For the Love of Brian

Monday night, to celebrate Mr. Bossy's ushering in of a new year, we went to dinner with his two best friends at one of his favorite places. The ride there was fairly uneventful, although Mr. Bossy and I spent a good bit of time bickering about the difference between prison and jail, and which one it is you can see gleaming in the distance when you turn into our neighborhood. (I was right. Duh).

So, at the restaurant we did go for the total dining experience... we had some rare tuna for an appetizer (I have only recently discovered that I like this, but yum), along with some white wine, and a cocktail. I also had an excellent spinach salad, a fabulous filet, and to die for creamed corn, all accompanied by some red wine, naturally.

I may or may not have told you this, but I have always been attracted to servers in restaurants. Mr. Bossy was managing a restaurant when we met, and I think this is what initially drew me to him. I spent years of my life pining over the server in my local Mexican restaurant, whose name was Radames. He was from Ecuador and I regularly referred to him as "Ecua-dorable". He was hot, let me tell you.

Anyway, the point is that I like men who bring me food. I like men who seem to want me to eat, and don't judge me if I need another bowl of creamed corn or whatever. My current crush is the extremely hot and extremely gay lunch server at my husband's restuarant. Flirting with him is the highlight of my week sometimes.

All this to say that Monday night was no exception. Our server, Brian, did the thing I love most about servers. He said, "Excellent choice" to my order every time. Now, I KNOW that he very well could have been thinking "Hideous choice, you jackass", but that's not what he said. I like to be affirmed in my decision making, so I choose to believe he was telling the truth, that he did think my choices were absolutely top-notch.

He also called me "young lady" a few times, which caused me to remind everyone at the table how MUCH YOUNGER I am than they are, which they appreciated greatly, I think.

Anyway, a few glasses/bottles of wine later, I had to announce to the table that I had a full fledged crush on Brian and that I thought it was mutual.

You might be thinking, "What a nice way to wish Mr. Bossy a happy birthday, bi-atch", but I can assure you, he rarely pays attention to the things I say in public.

A Little Help

Good morning!

I have a longer post coming later today, with tales of the birthday dinner and other antics, but I wanted to get on this morning and ask for some help.

A good friend is doing some research on young professionals, how they think, what they do, how they feel about world issues/pop culture, etc. etc. etc. She is doing this for a project on young adults for a class she's taking and is trying to survey as many people as she can.

This survey will only take you 5-10 minutes. All responses will be kept in complete confidence and you won't be asked for any identifying or contact information. If you are in the 22-35ish range and have a couple of extra minutes, I would REALLY appreciate your clicking this link and taking the survey. Also, feel free to pass it on to anyone you know who is in this range, or post it on your own blog.

Thanks so much for all your help!

Young Professionals Survey

Happy Birthday, Mr. Bossy

That's right, it's my husband's birthday. He is 36 today, which means he is waaaaaay older than I. Ok, not way. But enough. He's got a good 5 1/2 years on me.

Anyway, we are going out to dinner with some of his friends tonight, which should be fun. I see a lot of red meat in my future, which as you know, always pleases me.

I'm not making him a cake, for two reasons. Here they are:

1. On Thanksgiving, we went to my husband's parents' house for the first round of meals. [I think you'd also like to know that my husband drove first to his parents' old house, which they left over a year ago, and then to his sister's house, before he managed to to find his parents' house, which is a good 5 minutes from our house. He's seriously getting old].

Not only did we have the full Thanksgiving meal, but there were three pies and two birthday cakes there for him. Apparently his mom had told his grandmother that she wouldn't be making him a cake this year, but a birthday pie. Grandma did not approve, and brought him a cake. Meanwhile, his mom changed her mind and bought him a cake. So, we had a bunch of cake on Thursday.

2. Last year, I tried to make him a cake. I don't think I had ever made a cake before ( I am more of a cookie expert). Anyway, it was nothing fancy, just a cake mix cake. Well, since I was new to this, I tried to ice it before it was completely cool. So, I basically just had swirls of icing and crumbs completely covering the top of the cake. It looked hideous. It tasted fine, but the presentation was crap.


