Rule #17 - Slip Slidin' Away

If you are playing office rec-league softball on a gravel-like surface and your team is down 14-4 with 2 outs in the last inning, it is completely unnecessary to attempt to slide into home. You'll embarrass yourself and lose half the skin on your outer thigh.

Your team will still lose because you were tagged out on the slide.

The picture doesn't do this battle scar justice. It does look pretty bad @$$, though.

True Story Tuesday - Sometimes They Call Me Mia

If I had half as much athletic skill as competitive drive, I could probably be an Olympian. I'm the only person I know who can turn a foosball match into an aerobic activity or choreograph a victory dance when I win a round of Mall Madness; however, I can also be humbled beyond humbled, as I learned not so long ago.

I transferred to my high school alma mater after my freshman year. As a new sophomore I was a member of the volleyball, swim and soccer teams. I had been the starting goalkeeper on the varsity team my freshman year at a small Christian school, but at my new, huge public school, I was a second string keeper on JV. Of course, I didn't mind that so much, since my previous team went 0-11-1. I just wanted to win. Our high school's varsity team regularly contended for the state title, and expectations were astronomically high.

My first game as a member of the junior varsity squad was against a weak opponent. At halftime we were up 8-0, thanks heavily in part to my solid play at starting right bench. Our AARP-card-carrying-shaven-leg-ponytailed-fashion-design-instructing-man coach decided that the start of the second half was the perfect setting for my moment of glory. As I trotted out to the goal, I felt a surge of adrenaline and excitement.

The objective of the second half was fairly simple... our team wasn't allowed to score a goal unless we achieved eight passes. Most of the action was taking place in the form of keep-away amongst our defensive unit. Feeling confident I assertively demanded that our center defender pass the ball back for me to clear to our midfielders. Our she-male all-star turned to pass it back, but apparently she was disoriented and wasn't sure where she was on the field. Instead of a gentle pass, my teammate turned and shot on goal. Unable to stop the ball with my hands, I stuck to my plan to clear the ball with a swift kick to the ball's leather gut.

With the proper angle, goal and motion, I launched my foot toward the spherical missile hurtling toward me. Expecting to feel foot-meet-leather, I was shocked when, instead, I was met with empty air. With a collective gasp from the crowd I turned as the ball continued to travel swiftly toward the net. In slow motion I tried to chase down the errant play. My struggle was to no avail. Despite urging inertia to cease all existence, the ball swished soundly into the back of the net. When the game ended the score tallied a respectable 9-1.

Although my tears flowed in a torrential downpour of shame and embarrassment, for the duration of the season my sensitive coach continued to report each week that as a team we had only allowed one goal... the goal that I whiffed (skillfully, of course). Unsurprisingly, my illustrious soccer career ended shortly thereafter. I still get mistaken for Mia Hamm around the Queen City.

A Change Will Do You Good

My large, green, shaggy area rug has seen better days. Between failed puppy potty training and general malodor, it was time for a change. A trip to Old Time Pottery yielded both a new rug (thick, fluffy and designed with a subtle neutral stripe) and beautiful floor lamp. When I got home with my new spoils I realized, aghast, that my new rug was much, much smaller than my old one (yes, most people would have measured beforehand, but no matter for this girl). I decided that my fresh and downsized home decor required a revamped living room layout. Behold the results:

BEFORE

AFTER

What a Boob

Hi Sweet Ladies, I know I've been a stranger lately. Of course, I'm still in a blogging funk, and while I would love to regale you with anecdotes rich in hilarity, I don't have any to share (many promises to get back on track shortly). What do I have for you today, though, is a reminder and warning.

I'm 22, and I have never taken self-examination or mammograms very seriously. Of course I've considered them important for older women, but not for myself. Over the last few months I have developed several hard, painful knots in my upper right breast tissue. The number has increased in the last few weeks, and in my hypochondriac head, I feel as though they've also grown in size.

I'm sure that these knots are nothing more than calcium deposits, or something else non-serious, but the discovery really alerted me to the need for regular physicals, a good relationship with your OB-GYN or internist, and excellent overall health. Thankfully I have many of those, and I was able to schedule an appointment for Friday afternoon.

