Okay...okay!

Alright, I know how long it's been since I've posted a blog. Trust me, as many times as I'm reminded that I have not provided a distraction from work or life I honestly have not had 10 minutes, until now, to sit down and type. I'm not entirely sure that I'll be able to do justice to all the stuff I have been doing since we last met. I'll try though. So where do I start? The last time we talked I was having a huge issue with my room mate in New York. I feel like that was so long ago. Since then here is what has happened...
**Dad's 60th birthday party. Now on the surface this doesn't sound like a real difficult task, however, when you have to put together a video and have absolutely no idea step one of this activity it takes up about 87% of your life. PS, yes, I did go to school and graduate with a Radio-TV-Film degree, but when did a class in school ever prepare you for real life? Hindsight I realize how easy this could have been, but when you throw in three VHS videos that have been turned into DVDs, but only converted frame by frame, it causes a little bit of a difficulty when you want it done now. Throw in CVS taking their sweet ass time converting our pictures into a disk and you have something that normally would take 3 days stretched out into weeks. Not to mention that no one told me that if you're going to add music, one should add the music from the beginning and then continue on from there. Don't ever put songs on the DVD sporadically, it doesn't work. Well, I'm glad Dad loved the DVD, b/c if he didn't, I would make him! And then there was the day before, when we had the family gathering for the present opening. Meg thought it would be fun to buy everyone lotto tickets, innocent, of course. Well, she had, in addition to the normal lotto tickets, bought gag lotto tickets and we thought it would be fun to play a joke on my brother. So as the evening was drawing to a close, we started to hand out the tickets. Everyone but brother bear got normal tickets. As he starts scratching his ticket, I grab the flip cam and can't stop laughing, so I have to leave the room. Meg puts her head down and begins her giggle fit as well. From the hallway all I can hear is "wait a minute, wait a minute. What does that say?". I have, of course, filmed this entire moment, and when I figure out how to download this footage on my computer, you bet your ass I'll show it. He hands the ticket to my dad, who confirms that he has, indeed, won $50,000. He then hands it to my aunt who notices that we have not been able to breathe during this entire time. Phillip gets so mad that this is a joke ticket that the mood of the room immediately shifts. Of course, Meg and I cannot stop laughing even though Phillip keeps saying how unfunny this whole thing is. As we begin to calm down, a background story is revealed. Apparently for the past couple of months, all my brother has been telling my dad is that all he needs to be all set is $50,000. What are the odds that this is the exact amount of money that the gag lotto ticket was? Although this is a little sad, it's also so unbelievably funny it's hard not to laugh when reliving this story.

Okay, I know I owe you more stories, but in all honesty, I've done so much stuff today that I really need to take a break and do nothing right now. I promise I'll have part two of what I've been doing tomorrow!

