Miss About College:

First Taste of Freedom. Late Night Donut Runs. Playing Hooky. Volunteering at Hearts Tutoring Center. Being a Part of a Book Club that Never Read the Books. Dr. Roth's Lectures. Hunch Punch. Falling in Love with my Husband. Israel. My Pink Dorm Room. Earning my Nickname, Hofo. Competitive Board Games. The 5th Floor Kincannon Misfits. Building Ginger Bread Houses in February.

What I Love About Now:

Learning What it Means to Be a Wife. Cuddling with my Golden. Getting a Master's Degree. Being Financially Independent. Conquering my Freeway Fear. Living One Mile from the Beach. Friday Night Dinners. Making New Friends. Living in California without Losing my Southern Identity. Working with Wonderful Children. Knowing that My Life Turned Out so Much Richer than I Could Have Ever Imagined.

From the Mind of a Three Year Old

I was watching the travel channel the other night, and a show called Extreme Restaurants came on. They had a bunch of interesting restaurants on there. One was called Ninja and it is located in New York. Basically Ninjas jump out and scare the ever loving peace out of you. That sounds so not fun to me, I hate being scared, and I would be a basket case by the time I left. Just ask my mom how I once turned around and ran out of a Haunted House 30 seconds after I had entered it. And how she didn't want to ask for her money back because it was for charity. So no thanks Ninja restaurant.

The second restaurant they featured was a little disturbing. It is called Modern Toilet and the original restaurant is located in Taiwan, but it is now a chain! The theme of the restaurant centers around, you guessed it, toilets and poop. You know how three-year olds think that talking about poop is hilarious? I have to believe that is how they came up with this restaurant concept. The chairs are actually toilets, and the tables are bathtubs. The lights are even shaped like poop, and they have a pink poop mascot statue in the front. The food comes in toilet bowls, and one of their menu items is vegetable curry (which looks really gross in the toilet, and I won't post a pic of that LOL). They also serve chocolate ice cream that is shaped like turds in toilet bowls! Insanity. There is no end to the madness. Apparently it is a really popular restaurant over there. I would probably eat there once just for the experience, but I still think it is pretty questionable.

You Be Illin'

Its been a year ago this month since I got really, really sick. I know this because the night before I came down with the worst case of food poisoning I have ever have, I went to a midnight screening of the Quantum of Solace with Adam. Adam is obsessed with anything and everything James Bond. When I first met him in the dark ages of AIM chatting, his screen name was bndadm. Which was an abbreviated form of, "Bond Adam." But I thought it was a weird form of the name,"Brandon." So for the first six months of chatting with the man I WOULD EVENTUALLY MARRY, I couldn't even remember his first name.

The movie was OK, Daniel Craig was hot as always, but it definitely didn't live up to the typical Bond film in our oh so humble opinion. I had gotten a soft pretzel for a snack that night, and the next morning I kicked off the lovely Throwing Up Extravaganza of 2008 (Great Imagery I know). DAMN YOU PRETZEL. Adam even had to come home from work, just to take the dog for her morning walk, because I couldn't even walk a few feet. Coincidentally, a few months earlier we had gone to a different midnight movie, and Adam had woken up sick. Apparently, midnight movies only make us tired, cranky, and sick. So at the ripe old ages of 23 and 25, we have decided WE ARE TOO OLD TO GO TO MIDNIGHT MOVIES. The girl who used to stay up until 5 a.m. every night, that lives inside me, is ashamed.

I mused last week that it had been forever since I had gotten sick, and then on Friday morning I woke up with a sinus infection (I so jinxed myself). I felt like there was an Elephant inside my head trying to escape. So that morning I had a conversation with myself that went like this, "Dear Body, I have no time to be sick. K, Thanks." But my body wasn't listening, and the truth is I probably got sick because I have been running myself ragged. I'm feeling a little bit better today, but if I stand too long I still get really fatigued. Honestly, I want nothing more but to have enough energy to get up and clean the bathroom. I'm not even kidding.