"Nothin' like a good piece o' ass"

This lazy afternoon, I'm watching one of my very favorite movies, Steel Magnolias. It's a sad movie, but it's somehow happy at the same time. I've loved it since I was little.

Plus, it's full of such great quotes. Aside from the title of the blog, there's "He's such a gentleman. I bet he takes the dishes out o' the sink 'fore he pees in it!" ... "He's so confused he doesn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt." ... and one of my favorites, "I assure you my personal tragedy will not interfere with my ability to do good hair."

But now this movie is tied to great memories, too. In the spring of 2009, shortly after K got home from Iraq, he and I went to visit the town where the movie was filmed. It was only 45 minutes from where K was stationed in Louisiana, and I actually had to drive through it every time I went to visit him.

Heather is a big fan of the movie, too, so she and B came with us. We had so much fun!

The house where Shelby and her family lived is a bed & breakfast now, and of course that's where we stayed. K and I stayed in Shelby's room, and Heather & B were next door in the room that Jackson crawls into through the window on their wedding day.

The Eatenton house, where Shelby lived with her parents and brothers

Heather and me

K, me, Heather, & B

Shelby's room, where K and I stayed

Of course it's all pink -- it's her "signature color"!

A picture from the movie, displayed in the very spot the picture was taken.

IT'S THE PINK BATHTUB!!!! I showered here.

This was in Heather & B's room. This is the window Jackson climbed into on their wedding day. It's even the same curtains!

This is where Shelby tells M'Lynn she's pregnant!!!

Just a fun shot of my animal whisperer husband, making friends with the homeowners' dog.

The back staircase of the house

The kitchen, which looks exactly the same as in the movie. I'm sure the homeowners are aching for a remodel, but I'm glad they haven't touched it.

Heather and I had a blast going through the house and exclaiming, "This is where [insert movie moment here]!!!" We reenacted and quoted our favorite lines in their actual locations.

So much fun!

What a good weekend. :)

Is this length gonna cut it?

Friends, I need your help. Badly.

I have been growing out my hair since October of 2009. It started on accident. I'd gotten a fantastic haircut, and by January, I couldn't believe how long my hair had gotten. I decided to keep going and donate it. It would take no time at all!

Only my hair decided to stop growing as quickly, and along the way I tried to get a couple basic maintenance trims that turned into full-on haircuts, thanks to overzealous stylists who didn't pay attention to my "half-inch or inch at the most. I'm growing it to donate it" instructions. Those set me back a few months, and it happened twice. Yuck.

So now here I am, seventeen months later, ridiculously ready to hack off my hair. For months I've been getting more and more anxious to see it all go. It's in my way; it's in K's way. I'm ready to get to put layers back in it. I'm ready for my hair to be my hair.

I mentioned this to a coworker a couple weeks ago, so she decided to measure it for me. She told me it's 10" long at the middle of my back from my shoulders, and it's 8" on the sides, with the (grown out) layers that frame my face. I only need 8" for the Beautiful Lengths donation I intend to make. Suh-weet!

I excitedly scheduled my appointment last week. I'm supposed to go in this Saturday.

Only now I'm getting cold feet.

I had K remeasure my hair just in case. Nine inches from the bottom of my curly hair is right at my shoulders. That could be bad. If my hair gets cut above my shoulders, it becomes horizontal. I'll have to straighten it, which is a huge pain, until it grows out.

But what if I'm so nervous about having my hair long enough after the cut that I don't let them cut enough, and it all just has to get thrown out because it's unusable? What a waste!

What if the layers I told the stylists to ignore (and they didn't) make the majority of my hair unusable?

(And what if the hair gets lost in the mail before it gets to the company? Agh!)

Let me give you a visual here.

I will donate to Beautiful Lengths, which requires an 8" donation. I figure I'll give them 9", just to be sure they have enough. (Also, for those of you who clicked the link from my last major haircut, for the record, I do own other shirts than this one.)

That rubber band -- where my hair will be cut -- is dangerously close to my shoulders. Like potentially ugly close to my shoulders. Since my hair is curly, it will likely kink up and be above them. 