Again, this post isn't "Poor Polka Dots," but rather my own personal BSA (blogger service announcement) to never be complacent or apathetic about your health and body. Stay well, dear friends!

I hope you all enjoyed a blessed and wonderful Memorial Day weekend!

Flatlining

That's what my blog activity has been like this week.

Do I have anything funny or witty to send out into the blog unknown today? The answer is no.

My life has been rather topsy-turvy since last week when I was offered a promotion of sorts. I was given the opportunity to take a new position in the agency and out of the public relations department. My new position has me reporting directly to Madame P and combines new business outreach, community relations, agency networking and some public relations. I'm absolutely thrilled and was beyond flattered to be considered, but I'm also terrified. I know the change will be refreshing and wonderful, considering that I was at the end of my rope and about to explode in my old department, but the expectations are huge, and my personal relationship with Madame P does complicate matters a bit, as well. Overall I am so excited and ready to get my hands on my new projects and duties. My first official day was yesterday, and so far everything is exactly what I hoped for, but I know the learning curve will quickly disappear. Bear with me as I get used to my new surroundings, responsibilities, tasks and supervisors. I'm definitely in for an interesting ride!

Happy Almost-End-Of-The-Week, Dolls!

True Story Tuesday: Traumatizing

My poor sweet Sadie has been through a lot in her short life... having a family (maybe?), being abandoned in a field, being caged for a week at the animal control shelter, battling pneumonia, kennel cough and innumerable ear infections, and Jon & Kate Plus 8.

She is one of the most loving, gentle, cuddly pups I've ever had the pleasure of being around, but Pupcake is very skittish. Vacuum cleaners, motorcycles, motorized wheelchairs and plastic grocery bags are the bane of her furry little existence. We can now add to that list, the Gosselin children.

Sadieroodle has always had a difficult time with kids. Something about their high pitched voices, need to squeeze her and similar size really throws off the little girl. Her paranoia, however, has now spread from actual children in her path to those on TV. This weekend I was tuning into a Jon & Kate marathon. Sadiekins was sleeping soundly on the sofa next to me, when Aaden, Alexis and Leah began arguing and crying. As soon as she heard them, Sadie was off the couch standing stock still in front of the television. Every hair on her back was standing straight up and she began growling and barking at one half of the sextuplet clan.

Throughout the rest of the episodes, nothing I did could placate the pooch. She remained transfixed on the screen and followed each movement of the tots on the screen. When one would cry... or laugh... or yell... or make any noise, her hair would stand up, and the growling began. Poor thing couldn't handle it, bless her heart.

Of course, I'm assuming it was the children that scared her... it very easily could have been Kate.

So scary!

Standing guard.

Exhausted from the trauma.

Un-Send

Have you ever been trying to email or text someone about someone else, but because that person is on your mind you accidentally email/text them??? Orrrr instead of pressing "Forward" you hit "Reply." Ummm, I'm not saying this just happened to me or anything, but surely it's happened to one of you, right?

Rule #16 - Gotta Have My Pops

If you put a mini-bag of kettlecorn in the microwave and hit "Popcorn," then leave it unattended, do not be surprised if you must:

1. Fumigate your house due to the overwhelming burnt popcorn smell.

2. Find something else to eat for dinner.

Mini-bags need mini-popping time.

Sunday Praise

Worship: "The Heart of Worship"

"I'll bring you more than a song, for a song in itself is not what you have required. You search much deeper within, through the way things appear; you're looking into my heart..." How many times have I gotten so excited to sing my favorite worship song during a church service that I don't focus on the words or the One I'm singing to? How many times have I gotten distracted by the people beside me; the odor from in front of me; the whispering behind me? Being able to sing words mean nothing if my heart is not worshipping, glorifying and magnifying the wonders of the Lord. "A song in itself is not what you have required..." when I can focus my thoughts and my heart on the blessings that I have been given through Christ's sacrifice for me, then I am truly worshipping. Whether I worship Him through music or through my spiritual gifts, God wants my actions to be worshipful rather than an afterthought. How convicting to dedicate all of my words, skills, actions and thoughts to worship the One who made me.

