Tag Archives: friends

Road Trip!!

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So…  with tomorrow being Thanksgiving , and the holiday season of traveling to and fro and visiting friends and family is about to begin! It got me to thinking back to about a month and some change ago, when I went home to Atlanta for a quick weekend jaunt, and the BFE and I took Ojeda with us.

 

God bless. It was a hot mess.

 

There’s something about guys – you out them in groups, and they conspire and join forces on the craziest sh!t. We left Orlando really early and I guess the early morning rush combined with their general loopiness to great a cacophony of mayhem and foolishness. Pretty early in I decided to journal all of the stuff that happened on our ride up – otherwise no one would believe it. So here it goes…

 

 

5:41 am – BFE and Ojeda come up with a new product that turns your farts into floral smells. They nominate me as the spokesperson and even come up with a commercial. The slogan: “do it with dignity”.

 

6:04 am – BFE drove and I played with Google Sky Map while the stars were still out. HOW HAVE I NEVER KNOWN ABOUT THIS APP?? So neat!

 

7:21 am – We stop at Mickey D’s. Ojeda argues with the cashier over coffee. Dude keeps asking him “How do you want your coffee?”, and O keeps responding, “with cream and sugar”, only to get a response from cashier dude of  “yes but how do you want it?”I could see O turning red and immediately add this event to our trip report.

They ask for a name for our order and I toy with the idea of giving them the name “Primrose Everdeen” so I could yell “I volunteer as tribute!” I know it’s cliche but I do not care.

 

9:04 am – While driving through Tifton, GA (the Reading Capitol of the World) and BFE gets cut off by a large SUV. We pass the vehicle, curious to look at the driver, and debate whether it was a redneck version of Pat from SNL or Honey Boo-Boos mama. Then BFE and O contest that Tifton, GA could not possibly be the reading capitol of the world. I tell them both to stfu.

 

9:20 am – BFE and O argue that computers have only 3 uses for guys: email, facebook and porn. Apparently girls only use computers for email, facebook and pinterest.

 

9:26 am – Pass an old, run-down farmhouse. Ojeda, my Southern-illiterate friend, asks, “is that a plantation?” I tell him to stfu. He asks if plantations are like haciendas. I tell him again: stfu. BFE giggles.

 

10:14 am – We argued over whether pandas and koalas are bears. Fact: koalas are marsupials and pandas are bears. Also discussed acid rain. For some reason, BFE mimics acid rain with a disco beat. Strange. He drives on in silence.

 

10:24 am – Stop at Pilot plaza outside of Macon for gas and bio break. I see a gas truck there. I point and laugh “Bahaha where do gas trucks get gas?!” No one laughs. Guys begin serious discussion of diesel versus gas, and fuel planes fueling mid-air, etc. I don’t understand how fuel planes are more interesting than my gas truck joke. Boys suck.

 

10:36 am – B asks whether to take 75 N through Macon or 475 around Macon. After much debate we decide to take 75 N. O jokes, “you know whichever route we take it is going to be the wrong one!” Immediately the speed limit drops from 65 to 55. B’s all like, “we should have taken 475!” I think he just said that to be on O’s side. Just sayin.

 

10:41 am – Pass sign that says in all caps “lust drags you to hell”. Ain’t that the truth. Interesting change from all the anti-abortion signs, “truck driver lounge/ massage” advertisements and stripper billboards that you usually see in South GA and North FL.

 

10:51 am – Learned something new today. B and O argue about the origin of mobile homes. B says mobile homes are called such because they are from Mobile, AL. O insists it is because they are mobile. Research on the snopes.com website confirms that D is correct.

 

11:00 am – Ojeda reads myths from snopes.com and we guess whether they’re true or false. We’re obviously running out of material.

 

11:40 am – Traffic slows for accident. Ojeda rolls down window and signals to driver driving Dodge Caravan in next lane to see if we can get over. Driver looks at him and then stares straight ahead, continuing to edge forward with no knowledge of O’s request. String of 4 letter words ensues. Once we pass accident BFE floors it to stream past Dodge Caravan dude while I fist pump in the air. I didn’t see it but suspect that Ojeda flipped him off.

