Queen's Birthday

My older sister goes by Queen.  It's more a title than a nickname. Her kingdom is populous and she rules with the poise and authority only natural born leaders possess. She's a loving Queen who won't hesitate to smite you if required. I love, respect, admire and fear her in equal proportion. 

For her birthday this year, we gave Queen a proper royal celebration. There was a formally informal dinner, the finest of store bought ice cream cake, the gift of fake breast enhancement and then there was dancing. Lots of dancing.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, my sisters and I tried to take a picture together. Well, more than just a picture. We wanted to all like the picture. And when I say "all", I mean Knobby.

Knobby is my younger sister. Knobby cares very much about hair structure, single chin presentation, shoulder angle, and the reflective properties of skin. She had the final approval of the "hey look, we're sisters" picture. 

We started in the dining room.

Then Knobby decided the lighting was bad. So we moved to the kitchen.

... So. No "approved" picture. But I think we ended up with something much better. 

Happy Birthday Queen.



Spring Cleaning.

Manda requested I start posting again. She's cute when she's bossy and I like to please her, so here is my one post before I abandon the blog again until she notices.

It's been roughly 2.5 years since I last posted. I'm not even going to try and summarize that amount of life.

My chosen topic: I get teased a lot for  "being build like a dude". It's never offensive and always funny because of the joke's origin.

A few years back I was buying my first real-legit-expensive mountain bike. I was pretty excited about this whole bicycle thing. I'd researched different brands and frame geometries. Since at the time, I was really convinced I was a girl, I asked about women specific designs at my local bike shop.

Me: "Do you guys carry WSD bikes?"

The sales guy Rob pauses and looks at me.

Rob: "Are you looking for you?"

Me: "Yes."

He proceeds to size me up.

Rob: "Well, you're kind of built like a guy, so I wouldn't recommend them for you."

Me: "...."

Rob: "...."

Me: "Was that a line backer in a dress comment?" (I'm laughing)

Rob: "No! It's just you have a long torso and the seat-to-handle-bar ratio is shorter on WSD bikes..."

Of course, I told my brother this story and he hasn't let it go since. Over the years, the joke has morphed into the fact that I have "broad shoulders" for a girl. My boss even brings it up on conference calls. "Just give the task to Lindsay. She's got broad shoulders, she can handle the additional burden."

See you in a few years!

Peace Out.
:o)

Setbacks.

Round trip, the bike ride for our kickball game was 20 miles. With four miles remaining, we were almost home and mentally prepared to strip out of our cycling gear and enjoy a cool shower --  It was July in Phoenix and we'd just rode 16 miles + played an entire kick ball game. We were hot and stinky.

With the sun setting, we hopped onto the sidewalk to avoid blind spots in the upcoming road. And I really hate riding a road bike on a sidewalks. You feel every seam, crack, and dip in the sidewalk's surface. But i hate blind spots in road at dusk more. 

With me leading the way, we hit 15 mph as we finished climbing a hill. We were not prepared for the sidewalk to suddenly end with a five or six inch sheer drop down to jagged, unfinished asphalt.

How did I miss something so large? 1. It was dusk. 2. We were cresting a hill so our visibility was limited. 3. We weren't prepared to ride in the dark and had no lights for our bikes. (Our kick ball game had been delayed and finished ninety minutes later than we planned.) 4. The street lights in that section of the street were not working. 5. This was our first time riding this route.

I saw the drop at the very last second and tried to stop. Manda tried to stop. Her forward momentum became my forward momentum as she collided with the back of my bike.

The only part of my body I remember hitting the asphalt was my hip. The next memory was confusion about being splayed out in the street with my bike on top of me. I lifted my bike off me and made sure Manda was okay. 

Moments passed in silence. Man, my hand hurt. I tell Manda, "I think I broke my hand." She didn't say much. She was still assessing her injuries.

A few moments pass in silence. The pain in my hand was now being echoed by my elbow. I tell Manda, "I think I broke my arm." I looked down and noticed blood running down my leg as a man walked by. He didn't offer to help.

More moments pass in silence. My arm was hurting more and more. I didn't feel my hip or my leg anymore.

What did we do next? We were roughly 4 miles from home.  Did we need an ambulance? No. We ran down the checklist of our friends who lived nearby. None of them had a truck to haul our bikes. It was only 4 miles, we would walk.

A mile and a half later, it was completely dark outside, I was starting to go into shock and Manda was having a hard time pushing both bikes.  All I could think about was getting home. After a quick check of the bikes, repairing the chain and realigning the brakes, we decided to try and ride the last two and a half miles home.

My left arm was completely useless and I was scared to clip into my pedals. I decided to ride home with one hand, wearing my kickball cleats. 

This was probably the dumbest and most dangerous decision I made this year.

