I am now friends with my entire preschool/kindergarten carpool, thanks to Facebook. We're talking 1980. And we all still remember entirely too much about each other. Time for a reunion. Your mini-van/Wagoneer or mine?
Actually, NOT dressing slutty this year - do that enough on a regular basis. But yes please, sugar high. Candy at 8am at work? Sounds like a good start to the day. And it's just going to get worse. By Monday morning I might need an emergency dental appointment. But totally worth it.
Also looking forward to counting how many Snookies and Situations I run into tomorrow night. Plus Antoine Dodson (the "hide yo' kids" guy). As a kid, I never dressed as the "it" thing. I remember in third grade, the cool girl in school was Boy George. And I was in a biker gang along with the rest of my family. Yep.
Then in high school, we were only allowed to dress up senior year. And did I look cute and sassy? No sir. (Of course, it was all girls, so who really cared anyway) Went with an all green unitard and flippers...Kermit the Frog. Flippers are ridiculously hard to walk in, btw. We even cut a ping pong ball in half and sewed it to a green knit cap for the eyes. Good times.
Chapel Hill really did Halloween right. Franklin Street was totally blocked off and it was just sheer mayhem. But senior year I had to work (Chili's. Nice.) and remember getting pulled over for speeding on the way home. Dressed in a ballerina costume. I knew the cop thought I had been drinking and was PRAYING I wouldn't have to get out and walk the line in my tutu. Luckily he saw my Chili's apron on the front seat and was apparently a fan of the Awesome Blossom because he let me go. Phew.
Viva Halloween 2010. One of these years I'll get too old for this shiz, but this year isn't it. :)
Just realized that I have gaping holes in BOTH sleeves of the sweater-dress I am wearing. Which I am ALSO wearing to a happy hour immediately after work. Nice. No wonder this bad boy was on sale. Argh.
Don't get me wrong - Teen Mom is entertaining as hell. (And also slightly depressing - hel-lo, Amber and Gary)
But the latest version of 16 and Pregnant? Sheesh. The girl from Mansfield who races cars, owns goats, and plans on living in a barn with her new hubby? Nice. Really making Texas look good, sweetie. And why is she getting the IUD after the baby was born? Shouldn't this have been a discussion a year ago?
After having so much fun getting fake hair and false eyelashes at the wedding in Iowa, I decided to try my luck on my own. Bought the fake hairpiece and lashes and went to town. But had to pull over. Couldn't master either one. Shouldn't come as a big surprise, considering I don't know how to use a curling iron either. (Or really a regular iron, for that matter)
For being such a girly-girl, I sure am dude-like when it comes to beauty and hair products. Although I do love me some glitter eyeshadow. So maybe I'm more like a tranny.
I heard "that's my name, don't wear it out!" on the radio this morning and almost had to pull over I was giggling so hard. What does that even MEAN. Similarly...
"Face!" was a retort I remember from like 3rd grade. And of course "Doy," which I am still trying to bring back (with very little success, I might add). And the ever-annoying "I know you are but what am I?" (Thanks, PeeWee, for really bringing this one to the forefront.)
Drawing a blank but I'm sure there are many, many more...
So I knew they were remaking Footloose. (Why god why) But for some reason I thought that meant they would be placing it in a modern-day setting - like a Footloose for today's generation. But judging by the photo above, it looks like they are LITERALLY remaking Footloose. (Again, why god why) This could be super-lame. And if they're going to be so literal, they better include my two favorite lines:
"My daddy HATES me wearing these boots!" and "You ever get busted for boppin'?"
Might have to pop that bad boy in over the weekend. In all its VHS glory.
I first went in to renew my driver's license on July 7. Still haven't received it. I've been back a record three times to get new temporary ones, but this act is getting old. I almost HOPE I get pulled over. Maybe if the cops get involved something would get done? (Like me going to jail. Haha.)
Back to the Future is celebrating it's 25th anniversary? Great Scott! (heh.)
Still love that movie to this day, although parts II and III totally sucked. Long live Marty McFly. My favorite part is still when she keeps calling him Calvin Klein, because "that's what it says on your underwear." Classic.