 

12:04 pm – Finally – THANK YOU SWEET BABY JESUS! – we arrive in Atlanta. Ojeda yells “ATL Dirty South B!tches!!!! …Oh mylanta!”  out the window with complete abandon. We check in on Facebook at the Pink Pony South. We have arrived!

The Badass, The Mushroom and The Little Guy

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Sliding into my seat at the Mellow Mushroom tonight, I looked around at my friends Reyes, Love and Bryce and just giggled. I was giddy with the story I needed to tell them, and eventually that giggling turned into full on laughter as I started the story:

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A few days ago while having lunch with my friend Stee she tells me a story about the newest guy in her life… apparently their love was “forbidden”. Well forbidden by company policy at least, and she accidentally spilled the beans to some of her work friends during a drunken night out.

Bear in mind, my friend Stee is one of the most badass people I know – she’s not afraid of anything, speaks her mind without hesitation. She always makes me laugh with the stories she tells about life, boys and work. At our engagement dinner, she had me cackling with her description of how break a guy’s car windshield without getting caught by using a brick tied to a rope. I’ve never asked her how she seems to have first hand knowledge of this particular how-to skill, I just take it all in as part of the Stee Package. The Stee Package is full of unexpected hilarity and by proxy, adventure. So when she starts to tell me a story, I listen, because I know it’s going to be good. There’s also the chance that I’ll learn a new how-to skill. :p

According to her, the gaffe where she blurts out her new dating status came about after her work friends kept talking about the new Moroccan guy, not knowing that they were together… she got irritated after hearing them say over and over:”he’d be so cute if only he were taller”.

I stopped her there. “What do you mean… if he were taller?”

She gave me a funny look. “He’s a little… short.”

“Ok. So? How short?”

“Um… 4’11?”

….?

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I paused in telling my story to my friends at the Mellow Mushroom to gauge their reaction, and just as I thought, they proved why they are my friends. They laughed. Lord help us all, they laughed. Ever since Stee told me this story earlier in the week, I’d been holding in my laughter, knowing that by laughing any more than I already had that I was proving that I was pretty horrible! Granted, I’d already proven I was a horrible person, because of what happened after Stee told me his height:

“I’m sorry, did you say 4’11?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

I began howling like a hyena. “Because that makes him a little person! You’ve been hooking up with a little person! That’s hilarious!” I continued laughing until I cried. gasping for air, tears squeezing out of my eyes.

“Shut up!!! He’s not a little person!” Then she said the immortal words that sent me over the edge: “Stop making fun of my little man!”

The did it for me. I was screaming, knees buckling, laughing all of the air out of my lungs. We were standing in the restaurant parking lot, and I braced myself on the trunk of her car to keep from falling down with convulsions of laughter. It wasn’t his size that made me laugh, it was just the irony of it all. Of course, she would be the one to hook up with a little person from Morocco! To see her indignant look was all too much. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry – I have nothing against… little people. I have the utmost respect for them. It’s just that you were 5 foot 9, and he’s 4 foot 11. How is it that you never told me about this guy??”

“It’s no big thing – it’s not like we’re dating or whatever. I’m getting transferred to another city, so we always knew it was only temporary. I just don’t see the big deal.”

“Ok, ok, fine. I’ll respect your … little relationship… bwahahahahaha!” I just couldn’t help myself. “You’re hooking up with a little person!”

“He’s not that little! He comes up to here”, indicating the base of her nose. “I only have to bend down this far to kiss him… see?” She inclined her head down, as if ducking under a low doorway. It looked like she was trying to break her own neck. I just laughed harder, if that was even possible.

I begged her to let me blog about it. “Don’t make fun of me and my little guy!”

I tittered, “can that be the title of my blog?” She ignored me. I laughed some more.

By this point we’d made our way into the restaurant for lunch, and had taken a seat. I was determined to compose myself and finally pulled it together. We chatted about other topics, and things were back in track until Stee started looking over my shoulder with a funny look, then looking at me, then back over my shoulder. Finally, I look over my shoulder and see… a littler person waiting to be seated with some friends. I looked at Stee, and she burst into laughter. It’s like he’d been placed there, at that moment, in that restaurant just to drive home the point. We are horrible people.

