The Punchline

This morning I received a text message from my friend The Joker announcing that he's seeing someone. And, as it so happens, that someone is not me. He declares that he loves spending time with and talking to me and would love to continue doing just that, but he wanted to be honest and upfront about the situation.

So. There's that.

I'm definitely bummed, but I completely respect him for just telling me. He didn't owe me that, and he wasn't obligated to give an explanation. I applaud him for being a truly good guy. Now on to the next!

On deck? The Pilot. A sweet, handsome, Southern gentleman a couple of years older than me who went to Auburn and flies corporate jets for a living. We've done coffee and lunch and tonight is the natural next step... dinner. Cheesecake Factory. I'm pretty excited. I was also pretty excited when he asked me to fly with him on a private jet he was piloting to New York on Sunday, but alas, snow and wind made me nervous, and I declined. I felt like I'd turned down an opportunity to star in my very own Bachelor episode, so hopefully he'll bring a rose tonight to get me back in the game.

In other news, I hate roses.

And So It Goes

The next time I signed onto Match following the Kevin/Michael/Kevchael/Mikevin name debacle I had a new message from a new user named "Kal El." He'd sent me a lovely email that was, of course, signed "Kevin."

Clearly it's fate.

Rule #42 - The Name Game

After several days of exchanging Match messages, I was given a phone number. Today, I decided to text it.

Me: "Hi Kevin! It's Polka Dots from Match. Happy Friday to you!"
Response: "My name is Michael."

Well played. I see a long, happy future for me and Kev.

Rule #41

When preparing to bake cookies for your new coworkers, it is important to remember that there is quite a difference between chocolate chips and chocolate flavored chips. No matter how hard you try, mockolate and chocolate do not taste the same.

What Had Happened Was...

So this Match thing is growing on me. I'm actually really enjoying going on dates and meeting some fun people. Or, I was, until tonight.

You see, early, early on in the Match process it was suggested that I would be soul mates with a guy whose brother I "went out with" in middle school. Let me just say that that 7th grade romance was intense. In fact, upon breaking up, his brother announced that I was doomed to divorce in my adult life since I couldn't handle a real relationship, and that I convinced him to kiss dating goodbye until he got married. It was fantastic.

Anywho, fast forward to Match's suggestion. It's amazingly awkward to be matched with someone I know from real life, and when I was matched with the older brethren of my juvie-ex I just laughed. I was embarrassed because I knew he was seeing me, but I felt overall okay about it knowing that 1. he most likely didn't remember me (he's several years older) and 2. I would never see him in real life.

Well, seeing as how my life is like a poor man's Friends or other happy-go-lucky sitcom, our paths crossed. You see, this fellow (who doesn't even get a nickname right now) happens to volunteer with my church, and tonight we just so happened to be attending the same party at a mutual friend's house. CLEARLY, and I mean CLEARLY, we were both acutely aware that we knew the other one's secret. We were "Matched." So, I did what any one who is me would do in a situation that is less than pleasant: employ maximum avoidance techniques.

But as I should have predicted, these tactics were completely ignored, and he approached me directly. "Polka Dots, right? It's been like eight years! What have you been doing???" "Filling out online dating applications much like you, my friend," I nearly replied. Instead I couldn't even muster my fake, enthusiastic voice (and if I can't even pretend to be excited to be talking to you, which I am typically spectacular at doing, then you should give up) as I described the past few years. Then he went in for the kill, "Didn't you and my brother have a weird middle school thing?" "And by 'weird middle school thing,' I'm sure you mean 'wasn't my brother a psycho in middle school,' and in that case, yes," I struggled to internalize. He went on to tell me that his brother is now happily married, which just proves that he's some sort of demon prophet, and I haven't been able to hold down a relationship into matrimony, and he has.

I suddenly have this really uneasy feeling that I'm destined to either a life of loneliness, or worse, fated to become his sister-in-law.

The Cows & The Bees

The Bible describes the Promised Land as a place flowing with milk and honey. Utter decadence. But milk and honey are produced by cows and bees. Buzzing, stinging bees and stinky, patty dropping cows.

If you feel like you have arrived in the Promised Land that God has led you into, but you can't help but notice a faint odor, some stink on your shoe, or a sting on your arm, don't be discouraged. A promised land isn't a perfect land. There will still be trials and frustrations (the cows and the bees), but they serve as a reminder that even in the palm of God's will, reliance on the Father is necessary to receive the reward of milk and honey.

Remember James 1:2-5, which reminds us to, "Consider it pure joy, brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."

And when you're in the midst of a field of cow patties, which assures one false step will be a "crappy" one, be encouraged by Philippians 4:8-9, which urges, "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."

Milk and honey surely flows in the land where God leads, but don't be surprised when you have to battle a few bees and cows in the same place. When you see them, you know that the reward will follow shortly.

Suckered

I guess I just can't quit it.

I got suckered into extending my free trial of Match for another 7 days. Turns out I enjoy being winked at, so here we go again. I've been out a few times with The Joker and have really enjoyed spending time with him, so we'll see where that goes. In the meantime, these options, well, they're wide open.

Here are some thoughts I've gathered on my second first day.

1. Don't make your user name "LadiesMan173." If you're on Match, you clearly aren't.
2. Don't post a shirtless picture of yourself unless you really have something to be showing off.
3. Don't expect a response to a message that simply says, "Sup." Particularly when you don't even bother to make it into a question. "Sup" on its own is merely a verb, which makes this message an imperative sentence with an understood you for a subject, meaning you're imploring that I go "sup." My response will be to go get an apple and keep browsing.
4. Sunglasses on a guy can be very deceiving. Very. Deceiving.

What That Means

Tomorrow morning I'll get up, work out, get dressed, pack my lunch and head to my first day of work at Elevation Church. I'll officially be a producer, which means absolutely nothing to most people. And if you aren't very familiar with Elevation, 1. you should be and 2. it'll be hard to explain.

Elevation is a contemporary, multi-campus church wrapped around an audacious vision and old school message. Creativity, innovation and technology (oh, and of course, God's favor) are keys to what has propelled Elevation to see over 8,000 people in attendance in fewer than 5 years of existence. As a producer, I'll be helping to oversee the planning and execution of the worship experiences seen at each of the four campuses every week.

The job is creative and tech-y (the tech piece is admittedly not at all a strong suit of mine) and intense and time-consuming and overwhelming and exhausting and fulfilling and gratifying and thrilling and undoubtedly unlike any other role I think I will have.

