I like my money right where I can see it - hanging in my closet.

Translation: There is no such thing as too many clothes, just too small a closet. This is a recent statement I made to my boyfriend that signaled a red flag in my own head (he already knows I'm crazy, but I refuse to accept it). But as a compulsive bargain shopper, I see nothing wrong with owning over ten pairs of black heels, a bajillion pair of skinny jeans, and a wardrobe Victoria herself would not want to keep secret, except for the fact that all these purchases were made on a buy one get one premise.

It occurs to me when I moved to Michigan after stuffing all my furniture in storage, I shipped about 12 24x24x24 boxes of shoes and clothes. And this was after donating 15 LARGE bags full of old clothes and shoes. Now, after living back home for almost a year, I fear the amount of shopping my mother and I have done is beyond healthy, but still a damn good lotta fun. When I move again I am going to need a U-haul for my shoes alone (black pump collection has been upped by a few pairs).

Now for those of you that follow me on the Facebook (yes, that one), you’ll know I recently paid off my credit card(s). I had two Capital One accounts that, let’s face it, at first I used responsibly but somewhere in between my first apartment and my 80th pair of shoes, I kind of let that “emergency purposes only” rule slide. Or, in my mind, an online sale at the likes of Express really was an emergency because those moments were few and far between. Never had being broke looked so utterly stylish.

But many trips to the bar, mall, and Outback later- I owed my credit card company about four grand. And it took me almost four years to pay off while still keeping a roof over my head and my power on (doesn’t matter how nice your clothes are, you cannot dress yourself in the dark). I was making good headway but my interest rates were so high that I consolidated my debt and took my business elsewhere. Capital One- you are so not what’s in my wallet.

I realize my troubles were completely self inflicted, but with the help of some hefty tax returns, my dear mother, and replacing the “BoGo” addiction with a healthier pastime- window shopping, I was able to beat the credit card demon.


Pictured: broken dreams.
And it feels so good, dear readers. But of course, after such a monumental occasion I really wanted to celebrate with a new pair of shoes…and I won’t lie to you. I bought three. And a tank top…but you better believe this chick paid for ‘em at half off and with cash. So now I am not only one of the very few people in America with no credit card debt and a rating over 750, I might also be one of the last of five people who pay cash for everything.

That's right, I’m officially that crazy lady you have to wait in line behind at the grocery store while she counts out the correct change. Remember that the next time you realize how easy it is to swipe a credit card.

But what if I don’t want to “spring forward?”

Translation: I’ve never fancied myself a springy person. And why the hell do we still observe day light savings time?

Fifteen. We have FIFTEEN clocks in this house (update: make that EIGHTEEN, I missed some of the smaller ones that I didn't know existed like the coffee maker and such. Hidden clocks everywhere!). I think this is partly just for décor and the other half is so that my mother can ensure my stepfather never causes them to be late for anything. I’ve never seen anyone better at the art of people herding than my mother. I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been late to anything. I’m just thankful none of these instances were ever my fault, for you see I’ve inherited her mad time management skills.

But of course I am the only one home this weekend. So after losing an hour to daylight savings, I will promptly lose another setting all the clocks forward.

So I’m told the majority of the country still observes daylight savings time as a means to conserve energy. I was told so by a person who owns a giant diesel pickup truck and has no concept of the off position on a light switch. The irony in this situation was not lost on me.

While there are many things in this world I do not understand (massive understatement), why the time change happens at 2 a.m. baffles me. Although on the rare and fortuitous occasion you’re in a bar that observes the “fall back” at 2 and gives you an extra hour before cut off time is a glorious experience that I’ve only been a part of once. But it was magical, like seeing a unicorn being ridden by a leprechaun over a rainbow in Narnia. But that could be the hazy booze memory talking.

