Of Insignificant Importance

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

The day I thought would never come is finally here! As we speak, my Darling boy is on his way to see me. He's got less than an hour now before he lands in Dallas after about a 10 hour and 15 minute flight. And when he gets here, it will be about 2AM his time, so I'm going to have a very sleepy boyfriend on my hands!

I'm extremely nervous. When I would lie awake at night, or couldn't go back to sleep on some mornings, I would picture what it would be like to see him walking toward me, arms out and ready to give me a great big hug. My heart would start to pound and I could feel butterflies in my stomach. For that reason, I knew that on the day of his arrival, I would have to keep myself as busy as possible just to not throw up every 10 minutes from the nerves and excitement. I may have overloaded my plate though!

I had a very wonderful Christmas, Santa still spoils my sister and me. Thank you all for the Christmas wishes and I hope y'all had a safe and happy one as well. This morning I had an eye appointment, then I raced home to vaccum and wash my car, load up all my goodies, eat a bit of lunch, then come back to my apartment. After about 4 trips up and down 3 flights of stairs with QUITE heavy loads, I am finally able to start the biggest task of all...CLEANING! I have a lot to do.

After cleaning is some grocery shopping so my darling can have food whilst I work my two mornings this week (I'm off then until he leaves), and then one more errand. Then it's back to the apartment to clean myself up, try to look as nice as I can for him. To the airport with me at about 7:35PM.

Do you know what I'm the most nervous about? What if I'm not what he expected? What if I'm not pretty enough or this or that enough? What if he sees me in my everyday life and doesn't care for me too much after that? I think these are big "what ifs", but still, those are the thoughts that occupy my mind in between all the excitement. I try not to worry too much about it, though, because judging from how we already are, I see the most wonderful 2 weeks ahead of me.

So, that's it for now. Cross your fingers and say some prayers for a safe flight and good times for us. I'm sure he'll post about his visit while he's here (when he's trying to avoid the 81F weather we're having...oops), and I know I'll be posting a bit, maybe even some pictures if I get them in time.

This seriously is one of the happiest days of my life. I can't wait to see him.

...because it's Christmas.

But seriously, how did I become *that* person that becomes annoyed by EVERY LITTLE THING! Let's say, for example, that I'm sitting in a college course trying to scribble down everything the professor is saying about the self-fulfilling prophesy. Then all of a sudden..."tap tap tappity tap...tap tap tappity tap...tap tap tappity tap..."(you the the idea). I think to myself, "What the heck is that and where is it coming from?" Next door neighbor is tap tap tapping his pencil in an annoying (albeit, rhythmic) pattern, obviously not as preoccupied on the topic of this somewhat self-deprecating cycle as I am.

No matter, I think, I'll just block him and his tapping out. But no! It's too late. I've already heard the tapping. It's seared into my brain. IT'S ALL I CAN HEAR! So then, my quest is not on the detailing of my notes, no...now it's trying to find a way to make it stop!

I *AHEM* loudly. Nope, no effect. *COUGH COUGH* Persistent little bugger. Throwing my pencil would only add more ammunition to his arsenal. Maybe if I construst a mini-spit wad and aim it directly at the noise-maker, I can dislodge it from his hand and THEN...

"Okay, see y'all next week. Don't forget, essays are due!"

DAMMIT ALL. The Tapping Tyrant has managed to distract me from the end of the lecture, which we all know is the time when the most important "now, make sure you highlight this because it will be on your final" comments are given. He will pay. Oh yes, he will pay dearly.

I experienced something to that effect this morning. We were enjoying a presentation on "Professional Development", and I was sat next to a male employee who shall remain nameless. I was content listening to how *I* could dress for success when...

schluuuuurrrrp...schlurrrrrrrrrrrrp...schluuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrpppp.

...the hell is that? Turns out, Noisy McNoisester is LOUDLY slurping his tea. And not just one big slurp and then minutes in between, no. Several long, drawn out, messy slurps, separated only by the "GULP...ahhhhh"s.

Drown it out, drown it out, drown it out.

