All I Want For Christmas

I'm not sure if you're new in town, but there are only five days left until Christmas.  FIVE DAYS.  What does that even mean?  Fun fact:  Your girl is all finished with Christmas shopping.  Take that procrastination.  Don't worry, I'm sure I'll be back to my regularly scheduled putting things off until the last minute in 2014. 

So, all of the gifts that I've purchased have either already arrived to the house or have already been shipped and should be here any day now.  The boyfriend, on the other hand, is a fan of doing things last minute like I do, he just happens to keep up the bad habit during the holidays.

The boyfriend and I approach every gift giving situation the same way:  we see if the other person is dying to have something specific that they won't buy for themselves, then either get that or surprise them with something.  I usually never ask for something specific because I LOVE surprises.  Seeing presents wrapped up that I can't touch and that I have no idea what they are kind of makes me feel like I want to die a little bit, but in a good way.  That excitement definitely has not lessened with age.  Thank goodness.

This year the bf did ask for something specific, which is fine because I tried to surprise him last Christmas and he guessed what it was in about two seconds.  He doesn't care for surprises anyway.   I actually did ask for something specific as well, but apparently the rest of you guys asked for the same thing, because it sold out before he could buy it.

So, if I see you around town with a specific Michael Kors creation, don't me surprised if I tackle you and steal it.  Maybe you guys did me a favor because now I won't know what I'm getting until I open it in FIVE DAYS.  Unless I can sweet talk him into letting me open presents on Christmas Eve again.

I can't even begin to guess what I'm getting.  I LOVE IT.  If he listens to me at all and also hates himself, hopefully I'll end up with another four legged mouth to feed.  I mean, puppies were kind of made to have little red bows on their heads.

Gimme.

I will also take a kitten, goat, or guinea pig.  Just make sure they're wearing a bow.

Unfortunately, here is a 200% chance I will not be getting a new fur baby for the holidays.  I think he feels outnumbered as it is.  Him against myself and three pets.  One more on my team and I'll get to control the thermostat and pick where we eat dinner.   

I will take any of the following as gifts though:

1.  A trampoline.

2. A tree house.

3. Any and all things that I've pinned on Pinterest.

4.  My soul back from Nelnet.  Student loan payments can really ruin a girl's day life.

5.  A Super Bowl win for my Dolphins.

6.  Britney Spears to move her Vegas show to Orlando for one night only.

7.  Nap time.

Happy shopping, honey!

P.S.  If  you could make number four happen and then write me a note about it and slip it into a new purse, that would be great.  We'll talk about it over that bottle of wine you bought me too while we're walking the new dog.

You're the BEST.

Let's be honest, I really just want you to take a picture with me and not look like you're wondering if anybody would even notice I was gone.

 

Yeah, how about you just smile for me for Christmas? 

Bang...erz

Friday! Here you are!  Was it just me, or was this the longest week ever?  Maye time is starting to slow down because it's almost Christmas time to open presents, or maybe I'm just not used to working five whole entire days a week.  Yeah, that seems more likely.  Anyway, the rest of the country you can now stop hating us/congratulate us down here in Florida because we're finally starting to pretend to join in on the Fall/Winter weather.  Well, our 55 degree version of it anyway.  I'm usually not a big fan of any temperature under 80 degrees, but since I lost my mind and signed up for a half marathon I've had to start running a lot more than usual, and I need Florida to stop trying to give me a heat stroke.  I've actually been pretty impressed with myself while training for that bad boy.  I woke up Monday morning with a goal of running five miles and finally called it quits after seven.

And luckily I didn't feel like I was going to die afterwards.  I mean, it wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done, but I can definitely see getting myself up to the big 13.1 miles by March.  Plus, I have my super supportive boyfriend on my side.  Sure he shows his support by telling me I need more carbohydrates and then feeding me McFlurries and apple pies to meet that demand, but it's support nonetheless.

Anyway, I really hope I kick this half marathon's ass and then start running them left and right, but I'll more than likely finish and swear to never put myself through that again.   No more signing up for shit when I'm a little buzzed.  It makes me think I can do stuff that will most definitely end in tears and blood. 

We'll see.

I did take a nice little break from running yesterday to do some big things.  And by big things, I mean I got some bangs. 

I went in and told the guy, 'I've had bangs before and I hated them, but I want them again and I want to like them'.  I'm sure he loved me.  But, he made it happen, and I love him for it.  The boyfriend even took notice.  I usually have to actually have my hair cut in front of him for him to even realize something is different.  This time, he walked in the house after work and said 'Oh wow, those actually look really good'.

Ummm, thanks?  We're only 3 1/2 years into the relationship, he hasn't quite gotten the whole 'compliment' thing down.  But he's just saying what I was thinking.  I didn't really think they would work out and I would spend the next six-ish weeks with them pulled back waiting for them to grow out, but dammit they do actually look good.