Awesuuuh

Did any of you watch the season of the Bachelor with Lorenzo Borghese in Italy? What a memorable cast they had, including Erica (the socialite princess) and Agnese (the native Italian stunner). In one of the episodes, Erica and Agnese were alone in the mansion, and Agnese was trying to imitate any American accent. When Erica said, "Awesoooome!" Agnese repeated with, "Awesuuuuuuuuh." That's one of my favorite moments "in Bachelor history."

Why the diatribe about ABC's The Bachelor? Well, my dearest Queen Bee Swain has tagged me with the Awe-Summm award! How thoughtful!


Now, for my part, I'm supposed to list 7 awesuuuuh things:
1. It's Boyfriend's birthday today!!! AND even more awesuuuuh, I get to spend it with him!
2. Big, huge changes are happening with my professionally. The jury is still out on the awesuuuh-ness factor, but I can't wait to share details.
3. Despite two weeks of hair heinous-ness, things are getting better. PHEW!
4. Lane Kiffin is bringing the Vols back to power in a few short months.
5. Sis is home for the summer!
6. Answers to prayers are coming in left and right.
7. My sewing instructor hates Tyra Banks as much I do.

Were you expecting something a little more... me? Yeah, me too, but my head is totally spinning this week (promise details to come), so this is about all I can muster. BUT Happy Birthday to B and happy Thursday to all of you loves!

Knock Knock

I was a born comedian. I clearly grasped the concept of both the "knock-knock" and "what did the x say to the y" joke templates. At the tender age of 4 I came up with these inta-classics.

What did the tomato say to the lettuce?
Let's make a salad!
If I was revising to today's comedic standard I would exchange "lettuce" for "carrot" and "Let's" for "Lettuce." Either way, though... hilarious, clearly.

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Mary.
Mary who?
Mary the Mother of Jesus!*


*As a non-Catholic, I had a suprisingly strong affinity for the Virgin Mary and played dress-up often by draping a blanket over my head while pretending to ride a donkey. Baby Sis often played the role of Baby Jesus.
** I also had a very strong speech impediment/lisp/word slurring, so "Jesus" was pronounced "Gethuth" while "Mary the Mother" was "Mawee the Mothuh."

A Weekend Snapshot

Below are pictures from the weekend, which include a continuous hair crisis on my part; a margarita party at my aunt's house; my Little rocking a triathlon; a dress I wore to every event (the first successful product of our sewing venture) and a very fleshy face. See if you can find each of these things!

The Daily Grind

Hi Sweets!

What a lovely weekend I had celebrating my beautiful mom. It was so nice just spending time with family (minus my big brother). Activities included, but were not limited to, pedicures, lunch at McCormick & Schmick's, cheering at a triathlon, church and lots of Whatever, Martha!

I have pictures, but someone (coughSiscough) needs to email them to me, so I can post. Expect a photo-philled entry soon! Now back to the real world and a busy week!

Monday:
First night of sewing classes with a lady calling herself Mrs. Stine (short for her first name Ernestine). She makes hats and handbags with Scripture and fur - Sassy to the extreme.
Tuesday:
Showing my apartment to yet another potential roommate.
Time spent with my sweet Sis, who's home for the summer
Wednesday:
O.A.R. free concert in Uptown Charlotte!
Softball doubleheader
Thursday:
Boyfriend's birthday!
Dinner plans and fun scheduled
Friday:
A day off!
Originally planned to go fishing with B, but the plans have changed since Baby Sis and I will be spending the weekend babysitting for the daughter of Olympian Summer Sanders (who's more profound job titles include sportscaster and host of Nickelodeon's critically acclaimed Figure It Out!). Seriously a random story, but it should be fun, lucrative, and an amazing opportunity to network with Summer and other sports commentators - my dream job to end all dream jobs.

You Put the Lime in the Coconut...

There are many margaritas in my near future. This afternoon I'm leaving work a smidge early to trek to Winston-Salem to fete my uncle's 50th birthday with a Fajitas & Margaritas party. Before my departure, though, we're having an office fiesta complete with original, mango and strawberry 'ritas. Yum! Are you a frozen or on the rocks kind of girl?