I can't wait to report back on my first day. In the meantime I'll be taking my autographed Nicole Richie picture to decorate my my new desk, praying I'll have a friend to eat lunch with, and finding my favorite stall in which to bring back Bathroom Aerobics!

Excitement Abounds

Y'all, I feel like I've been waiting for two years to share this exciting news, and truthfully I kind of have been. Starting next Monday, I'll be starting my new job as a producer at Elevation Church!

I've been volunteering at Elevation for almost two years, and I've interviewed for several different positions over the course of that time. For one reason or another God closed each of those doors much to my disappointment; however, looking back, I know exactly why the timing was wrong for those opportunities. This time I am absolutely confident and thrilled knowing that it's the right time and the right fit. I'm scared and insecure, without a doubt, but I am beyond honored, humbled and utterly giddy to dive even deeper into this incredible move of God.

Hems & Hers will still be alive and active, and I can't imagine not being able to spend the past four months building it to the level it is now. It will always be a part of me, and I'll continue posting new styles on the website and Facebook page. I'm so blessed to be able to take such an active role in two of my passions. The Lord is mighty and good.

The P-Cock

This weekend I had the pleasurable experience of channeling my inner trophy wife and escorting my sweet little Sisquatch to her sorority's parents' cocktail at Chapel Hill. We had all too short of a visit together as I had to dash back to Charlotte early Saturday morning, but we were able to document the event and my natural gift of being delectable arm candy. Hems & Hers was even represented! I made a dress for Sis to wear, but the fit was off. Luckily her sweet friend snatched it right up and looked PRECIOUS (see the cutie sandwiched between us in the last picture).

The Candy Count

The title of this post would have made so much more sense if I'd posted it on Monday, right after Halloween, like I'd planned, but life got in the way (I can't wait to share more about some new directions I'm heading in!), and I'm just now getting to it.

I left you all hanging after Day 6 of The Match Project, but never fear, just because I cancelled my subscription on Day 7 doesn't mean the fun was cancelled with it. Oh no, friends, there's been more. Much more. And not just in online dating. In real life too... cuhrazy, I know.

You know after a long night of trick-or-treating you'd come home, empty your pumpkin and inventory each and every piece of sugary goodness you'd received (and try to trade the sub par pieces for something more appealing)? Let's do empty my pumpkin and see what's been dropped in over the last couple of weeks.

The Joker: I mentioned The Joker in a few of my Match Project posts. Appropriately named for his love of the funnies, he seemed to be the best prospect to come from my cyber venture. When I cancelled my subscription, I gave my real email address to my top 3 candidates, and The Joker was the top of the totem pole. We ended up trading numbers, and our ensuing banter proved that the kid could keep me laughing - my favorite part? He wasn't afraid to be sarcastic and even a little biting. We agreed to meet for lunch, and we decided upon a delicious little Thai spot in town on Monday. Now, let me say that I had basically zero expectations for the date (actually I texted Lobster on my way and told her I didn't want to go). I assumed that his humor would translate into obnoxiousness in person, and while his pictures online were cute, I knew that he'd be less attractive than the photos. Oh. My. Word. was I wrong on all counts. He was much more subdued in person, which was refreshing, and he was noticeably nervous, which was endearing. And lastly... boy was about 10 times more good looking in person than his photos. I was floored. We had a great (albeit a smidge awkward since, you know, we met online) lunch and have been texting ever since trying to plan a second outing.

The Yankee: On Saturday night, Lobster, He Lobster and I donned our best Halloween garb and traipsed Uptown to see Ke$ha play and do a little costumed partying. By the time we'd arrived, Her Royal Garbageness had fled the premises, but we weren't deterred. As you know, I loathe Halloween, so I didn't put much planning into my costume. Sparkly heels, tutu skirt, corset/slutty thing, hair in a bun = Slutty Ballerina/Fairy Princess/Sex And The City Someone? Clearly, I wasn't the only one unsure of what I was dressed as since quickly after getting a drink in hand and hugging a free space of the cramped bar I heard a voice from overhead ask, "Soooo what are you?" My answer, truthfully, "A slutty fill-in-the-blank." "You seriously don't know?" He inquired. "Well," I explained, "Halloween is just a chance for girls to get away with dressing like sluts, so I figured, why not just own that instead of trying to be clever about it?" He was clearly blown away by my sharp wit and sensible logic, and we spent the next half hour or so engaging in delightful conversation. The Yankee was noticeably cute and very, very, very tall. Originally from Long Island, he's been in the South since his college days at Elon, and he zero plans to head back to the tundra. Thumbs up. As he left he grabbed my number and promised to call me soon. I doubted it, but whatever. One Monday night my phone chimed its grating ring, an unknown number popped up on my screen. It was The Yankee! He was calling to see if I'd be interested in grabbing some drinks later in the week. He promised to have a full set of teeth and clothing without bloodstains on it (he was dressed as some character from The Hangover, but since I've never seen the movie, I had no idea). I told him that I promised to wear more clothes, but he assured me he would be fine if I chose not to. Clever. And mega points for the call versus the more convenient text. We met at a local watering hole on Thursday night and immediately fell into fun, comfortable, easy conversation. Three and a half hours later we realized we should probably call it a night. Thumbs up.

The Banana: Once The Yankee vacated our Halloween Haunt, Lobster, He Lobster and I decided to make our way around the bar a bit (actually, someone's noxious gas forced us to give up our corner). We got trapped in a traffic jam and decided that the best way to cope would be to dance. We had a fun little group jam sesh, when I looked up and saw a fellow in a legit banana costume staring me down. I don't mean just a little above average eye contact. I'm talking LASER BEAM EYES. He was clearly intent to grind against my slutty self, but thankfully I had the best body shields ever in Lobster and He Lobster, and as The Produce circled, so did they, keeping themselves between us. After making the lap a few times, The Banana changed strategies by walking away for a few minutes and returning with the hood of his costume properly in place. You know, just in case the costume adjustment would adjust my feeling on the situation. Around and around again we went like a well choreographed synchronized swimming posse. Eventually BananaMan gave up, "peeled" himself away (har har) and tried his luck with some one else whose slutty outfit wasn't quite the costume that mine was.