My options: 

• Cancel the appointment and reschedule for a later date (May, maybe?). 
• Cancel the appointment, immediately begin taking prenatal vitamins for the next 4 weeks. Then switch back to my vitapaks so those aren't wasted ... and when those are finished, resume the prenatals, since we planned on having me start those anyway.
• Go to the appointment, hack off my hair, and straighten it for a few weeks -- potentially with some prenatals in the mix -- until the awkward stage is over. Enjoy the warm fuzzy feeling that goes with knowing there's a little girl out there who won't have to worry about how she'll look when her illness takes her hair because of my donation and Beautiful Lengths.
• Go to the appointment and donate my straightened hair. That means less taken while still meeting the requirements, and I'll still have more left after the donation. Hopefully everyone wins. I may or may not have to use the straightener and prenatal post-haircut option. But I'll still get the warm fuzzy feeling.

My hair has been close to shoulder-length before. Maybe it'll look OK.

Either way, please feel free to weigh in. Either way, I am donating. It's just a matter of when (and how I deal with it post-cut).

With something as important as hair, I feel like I just can't make this decision on my own!

Looking for advice

Jewelry Storage

I've been expanding my jewelry collection over the last couple years, thanks first to H&M and now to friends having jewelry parties (gotta show my support!). My jewelry box just isn't going to cut it anymore. 

I've seen those cute little frames with the wires on them, but those only hold so much. And there are these, which are charming, but I'd like my storage system to not cost too much more than I'd spend on the jewelry it'll hold. 

I'm contemplating something like this, but I thought I'd check with you guys first. What do you do?

Dealing with Gum

I hate gum popping. Hate. It. 

I think it stems from my childhood. My mom is one of the worst offenders in the world. One of her favorite times to chew gum? In the car. So picture me, my poor brother, and my dad, stuck in a car for hours with my mom pop, pop, popping away.

Torture. 

I finally learned to make a game out of it, so that's what my brother and I did. We'd count each and every gum pop. Sometimes, it got hard to count that high. But it turned the popping into something funny, and we'd be laughing and shaking our heads over the fact my mom had just popped her gum more than 120 times in 5 minutes.  

She didn't realize she was doing it. But she'd hear us laughing miserably, ask why, and then laugh herself, embarrassed, when we told her how bad it was. Right before she started popping again a few minutes later. It was a habit.

So gum popping is (and always has been) one thing I just can't tune out. I can put in headphones and crank 'em up, and that works depending on how far the offender is from me. 

But I have a coworker who really loves popping gum. I usually put in headphones, but sometimes music is distracting too. And I feel like I shouldn't have to put in headphones every other day so this lady can do something distracting in an office place.

This is a question I've wondered many, many times. I've even found myself at a Broadway show sitting in front of an offender who popped through the show. I seriously think these punkwads follow me around.  

So what do you think: 

Is there a polite way to ask a person to stop popping their gum?

Glam time. It's on!

K and I head out this afternoon to glorious Tejas. As I was packing for the trip last night, I kept reaching for dressier shirts and fun necklaces and bracelets and bangles.

I never wear fun necklaces and bangles. Pretty much just when I'm really going out, which hardly happens.

And then I realized what I was doing. See, girls in the VA Beach area just don't dress up. I miss getting to go out with the girls in OK & TX. It meant wearing really cute (or really hot) dresses, heels and dangly earrings. It meant getting dolled up and fixing your hair and having one of the girls do fun eye shadow for everyone. It meant freezing your ass off on the way to wherever we were going, but feeling so good about looking damn good that you really don't care about the cold (in short increments).

It meant laughing over drinks and having so much fun just being silly and being girls.

The last time I did that -- a really good girls' night -- was July 2010. At ER's bachelorette party. Pathetic.

But this weekend? We're staying with Heather & B, and I am SO excited! Just to get to hang out with one of my closest girlfriends and be silly girls.

I may find myself a bit over-accessorized for the majority of the weekend, but -- wait, who are we kidding?! I'll be in Dallas.

Where there's no such thing as over-accessorized or too girly.

I!! can't!! wait!!!!

It's all in the perspective

I'm having a bit of blog envy right now. Strangely enough, it all started on FB. I read a comment someone posted on a friend's (OK, an ex-bf's) wall, and it led me to Google, which led me to a blog. The blog was my ex's high school girlfriend. I remember his stories about her. She seemed kind of fascinating. Her blog totally proved that she is.