Annnnd now you're caught up with me.  Lots of running and rocking some bangs.  Actually, something else awesome is happening:  Today is the birthday of one of my favorite people in the world.

Happy Birthday to my Jennas!! I miss you and love you and hope you have an amazing birthday.  If you're reading this, don't forget to tell me how awesome my bangs look again.

Also, my night job really paid off last night, because while most of you suckers were snoozing, Queen Bey released a new album, and it's just as amazing as you would expect some sneaky, top secret album from Mrs. Carter to be.

You snooze you lose.

I Don't Wanna...Scratch That, I Can't Grow Up

Hi-ya!  Happy Monday!  Yeah, I said it again.  Some of you guys just need to accept that Mondays happen and find a new attitude about them.  I feel like you'll be a less annoying happier person for it.  Anyway, my weekend was nice and relaxing and amazing.  I spent Saturday going head to head with a bottle of Moscato next to a fire on the river while Joey played with friends. 

One of us was sore the next day and it wasn't the one actually running around exerting herself.  I used to love camping but within the past two years my blood has went from normal to crack for mosquitoes.  Seriously.  Bottles of bug spray are used on me and I still go home looking like the chicken pox have struck again.  But, nothing makes Joey and the boyfriend happier than being out at the river running around like fools, so suffer I shall.

 

Anywho, after washing all the dirt off of Joey and myself, I went to go hang out with my new favorite little lady.

 LOOK AT THAT FACE.  My new happy place is hanging out with her.  She is the sweetest, snuggliest, yummiest little thing I have ever laid my eyes on. 

 And it's super awesome watching one of my friends adjust to motherhood so well.  It's like somebody just handed her a baby and said 'Now be a mom' and it happened.  I never had my doubts she would be a good mom, I just find it weird that at a year and a half younger than me I don't find it odd that she is a mother, but I would find it completely ridiculous if somebody trusted me with one of those suckers.  For an afternoon?  Sure.  Hell, even a weekend.  But let's not let me be in charge of keeping it alive long term or responsible for it remembering to do it's homework later or put shoes on.  Every other 27 year old in the world?  Sure, they're plenty old enough for a baby.  But, just like every other single adult thing ever, I'm just not old enough yet. 

I still feel weird that somebody lets me drive a vehicle without an adult.  Who let me sign a lease?  WHO GAVE ME CREDIT CARDS?!  I wonder everyday if I'll ever have that 'A-ha! I'm a grown up' moment.  I wonder if the boyfriend knows he's always going to have to be the adult in this relationship?  That's a scary thought, because he has more Nerf guns than my eleven year old nephew.  Oh well.  Somebody will come to their senses one day and come take all of our grown up stuff away and make us move back in with our parents.  Whatevs, free rent.  Shit yeah.

Who would have thought a week and a half old baby would actually make me feel young?  Just add that to the mile long list of why she's the most awesome baby alive.  And now I'll leave you to your Monday while I tweak my plans to kidnap that little angel.

Don't Threaten Me With a Five Day Weekend

Hi there! I trust you're reading this a solid four to six pounds heavier.  I know I'm writing this with at least that much extra weight in mashed potatoes in me alone.  Thanksgiving was exactly what I expect it to be every year:  spending time with people I love and eating until I was 100% sure I was about to be the first person ever to die from an overdose of food.  Thank God I was smacked with a five day weekend this Thanksgiving, I needed the extra time to digest.  I shared the cooking duties with the boyfriend's dad this year, and I outdid myself this time, specifically in the dessert area.

This is a Candy and Caramel Apple Pie and I wish that was a picture of one I made, but although most of the stuff I bake tastes delicious, it usually looks like I let my 19 month old niece make it.  And that shit up there was for breakfast three times since Thanksgiving.  So. Good. 

I squeezed in a about a two hour nap after consuming roughly 8000 calories and then drank about the same amount of calories in beer and spent yet another drunk night trying to get my stupid boyfriend to take a picture with me. 

Sigh.  One of us is bound to give up in this picture battle one day.  It will more than likely be him, because I'm much better at being persistent annoying than he is.  Ask everybody. 

 Anyway, I actually decided to hop on board the Black Friday train this year, so I was regretting all that Thanksgiving Bud Light at 7:00 the next morning, big time.  But, PetSmart was having a crazy sale, so I just HAD TO.

I'm pretty sure these guys were pretty pleased I got my bum out of bed and did some shopping.  Don't worry, I got myself plenty of shit too.  Then something really exciting happened, that needs its own blog post, but then I ruined the excitement by doing something dumb.  Really dumb.  The dumbest. 

In my half hungover half still drunk confidence in myself I signed up for a half marathon.  I don't know what I was thinking, but none of it was good or sane.  So, we'll see.  