The Penguin: I'd made less sketchy eye contact with a neighboring penguin during the dancing-go-round with The Banana. He seemed cute enough, so I decided a dance wouldn't be terrible. He introduced himself as Chaz, and while I try to steer clear of real names on the blog, I just had to share, because there are very few names that repel me quite like Chaz. Ick. Anyway, I decided in the spirit of Halloween I would try to withhold judgement. Bad idea. Penguin Chaz was much more intoxicated than originally deemed, and he was also battling an extreme case of halitosis. I frantically searched for the best exit strategy since Lobster and He Lobster had ducked out for some air (apparently He Lobster's chicken suit was much steamier than my suit of, well, nothing). Whether he was mistakenly reading that I was interested or sensing that I was trying to duck out, The Penguin began whispering sweet nothings in my ear, which really meant slurring questionable things loudly at my face. When I told him I needed to go he begged me to let him drive me home. In the morning. He emphasized "morning" with a wink. Or a facial spasm. Hard to say. I told him I really needed to be up early for church in the morning. I clearly offended his feathered heart at the mention of church, and he brusquely urged me to have a nice life. I probably will.

The Enthusiast: When I left Match, The Enthusiast was one of the fellas I shared my contact information with. He immediately emailed me and friended me on Facebook. Not too bad, really, and we shared emails back and forth for a few days before I mistakenly shared my cellular digits. He became over eager with the texts. I mean OVER EAGER, texting several times a day regardless of whether I responded or not. I finally thought he took the hint when I hadn't heard from him in several days. On my way to meet The Yankee on Thursday my phone rang with an unknown number on the screen. Once I share with you about the madness that's been going on, you'll understand why I answered, but for now, let's just go with, I answered. "Welllll heeey there, sexy lady!" a high pitched, nasal, thick Southern accented squealed down the line. "Ummm, hello?" I replied in fright. "You don't know who this is do you??" "No." "It's your favorite guy from Match Dawt Cawm!" he enthused. Well, I knew it wasn't The Joker, so that basically left The Enthusiast. "Oh. Hi." I replied, hoping that my curt tone would keep this conversation short. It didn't. "I was just riding over to see my brother who just caught MRSA." "Ummm, your brother has MRSA?!?! That's not good!" I was genuinely concerned. Side note: I have quite the phobia of MRSA, and the paranichea currently residing on my left pinky is currently suggesting to me that I may, in fact, be infected. "No, it's not. He may not make it, but I wondered if you wanted to come over later because I may need someone to comfort me," he rattled on clearly unconcerned by his brother's precarious predicament." "Oooh, um, I can't, but thanks." "I just love a good shoulder." .......... I didn't even know what that meant. Shoulder fetish? Shoulder to cry on? A different word morphed into "shoulder" by the accent? I really don't want clarification. "Yeah, well, listen I have to go, but thanks for calling." "I know I'll be hearing from you soon, hottie." Yeah. That'll happen. I hung up and immediately saved into my phone: DO NOT ANSWER MATCH STALKER.

And that, my friends, is my current candy count.

The Journey

When I adopted Sadie everyone told me, "Shelter dogs make the best pets because they know you saved them." That doesn't make dogs from breeders or pet stores love you less, there's just a greater appreciation a dog who has been pulled from a dirty kennel or the brink of euthanization feels for its owner than a dog bred and raised in a mostly pleasant environment. Today on a drive back from Athens, Georgia, where I presented a Hems & Hers trunk show to the fine ladies of Chi O, I realized that I'm sort of like a dog from a breeder in my faith.

Now follow me on this very rough analogy. I love my Lord with every fiber of my being, in every way I know, but basically as a Christian since birth, I don't know any other way to live than with Him in my life. I don't know the desperation that some people felt before finding salvation. I don't know the aching, longing and yearning for a better home. And while those who have been in that state of despair might count me lucky, I would argue that it almost puts me at a faith disadvantage.

You see, without ever knowing what it was like to wander WITHOUT God, I tend to grow very complacent of my time spent WITH God. Like a sweet friend or family member that's just always there in the background - steady and comforting - the Almighty is a constant presence, but not necessarily always mighty in my day-to-day.

I realized as I was driving and the words of the song by my church's incredibly talented worship team's song "Give Me Faith" washed over me, that I don't get it 9 times out of 10. "Give me faith to trust what You say, that You're good and Your love is great," the song goes. Simple in words, but so powerful in meaning. This complacency that so often dominates my relationship with the Creator dulls His sheer greatness in my life more often than not. The song continues, "I need You to open my eyes and see that You're shaping my life." How cliche is it to say that you can't see the forest for the trees? I've spent so long feeling like my eyes are focused on Jesus that I completely miss everything He's doing to draw me to him and shape me for His ultimate glory.

When I get discouraged or feel like my life is adrift and in a continual state of flux, as it often is, I tend to quote Jeremiah 29:11 to myself, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you a hope and a future." It's a crazy amazing verse, but yet again, I have become so numb to the power of those words that I don't even think about them anymore. God's word is TRUE. It is ALIVE and ACTIVE. None of His promises go unfulfilled. He promises to not only give me a hope and a future but to PROSPER. For me to not react powerfully and dynamically to that assurance every time I hear it is a travesty.

"I may be weak, but Your spirit's strong in me; my flesh may fail, but my God, You never will," the lyrics of "Give Me Faith" proclaim, and no truer words have been spoken or sung. I can get caught up in berating myself for falling short of the mark in my walk with God. In criticizing myself for not "feeling" my faith enough, for being too lax or cerebral. In analyzing and searching and listening and not doing. But His power that conquered the grave is IN me.
There's no room for stagnation and self-doubt when there's that kind of might waiting to be unleashed in me.

So back to the dog analogy. I may never feel that same urgency that the "rescued pet" feels, but that doesn't mean that the Lord hasn't rescued me also. That doesn't mean I don't strive with the same intensity to obey and serve my God, Protector and Provider, and as my path is murkier than ever, I can promise you, that I will cling to Him with all the ferocity of a creature that is lost without its Master. I'm just glad I know who's guiding me.

The Match Project Day 4-6

I didn't actually intend to lump day 4, 5 and 6 into one post, but I got lazy over the weekend because Sweet Sis was home for Fall Break and it happened. Actually, it's probably not too bad, because these three days can be summed up in three words... sketchy, shady and sleazy. I'm not even going to break the days into stats and observations because it's just not worth it. Here's the lowdown.

Just for you fine folks I spent part of Thursday night on the chat feature of Match. One onomatopoeia for that experience: Ew. I received IMs from six different winners. Two of the six were fine. I guess. The other four gave me the heebiejeebies. One was 46, retired, independently wealthy and looking for a little friend to shower with gifts. One was 27 but asked instantly for my number. One was 31 and felt very, very alone in his life and needed someone to hold on to. The fourth was 26 and had a child molester mustache.