I don't have much to share today, but I realized that I have never contributed a recipe to Polka Dots & Protein Bars, which saddens me greatly. I am an avid baker, and I want to be Paula Deen when I grow up, so why I have never shared my plethora of favorite dishes is beyond me. To celebrate my first recipe posting, I wanted to start off with a bang... one of the easiest, richest, most sinful desserts... Caramel Apple Cake with Caramel Topping.

Paula Deen's Caramel Apple Cake with Caramel Topping
Cake:
2 1/2 cups sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 cups vegetable oil
3 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup chopped walnuts (I use pecans)
2 1/2 cup chopped apples (usually 1-2 large apples)

Topping:
3 sticks butter
2 cups brown sugar
1/4 cup milk

Lightly grease and flour 13 x 9 baking dish; Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream together sugar, eggs and oil. Add flour; mix together until well blended; add vanilla, nuts and apples.
Spread into pan; bake for 45 to 60 minutes. Cake is done when toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.
To make the topping, heat all ingredients together over medium heat; bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Let boil for 3 minutes.
When cake is done, punch holes in the top with a knife and pour topping over warm cake.

Delicious!!!

Eight Ate Aight

Miss Adorably Distracted tagged me in the game of eights... Ready? Let's take her for a spin...

8 THINGS I LOOK FORWARD TO

1. A long weekend next week
2. A trip to the Florida Keys in June
3. Getting rid of my fugtrocious hairdo
4. Eating a peanut butter & banana sandwich
5. Celebrating Boyfriend's birthday
6. Making cute dresses
7. Being a mom
8. 5:00 p.m.

8 THINGS I DID YESTERDAY

1. Woke up
2. Got pretty
3. Worked out
4. Ate PB&B
5. Piddled at my desk
6. Celebrated my Sis coming home for the summer!
7. Watched America's Next Top Model
8. Snuggled with Sadieroodle Pupsadoodle

8 THINGS I WISH I COULD DO

1. Make lots of money
2. Write children's books
3. Own my own bakery
4. Run my own boutique
5. Write this blog for a living
6. Dance like something other than the whitest girl on earth
7. Be America's Next Top Model
8. Make a difference in someone's life

8 SHOWS I WATCH

1. Gossip Girl
2. Greek
3. 90210
4. America's Next Top Model
5. Ace of Cakes

6. Whatever, Martha
7. Animal Cops
8. Deadliest Catch
9. Paula's Home Cooking

I think everyone and their mom has played this game, but if you haven't, please know that I'm tagging Y-O-U!

True Story Tuesday

I would be remiss to let yet another Tuesday slip by me without contributing a true story to the blogosphere. Today's tale centers around a subject that I don't address too often on this little page of mine: Boys. Not only am I in a happily committed relationship (meaning a. that BF is the only boy I discuss and b. there really isn't ever any drama in our partnership, or at least nothing blogworthy), but I haven't really dated too much. The male species who have featured most prominently in my years on this earth include:

- The Guy's Guy ~ Positively perfect in every way. Truly. He took me on my first date when I was 16 and was the first boy I ever held hands with. He's now gay. I promise I didn't contribute to or influence his sexuality. Much.

- The Teddy Bear ~ Coming off my mortally wounded heart, Teddy was the perfect solace. I have documented our adventures together in a previous post.

- The Cowboy ~ His screen name was jdeere16, and he stole my heart. He also played games with it like no one I have ever met. He gave me first real kiss (a little tongue involved... ooooh yeah), then immediately told me he had crushes on my three best friends (he really liked the way Georgia Peach bit her bottom lip and touched her hair) but had zero interest in me because I "wasn't very cuddly." Ummm, hello, Major Self-Esteem Issues?! Besides the fact that I am VERY cuddly... just ask Lobster or Boyfriend.

- The Soldier ~ This was my first serious relationship. We were together for 2.5 years, which spanned my senior year of high school through the end of my sophomore year in college, and it was probably 2 years too many. He's now stationed in Iraq. I could probably fill this entire blog with true stories of this character, his family and our relationship that would keep you up at night. I could write a book detailing how you know when a relationship is kaput (and how to escape with any shreds of self confidence intact):

"If the boy you are dating, who also happens to have a morbidly obese mother, tells you that watching you eat disgusts him... the relationship is probably over."

