Tales from Over Yonder Part Two

Just as a warning this post is mainly going to be about the food I ate. Because, um, I ate a lot of food.

After the drinking, trip to fantasy land, and karaoke singing, I was more than ready for a few quiet days at home. When I finally got home, I got to see that my mother had completely redecorated my old bedroom and turned it into her library. When I was a senior in high school, she told me she was going to redecorate my room after I left for college. And I had like a level five freak-out about it. I really hate change and I felt that my room should be kept as a shrine to my childhood. I was still in therapy at the time, so we even had a mother/daughter therapy session about it. I may have cried, A LOT, in that session. Yes, I was/am dramatic, but at least I OWN it.

But the room actually looks really great and she kept a lot of stuff of mine as well. Plus after having a kid at home for over 30 years, I think she deserves a space of her own. One of the things she did was frame these letters both my brother and I wrote in elementary school. They were from a "I love my mother because" letter contest. His was from 1989, mine was from 1995. First, I give a cookie to whoever can first figure out how my letter was more poltically correct than my brothers. (Hint: Look at the pictures of the moms at the top). Second of all, it is so hilarious because it still represents our very different relationships with our moms.

The reason I love my mom is because she loves me. She is always there for me when I'm in trouble. We play games like Wheel of fortune and yathzee. We also go places like Jamestown and Banzoe (Branson). And she is not strict like other mothers. She gives me money to go places. Love, BJ

My brother is still asking my mother for money all the time, and she still has to bail him out of trouble.

Dear Mom, I love you beacuse you're sweet and kind. You always forgive me when I do wrong. You always understand me. Mom what would I do without you? Mom I know sometimes I'm a pain but I never mean it. You know how to cheer me up! You show your love to me from the heart. It seem you never get mad at me. I love you mom. Love, Brittany

Hello. I'm still a total pain. Cute, right?

My mother also kept my life size James Dean cardboard stand up! But honestly, if she hadn't kept James, then she would no longer be allowed to call herself my mother. James was the best "secret" boyfriend a high school girl could have. I say "secret" because I technically had a real live boyfriend in high school. But James Dean never forgot to call me on my birthday, kissed another girl, or made me cry at Champions on Ice. Heck, in many ways James is even better than my husband because James never put EMPTY milk jugs back into the fridge instead of recycling them. UGH.  But on the other hand, James could be slightly voyerstic when I was cannodling with real live boyfriends. Plus, he chain smoked and enjoyed scaring the crap out of me when I would stumble into my bedroom late at night. Think about it. Seeing an outline of a six foot man in the middle of the night in your BEDROOM? Not fun.

On my first full day in Alabama, we went shopping. First stop, Hobby Lobby! Can I just say I love hobby lobby? It is my favorite store ever, and I HATE that there isn't any in California. I really do have an obsessive love for all things artsy and crafty. I seriously think I'm just like a retrogressed little girl-scout dreaming about making popsicle stick jewelry boxes and cards caked with glitter. We spent over three hours at Hobby Lobby, I'm not even kidding. I mostly bought a bunch of scrap booking supplies because I've been meaning to put together a little scrapbook documenting our married life. After getting high off craft supplies, we went clothes shopping and to our old favorite haunt Surin for martinis, sushi, and CRAB ANGELS. Totally amazeballs.

On my last day in Alabama, I spent the morning at the hair salon. I was so thrilled to finally go see my hair dresser. I hadn't gotten my hair done professionally since the wedding. My ends were split, I couldn't do a thing with it, and I had suffered through not one but TWO lopsided haircuts. I love my hair dresser at home because I never feel I have to talk to her the entire time, something that can make me anxious. So while I got highlighted and chopped, I got to sit there and read the book about a bear mauling I had burrowed from my mother. Other books I read/looked-through/burrowed from my mother while at home? Books on plane crashes, a book called Deaths at the Grand Canyon, and one called The Torso Murders. What is wrong with me? Really. I don't know why I've always been fascinated by reading about true life tragedies. Just the other night, I stayed up late reading about unsolved murders on Wikipedia. I got myself so creeped out I had trouble sleeping.