Road bikes are squirrelly in general and are even more so when the handlebars are unbalanced by one hand use. I nearly crashed a dozen times and each time I would reflexively grab the handle bars with my left hand. Each and every time I did this an incredible, sharp, breath taking pain shot up my left arm. Combine this with having to ride long stretches in almost total darkness (no street lights) while cars fly past you in the bike lane and you end up with a broken cyclist who will most likely have anxiety and post traumatic stress problems for a very long time.

We did finally arrive home an hour later. We stripped off our cycling gear and assessed our injuries.  I was unable to bend or rotate my left arm at all. I suspected it broken. My hip was an amazing array of only blood blisters. Turns out, biking gear has protective qualities. My knee was really swollen and had a gnarly bruise on its side. I removed pieces of asphalt from my calf. My leg was bleeding, but didn't need stitches.

Urgent care was a blur. A physical examination. X-rays. Bandages. Soft cast. Sling.

By the time we arrive home from Urgent Care, I could not lift my head unassisted. With my entire left arm in a soft cast I had to take a bath to rinse off all the blood, asphalt, sweat, and antiseptic/ointments. It was the longest bath in history because Manda had to support my head the entire time.

Manda, thankfully escaped with minor scrapes and bruises. The morning after our crash she was able to have her gall bladder out as scheduled.

We took stock of our gear a few days after the accident:

  • The large chunk missing from the back of my helmet made it very clear how much stress my neck was under when my head hit the ground. I am lucky I did not sustain a concussion.
  • The tears in my Camelback backpack and cracked feeder tube illustrated the punishment it took protecting my ribs and spine. 
  • The large scratches and gashes on the palms of my cycling gloves reminded it could have been so much worse

After 4-5 doctor and specialist appointments my injuries were listed as:

  • hair line fracture in the elbow
  • sprained neck;
  • sprained elbow;
  • sprained wrist;
  • broken bones in my wrist and hand;
  • minor cuts and abrasions.
  • anxiety and post traumatic stress 

Six weeks after the crash:

  • I still cannot drive my car down that two and a half mile stretch.
  • Certain sounds and smells put me back on that bike in the dark trying to get home.
  • I now have lights permanently installed on all by bikes
  • I just started seeing a therapist to manage the anxiety and rediscover my joy of cycling.
  • I am still healing. I have another 3 weeks in the splint for my wrist. ,


Despite this setback, we are still addicted to cycling. To quote the Terminator: "We'll be back".

Peace Out.

Something to fill the time.

With all this free time on my hands since graduation, I set out to find myself a hobby. Not just any hobby, but one in which I could keep fit and look good while doing it. The obvious choice based on this criteria was cycling. I haven't worn spandex since 6th grade and quite frankly I've missed the way it hugs my curves. But I digress.

Our first official cycling trip was a simple 2 mile ride over to where we normally go hiking. I was on a circa 2001 $120 Target mountain bike which hasn't been tuned up ever... I mean ever. In fact, I wasn't sure the chain would survive my shifting the gears... So I didn't.

Manda's bike was just over a year old and was thus categorized as the nice, "new" bike. Despite it's categorization, we were aware that her bike had a "slow leak" in one of it's tires. We were confident this wouldn't be a problem over a 2 mile ride, but we stuck our big ass bike pump in Manda's Camelbak just in case. Passing motorists must have thought we were totally newbs with the two foot bike pump towering above Manda's head. But it is a good thing we decided against looking cool. We had to pump the "slow leak" up every half mile.

Other than the continual inflation needs of Manda's bike, the ride was smooth until we hit our first and only hill. Quite frankly, I almost vomited due to exertion and I didn't even make it to the top. Once I caught my breath and my stomach settled, I deduced that I was not out of shape, but that my bike was entirely too heavy. Plus, it might be nice to be able to shift gears occasionally.

What happened next has been a blur.

Six bike purchases later (With one bike returned) we now each have 3 bicycles. This simple, fun cycling hobby has taken on a life of its own. The slinky spandex outfits control us and feed our egos. We now see no problem walking around in skin tight spandex because we feel they're slimming and all our cool cycling friends are doing it too. (which, I have to say, if you're going to gallivant around in spandex, make sure everyone else is wearing it too. People are less likely to spot you in a crowd).

Additionally, with all this time spent in shorts outside, I think I might have a tan.

Peace Out.

You look different than I thought.

Recently I traveled to meet my new boss. I was pretty nervous about the meeting so naturally Manda took me shopping for a new suit. Nothing boosts confidence levels like new clothes. Black pin-strip pant-suit with a matching vest. Pimpin.

The work day started with 8 hours of meetings and ended with a team dinner.

There were 20+ people who arrived for dinner. The restaurant didn't have a table big enough for 20+ people, so they spread us out amongst multiple tables. I thought it was pretty freaking neat that my new boss chose to sit next to me. I took it as a sign that I hadn't been a total dork in the 8 hours of meetings earlier that day.

