What are you REALLY thankful for? November 26, 2008

Ah, Thanksgiving.  My favorite holiday.  It’s all about family.  It’s all about a group of loved ones sitting around a table together, enjoying each other’s company and the finest of foods.  Especially my two favorites: cranberry sauce with the lines, and Pillsbury crescent rolls.  Yes, that’s right, food straight from the can — I know you’re shocked.  (But I am responsible for the apple pie, and it will not be out of a box.)

It’s so sweet when everyone gets the opportunity to express what they’re thankful for.  Family is a popular choice.  The bounty of food set before us, always a classic.   Bless the meal and those who prepared it.  Amen.

This year, I think I’m going to be real with my thanks.  My gratitude is for things far less noble, and I’m not afraid to admit it.  So, in honor of this season of appreciativeness, here are ten things I am giving props to:

1.  PBS.  If not for PBS, I wouldn’t know anything about Celtic Thunder.  My fangirl days would have ended when NKOTB decided to sing about dirty dogs, and I would have never known the thrill of hugging a freshly showered Irishman.

2.  MySpace/Facebook.  Without MySpace and Facebook, I would have never reconnected with so many friends from my youth.  If not for them, I wouldn’t have started blogging.  So actually, if you like reading this blog, you should be thankful for them too.  Go ahead, give thanks, I’ll wait.

3.  Awesome bras.  I have nursed two children, so the girls ain’t what they used to be.  God bless Playtex.  And Maidenform.  And that Target brand that I love so much.  Thank you for your support.  And for helping me to look decent in a t-shirt.

4.  Children’s programming.  Before I had kids, I wrinkled my nose at the idea of plopping a child in front of the TV for any amount of time.  Then I needed 15 minutes to get ready, and Noggin became my best friend.  I don’t even mind that I hum a few bars of The Backyardigans throughout the day.  Yooouuurrrr backyard friends, the Backyaaaarrrdigans…

5.  Little Caesar’s $5 Carry Out Pizzas.  On a night when things are hectic, all that separates us from a hot (or at least pretty warm) meal is $5.30.

6.  Naptime.  One child slumbering peacefully in a crib.  The other curled up on the couch.  Silence.  Pure bliss. 

7.  DVR.  Digital cable with SmartBox: $59.99.  DVR service: $6.95.  Never missing an episode of Lost: Priceless.

8.  Online public records.  I’m curious.  No, not nosy, curious.  Big difference.  But sometimes I do get really bored, so I probably know what you paid for your house, or about that speeding ticket you got when you were 19.  Seriously, though, every single girl (and I guess guy) should be thankful for online public records.  They really assist in the selection process.

9.  Crayons and kids’ cups at restaurants.  I’ve never had to buy a box of crayons.  I did for variety’s sake, otherwise every picture would’ve been colored in primaries.  Even though we paid for the meal, sticking the crayons in the diaper bag and grabbing the plastic cup on the way out make me feel like I’ve gotten a little something extra.

10.  Family and friends.  Oh, come on!  I’m not completely shallow and heartless! 

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!  Eat something out of a can just for me!

Undomesticated November 25, 2008

I am a wife and a mother, and I get to stay at home with my daughters.  This is the life I have always wanted — my dream job, if you will.

I’m pretty comfortable with the raising children part.  I actually like doing laundry and figuring out which cleaning products work best for certain tasks. 

But then there’s the part of the day when The Husband arrives home from work, and he and the children look at me expectantly.  What is it that they’re looking for?

Oh yeah.  Dinner.

It’s not that I can’t cook.  I have, and nobody’s been sent to the hospital.  I just never took an interest in it as I was growing up.  I was never compelled to linger in the kitchen and earnestly watch my mom prepare our meals.  When I lived with my grandmother, my aunt would come up on one weekend and prepare and freeze enough food to last until she came again.  Then I went to college, and there was a meal plan.  I’m really not sure what I did when I was with The Wolf.  I must’ve blocked a lot of that time…  When I was single, dating allowed me to eat something other than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chicken pot pie.