"If the boy you are dating, who is really only marginally attractive anyway, informs you that on the attractiveness scale, your best friend is 'hot and pretty' while you rate as 'cute'... the relationship is probably over."

- And of course, there's sweet Boyfriend, who I'm realizing needs a much more creative name. Hmmm, that's not the point of this post, but it is something to mull over. He is wonderful and fantastic and amazing and everything I could ask for. Blah blah blah... mush mush mush...

These are really the main men in my life, but I had a brief cameo by one dubbed The Baby Daddy.

Almost a year-and-a-half into our "relationship," The Soldier decided it would be best to lose the exclusivity tag and be able to date other people. As it turned out, I was the only one out of the two of us who ever actually took advantage of the arrangement (Soldier asked out three of my friends, who, naturally, all turned him down... another sign that your relationship is dunzo). Soldier never would agree to end the silly "open relationship," and it led to confusion, hurt, jealousy and all around badness. I really don't recommend this course of action.

About the time that things had reached their breaking point (but still a year before I came to my senses and ended things?), Soldier and his three roommates hosted a foam party at their apartment. As it would seem, the foam party became legendary before it even happened (raging foam machine pouring suds into an apartment? Of course it was a hit). Friends, neighbors and strangers alike flocked from all over to be part of the foam party. As I was trying to escape the foaming masses, my eyes met those of someone I had never met. He was very forward about letting me know he was interested in me (having everything to do with my charming, sparkling personality and nothing whatsoever with my strangely magnetic badonkadonk, I'm sure). Now, I'll pause here to say that this stranger was someone I would never, ever be interested in or attracted to, and was someone who would enrage Soldier were he to observe our communication, so, of course, I latched on.

I learned that my new friend was a member of the NC State football team, was Soldier's neighbor and felt very inappropriate things toward me. At the end of the evening with only those three shreds of information, Friend and I exchanged numbers and said goodnight (he actually suggested other activities, but again, uninterested). We exchanged texts, IMs and the occasional face-to-face conversation for several weeks, which pretty much involved me deflecting tawdry advances. One evening as I was exiting Soldier's abode, I discovered Mr. Feisty escorting his own company out of his apartment, and I happened to notice that she was... erm... with child. I thought it was a strange arrangement, and he was clearly embarrassed to be seen with her, so I just waited and texted him later asking who his companion was.

I received the very suspect answer, "A friend." I pointed out that she was a heavily pregnant friend, and he agreed that she was indeed about to have a child and was someone he'd known from high school. Right. Several days after that, Feisty McFeisterson appeared outside my dorm, kissed me (huh?!) and disappeared. I didn't hear from him for almost a week, which was really no problem in my book, but strange behavior, nonetheless. When he finally re-emerged on the scene I inquired about his absence.

"I'm a dad now."

"Um, you're a dad all of a sudden?"

"Yeah."

"Did your pregnant friend have her baby?"

"Uh huh."

"And, coincidentally, did it happen to be your baby too?"

"Yeah."

"You kissed me randomly."

"If I asked you wouldn't let me, and I was on my way to the hospital."

"Mmmkay. Happy Father's Day! Bye."

~ END SCENE ~

Okay, several lessons can be gleaned from this story and Baby Daddy's behavior:

1. Do not participate in open relationships.

2. Do not try to make your open relationship cohort jealous with someone that you know is so totally not okay for you.

3. Most single guys (particularly college age) don't just happen to be friends with pregnant girls.

4. If expectant fathers are only "friends" with their other parental half, they may or may not kiss-rape* you when they find out the baby is on its way.

5. Expectant fathers are really, really... frisky.

*please do not overanalyze the definition of "kiss-rape." I do not take rape lightly. I am merely using this as a lack-of-other-terminology-definition to describe the actions of a soon-to-be-father, who may or may not become overly amorous without permission or mutual participation upon hearing the news of his bundle of joy's imminent arrival.

Sweet Peach

It's Georgia Peach's birthday!!! Happy 23rd, darling friend! We've come a long way from fug to fabulous... woof to wonderful, haven't we (at least I have, you've always looked amazing)? Miss you and love you so much, and as always, YOU're the Mary; I'm the Rhoda.