It would make more sense to switch at midnight, but since no one consulted me on the matter (rude) I guess I just have to deal with it. If this interrupts my regularly scheduled infomercials for the Snazzy Napper or Forever Lazy, letters will be written. Thankfully the powers that be are kind enough to make sure this switch happens on the weekend. It’s nice to know they are somewhat compassionate to the plight of the crabby sleeper. If I don’t get my full eight hours, I get mean (in that I have no problem kicking you when you piss me off instead of using my words. I need those eight hours for witticism potential to be at its maximum zenith).

Arizona’s got the right idea, saying FTW to daylight savings. I also hear you only have to renew your driver’s license once every 50 years there. I think all these things should be incorporated into their state motto, and I bet more people would live there. 125 degrees outside in March you say? Well, I never have to lose an hour in line at the DMV or because it’s time to spring forward. In your FACE.


My graphic artwork is so cutting edge.

"Forbidden fruit creates many jams."

Translation: Well it’s that time of year again…the time when I remember, ‘oh yeah, I’m Catholic…I’ve been doing my job all year by not going to church unless forced to for Christmas or Easter…but I better give up something for Lent so I’m not a total heathen.’

The past few years I have given up quite an array of items during Lent. I’d like to present you a list of some of the random things I have abstained from for 40 days (which is like eight years when you’re as A.D.D. as I am):

Smoking…I’d like to say this one worked, I really would. The whole idea behind Lent is you give it up, with the hope at the end of those 40 days, you can keep on trucking along without it. I tried giving up the smokes for three years in a row, no dice. One random ass day I just decided I didn’t want to smoke anymore, and that’s all she wrote. Haven’t bought a pack in almost a year, and at that point I would only smoke when I drank. Cigarettes were such a dirty vice. Such a smooth, menthol-y delicious vice…wait. Back tracking here, that could be the Screwdriver talking…speaking of…

Drinking…now, I did my fair share of drinking people twice my size under the table on a regular basis from about age 18-23. But when I moved from my bar-riddled hometown, I realized what it felt like to go an entire WEEK without a hangover, and I never looked back. But when I still lived in Angelo, I attempted to give up booze for Lent with about as much success as Kristie Allie had with Jenny Craig. Vodka, I can’t quit you. But now I enjoy your company strictly in moderation, you’re welcome, people I used to drunk text. I’m pretty sure over 50% of the area code 325 entries on TFLN are from me.

Chocolate…I am starting to see a theme here…it’s almost like I want to fail at being Catholic.

Taco Bell…oh dear readers, my love of the Bell is no secret to you all. Last year, I decided to try and up the ante and be healthier with my food choices considering I worked really odd hours. I ate Toxic Hell about three times a week back then, and the decision to give it up was carefully calculated. And I’m proud to say, I did it. Even when my coworkers would bring in the Bell and I had to resist the urge to kill them and eat their burrito, I stayed strong. I abstained from cheesy potatoes until I thought I was going to die. And after Lent was over, I went out, had far too much vodka, and ended up at a Taco Bell for what I might vaguely recall, was one of the best meals I have ever eaten in my life. But I lasted the 40 days! I am finally heading in the right direction. When I’m at those Pearly Gates, I will pinpoint that year of Lent in particular to try and smooth things over.

In keeping with last year’s theme (and prepping for bikini season) I have decided to give up fast food for Lent this year. So as I am preparing a healthy meal of soy-lemon baked pork chops earlier, my mother shoots me a picture message from their road trip to Texas…innocent enough…until I realize the picture is of Chick-fil-a, undoubtedly the best fast food experience EVER. Even over Taco Bell. Quite frankly, if I still lived in Texas I would give up all fast food BUT Chick-fil-a…because they’re good christianly folks who close Sundays so we can take a break from greasy fried chicken goodness and roll our asses into church.


And on the other side of the coin, here are things I wouldn’t mind giving up for 40 days but I fear would be “frowned upon:”
-Shaving
-Wearing makeup
-Manners
-Any and all media coverage of Charlie Sheen
-Michigan driving

My boyfriend has decided to give up shaving for “Mustache March.” It’s an Air Force thing. I told him he should be glad I live clear across the country because if I had to look at him with a hipster pedo stache I’d shave it in his sleep.