She's lived in Texas and in England, both to write greeting cards (how cool is that?!). She's witty and seems to be so full of life. And she's a talented photographer. She is now living in Miami studying photography. (I would kill to study photography.)

A few weeks ago, one of my very favorite bloggers, GFF, posted about Blog Envy. I'm sure it's something we've all felt. Someone else seems so much freer, so much cooler, so much smarter, more talented, funnier ... Well, Miss TX/England/Miami (much like GFF, actually) seems all of those things to me. So much that I even overlooked a comment in one of her posts that mocked my beloved Oklahoma (something about actually using the words "cool" and "Oklahoma" in the same sentence).

It's definitely my fault for neglecting this blog like I have. Some days I feel too busy to get down all I need to (part of that is due to the fact I don't really tell short stories), and sometimes I feel like I wouldn't have anything nice to say, so why bother to begin with (which is why I didn't write a marathon post immediately after the run).

Miss TEM, with all her world travel and amazing photos of places I may never see, seems so much wiser and worldly. I'm definitely not worldly.

I started to feel a little down on myself ... and then I started thinking.

I'm a pretty patriotic person. I've always been that way, but it's increased more and more over the years, starting first with my love of the Fourth of July and our family reunions, then the report I did in the fourth grade on Molly Pitcher, building with my high school experience at Girls State, and rocketing to the next galaxy once I fell in love with an Army guy.

And obviously I love Oklahoma. I am so proud to be from there, and I am so proud of the reputation we Okies have as being such great, friendly people. You can talk to anyone in Oklahoma, whether you know them or not. I've had some surprising and great conversations that way. (It's taken me a long time to realize people in most other places don't do that. Not that it's stopped me from trying!)

Oftentimes people somehow know I'm from that area (and this was even before I got my necklace). It happened with a kickballer on another team (he actually wanted to guess I was from Nebraska, "or one of those nearby states," he said. For a guy born & raised in VA, he got pretty dang close!). It happened to me once when I met a new coworker in Dallas. (I asked if it was because I exuded awesomeness.)

I've had people marvel at my knowledge of state facts (doesn't everyone know their state bird, state tree, state flower, etc.?). Sometimes I actually even remind myself of the dad in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, with his ability to tie everything back to Greek culture (obviously for me it would be Oklahoma). What most people don't know is that it was leaving Oklahoma that made me love it so much. Absence definitely made my heart grow fonder.

Here in VA, I've heard comments like, "You're so from Oklahoma!" (I took that as a great compliment) and "How big is the town you're from?"(For the record, 18,000. Pretty decent size for Oklahoma.)

I may not be worldly. I might enjoy using the word "y'all" a bit too much. I will never quit trying to start up conversations with strangers at the grocery store.*

I am the all-American girl next door. A small-town Okie. A meat & potatoes girl. A butcher's daughter. A NASCAR sister. An Army wife.

My world may be smaller, but it's the perfect size for me.

*For the record, I'm not the crazy lady who mumbles to herself. I'm a fan of talking to people in similar situations. Real-life example: Scanning an aisle at the store, noticing a woman next to me doing the same. "I swear, they're out of everything today!" (No, this woman did not respond. This happened in my first few weeks of moving to Dallas. She stared straight ahead, unmoving, as though I didn't exist. I really wanted to cry.)

A gift ... or a test?

When I discovered the amazing gift from God that is Ou!dad hair products, I blogged about it. Booked an appointment for a haircut. Blogged about it.

I told friends about it. I became a fan on Facebook.

A year later, I'm still hooked. I've had another Ou!dad cut since then, and I've ordered liters of shampoo and conditioner over the last 12 months.

A few weeks ago, I went to order a couple more liters and some bottles of my favorite finishing gel to take advantage of a free shipping offer. Somehow, they were out of stock of my gel, but I went ahead and ordered the liters, since they're the bulk of the weight of my shipment anyway. I checked the website regularly, and when the gel was back in stock, I ordered it -- two bottles even, since it was the same price for shipping and I know I'll use it.

Imagine my surprise when I received a shipment containing four bottles of gel! I checked the statement, and sure enough, I had been charged only for two. 