Why won't the matchmaker leave me alone? Got another "potential match" email last night. I am kind of enjoying being on dating hiatus, but I also know beggars can't be choosers. Still, not super psyched to go out with this guy. I guess I'll wait and see how I feel before accepting or rejecting the proposed date. It's just drinks, after all. Then again, ugh.
Also debating going to a Speed Dating event with some friends. If nothing else, think of the blog fodder.
Friday night, watched the Rangers make it to the World Series (!). Saturday morning, hit the SMU tailgate. With no intention of going to the actual game, but redonkulous weather made that impossible anyway. Nothing that a few mimosas and bloody mary's can't fix. Saturday night, watched the UNC football game until it got too painful. Sunday, took a sports breather and caught up on all things Real Housewives. And baked a damn cake. Am I a catch, or WHAT. Ha.
It has taken to recording old eps of Family Ties and Growing Pains without my telling it. And we're talking the EARLY eps. Like 1982 (Family Ties). If only it would stop recording Hannah Montana, I might marry my little Tivo.
When I get chips on my manicure (which happen all the time, so I very rarely GET manicures), instead of breaking out the bottle to repaint, I merely use a nail file and shorten my nails past the point of the chip. Lazy? You bet. But that at least means no "coke nails" for this girl. (And yes, an old roommate in Boston had one long pinky nail that we called her "coke nail" behind her back. So sue me.)
My mind is still processing "vajazzling" - and then yesterday I see an ad for a spa that offers "vattooing?!" Holy crap. Can't we just leave well enough alone? I blame the celebrities who keep getting snapped without panties. No WONDER there's now a market for this kind of thing. Yeesh. I'll pass.
The lady who sits in the office next to me is CONSTANTLY typing away on her keyboard. I know this because I can hear her. All day, every day. What in the HELL is she writing? Stories? Emails? Her autobiography? I can only hope it's something personal and not work-related, because if not, I am a ginormous slacker. Okay, that's true regardless. But seriously. What. Is. She. Typing.
Now, I will compete with her: ajsdfhnapfhpqwitn guwbsjlgbslgnwopingpwgnwpighwpigonpnog;wougb;pign'pgjwign'a[pio'palsjodgno nnguhgubajklgha0ugboagn;oagh rgbnos.
Wow, that was fast. Bet she wonders what I'm doing. Actually, she's probably so busy typing she can't hear what's going on in my office. Time to crank up the Def Leppard.
Cannot believe this baseball team is still winning. I don't mean to sound jaded, but having grown up in Dallas and attended a plethora of ballgames - both at the old and new stadiums - I just never thought I would see the day that they could actually make it to the World Series. WTR.
My dad called them the "Strangers" growing up - and that was kind of it. They were a joke. Games were fun, you brought your glove in the hopes of catching a fly ball, and dancing with the San Diego chicken was always a highlight. But hel-looo Rangers 2010. Add in the fact that a few of them are easy on the eyes, and you've got yourselves a new fan right here. Speaking of new fans, I love that all of Dallas is in an uproar - such bandwagon fans, but hey. Better late than never.
A guy I used to work with, Hal*, was kind of a nightmare. A big, bulging guy, he even got arrested once AT WORK for domestic violence. (He married the accuser like a week later - they are now divorced.) He left the company before I did, but soon after I started hearing from a mutual friend that he was badmouthing me all over town, calling me a "bitch" and that he hated me, blah blah. Um, I honestly do not recall ever talking to him. Ever. My feelings were a little hurt, because it's not fun to be hated, but who cares. He's a douche.
Cut to last month, when I randomly received a Facebook friend request from him. Confused - would he start writing mean things on my wall?-I begrudgingly accepted. He even "liked" one of my posts. So I thought whatever ill will he had towards me must be water under the bridge.
Until this morning. The same mutual friend ran into him at a bar over the weekend, and mentioned that we were FB friends. He said something like, "So Sarah and I are Facebook friends. So be it. She wouldn't give me the time of day, anyhow." Um what?? So I took matters into my own hands and sent him a FB message this morning. Told him I didn't know what I had ever done to him, but if he insisted on continuing to talk sh*t about me, then please de-friend me because it's just not worth it.