During appetizers, my new boss turned to me and said: "You look different that I thought you would."

I was stunned for a few moments but then chuckled and said "I know I'm blessed with a gruff voice, but what were you expecting? A six foot line backer in a dress?"

After the comment left my mouth, I feared she would say "yes, that is exactly what I was expecting." Thankfully, she shook her head, laughed and said simply "no."

Okay. Fine keep me guessing. I could do this all night. Thankfully it didn't go on that long. After a few more questions she finally told me: "well, you look scholarly."

So. Basically. She didn't get the impression I was all that smart. Awesome.

I asked her if it was my glasses. She informed me it wasn't my glasses. Without thinking, I leaned back in my chair and said "it's this sweet vest I'm wearing isn't it?"

Thankfully she got my sense of humor and laughed. *phew*

I never did find out what she thought I'd look like. My money is on the six foot line backer in a dress. Anyone who's ever heard me talk would agree.

Peace Out.
:o)

Whatever.

Sometimes our lives are not funny or interesting. Sometimes we're doing boring things like laundry, sleeping or simply watching tv. I know this information has a good chance of ruining our flashy-exciting image, but I am feeling particularly gutsy today. I'm putting it out there.

Since I'm feeling gutsy, I'm gonna divulge all kinds of embarrassing information. We'll likely lose members of the cult we started last week. Whatever, we don't need any losers that quit. Our cult will still reach its goal of banning paper in the hopes of preventing unnecessary and painful paper cuts.

Back to that information I'm going to share. Did you know that I don't like wearing clothes that fit?... I like clothes 1-4 sizes too large. It is very rare to see me in clothes that actually fit. Manda often says "it looks like a family of jews moved out of the ass of your pants." *shrugs*

The other day I had to get a renal ultrasound... fascinating right? That's not even the good part. I drank 3/4 of a gallon of water within 2 hours of my appointment. I allowed myself the pleasure of peeing twice within those 2 hours. By the time I arrived to the ultrasound place, my bladder hurt so bad, I was sure it was bursting slowly. I'm sweating just thinking about it. I don't know that I've ever been that close to peeing myself in my adult life. Well. There was that time when we were snorkeling off the coast of Cozumel. Only I actually did pee myself that time. I was swimming at the time. For some reason that makes it okay.

Back to our cult. The joining process is simple. You must submit a handwritten easy, no less than 25 pages long, detailing all the reasons you think we're cool. Or you could just leave a comment.

Peace Out.
:o)

Damn Pigeons.

Guess these two birds had upset stomachs.

This was not fun to clean.

Peace Out.

:o)

PS. I love how my classmates took pictures like they'd never seen pigeon poo on a car before. lmao

PSS. Credit to my classmate "Sandwich Mike" for providing these photos.

Remember Me?

I've been neglecting the blog again. Just thought I would mention it in case you didn't notice. I don't really feel bad about it since Manda stopped posting like a year ago... now she just tells me to post whatever she wants. She's cute, so it's working for me.

I hate posts like these where I feel pressured to summarize the last two months into a couple of paragraphs. Not going to happen. Just not going to happen.

 Pointless information from the last 2 months:

  • I had gas a couple of times. Gas-X seemed to help.
  • Manda changed her favorite drink to vodka and cranberry.

  • I found out I have tendinitis in my right elbow.

  • Manda decided not to get her hair cut. At one time she had planned to.
  • I hit 5000 miles on my car. It lost its oil-change-virginity yesterday.
  • Manda ran in her first 5K. I was her #1 fan. Short skirt, pom-poms and all.
  • We changed out our rings for our 5 year anniversary. Called it "the 5 year upgrade".
  • Sadly, three of Manda's relatives passed away.

  • Didn't sleep for two days while I made my sister a homemade Christmas present.
  • Manda joined Facebook... FINALLY. My life is so much easier now.
  • My car was officially named Ellen. Give you one guess who the namesake is.  Now I get to say that I turn her on and drive her crazy. *giggles*

Now for a story about Garrison. I know you've missed these the most.

Garrison. My handsome little man himself. He has something like acid reflux... I don't know. It makes him throw up if he doesn't eat. Anyways. Today I was laying on my bed working when he made the non-confusable "I'm going to throw up" stomach wrenching noises. I tossed my laptop aside and grabbed him. We have a routine where he makes the "I'm going to throw up" noises, I grab him, hold him over the trash can and then he throws up. It requires much less clean up and he's actually quite good with his throw-up aim.

Everything went according to the schedule until I misread the "I'm going to throw up a second time" cues. I caught on as his body wretched, summoning up the goods from his belly. I started to swing him around to the trash can... and well, I don't know if the momentum from the swing accelerated the summoning process, but he spewed mid swing. I watched the "goods" fly through the air and hit the bedroom door. Yes. One large mass of green/yellow stomach bile flew through the air and splattered on my bedroom door.