I called Ou!dad's customer service, but evidently they were closed. I had explained my story to the girl who answered the phone, but she said she could only help me with placing an order. This was last week.

So today, I went to call Ou!dad on my lunch break. But I couldn't help but wonder: Am I the world's biggest idiot?

Am I trying to pass up a Gift From the Curly Hair Goddesses? Will I get bad karma for not calling customer service (again) -- or is this a gift of good karma all together? (I mean, I have called the cops twice in the last month to report large items in the road in hopes of preventing an accident.)

Do I call and let Ou!dad Customer Service be the one to tell me it's OK to stay mum?


Am I part of one of those hidden-camera tests to see if people are decent and honest enough to report such an error? (You guys would tell me if I was a test subject, right?)

Is it reparations for the terrible teasing and torture I endured in the 8th grade because of my curly hair?

Decisions, decisions ... If only I didn't believe in karma.

What would you do?

Since odds are good we won't find ourselves at the same Halloween party

An actual email I just sent to K.

Subject:
*gasp* We have 1 month and 10 days ...

Body: 
... to come up with a kick-ass Halloween costume.

What do we want to be?

• Paris Hilton and a bag of cocaine?
• Julius Caesar and a salad? ('cause together, we'd be a CAESAR SALAD!)
• Pizza & beer, because they're everyone's favorite and they go perfectly together? (Like US?!)

My vote is something more punny and funny than romantic and gag-inducing.

I also don't want it to be an obvious combo ... so I guess that eliminates Paris and the cocaine.

Damn.

Real men love football

I'm so excited it's finally football season again. Maybe that's part of the reason it suddenly feels so much like fall.

One thing about life in Oklahoma and texas is that football is huge. Guys love it. Girls love it. That's it. It's inspirational.

Here in VA, they have other sports. Hockey. ... ... I'm sure there's something else, but the point is, you can take the girl out of Oklahoma, but you can't take the Oklahoma out of the girl. My awareness that hockey exists here is solely due to my confusion that people can get wrapped up in any other sport than football (and sometimes NASCAR -- hey, my brother works for them. don't judge). I mean, we have basketball and baseball in OK, but we still know the big show starts in September (and sometimes, when we're very very lucky, late August).

In OK & tx, I always had plenty of people to talk to about college football. I never really had to even seek people out. But in VA? Not so much. And I definitely haven't found a girl here who likes The Greatest Sport Ever Invented.

I first realized the gravity of the situation when the whole conference realignment was going on. The rumor that my beloved Sooners would become part of the PAC-10 was at its highest point. I was stressed. I didn't like the uncertainty.

I tried to talk about it to a coworker, Matt. "Do you follow college football?"

"No. Why?"

I ignored that first part. Since he's male, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I started going into the conference realignment. I had only been talking about 5 seconds when he interrupted me.

"Did you ever watch Charlie Brown?"

"Huh? No." I was confused why he'd be changing the subject from football to kids' cartoons.

Matt went on to tell me about the teacher, and how whenever she talks, all the kids hear is, "Woh woh wohwoh woh woh ..." (I had seen enough Charlie Brown to know that.) "That's what you sound like to me right now," he said.

I looked at him in amazement. And for the next 10 seconds (until my mind was back on the realignment), I wondered how on earth his wife is able to think of him as a man.

How Mc Donald's cost me $100

I rarely leave the office for lunch. I've been that way in every job I've ever held. It's just cheaper and easier to bring a nice little Le@n Cu!sine to eat at my desk, so that's the route I've always gone.

Today, though, I decided to go out. Heck, I ran 13.1 miles Sunday (more on that later), and if I'm craving McDonald's, I'm going. I earned it!

I considered getting my lunch and eating it at a park nearby, but when I was walking to my car, I realized it might still be too hot to do that. I opted to head to the mall instead to return a tunic I'd been meaning to take back. Being productive and still getting my crap food fix at the same time? Score!

As I headed in the direction of the mall, I passed under a tree-lined street. A gust of wind made the leaves rain down over the road. I smiled. I had football on my TV last weekend, and now this? Fall feels just around the corner!

When I got to Banana Republic, it seemed I wasn't the only person who'd come up with the lunchtime productivity idea. Since the line was really long and there was only one cashier, I decided the best use of my time would be to look around the store.