Miska Mouska Mouskateer

Okay, so you know how yesterday I was all Zen like and Betty Buddha? Well this was all before I discovered that I thought I had a mouse under my bed last night. So there I was laying in the dark, about to doze off when I hear this tiny little squeak coming from the far reaches of the underworld of the bed. At first I thought it was the air conditioner, so I layed there, motionless waiting for the noise to come again. When it happened again, I noticed that the sound was not coming from above my head, but below it. I immediately start to freak the F out. It's not normal for me to be scared of one of Gods creatures. And I'm not entirely sure that I would say that I was frightened, but I was not peering under the bed skirt of that bed, that one thing was for damn sure. I kept trying to convince myself that no matter how scared I was of that varmint, it was about 1,000 times more scared of me. Not to mention the fact that I'm about a billion times as big as it. But those "reassuring" statements of fact didn't mean a thing. So as the minutes turned into to hours, I kept repeated Hickory Dickory Dock round and round in my head. Would the mouse run up the bed? Do mice even climb? All I kept laying there visualizing was me drifting off to sleep and this gigantic figure of a mouse was going to be laying on the pillow next to me when I awoke. It was absurd, I get it, but it still didn't allow me to fall asleep. So, I continued to plot my next move. Maybe I'll try and sit up, make enough noise, or turn the light on to allow the mouse to go back in its home. Crawl back to where it came from. But as I sat up in bed and reach for the bed skirt to move it around, I wondered just what in the world would I do if that thing came scooting out from under the bed? And what if, just WHAT IF this thing was a rat? Sure rats are supposed to only live in sewers and by water and terrible messes, but what if one of the neighbors here had one as a pet. My college boyfriend had one as a pet. He never got out, but it's not completely out of the realm of possibility. So I layed back down. Waiting, listening, keeping completely still in case Mortimer had a big giant pistol and a mouse mafia that was out to kill me. As the sun came up, I somehow felt a little better as if these creatures are nocturnal. So as a more normal time arises, I text my dad and immediately head up to his room to tell the story. And oh by the way the phone by my bed was missing, and I sure as hell wasn't looking underneath the bed to find it. I needed a big strong man to take this creature on and I needed that person stat. We fortunately get to head to the golf course for the remainder of the day, but as we arrive back, I make dear old dad come to the room to check for any possible perps. All areas under the bed were clear, but just to be safe, he pulls the bed away from the wall where we find a MOUSE TRAP! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!? What kind of dump actually keeps mouse traps in their rooms? It's not like we're staying at a HoJo either. So, he tells me that we need to head back downstairs and tell the front desk that I need to change rooms. Downstairs, I am "welcomed" by the front desk crew who thinks this is a joke. That if there was a mouse trap in my room, it was from years ago and that they can assure me that there is nothing in there. I ask for another room anyway and as she fake looked at her computer, told me that there was nothing available, but she'll send maintenance up right away. I could actually hear them laughing at me as I walked away. I'm sorry people, this isn't that funny. Me customer, you wrong. I head up to my room and wait. A knock on the door arrives minutes later, with Darryl and his other brother Darryl leading the charge. They go immediately to where the trap is located, pick it up and repeat the statement from downstairs. These mouse traps are two years old at least. There is nothing in them. As he mentions this, he literally SHAKES this trap and a knocking noise comes out of that thing and some flying debris, but the soot is so not the point. I jump back and they walk out the door. As I shut the door behind them, I hear THEM laughing. Holy shit people, this douchebag, shook a mouse trap and there was something in it. Don't tell me there is nothing to freak out over. When I paid for this room, I didn't pay for a room mate to join me and if I did, he would be about 6'3 and a great cuddler, not 6 inches long and squeaks in my sleep. When I was younger I always thought I would be a Mousekateer, but after last night, I want no part of that club.