..........................................

On a completely unrelated note, I am done with my evil 50 page research project I have been working on the past six weeks, and will be staying put in Michigan for a couple months. So now that my traveling and workload have essentially been nixed, expect to see much more of me. Instead of a ghost of a distant, somewhat funny, but mostly awkward memory, I will be annoying your blogstream at least two times a week. That is a promise. And it's not the vodka talking.


Kat Von Smirnoff just doesn't have quite as nice a ring to it.

"This is Texas...everyone has a gun. My florist has a gun!"

Translation: I have seen something quite like this video happen in real life. And yes, it only makes me miss Texas even more...

Original Video - More videos at TinyPic

If even a chuckle does not arise or a smirk grace your mug after you've watched that video, you've probably never been to the South.

Small update- I just got back from Florida Tuesday, and leave for New Mexico again tomorrow. Along with all the traveling and trying to write my dissertation my head is about to explode and sarcasm creativity has ceased to flow through my veins. As soon as the next two weeks are over, I expect to be back to my less hectic, regularly scheduled programming. So if my blogging is scarce, you know why!

Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. Back to the warm sunny South tomorrow!

Welcome to the Sunshine state...

Translation: I can feel my face again!!!

So I bring tidings from Bradenton, FL...which looks like this:


And compared to what I am used to:


...It just doesn't seem possible that these two places can exist in the same country, let alone planet. Personally I think winter should be illegal. Apparently that "inconvenient truth" Al Gore told us about was nothing more than a lie to anyone living in the Midwest.

Anyway, I've gotten to see some pretty awesome stuff since I've been here, and even pet a stingray today at the aquarium because I was experiencing one of those rare instances some people call "being adventurous." And it felt like silly putty, no lie (the stingray- not my sense of adventure. Close though).

My only gripe about Florida is that every drink doesn't come with a tiny souvenir umbrella in it. I mean, this place is in a constant state of spring break, it's a crime I tell you! Also, Florida- how bout you share the wealth? I've seen more Lambo's, Ferrari's, and Maserati's in the past 24 hours than I ever did at the flippin' Detroit Auto Show. WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE DO FOR A LIVING? Seriously, everyone living in this state can't possibly be a plastic surgeon.

Either way, I think we all know I'm just glad I'm on the opposite side of the state that season 2 of Jersey Shore was filmed on. But occasionally when I catch a whiff of stanky ocean air...I shudder and think about the crimes committed upon Florida beaches when gallons of hair gel, spray tan, and the herp were introduced to the ocean by the cast. Coincidentally, didn't the BP oil leak occur at about the same time? Clearly BP was just trying to fight fire with fire.

I'm off to find an umbrella to stick in my bottle of Miller, and perhaps a crazy straw. If you don't hear from me by next week, know I've found a bar that caters to both these requirements, and may never set foot in Michigan ever again.

"I had arrived at the airport one hour early so that, in accordance with airline procedures, I could stand around."

Translation: I am well versed in the hurry up and wait method.

It has been awhile since my blog and I have had the fortune of spending some time together. I just returned to Michigan after spending a (colder than I'd like) week in New Mexico with my boyfriend for our anniversary. In three days I will be return to the Detroit airport to fly to (a hopefully sunny) Florida.

Either way, my body has been and will be through more TSA scans than I'd ever care to take part in. Its awkward you know somewhere someone is looking at you and your entire body leaving little to the imagination, but it is outright cringe worthy during the 30-60 seconds you have to wait while there is TSA agent all up in your personal space bubble receiving information over your body scan in his headset. I tried making small talk during this encounter but it only seemed to cheapen the experience as I stood there doe eyed, striped pink fuzzy socks exposed for the terminal to see (fortunately the body scan was not, and bonus- I actually wore a pair of matching socks for once).