Turns out Banana had been bitten by the Autumn Bug too.

Unfortunately, a trip to the dressing room only solidified my desire for a pair of brown corduroy pants (they actually had them in long!!! do you know how hard that is to find in corduroy?!) and two adorable, stylish fall shirts.

Aren't they so retro-modern chic?! You know how much I love yellow, and the other shirt has that great faux tie thing going on. And the updated houndstooth? Who could pass that up?! sigh  You win, Banana. You win.

I bought them all. I told myself it was a reward for finishing the half-marathon. And considering the pants were on sale (that was a fun surprise!), my total was under $100 (so what if that included the refund from the tunic I returned!). That wasn't even $1 for every minute I ran on Sunday.

On my way back to the office, I still swung through McDonald's. It was fantastic, but not quite as exciting as my Banana find.

As fantastic as today's lunch break was, it served as a great reminder of why I don't leave my desk for lunch. Looks like Le@n Cu!sines for me for the next several weeks.

Especially after I run my full marathon in November!

27

Today's my 27th birthday, and so far, it's been a pretty good day.

Instead of getting up to run 3 miles for our marathon training, K left the decision up to me before immediately cuddling up next to me. I'm pretty sure he was just looking to get out of the run without being the one to take the blame. I was happy to oblige.

I woke up feeling nice and rested, and I was in a great mood. K slipped a small box by me while I was getting ready this morning. I was immediately in love with what was inside.

I had already decided to wear a new shirt I'd been wanting to wear for a while now. I really wanted to wear the necklace, but it wasn't the best fit for the ruffly shirt. In fact, with the ruffles and the shiny chain, it almost looked Guido-ish.

Should I change shirts? But I wanted to wear this one. It's the perfect birthday shirt--bright and fun and cute, all at the same time.

But I didn't want to wait to wear the necklace either.

My solution: It's my birthday. I'm wearing them both! And there's not a damn thing anybody can say about it.

Man, I love kickball

These pictures perfectly capture the mood of the game for both our team and theirs (Note: Our team is in the grayish jerseys [both girls here]; their team is in white [both guys here]).

Wanna know why my shirt is off -- and why I'm so damn excited about it?

Don't worry. I won't leave you hangin' too long.

Before you worry that we were rubbing a big lead in their faces, they were the ones winning. (Doesn't it look opposite?)

Holy crap, I'M playing an organized sport!

I've never been an athletic person. Sure, I run and even cycle from time to time, but I always go for distance rather than speed. I lift weights at the gym, but that's not quite the same.

When it comes to playing sports, I'm as awkward, clumsy and useless as they come. I wasn't the kid who got picked last in gym class (we had some REALLY unathletic people in my class), but I was almost always in the last few picked. My only attempt at organized sports was in the 6th grade, when I tried softball. I managed to break and jam my finger catching a grounder during a scrimmage, so my mom made me quit so I wouldn't ruin my "music career" (I took piano lessons and was in my first year of band).

I hated playing sports. It was nerve wracking, and I felt like the Spotlight of Suckage was on me the entire time. When I was at OU, the ultimate frisbee team actually tried to recruit me, but I steered clear (They only wanted me for my hair anyway. I'm pretty sure it was a prerequisite to have long, curly hair to be on the team.)

So imagine how unlikely it would be for me to try a team sport. My new friend (still need a name for her!) plays on a kickball team along with a couple of her other friends I've met. They invited K and I to join their team.

We did. Our first practice was Wednesday night.

As soon as we got to the practice field, that old gym class feeling swept over me again:
Oh God, what am I doing? Why did I sign up for this? This is a terrible idea. I'm going to suck, and everyone's going to know. I'm never going to get on base. I'm going to look like an idiot. I hope they don't put me on the field; I'll never catch that ball. And if I have to throw it? WHY AM I HERE?!!!


I tried to calm my nerves with a little self-deprecating humor as I talked to K. He kept giving me weird looks; he hadn't seen this side of me before. (The only "sports" we've attempted together are a goofy bowling game and miniature golf once with just the two of us. I'm fine making an ass of myself with him. It's the strangers I'm worried about. And yes, I know that doesn't make sense.)