This morning, I said "I'm not making you a cake". His response "Good. I remember last year".

Fair enough.

Giving Thanks

I've always said Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. If you've been reading this blog, you know how I feel about Halloween, so I won't reiterate.

At the risk of sounding sappy, I like giving thanks. I like being with family around the table, I like the fall weather, the feeling that it is officially "The Holiday Season", etc. etc.

I am thankful for a lot of serious things, like health and family and all that good stuff. But, I thought I would also list a few of the slightly more superficial things I am thankful for here for your reading pleasure.
Don't judge me, this is just for fun:

1. I am thankful that Britney left K-Fed.
2. I am thankful for Soap Net on Directv.
3. I am thankful for Mexican food.
4. I am thankful for purses.
5. I am thankful for catalogs in the mail.
6. I am thankful that I am no longer in school.
7. I am thankful that I am not shopping right now.
8. I am thankful that I have a king sized bed.
9. I am thankful for Tivo.
10. I am thankful for red meat.

What fun things are you thankful for?

Bee-Atch

Well, friends, today you should be giving thanks that you don't work with me (except for you. Sorry).

Anyway, I wasn't very nice today. In fact, I was a real pain in the ass. And I'm not sure why, excpet for that when I am in a bad mood, I tend to expect people to know it instinctively and leave me alone. Since people aren't mind readers, this usually goes awry, and the things that don't normally bother me much seem to be magnified 100 fold, and then I am forced to lose it.

I felt so guilty about my behavior that when I left work I called my husband and said "I was so bad today. I was in a bad mood so I took it out on everyone I work with". I was expecting him to say something comforting and supportive, something that would cheer me right up.

His response?

"Well, now they have a small idea of what it's like to be me".

Thanks, buddy. That sure did a lot to quell my rage.

A Hair Raising Problem

Ok, so I may or may not have confessed to you before that I am not a "pet person". Before you email me or make disparaging remarks, please understand this: I do not, repeat, do not wish harm on the animal kingdom in any way. However, I believe I am within my rights to say that I don't want any in my home. I don't relate well with animals, I am not interested in them, I don't like anything besides humans in the bed with me, etc.

All these reasons are true and (I believe) valid, but the main thing I don't like about pets is this:

FUR.


I have a real aversion to animal hair. I'm not allergic, I just hate it. Nothing irritates me more than going to a friend's house and leaving covered in animal hair. I know it's not their fault, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Plus, I have my own furry mammal to deal with in the form of my husband.

He has beautiful thick, dark, hair. He repeatedly tells me that his hair is his best feature. He has a very full head of hair, which pleases him greatly. However, he sheds. He sheds SO MUCH. There is hair everywhere and I KNOW it isn't mine.

We have a bathtub in our master bath that I have used once and he has never used. However, there is always a fair amount of his hair in the tub and I can't figure out why.

So, I asked him if he was taking baths when I wasn't home. He said no. I said, "Have you ever even been in the bathtub? Like, have you had to stand in there to hang up your towel or something?" Again, he said no. Finally I said "Do you just stand in there and shake to piss me off?"

He says he doesn't, so either his shedding problem is just taking over the house one by one, or that ghost that messes with our fan is very hairy indeed.

A Guest Columnist?

Last night I was trying to convince my husband that he should take a look at my blog. He doesn't really know what it is, or why it is interesting to anyone (as we've discussed), so this was a difficult argument for me to win.

He asks me, "Why should I read this blog when I LIVE it?" and I explained calmly that then he could see my take on the stories, and maybe find some humor in our everyday lives.

He is already bored with the conversation and is heading downstairs, rambling on about how all I do is make fun of him on the blog (false) and that he should sue me for defamation (good luck).

Finally, in desperation, I called out "Maybe you could be a guest columnist and stick up for yourself!"