I like to tell people something I heard once — “I told my husband it’s his choice.  He can get his cooking in the kitchen or the bedroom… We eat Wendy’s a lot.”  (And the speaker even used Wendy’s as her example.  Apparently Wendy’s is the dinner substitution of choice for active couples everywhere.)

That’s all well and good, but c’mon.  The poor guy works his tail off and then has to come home and cook for us?  No, that’s not going to cut it.  At least not for me.  This is the life I wanted, and goshdarnit I’m going to make it work.

I must cook.

So last week I had the opportunity to go to one of those places that does the prepared meals.  You know, you walk into a gleaming kitchen area, the food is separated and labeled especially for people like me – the scullery-challenged.

It was in this pristine kitchen that I realized my greatest fear.

RAW MEAT.

Sure, I’ve handled it before, and I’ve had an inkling that it wasn’t my favorite thing.  Hyperventilating as I cut a piece of chicken clued me in.  But there, having to squish ground beef between my gloved fingers, having to take a piece of pork tenderloin and make it fit into a Ziploc bag…

…

…

Sorry.  The memories just sent me into some sort of episode.

Fear or no fear, at the end of the evening there were eight meals going home with me.  Wrapped in foil and cellophane and labeled with cooking instructions, they were mine.  All mine.  If I can just use this as my jumping off point, let this be the beginning of a beautiful friendship between me and my kitchen… There would just be no stopping me!  Never you mind that the one evening out did not include children clamoring for my attention while I prepared the food, and that it did include several fun friends and a glass or two of wine… If I can do eight meals in one evening, certainly I can handle three or four in a week.  Certainly.

Loss. November 24, 2008

I didn’t know her well.  My memories of her are a young and incredibly cheerful college student, always smiling, always laughing.  She was an adorable girl, with a precious Southern accent.  She was sweet, and she was fun. 

Even though I didn’t know her well, my heart is breaking for her family and her friends.  Not only having to deal with the loss of this beautiful person, but with such tragic circumstances.  I’m a parent.  There is no way to wrap my mind around what they must be feeling.  I have a younger sister, and the thought of losing her takes my breath away.

I know her friends are heartbroken and shaken. 

And there’s a classroom full of second-graders struggling to understand life and death now, as the teacher who I can only imagine gave them an incredible amount of love was taken from them. 

May God be with the family as they have to endure not only the loss of their precious girl, but the pain of dealing with the circumstances surrounding her death.

I Don’t Watch “The Office” November 20, 2008

There.  I said it.  *whew*  Boy, am I glad I got that off my chest.

I’ve considered watching it.  I mean, there are like five seasons’ worth of inside jokes that I am totally left out of because of my failure to watch.  The Husband and I decided we’d try to watch when it started airing on TBS, and we happened to catch an episode where every other word was being bleeped.  We weren’t offended as much as we were just annoyed with it, so we never watched again.

It’s not like we don’t have our shows.  I’m trying to think about how we got into what we do watch, because I don’t think it was because of peer pressure.  We’re stubborn like that.  It’s why I’ve never seen an American Pie movie or Napoleon Dynamite.

We watch the Stargate shows because The Husband has watched them for a while.  Not when it first came out because apparently it was on Showtime or something.  Anyway, he’s watched it for a while and I was surprised when I found I could tolerate it.  It doesn’t hurt that the leading men were Richard Dean Anderson, Michael Shanks, Ben Browder and Joe Flanigan.  Because they’re FUNNY!  *tsk*  What did you think?  Yes, yes, they are all good looking, but they carry sarcastic humor to new heights.

We started watching Lost by accident.  We hadn’t watched the first season, but The Husband just happened to flip to it one night during Season 2 and we were both hooked.  A friend had Season 1 on DVD and I think it only took us a little over two weeks to get entirely caught up.  We have DVR because of Lost.  That’s the only reason we got it.  When they moved it to Thursday nights and we knew we were going to be out some Thursdays, that was all it took for The Husband (who can also be known as The Miser) to decide that DVR was worth seven bucks a month.