Eventually, I had to take my turn to kick. We were supposed to bunt the ball. Not that I had any clue how to do that. When the pitcher released the ball in my direction, the world turned over to torturous slow-motion. I connected my toes to the ball, and it went straight into the air. The catcher ran forward and waited for it to fall straight into his arms.

Yup, sure enough, I suck. Faaaantastic. Bet the coach is happy he made room for me on the team now.


I took my place at the end of the batting line. My next kick went the same way, only this time, the shortstop caught it (yay for going farther?). K gave me a few tips. On my next bunting attempt, I actually made it to first base! After three more people kicked, I made it safely home (barely!).

When it was my turn to try a field position, the coach sent me to second base. I stayed there for a few plays -- thankfully none that involved work on my part. The coach told me to move to third base. I took my position and continued praying quietly that no plays would come my way. Of course that couldn't happen.

We had a player on first and second base when someone else went up to kick. The pitcher recovered the ball. "Throw to third!" the coach yelled.

Oh God! 

It was slow-motion again.

Please catch it, please catch it, pleasecatchit pleasecatchit pleasecatchit!!!

I took a deep breath, winced, and awkwardly stretched my arms in front of me. The ball sank right into them.

"YES!" I squealed involuntarily.

My teammates laughed. K cheered for me from the batter's box.

A few plays later, someone kicked the ball into the air right toward me. The pressure was on again, and I somehow managed to catch the ball.

Oh my gosh! Maybe I don't suck royally at this game!

Of course, I did manage after those two feats to miss a throw that would've allowed me to take a runner out. Like the song says, though, two out of three ain't bad.

The coach told K I was doing well at third, so they're going to keep me there. I'm happy with that decision! It's a nice position that sees a little action from time to time, but it's not too much pressure. (K, on the other hand, is a rockstar who will be playing catcher. He can handle the job and the pressure.)

Our first game is next week!

Why didn't you guys tell me about this?!

Blogger friends, I have an announcement: I have discovered bobby pins.

They're fantastic. I've really started experimenting with them over the past few weeks. Last night when I discovered yet another I-don't-have-to-worry-about-shitty-hair-in-pictures hairstyle thanks to those tiny pieces of metal magic, I wondered: How did I not know about these before?

I've had a similar awakening with eye shadow. I don't do anything fancy, but where I used to be convinced I looked like a clown if I ever put it on myself (it was usually fine if someone else did it), I've finally come around. All it took was seeing a friend's subtle, neutral lids to get me to find a look myself.

So many of my girlfriends are great with this kind of thing. One of them even has the nickname "Queen of Parts" because she can change your entire look by just giving you a new part to your hair. Several are great at eye shadow, and a few less are great at hair, but still. I've always wondered how they managed to learn these things or just come up with such crazy, awesome hairstyles.

I mean, I'm girly. I always have been. I was never a tomboy. How did I miss out on the invitations to the Learn How to Apply Makeup and Cool Ways to Fix Your Hair classes? (Do they have those, by the way?)

But last night, I finally realized how it had happened. It all came together as I replayed my friends' answers to my, "How do you know how to do this?!" question: "I just played with it."

Really? That's it? And why didn't I do that?

See, last night, though, I remembered: I did.

There was the time I was admiring Stephanie Tanner's (I loved Full House. Who didn't?!) adorable half-pigtails. I wanted to recreate the look, so I tried it. My mom's response: "It looks like you have tumors growing out of your head."

There was the time I saw someone with a side part and thought it looked really pretty. I pulled out a comb, and I carefully parted my hair on the side of my head. I don't remember my mom's exact words, but her face said it all: It looked horrible. (She could've suggested I go for a little less dramatic side part by moving the part just a bit closer to the middle of my head.)

Anytime I tried some sort of clip or bow or other sort of fun twist with my hair, my mom said it looked like there was a tumor growing out of my head. And the one time I tried playing with her makeup, I got in big trouble. Granted, it was Merle Norman, which was evidently expensive, but I never touched her makeup again after that.

So instead, I'm left at age 26 discovering what most of the girly girls in the world discovered at least 10 years ago.

I'm a little behind, but it's nice to finally be here. I have a feeling there are going to be a lot more "keeper" pictures in my future!

Not quite the type of outfit I expected to buy, but I was just as excited about it

Today was a great day for me. H&M, which I discovered and fell in love with after we moved to VA, opened a new store closer to us. Today was the grand opening.