Mid-way down the stairs, he stopped short, turned around, walked back up the stairs to where I was sitting, and said "Now that's interesting".

We'll see if I decide I am really willing to relinquish the keboard to the man who glued his hands together last month. I'll keep you posted.



(BTW-- thanks to those who've asked, the thumb is healing well, but it still hurts, which he reminds me with some frequency).

An Acrobatic Mishap

I mentioned in my 100 Things about me that I am not too athletic. That's quite an understatement, actually. I consider it a victory when I can walk down the hall without spilling, tripping, or falling.

So, last night, I went into our room and my husband was propped up on his side of our bed watching tv. I was about to hop in the bed myself, but for some reason, as I was standing by the bed, I looked at it and thought to myself "This would be a good place to do a somersault".

Now, we do have a king-sized bed, but I am a king-sized person, so this was a bad idea from the start. I asked my husband if he thought I should do one, and he was like "I don't even understand you".

So, I decided to go for it. I tried to do a little jump and bring my knees up to the bed, but when I did that, I immediately tipped backward and landed on the ground.

Undaunted, I decided to try again. This time I got up on the bed and tucked my head, but at the last minute, the vision of me in a neckbrace for the rest of my life took hold, so I stopped and sort of rolled across the bed.

At this point, I was so overcome with laughter that I just had to lie down. My husband, however, was less than amused, and just rolled his eyes, asking, "What the hell are you doing?" and I said "Well, I don't want to break my neck. I haven't done a somersault in about 25 years, so I need to get this right".

I collected myself and stood up to try one more time. I tucked my head and rolled. I was sure that when I landed and opened my eyes I'd be in the perfect position. Alas, I managed to roll at a right angle, so instead of going across the width of the bed, I turned somehow and my feet ended up directly in my husband's face.

At this point, the acrobatics were over.

Fine. I Have Issues.

I have always preferred to shop for clothes alone. I like to shop quickly and I am not comfortable with people telling me how things look on me, I just like to get what I like and move forward.

So, last week I mentioned to you that I have no appropriate clothes for this season, so it was high time I went shopping. Here are a few things that happened (AFTER the Starbucks incident described a few days ago).

1. The mall was excruciatingly hot. I was sweating like a pig from the moment I walked in, which is never a good sign.

2. I set off store sensors FIVE times. That's right. Three times it was my cellphone and one time it was my actual clothes. Figuring all this out involved me having to empty all my bags and have salesmen rummage through my new undies, etc.

3. I shop in the "women's section", and was slightly turned around in this one department store. A man passing out cologne samples handed me one and said "can I help you find something?" Normally I would say no, but I think the fumes (and the heat) got to me and I said "Women's Department". He said "You're going to have to be more specific", and I said "WOMEN'S. SHOP FOR WOMEN." (which is what they call it there). NOTHING from this guy, just a blank stare. So then, I made a general sweeping motion with my hand around my body and said "BIG SIZES!". He just sort of shook his head and pointed down the escalator.

I did manage to find a bunch of good stuff, although it was waaaay too hot to try it all on, so I just crossed my fingers and brought it home. Lucky for me, it worked out, because returning that crap would have killed me.

This is why God invented online shopping.

I've Seen a Ghost

So today, I answered the phone at work and it was an older woman calling to let me know that another older woman we know (let's just call her Sophie Smith) had died, and wanting to see if I knew of the arrangements. I had no idea Sophie had died, or was even sick, so I was quite shocked and saddened at this news. I told the caller that I didn't know, but I'd call her back if I heard anything.

After I hung up, I told two of my co-workers about this death. One of them knew her, and one just knew the name but couldn't place her face. As we are standing in the hall talking about this, describing who Sophie Smith was and how sweet she was, how sad we were about her death, we hear the ding of the elevator.

Off the elevator walks Sophie Smith, alive and kicking. My colleague who knew her mutters "is it a ghost?" Sophie walked right up to our other co-worked and said "Hi, we haven't met. I'm Sophie Smith". His jaw dropped to the ground.