I didn’t watch American Idol until my sister convinced me that Clay Aiken was worth hearing.  After that, I wasn’t really a follower until Season 5, and then for some reason I started watching and blogging about Season 7 and got hooked. 

We watch Eli Stone because we figured it was worth a shot, and so far we’ve really liked it.  The fact that the show can incorporate singing and dancing and not come off looking like Cop Rock impresses me.  (And I just found out that Jonny Lee Miller, the leading actor, is British!  Never would’ve guessed!)

But we don’t watch The Office.  So I will never know what she said, I will never be emotionally invested in Jim and Pam’s relationship, and I’m not going to get Dwight.

And I’m okay with that.  As long as you can still accept me and my non-Office-watching self, we’ll all be okay.

Fool November 18, 2008

“Fool For You” by Nichole Nordeman

There are times when faith and common sense do not align,
when hardcore evidence of You is hard to find,
and I am silenced in the face of argumenative debate,
it’s a long hill it’s a lonley climb. Maybe it’s true.

CHORUS:
Cause they want proof,
They want proof of all these mysteries I claim,
Cause only fools would want to chant a dead man’s name.
I would be a fool for you all because you asked me to.
A simpleton who’s seeming naive,
I do believe You came and made Yourself a fool for me.

I admit that in my darkest hours I’ve asked what if,
What if we created some kind of man made faith like this,
Out of good intention or emotional invention,
and after life is through there will be no You.

Cause they want proof of all these miracles I claim,
Cause only fools believe that men can walk on waves.
Maybe it’s true.

Unaware of popularity,
and unconcerned with dignity,
You made me free.
That’s proof enough for me.

I would be a fool for You,
Only if You asked me to,
A simpleton who’s only thinking of,
The cause of love.

I will speak Jesus name,
and if that makes me crazy,
they can call me crazed,
I’m happy to be seemingly naive,
I do believe You came and
made Yourself a fool for me.

Yep.  That about sums it up.  Thank you, Kristin, for sending these lyrics to me.  Thank you, Nichole Nordeman, for this song.

I guess I’m weird… November 17, 2008

I have Christmas spirit.  I really do.  I just don’t really get into it until after Thanksgiving.  I love Thanksgiving.  Love it.  It was always our biggest family gathering.  Amazingly drama-free, Thanksgiving has always been so much fun.  Lots of people crowded into a small house, eating the best food EVER, talking, watching football, and sleeping.  Best holiday, hands down.

Christmas is great.  I mean, hel-lo, celebrating the birth of Jesus?  It should be a big deal.  And it is.  It is in my heart, and my girls will never be asked whose birthday they are celebrating on December 25th and look up and say, “Grandpa’s?”  (I did that.)

We don’t have a tree.  I think we had one our first Christmas.  It was a rather small thing, barely taller than The Husband.  I’m not even quite sure how we had ornaments for it, to tell you the truth.  It was old, though, and kind of hurting, so it didn’t get taken out after that first Christmas.  Our second Christmas, when we were in a house and had a 2-month-old, there was not going to be a tree.  Apparently that could possibly be a federal offense, so we were given a small tree (two feet tall) that came with small shiny plastic ornaments.  We put it on our dining room table.  I’m looking around and I’m not sure where we’ll put it this year since Li’l Bit could get her hands on it…

But… really?  I wouldn’t mind if we didn’t have a tree at all.

Don’t look at me like that.

Seriously.  Stop.

The grandparents put trees up.  Friends do.  The girls will see plenty of trees.  Where do we put the presents, you ask?  …What presents?

Okay, pick up your jaw.