Eat, Pray, Love

Have you ever seen, or read, or heard something so profound that you just knew as soon as it hit you that it was going to change your life? I consider myself a pretty grounded person. Sure I subscribe to People Magazine and I will watch the entire half hour of Access Hollywood, but as far as life changing things go, I'm usually pretty black and white. About a year ago I read the book, Eat, Pray, Love. At the time of this reading, I was lying on a beach on vacation. For those of you who haven't read this book, I highly recommend it. To summarize and totally not do it justice, this book is a story about the author who was in a relationship that she didn't want, leading a life that she didn't feel was hers, and just needed to find who she was. As I was reading each word, I looked to my companion and thought, what am I doing? Is this what I want to be doing? Is this who I want to be here with? And not that there was anything terrible going on, but was this what I wanted? For the longest time, I've always felt that I was living the life that everyone else expected of me. I got good grades in high school, I never drank, I never smoked pot, I never stayed out past curfew. I always looked at my brother in sister in awe of how they just lived the life they wanted to have. Even after I graduated from college, I never took time off to travel around the world or just kick back. No, I immediately started working for my dad as soon as my bags were shipped back home. And this is no ones fault but the ideas that I created into my own head of what others, I thought expected of me. I've stayed in relationships WAY too long with guys that were in no way good enough for me because I never wanted to hurt anyone. I always thought that if I ended it, that might be it for me. I never thought I deserved better. Through all this, I've always prided myself on the people that I've surrounded myself with that I would consider friends. I know I've said before how amazing my friends are, but I just don't think there are enough words in the world to describe how I feel about these people. So, when it came time to do something for myself and finally take my life into my own hands, it was a scary moment, or moments. To be completely honest, the past couple of weeks without a job have been the most introspective times of my entire 32 years of existence. There is not one person that you can turn to because you are doing this whole thing for yourself. And that is completely foreign to me. I know it might seem completely impossible for one person to never feel that she has been selfish, but it's true. When I was growing up, I felt the full responsibility to make sure that my brother was safe. We never had parents that beat us or anything like that, but to me, he has always been the weaker one. The one that wouldn't be able to fight for himself if it came right down to it. It never occurred to me that no one was looking out for me. All the time I focused on others, I never knew who I really was. I know I am a loyal and honest person. I am a kickass sister, daughter, friend, girlfriend. I would lay down in traffic for anyone that I know would do it back to me, but I've never let anyone lay down on the sword for me. So, again I emphasis, these past two weeks have almost been like an out of body experience. Now, that being said, I have never once questioned the actual act of quitting my job, but the idea of not knowing where money is going to come from is a TERRIFYING thought. But you know what is even more terrifying? Not worrying about it. Not caring what is going to happen and having full and total faith that something will. And that something is going to huge. I've spent so much of my life telling myself that I wasn't doing anything that was helping anyone. That what I did, didn't really make a difference, in the grand scheme of things. But it did. I wouldn't be where I am, without where I've been. I wouldn't be who I am without the situations and the people that I have been around. I know this is deep and almost completely out of character for me, but last night, while sitting in the movie theater, watching Eat, Pray, Love, it was almost as if my life, my worries, my thoughts, my inner most demons were being played out on a screen. And as the following words were uttered "I realized that once I let everything go, the world was able to welcome me and show me its possibilities" I stopped thinking. My life has been a long series of "what ifs" that I lost site of what's happening now. Living