A Rose by Any Other Name...

It's been a while, and I'm sorry for that. I've been spending a lot of time at my other blog and have also been really sick this week...allergies, I'm thinking. Maybe I'm allergic to weight loss. I always seem to get sick right around the time I want to diet...
ANYWAY...That's not what I came on here about. Something happened yesterday that really caught my attention. As some of you may know, our Madison basketball team are now state champs! Yay! (Not that I really pay much attention to our sports anymore, sadly) At work, we have a sign out front that we change for birthdays, community events, animal-related memos, and all the like. So Tuesday, one of the doctors wanted me to put out on the sign:
"Congrats MCHS Mens BBall
State Champs"
So I put it out there...just like that. Believe it or not, we actually got a call about it! Now, this doesn't always surprise us, because a lot of our clients who drive by and see the sign will call and ask about something it says or make a comment on it or something. This call was...well...ridiculous! The caller made a complaint, saying that it should be "boys" and not "men." Are you serious?!?!?! He went on to explain that "men" is for college. Well, last I checked, once you hit 18 you are considered a "man." Heck, usually once you hit puberty, you are a "man."
Why are we so obsessed about the "proper" titles and labels we put on things? We all know what we mean, so why does it have to be just the right word? For instance...and please, please, PLEASE do not ever think I am racist or prejudice or any of the like, because I'm not...Back in high school, I had a group project in Government class. Each group had to pick a Supreme Justice and do a report on him or her, which was then read aloud in front of class. My group had Clarence Thomas who, as some of you may know (I say some because believe it or not, many Americans don't know) is the second "African-American" Supreme Justice. When I got to mentioning that point in our essay, I didn't say "African-American," I said "black." I can't begin to tell you my embarrassment as the entire WHITE class shouted at me, "African-American!"
Why should that matter? We ("we" being white folk) don't care if we're called white. No idiot (except those on major tests you take in school) asks us if we're "caucasian." As my father says, "There is no such thing as a hyphenated American." If you're American, no one usually asks about your origin. Otherwise I would be a German-Polish-Irish-English-tiniest bit French-maybe some Scottish-American (I did ancestry.com!). Otherwise, as I like to call it, a European Mutt...and proud of it!
We put so many labels on things...and obviously people. Why not call it what it is? The guys don't care if they're called "men" or "boys," though, I'm sure some of the ones with the bigger egos (aka most of the school populace) would prefer men. We obsess over the little, insignificant things in life. And people wonder why we're under so much stress...

Role Playing

I have this little weird thing I do. I've noticed me doing this ever since I was in middle school, I think. That's the earliest I remember doing it, anyway. What is this "little weird thing"? Well, after I have watched something, usually a movie, but sometimes after shows, I start acting like the main heroine. For instance: After watching Entrapment with Catherine Zeta-Jones, I start moving stealthily and act all coy. After Sweet Home Alabama with Reese Witherspoon, my southern accent really comes through. After watching Save the Last Dance with Julia Stiles, I'll randomly start dancing, usually gracefully and ballerina-like. Don't ask me why I do it, I just find myself almost subconsciously doing it.
So now I'm watching Sex and the City (the show). I bought the first two seasons. I love it. It's a really great chick flick-type show. It makes you want to grab a glass of wine, get into an old t-shirt and jeans or sweats, and just relax. Or, in my case, type. Now, see, my brother has kinda gotten me thinking. At Steve's wedding, Eric sat me down in between the Cha-Cha Slide and the Macarena for a chat. "Here's the thing," he says. "The whole animal thing? I think you should drop it. What do you think about free-lance journalism?"
Okay, maybe he didn't say it quite like that, but pretty darn close. Turns out he really likes my blog. I'm completely flattered, especially because all modesty aside I REALLY don't think I'm all that great. I mean, it's like I'm writing in a journal or something. I don't really think about it. But when my brothers notice something I do, I just swell up with pride, even if it's as simple as telling a joke.
So, thanks to Eric's suggestion and Carrie Bradshaw (aka Sarah Jessica Parker), I think I might like to try it. Things at work are getting a little...funny (and I don't mean "ha ha"), so I was planning on looking for a new job after Mike and I closed on this house. No, I'm not going to go exclusively free-lance. I don't even know how to go about getting started. It would just be a side job. You know, to see if any publisher/newspaper/magazine would go for it. If anyone has any ideas on this subject, I'm all ears. It could be interesting.