But I couldn't, and this continued for the WHOLE presentation. This is also the guy who usually sits next to me whenever all of us are out eating or having a luncheon, and INSISTS on taking up my personal bubble space with his elbow so he can cut/manuever/wrangle his food. Gah.

I just had to keep telling myself when I felt the urge to give him a good elbowing in the nose, that this was Christmas time...a time to forgive and see past the petty things that normally piss you off.

That didn't really work, though, so I just thanked my lucky stars that it was a really concise presentation.


One day to go, people. One day.

(I must apologize for the lateness of this post!)

I got my White Elephant Christmas gift from Becky in the mail the other day. One thing y'all should know about me--I'm oftentimes way too lazy to take that extra 2 minute drive to my mailbox to retrieve the contents stuffed inside. So, I bet my package was waiting for me LONG before I opened it! Sorry about that, Becksters!

A little background: Me and the fine people of Swankytown had decided that since we were oh-such-good friends, we would participate in a White Elephant Gift Exchange. How it worked? Well, Trishy wrote all our names down and drew each for a person, and then posted who got who, we exchanged addresses, and BAM! You got yourself a gift exchange.

Becky sent me the most wonderful springy Santa bottle topper. This is a perfect gift for me, as I LOVE wine! She nestled a card in with the gift as well with a nice note explaining certain parts of the gift (gah, I left it at my apartment!). It was just the thing to get me back in the Christmasy mood.

So, a big, ginormous THANK YOU to Ms. Becky for the wonderful and befitting present. It will be used time and time again! Merry Christmas!

Oh, and Trishy--I'm a HORRIBLE person! Yours will be in the mail tomorrow.

Is jealousy instinctual? Can you truthfully say "I'm not a jealous person" and have people not scoff in your face?

As demented as this sounds, I used to like when my boyfriends would get jealous of other guys paying attention to me (although it didn't happen that often). To me, and again, this is just my opinion, I think a small amount of jealousy can have the potential to be a reassuring factor in relationships:

"My ex called me up this afternoon out of the blue and wants to have dinner with me. He says there's something he really needs to talk to me about."

"Okay, well, I'm not going to tell you you can't go, although that's what I want to do most. I will say that I'm uncomfortable with that, and will ask that you please come back and talk to me as soon as you're done so I know you haven't left me for him."

This mock conversation could give you some insight as to what I mean. Secretly, I'd be beaming a bit that my current love cared enough about me to NOT want to lose me to some ex-thing I'd long since forgotten. "Oh good," I think to myself, "he still likes me enough to keep me as his own."

Right, right. Feminists world-wide have just muttered "weak-willed soul" in unison, but hey, call me old-fashioned. I LOVE the idea of belonging to someone, being his own. Equally, they are mine. I'm not an independent soul forever. I'm just waiting around until someone worthy enough claims me and keeps me.

I, therefore, view a moderate amount of jealousy as a good sign that your relationship is worth something. However, when that "moderate" amount starts to make its way into the "heavy" category, that's when you can truly botch things up.

I will admit that I am a jealous person. Not crazy-I-will-stab-you-bitch-if-you-even-so-much-as-look-at-my-boyfriend jealous or anything. There's just that jealous bone in my body. Someone pointed out to me that this may be a result of confidence issues; I think that's a possibility, but combine it with insecurities and sprinkle some trust issues from past ass boyfriends*, and I think that's a better explanation as to why I twinge at the mention of other girls' names at times. Whatever it is, it's there, and I have got to learn to control it.

I'm one of those girlfriends that can find a reason to be jealous for absolutely no reason whatsoever. I trust the guy ("sure you do," you're thinking), but I KNOW the inner-workings of a female mind. Hell, I've worked some magic in my days by being that manipulative-but-seemingly-innocent girl who gets in the middle of something she could clearly keep her nose out of.

I'm not saying that guys are oblivious to this, or that they're too naive to notice when a girl fancies him. What I am saying is that, since I know how it works all too well, I have a strong tendency to see things that aren't there, create situations in my head that haven't even happened and will never happen. And because of this, I think I am a good candidate as one of "those" girls who needlessly sabotages a good, neigh, GREAT thing.