After about an hour I decided that it was beyond time to disable that feature, but much to my surprise no less than half an hour after shutting it down, I received Facebook friend requests from two of less fortunate chatters. Ordinarily not a huge issue, but I didn't give away ANY personal information to these creeps... not my first name, not my last name, nothing. Depsite ignoring the requests I've received various and sundry messages from them. Hey, guess what? I think I know why you're single and lonely. And secondly, I mean, I know I'm pretty great, but I'm not THAT awesome, so clearly, clearly, clearly you're just THAT desperate.

But these last few days haven't been all bad. In fact, tomorrow's post will fill you in on some closing thoughts from this whole experience and maybe some details about an upcoming date or two??

The Match Project Day 3

Stats:
- My profile has been viewed 181 times.
- I've been winked at 42 times.
- I've received 23 emails.

Observations:
- The male attention that comes along with online dating isn't as enjoyable as I thought it might. It sort of makes me feel skeazy. Mostly because it's from skeazeballs.
- People with names like "shank_a_potamus" will never find a life partner. Not a human one anyway.
- "shank_a_potamus" likes to look at my profile.
- Most of the profiles of my female competition are very suggestive.
- Mine is not.
- I am instantly unattracted to with men that have children and are on Match.
- I'm even less attracted to the guys that say, "I have kids, but don't worry, they only live with me some of the time." Everybody loves a good part time dad.

I got asked to go on my first actual Match date yesterday. I'm sort of on the fence about going. On one hand we have a couple of mutual friends - namely, God and Jesus - on the other, I feel weird about truly meeting someone face to face. Lots of opportunity for extreme awkwardness. Maybe I'll send my sister instead and have her pretend to be me.

The chap in questions seems really normal, nice and down to earth, but he's on Match, so he clearly can't get dates in real life. Granted, I am too, but since I'm not paying for the service I don't think I really count. Eh. We'll call it a wash. I guess I'll go. It is all about journalistic integrity after all.

I've been messaging fairly regularly with the Limp Biscuit joker. I have to hand it to him, he's pretty clever. The kid loves himself a joke, but a fair number of them are pretty funny. And even more impressive, he has an insane knowledge of late '90s boy bands. I'm not just talking *NSYNC and BSB, he's pulled out 98 Degrees, Five, and West Life. He has also seen and appreciates the cinematic genius that is Mars Attacks.

I got an IM last night from a guy asking if I had more pictures I could send him. I'm pretty sure it was Kip from Napoleon Dynamite. Maybe he thought I was LaFawnduh 'cause, you know, I have "sandy blonde hair, pretty nice face, but" he's probably "just T.O.ed because I haven't sent him a full body shot yet."

Also, after trading a few messages with the guy I went to high school with, I finally said, "I think we actually might know each other. Did you go to our Our High School?" I haven't heard back. Clearly that was not a good move. The collision of cyber life and real life is rarely a smooth thing. Just ask Tiger Woods.

The Match Project Day 2

Stats:
- My profile has been viewed 122 times
- I've been "winked" at 34 times
- I've received 17 emails

Observations:
- There are very many unfortunate looking people occupying the online dating space.
- I've become very self conscious that browsers think I'm more attractive than most people online.
- I've become very paranoid that I need to show that I'm not a boring loser.
- I actually am kind of boring.
- I'm terrible at writing an appealing online dating bio.
- I don't necessarily feel all that bad about that.
- I feel really bad when I don't respond to someone's "winks" or "emails."
- I'm learning that ignoring them is crucial to not being inundated by creepy messages.

Day 2 has been interesting in this Match Project. Most of the messages I've gotten have been really lame. Such as, "Your face is pretty." Duh. "I'm from Charlotte too." Yeah, I see that on your profile, but thanks for letting me know. "I'm single." I would hope so.

The fact that I'm fairly normal and don't have any obvious facial deformities seems to be a plus in terms of cyber popularity. I've been asked four times if I like playing video games. I have to dance lightly around this subject. Sure, I enjoy video games (Wii and original Nintendo), but I know that answering yes will open myself up to a whole world of Halo and Dungeons & Dragons that I'd much rather avoid.

I have gotten two fairly quality correspondences going. One with the guy I went to high school with that doesn't seem to remember me. I have since decided that that's a good thing. I went and looked at some pictures of myself from high school, and I have upgraded greatly. I haven't told him that we know each other yet. I feel like that's some sort of set up for a generic rom-com. I hope so. Everyone loves a good romantic comedy plot twist.

The second legit-ish message went something like this:

"What do you call a gingerbread man with one leg?
Limp biscuit."

If he were less attractive it would probably hit the trash, but I'm pretty shallow, so I'll appreciate the humor attempt. And it is kind of funny. Not "LOL" funny, but crack a smile funny. His profile says that the last book he read was a joke book. I guess he's just proving that? If he's a joke cracker in real life, that will get old reallllly fast.

There's been no reappearance from my friend with the equestrian fetish, so things are looking up.

The Match Project Day 1

The Match Project is an experiment in which I will spend seven days trying out Match.com. My goal is to be as realistic and candid in my efforts as possible, and I'll document the journey here. This should be a good time. The reasons for embarking on this venture are severalfold:

1. This is the first time I've been single in quite a while, and although I'm not looking for a relationship, one can never argue with a free dinner or drinks every so often.
2. It's free, and I'm out of blog ideas, and this should be more entertaining than random factoids about myself or long monologues about the difficulties that accompany launching a business.
3. I work from my house now, so the chances that some perfect soulmate will come knocking on my door is just not reasonable. The only people who knock on my door are the UPS man and the exterminator, and neither packages nor roach killing is an aphrodisiac. Actually, given the problem I've had with roaches lately, that's more and more attractive.
4. Documenting each day will remind me to cancel my subscription on day 7, so my card won't be charged for a month's fee.

Last night whilst perusing my typical regimen of online sites I was distracted by a blinking banner ad for Match.com. I wasn't even tempted by eHarmony, because, well, it's called eHarmony. Several people have suggested that I give the realm of online dating a whirl (most recently the lovely Lobster). I shrugged it off as being for people who can't survive in a world beyond their computer screen who post fake pictures of themselves, but alas, I was taken in during a moment of boredom and weakness and inspired to just give it a go. If nothing else than to prove my point that it doesn't work.