He wrote right back, apologizing and saying his "badmouthing" was misconstrued (mmm-kay). That he had been mad at me 2 or 3 years ago for telling him the food at an event was actually for the GUESTS, not for the staff. And this was the grudge he had held ever since. Still doesn't explain why he thinks I'm too good to talk to him, except for the fact that he's right. I am. So there. :p
Yesterday was gorgeous weather, so I rolled down the windows on the drive home. Eventually I felt something on my shoulder, and looked down to find a FREAKING BEE on me. How in the world did a bee keep up with me going 65 down Central Expressway? Was it Superbee? I freaked out and nearly swerved into the next lane as I flung him off me. Somehow only came away with a mosquito bite on my ankle, which is still a little bizarro. But I guess better than a bee sting. RIP little guy.
I surrender. I spent another two hours finishing up the elliptical, and damn it looks good. Then I plugged it in, and NOTHING. Blew on the plug, flipped it around, and tried it again. Still, NOTHING. Was getting a Christmas Vacation flashback where he can't get the lights to turn on. I'm sure it's something I did in putting it together, but the wiring was back in step 3 out of 11. Plus the machine is crazy loud. I was under the impression it would be whisper-soft and wouldn't wake the neighbors. Cue an 8 a.m. phone call to the Nordictrack helpdesk, and supposedly someone will be coming out to see how tragically I put this thing together. Hoping he can fix it, because I had to rip apart all the boxes to even get this monstrosity into my apartment, so no clue how I would send it back (assuming I can). Sweet!!
Not to mention the plethora of bruises that are still brewing under the surface on both arms and legs. Good thing it's not bathing suit season anymore.
Rocking a french braid today. Not sure I have worn my hair in a french braid since like the late 80s. But there are just so many ways to pull bangs back. Barrette? Check. Baby rubber band? Check. Headband? Check. And now we can add french braid to the list. Someone already poked their head in my office to say "That's how I used to wear MY hair!" So at the very least, I'm providing people with a little blast from the past. You're welcome.
...to put together an elliptical machine. Apparently more than just little ol' me. Damn there are a lot of little parts.
I got home yesterday to find a gigantic box on the patio, blocking the sun. Literally it weighed 200 pounds. I somehow had to get it inside. When I tried to pull the straps to tug it along, the straps broke and I literally fell backwards. Now dirty and sweating, I pushed it into the doorway but couldn't get it up and over the door frame. An added problem: I could no longer close my door. So obviously something had to be done. I decided to rip open the box and take some of the smaller pieces out in the hopes of making it a little lighter and liftable. Well, it never got THAT light, but I was finally able to shove it inside. And then couldn't close my door from the inside. Oh the humanity. Huffed and puffed and managed to push it into the middle of the den. Looks like a good spot to me.
Took a small break to wash up and go to happy hour. Maybe after a few drinks this would get easier. Or not.
Back at the homestead, I got the pieces out and tried not to start crying. Why didn't I pay the additional $100 to get someone to come assemble it? And why don't I have a boyfriend who could do this for me - er, help me do this? With bleeding and bruised hands, I spent about two hours working on this thing. And it's about halfway completed. Even busted out my never-been-used electric screwdriver, although that doesn't seem to be helping.
If I can complete this - and that's a BIG if - I'm going to buy myself something, like a toolbelt. Or something girly, like a manicure. So I can avoid future handyman tasks like this.
Sixth grade, Hockaday math class with Mrs. Roe: we had a Googol Party. For those who don't know, a googol is the number 1 followed by 100 zeros, and we all had to make and decorate zeros to go around the room, as I recall. Everytime I hear "Google," I think "googol." Just thought I would share.
Also, that math class was a sugar high - our teacher was obsessed with "sticky, yucky cherries" - gummy cherries - and I think that was the food on hand at the Googol Party. Ah, to be 12 again. Actually, I'd rather not.
I guess I should be grateful that I no longer sweat when walking outside. But it's still DAMN hot for mid-October. My sweaters are dying to be worn, and yet - it's way too warm for that. But it's also way too late in the year for sundresses. What in the world is a person supposed to wear?! The only semi-solution I can come up with: sundresses - with BOOTS. Because that makes it fall-ish. Right? RIGHT?! Ugh.