Time to reign in that green-eyed monster. I think now I can throw those trust issues out the window, and accept that I will, one day, be somebody's everything. They will want for nothing more.


*Some, not all

Okay, so maybe she's not my identical twin, or fraternal even (as I'm about a year older than she is), but I swear, we are related.

This Saturday, at 11:30AM to be exact, I met my first blogger friend. In person, that is. Lauren and I met up at Chipotle for an early lunch and some gab time. And I'm so glad we did.

Lauren is a beautiful, funny, inquizative, caring, strong, happy, and optimistic person. Yes, I concluded that in the mere 2 hours we spent together. She's a great listener and makes you feel like what you are droning on and on about is that day's headline news. She listened intently as I told her about my family, my Darling, my schooling, and tons of other little details that I'm sure have no importance to most other people.

I, in turn, listened to her stories of past relationships and current questions of inner thoughts and feelings. She told me about the different seminary (right, L?) schools she's applied to, and about how she feels drawn to one location in particular. I learned a bit about her family, and that she has a special place in her heart for Toy Joy. And apparently, she's one of those people that can travel to a different city and STILL run into someone she knows!

I wish I could have spent all day with her, sitting at our little table, picking at our burrito bowls and spilling intimate and not-so-intimate details about ourselves. I wish she wasn't leaving in the summer, but I'm so happy that she's choosing to follow God's plan for her life.

As we were walking to our cars (oh, and her new Honda is just beautiful, complete with "new car smell") she said to me, "You know, I feel like we're old friends". I feel the same way. It's crazy (as I mentioned on her blog) how there are a few people out in this world that are JUST like you...your soul's friend-twin...and sometimes you are fortunate enough to meet those people. When that happens, you have no choice but to take a step back and think, "how did I go this long in my life without having this person a part of it?" Well, no longer will that be in the case of Lauren and myself (if I have anything to say about it)!

I see her rapidly becoming one of my closest friends based on the sole fact that we are basically the same person! We're an hour an a half away now, and after this summer, we may be states apart, but I am willing to maintain this friendship that we've cultivated and get to know this person that is eerily similar to myself. I'd be crazy not to!

So, thank you, Lauren, for making that drive to spend 2 hours with a girl you barely knew. I'm so thankful you did, and look forward to a long and valuable friendship no matter where we are. Remember: next time it's me visiting you, and lunch, dinner, whatever, is MY treat!!

I am officially old.

Yesterday, whilst mulling over various SPSS formulas and syntax, X and I started talking about our hair (yes, we DO get work done anyway. We’re women, we MULTI-task, see?). She was advising me on the next set of highlights I should don, and I had to shake my head in disbelief at the words that next sprang from her mouth:

“Lanette,” she began quizzically, “Are you going gray?”

Wha, wha, WHAT???

“Um, I don’t think so,” I ventured slowly, “…why…do you see something?”
“Not to freak you out,” too late, “but I think I see a gray hair.”
“GETITOUT, GETITOUT, GETITOUT,” I shouted, as if a wasp had landed in my hair, got itself tangled up, and stung me repeatedly on my scalp*.

X then separated the imposter from the rest of my brown/blonde locks, and being the stubborn, gray, coarse hair that it was, it refused to dislodge from my scalp on one yank. But soon (after 3 more good tugs), there it was, laid on her desk in all its graying (non)glory. We both stared in horror.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” were X’s only words of comfort to me.

After a thorough head check (hey, we needed a break from the SPSS stuff, that crap can kill you if you stare at it too long), she found at least 3 more grayies. And these were not hairs that COULD have been mistaken for the blonde strands I have naturally** been blessed with, no. These were undeniably GRAY hairs. They were of a different texture—thick, stiff, and almost white.

She stopped after the hair count of grays rose to three. She said it was because she couldn’t find any more. I think it was because she saw the tears welling up in my eyes.

Now, I don’t know about the rest of my female readers (or heck, even male readers) out there, but if you’re like me, you are in a sheer state of panic whilst in the shower every night because of the multitude of hairs you lose that eventually you end up sprawling out and gluing to the shower wall. Seriously, for a while when I was younger, I thought I was sick, and a side effect of the illness was hair loss. I even got tested for it, no lie. I have come to understand that it’s okay to lose about 100 hairs a day. But I seem to lose a LOT more than that; I lose 100 in the shower alone! That was a big enough worry. But now…THIS? GRAY HAIR???