I create a user name for myself (like naming my blog, this process was much more anxiety ridden than need be. I wanted to be clever without revealing my real name or being gross or cheesy like xxcutiepiesnugglekissesxx or something of the sort). I settle on SadieMay3rd (I would have preferred simply SadieMay, but apparently that was taken, so SadieMay3rd in honor of my sweet pup, Sadie May Jr. the 3rd, it is). I'm prompted to fill out a profile, so I can be accurately matched with Charlotte singles. I resist the urge to shut the computer down and go to sleep and instead press onward.

I also resist the urge to say that I'm looking for heavyset, overweight and obese males, therefore pegging myself a chubby chaser. I want to be accurate, so I force myself to answer the questions as seriously as possible. I complete the profile and am immediately matched with candidates I may be compatible with. I'm truly intrigued to see who (or what) I might fit with, so I start scrolling the list. It's ranked by percentile of compatibility, and I once again almost shut my computer off when I see that ranked at 99% compatibility with me is a true douchelord I went to high school with. Ummm, no. If that's who I'm being matched with, forget it. Before starting this I was dubious at best but now all of this site's credibility is out the window.

Still, I press on, send out some obligatory "winks" (similar to Facebook pokes) and call it a night.

When I woke up this morning I had several alerts from the Matchmakers themselves letting me know that over the course of my sleeping hours I had received 4 winks and 3 messages. I scroll through the emails and am pleasantly surprised to see one from a rather attractive guy who seems normal enough. Upon further observance, though, I realize I know this guy. We also went to high school together, and I was pretty close with his sister. Wanting full confirmation I Facebook who I think it is, and not only are we Facebook friends, but both of his profile pictures are the same. I respond to his message without letting him know that I know who he is. I don't know if it's a good or bad thing that he doesn't seem to recognize me.

I was just starting to feel a little optimistic about this whole ordeal when I received the following IM from LowCountryBoy: "Hey there, do you like rodeos, cowboy boots, horses, horses races, Wrangler jeans? Do you have cowboy boots?" Oh, Lord, I am in for a long seven days.

Furry Friday

One of my favorite things about working from home is getting to take cuddle breaks with this fluffy cutie.

Trivia Thursday

- I hate Jimmy Buffett.

- I'm not all that fond of The Beatles either.

- I much prefer doing my own nails to having them done in a salon.

- I have a secret crush on Steve Levy from SportsCenter.

- I had a terrible speech impediment as a child, and it still rears its head regularly.

- I have a "thing" for watches.

- I have no ideas for a real blog post.

Tuesday Tidbits

- I cannot watch TV if the volume level is not on an even number or multiple of 5. 7, 13, 17, etc, are all no-can-dos. My dad thinks it's hilarious to up the volume to 23 and see if I notice that it's such an unfortunate prime number. I always do.

- I felt like the whitest white girl in the world when I drove to the grocery store tonight listening to Taylor Swift and left with a trashy magazine, frozen yogurt and a Diet Dr. Pepper.

- I followed that up by roasting Brussels sprouts for a midnight snack. They were divinely delicious.

But What I Really Want To Do Is...

I had the pleasure of dining at Firehouse Subs this week with my sweet friend (and new mom!) J. J and I are former co-workers, and she introduced me to the steamy, melty goodness that is Firehouse, so it was only fitting that we meet there for a life catch up and some girl time that including her precious baby girl.

She asked me lots of questions about my ongoing business venture, and I explained to her that the biggest challenge of operating Hems & Hers (aside from, you know, making money) is describing it to other people. When I run into acquaintances or old family friends while I'm out and about running errands or when they come into the stationery store where I work, I see the question in their eyes, "Soooo, this is what you do now?"

It took me until recently to not act either (A) defensively or (B) apologetically to the inquiry. Instead of "Yeah, I do. Wanna make somethin' of it?" or some mumbled response, I had to learn to start explaining that while I had the incredible opportunity of working at a great local ad agency for two and a half years, I was able to springboard off what I learned there and launch my own company - a clothing line, no less! And God really provided for me by allowing me to work part time at the shop to keep some steady income and save my sanity from spending toooo much time alone in my house.

Regardless, though, as I explained to J, I still trip up on the "my clothing line" part. You see, I don't view myself as a fashion designer, and even if I did, I would feel very much like I was saying the equivalent of "but I'm going to be an actress!" or, "I'm just here until Maxim decides to run the shots I sent them!" or, "You should hear me sing. American Idol, here I come!" or, "I'm playing at some golf courses when I'm not here. The LPGA is beating down my door." Not that the world of fashion or apparel is an uttainable dream by any means, and neither are those others, but I struggle with the notion that I won't be taken seriously with such a whimsical vision. In any event I'm getting used to it and feeling better day by day, but in the meantime I'll keep my aspirations for that Oscar under wraps.

Happy weekend!

We'll Solve Any Crime By Dinner Time!

It's no secret. I love Mary Kate & Ashley (no, they are not "The Olsen Twins" any longer). From their time on Full House to their detective series to their short lived TV returns (Two of a Kind and So Little Time) to their on-location films. Heck, even their feature films It Takes Two and New York Minute. Below, my top five MK&A productions...

5. Holiday in the Sun. I've been dying to go to the Atlantis resort since this movie came out. I also love knowing this was one of Megan Fox's first roles, and that I was semi-in love with Austin Nichols before he was famous.
4. Getting There. Mary Kate and Ashley's last straight-to-video film. Sweet sixteen + Winter Olympics + new car = amazing hijinks ensue. It is so unbelievably terrible, it's good. Magical.3. The Challenge. The oft-forgotten Olsen release based loosely on the Survivor series, this was the twins take on reality television in film form. To die for.2. Double, Double, Toil and Trouble. This 1992 classic is a scary departure for my sweet MK&A, and it made me obsessed with moonstones for a good seven years. Heck, I still am.
1. Winning London. I think I've watched this movie no fewer than 47 times. I have the entire film memorized, and I will always have a crush on Jesse Spencer thanks to his role in this movie. "Just don't jimmy riddleoo in the back of me jamjah!"

Three Hundred Sixty Five

On October 1, 2009, the world lost a great man. Papa passed away, and so began an extraordinarily life-altering 52 weeks.

In 1 short year, 365 days, things took a turn for a place I never dreamed. It went a little something like this...