Never has anyone been greeted so warmly as she was today.

Eventually, the story came out and she said "Oh dear. I guess I better go home and spread the word that I'm not dead. I think I'm doing pretty good".

Nothing like someone coming back from the dead to spice up an otherwise dull Monday.

Off Center

My husband and I moved into our house a little over a year ago. Before that, we lived in a teeny tiny house with one bathroom that was barely big enough for one. That's not the only thing that was wrong at the house, but that's a post for antoher day. (Think restraining order on the next door neighbor and you'll get the general idea).

One of the things that sold us on our current house was the fact that there were 2.5 baths, and the master bath has double sinks. Double sinks! This was the greatest thing!

This morning, as we were standing at the double sinks, I heard a very faint song coming from his side of the sinks. I looked over at him, and said "are you singing?" and was quite shocked when he said "yes, I always sing when I shave".

OK. Here are the things you should know about that:

1. We've been together for 5 years, married for 2, and this is the first I've heard of this.
2. I ALWAYS sing. I sing too much, in fact. I sing to him all the time, mainly just songs I make up. I very rarely hear him sing or hum or anything.
3. He complains regularly about my singing.
4. He rarely shaves.

So, I was like "You DO?", and he says "Yes. I have to. I have to be really careful when I shave because my ears are off center. Singing helps me concentrate."

The things you learn when you share a bathroom.

Drive Through Moron

Today was my day off, and I have recently realized that I have no clothes for the wintry weather (even though it was 70 degrees today, it's been colder lately). So, I decided to do a little shopping this morning. On my way to the mall, I went through the Starbucks drive through.

Now, I must take a moment to say that I dearly love the Christmas season flavors starbucks provides. I tried the pumpkin spice latte over the weekend, and it was hideous, in my opinion. Check out Snake Nation's post on it-- I couldn't have said it better, so I won't try.

But! When I pulled up to the sign, they had pictures of the new flavors. I saw my favorite words "Peppermint Mocha" and I almost started crying right then and there. When the voice came over the loud speaker, I said "Do you have the peppermint mocha?" and they said "Yes, we do" and I am not kidding, I SANG in a high pitched voice "YAAAAAAAAAAAY!" like a whole little song. FINALLY, I realized how stupid that probably sounded, so I stopped and managed to place my order.

When I got to the window, they were like "you seem pretty excited" and I had to admit that I had potentially over-reacted to the news, but I just love the PM so much.

This got me to thinking that today was not the first time I acted like an idiot at a drive through window. Several years ago I was at the Taco Bell with my dear Mayor of Crazytown, and I was placing our order. We ordered some soft tacos, and the woman said "Chicken or Beef?" Now, I still don't know why I did this, but for some reason I said in a high pitched voice that sounded like something beeping:"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEF".

Once again, it took me just a little too long to realize what was happening, and as soon as I stopped beeping (beefing?) I started laughing so hard I couldn't see. Mayor was of course cracking up, and we could barely pull up to the window. But I did, and I got those beef tacos.

These are probably not the only two times I acted like an idiot over a loudspeaker, but they are the first two that come to mind. You might think I'd learn from these encounters, but chances are... I haven't.

My Crafting Name is Dumbass

Without any further ado:



I won't make you sit through the entire painful process I just went through to load this picture that isn't even very good, but suffice it to say that as usual, Monogram Momma came to my rescue and helped me get this picture up. THe quality isn't too good, as it was taken from my phone and emailed around the world and back, but here it is.

Monday night, my best friend and I got together to make her board. We knew that we would have an easier time with the second one, and we were right. It only took us about an hour! Granted, hers was smaller, but still... to go from 8 hours to one hour in only one board is a real accomplishment, don't you think?

Our second attempt was not without its own hijinks, and at one point she did give me the inspiration for the title of this post, when she said "Your crafting name is dumbass". I haven't come up with a crafting name for her just yet, but I'm sure it will be complimentary.