Luckily, X told me that the wisdom hairs she found still planted securely in my head were buried underneath the other still-youthful hairs. So, although it may not be obvious, I am going gray. I’m only 24. Damn the stress.

So, Santa, if you’re reading this, I would very much like to find my very own, personal Rascal Scooter under our Christmas tree this year. My hair predicts I’ll need it sooner than I thought.



*A true story that befell my Darling.
** Am I lying?

It's hard to be in the Christmas spirit when you're family's not doing so well. Although I am so incredibly excited to see my Darling, I can't help but be a bit down in the Christmas dumps because of a bunch of other stuff that's going on. I just feel so helpless, because, unless I gave up my job to become a full-time caretaker, or took on about 6 more jobs to support my mom and daddy, there's really not much I can do to help.

I just hate to see things this way. I know that was probably the most vague statement in the history of the world, but do you know what I mean? You see so many people that you love just hurting so badly, but there's nothing you can do to fix it, nothing you can say to make it better. I know that when I was in grad school for counseling, they teach you to listen instead of give advice. And there's also a reason why the Number One Cardinal Rule is: Never, ever, under any circumstance, counsel a family member. I fully understand why.

I have to say, the only thing saving me from becoming a complete scrooge this Christmas is the upcoming visit. However, that will happen the day after Christmas. So, I'm employing you, the readers of MOHland, to please suggest some things I could do to get more into the holiday spirit. They could be activities you do, movies you watch, special drinks or foods...anything. One rule though: please don't reference anything along the lines of "build a snowman!" for obvious reason (for those of you not-so-sharp tools, I live in Tejas; it's like, 75 degress here or something outrageous).

I would appreciate anything you could throw my way. I'm SO Christmas. This is the first year where I have a very scared, hopeless feeling. Sorry to bring down the happy happy joy joy level, but I had to get this off my chest.

Merriness shall resume in a few days.

I wish I was British so I could yell: "Oh, bloody hell!"

Gah, someone stole my baby name!

Alright, so ever since I was, I don't know, 17 and thinking I wanted a baby at that time (yes, I went through *that* phase), I began keeping a list of all the baby names, both boy and girl, that I found unique, beautiful, strapping, etc. I've got a good, oh, I don't know, 20 names for each sex, and I had finally decided on a name for a boy.

It came from a movie that I was (am) totally in love with. Some of you may scoff at me, and I say "Fine, scoff away", but this movie really touched my heart. So much so that I saw it about six times in the theater, read the book, own the movie poster (and I don't OWN movie posters), bought the VHS and DVD (just in case) and sing along to the CD. I know just about every line to the whole blasted movie.

This was a movie about true love, a restoration of faith, and giving your heart to someone even if you know by doing so would break yours in the end. It was how I wanted love to be for me. It was how I saw myself being loved, and loving back. Eerily, it mirrors my current relationship on so many different levels. So, it was only fitting that I named my first born son after the main character of this movie.

But they STOLE it. THIEVES!

I saw on my Friendster profile (yes, I have one, but rarely check it) that an ex-friend of mine, who is pregnant with her second boy, had stolen the name right out from under me! Her and her husband (as she blogged about it) couldn't come to an agreement between two other (forgive me for saying, but quite harsh sounding) names, so they just picked this one randomly. And here I've been, planning out for YEARS that this was going to be the forename of my first born son!

The bitch of it all is, this girl and I used to be really good friends. I was the maid of honor in her wedding, for Heaven's sake. But we had a falling out over something stupid, like a boy, and it exploded into the mess that it never had to be. So, we lost contact. I've run into her a few times in the past, and it was the usual "Oh my gosh, you should TOTALLY call me, we'll hang out" scenario you'd imagine it to be. But other than that, she has not been a part of my recent life. Until now. How fitting.