Peanuts & Crackerjacks

On Friday night I had the distinct pleasure of watching my sweet Boyfriend be honored at his old high school's senior night baseball game. B's team during his senior year reached the state finals, which is a feat never before and never since accomplished by the school. It was so fun to sit in the stands and cheer as Boyfriend took the field with his old teammates. I never had the opportunity to watch BF play in high school or college, so being able to watch him from the stands on Friday night filled with me pride. What a fun event to be part of!

Baby Shower From H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks

Okay, so the baby shower was as horrible heartwarming as I thought it would be. I stayed an hour, and it was an hour too long. I arrived strategically late; however, I arrived just in time to sit and listen to a 30 minute description of a mother's job, which only the mothers in attendance found amusing. Then we all sat in a circle and were asked to each describe a spiritual gift passed on by our mothers that we would carry into adulthood. Now, I really do value all of the extraordinary gifts that Little has given, fostered and nurtured in me, but really, I just don't want to share all of those with people I really can't stand. Of course, though, many, many tears were being shed. I hate getting emotional around people I don't know (or know and subsequently despise). When it was my turn I said, "My mom has passed down her innate fashion sense, and I think you'd agree, judging by my dress, that it has been an extremely vital trait, and one that I'm very thankful for." I think I severely offended many of those in attendance.

After that moving experience we had a prayer circle where we were asked to all pray aloud for the health of the mother and baby. I wasn't comfortable (nor did I feel led to) praying out loud, so I skipped that activity as well. Once we took a break from those super entertaining activities I knew that may well be only chance to escape. I spoke with the mother-to-be for exactly 15 seconds. I sent her a text message later telling her how wonderful it was to see her and apologizing for my brief appearance. Her response? "That's okay. You look great." Mmmm, thanks.

Anywho, that chore is crossed off my list. I wore an adorable sundress from Harold's (RIP). Naturally, I was having too much fun at the shower to be bothered with picture taking, so below is an image of the dress I found online. The neckline is extremely flattering for those of us with linebacker shoulders, and who doesn't love a dress with pockets?

This weekend I also learned how to make ruffles... obsessed! I just need to find the proper garment to decorate. Little and I also completed two shift dresses. The results were better than expected, although shift dresses are really not flattering on ample rumps (coughPolkaDotscough). I have pictures, but I'll save those for another time. Let's just say, they don't show me at my most photogenic. I'll be trying my hand at several other patterns this week until I find the best for my shape, and then I'll share the progression with all of my cyber lovelies! Eww, does that sound really creepy? Um, probably. Note to self: never say that to anyone.

Mad Skillz

Being the whitest person I know, sometimes I like to pretend I can rap. I'm actually pretty good. Especially when I ask for money. You see, I babysit for the sweet and precious daughter of Madame P (who is the owner of this agency I call my second home). I love the entire family, and they've done so much for me; however, sometimes it can get awkward trying to separate the personal from the professional for both of us. This weekend we had a discussion about that, and it was nice to be on the same page. I babysat on Saturday night while Mr. P was out of town, and Madame P was attending a party. When she returned she confessed that she didn't have enough money to pay me, but she would bring me a check or cash on Monday. Flash forward to Wednesday... I had seen her multiple times, but no mention of the money was made. Uh oh... awkward alert. The amount in question was fairly substantial and made a significant difference in my weekly budget. Not knowing how exactly to broach the subject (and being aware that she would be gone the remainder of the week), I wrote her white girl rap poem. Keep in mind that we are an advertising agency, so I'm well aware that this would be unprofessional and inappropriate in other work settings, Potential Anonymous Caller-Outers.

A Rhyming Invoice:
Just a friendly invoice to serve as a reminder,
From your favorite babysitter (who couldn't be kinder),
I know your schedule is packed and oh so busy,
Even thinking about it makes this girl dizzy,
I understand that you'll be gone the rest of the week,
I thought I'd send a little note about the payment I seek,
So when it's convenient, just let me know,
Thanks so much! From Caroline - XO.

She responded last night that she would bring money TODAY. Cha-Ching! As the Wu-Tang Clan says, "Dolla Dolla Bill, Y'all." Hopefully she doesn't throw a pink slip in with it.