Four days after returning from Florida and a couple work assignments, it will be back to the airport to return to New Mexico, this time around to take care of my boyfriend after he gets his wisdom teeth yanked out of his head. Lucky for him, I make a mean batch of jello. Unlucky for him, we have a three hour drive to and from the place where he is having his surgery.

Why is that unlucky? Not because I am a spastic traveler- but because he drives a stick shift. The Von Devious is a lazy American who hasn't driven a manual transmission car in like 6 years. I am going to have to duct tape his head to the headrest to keep him from jerking around and bashing his head in whilst I stall out and he succumbs to a Vicodin induced stupor (jeaaaaalous).

I'm told re-learning how to drive a stick is similar to riding a bike. Yet another thing I haven't done in almost a decade. I am accident prone and impatient, so this should provide excellent fodder for a new blog post. I am going to turn what I perceive will be an epic test of my boyfriend's ability to handle me during a melt down into a positive experience. If anyone knows of a stock car simulator in the Detroit area, fill me in. I'd like to make this a far less humiliating and invasive experience than going through airport security will be...


I wonder when I can add TSA to my PPO?

I'm not confused...I'm just well mixed.

Translation: Dear readers, there are aspects of this life that genuinely baffle me (surprisingly it doesn't happen as often as you might think...especially since I can't blame the lack of understanding on blonde hair anymore). So I ask you the following questions...

1. Why the hell are glasses and contacts so expensive?! I got a new pair of glasses yesterday (RIP glasses I wore for 10 years), and I'm not talking "baller status" glasses- just a nice pair of DKNY's and a 5 minute exam...well over 300 bucks for the whole shebang. As if the good people at Lenscrafter's just wanted to say, "thank you for having terrible eye sight so we can reap the benefits." To that I say, you're most welcome...Lord knows I wanted to be BLIND. Because it's totally comforting to know in the middle of the night when something makes a sudden noise and I wake up I could be face to face with a serial killer and I'd be none the wiser. Hooray for my misshapen corneas!

2. Does my life belong on the D-list? This is a sub-rant about my experience at Lenscrafter's. I was told by a worker that I look like Kathy Griffin. I will be dying my hair a darker shade of red immediately, but I'm not sure I will ever be able to recover from said statement. Even though the woman who made that comment bore a striking resemblance to Tonya Harding (in lieu of repeatedly beating my knee caps she instead cold clocked my pride).

3. This is more of an observation that confuses me and not really a question, but I just finished watching the movie "Going the Distance." It was funny (God bless Charlie Day and Jim Gaffigan), but in all seriousness, being in a long distance relationship is not nearly as hard as shows and films make them out to be. Because if you truly love someone, that feeling transcends the miles. It can be so unbelievably frustrating to be apart, but patience is key...and is also something most people just don't have when it comes to relationships I suppose. I've been in a long distance relationship for almost 2 years. Is it ideal? No. I would love to be able to fall asleep next to the man I love every night. But right now I do not get to...so it makes the time we do get to spend together mean that much more. In a way I feel very fortunate, because I know we do not take each other for granted the way other people who see each other every day have a tendency to do.

4. Now, on a completely different note- why can't every diet be this awesome?


5. Is the apocalypse about to hit, or what? I'm told the snow storm of death is sweeping the country. My hometown virtually shut down due to icing and probably 3 centimeters of snow (huge deal in West Texas) and we're looking at getting two feet over night here in Michigan. People are scrambling to the grocery store to buy food in a manner reminiscent of Y2K (Yes, we survived) or a zombie apocalypse (in which case you should buy ammo, not bread). I'm going to be on the look out for locusts and frogs...because even if it is 10 degrees outside I'm told they're excellent indicators that the end of the world is upon us. And I'm sorry, but all this talk of the world ending...I can't NOT post this:



I know I've snuck that video into an older blog post, but dammit...it's so funny I sincerely hope if the world ends tonight it goes down a little something like that. But if it could kindly hold off and clear up by Saturday (so as not to disrupt my flights), that would be great.