Well, the joke's on her. Just the other day, several wonderful baby boy names were brought to my attention that are far better than the one I had picked out. So she can have it. Now, if she has yet another boy, or bears a girl next time round, and uses ANOTHER one of my names*, there will be hell to pay. Hell, I tells ya!

10 more days**


*Okay, so I don't OWN them, but I should.
**Again, according to OUR countdown.

Ain't it great?

I spent my whole Saturday doing absolutely nothing. But, as I explained to my Darling earlier today, I have a great logic for this, and here 'tis: All day every day at work, I'm thinking exactly two things. One is: I miss my Darling. The second is: I wish I was sleeping. So, I figure the weekend is the time to do the things that you most want to do during the week, but little annoyances (i.e. my job) won't allow you to do them. So, it's perfectly justifiable that I spend an entire Saturday sleeping. Right? (Ahem: please validate me, readers.)

However, it renders me defenseless against insomnia.

So, here I sit, it's 5:01 in the AM, and I'm writing only because I'm waiting for my sleepy pill to kick in. When I start having to hit the "backspace" key more than 5 times for one sentence, then I will know it's time to stumble into my oh-so-comfy bed.

Until then, here are some random thoughts I've had in this bought of restlessness:

1.) I had no idea Richard Pryor died today due to a heart attack until I saw a very old episode of "Larry King Live" playing on one of those stations. It's always weird to know that someone famous has died. Not too sure why, it just is.

2.) Why do they wait until everyone is asleep to play the videos on MTV and VH1? I will never, for the life of me, understand this. THEY ARE MUSIC STATIONS. PLAY MUSIC WHEN PEOPLE ARE STILL AWAKE! Don't get me wrong, I adore "I Love the 80s", but throw some videos into the mix, and I will be a much happier, more frequent viewer.

3.) Similarly, why in the hell are all the infomercials on at 3AM and later? Is it because they think people at this hour are so delusional that they'll actually BUY into what their trying to sell? Geez, I mean...oh, hold the phone! It's a juicer! Not only do you get your daily fruits intake, but you can get your healthy dose of veggies too! Yes, you can put the POTATO in WITH THE SKIN ON, and it, along with the carrots, tomatoes, onions, beets, brussel sprouts, lima beans, broccoli, squash, green beans and celery sticks, will blend into the best tasting smoothie your mouth has ever experienced! Raw food in liquid form? Damn, I gotta write this number down...

Onward:

4.) They keep showing the commercial for "Amp'd Mobile" (that was about 4 "backspace" keys, it's getting close to beddy-bye time). These adverts (for the Brits!) are appauling! No, they REALLY are, and it takes a lot to offend me. So far, I've seen only two version of the commercial. One was some teenage kid who's clearing O.D.ing on drugs. He's lying, lifeless save for a few twitches, on the floor of some expensive mansion, and the maid is speaking to him in Spanish. The subtitles read something along the lines of "You can't die now, you'll miss the new Amp'd phone. You're an idiot!" The second one I saw had a hooker, seriously, straddling a man, and jumping (suggestively) on him, "trying" to give him CPR. The whole time this man is gasping for air, and she's screaming "Senator, no, you can't die now"...Amp'd Mobile plug inserted. I find these neither effective nor in good taste. Where have all the GOOD, funny commercials gone? (Although I do have to give it up to Geico, theirs are pretty damn funny, especially the caveman ones).

5.) Remember how I was griping (#2) about never seeing the videos during the daytime? Well, now I'm griping that they play the same ones OVER and OVER again. But I'm not going to complain about them playing the James Blunt video "You're Beautiful" repeatedly. Man, I love that song.

6.) [sorry to offend anyone, but...] Madonna, much like U2, should just finally call it quits! I mean, really!

7.) I took a whole roll of film (yes, 24 pictures) in one night, at one place. It was the CP Christmas Party. Good times, I shall post some pictures if y'all want. Hell, *I* want to. So you're getting 'em, whether you want to or not.

8.) I haven't sent out my Christmas cards yet. This leads me (somehow) to believe I will be a crap mother.