Papa dies
End a three and a half year relationship with B
Meet T
Fall head over heels and enter a relationship quickly
Become more strongly committed to my church than ever before
Expand Hems & Hers to include inventory, not just custom orders
Bid a bittersweet adieu to a best friend following her dream in the big city
Aunt Adrienne passes away following a battle with lung cancer and unsuccessful double lung transplant
I begin seriously entertaining the thought of leaving my ad agency
Interview for various positions
Visit Papaw for the last time
Fall more deeply in love with Hems & Hers
Papaw passes away following a grueling war with melanoma
Grow closer and closer with my family
Decide to take a leap of faith and employ myself
Give my two-weeks notice
Lose Mimi
Spend an incredible few days in Louisiana saying goodbye to an incredible woman
Walk out the doors of the agency for the last time
See Hems & Hers hit boutique racks across the Southeast
Feel more fear and trepidation than I knew was possible
Let go of my relationship with T (previously, the Beau) indefinitely as I tread cautiously, yet confidently in a direction of faith, humility and blessing

If 365 days can have this sort of impact - from goodbyes to hellos and everything in between - there's no telling what the next batch holds.

Fun Fact Friday

I actually have several post ideas today. That's a new one! Looks like I'll be scheduling some for next week (woot!), but in the meantime, here are a few snippets that have passed through my noggin this week that I couldn't shape an entire post around but needed to have a little moment.

- Whenever I tell people I took archery class in college they laugh at me or don't believe me. Here's the deal: I LOVED archery. I couldn't wait until I could fit into my schedule. I had dreams of being a bowmaster. Unfortunately archery didn't love me back. I was in the remedial bow & arrows group along with the kid who thought Star Wars was real (I swear he'll name his first son - you know, if he makes it that far along in the relationship process - C3PO) and the girl who had never met physical activity and therefore possessed not a single ounce of upper body strength. Regardless, I still long to be a bow hunter when I grow up.

- While The Mummy made me squirm out of my seat and spend an hour and a half in a movie theatre restroom hiding out, I believe that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is one of the most horrifying movies of all time. Ironically, I've watched it several times, and I enjoy the other Indiana Jones movies (clearly I'm not referring to the more current versions, because... come on), but I spent years having nightmares about organs being ripped out of my body as I became a burnt sacrifice... you know... pleasant. I mistakenly caught a snippet of it this week thinking I was watching the Last Crusade. I wasn't. Cue recurring nightmares.

- I played the keyboard in my middle school band. Yeah, I was that cool. I'm not exactly musically (or rhythmically... and as a point of interest, rhythmically is a very difficult word to spell) inclined, but a small sampling of piano lessons made me musically literate. I loved our band teacher, and he took pity on me and made me the band's keyboard player. Basically I just played the same whole note over and over for each and every song. I was a beast. And now I know you're ridiculously jealous.

Happy weekend!

Back to Good

What a weekend I enjoyed! My sweet, wonderful friend Y'all & Yanks returned home to the South for an all-too-quick, but ultra-fabulous weekend. Spending time with her is so refreshing, rejuvenating and just... good.

The festivities began Friday night when I swooped over to the airport to find the ultra-stylish jet setter waiting on her car service (ahem... me). We dashed back to my house to drop her bags and hopped on over to Bricktops for some Prickly Pear Martinis, fresh guacamole and a shared order of fish tacos. Despite the fact that we chat almost constantly throughout the week, there was so much to fill each other in about. From her Manhattan life to my Charlotte schedule, we got a lot of words in over a yummy meal. A trip to Yoforia (hello, pineapple + taro frozen yogurt topped with chocolate chips and strawberries!) finished the meal with a sweet ending, and the double batch of cookies we baked when we got home was the perfect chaser.

Saturday morning dawned bright and warm and was the perfect chance for us to catch up with another former coworker and friend over steamed bagel sandwiches at Owen's. Mmmm. This was one of my favorite lunch spots when I was at the agency, and I've been missing its steamy deliciousness. Following the brunch it was time to hit some shops around town. Now, Queen City shopping, while great, doesn't compare to New York, but Y'all & Yanks was able to find some Southern treats, and I had the opportunity to show off some Hems & Hers creations on the racks of Buckett's.

We headed over to Little and Daddy's for an M&M buffet (Daddy is the ultimate mixologist of M&M types... plain, peanut, peanut butter and pretzel) while we watched the Tennessee-Florida battle. Y'all & Yanks was such a trooper to let me watch and humor my sports geek side. The day finished on the perfect girly note, though, as we met two great girlfriends for drinks and tapas at Soul Gastro Lounge. We had so much fun catching up on our lives, families, interests, favorite infomercials and the uber-icky Diva Cup (more to come on that in a future post).

Thankfully, the Supermodel's (yes, pre-getting her own blog, Y'all & Yanks was known around here as the Supermodel) flight didn't depart until late Sunday, so we got in another full day including an emotional, encouraging, challenging and uplifting worship experience at Elevation, lunch at Zaxby's and a spin around Concord Mills.

Parting is indeed such sweet sorrow, and my heart is definitely sadder without the Supermodel here. However, it is so much fuller from the time we spent together this weekend. Nothing beats time with a best friend, and Y'all & Yanks never fails to deliver. Love you, sweet friend.

12 Days

I can't believe it's been almost two weeks since I popped in to update about life. Even with a 12 day delay, though, I still don't have much that's interesting to the reading public on which to update. Life has been a blur of fabric, sewing needles, iron burns, DVR, stationery, email outreach and boutique orders.

Little, The Intern and I are hitting the road this week for our first Hems & Hers collegiate trunk show. We couldn't be more excited! We'll be in Columbia visiting the Tri Delts at USC, and we've been hustling and bustling creating garnet and black frocks, skirts and tunics as well as other fun pieces of inventory AND filling orders for THREE boutiques all due by mid-October. PHEW! God certainly is blessing this business venture, and I'm just hanging on enjoying the ride.

I've been squeezing in time at the Y anytime I can between my part time job at the stationery shop and appointments with my beloved Bernina machine. I've taken to working out beside an elderly woman whose workout ensemble of choice is a one piece bathing suit and jeans. I giggle everytime I watch her trucking it on the treadmill or bike in her sweat-ready outfit. Maybe we should start some Hems & Hers athletic wear. I'd gift it to her, because it's just so ridiculous.

In other random news, in the wee hours of the morning this morning while preparing to retire to bed I watched a baby cockroach scurry across my bedroom floor. While I am none too paranoid about bugs or insects, I cannot deal with roaches. Disgrossting. Quickly trying to determine the best weapon I could yield to exterminate this little monster (and not in the fond Lady Gaga-sense of little monsters), I considered dropping my scale on top of its body, but felt like that would make me too Kathy Bates a la Misery (truly one of the most disturbing movies of all time, closely followed by The Mummy), and swiftly rescinded. When in doubt, a shoe is always efficient and delivers a quite satisfying crunch.