Before, I had to make a pretty decent drive to visit my favorite store (which was probably good for our bank account). After lunch today, I found myself near the new store. I originally wasn't going to go, but the temptation proved to be too great. Especially when I drove by and saw the place wasn't as crazy-busy as I thought it might be.

As soon as I entered the door, I saw it: An adorable dress. Perfect for warm weather. Cheerful. My favorite color was all over it. I was in love with this dress.

Since ER told me she was pregnant, I have resisted the urge to buy something for the baby. It's her first child, and if I'm this excited about choosing gifts for the baby, obviously it's even more exciting for her and her husband. No, I've told myself, I'll let them register, and I'll get something then.

Since ER called me to tell me that little Nacho (what they called their baby, since ER's husband is Mexican) is in fact a nachette, it's been even harder to resist, but I've done it.

With this dress, though, I gave in. What was I supposed to do, when it comes with an adorable matching hat and a price tag of less than $10?! (LESS THAN $10!!!)

Did I mention ER's favorite color is yellow too?

See? Totally meant to be. And totally in the mail on its way to surprise ER.

Job interviews: Like first dates, but with a little more on the line

My face-to-face interview was yesterday morning. This means I spent the weekend and Monday putting way too much thought into stupid things.

What should I wear? Do I need to bring writing samples with me, even though they didn't ask for them? Will this shirt be too feminine? Is it bad to wear sleeveless?

I had painted my nails purple over the weekend. They were nicely done, with no chips or anything, but I worried that they wouldn't be right for the interview.

It's funny how clothes that are just fine for work can be all wrong for an interview. I wanted something with color, but not too much. Something bright, but not crazy bright, and no stupid power colors. I chose black pants -- my older pair, rather than the newer pair that fits more snugly -- a bright blue sleeveless shirt, and a light gray cardigan. Enough color, but not overpowering. I chose basic black pumps and simple earrings. And even though K assured me the interviewers wouldn't judge me for my nail polish, I painted over it.

The interview went well. It lasted about an hour. I think the position is something I'd really like. It would be interesting, and I'd get to work with a team. I'm worried about switching gears to writing, since I've been editing for the last 4+ years, but I think I could do it.

The director told me they're interviewing a couple more people, but I'm a strong candidate. They asked if they made a decision this week, would I be able to start next week? (Of course! I did tell them I'll be gone for a week at the end of the month.)

Yesterday afternoon, they emailed me for references. They sent me a writing test. The ironic part? They wanted me to write headlines. I hate writing headlines! It was my least favorite part of my first job in Dallas (and it was a huge part of my job). It's actually what I have most trouble with in blogging.

They told me not to spend too much time on the headlines. I did, but I told them I didn't. In the end, I'm happy with one of them, and I think the other is kind of dumb. I was just ready to be done, though, so I sent them in.

We'll see what they think. I do tend to be my absolute worst critic when it comes to things like writing headlines. And what's even more annoying is that they're so damn subjective anyway.

If they offer me the job, fantastic. It'll be nice to have income and an actual purpose to my day (other than cleaning the house over and over and going grocery shopping). I'll get out of the house and meet people. I'll use my degree.

If not, then maybe some of the other resumes I've submitted will amount to something. After all, this job would be a 30-minute commute. It's a little longer than I'd like, but I'm willing to do it.

And if none of the resumes amount to anything, well, at least it's warming up. It'll be a lot more fun to be unproductive on the beach than it is to be unproductive in our living room. No matter what happens, at least I'm done worrying about how my nail polish will affect my future.

I almost want to have a baby now

I was looking around at cute OU baby clothes since I'm going to be a semi-aunt when I found these:

They're about the most adorable things I've ever seen (although I suspect they might fall to 2nd & 3rd when Baby Girl arrives in July).

Oh, someday ... Someday K and I will have a daughter (I hope!), and she will definitely have these in her wardrobe.

A photoshoot with Piper!

Sunday night after we put up our Christmas tree, I couldn't sleep well at all. I was stuck in that phase between sleep and awake, and for some reason I was really worried that our tree would topple over. How could a tiny stand with three stupid screws hold an 8-(plus-)foot tree up? As if that wasn't enough, we added lights. And tinsel. And decorations. We made it heavier. Idiots! Of course it's going to fall.