9.) I've had a headache for 3 days straight. I thought at first it was my contacts (because it feels like hot pokers are being jabbed into my eye sockets), but after I extracted my contacts out, the pain persisted still. I think it's in my neck now. Aside from a massage I can't afford right now, does anyone know how to alleviate this?

and finally:

10.) If you're thinking that you just wasted [however long it took you to finish this] minutes of your life, precious minutes that you will never regain, and you are kicking yourself for it, just blame my Darling. He's been gone since I got home from seeing Narnia. If he was awake to keep me company, I would not be spewing such filth. Alas, he has somewhat of a normal sleeping pattern. Still. It's all. His. Fault.* ***

Goodnight friends. Until Monday next. And what's it now? Let me check my Advent Calendar...11 MORE DAYS**!

P.S. It took me exactly 30 minutes to pen this.


*He has this way, though, of making me love him even more, despite it being his fault. He's got some magic about him.

**According to OUR standards.

*** About 2 mintues after I finished writing this post, Darling arrived. I still hold that it's his fault, but it sure is good to see him.

I realized today that my mother worries more about me NOW than she (seemingly) did when I was younger. This baffles me.

It all started last night. I was phoned up by dear ol' mom to be forewarned about possible icy overnight conditions:

"Please be careful on the roads!"
"I will Mom, don't worry."
"Keep BOTH HANDS on the wheel."
"I will Mom."
"And watch for other idiots on the road!"
"Got it, Mom."
"And go out and put your sun shades on your windshield so you won't have ice on it in the morning."
"Already have, Mom."
"And dress warm, do you have a hat?"
"No, Mom, I don't need a hat."
"Do you want to borrow my black fuzzy Russian hat?"
"No, Mom, I'm walking 30 feet into an office."
"Please be careful on the roads."
"Geez, Mom, I will! I've driven before, you know, going on 9 years now!"
"I know, I just worry about you so much."
"Don't worry, Mom."
"Keep both hands on the wheel!"
"SIGHHHHH"

And that was just last night. Take that conversation and multiply the annoying factor by about 100, and you have our conversation from tonight, when I was leaving Hometown* to drive back to SA.

My mom once told me, "You will always be 16 years old to me." I never really knew how to take this (Compliment? Insult?). Yes, I look really young for my age (as I'm constantly told), but I have a feeling she meant something different. Something along the lines of: I'm always going to be that naive young girl who constantly needs her mother in times of good and bad. And I think she couldn't function if it were any other way.

I make fun of her a lot. So does my sissy, brother in law, and daddy. Her last-minute, out-the-door warnings have become so routine in our house that Daddy has adopted mumbling "Warsh your hands" as mother is spewing out her final notes of caution. Sissy will laugh and add "Watch for deer on the road", and Brother in Law will chime in with, "And watch for idiots on the road" (these were the most common phrases in our household after sissy turned 16). I think Mom gets really flustered with us at times because whilst we are ribbing her, she is still being completely and totally serious. She has taken to simply frowning at us and throwing in a last "Be Careful**" as I head out the door.

These cautionary statements just about drive me bonkers everytime I hear them, but it's the type of thing where, if I wasn't warned, I would feel uneasy driving back home. I know my mom means well and just loves us so much that she couldn't stand the thought of anything ever happening to my sissy or myself. Amidst all the joking, I love my mother so much for caring so deeply for me.

I just find it so odd that, now that I'm an adult (really, I am) and on my own, she's MORE worried about me than when I actually was a 16 year old kid.

"You back at your apartment now?"
"Yes, made it home fine."
"Did you lock your door?"
"Yep."
"Both locks?"
"Of course."
"Check your closet just to be sure no one's hiding in there."
"Mom, c'mon, you're making me paranoid."
"Go do it while I'm still on the phone with you."
--opening closet door--
"Hey, lookie there! Sure 'nuff, a masked man with a gun AND a knife is crouching amongst my Etnies! What's that, you say, Masked Man? You're going to WHAT me? Oh, okay, well, let me get off the phone with my mom first, mkay? Be right back."
"Boy, I swear! That's not funny!"
"Goodnight, Mom."
(the I spend the rest of the night scared out of my socks that there really IS a masked man hiding in my shoes.)