This week will be a whirlwind one, so I'm prepping my lungs to be able to catch my breath when I can, but I am immensely looking forward to Friday evening because my beloved and amazingly-sorely missed Y'all & Yanks is flying down from the metropolis of Manhattan to spend the weekend with me. I can't adequately express how excited I am to see her and catch up on life, girl talk and the like. I love this lady so very much, and I can't wait for the fun in store!

My goal this week is to squeeze in some time to update Polka Dots & Protein Bars a few more times and chat about my feelings about the new Tennessee Vols head coach Derek Dooley (love) as well as my favorite parts of college football season (everything) and various and sundry other topics I formulate while pleating, hemming, tailoring and stitching.

Dearly Beloved

If you've been reading my blog for a little while you'll know that the past 11 months have been extremely difficult for our family. I have lost three grandparents and an aunt, but this weekend was a fitting family celebration of a marriage in Dallas, TX. We've seen this side of the family for three of the four funerals we've attended, so we were all itching to let loose and just have some carefree fun. And that we did. I think all of us would say it was one of the best weekends we've had in a long time, and I'm still trying to re-hydrate from the 10 gallons of sweat I lost on the dance floor. One words sums it all up... amazing. I am so grateful and blessed to have the family I have.

And Some More

While I work on a post about my amazingly wonderful weekend, check out the Hems & Herswinners! lookbook

Lookie, Lookie

I posted some shots from last week's Hems & Hers' look book shoot on the H&H blog. Check 'em out!

Je Suis La Jeune Fille!

Growing up I guess I watched a lot of TV. Or I have an incredible memory. Or both. Either way, I saw the wondrous commercial for Muzzy multiple times a day and always secretly hoped our household would be blessed with a set of Muzzy learning sets. I even took French all through school, and I think the young girl from the Muzzy commercial influenced that decision pretty mightily. While Y'all & Yanks was once again discussing the finer points of being multi-lingual and needing to find a copy of Rosetta Stone tonight, I proffered Muzzy to her yet again. Several months ago I had a similar Muzzy flashback and found the old commercial on YouTube. I immediately sent the video to my brother, who, liked me, remembered each and every word. If the commercial verbiage can stay with me for almost 20 years, I can't even imagine the brilliance that the full course could provide. Please tell me that I'm not the only one who was obsessed with this linguistic cartoon commercial. Anyone? Anyone?

So I guess I was under the impression that once I started working for myself that life would slow down, and that I'd have more time to relax, breathe, blog... you know, the basics. Oh how wrong I was. Life, as it is wont to do, has continued to accelerate 1200 mph, and while I am truly and sincerely LOVING every second of it, my head is spinning.

I started some part-time work last week at a local stationery and gift store because I really felt the need to continue some sort of regular income. God really blessed me by opening the door, and I'm loving it so far. When I'm not at the shop I'm busy, busy, busy working with Little to keep Hems & Hers growing, and growing it has. We just had an order placed yesterday by our third boutique (this one in Chapel Hill... more on the Hems & Hers blog later this week), and we couldn't be more humbled by the feedback... and thrilled!

Over the weekend we took some time out and went to Knoxville for a family reunion... our first time back since Papaw's funeral in April. After the reunion on Saturday we headed up to his farm and started going through some of his things to decide what we wanted to remember him by. I can't explain how emotional I was to be there. I hadn't been to his house since Sis and the Beau and I visited him for the last time in March... just a few weeks before he died. Being there again, but knowing he wasn't there, and going through all the things that made him so Papaw was just overwhelming, and the grief felt brand new. After shedding my tears, I was so grateful for the opportunity to choose some things I wanted to keep of his including some amazing hats (seriously... his collection was unreal) and cowboy boots (he was a true equestrian). He wasn't a big man, and the boots fit me perfectly. I will be so proud wearing them this fall.

As soon as we got back it was back to the grind, shooting a look book for Hems & Hers on Monday. I cannot wait to share some pictures from the shoot. My sweet friend Swankypeach did so much to pull it together. I am continually blessed by the people God puts in my life!

Yesterday I bid a sorrowful adieu to Sisterectomy who moved back to Chapel Hill for her junior year. I adored every second of the time we spent together this summer (and what a conglomeration of seconds they were), and I will be missing her terribly while she's on campus being a professional Tar Hole.

Polka Dots & Protein Bars has been a lonely space over the last few weeks, but I have a list of fun incidents to share over the coming days... that is, unless this little life whirlwind scoops me right back up. I am such a happy and fulfilled girl right now!

Introducing

The Beau!
I've been keeping too many details secret about the fella that's been making this girl grin for the past few months, so without further ado, meet my beaufriend!

Hometown: Kannapolis, NC
Age: Younger than me (Gasp! I'm a cougar!)
Pets: Boxer-ish mix pup named Layla Lou!
Met Each Other: At Elevation Church (we are both production volunteers) last fall
Food He's Trying Really Hard to Tolerate For Me: Sushi
Food He'd Rather Be Eating: Anything else... especially Zaxby's chicken fingers
Best Features: His baby blues, his specs, and his smile!
Favorite Movie: The Emperor's New Groove (am I kidding? Or not?), 300, The Blind Side, other masculine action flicks and more...
Occupation: Loan whiz at one of the largest financial institutions and my personal patron saint of patience
Hobbies: Church, puppy training, working out, cooking, vodka tonic and margarita mixing, music, losing to me in Wii bowling, doing amazingly thoughtful things for yours truly
Pretends to Enjoy: Say Yes to the Dress, The September Issue, Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars, Project Runway, Celebrity Gossip
Would Say I'm: Not high maintenance, stubborn, or overly independent
Would Really Mean: The exact opposite of all of those things
Always: Goes out of his way to encourage me and let me know how special I am to him.

Dear Beau of Mine,
You are wonderful.
XO

I've Got Street Savoir Faire

On our weekly trip to Zaxby's tonight, the beau and I ended up deep in conversation about Disney movies or cats and dogs or, well, something. I can't really remember how it happened, but we stumbled upon a forgotten favorite Disney number featuring a kitten and a street-wise dog. We both thought that it was scene from The Aristocats, but when we YouTubed it, we came up with nada. After some further Googling of all Disney movies ever made, we had an "Aha" moment when our eyes lit upon the rather obscure "Oliver & Company." A quick YouTube search, and voila! Our ears and eyes feasted on this ditty, and as such, I needed to share with all of you. I now have a happy heart.