The Husband and I give each other something.  We buy for our family.  We open all of our gifts at the grandparents’ houses.  So as far as the girls are concerned, Santa takes their gifts there.  Does it really matter as long as they get them?  I don’t think so.  Besides, they’re not given by us.  We gave Big Sister her first gift last year, and she quickly dismissed it in favor of a similar item given to her by her great-grandmother, so I’m okay with them just getting their much-appreciated gifts from other family members.

We’ll probably have lights up.  The Husband is okay with not having a tree this year, but he likes lights.  I like them because he does them and I don’t have to help.  I did lights one year when I was single.  I’m pretty sure they were still on the house when I moved out… in July or August…  I love looking at Christmas lights. Other people’s Christmas lights are best.  Big Sister has these really cool glasses that make the lights look like little snowmen.  I’ve never been high on an illegal substance, but I’m pretty sure it’s all kinds of trippy.

There’s a part of me that thinks there’s some piece of Mom Gene missing from me in that I don’t get all excited about decorating in general.  I think it’s so cool to see people’s creative ideas for nurseries and kids’ rooms.  I saw one little girl’s room all done with a High School Musical theme — with the title even painted on the wall!  The mom is completely prepared to change it when a new fad comes along!  The only reason my girls have matching “art” in their room is because I went through a Kim Anderson phase in high school.

The good thing is, I’m almost certain they’re not going to know any better.  That their furniture is a mixture of things I had when I lived with my grandmother and hand-me-downs from generous friends.  That if anything matches, it’s almost guaranteed to be accidental. 

I had Holly Hobby window treatments and matching bed spread until I was out of the house.  I never had a second thought about it.  I also never realized that we were getting just three gifts a year under the tree until I was told as an adult that was the case.  We always had what we needed.  Most of the time, we always got what we wanted as well.

That’s a tradition I don’t mind carrying on.

Adventures in Fangirling November 13, 2008

Could there have been a better day?  I think not.

Fangirl Friend (hereby referred to as FF) and I got an early start thanks to a very, very good friend who was willing to take both my girls for the entire afternoon.  FF and I got to our destination, caught up with each other and just killed some time.  Then it was time to go meet more fangirls.  They had arranged to gather at a restaurant, and we were joining them.

We soon realized we were minor league fangirls.  They had the shirts.  Bumper stickers.  And glow sticks.  The glow sticks were of the utmost importance.  Some had come from the tippy top of the state, and this was not their first concert.  They were diehards.  Several were also quite a bit older than us.  Maybe that’s what happens when a group is publicized only on public television.

Off to the venue.  FF debated whether or not to get a program, and ultimately decided to go for it.  We gazed at the images, studied the song list, and waited patiently for the concert to begin.

The concert itself was not what we expected — it was better!  Their singing was even more amazing live than it was on the DVD!  We laughed, we squealed, we woo-hooed, we sighed dreamily.  We also learned that at least one member wears smiley-face boxers beneath his kilt.

After the concert, what were two fangirls to do?  We knew the group was meeting those who paid a pretty penny to get up close and personal with them, so we decided to mosey around the building.  You know, maybe see if we came across any tour buses…

We walked around the arena.  The area around us just kept getting darker.  I looked down a very wide alley.  FF hesitated.  I pointed and said, “That looks like a bus.”  We trekked on.  Passing us were those we’d heard talking about the meet and greet at the restaurant — a good sign. 

We approached a gated area and saw not one, not two, but three buses.  I looked down the sidewalk and smiled.  Jackpot!  Creepy stalker people.  (Not really.  Because they were a lot like us.  And we’re not creepy at all.)  I dragged FF along to join them.

We were in the company of several others, and we struck up a lively conversation with a mom, her daughter and her daughter’s friend.  (Cool mom, letting the girls stay up to stalk like that.  I hope I’m that cool when I grow up.)  As we laughed and chatted and waited peacefully to catch a glimpse of the group, up walked some rent-a-cops.  “Time to go,” they announced. “They won’t be coming while you all are here.”  They pointed across to the other side of the buses, and we walked over… But no one really left. 