I think the crafting bug is really going around the Bossy house, because as we were on the floor making the board, my husband was spreading out a whole bunch of stuff on the dining room table. I asked him what he was doing, and he said "I'm working on my craft". I don't know exactly what this mystery craft is just yet, but it involves markers, a three ring binder, and a bunch of business cards. We'll see what he comes up with. His thumb is still in a bandage, so his crafting ability may be slightly impaired.

Thanks for sticking with me during the saga of the french bulletin board. I should have some better pictures taken with an ACTUAL CAMERA soon, so you may get to see it again. Until then, just think about what kind of board you want me to make for you and place your orders!

The Saga of the Board, Part II

Well, I apologize for keeping you all in suspense for so long. Where was I? Oh yes, we had just arrived back at my place. At this point, as I mentioned, it is night time and we are famished. Fortunately, my husband had been to the local Farmer's Market and bought some good cheese for us to enjoy before we tackled this project.

So, after recharging our batteries with some good appetizers, we decided that we'd cut the boards first. We took them outside (so cold) and actually had a fairly easy time of cutting the boards. The asbestos was flying, but we managed to get that part done fairly quickly, what with the exacto knife and our "steady hands". Having accomplished this portion of the task, we decided to put the batting on mine, which was the larger of the two.

So, I break out the brand new staple gun and tell my husband (ol' thumbs) to load it. I noticed he was having some trouble, and he finally broke the news to us: we bought the wrong size staples. After arguing with him for awhile, we determined that he was right. In our defense, there was a couple in Home Depot who would NOT GET OUT OF THE WAY when we were looking at the staples, so our judgment could have been impaired by them.

Anyway, apparently I don't even OWN a regular stapler, (seriously?) so we had to run out to Walgreens and get the best stapler they had, which isn't saying much. We returned to my house ready to staple the batting on the board. As you can imagine, this is not as easy with a regular stapler as it would be with a staple gun, but we got it done.

We took a dinner break at some point, but basically worked on the board for most of the evening. Finally, at about 10:30, we had created a board to be proud of. Neither of us could actually believe it turned out as well as it did! I'd like to show you some pictures, but unfortunately my camera is broken, so I had to take photos with my phone and email them to myself, and they haven't come through yet, EVEN THOUGH I sent them over 36 hours ago. I will get them to you ASAP, as I know that you are all on the edge of your collective seats.

So, 8 hours, 3 lattes, 2 staplers, 1 asbestos board and much cursing later, I am the proud owner/c0-craftswoman of a french bulletin board. Is this the beginning of a new career?

The Saga of the Board, Part I

You may remember that a couple of days ago, I sent out an urgent plea for help on the French bulletin board. Well, my best friend read my post and said "Oh, I can help you with that, no problem".

So, we decided to get together on Saturday. I did a little research, and we set off to the Home Depot, for some kind of board. Literally, that's all we knew. "It's some kind of board stuff". As we were leaving, I naively told my husband, "We'll be back in about an hour and a half". He briefly glanced up from the football game and dismissed us.

First, we headed to the local Home Depot, where we began to wander the aisles aimlessly, thinking that we'd see a big sign that said "BULLETIN BOARD SUPPLIES HERE". This did not happen. However, my friend DID drop the entire contents of her purse twice in about 2 minutes, which was awesome. Needless to say, we were cracking ourselves up the entire time. As usual, no one else was laughing with us.

Finally, we got the nerve to ask someone. We approached this young employee and said "do you have any cork?" He gave us that look-- the one you give complete morons, and just started walking. We followed behind, giggling, and he led us to another employee. This guy, with scorn in his voice, said "Are you making a bulletin board? With fabric?" while rolling his eyes at us, (and mentally cursing all these damn Martha wannabees). We just said that we were and followed him to a big stack of boards that were perfect for us.

The man showed us what we needed and how to cut the board. We insisted that we didn't need help cutting it and that it would DEFINITELY fit in our car. We carried this thing through the store and made a detour to purchase a staple gun and staples. We get out to the parking lot, and all the pushing and shoving in the world couldn't quite get this big ol' board into her car.