When my hair was done, it really looked great. But because the stylist always uses a diffuser to style my hair, my curls really puffed up. So when I looked in the mirror, I had to laugh at myself because my hair looked like the little girl's hair on those shows like Toddlers and Tiaras. Later on my mother snapped a picture of me (the awful one you see above). My mother was acting like one of those pushy stage moms you see on those shows because she kept demanding that I smile with MY TEETH. Even though I kept telling her that I always look possessed when I smile with my teeth! Open-mouthed smiling isn't a talent I've mastered. But did she care? Absolutely not. Leading to the puffy chipmunk photo seen above.

After getting my hair done, we headed over to Bridgestreet in Huntsville. Bridgestreet is a new, outdoor shopping mall area that literally has everything. It is trying to be very upscale, it even has gondolas! It also has possibly the best Mexican food restaurant I've ever been too. But that could be due to the fact that I've recently fallen in love with avocados. And they make fresh guacamole with AVOCADOS (duh, of course it has avocados, Brittany, it is guacamole) right in front of you! And they stuff their enchiladas with AVOCADOS! That is pure avocado heaven folks!

While we were at Bridgesteet, we saw Toy Story 3 in 3D. It was fabulous, but I've loved all the Toy Story movies. But the most important thing that happened at Bridgesteet was our trip to the Chocolate Crocodile. A place I discovered during the weekend I had my bridal shower. The place I learned that apples could be dipped in things other than caramel. They can be dipped in white chocolate or in sprinkles! I started craving those precious covered apples two minutes after I finished my first ever apple. So on this trip home; I knew I had to get me an apple. And the apple I got trumps all apples I've ever had before. I present you with the cheesecake covered apple! The apple is pictured sitting on my nightstand in front of a framed bible verse. This was done purposely to give the apple the reverence it deserves.

I could also mention all the wonderful talks I had with my mother and the overall wonderful time I had. But really I think this post should end like it began, talking about food. Did I gain two pounds when I went home? Yes. Do I regret it at all? No. Mostly because I already lost those pounds. Plus cheesecake covered apples are healthy right? Apples are fruit. Sigh, I'm such a fat kid.

Tales from Over Yonder Part One

This post should really be titled the Cream Cheese Wonton Invitational.

Wednesday afternoon I touched down at Orange County Airport and kissed the South goodbye. I left behind the world of Southen accents, sipping cocktails, girl talk with my mother, and laughing with friends for housework, money issues, and class. Let us talk about the class I'm taking now. This is a pass or fail class, and I'm tested on all the clinical skills we have been working on for the past year. If I don't pass even one of those skills, it is over for me, and I can't continue on with the program for six months. Making you wait six months to restart is the University's way of sending you to a cornor and telling you to think about what you did wrong. If that happens, I will storm off to my room, slam the dorm, scream I hate you, and make a plan to runaway from home, just like I used to when I fought with my mother. Because of this class, I am currently riding a rollar coaster. Some moments I feel as confident as that teenager sailing around the world by herself (minus the crazy waves) and other moments I want to jump off the 17th floor balcony because it is all too much. So the next few weeks I'll be living life in a pressure cooker. Can I go back to sipping Margaritas please?

But if you want to be as prepared as humanly possible to be put through the ringer, take a vacation first. I planned this vacation months and months ago, to spend some time with my mom. But according to my mom, I was really coming home to meet my "sister." My sister being the lab named Carly my mother recently adopted. Honestly, I am the ultimate dog person, and you guys are just lucky that everyone one of my posts isn't a picture of Sarah. But even me, a coo-coo dog lover, balked at being told a canine was my sister. The morning before I arrived, my mom took Carly to the groomer to get clean. She told the groomer that Carly was going to meet her sister today! And that her sister and she had the same color hair! And that she must be clean for her sister! But then my mom had to tell the groomer that Carly's sister was a human and not another dog. So color them surprised and a little concerned. They may just cross the street the next time they see my mom coming. Mom if you’re reading this, I’m sorry! (But she knows it is true).

My mother also has a nickname for Carly, which is Babydog. Isn't that the most humiliating nickname ever? I should know my friends call me HOFO. Adam and I also have nicknames for Sarah, like Sister Golden Hair and the Golden One. But those aren't as traumatizing as Babydog! Is the crazy dog lady trait genetic? But I ended up falling in love with this hyper, chubby, loveable pooch. I am now happy to call her my "sister." Half-sister if you want to get technical. And when I came home I told Sarah she now had a much younger Aunt.