FF looked a little concerned.  She was a few feet behind me, standing very still.  She was worried about disobeying a direct order — security had asked us to leave, and I wasn’t showing any signs of compliance.  I couldn’t.  How could we leave when we were this close to where they had to go before they left??

A large portion of the group had moved up closer to an exit near the equipment truck.  There was some commotion.  I squinted toward the dimly lit area that the people were beginning to cluster around.

“IT’S RYAN!” I exclaimed.

And indeed it was Ryan Kelly, outside greeting the fans.  I turned and waved FF forward — we were going to see him.  Possibly even touch him.  I pulled out my camera to prepare it for having my picture and FF’s taken with Ryan Kelly.

That was when the little red battery popped up on my display screen.  Then the screen went black.  Not long after that, I remembered I hadn’t put the extra set of batteries in my purse.  Disappointment flooded my soul.  I was even more crushed when Paul Byrom and Keith Harkin came strolling out, merrily signing autographs and posing for pictures, just as Ryan was.

Then I realized where I was.  I was up against the little barrier that the security personnel had put up when they figured out that the fans weren’t leaving, and that the objects of the fans’ affection were going to be gracious and spend time with them.  It didn’t matter that my batteries were dead, they were coming our way.  FF got out her program.  I prayed that I wouldn’t pee my pants. 

Ryan had a Sharpie marker in his hand.  FF asked for an autograph, he signed her program, and then posed for a picture that I attempted to take of them with her phone.  (You can see their pearly whites pretty well, and that’s about it.)  Then I looked at him.  No camera to take a picture.  No program for him to sign…   No problem.

FF and I also each got a hug from Ryan.  Hugs.  From Ryan.  FF could only blink in awe and wonderment.

Paul was next.  Paul, who is strikingly good looking up close and personal.  Paul, who is also funny and charming.  He signed FF’s program.  He used. my. pen.  Mine.  He touched it.  He hugged FF.  He hugged me.

Along came Keith, his shaggy blond hair still soaking wet from his shower.  FF, who was regaining her senses, asked him if he’d gone surfing earlier that day.  “Yes,” he replied.  “Where?” she asked.  He replied that he’d been a mere 20 miles north of us.  FF had a conversation with Keith. 

My camera showed signs of life, so I attempted a picture of FF and Keith, but the screen went black again.  I got my hug from Keith, and then asked him to hug FF since the picture hadn’t worked out.  He obliged.  He also stood for many pictures with several teeny fans.  Adorable.

Then they were off.  We had the opportunity to speak to the producer who put the group together, and we waited a while longer to see if the other two members were going to come out, but really… We were quite content with what we had!  Autographs.  Clothes that carried the scent of three talented and good-looking Irish tenors.  Amazing memories.

Good times, good times.

Fangirl Friends November 11, 2008

Back when I first laid eyes on George, Paul, Ryan, Keith and Damian, PBS was offering tickets to a local concert for the rock bottom price of a $180 donation to the station.  I thoughtfully told The Husband that since our anniversary was in the same month, maybe that could be our night out…  and he was considering it!  (Have I mentioned how awesome The Husband is?)

I am a pretty practical person (as in very practical, I’m not describing myself as pretty and practical), and I realized quickly that the concert was on a weeknight, it didn’t start until 8 p.m. and was at least an hour away from home.  It would be such a late night, with much to do the following day.  It would also mean that the girls would have to be taken care of before The Husband got home from work.  It also cost a lot of money.  Blah, blah, blah, and yada, yada, yada.

The Practical Me shushed the Fangirl inside and won the argument.  I mentioned all those things to The Husband and he shrugged and said, “Fine.”  Had he said, “Are you sure about that?”… Well, I’m pretty sure Fangirl would’ve seized the opportunity to beat the ever-living stuffing out of The Practical Me in order to shriek, “No!  I’m not sure!  I want to go!“  Alas, he said “Fine” and The Practical Me smugly stuck her tongue out at Fangirl.