in the moment is hard in the age of tivo and netflix and blackberrys. The world just seems to keep on spinning, and we just keep on missing it. I decided right there and then that my life was going to be different! I am going to live like it IS the last day of my life. I'm going to do things that I want to do. They might not be the right thing or the hip thing or the in thing, but I don't care anymore. The whole point of this phase in my life was to live, and the more time I devote to changing what I really can't, the more of life I'm wasting. I am so excited to welcome the world back and start to see things in a brighter light. I do believe that life really does change when you stop to smell the roses. And if I haven't done, give yourself a hug for me :o)

Retirement

I honestly thought that quitting work would mean that I would be quitting work. I never expected that my father would have me set an alarm to be at his office by 9 am yesterday morning. You would have thought that I went to bed at 7:30 am, the way I felt all day yesterday. I was slumping around and dragging. It wasn't like I was out there taming lions either. I was simply putting things together for an auction and golf tournament. At 4 pm, after doing what felt like days of grueling slave labor on the computer, I walked into my dads office and told him I was leaving. I guess the good thing about working for free is that you can make your own hours. However, although I felt like I should workout once I got home, I just couldn't. Even though besides typing on the computer the only other thing I ended up doing was shoving everything eatable that I could into my pie hole. I tried everything in me to motivate myself to workout, but it just didn't work. I mean, who could avoid a brand new bed with a feather top mattress cover? So, I did what anyone is my position would do. Lay in a heap on that princess bed and watch Gossip Girl for two hours. I wanted to sleep, but I also knew that if I fell asleep, the rest of the night might be a waste for me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, in big cities we are allowed to go out on school nights. There was just no way I could turn down the chance to see a concert and hang out with a friend of mine I hadn't seen in forever. Here's where the story gets a little interesting. As I'm driving to meet my friend for dinner, I see one of my people on the side of the road. A gentlemen in a Cowboys jersey. Two things one must understand about this story. The first is that it is a sin to be a Cowboys fan in DC or a Redskins fan in TX. I have lived a majority of my life in the Nations Capital and not one day of that life have I spent rooting for the Skins. And to top it off, I HATE skins fans. Now, that being said, I love my friends. Some of them have terrible faults in being Redskins fans, but there are two days a year in which we are not friends. Those two days are the days that the Redskins play the Cowboys. I just think that Redskins fans are bandwagon fans and not true to their team. When their team sucks, they bad mouth them and find a substitute team to route for, but when they are good, holy crap, it's like the second coming. People start coming out of the woodwork. It's like if the Redskins won the lottery and the fans are the leaches that start calling you out of the blue to see if you could spare some cash. I just don't have anything nice to say about Redskins fans.
The second, almost more interesting part of this story is that the guy was wearing a Jason Witten jersey. Okay, I HEART Jason Witten. Want to marry Jason Witten, if he weren't already married. I wouldn't buy a jersey with his name on it, but the most peculiar point of this jersey wearer was that he was black. I am in no way saying that wearing jerseys is a black or white issue, but I almost got into an accident craning my neck to make sure I saw what I saw. I have honestly NEVER in my life seen anyone besides redneck crackas wearing white guy player jerseys. I mean, I have a whole issue with people that wear jerseys anyway and I feel that unless you are playing the game yourself, 10 years old or younger, or wearing a kick ass Troy Aikman jersey, as a girl, should you wear a jersey. And please God, under no circumstance should that jersey be pink, bedazzled, or have YOUR name on the back. But I just found it so odd the particular jersey that that man had on. I feel like he was almost making two death wishes on one bike ride.
Okay, back to work, my boss can be such a jerk sometimes :)