On Saturday I road tripped down to Columbus, Mississippi. Birthplace of Tennessee Williams and my alamater, Mississippi University for Women (admitting men since 1982). Better known as MUW or The W. But most importantly, Columbus is the home of the Chinese restaurant, Peking, and they make the best cream cheese wontons on the face of the planet. They are gooey, warm, and sweet. Those wontons are made to be eaten by the Gods, but actually even the Gods aren't worthy. Just Southern Belles who love to eat are worthy. I told people the weekend trip was about seeing my college friends, but if I had to be honest, it was really all about the wontons. In fact, the first thing we did after getting together with each other was sitting our butts down at Peking. Where (I'm not even kidding) two people got wontons for us to share as appetizers, three people bought wontons for dessert, and one person even bought some to-go for the hotel later. Yes, they are that good.

Just kidding about coming just for the wontons. I was so much happier to see my college friends Anna, Jenny, Jana, Austin, and Benson. We are really close, a bond that only comes from living with one another for four years. And having nothing to do (unless you count studying) so you sit around all day and stare at each other, or make late night fast food runs. Lots of fast food runs. And it was so funny because after lunch we went cruising around town and noticed our favorite late night haunt, Taco Bell had closed. Obviously because we were no longer there to single-handedly support them. Oh the guilt, regret, and shame that comes from causing the demise of Columbus's Taco Bell. Let us have a moment of silence for the long, lost Taco Bell. Moment of silence over.

After we had properly mourned Columbus' lost of cheap soft tacos and quesadillas, we decided for old time's sake (because being 24 is really, really old) we would ride around campus. It is weird, but I'm so emotionally attached to MUW. I just feel like my experience there was amazing and I really grew into my own there. And it really was fate that I ended up there. I'm from Alabama and hadn't even heard of The W when I was in high school. One day I was just non-chantilly flipping through a college catalog, no idea what direction I wanted to go in, and my eyes landed on an ad about MUW. I had a feeling about it and just decided that it was the only place I wanted to go. The W was the only college I applied to, and even though my grades were up and down in high school due to emotional problems, I received a pretty hefty scholarship. I even look back at college with nostalgia when thinking about all-nighters, doing laundry at 3 a.m. because that was the only time the machines were empty, and the repetitive cafeteria food. Also I think my friends feel the same way. To me, that place is magical.

We drove around remembering all our crazy times. Swapping tales about Nurse Mary, the ghost that lived in our freshmen dorm, Calloway Hall (Calloway was a civil war hospital during the Civil War, the laundry room was the morgue. Soo creepy at knight). Laughing about the people who put kool-aid in the fountains. And those hurricane parties we had, when our families would send us emergency money for emergency supplies, but instead we bought cheez-its, king cake, and board games. Sometimes buying a flashlight as a after thought. That is even what we did for Hurricane Katrina! Smart, right? And the girls teased me about all the times I accidentally flashed the construction workers working on the dorm next to us at night. Plus that time when my Backyardigans kite had a run in with Charlie Brown's kite eating tree, and the kite stayed there for MONTHS.

There isn't much to do in Columbus, so after driving around campus, we decided to take a little detour to the novelty shop sex shop Fantasyland. Going to Fantasyland is kind of a rite of passage for W students. No kidding, most freshmen go there the first week they start college, just because it is the thing to do. And it is always good for some immature laughs. And we specialize in immaturity. Plus most of us, by this time, were a little tipsy, so it seemed like a good idea. The ironic thing is Fantasyland is on Highway 69 near an exit to the city of Eatonville! Guys you can't make this stuff up. And I'm only sharing about this part of my vacation because of the treasure we found there. This treasure is known as Fatty Patty. A kind of blow-up doll that is pleasantly plump. This is how she is described...."Her blood type is Ragu, her belt size is the equator and she has to iron her pants in the driveway! For that person who loves them large and in charge!" Fatty Patty really brought the lols.