Now, what kind of Fangirl doesn’t try to recruit more people?  It is no fun being a Fangirl alone.  Ask any former (or current!) NKOTB fan.  I told several friends and family members about Celtic Thunder.  I did manage to get my mom interested enough to purchase both of their CDs and the DVD of their concert.  Score!  And of course, my oldest daughter still wants to listen to them in the car and can now sing A Thiarna, déan trócaire,  A Chríost, déan trócaire with conviction.  A handful of friends humored me by watching a couple of YouTube clips and blithely remarking that yes, they were great singers and yes, they were handsome.  And there were those who couldn’t get past the kilts and knee socks.  (Not skirts and legwarmers, geez.)

One friend, however, fell and fell hard.  She got me.  She was catching what I was throwing.  Not only did she become a bonafide Fangirl herself, but she converted co-workers as well.  They all decided that they would go to the concert together.  She offered to purchase a ticket for me when she purchased theirs.

Fangirl gave The Practical Me a swift kick in the shin.  Didn’t work.

Then Fangirl Friend sent me an e-mail.  She asked me simply if there was an available free ticket and transportation was provided, would I want to go to the concert with her?  Uh, would I?  WOULD I?!  Even The Practical Me couldn’t argue with that!!  I AM GOING TO THE CONCERT, BAY-BEEEE!!!

So, Fangirl Friend… thank you, thank you a thousand times over!  Thank you for feeding my own Fangirl Frenzy, for enabling my CT addiction, and most importantly being the kind of friend that you are.  The kind of friend where… if I should become a stranger, know that it would make me more than sad. 

Bring smelling salts.  I don’t know how we’re going to handle this.

F is for Fornication November 10, 2008

It got your attention, didn’t it?

I’m going to go all Southern Baptist on y’all and give you the four F’s that I found frequently throughout my featured friends’ tales of clean living.  What kept them on the straight and narrow?  What kept them from hopping into a bed prior to their marital one?  Let’s find out.

FAITH
First and foremost, their faith.  My faith was definitely the number one reason I decided to wait.  ~  It was my faith, for sure…  ~  Primarily it was my faith.  ~  Because the Bible said not to.   They believed that God designed sex for a married man and woman, and they didn’t want to go against that.  It wasn’t only their faith they attribute it to, though.  I am fully convinced that God protected and preserved me, at least in part, because my mother-in-law-to-be was praying faithfully for me for years before she knew my name.  Hear that?  As you pray for your own children to make wise decisions, it’s not a bad idea to pray for their future mate as well.

FAMILY
Because my parents told me not to.  ~  Another factor was my parents’ example.  Both of them waited (even though they did not grow up in Christian homes)…   ~  I had been taught by my parents all my life that the right thing to do was to wait to have sex until marriage…  ~  I waited because my parents instilled in me the importance of waiting…   Moms and dads, your children are listening!  Talk to them, be open with them — don’t shy away from these discussions! 

FRIENDS
I had great friends growing up, especially in high school, who held the same values as this and we were a good support to one another.   ~  I was in a crowd that mostly respected that decision.    ~  I avoided crowds that thought that way {picked on people for their virginity} and chose friends that had just as strong a commitment.

There was a time when I surrounded myself with good influential people.  It was easier then.  There was also a short time period where I hung around with people who were into having sex and partying, it was harder then.  So for the majority of my life, I stayed away from those people and that environment.  The church youth group and being involved with that helped tremendously.

These people chose friends that would support their decision.  When they didn’t, it was more difficult to stick to it.  Try this sometime.  You stand on a chair, and have a friend stand on the floor.  Try and pull your friend up.  No matter how hard you try, you probably aren’t going to get them up there with you.  Now have your friend try to pull you down to the floor.  You’ll be side-by-side with them in a hot second.  It’s a lot easier to bring someone down than pull someone up, so be around others who are going to uplift you.