This was immediately funny. I'm still laughing about it. Dog vomit stories are always funny when they don't involve stained carpet and actual vomit landing on me.

Good Times.

My school and work schedules are getting back to normal, so blogging should be more frequent. Or so I hope. :o)

Peace Out

:o)

Crackling Fire...

Three and a half hours in the car was a little much for Garrison who'd never spent more than 45 minutes previously. It was amusing to look in the back seat and see him staring at the floor in boredom. He was a good sport the whole way to Lakeside, where we'd rented a cabin for the weekend.

Lucy helped Manda drive. Lucy feels it necessary to help with tasks such as this. It helps her feel needed. She's attempted cooking and wrapping presents as well, but driving is her most successful assist thus far.

Within a few minutes of arriving we had our fire going... Both pyros to our core, the fire was THE most important part of the trip. The crackling and popping are imperative for roasting marshmallows. And boy did we roast marshmallows.

Manda is always educating me on things. She's a never ending source of new knowledge. Imagine my delight when she taught me that while eating a freshly roasted marshmallow, it can get stuck to the roof of your mouth. Her eyes bulging, I had to remind her that her body comes equipped with a backup breathing device. Breath through your nose! We laughed so hard we cried. This went on for hours. I think this single night alone was the funniest one I've had all year.

Our cabin was roughly 250 square feet. It doesn't take much of a fire to warm that small of a space up... It was 32 degrees outside and we were walking around our cabin, in our underwear, with the windows open, because it was too hot to wear clothing. (No pictures of this, sorry.)  Guess we built the fire a little too big. Which if you ask Manda, is impossible. There is no such thing as "a fire too big". (hence, how we got ourselves into that situation)

Friday night we fell asleep with the fire roaring and the windows open. It was PERFECT... for us. Manda woke around 3am, the fire was out and the cabin was frigid. Poor Garrison was laying on his bed shivering. Turns out it got down to 26 that night. We snuggled him under the covers with us and he slept the rest of the night like a champ. Of course he hogged the bed and kicked in his sleep, but as long as he was warm that's all that matters.

We spend Saturday morning hiking around the lake near our cabin. The dogs were in heaven. Manda and I were frozen. It was damn cold near the lake. We thought about fishing, but decided against it when we considered 1. Who would bait the hooks 2. Who would remove the fish from the hook if we actually caught anything. Neither of us were willing to volunteer for either task, so we spend the rest of the afternoon napping and watching football.

Okay, so I napped and she watched football. All that matters is Alabama beat LSU. Roll Tide!

We roasted turkey-dogs over the fire Saturday night. I hadn't done that since I was a kid. Fortunately, the turkey-dog did not get stuck to the roof of Manda's mouth. Apparently, that delight is isolated soley to marshmallows only.

The trip was a blast and a needed break. We'll definitely be going back again!

Peace Out.

:o)

Knife free fun.

Manda's parents left this morning. It was an action packed week. *yawn* I'm still recovering from all the time spent in the car.

Our first stop was Tombstone, a historic western town about an hour southeast of Tucson. It took us roughly 3 hours of listening to country music to make the journey. Now I don't hate country music. In fact I usually enjoy it in small doses. Three hours was a little much but worth the pain. I did learn a few things.

Manda's dad loves country music. Loves it. I'm talking "shamelessly singing off-key at the top of your lungs" loves country music. It was adorable. And he actually has a decent voice. It was just those really high notes that made my ears bleed. Almost erased those images of him with the machete. Almost.

Manda's dad knows a lot of random facts about random things. Thanks to my blackberry we were able to investigate his random knowledge. As a group, we are now much smarter.

Tombstone was a hit. Manda's dad loved the old western town and the characters found throughout it.

After a quick three hour return trip to Phoenix for a night's sleep, we drove five hours up to the Hoover Dam the next morning. I tried to rebel against the country music. After all, I'd listened to 6 hours of it the day before. My protests succeeded for about an hour. But I was ultimately overruled by everyone else. Manda apparently had forgotten how much she just loves country music! :o)

Hoover dam was a hit as well. Manda's dad was impressed with the engineering feat but not the prices of the food. No he didn't like the prices at all.

From the Hoover dam we drove 3 hours to Williams, Arizona. Williams is found on the historic Route 66 which immediately earned it cool points with Manda's parents. I thought everyone had driven on  Route 66, but apparently if you're from po-dunk Alabama there's a good chance you haven't.

Williams is where the weather caught our attention. 39 degrees. Really? 32 degrees with wind chill. Really?! I knew it would be cooler, but that's down right winter weather!

