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Updates

Let's see...what happened while I was gone?

I turned 33. It wasn't bad, except that the Cheesecake Factory made their slices of cheesecake smaller.

I had a cookout. It rained all day but cleared up in time to grill. Not a lot of people came, but my cake looked like a beach. That was cool.

Chris and I went to Florida to go visit my brother and sister-in-law. That was awesome. I will write more about that later. I have lots to say. Maybe tomorrow because Chris is building a porch and might not get over here tomorrow night. I was hoping we could have movie night, even though we did manage to curl up on the couch and watched "Knocked Up" one night in Florida.

One thing we know for sure: Our next trip to Florida will definitely include Shelby. She waited up for us Friday night when we called her from Atlanta and said we'd be home in a few hours. I'll post a picture of her in her Key West "pirate chick" t-shirt when I get it off my camera.

When I look at my life over the last six months, I am just amazed how much it has changed, how much I have changed. I am so happy with Chris and Shelby. All because someone was cool to me when I wished him a happy birthday in December. So, I decided that it was time to move on.

Of course, this past weekend I was staring my most ginormous crush of all times right in the face, and I made it out alive. I'm happy where I am. Not that he wanted to change that anyhow. He's always known where I was. And no matter what those guys say, there's a certain image in that world, and I don't have that image.

Nope. I'm just a kinda-sorta stepmom with her SUV/truck/station wagon/crossover vehicle with sippy cups, strollers, toys and car seats in the hatch. Last week, I held hands with my boyfriend on the beach and ate romantic dinners at beach-side cafes. I'm pretty damn happy, and I don't even wonder if the grass is greener on the other side.

Yep, love. It's a lot like Miracle Grow.

On Saturday, despite my claim that I was never getting in another car as long as I live, I headed to Louisville with some friends to see the little singing man. (Best to not say his name in case he googles himself again. Lol.) Anyhow, we had fun and it really wasn't a bad time. The show was different this year. Of course, the drive was long, I was tired and after walking miles in South Florida, the last thing I really needed was to stand in one spot trying to keep the crazy asses from stealing our spots near the stage. I finally gave up with about 30 minutes left and got a security guard to get me a chair. I don't need to get a high five or an autograph (although I would like to get something for that charity event next week!) to enjoy a concert. He doesn't know you're there (OK, he knew I was there, but that's a whole other therapy session) and you don't earn any points in heaven just because you're up by the stage. And besides, no one wants to have to help hold up Jennifer Nettles' mosh pit ball.

Of course, now I feel like hell because those crazy, inbred Kentucky mountain folks were smoking in the sandbar. Not just smoking, chain smoking. And nothing floats out of that pit. So, being that I am allergic to smoke, I can barely open my eyes today. I feel absolutely miserable. So much so that when Paul called my broke ass to work at Toy Hell today, I told him I needed to go home and rest. I can't wait to take out my contacts, take a benadryl and go to bed.

I have to go to work tomorrow, and I am dreading it. One of my coworkers felt the urge to tell me someone got the can while I was on vacation. I know I do a great job and have no performance issues, but it always makes me nervous when someone gets the can, especially because the economy is in the toilet and I know the budget at work is already blown for the year. Chris might just be fixing to get a really good job, and he tells me if that happens that I won't have to work anymore. I'm not going to hold my breath, and it's not like I don't want to work anyhow. At least until I have kids.

But, I guess if something does happen to my job I can work on the Great American Novel, because at some point I need to do that. So, I'll be OK, as long as my new car doesn't get repossessed.

I'll do a better job of keeping you posted. I'm not going to post at work, but I'm going to try to get on a few times a week and write for at least just a little bit. It's hard sometimes, but I'm going to try better.

posted by Laura at 9:46 PM