Furry Friday

Happy weekend, lovelies! Sadie has her toys and is ready for some car rides and play time. Hope y'all are too!

Music To My Ears

Admittedly I'm not generally on the cutting edge of the music industry, but over the last few weeks I've forced myself to turn off the television and enjoy some ear candy as my beloved Bernina hums merrily along in harmony. A few of my favorites lately?

1. Paper Tongues - The beau and I had the pleasure of hearing this group from Charlotte open for Switchfoot in December. They totally blew us away then, and I'm thrilled they're blowing up the national music scene of late. "Soul" is without a doubt my favorite track, and it ends up on repeat often.
2. Amy Grant - A perennial favorite, "Baby, Baby," "Gallileo," "Ask Me," and the newer "Better Than A Hallelujah" are always a treat. I used to fantasize that Amy Grant would come adopt me (don't worry, Little and Daddy, I'd still be yours too). It hasn't happened yet, but I'm sure it will soon.
3. Elevation Worship - My wonderful church released their newest single on iTunes this week. I've been rocking to "Kingdom Come," on Saturday nights and Sundays, but I'm thrilled I can listen to it and lift my hands (not while the sewing machine is running, of course!) during the week as well.
4. Pastor Steven Furtick Podcasts - I've attended Elevation for about a year and a half, but as such, I missed many a powerful sermon during the early days of the church's existence. Thanks to podcasts on iTunes, I'm slowing working my way through old sermons, and the messages are dynamic, powerful and enriching as ever.
5. Muse - Kate Hudson's romantic choices are right on, and Muse and I are having a moment right now. Not just for invigorating workouts, Muse has powered me through several of The Hundred Dresses lately.
6. The Jai Ho - Bolly. Wood. That's all.
7. Rascal Flatts - I love Rascal Flatts and always will. It doesn't matter how many times I've heard their tracks. They make me happy.
8. MIKA - If you don't know MIKA, then you haven't lived yet. Lobster and I have shared many a car dance party to the tunes of "Lollipop," "Love Today," and "Big Girl, You Are Beautiful." Sis and I have continued the tradition including "We Are Golden" into our set. If I'm ever feeling down or blue, MIKA cheers me instantly. No joke. Try it yourself, and then try to tell me I'm wrong.
9. Hanson - "Mmbop." Nuff said.
10. Hellogoodbye - Although I (embarrassingly) found out about Hellogoodbye thanks to an unfortunate Real World marathon viewing a few years ago, they top my playlist regularly. "Touch Down, Turn Around," is hard to listen to without shakin' at least a little bit.

So what are you listening to right now?

The Hundred Dresses

When I was younger, I loved the book The Hundred Dresses. While not a feel good story by any means, I was transfixed by the story. Well, in recent months, my life has turned into a new version of The Hundred Dresses. In early spring I was contacted by a sweet blog reader who had followed the progression of Hems & Hers and had the utmost faith in our abilities. She inquired whether I would be interested in creating approximately 100 dresses for her sorority to wear during one round of their fall rush. Ecstatic and foolishly unintimidated by such an enormous task, Little and I leapt at the opportunity to create such a huge order.

This order, more than almost anything else, acted as an incredible catalyst propelling me toward pursuing Hems & Hers full time and believing in it as more than a hobby. The Hundred Dress (as we've taken to referring to them as) are due Friday, and it's hard to believe that the journey we've been on with them is almost over. We've experienced several hiccups along the way that have spurred refinement in our business operations, and the girls' patience of has been wonderfully appreciated as we feel our way through a monumental orientation to this new world and uncharted territory.

We had the pleasure of seeing several of the girls in their dresses Sunday afternoon, and I have no doubt that the girls will be the prettiest on campus come September. I won't post pictures until the chapter does, but trust me when I tell you, that the lovely ladies look, well, just lovely.

About A Blog

Here's the thing about blogs: They aren't your own. They aren't private, and they aren't anonymous despite attempts to keep them as both. They may feel like a safe place to share thoughts, but ultimately there are ramifications for every word written on these digital pages. More people are reading your thoughts than you know, and that shouldn't be taken lightly. Ever.

Last night I posted a True Story Tuesday that was unfair to post. Hurt feelings and severed relationships are never, ever worth a laugh or entertainment. Even when the intent of a blurb, factual or not, isn't mean, hurtful or malicious, that doesn't mean that everyone who comes across this corner of the interwebs is aware of that, or that they interpret it in the same way it's intended.

I will have to live with the fact that my post not only hurt others but painted a skewed representation of me that I can't change. To some readers, I appeared vicious, hateful and un-Christlike, and I hate that. As a reminder to myself and all of you who operate blogs, you do not type in a vacuum, and once feelings are hurt because of a public forum like a blog, they can't be un-hurt. And for that, I am extremely sorry.

A Quickie

If you're not following my wonderful stylish and fabulous friend at Y'all & Yanks, then you're just crazy. Her adventures as a newbie in the city are sweet, poignant, funny and fashionable... just like the lady herself. Now, go on. Get over there!

Twenty Four Candles

I turned 24 on Saturday and spent the weekend celebrating! On Friday night the beau and I headed over to Little and Daddy's where we had a birthday cookout with Sis and some friends, present fest, homemade ice cream courtesy of the beau, and a rousing death match of Spoons.

Saturday morning was spent teaching some Vietnamese refugees to sew - a post of its own, and a truly amazing experience. The first of many with these incredible women, to be sure. The rest of the day was a surprise... the beau had planned the afternoon and evening to make me feel loved and special, and he made sure to include my favorite activities. First? A trip to Laser Quest, where I dominated him in several rounds of laser tag (have we discussed my obsession with laser tag? It's intense), a post-match meal at Zaxby's (my fave) where we split the aptly titled Birthday Cake Milkshake, which was a party on my tongue, and then we got fancified and capped the night with the Lobster and He-Lobster at one of our favorite hangouts, Thomas Street Tavern. Today while Little and I plugged away at the epic 100 Dresses (also a post of its own) for Hems & Hers, the beau took my car and washed, waxed and detailed it. Those who know me in real life will know that my poor CRV hasn't been touched with a nary a sud or splash of water, much less a vacuum cleaner in years, so that was such a treat. Without further ado, a few snapshots of the weekend. I'm so excited about my 24th year... I have no doubt that it will be unforgettable and amazing.