Manda's dad again earned adorable points by continually talking about the weather difference between Phoenix and Williams. To quote: "15 degrees I could see, but a 40-50 degree difference?!" For us Arizonans, this difference is not only expected but welcomed. Northern Arizona is our haven from the heat.

The next morning we caught a historic train to the Grand Canyon. Again, Manda's dad was adorable. Apparently he likes trains.

For those of you who don't know, Manda's dad was in a motorcycle accident 3-4 weeks ago. His broken bones and road rash are still healing, so he's still taking life slowly and from a new perspective. He was an absolute delight on the train ride. It was like watching a kid experience something new for the first time.

Needless to say, the Grand Canyon was a huge hit. How could it not be? ... well, the bone chilling cold almost ruined it. We had to get creative to keep warm.

After touring the great state of Arizona from the southeast corner to the Northwest corner, we called our sight seeing adventures complete. Manda's parents are already compiling a list of things they want to see the next time they come.

And for those of you wondering, the machete never appeared. Although there were some points during the many hours of country karaoke that I wished it had!

Peace Out!

:o)

Hiding the knives.

My pseudo "in-laws" are coming to town.  That means my pseudo "father-in-law" is coming as well... and staying with us. For those of you who don't know, Manda's dad scares the SH*T out of me.

Don't get me wrong. He's a nice guy. He just loves his daughter a LOT. And when I saw a lot, I mean this:

Back in 2004, Manda was moving out here from Birmingham, so I flew out there to drive back with her. Her car was packed up, we're saying our goodbyes and getting ready to drive away. Her dad hadn't said ONE word to me the entire time I was there when suddenly, and I mean suddenly, he looked me square in the eyes and said "you take care of my daughter."

I admit, I peed myself a little. Which in my mind is better than soiling myself. Less stinky.

The next few times he saw me, he looked through me. Then a few times after that he started talking to me when he'd had a few drinks. Only after the Thanksgiving diarrhea incident  has he actually acknowledged my presence and started what some would consider "normal" conversations. Diarrhea brings people together. Just saying.

Because her father and I are in that cautious and delicate stage of developing and establishing our relationship, I'm scared that the more time I spend with him the greater the chance of me screwing up is.  Not that I'm a screw up, I mean I can be, but you know what I'm saying... right?

Did I ever tell you the story about when he was sharpening his machete? Manda is shaking her head right now because it wasn't really a machete, it was a pocket knife that, in my mind, was the size of a machete. Anyways, he was sharpening his machete when he says to Manda's mom "you know what I'm gonna do with this?". Ummmm... What? "I'm gonna use it on Lindsay since she's the reason my daughter's in Arizona."

I've been assured he was joking, but I'm hiding all the kitchen knives just in case.

Peace Out.

:o)

Climbing Rocks.

Yesterday, Manda and I went climbing at a local rock climbing gym. She'd never been so I was prepared to show her how it was done. That one time I went in college 8 years ago was enough to make me a professional... right?

I like to think I'm athletic. I mean, I work out regularly and I played varsity sports. It's part of my genetic make up... right?

Pshh. Whatever. Manda freaking walked up those 20-30 foot walls like they were horizontal. While her athletic abilites were a pleasure to watch, and believe me I enjoyed every second of it, I was left feeling like an ackward 13 year old boy who loves star wars, trying to dance with two left feet. Not pretty.

Needless to say Manda showed me a few things. I was the student and she was the master. I left with lots of bruises... She left after barely breaking a sweat.

If she weren't so damn cute, I'd have been more upset at her for showing me up. But alas, she's adorable. She can win every time and its okay with me.

Peace Out.
:o)

Sticky Toes.

Had to share this story from a few weeks ago:

In our Alabama induced food coma, we returned to Arizona. We picked the kids up from the borders and since they had that "some larger dog peed on me" smell we took them directly to the doggie salon to get prettied up.

There's a new Petsmart down the street from our house, so we didn't have to drive far. We were hanging out in the entryway of the grooming center for a good 5 minutes when suddenly Manda shrieked.

Yes shrieked.

We both looked down to see Garrison lifting his leg over Manda's feet. She was wearing sandals. Urine was running down her shins and between her toes. Even after the shriek Garrison continued to pee as if it was the most normal thing in the world to lift his leg and pee on his mom.

After Garrison was finished, we both just stood there. Well. Okay. I was laughing hysterically and Manda was letting a few four letter words fly. But there was standing involved.

As I was laughing, the assistant manager of Petsmart walked up to us and between giggles offered to clean Manda's shoes with sanitizer. Manda accepted.  The groomer gave us a few towels to clean up with.

In total, this is the third time in Garrison's young life that he's peed on Manda.

He has never peed on me.

Peace Out.
=o)

Chew and Swallow.

During my hiatus from the blog, not only did I drive around the block a lot, I also finished my first two courses for my master's. During finals week, Manda didn't see me very much.  We were two ghosts passing in the night. Thankfully, it was only a week!