And if it didn't fall, it would catch on fire. I actually considered waking K to see if he thought the tree might catch fire. (What is it lately with all these weird dreams?!) Thank goodness, my fear vanished when I woke up Monday morning to a still-erect tree (*insert juvenile laughter) that showed no signs of having been on fire during the night.

On Monday, I put a picture of our tree on my computer desktop at work. I find myself minimizing all my open windows periodically so I can just look at it. It makes me happy.

Tonight K and I (and Piper!) did a quick photo session in front of the tree with my fabulous camera and the self-timer button. I managed to catch some fun pictures of Piper too.

I told K we'd have to put this last one in a frame for his dad, who adores Piper. (He's dog-sitting for us for New Year's. He's threatened to not give her back when he's done.)

I can't say I blame him.

Ooooh, I want these

Why do they have to be $400?!

Can you put a price tag on perfect hair?

I'm all back from OK and Texas! It seemed like a pretty fast trip, what with all we crammed in there. It's good to be back home and to have Piper again. K and I both felt guilty having to board her this many weekends in a row, but we really didn't have a choice.

We're home for less than a week, but this next one is our last trip (yayayay!). K has to go up to New York for something next week. He has to report on Sunday, and we'll be there through Thursday. He gets Friday off (since he reports on Sunday), so we can make our way back to VA slowly, stopping to see some friends along the way.

We're driving this trip. Not sure when we'll leave yet. The Sooners play our biggest rival this Saturday at noon, and I've told K that I cannot, cannot, cannot miss this game. He says he understands. Anyway, so we may stretch the drive up over a day or two. We'll see.

What I'm most excited about is a little selfish and might not happen. I have to talk to K about it first.

Since moving to VA, my hair has decided to enter a whole new level of suckiness. I don't know if my last haircut was just bad, or what, but I just don't know what to do with this mop. When I fix it, it looks great for an hour or two, then poof! Beware of the Friz Monster! It's in a ponytail 99% of the time now. Kinda sad.

I was watching TV a couple weeks ago when I stumbled upon curly hair makeovers by Ouidad. I did research. I looked at their website. I am convinced that their (really expensive) products will be the miracle my hair needs. And on top of that, they have salons where you can have your hair cut to be the best it can be for your curls and your face.

Guess where the flagship salon is? New York, NY. Which is juuuust where I'll happen to find myself next week. Only the haircut? Is over $100.

The appointment begins with a consultation where the stylist discusses with the customer his or her likes or dislikes, problems, etc with the curls. The stylist comes up with The Best Personalized Cut Ever and perfects the customer's hair. Then, the stylist gives a tutorial explaining to the customer how he or she can continue such amazing looks on his or her own with proper care and styling (and products).

I just know that if I get my hair cut there, I'll spend the rest of the trip brushing off people asking to take pictures with me because they KNOW I'm that girl from the hair commercial, or because they HAVE to know who does my hair.

The haircut is so expensive, but you get so much with it. Plus (plus!), it's the salon's birthday, so you get a small bottle of deep conditioning treatment with each appointment. Score! And I just happen to know that the salon has availability this week.

Maybe I can talk K into an early Christmas present ...

We're keeping it!

After a couple days of getting used to it, K and I both feel a lot better about our bedroom set. Your comments and suggestions definitely helped me feel better that first night we got it. I guess I have a tendency to panic if things don't look exactly how I thought they would. (See: guest bedroom) Since I'm pretty new to this whole house decorating thing, I tend to doubt myself pretty easily.

I was able to do some decorating in our bedroom yesterday, which definitely helped the look of things. We still have boxes around the room, since we haven't moved into our dresser yet. I guess we figure we've been living out of boxes and 3-drawer Tupperware "dressers" for 3 months. What's a few more days?

The style of our bedroom set and the decorations I put up give the room a more romantic, elegant feel than the rest of the house. I like it that way. It makes it feel (to me, anyway) more like a romantic retreat.

I have one other idea in mind that will only increase the glam factor. I'm a little nervous about the execution, but it just might work. I can only hope this finished product looks even half as good as it does in my head. Either way, you can bet I'll post pictures as soon as it's done!