Saturday I did something just as dumb.  The boyfriend and I don't exactly agree on college football teams at all, but lucky for him, I reallllllly hate the Gators, so throwing on the garnet and gold once a year to support his team unfortunately does happen.

This is definitely a lesser of two evils situation.  I by no means like FSU more than I like UF, I just hate FSU less.   Plus, Christmas is popping up in 23 days and I'm trying to get on the bf's good side. Yep kids, it's already December.  That doesn't even make sense to me.  I actually should have been prepared for it since I've been running to Mariah Carey, Hanson, and NSYNC singing sweet sweet Christmas tunes to me since the beginning of November, but I still can't believe it's now actually close enough to the holiday to dance around to All I Want For Christmas Is You.  Well, since it's December, the rest of you guys can join in now. 

Sing a long, kids!

Sexiest Man Alive

So, if you've been living under a rock, or prefer the ladies, then you may not know that People has announced their Sexiest Man Alive.

Mercy.  Some people aren't too pleased with the choice, and to those people I say there are a few music videos and a handful of clips from American Horror Story you should go watch and then come talk to me when you're 'finished'.  (Sorry, mom.) 

Anywho, if People were to change their tune, it's obvious who their choice should have been:  The dude I get to live with.

If you don't agree then maybe I'm biased or maybe you're crazy.  Or I'm probably crazy.  Whatever. 

This post will be punishment for the past 3 1/2 years of complete and total noncooperation from him when it comes to taking pictures.  I hope this will teach you a lesson, honey.  

First of all, let's talk about his smile.  We're coming up on four years of being together and his smile still makes my tummy feel all silly.

 I mean, look at it.  You want to steal him from me, don't you?  Well you can't have him.  He's mine. 

Come on, I'm going to have to throw some good pictures of him in here so he doesn't kick me too hard when he gets home.  But really, that smile.

Second, I love a man who can accessorize, and he's the very best at it.

That face, plus a dino hat?  Dead.

Not only is he man enough to wear a 'poncho', he's crafty enough to make one himself.  My only complaint about this is that nobody thought to get a front shot.  Or maybe that's for the best, that may have been too sexy. 

Third, if you know me, you know I love animals almost as much as I love that kid. So, there is nothing more attractive to me than seeing him hanging out with a cute little furry baby.

  Wait a minute?  Those are cute pictures.  I'm getting side tracked.

There we go. 

You know what, I lied.  The only thing more attractive than a guy who loves animals as much as I do, is a guy who loves food as much as I do.

My only wish is that he thinks of me with the same fondness as he thinks of food. 

I guess I could look at the silver lining, the sillier his face looks, the better I look in the picture.  Depending on the lighting.  And what I'm wearing.  And the background.  Oh, and my face.

Since People didn't answer any of the letters I wrote to them voting for my boo to get that coveted title, I suppose Mr. Levine will have to do. 

STOP IT.

Yeah, go ahead and let that image send you right into the weekend.  YOU'RE WELCOME.

You should know that the above image was my second choice after an extremely amazing inappropriate picture that could possibly make some people uncomfortable.  Get at me if you want to see said picture.  And trust me, you want to.

Also, shake your ass a little bit for the weekend too, with Ms. Whitney.

 

 I have an open bar wedding to get to this weekend, do your best to get half as drunk as me.  Happy Friday!

Well, One of Us Is Crazy

Hi there! I haven't been kidnapped or anything, if you guys were worried at all.  If I ever do pop up on a milk carton though, you can ask our newly crazy face neighbor where he hid the body.  I kid.  Sort of.  I'm pretty sure he'll let me live.  I would love to elaborate on the situation, but, here's something funny about me:  I like to think I'm much more important than I actually am. 

It's not that I necessarily think I'm hot shit or anything, but I always think my actions are going to have a MUCH bigger impact than they actually will.  Especially any 'negative' actions. 

My much talked complained about jury duty from the other week? Lots of people I talked to had fool proof ways to get out of it that they've used before, but I just couldn't bring myself to try any of them.  Even more people said they just never show up and have yet to suffer any consequences.  It says very plainly on that pesky little piece of mail that showed up at my house that they can put you in jail for that shit.  Now, do they actually enforce that punishment? According to all of my friends enjoying their freedom, no, but they have to make an example out of somebody, right?  Might as well be me.  Scratch that, it DEFINITELY would have been me.

I also couldn't bring myself to lie after I was dumb enough to actually show up to jury duty so I would be excused.  I just knew this was a 'Runaway Jury' type situation and somebody in that room knew everything about me and they would know I was lying and again, I would go to jail.  (P.S. You should watch that movie, it's my favorite.) 

I'm insane.  I know.  Don't worry, it gets better.