We also traveled to Alabama to meet her new niece, Sarah Ann, and eat.  Seriously.  All we did was eat during the four days we were there.  Manda's mom made her famous BBQ the first night of our trip. We were so excited about it that during our lay-over in Memphis we ate Lay's potato chips and Reeses Pieces to avoid spoiling our appetites. No lie.

The next day Manda took me to her favorite BBQ restaurant (Bob Sykes). I don't know if you've eaten a lot of BBQ within 24 hours, but that'll mess with your internal pipes. I had a moment of panic in the restaurant bathroom when my stomach was rejecting the BBQ overload. Remember #10 from our holiday adventures list last Thanksgiving? I almost had a repeat. The bathroom had two stalls, both empty. I did eenie-meenie-miny-mo and went to the right. I was just finishing up my business when someone occupied the other stall. She was the one who discovered that toilet didn't work. I almost cried with joy at her misfortune.

Anyways back to the eating. After a gynormous lunch of southern BBQ, we had a sleep over at her cousin's where we gorged ourselves on candy, pizza, ice cream, and home made peanut butter cake.  *burp*

I could not eat breakfast the next morning because my stomach was on strike. For lunch we had mexican food. Lots of mexican food.  For dinner we met a couple of Manda's former high school groupies and decided to go easy with soup and salad ... and a huge dessert. *groan*

For breakfast on the last day we were there, Manda's mom made breakfast casserole. Don't know if you've had the southern version, but the only thing missing is the gravy... every other breakfast food is included. It was damn good.

On the way to the airport, Manda's grandparents insisted we meet them at their favorite Chinese restaurant. After arriving, we refused to eat. There simply was no room anywhere in our bodies to shove additional food. Well... we did have an ice cream cone while we watched them eat. But other than that, we succeeded in our forced anorexia for a few hours.

We're now spending all our free time at the gym. Damn southern food! :o)

Peace Out.
:o)

I did it.

It took us a few months to get over the insulting experience we had at the local Lexus dealership. I tested the waters by visiting other car makers. Test drove the likes of Infiniti, Volvo, and Mini. I stared long and hard at BMW's and Acura's. I even took a peek at Honda. But nothing made my heart skip a beat like the Lexus. *sigh*

Recent events rekindled my desire and determination to get the Lexus. And when I say rekindled, I really mean it. I love this car.  (Not as much as Manda and Ellen DeGeneres, but close)

This experience was much better and I actually ended up with my favorite salesman of all time: Jim. I thought finding a car salesmen that didn't make my skin crawl would be impossible. Turns out it wasn't. I just had to look in the right place.

Jim made the transaction as painless as possible for Manda and I. Well, really it was painless for me. Manda was bored out of her mind during the one hour orientation we had inside the car. But she toughed it out for me. :o)

So, I am now the proud owner of a 2008 Lexus IS250. It is dark grey (Lexus calls it "smokey granite"). Since I don't have any pictures yet, here is a link to Lexus's website that represents what I'm driving around now.

Okay. I'm going to go drive around the block a hundred times just because I can.

Peace Out.
:o)

July Fourth.

Every summer we head across the country to Georgia. Atlanta specifically. Always a good time, we look forward to it every year. We spent our July 4th weekend frollicking amongst the Georgia peaches. And when I say "peaches", I mean homos. It was Gay Pride Weekend!

We stayed with Kim and Pam. My fictional step-parents. Two people I'll always be bonded to (whether they like it or not). They had the dubious task of entertaining us for 3 days. Pam's peanut butter pie was unbelievable. I had 4 pieces. Only 4 because we ran out of pie. Georgi (Kim and Pam's dog) was immensely entertaining. Between the pie, Georgi and Kim educating me about tennis (did you see the match between Federer and Nadal?!) I would have been content never leaving their house.

This was our 6th summer in Atlanta. The previous 4 years it rained. This year was the second time we've gotten drenched.

The first year the rain soaked us it was fun. Our friends left us in Piedmont park to watch one of our favorite singers perform (Melissa Ferrick). It was almost dark. There were people everywhere. Fifteen minutes before showtime, the wind picked up and the rain started falling. Manda and I started running around Piedmont park looking for shelter. By the time we found shelter it was too late. Loving the rain, I started jumping in puddles and singing songs at the top of my lungs. Manda joined me. Seriously, this is one of my favorite memories.

This year thunder and lightening wanted to play with the rain. Lightening is okay. A little flashy and wild, but doable. I just wish thunder would find other friends. And this wasn't skinny, shy thunder. This was big, bully, weight lifter thunder. The kind you can feel in your chest and makes the ground shake with fear. ::shudder:: We thought we were prepared for the rain. The ponchos proved futile. This was serious rain. The upside? We made new friends. Rain brings people together. Clay and Rob will always have a special place in our hearts for letting us into their home, giving us dry clothes and letting us whine. :o)

Atlanta was great. Seeing old friends and making new ones made it memorable. Already looking forward to next year.