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When elating this story to my friends at the dinner table, I was a little nervous that they would think I was a horrible person, but as I told them the story, they responded as only my friends would: by laughing like howler monkeys. I turned to Reyes, telling her that I’d been worried all week about telling any of my friends, in the event that they would think me a horrible person. Earlier in the week, I’d told the BFE about about it, adding that I planned to blog about it. Being the kind, good-hearted half of me that he is, the BFE cautioned me against it, since some people might be offended. At dinner tonight Reyes reminded me that I’m not friends with any of those people. All of my friends would find it funny.

I explained that I wasn’t sure how to tell the story, as much as I wanted to share it with others. How to relate the details? To give the gist and cadence of our conversation? Telling it as I told my friends at dinner tonight was the only thing that made sense.

I don’t know why but after relating my story to my friends I relaxed and smiled. I think it’s knowing that I have such appalling friends that would laugh at my story really made me feel better. I know – I’m terrible for laughing at my friend’s shenanigans, and there will be some people reading this that will be appalled and offended by my post. All I can say to that group is that at some point, everyone has a moment of political incorrectness, and if they’re lucky, they’ll have friends around to laugh at them and tell them it’s okay.

Two things came out of this: I have exactly the kind of friends I should have, and love & attraction can be found anywhere, even between the badass and the little guy.

…annnnd the company I keep (who also lets me blog about them)

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My friend Ojeda is a regular source of entertainment and hilarity for me. We’ve known each other for about 6 years now, and as much as he drives me nuts he keeps me grounded… and constantly laughing. On a regular basis he says something that makes me stare at him and say “you know when you’re old you’re gonna be the most racist old Cuban man in the retirement home” and “You know can’t tell stories about tampons in public! Out loud!!” and “no, we will not steal Star Wars toys from that five year old” (see previous post).

Me and my Cuban Brotha from Anotha’ Mutha’ (who makes some meat cuban pork)

Being Cuban, he often pulls out these off the cuff statement regarding Cuban culture, and then looks at us all like we’re nuts for looking at him like he’s nuts.

Example from last Sunday:

BFE, Ojeda and two of our fairly normal (heh) friends are strolling around the World Showcase at EPCOT, and stop in the Outpost are to look at the shops. Ojeda spots a collection of beautifully carved elephants.

Ojeda: You know, it’s customary in Cuban households to have an elephant in your house somewhere.

**We are stare blankly**

Ojeda: You know, an elephant statue.

**We continue to stare blankly**

Ojeda: It’s for good luck. But it’s only good luck if the elephant’s ass is facing the front door. That’s the way it works.

***We continue to stare blankly**

Ojeda: Shut up! It’s my culture!!!!!

I love him to bits. He’s like the crazy Cuban brother I never had, because that would be weird and require a lot of explaining. And considering he’s confused Alabama and Georgia before, asking “what’s the difference??” he’s definitely not Southern enough to be my brother. But considering we both have zero filter, there’s a good chance we are still related.

Today’s email between me and Ojeda about plans we all have for tonight. I’ve highlighted the craziest parts in bold red for easier reading.

From: Ojeda
To: Peach
Subject: Tonight’s dinner

I want to let you know there’s a small possibility I may not be able to attend the dinner tonight.  I’ve been having the runs all this morning and still in the afternoon.  I’m also breaking a bit of a sweat and fear I may be coming down with something.

I really want to go, however, because it’s a special dinner and I want to be a part of it.  But in case I feel too sick, I wanted to give you advance notice.

I plan on working late in the office and then heading straight to the hotel.  So it’s best to reach me through email until around 7pm when I’m outside of the office and in cell phone range.

Ojeda

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From: Peach
To: Ojeda
Cc: BFE
Subject: RE: Tonight’s dinner

Oh no friend!!!! This is no good.

I’m sorry you’re sick. Maybe try flushing you system with some water and maybe Gatorade/ powerade? The bad thing about being sick like that is the dehydration that comes with it. It becomes a never-ending cycle because you are losing electrolytes.