FEAR!!!
Good, healthy fear.  They were scared to death of the consequences… pregnancy or STD.  ~  I was terrified of being a pregnant teen or getting pregnant in college and not finishing.  Also, the thought of having to tell their spouse that they didn’t wait.   I kept reminding myself what if, just what if, something happened to (him) and later on down the road I met someone and was going to marry them and had to tell them that I loved (the first) enough to wait for (him), but I didn’t love the new guy enough to wait for him.

“Why wait?” is the question.  “WHY NOT?” is the answer!  Wouldn’t you rather take a One-A-Day than a once-daily Valtrex?  Get paid to babysit when you’re a teen rather than work to pay a babysitter?  Experience the first time with someone who has made a commitment to you in front of God and witnesses?  Understand that “practice makes perfect” applies best when you’re practicing with the same person for the rest of your life?

And when these prudes were asked that they had missed out on anything by waiting, their answer was unanimous:  ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!  Now, you could argue that since they’ve only been with one man, they might not really know if they’re missing anything, but I can pretty much guarantee you that in this case, ignorance is the best kind of bliss there is.  Why would anyone want to try to take that away from someone, though? 

Besides, if there’s a chance that you’d find out that the man you married was the best you’d ever had, there’s also the chance to find out that he wasn’t.  Who wants that in the back of their mind?

The pros outweigh the cons.  It takes a stronger person to say no in a situation where they have a choice.  Be strong.  Be smart.  Because, really, the only true safe sex is no sex.

Until you’re married, that is.  Then you can go crazy.  It’s encouraged.

Four Things November 6, 2008

I’m going to get back to that whole virginity thing, honest.  I have to compile the interviews and I’m still waiting on a couple to get back to me.  (Hint, hint.)  SO.  While I’m just sitting here, not wanting to wait too long to blog again, I am stealing a meme I’m sure I’ve done before but also just saw on Because I Said So and decided to do it myself.  So there.

FOUR JOBS I’VE HAD:
1.  Cashier at Checkers  (Yes, it was indeed as nasty as you might imagine.)
2.  Cashier at Chick-fil-A  (Definitely a step UP!)
3.  Receptionist at a couple of places  (I used to be able to smile at everyone regardless of my mood.)
4.  Executive Assistant for various important people  (Important = their name is the company’s name.)

FOUR MOVIES I COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER:
1.  While You Were Sleeping
2.  Wayne’s World
3.  You’ve Got Mail
4.  Pretty much anything with Adam Sandler (That falls into the “guilty pleasure” category… and not everything he’s done.  I haven’t seen his last two.  Or the one where he was Satan’s son or something.  That just looked stupid.  And, you know, all his other movies were clearly works of art.)

FOUR PLACES I’VE LIVED
1.  Where I was born
2.  Where I was raised (which is the same as where I was born)
3.  Where I went to college
4.  Where I moved back to after college (see #1 and #2)

FOUR TV SHOWS I LOVE:
1.  Lost — because of the complexity of the storyline.  It has nothing to do with Sawyer.  Nothing at all.
2.  American Idol — because I’m a lemming and it gives me something to blog about.
3.  House M.D. — because The Husband and I watch it together.
4.  Friends — because everything in life can be connected to a Friends episode.

FOUR PLACES I’VE VACATIONED:
1.  Temecula, CA
2.  Blue Ridge, GA
3.  Atlanta, GA
4.  Orlando, FL

FOUR OF MY FAVORITE FOODS:
1.  Chicken and rice
2.  Pizza
3.  Spaghetti
4.  Almost anything that The Husband makes

FOUR FAVORITE DRINKS:
1.  Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Coke — still my favorite, even though I can’t get it anymore.  *cries*
2.  Diet Dr. Pepper
3.  Chai tea
4.  Sweet iced tea

FOUR SITES I VISIT DAILY:
1.  Facebook
2.  iVillage
3.  Facebook
4.  Google Reader

FOUR PLACES I’D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:
1.  On my porch in the hammock chair
2.  Alone with The Husband
3.  Two weeks in the future when my sister and her family are here
4.  Right where I am is also good