Eye of the Tiger

Okay, so normally I don't post twice in one day...heck, normally not even twice in one month! So you know something's up, right?
Well, this past weekend has really gotten me thinking. I've always been insecure about my weight, and I have now just realized that I'm at my all-time high pound-wise. This weekend made me think of it because I had bought new pants for the wedding. They fit me wonderfully in the store. I haven't worn them between buying them and the wedding, so I can't blame the washing machine for this one. Sometime during the ceremony I come to find out I split my brand new pants. Thankfully in an inconspicous spot, mind you. BUT I WAS WEARING SPANX, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!!! So, I've decided that I'm going to do something about this. I've dieted before, I've worked out before. I've diet pilled, I've SlimFasted, I've danced, I've crunched, I've walked, I've jogged, I decided to go back to walking. I've done just about everything I can think of. I'll lose about five pounds and then go right back. Now, I'm not trying to look like Kate Moss, or even trying to get down to a size six. I mainly just want a flatter stomach, if possible, and to generally feel better about myself. I'm not going to fad diet...no Atkins or South Beach or Weight Watchers. I'm going to just find out what are the correct portion sizes.
This is where you guys come in. I'm thinking that maybe if I have a support group behind me, making sure I don't give up (like usual), I can get some of this weight off. No offense, mom, but nagging doesn't usually come across as helpful. I'm hoping to get a membership at the fitness center up in Culpeper, since we're moving up there. It'll be on the way home, so I figure I could just stop off on my way home from work.
So I'm going to start a new blog, giving you weekly updates on weight loss and/or gain (hopefully not much of the latter) and I'm thinking monthly photo updates. Feel free to send me e-mails or comments to help me along.

Steve and Anna's Wedding

This past weekend was great. My second-oldest brother, Steve, got married up in Pittsburgh. Yay! It was a beautiful wedding in a GORGEOUS church. Getting to the church was not gorgeous, however. Oh...my...gosh!!! I am SO glad I don't live in a city. The traffic, all the turns and loops and ramps and side roads...it makes you feel like throwing up your hands and yelling, "Weeeeeeee!" I'm serious! It's like a roller coaster!

Anyway, on to the wedding. As I said, the church was stunning. All hand-carved wood and arched ceiling. And don't get me started on the Tiffany stained-glass windows! The rehearsal dinner was at the Hard Rock Cafe. My neice, Emily, got a little preview of night life. Afterwards, we decided to go up the coal trolley thing. I'm not entirely sure what it's called, but according to the pictures and memorabilia at the top, it was used to get people up and down the side of the mountain back in the mining days. It was an open, three compartment car that was pulled up and down the side of the mountain by pulleys. The Millers were spread out in each compartment. It was one of those times you wish you had a tape recorder. We may have been a small group, but let's just say that we had a presence! Laughter was non-stop, one-liners slipping out left and right, one after the other, each person playing off the other. Not just the Millers...the entire group! And Anna jumping right in (I knew I liked her!). We get to the top and it's FREEZING outside, but the warmness in our hearts was enough to get most of us out on that observation deck. Okay, maybe not. After about ten minutes we all headed back to the trolley!

The wedding ceremony was beautiful. I read a poem and Chris and Jimmy each read passages from the Bible and about the Unity Cross. Steve serenaded his lovely bride, playing on the guitar and singing "When You Say Nothing at All." The reception was held at a banquet hall close to our hotel. I tried to get Mike out on the dance floor, but he was a party pooper and refused. I managed to coax Katie out on the floor with the Electric Slide. Jimmy came out for that one, too. Then there was the Cha-Cha Slide, which by the end of the song my legs were jelly. Dancing in heels is not the best...I don't recommend it for long periods of time. Then there was the Macarena. That was a bit more booty shaking on my brother's behalf that I believe I ever wanted to see! Right before Mike and I went to go to the hotel to change, Jon (the DJ) played "Thriller." He only played it because dad said that Katie and I could dance to it. Heh...riiiiight! We knew the moves all right. The only problem was we didn't know which order to put them in! We finally happily gave up trying.

To end the night off, we went bowling. Mike and I were tired, so we only bowled two games with Matt and Michelle and headed back out at around one in the morning. All the wedding party played in their formal attire. Yep, even the bride and groom. I'd hate to see what the hem of Anna's dress looked like after that!

Be My Valentine

Hello, blogging world!

I know it's been awhile. Not a lot has been going on lately in my life. Just mainly work and home, work and home. I did have a little skip in my record, so to speak, as last weekend, my dear husband took me away for a romantic weekend for Valentine's Day.

That's right, girls! Start the swooning and cooing and awwing. It started Friday, when Mike sent me a large bouquet of Stargazer lilies...my absolute FAVORITE flower! That may not say a lot, but what you people don't realize is that, as much as I love him, Mike's memory is not the greatest. He'll admit it, too. So, instead of sending the common Valentine's rose or a bouquet of wildflowers (both of which I would have absolutely loved as well), he actually remembered my favorite flower and had them sent to me. It came with a teddy bear and tear-jerking note, as well.