I really REALLY hope you can make it but I understand if you cannot be there. Your health is important. If there’s anything you need, please let us know!

–          Peach

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From: Ojeda
To: Peach at Work
Subject: RE: Tonight’s dinner

I’ll definitely keep you posted.  And you’re right about the hydration.  There’s no Gatorade in the office, but I’ve been keeping myself hydrated with a lot of water.  My body, however, is still cramping and I feel the movement to you know where.

Believe me, I want to go…and I expect to.  But just giving you a heads up.  I even wore a collar shirt for today.

Ojeda

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From: Peach at Work
To: Ojeda
Subject: RE: Tonight’s dinner

Things that will help your stomach too – the BRAT diet:

Bananas

Rice

Applesauce

Toast

–          Peach

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From: Ojeda

To: Peach at Work
Subject: RE: Tonight’s dinner

Oh, good thing you told me what it stood for.  I was about to go to the nearest elementary and chew on a spoiled kid.

Ojeda

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From: Peach at Work

To: Ojeda

Subject: RE: Tonight’s dinner

I’m totally blogging this.

–          Peach

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From: Ojeda
To: Peach
Subject: RE: Tonight’s dinner

Thanks…I enjoy being part of the blog 😀

Ojeda

This is the company I keep. I hope this explains my crazy, even if it’s just a little bit. No normal person gets emails about the runs, and no normal friend would send them.

I am grateful for my crazy friends, though. Who else would go along with my insane schemes?

Or let me blog about them?

 

Friendship Status

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Based on my investigations (and wild speculations) I think that a friend of mine has just relegated me to “associate” level of friendship status. Has this ever happened to anyone else?

 

How to know if you’ve been downgraded from friend to “work friend” or “sometime friend” or “associate”:

 

  1. You no longer receive texts outside of Monday – Friday, 9am – 6pm.
  2. Actually …you no longer receive texts at all.
  3. You hardly ever see their posts on Facebook anymore, suggesting that you’re clearance status has been changed.
  4. You invite them to parties, which they decline, but do not say why.
  5. You are no longer invited to events outside of work related stuff. And that includes lunches outside of the break room!
  6. You find yourself no longer really sharing what’s going on in your life, because catching them up from the last time you talked would take too much time.
  7. Most of your communication takes place via email, and usually only when they need something, like a dog sitter or a ride to the airport.
  8. When they ask “did you cut your hair?” you look at them like they’re nuts because a) you cut your hair like, a month ago or b) your hair is exactly the same.
  9. Conversations are mostly weekend discussions, movies and… yeah. That’s pretty much it.

 

 

I’ve been suspecting this for a while, and with the recent decline of my invitation to our engagement party, I think all the pieces are falling into place and it all makes sense now. I’m a work associate. I have been moved from the friend group into the work associate group. Getting booted out of the group stinks. Well at least now I know where I stand.

I don’t know if I’m the only one that ever had to deal with this, but when I was in high school, I had three distinct friend groups:

– School friends

– Church friends

– Work friends

 

Mixing those friend groups was like crossing the red and black wires on a car battery. Or whatever those bad wires were that you were never, EVER allowed to let touch for fear that’s you’d become a science experiment on how tasing can go horribly wrong. While I don’t technically know what would happen, the fear of a massive explosion or epic tasering pretty much stopped it from trying it out. Occasionally I would have one friend from this group, and one or two from that group… and just hold my breath and pray. It’s not that I was different people with each group, it’s just that each group had it’s own distinct personality, and priorities, and taboos. Different jokes, and stories that didn’t make sense outside of those in the know. Telling the “Jessica are you STILL eatin?” or the “who’s your Superman now???” jokes to the wrong groups just simply doesn’t make sense. And then I feel awkward.