So we broke it. We just snapped it in half. Well, I don't know what kind of board this is, but there were little pieces of something flying around the car, all over our clothes, etc. My friend broke out in hives on her neck from it. We're calling it asbestos, but I'm pretty sure that's not what it was. At least I hope it wasn't.

Our next stop was the fabric store. We knew of one nearby, but we didn't think that one was good enough, so we thought we'd drive out a little ways to where we thought one was. Needless to say, there wasn't one out there, but there was a Starbucks, so the trip wasn't a total loss. We asked about nearby fabric stores at a local Michaels, and the very helpful lady there directed us RIGHT BACK WHERE WE CAME FROM.

So, we proceeded BACK to the original fabric store, where we spent about 45 minutes picking out the fabric, the batting, the ribbon, and the upholstery tacks. As I was waiting for the woman to cut my fabric, a very argumentative and rude customer looked at my fabric and said "What is THAT going to be?" Taken aback, I said "Hopefully a bulletin board". She said "Do you teach? Because that is going to be a VERY BIG bulletin board. I'm trying to imagine how that will look". (all this in a tone that indicated she didn't think this would look good AT ALL). I just told her that in my mind, it looked fabulous. Thanks for your opinion, lady, next time I need advice, I'll be sure to call you.

At this point, it is completely dark outside and we are heading back to my house to actually begin the project, totally exhausted. How did the project go, you ask? Well, tune in tomorrow and find out what happens in Part II of this fascinating tale of two wannabee crafters, a staple gun, and an asbestos board. You don't want to miss what happens next.

100 Things About Me

So, I have noticed that a lot of blogs have "100 Things About Me", and I decided to give that a try, so here we go-- in no particular order:

1. I love spaghetti with meat sauce.
2. I have one brother and one sister, both are older.
3. Except during college, I have always lived in this area.
4. I took piano lessons for over 10 years, and can barely play anything with two hands.
5. I have had my gall bladder and my adenoids out.
6. Getting my gall bladder out turned out to be the best thing ever-- I used to be a Tums addict and haven't had one in over three years.
7. I have an undergraduate degree in education, but I'm not a teacher.
8. I also have a graduate degree.
9. I have never particularly enjoyed being in school.
10. I am extremely group-oriented.
11. I love purses, especially Coach ones.
12. I have been at my current job for over 7 years.
13. I do a lot of singing, but not professionally.
14. I am on a recording that won three Grammy awards.
15. I have been married for a little over two years, and I love it.
16. In college I drove a Honda, which I called "Brenda", after Brenda Walsh, my favorite person on 90210.
17. I love to wear blue jeans.
18. I love to decorate my mantles with the seasons.
19. I like for things to be monogrammed.
20. I get my eyebrows waxed regularly, which is very important to me.
21. I have always liked beer -- it was never an "acquired taste" for me.
22. I am the least athletic person on this planet.
23. I love to watch football, particularly SEC football.
24. I like for things to be neat and clean.
25. One of my favorite things is going to the beach in SC with my entire family.
26. I really hate it when people misuse apostrophes.
27. I have two best friends that I have known my entire life.
28. My husband and I met in a bar.
29. I have a deep love for karaoke.
30. I think Vegas is the most fun place I have ever been.
31. I got so sunburned on my honeymoon that I couldn't move for two days.
32. I never go on a trip without a legal pad.
33. I really love fat free coffeemate, especially the seasonal flavors.
34. I really, really hate to exercise.
35. I love planning and calendars.
36. I sing in an all female a cappella group.
37. I am an aunt to three and one on the way, and I love it.
38. I have never colored my hair at all.
39. I love to read books that are considered "chick lit".
40. I have no children, but I have always looked forward to pregnancy.
41. I cry a lot, and not because I'm sad, just because I can't help it.
42. I have a tattoo, which I wouldn't do again. It is tiny, but it hurt like hell.
43. I love stationery. I have more than I know what to do with, but I keep buying it.
44. I am the world's worst Mary Kay saleswoman.
45. I always have at least one song in my head.
46. I write thank you notes and am fairly judgmental when people don't.
47. I am a staunch United Methodist.
48. I have never been a good student of history.
49. I loved studying other languages.
50. I seem to go to a lot of weddings and baby showers.
51. I HATE to cut the grass.
52. I am not very good at car maintenance.
53. I was a candy-striper in middle school for about 6 months.
54. I loved planning my wedding, because I had been planning it for most of my life.
55. I have very long fingers.
56. I am named after my great-grandmother, whom I never met.
57. I love Mexican food.
58. I hate mariachi bands.
59. I like to entertain.
60. I very rarely go to the movies.
61. I don't have any pets and am uncomfortable around most animals.
62. I do not like melons of any kind.
63. I am a big fan of hugging.
64. I have a very loud laugh.
65. I have a subscription to Us Weekly and I love seeing it in my mailbox.
66. I make a lot of lists.
67. I knit. Sort of. I try.
68. Even though I have 20/20 vision, I can't read any signs when I drive at night. It's a real mystery.
69. I don't like flying, but I'm not scared of it. I'm just so uncomfortable.
70. I almost never lose things, but I lost the camera on our honeymoon.
71. I try to please people.
72. The first man I ever really loved was Michael J. Fox.
73. I almost never wear shorts.
74. I like the people I work with.
75. I won a spelling bee in 5th grade.
76. I love to do crossword puzzles.
77. I always vote.
78. I am a Notary Public.
79. I worked in a law firm for several summers and I got a raise when they found out they weren't even paying me minimum wage.
80.When I was in 6th grade I went to a party and saw a boy wearing a pink shirt and pink socks. I fell in love with him instantly. We are still friends. although I am no longer in love with him. Well, maybe a little :)
81. I wear "Lovely" perfume by Sarah Jessica Parker.
82. I have seen every episode of Friends more than once.
83.I like for my bedroom to be blue and white.
84. Caller ID is my favorite invention.
85. I LOVE cheese.
86. Judging from my Ipod, I like 90s music the best.
87. I subscribe to a LOT of magazines.
88. I hate it when people are habitually late.
89. In 11th grade I closed my finger in my locker door right before the "class ring ceremony". I went to the ceremony crying, and the principal told me to calm down because it was just the ring ceremony, not graduation. Turns out my finger was broken.
90. My dad and his company installed the lockers in my school, the same lockers which broke my finger.
91. I really hate to be wrong.
92. I am the worst dancer ever.
93.I wish I had known in high school that I wasn't fat.
94. I seem to wear a lot of black shirts.
95. I look a lot like my dad.
96. I think chocolate and peanut butter is the world's greatest combination.
97. I get caffeine headaches. I suspect this is a sign of something.
98. Red roses are my favorite flower and I REALLY love receiving them.
99. I used to drive a pick up truck.
100. I really hate the way I look in profile, and will turn my head if I think you are looking at me from the side.

Well, that was fun. It's interesting what random and bizarre things you think of when making a list like that. I hope you enjoyed yourself!

Wanted

I need your help. I really want one of those French bulletin boards, the kind with the criss cross ribbons. Actually, I have several in my office, but what I really want is a larger one in my house. The ones I have are smallish, and I don't like those as much.

Unfortunately, I can only find instructions on how to make them, and I can't seem to figure out where to buy them. Does anyone know? Am I going to be forced to make one, and risk my own frustration at attempting such a high-level craft? Am I going to have to hire someone to make me one?

Can this problem be solved?

Any advice would be appreciated.

Public Service Announcement

Attention Teens:

Putting on your letter jacket and carrying a plastic Kroger shopping bag is not "dressing up for Halloween". Just because it's October 31, you are not automatically entitled to food from my house. I'd appreciate the slightest bit of effort on your part if I am going to willingly GIVE AWAY chocolate.

Consider this your final warning.
Love,
Bossy