I'm loving the "pink-out" this month for breast cancer awareness. Especially in the NFL - nice pink gloves, boys! It takes a real man to play professional football in pink. And I noticed quite a few comic strips in the Sunday paper were all pink. LOVE IT. Keep it comin'.
I wore one of the super-cute dresses I bought from my friend's Hunter Dixon clothing line to the rehearsal dinner this past Friday night in Iowa. I didn't notice until I put it on this weekend that there is a snap right at the chest, but whatev. It popped open a few times on the way to the rehearsal, but as long as I didn't take too big of a breath, it was good to go. Guess I forgot about that when getting up to make my toast at the dinner. In front of about 50 people, I literally got one word out and POP! The snap opened. Typical.
I decided I had a couple of options. One: I turn around in embarrassment and snap the dress back together. Two: I make a run for it. I went with option three: finish the toast as quickly as possible with my arms crossed across my chest. So ridiculous-looking. Apparently only the people at my table right in front knew what had actually happened, though - everyone else I talked to later just thought I was "really nervous." Mmm-kay. Such a nightmare. And so very "Sarah." Sigh.
Stretching my bridesmaid muscles for my friend Catherine's wedding in Iowa this weekend. Somehow in 33 years I have only been a bridesmaid three times - plus a fourth next summer for my brother's wedding. That's not bad, when you consider that practically everyone I know is married.
The dress is rewearable (with a little nipping and tucking), and I will be marking off two more states where I have never been (Iowa and Illinois, where I am actually flying into). I will not, however, be participating in the bouquet toss. It's just not funny anymore. More like humiliating. Let the 20-year-olds catch it. Please?
(and yes, I realize the majority of this blog is dedicated to The Bachelor and its franchise. Sue me.)
I was searching for Bachelor Pad on Tivo a few months back, and noticed that The Bachelor popped up. Excited by the idea that reruns were being aired, I recorded it. Apparently the Logo channel (aka the gay network) was airing the Andrew Firestone season. So I watched a few, and got bored and stopped. The network is now re-airing...the same season. Again from the beginning. WTF. Do the gays like Andrew Firestone best? Because they might have some success with the Jake Pavelka season. Just saying.
For a mere $250,000, the Neiman Marcus Christmas Book is offering a his and hers Metroship Luxury Houseboat. Where in the world would someone in Dallas keep something like that? Lake Lewisville?? (Yeah, because that's the only thing keeping me from getting one. Where to put it.)
Obsessed with the cute guy who plays twins in "The Facebook Movie," I did a little investigating via imdb.com. Turns out he used to live in Dallas (shout-out), and his name is Armie Hammer. Which is short for Armand. Armand Hammer? Arm and Hammer? Ouch. Thanks, mom and dad. They might as well have named him IfIhada. Heh.
As I let news of my office crush slip to more and more people, it's funny to see what people will do to help. Exhibit A: the male intern in our office suggested I "just go over there and say Hi." Oddly enough, a few other co-workers have said the same thing. What a notion!
Then yesterday, another girl found him on Myspace. And he uses it often. (Really? MYSPACE?!) Where he is listed as both single (woo) and straight (woo HOO). Must. Make. My. Move. (not that I have a move. But if I did, now would be the time to make it.)
Going to The Facebook Movie tonight. And yes, I know it's called "The Social Network." But I like calling it "The Facebook Movie." As an avid fan of all things FB related, I am stupid excited to see this movie. A little Timberlake action doesn't hurt.
...who brought a water bottle full of wine in my purse to a bar on Saturday to watch TX/OU. That's right. I did buy two actual glasses from the waitress out of sheer guilt (and obviously needed to get a glass somehow), but yes. Didn't even need to go to the bathroom to refill - just utilized some stealth moves at our table. (And yes, odds are the waitress totally knew. But whatever. I saved like $15.) Classy!
You know how if you can hold off on buying the latest phone or computer or flat-screen or whatever, in like a year (or hell, 6 months) the prices drop dramatically?
Apparently the same goes for premium cable programming. I don't have HBO or Showtime (unless you count those awesome free weekends, but I never realize it until like Sunday night), but now the CW (omg I just typed "WB." How old am I.), among other channels I do get, airs shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm and Entourage. (They started showing Sex and the City a while back as well.) So now I can finally get caught up on what everyone has been talking about for like the last 5 years.