 

As an adult, it’s nice to have friends that you can mix and match into different group settings. The ones you can take to a drag show, a house party and a church, and everything’s just fine. The ones that go with the flow, and know how to relax and have a good time outside of the safe confines of their normal group. Kinda like those garanimals outfits that kids wear, and the pants will match with any shirt and the shirt will match any shorts, or skirt, etc, allowing little kids the liberty of putting together the outfit that suits their personality for the day without looking like a rag bag of random clothing. Using the kids’ clothing/ garanimals simile is pretty fitting because only the immature nut bags would cut a fool and make horses’ asses out of themselves while being introduced to other friends while at the aforementioned drag show, house party or church.Those nut bags are the ones that would also shit inside their own garanimals clothing and ruin the whole look of the outfit. And have to change into something else. Something way less cool. Shitting in your clothes sucks and is definitely no cool. And let’s face it, garanimals is pretty fricking cool.

 

 

It’s nice having garanimal friends because you can take them anywhere and know that they’ll have a good time and not offend, get moody, cry, or eat all the snacks/ use all the toilet paper at someone’s house. You know the topics that garanimal friends bring up in mixed company? Disparaging jokes about their mutual friend, weather, tv shows, anything the group can easily find common ground one. You know what topics garanimals DON’T bring up? Abortion, immigration, why you think President Obama is/ isn’t a good president, marriage amendments. Introducing one friend into another group is kinda like introducing different parts of your brain to each other, and hoping that your psyche’s Id doesn’t eat them both during the introductions. Your friends are a reflection of who you are. Why wouldn’t you want to share the best parts of yourself with the people that matter the most to you?

 

So getting back to being downgraded… all I can guess is that I didn’t reflect that part of my “associate’s” best self, that she decided that being my friend works best at arm’s length. Who knows why these shifts happen. Maybe she saw just a bit too much crazy in my one day, or maybe our friendship journey together is just simply drawing to its natural close. It’s a bummer because my crazy is pretty awesome.

Maybe it’s because I’m her nut bag friend that she doesn’t want to introduce to other friend groups, which is a shame. I hear I’m a pretty fun nut bag. Right????

 

 

 

The Sunburnt Peach Gets Engaged

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We are doing it! We’re engaged! Wedding boards on pinterest and baby fever vocalizations be damned! He’s accepted my crazy and we are taking the plunge and this is awesome!!!

 

Wow. That’s a lot of verbal diarrhea right there. But I think it’s affective at getting the points across.

 

So the BBE proposed about 3 weeks ago, and we’re both just as delighted as can be. 🙂 Naturally one of the first things we do after telling our parents and immediate family was to post it on Facebook (ok this is naturally one of the first things I did, not him). Just to prove how much Facebook itself stalks its members within minutes my ads on the side had changed:

 

 

Seriously?? I mean, come on FB. That’s not even subtle anymore.

And speaking of seriously, we really are seriously happy and excited. It’s crazy: sometimes while we’re laughing or talking or watching TV we’ll both just stop and stare at each other, and my heart just melts. I’ve never felt so happy or so blessed. I found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. How lucky am I???? I just hope we don’t make anyone puke when they come in contact with, as Messy Jessy puts it, our “love bubble”.

 

Speaking of Messy Jessy, I’ve already asked her to be my maid of honor!! I’m pretty sure she’s going to rock at this – if it’s even possible, she’s more excited than I am about our wedding! She and my two sisters will stand up with me in a small wedding on an island in the Bahamas. Since she and my two sisters are both skinny bitches, I’ve placed them all on 4,000 calorie a day diets, which they are to follow up until our wedding day in September 2013. Sure, they’ll probably have heart problems, shortness of breath and need to have  their blood pressure taken at the end of the aisle, but at least that ensures I’ll be the cutest, SKINNIEST girl up there!!! Actually Messy has already punched a hole right through that plan, so I’m going with plan B: actually losing weight myself instead of force-feeding my skinnier bridesmaids.

Yes, pinterest boards are being updated daily as we find new ideas that flesh out how we want our wedding experience to happen: http://pinterest.com/reneemynette/. Yeah, at least now I can pin to my 3 wedding boards without him rolling his eyes… much. 🙂

Oh, and by the way… I’m sure my future blogs will have random wedding tidbits but you can get the full scoop on  our wedding and engagement escapades on http://ourbigfatcruiselinewedding.wordpress.com!

Anyhoo… here’s our engagement story, from my POV and the BBE’s. 🙂 That’s right, the BBE gets a guest spot on my blog this week 🙂 Now that we’re engaged, does his name change to Best Fiance Ever? BFE??