*The use of "Hometown" must be credited to my Darling.
**Kate, say it out loud, right now!

I'm sleepy. Hands down, I should be in bed right now. But because YOU are so taken with MOH, here are some random (see: boring) events from my day:

My co-workers decorated the office Christmas tree today. Sure, I wanted to help, but only two people can wrap lights on the tree (any more than that and it just gets messy). I was going to pitch in when the ornament hanging took place. However, I went back to my desk when my boss briskly walked past me, giving me that "you're not really working and I'm going to make a mental note of this" look as she huffed past. That's a scary look.

I came home for lunch wanting Ramen Noodles. Now, I haven't really cooked much on my stove and in my oven since I moved in, so I'm still adjusting to the ways and ticks of the appliance. But, I mean, they're Ramen Noodles--it's not freaking rocket science. I filled up the pot with 2 cups of water, turned the burner on, and excused myself to potty whilst the heat kicked in. I didn't, however, bother to check and see if there were any food particles in the bowels of the burner...and before I knew it, I was choking on the foggy cloud of smoke that was quickly filling my apartment. Deathly afraid that my smoke detector would go off and the complex office would call the Big Red Engine, I tried to waft the smoke out the front and balcony doors. No alarms were sounded, but my apartment STILL smells a bit charred. As do I. *cough*

In a related incident, I attempted to make grilled cheese tonight, and, lover of stupidity that I am, forgot that my burners heated up so fast, and oh, so hot. So yes, I burned my finger. Twice. It stings so bad.

Apparently working out and gauging your estimated timeframe before you can pass out is NOT able to be measured in songs from the "Rockin' Songs" playlist on your iPod. It's so good to be out of breath and wanting to die from soreness again.

I finished Christmas decorating and hung my mistletoe. Now there's no excuse for me not to be kissed. Unless it falls down. Or gets stolen. Damn neighbors.

At a dentist appointment, I found out that I have NO cavities and bought a professional tooth whitening system (yes, the one the DENTIST uses) for half price. White teeth, here I come. Like Ross in that Friends episode. Har har.

Harvey Birdman has climbed into second place as my favorite animated television show (right after Family Guy).

This list has started to get boring, so I will end it now. Nighty Night MOH friends.

To All Readers of this Blog:

Apologies for the lack of posting...or even, creative posting at that. I am still trying to settle back in after being in D.C. Nope, not a very valid excuse, I know. But in between this adjustment period there have been several other activities including:

Christmas shopping
Decorating my parent's house and our family Christmas tree
Catching up on my dear shows that I taped in my absence
Eagerly peeling back the cardboard doors of my advent calendar, beaming at the fact that a mere 20 days remain
Taking care of my mom post-foot surgery
Loving on my doggie
Spending time with a much missed boyfriend

Clearly these tasks take precedence over unpacking. Clearly.

Maybe a picture from D.C. will substitute for my lack of words? Give you that fix you've been needing? I thought so. I give you: Me and Katie in D.C. Enjoy.


Random factoid about MOH: There was a point in my life where my career aspirations included touring the world as a back-up dancer. And that wasn't too long ago, either. *cough*

...because there's no place like home.

Well, kiddos, I'm back. Shortest post in the history of MOHland, but I'm exhausted, still-packed, and unbathed. Need sleepy.

I'll regale y'all sometime soon (possibly tomorrow when I'm supposed to be doing work?) with the tales and traumas of my First Ever Bidness Twip, but for now, I just wanted to say 'allo and I felt withdrawl symptoms from not having my daily dose of Blog Reading. Needless to say, I have a lot of posts from yous guys to catch up on. Again, an activity set asides for my return to the office tomorrow...yes, I'll do some work too, geez. I'm too straight-laced NOT to.

Thanks for all the well-wishes, guys. I'll be up and running again sometime soon. Until then, I have to take at least 10 showers to get this stank off of me.

(Um, can I just share my excitement? Today, the countdown OFFICALLY begins. 24 more days! EEEEEEEK!)

Oh, and for those of you who watch Family Guy but didn't quite understand this part, now you know. So simple, yet so, so funny.