After our trip down highway 69, we went to a karaoke bar. I have never sung karaoke but I've always wanted to. It is even on my lifelist! But I was also terrified to sing karaoke, but felt I could do it if I wasn't alone. Jana had offered to sing with me, but I wanted to get a third person just for good measure. But Jenny wasn't having it. So I started guilt tripping her. "Jenny if you don't sing karaoke with me you will regret it on your deathbed." But that didn't work, so I took it one step further-"I'm getting on a plane on Wednesday, and if that plane crashes, you are going to be like why of why did I not sing karaoke with Brittany last week!" Yeah I totally get that saying something like that may make me a terrible friend, probably even a terrible person. But I was pretty buzzed at this point and I was desperate. And don't forget, I'm shameless. But she still wasn't swayed by my logic! So I decided I would just go sing with Jana. Only Jana. Boooo Jenny. Jana went to give the DJ our song choice, and when she returned she had the most devious look on her face, and whispered in my ear, "You will never believe what is about to happen."

The DJ at the karaoke bar was a nice guy, who loved to sing. When no one else was singing, he was up there belting out the tunes. He looks a little like Jerry Seinfeld, and not one of his teeth point the same direction as the others. God Bless Him. So when Jana went to tell the DJ our song selection, she noticed Tommy Tutone's song Jenny (867-5309) on the screen. The wheels started turning and Jana said," My friend's name is Jenny! You have to sing it to her." So Jerry Seinfeld starts singing to Jenny and wrapping his arm around her. Jenny wants to crawl under her chair and die. And when he starts singing 867-5309, we would shout out Jenny's real phone number. Looking back that wasn't the brightest thing to do, considering there were other people in the bar. But hey it was still pretty funny. Plus it is a little karma retribution for not singing karaoke with me. And I took video evidence.

But after Jenny's forced serenade, it was time for me and Jana to take the stage. We chose Miranda Lambert's Gunpowder and Lead. And bear with me cause not only can I not sing, I was a karaoke virgin. But I had a blast doing it, and would do it again. And I love that you can hear my friend Anna in the video, talking in her cute little thick accent the whole time. And if you listen near the end, you hear the boys trying to force her to get up and sing.

The creepers at the bar really liked our performance, and I got lots of unwelcome advances. But that usually happens when we get together. Maybe because if you combine us you have the perfect woman, she has the boobs and I have the butt. Once we were driving to the store together, and the guy leaned over and LICKED the car window. It was an incredible turn on.

So now I can cross karaoke off my life list! So excited. But this post is already super long, so I thought I'd break the trip recap into two posts.

P.S. My Butt Broke the Plane

Sweet Home Alabama. That is where I am tonight. Is the sky oh so blue? It is. Is the sky oh so hot? YES IT IS. I was standing outside at 8 o'clock at night in a t-shirt and I was sweating bullets. When you move away from the South, you forget how truly hot is is. Like oppressively hot, like strip off all your clothes and run naked down the highway hot. And I thought I knew hot because I don't have as much as a window air conditioner unit in California.  But turns out our duplex in the hot summer months is like Antarctica compared to Alabama. By the way, thank goodness for central air at my mom's house. I bow down to central air. I kiss the ground the air conditioner walks on.

My first morning flight was pretty eventless, followed by a short layover in Dallas. I was sitting at my gate, when one of the gate ladies (what the heck is the proper occupational title for the people at the gate? Maybe dream squashers or party poopers since they are always giving the bad news. Just kidding gate people.) made an announcement. The flight to Newark, which was next to us, was being scrubbed due to mechanical problems. I thought oh thank goodness that is not our flight. You know because I had Mexican food and Margaritas to get home to! So we boarded the flight and I was getting settled in when the pilot announced they had found an unfixable, mechanical error so they were not going to use this plane. So we would have to exit, and wait while they found us a new plane. See this was my punishment for even being relieved for one second that the fate of the flight to Newark was not my fate.

Honestly, getting kicked off the flight was annoying, but I would much rather be delayed than be up in the air on an unsafe flight. I called Adam to tell him what was going on and told him quote, "My Gigantic Butt Broke the Plane." The size of my butt is a running joke between us. Because my butt is big and it is absolutely fabulous. So Adam and I had fun with that running gag for a while.