 

Ok, now for my Side of the Engagement Story:

“I just remember getting a random text one Saturday afternoon, asking if I wanted to go to watch fireworks the following night. Fireworks being one of my favorite things to do, I naturally said yes! He asked which location was my favorite and insisted on us going there.

So on a balmy Sunday evening, we headed over to EPCOT to watch fireworks, share a funny cake and cuddle. It was shaping up to be a great night. As the fireworks burst overhead, he leaned in… and said…

“You drive me crazy, you know that?”

WHO SAYS THAT??! LOL

Being the polite well-behaved young woman I am, I smiled nicely and said, “thank you” and continued to watch the fireworks from our bench.

He leans in again, and I’m thinking “ok, what doozie is he going to come up with now?” and He says…

“But I love you… very much”

I smiled and started to say I love you! and watched in surprise as he slid down off the bench and onto one knee and popped a ring box out of his pocket. Right there, in the middle of the park, in one of my most favorite places in the world, this man I loved more than anything was asking me the BIG QUESTION. Being the polite well-behaved woman that I am, I shrieked “What are you doing! What are you doing?!?” over and over. I couldn’t even hear his next words.

His eyes just beamed at me, and there was nothing to say but yes. I hugged him tight so that he wouldn’t see my tears – tears of joy.

The only thing I remember thinking next was “dang, if I’d known I was getting a proposal I probably would have worn a cuter dress and washed my hair”. Typical. Just goes to show that sometimes it doesn’t matter.”

🙂

 

And a word from the BFE:

I can’t remember when exactly I decided to propose to her, but I know I’d been thinking of it for a while. My biggest hang-up was not having a ring. Of course I wanted to do it right and have a nice shiny ring to give her, but those things are pricey! Finally I’d saved up enough and decided that the moment had arrived. But first I had to decide which shiny pretty thing to get her. That’s where a couple of her friends come in. I enlisted them as my secret agents to help me pick out her newest piece of jewelry. After a few dozen emails back and forth the decision was made!

Many months ago I somehow managed to get her talking about her ideal wedding proposal. Don’t ask me how, but somehow I did. Turns out she’s got a sweet spot for fireworks. So I decided that I’d give it a go and asked her if she wanted to go see some fireworks at Disney the next night. I wanted to make sure I got the right fireworks so I asked her what her favorite was. Of course it was Epcot, so away we went!

We got ourselves some funnel cake and sat down to enjoy the show. A few minutes in I lean over and tell her “You know, you drive me crazy”. She laughs a little and goes back to the show. I lean over again and say “But I still love you”. At that point I slip off the bench, land on one knee and pull out the little ring box.

The rest is, as they say, history.

 

A Certain Age…

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A close friend of mine recently told me that she got pearls for a Christmas gift from her mother… “you’re getting to a certain age now and should always have a good pair of pearls”…

Are we getting to that certain age? What is the certain age? How do we know when we get there?

Bear in mind I’m only 33 years old, so I probably spend wayyy too much time thinking about my matronly years. I don’t wanna be that cranky old lady that yells at kids to stay out of her begonias. And I worry a lot that when I’m old, come Halloween the kids will put foil-wrapped turds in my mailbox and chase my 18 cats around. I constantly tell my friend Ojeda that he’s gonna be a mean little Cuban man spouting accidentally racist statements at all the caregivers at his elderly home. Surprisingly he doesn’t seem to care as much as I do.

These are some indicators I have noticed as I approach that “certain age”:

  1. The need for iconic pieces of jewelry, i.e. pearls, rings, pendants. Jewelry not found in your local Forever 21 and/ or Charming Charlie’s (pfft. I don’t do this yet, I still shop for accessories in the juniors section of Nordstrom).
  2. More and more suits in the closet and less halter tops (well at least more dress pants! And a few suits. I haven’t given up the halters completely. Don’t worry – all my goodies and fat bits are covered in my tops!!).
  3. Really starting to read ALL of the fine print in every contract, even fi it means the salesperson has to wait until you’re done (Hell yes I do this, ever since I got jacked on my last set of premium tires at Tires Plus. I also check my order at the drive through before driving off.).
  4. Becoming more appreciative of what your health care coverage includes, such as twice yearly dental cleanings, contact lens fittings, etc. This also includes what you can charge to your FSA (Note: FSA cards can be used to buy contact lens solution!! That ish ain’t cheap).
  5. Enthusiastically discussing with friends just how you’re managing your retirement plan and your contribution percentages.
  6. At 4 pm making plans to go out and party that night sounds like a great idea… come 8 o’clock you’ve changed your mind, and stay at home and drink wine instead while watching Restaurant Impossible and nodding off by 11 pm.
  7. Rrrrreally enjoying gardening, and getting excited when you buy a new hydrangea bush (or maybe that’s just a “me” thing. Does anyone else name their flower bushes?).
  8. Debating the merits of fiber supplements (VERY important! Take your fiber people!).
  9. Your main goal after church is over is to get to the Cracker Barrel as quickly as possible in order to “beat the Baptists” (personal goal of mine for years).
  10. Frank discussions from your parents regarding colonoscopies, endoscopies and mammograms because these are all things you’ll need to think about when you near “a certain age”

And finally…

  #11: You utter the dreaded words “I just can’t drink like I used to”

Private Space

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Interesting. I’d like to hear your thoughts on this. Do yall think I went too far?

 

I got a LOT of flack for the post I created last night… so much so, that it’s now password protected.

 

I’ve heard everything from “why say such mean things about people to make yourself feel better” and “why use such vulgar language” to “what if that post re-surfaces and bites you in the butt later when you’re looking for another job, etc”.

 

The last concern was what finally made me decide to password-protect the post. If you want to read it again, just ask me.

 

What I’m struggling with is the guilt that I now feel for expressing myself in my personal space. I see Sunburnt Peach as my place to vent, share thoughts and share stories both hilarious and strange. I don’t like the idea of being constricted by people’s expectations or disappointments in my behavior, and I’m ashamed to say that I fall victim to it all too often.

 

My original intention when creating this blog site in April of last year was to have  a place where I captured all of my “stuff”: the good, bad and ridiculous. It’s been suggested that I could lose friends over what I wrote… I counter that with “if I lose you as a friend over one post, I have to question the friendship.” If you’re my friend, I will do anything I can for you – before you even ask. We would never get to the point of the situations I listed in my blog, because there’s open communication between friends, even ones that don’t talk every day. Furthermore, FRIENDS don’t do use other friends. 

 

I still think it is wrong for people to take advantage of others in thoughtless, self-serving ways. I still plan to say “NO” a lot more often (which will be easier now that I no longer have perks to give out to people). I’m still sick of being nice while people walk all over me because I’m too much of a pansy to stand up for myself. I can be a pushy jerk sometimes, but when my back’s to the wall I will cave. I know other people who do this as well, and I’m sick of watching it happen to them too. It’s unfair that nice people lose so often, because of the crappy people who ruin it for everyone.

 

…and posting what I wrote yesterday doesn’t mean I’m not “nice” either. No one’s perfect, and everyone gets fed up at some point. If you think less of me for what I wrote yesterday, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I offended you, and I’m sorry that one post would make you think so less of me.

 

Not to be arrogant but I am a smart girl. I don’t think that using four-letter words denotes a lack of intellect or vocabulary. In fact, I think that four-letter words are frequently a more apt and succinct way of sharing your emotions with fewer words. Maybe it makes me vulgar… and I’m offended by being called vulgar… but I do my best to pick the time and place that I use any language. I wouldn’t use 8-syllable words around 2nd graders, and I wouldn’t say sh!t while sitting next to an elder in church. I’m not stupid, I’m not new to the world, I just need a place to write down what’s going on in my head.

 

Moving forward, I don’t think I’ll be publishing a post quite as spectacularly full of fireworkds and shock as what I posted last night. But hear this: if you continue to follow me, it’s gonna be quite a ride. I can’t promise every post will be sunshine and puppies and hugs, but they won’t be mean-ness and anger either. They will be… me. So you’ll have to take me as I am 🙂