Joey and I are hardcore believers in 'pooping and scooping'.  You step in dog shit enough, you do your best to make sure somebody else doesn't suffer the way you have.  The other day, I got Joey's leash out to take her on a walk, and I guess her excitement rubbed off on me, because I completely forgot to grab a bag.  So, I had no way to pick up her poop.  Any normal person would have just shrugged their shoulders and went on about their business.  Me?  First, I looked over my should about eight times to make sure I didn't have to explain myself to anybody.  Then, when Joey and I got home, I grabbed a bag, walked about a mile back to the scene of the crime, and removed the 'evidence'.  The entire time I was walking, I just knew I was going to find somebody waiting there to yell.  Either a cop, or a neighborhood watchman taking his job a little too seriously, I just knew it.  Of course, there was just a pile of shit there.  I got away with it, this time. 

One time, I thought I backed into a car in a parking lot.  I got out, checked out both cars, and realized I had actually just backed over a traffic cone, and got in my car and left.  The farther away a drove, the less convinced I was that I just backed over a cone.  Maybe I did actually hit the car and the damage was so minor that I just didn't notice it, but the owner would.  I spent the next week refusing to drive my car anywhere in case there was somebody out there who witnessed me not hit a car and wrote down my license plate number.  Seriously, stayed home, refused to open my door.  Six years later, nobody has come a-knockin'.  Turns out, running over a traffic cone and NOT hitting a car doesn't exactly earn you prime time coverage on America's Most Wanted.  Who knew?

So, in my mind, if I were to rant and rave about said neighbor, and since he obviously would end up reading this, he would come knock on my door and punch me in the face.  I have no problem shooting him my dirtiest look over the fence, but I'm not ready for hand to hand combat.  I had a lot of gelato last night and I'm not too quick on my feet today. 

Feel free to ask me all about it though, I love to talk.  Just ask everybody.

Jury Duty

Oh, jury duty.  You bitch.  If you hang out with me on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook you've heard me bitch about having jury duty for the past three days.  Yep, you read that correctly.  THREE DAYS.  I spent the two weeks leading up it listening to everybody tell me I would go in for half a day and then be sent home.  So, I assumed that would be case, so I woke up at seven in the morning on Tuesday, after being up until one in the morning, spent my entire day at the courthouse, went straight to work that night, and then went BACK to the courthouse the next morning, where I spent my entire Wednesday until four in the afternoon.  That's right.  That would be 33 hours awake.
 

That's a whole lot easier in college, my friends.  When you're in your late twenties like me, sleep has to happen.  So, I went directly to sleep when I got home and woke up fourteen hours later, and went BACK to the courthouse.  Yeah, that 'half a day' you assholes kept talking about, turned into three whole days.  Guess I'm lucky?  Whatever.  They finally ended up picking a jury at the end of my third day, and their fourth day overall of deliberating, and I was fortunately not one of the sixteen out of fifty two.

Smell ya later, jury duty! Love, Juror 178

 Because not only did this take up this week, it would have taken up next week as well, and in Tampa, with no phone, internet, or television.  This case was NO JOKE.  What do I mean by no joke?  I mean death penalty.

Annnnnnd cue Tina getting serious for a bit.

I'm not a political person by any means.  And I am extremely indifferent on a lot of issues, which I guess kind of makes me the perfect juror.  Makes sense why they kept me around for so long now.  Before this week, if you were to ask me how I felt about the death penalty, I would have more than likely shrugged my shoulders and said I was maybe more for it than against it but didn't really feel strongly in either direction.  Being asked that same question directly in front of the person you would potentially be sending to their death?  This birdy changed her tune.  How am I supposed to look somebody my age in the eye and say I would have no problem agreeing to ending their life?  We started out the same way.  Somebody's child.  Maybe I was loved more, and cared for more, and given better opportunities and guidance in life.  I was formed to know that murder is not an answer.  Not a way out.  He was not.  Given the right environment, could he have been a totally different person?  Was he given a fair chance at life?  Did he ever have a shot?  Would I have made the same decision if I had been in his shoes his entire life?

The most heart breaking of it all to me, aside from the two officers who lost their lives in this situation?  The last day of deliberation, he decided to wear a tie, and the way he tied it was in such a child like way.  I don't know why that got to me like it did, but it sent me to cry in the bathroom.  It was almost like he just doesn't know any better about life.  That he needed to be taught so much more before somebody sent him into the world to make these horrible decisions he allegedly made.

The closer we got to the jury being selected, I started to realize there was no way I could do this.  I couldn't be a part of something that would end a life, no matter what the circumstances.  I just know what emotional toll that would take on me, and I know that it would never leave me.

Forgive such a 'heavy' post to kick off everybody's favorite day of the week, but this was one of the most important, influential processes I have ever been through, and one I will never forget.

And thanks for reading even when I decide to take life seriously.  Happy weekend, kiddos.