So the passengers on flight 1008 waited and waited, and the funny thing is before the first flight boarded no one spoke to each other, but slowly like prisoners of a shared, sucky experience we all started to bond. Swapping horror stories from flying in the past and telling jokes. Then, finally like Manna from heaven the gate ladies a.k.a dream squashers and party poopers announced that they had found us a plane and we must migrate to gate D15.  But there was some confusion over whether she had said B or D. So we hedged our bets on D, and like ducks we rode the escalator in one neat, little row. We took up one whole sky link train before collectively hooping and hollering over our celebration over picking the correct gate.

Of course, we still had to wait at the gate, and of course the gate was right next to a candy store. Which was impossible for me to resist because I was famished. I wanted to save money and calories. But the fates didn't have that in the cards for me, so I chowed down on coconut haystacks and almond bark. Which just happens to be my mother's two favorite candies in the world. So when we were having dinner and I was recounting their deliciousness,  I suddenly became evil in my mother's eyes for not buying her any.  For two reasons-1. She lent me the money to travel with (meaning that is how I bought the chocolates) and 2. How could I not think to buy my long suffering mother who was in labor with me for nearly three days before having to succumb to a scarring c-section some gosh-darn candy y'all? An act that could have obviously been forgiven if I had just brought her one haystack.

Honestly, it never even crossed my mind to buy her any. LOL. I'm a bad daughter. So I have been reminding her all evening about the amazing, deliciousness of the haystacks. And how no other candy ever will compare to those haystacks! Ever. I mean it. Don't you wish you had tasted them Mom?

In fact, I think I will get some more haystacks on the way home to California. Maybe buy some candy to give to Adam, and rub that in her face a little more. Yep, my mother loves me. In other words, I'm already having a blast.

P.S.-My butt didn't break the second plane.

Put a Little South in Your Mouth

Thought of The Day: I really want to buy a Vuvuzela horn and play it all night long.

And now for your regularly scheduled post: Y'all I'm going home on Friday! And if you are thinking, "Brittany, aren’t you already at home?" The answer would be err sort of. California is the home I've made with my husband, California is where I love on my dog, and drive Homer the Honda down the freeway (with no more fear hooray!). But I am a true blue Southerner at heart, cut me open and you'll find that I bleed banjos and grits. Which is kind of worrisome from a medical stand point, and kind of disgusting from a culinary stand point. No I'm flying HOME to visit my mother in Alabama and then driving over to Mississippi to visit my college friends.

I've been planning on getting home to Alabama for a while, and luckily my mom thought I was worth purchasing me a plane ticket. But because my mom purchased the ticket, I kind of have to play by her rules. And my mother is kind of crazy and she is really particular about doctor appointments. So when she found out I was coming home, she got all sorts of excited and made me a dentist and eye appointment! Who wants to go to the dentist and eye doctor on their vacation? I'm 24 years old and perfectly capable of making my own appointments. OK, so I haven't done any of these things since I moved, but I could have. And I'm still banking on the fact that I can weasel my way out of them, if I promise to do that when I come back (with fingers crossed behind my back).

The only thing I wish (except to not go on those doctor's appointments) is that Adam could come with me. First of all I want him to come because I always get a little insecure that he won't miss me while I'm gone (though he always does). But also it's more fun to travel with someone. Adam is a gentleman and ALWAYS takes the middle seat, so I don't have to sit by strangers or endure any awkward small talk. I hate awkward small talk with strangers, and it seems like when I fly alone I'm always stuck by some chatterbox that wants to comment on everything, including my reading material (which is slightly embarrassing because I like to indulge in a little Cosmo magazine when flying). But on the plus side, Adam is scared of flying, so at least I won't have to convince him that we aren't all going to die! Every time we hit a little turbulence.

Going home also means going out to eat. And going out with friends means visiting our old haunts. Meaning never ending chips and queso at Mi Torros and plates of cream cheese wontons at Peking. Not to mention the BOOOZE! And what will I do without my gym? AWWWW. I'm so scared I won't be able to resist and will gain back 10 lbs!! 

Knock! Knock! Do you guys have any dieting and traveling advice? Or should I just forget it and enjoy myself?