They have pretty much all opened since this picture was taken and they are beautiful!

The next day, Saturday, he picked me up from work. We had to go to the house inspection first (that's another looooong story). Straight from the inspection, we headed over to Fredericksburg, where we ate at the Olive Garden (best Italian EVER, in my opinion). We had time to kill before checking into the hotel, so we went to Spotsylvania Mall to walk off our dinner and to look for something special for that night (don't worry, that's all I'll say on the matter!). We couldn't find anything we liked, so we headed over to Lane Bryant across the way and found exactly what I'd been hoping to find. By that time, we were able to check in, so we drove behind Central Park to the Hilton. The Hilton! We made our way to our room and, after making me wait in the bathroom (not that I minded, I needed to change anyway), he told me I was allowed to come out. I walk out of the door to "At Last", the lights are off, there's a path of petals on the floor leading me to a petal-strewn bed. Little flameless candles are placed everwhere. Mike popped open a bottle of champagne and handed me a bubbly glass. And then...

You didn't seriously think I'd go on, did you? ;-) It was a great night, and I was kind of upset that it had to end. But Mike is so romantic and loving, that I only have to wait until next time. Until then, (*sigh*) back to my regular life...

Happy Birthday to Me...?

Okay, so my birthday was last week. It started off great just because I actually had off for my birthday this year. It was my usual day off from work, and to top it off, I didn't have ANY errands to run or jobs to do or cleaning out any houses! I didn't really do a lot for my birthday (not that I'm complaining). I went to Walmart with mom and dad to get a few things. Of course, this was the day before the big snowstorm and so Walmart was full of idiotic people doing equally idiotic things. There was actually a school bus that was pulling into the parking lot, trying to make a turn that a school bus is not supposed to make.
While I was in the store, I got a text from my brother Jimmy asking if I wanted to go to karaoke that night as it was his night to bounce. At first I was like, "Yeah, right." I had a headache that had been trying to break through all day and I had work the next day and with the snow, I had to be on my A-game. In the end, I popped a couple Advil and went on to the Corner in Charlottesville. When I got to Baja, the bar where Jimmy bounces, there were all of eight people in the joint. I went ahead and put myself down to sing "Before he Cheats" by Carrie Underwood. I did really well on that one the last time, so I figured I'd do it again. I sang that one right as Jimmy showed up. Then I put myself down for "Don't Turn Around" by Ace of Base (I've been trying to look for songs that don't have a really high octave range). I'd like to say I nailed that one. Then I pushed my luck and put myself down for "Gunpowder and Lead" by Miranda Lambert. I did absolutely HORRIBLE!!!! I totally blanked on how the song went! No, not the lyrics...those were written for me in plain view. I just couldn't remember the beat. By this point the bar was pretty packed. Well, once the music finished, I had hoped to slink off to my corner of the bar and not open my mouth again. Jimmy had other ideas...
Jimmy came up behind me once I was done and took the mic from me. I looked up at the ticker on the screen to see who was next...it said Laura, not Jimmy. So why was he taking the mic? He got the bar quieted down. From the moment he started talking, I knew what was happening. Much to my horror (as if me butchering the song wasn't enough), he proceeded to tell the entire bar that I was his little sister and that it was my birthday. He then had the ENTIRE bar sing me "Happy Birthday." Did I mention that the bar was packed by this point?
Anyway, at the end, everyone cheered for me and I--now ten shades of red, I'm sure--went back to my seat. Jimmy came up to me later and told me that a funny thing happened. BBQ (the stage name of a large, funny black guy that does mostly old Motown hits) had come up to Jimmy and said, "That's your sister? She is fiiiine!" Jimmy then told him that I was married, to which he replied, "It figures."
To end the night off, right before I went up to sing a final song with Jimmy ("If I had a Million Dollars" by Barenaked Ladies), this creepy guy that looked to be in his forties or so started hitting on me. Our song couldn't have come quick enough!

Cue the "Twilight Zone"

Do you ever feel like you should be living in a different time? I do. There are times that I get this feeling. I suppose most might call it daydreaming, but I have daydreams, and then I get these...I don't know...they almost feel like memories. I have such an imagination, and I'll be the first to admit that it'll not just run away with me, but kidnap me and hold me hostage! And I'm sure it probably has something to do with the books I read, as well.
On that point, I find that I always choose books to read that are historical. Present-day novels don't interest me. I gotta tell ya, I'm a sucker for romances. But they're always set in medieval times and/or in the Scottish Highlands (I love the brogue). I have dreams at night that are so vivid, it's like I'm watching a movie, or...heck!...even living it! I've actually woken up a time or two panting due to the running or whatever I've been doing in the dream. It's weird!
Anyhoo...this was just kind of a random thought...