Peace Out.

:o)

Ass Rerun.

Turns out graduate school is hard. It requires a lot of work. So in an attempt to pay attention to the blog, here's an old blog entry I wrote a while back. Enjoy. -- 

Ass... makes me smile every time I hear it... this simple little word makes my face light up like a Christmas tree. Ah, the simple, guilty pleasures in life are the best.

For as much as I love ass, I can not say ass... I can type ass, I can spell ass, I can read ass, I can smell ass, I can listen to ass, I can even say ass in my head... heck, I can even spot a good ass walking down the street, but I can not for the life of me, say ass out loud. I know, I know... why the hell not? If I knew the answer to that question, I would be a lot cooler than I am now... that's for sure. Cause you know all the cool people can say ass and not flinch.

Flinch?... do I really flinch?... well, I have yet to say ass out loud, so I don't know if I would flinch. But, I'm a pretty big nerd, so it wouldn't surprise me. For Example: I hate feet. If someone's nasty ass feet touch me, I flinch. Now you may say, that's not weird, lots of people don't like feet. Well, you're right, my example was not a very good one. Let me try again. For Example 2: I hate getting flipped off. It hurts my feelings and even if someone does it in jest, I get mad at them and want to kick their ass. I also can not flip other people off. Guess this plays into what my first grade teacher, Mrs. White, taught me... "Lindsay, if you don't want other people to flip you off, you can't very well go around flipping them off. Now stop flipping me off!"... I also learned from Mrs White, that its not good to eat glue, pick my nose during class and chase girls around the playground (heaven forbid people think I'm gay!). She was a wealth of knowledge. (She had ghetto ass... Mrs. White was not a slim woman.)

So back to the topic. Ass. You know what makes a good ass?... a good set of legs to anchor it. I'm talking nice tone legs with a good set of calves. Calves... not the ones that "moo" and eat grass, I'm talking about the ones that immediately precede a nice set of ankles. And a nice set of ankles precede a good looking pair of shoes. =o)

Anyways, I forget why I started this topic... Oh yeah, I don't have an ass. I'm thinking of getting ass implants.

Peace Out.

=o)

Dosing Off.

Being a lung surgeon just simply wasn't enough for me. Apparently, I had way too much time on my hands. So I decided to go back to graduate school. I want more meaningless pieces of paper supposedly representing my intelligence. They look good in frames.

I'm sitting in class right now. This class is four hours long. That's a long ass time. Try sitting still for 4 hours. Listening to a little Asian man. With an accent. Talking about things that make you wish you were doing something more exciting. Paint drying sounds fun. Or maybe somebody is growing some grass somewhere that I could watch. I'm desperate enough that spending time with the molester is appealing at this point.

We just had a break and I bought some strawberry flavored mentos from the market here on campus. I'll be suffering from a sugar crash in about an hour and a half. But really, who can resist strawberry mentos? Not me.

Manda's taking a Spanish class right now. My little southern girl is learning to speak Spanish with a southern accent. I am continually smiling because I don't think she could get any cuter.

I have nothing interesting to say. I am just bored.

*wishing Scottie would beam me up*

Peace Out.
:o)

100 Things...

Saw this on a few different blogs and thought it was fun. Here are 100 things about me:

1. I am the middle child of 5
2. People tell me middle children have issues
3. I don't know if they're trying to tell me something.
4. I have an older brother
5. older sister
6. younger sister
7. younger brother
8. There are 8 years between me and my older brother
9. and 4 years between me and my younger brother.
10. My family tells me I am a female version of my father.
11. That's because him and I have similar personalities
12. and senses of humor.
13. Of course, I think my dad is awesome.
14. I am a geek.
15. People disagree with me until I start talking about my job.
16. That shuts them up
17. and makes their eyes glaze over
18. Turns out my job isn't that interesting.
19. But I love it
20. It suites my A.D.D.
21. That's because I'm always working on 10 things at once.
22. I'm in love with my best friend.
23. Thankfully the feeling is mutual.
24. We've been together almost 5 years.
25. We have two kids
26. With four legs
27. and a tale each.
28. I used to have a cat
29. named Trojan.
30. While I was packing for a trip, he peed in my suitcase
31. and I didn't find out until I reached my destination.
32. All my clothes smelled like cat piss.
33. Somehow he lived through that.
34. I used to have a dog
35. named Browser.
36. He was standing next to me in the kitchen one time
37. when I heard a noise
38. I looked down to see projectile diarrhea shooting out his ass.
39. He just stood there like it wasn't happening.
40. I still laugh about that now.
41. I played basketball in high school.
42. Made varsity my sophomore year.
43. I was a long range shooter
44. who played small forward.
45. During a game, a teammate and I ran smack dab into each other
46. while running opposite directions on the court.
47. I had a black eye for a week.
48. Another time I stepped on a teammates foot
49. during warm ups
50. sprained my ankle.
51. I was in a walking cast for a month.
52. The other day, I ran into a wall at work
53. that's been there since the day I started
54. 7.5 years ago.
55. Turns out I'm kind of a klutz.
56. My favorite food is tortilla soup
57. with chicken
58. and not a lot of onions.
59. I detest onions
60. and tomatoes
61. and green bell peppers.
62. My mom loves green bell peppers.
63. I also love pesto
64. and pasta.
65. and PB&J.
66. But not necessarily together.
67. We shop at Target
68. at least once a week.
69. Sometimes we like to go there just to hang out.
70. We have friends that hang out there too.
71. Not at our Target, but theirs.
72. We detest Walmart.
73. I refuse to shop there.
74. I'd pay twice as much for stuff just not to shop there.
75. I'm not hairy.
76. I can go 3 days without shaving my legs
77. and there's barely any hair.
78. I have to cut my finger nails often.
79. Almost every other day.
80. I can't handle any white showing
81. or hang nails.
82. I like my eyebrows.
83. They're very low maintenance.
84. They might be my best feature
85. next to my eyes
86. and lips
87. and  biceps.
88. I have the boobs in my family.
89. Or at least my sister's tell me that.
90. I'm not complaining
91. nor do I get complaints from others.
92. Caffeine gives me headaches
95. I'm stupid for drinking Diet Coke lately.
96. Black olives never get old.
97. They're good with everything
98. except cereal.
99. I call loofah sponges, oompaloompas
100. Because I can never remember the word "loofah". (yes I had to confirm with Manda what they were really called.)

Peace Out.
:o)

Top Ten: Cancun Adventures

I thought I would be bored. Laying on the beach gets old. I was wrong.

10. The pineapple. Fresh pineapple with every meal. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Turns out there is a lot of fiber in pineapple. By the end of the trip, I was more "regular" than I'd ever been.

9. The hammocks. Good for reading, sleeping, and getting sun burned. (And it usually happens in that order)

8. Traveling two and a half hours to Cozumel. Thanks to Tony's fine Spanish skills we were able to catch the city bus to downtown Cancun (60 cents and 20 minutes), then jump on a Greyhound style air conditioned bus down to Playa del Carmen ($6 and 90 minutes), only to get on a ferry to Cozumel from there ($11 and 45 minutes). Quite the adventure considering we were the only white people on everything except the ferry. I got very good at saying "Hola", "Gracias" and executing the "smile and nod". (hello, thank you and I have no idea what you're saying)

7. Manda's impression of a chinese person imitating a white person. It wasn't funny until we asked why she was making her eyes so wide. Her reply? "Well, chinese people's eyes are slits, so if they want to imitate a white person, they have to make them bigger." It had us laughing so hard we cried.

6. Running around in bikini tops and board shorts. This is an adventure for me because I'd never worn a bikini anything before. I only flashed my nips a couple of times... not intentionally of course.

5. Ana our waitress the last night in Cancun. She was so good at providing potent alcoholic drinks, she had Manda and Tony toasted in 5 drinks. In fact poor Tony puked his guts out during dinner. Not to worry, he felt much better afterwards.

4. Snorkeling in Cozumel. We went out on one of those "glass bottom" boats... which really turned out to be an old, rickety boat with plexiglass inserts. It was so high class it required someone to hold wires from the motor to a battery under the backseat. At first we thought it was scary, then it was funny. Really, who's idea was it to combine water and naked electrical wires?! I don't think the guides get paid enough for possible electrocution.

3. I bought a silver ring at one of the markets in Cancun. It became my "lesbionic" ring. Named because it looked like something Wonder Woman would wear. Not sure how we made the jump from Wonder Woman to the Bionic Woman, but somehow we did. Once the jump was made, the ring was named.

2. No clocks anywhere. Never knowing what time it was. This often resulted in us trying to eat at very odd times, but it was strangely freeing. If I only I could avoid clocks in real life! I already hate alarm clocks and refuse to use them. I think I would be ostracized if I avoided clocks all together. Plus, I'm obsessed with watches.

1.  Sun bathing. We watched women sun bathe topless. We watched men sun bathe topless. We watched iguanas sun bathe topless. There was a lot of topless sun bathing going on. There were also a lot of sun burned white people. We didn't join the sun burned white people club until Monday. And trust me, we had tan lines. Topless sun bathing is a sport we'd prefer to watch instead of participate in. Our nipples are assests worthy of protection.

Manda and I have been peeling since we got back. I guess the fun doesn't stop when the vacation ends!!

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Peace Out!

:o)