Karma

I'm a huge believer in karma. I guess I better be, or the tattoo on my wrist actually says I like small boys and in that case, I'm in some serious trouble. I mean, I also believe in God, but what else allows you to control your own destiny by what you put out into the universe? Good or bad it's out there, and most of the time, it can be a bitch. I guess I must have pissed the universe off something fierce because it came after me yesterday. Let's start with the movers. To begin this story I must start off with our history of one another. Eight months ago I found these movers on Craigs list who were the cheapest rate I've ever seen. I was a little hesitant to call them at first, but got over that fear when I knew that my cousin and her boyfriend would be there in the event that they showed up with a big white van and wanted me to help them move the couch into the back of it. These guys had moved me from my third story apartment into my house in under two hours. It was kind of amazing. So, of course I was going to recommend them to anyone that asked if I knew of any good local movers. Well, upon my finalizing my plans to leave the great state of North Carolina, I called upon these movers again. I originally called when I set my move dated and they immediately called back and confirmed. I called again last week to make sure they had the address and that we were ready to go. Again, owner Johnny called me back and confirmed that everything was on for 2 pm Sunday the 8th. Upon a conversation I had with Erin, who I recommended these movers to for her move the week before, she informed me that they were done so early with the move before hers that they showed up an hour and a half early. I was pumped at the possibilities. So I woke up around 10, did the last load of laundry so that I could unhook the washer and dryer upon their arrival. Noon came and went. No problem, sometimes moves on the weekends take a little longer. Plus it's hot and I'm sure they needed rest. As the 2 o'clock hour was approaching I was finally done getting everything together for the guys so all I had to do was sit and wait....and sit and wait....and sit and wait. At 2:30 I finally call Johnny to find out what was going on.
ME: Hey Johnny, this is Katherine Galanty, um, I was wondering if your movers were falling a little behind. They were supposed to be here at 2.
JOHNNY: Hold on let me get the book.
Please note that Hold on did not mean that I was put on hold or mute or anything that would require me not to hear the next part.
JOHNNY: (off mic but still listenable) Oh shit..... hello mam. Yeah, I remember talking to you, but I completely forgot to put you down in the schedule.
ME: I'm sorry, what? What does that mean exactly?
JOHNNY: I'm going to send someone out to you in the next 30-45 minutes.
ME: Fine.
So, as I wait, I sit and wonder how long this trip back to NoVa is actually going to take me. At 2:55 my phone rings again
JOHNNY: Yes mam, it's Johnny again, we're about 20 minutes away from your house. Did I need to bring a hand truck or a third guy?
ME: You could bring both if you wanted, but you're going to need the hand truck.
While we're in this intermission, let me explain to you where these guys were coming from. You know how they say that in LA you can get anywhere in 20 minutes? Yeah, we're not in LA, however the drive should have only taken 20 minutes, tops. At 3:50 I still had not heard from them, so I call him. No answer! At 4:12 they finally show up and Johnny wants to talk to me about everything that has been going on all week and how he could possibly forget this. Less talky more worky Johnny. Everyone has shit they have to deal with, you have one job AND you called back to confirm. So, after an hour and 14 minutes, yes I timed them, I am faced with a total 2 hour charge for them forgetting the move all together, then being 2 hours late, and I recommended you to someone else. Needless to say, I was a little irritated. And I wish this was the end of my story, but alas it is not. With the family truckster fully loaded, I pack the pooch in last and with a quick Spackle driveby we are on our way. I would tell the cigar portion of the story, but that's just a minor irritant in the whole nightmare which was yesterday. We are cruising along. Making really good time and I'm thinking that we might actually make it home by 11. Until we hit Petersburgh. To those of you who haven't made the drive to the DC area along 85, Petersburgh is the point in which 85 meets 95 and you know you are almost there. Unless you are hit with a bevy of tail lights that halt your forward progress. Luckily, I've taken this road enough and both my sister and brother have spent time in this area, so I know some shortcuts. I take one and it works. I'm back on 95 and using the cruise control once again. About 12 miles outside of Fredericksburg I am smacked in the face once again by a sea of red. This time there were no warning signs or arrows or flashing lights to indicate a construction scene. Just red tail lights. So we sit....For an hour and a half.....And only go 2 miles. My phone is dying, I'm tired of sitting down, and Princess Buttercup next to me is antsy. Oh, and now it's 11 pm. As I look around me, because if you thought the mall was good people watching, try being stuck in traffic for an hour and a half, I discover a bumper sticker on the car to my left. "My inner child is a mean little flicker". I'm like, what in the world is a flicker? Upon closer inspection, the li is really a u and the following thoughts are flooded into my head. 1. I would have loved to be in that pitch meeting when that creative genius came to the table with that saying. I bet this guy thought he was going to be the next "Don't worry be happy" or "I believe in whirled peas". He was going to make millions off this saying. They would be on every t-shirt, key chain and bumper sticker lining the Jersey Shore. 2. As a consumer of this bumper sticker, did you take into account that you just spent your hard earned paycheck or allowance money on this piece of garbage. If you were to breakdown how long it took you to earn that bumper sticker, would you have bought it? Wouldn't it have been just as affected to take those two dollar bills and light them on fire? 3. Hey, dumbass, next time you get a bumper sticker, might want to put it on your bumper OR your window. Placing it on the actual car is going to be impossible to take off. So, if and when you decide to get rid of that lovely piece of machinery that you're driving around, you are going to have to figure out a way to get that work of art off it. 4. When is it okay to cuss on a bumper sticker? I mean, you can't cuss on TV before 9 pm, you can't watch porn on your portable DVD players in your cars, so why is it okay to be that tacky on your car? And please don't play the freedom of speech card because it wasn't your actual saying. Someone else wrote it, God forbid. Is it really necessary to create that bumper sticker, buy that bumper sticker and display it? Aren't there other ways to let people know about your inner child. Something tells me that upon meeting you one would figure it out right away. Oh and side note, guy riding around with the Calvin peeing on the Chevy symbol, 1992 called and they want Calvin back. Yes, this is actually how I spent the entire hour and a half. So, I would like to send a letter to VDOT, thanking them for all of this entertainment, but I'm not sure it's appropriate. I thought I would let you all see what I was going to send first.
Dear Virginia Department of Transportation,
Upon deciding to close 2 of your 3 lanes of traffic for construction, please make sure that your state workers are not just standing around in circle jerk formation trying to decide whether they need to lean left or reach right. I mean, there was a guy PUSHING his broken down car that was moving faster than I was.
In the event of this happening to me again, I promise you that I am going to hit one of your workers with my car and have a clean conscience about it. I would not intend to kill him, but to at least have someone doing something other than standing around laughing at all the people driving their cars.
Sincerely,
Micheale
I figured if I signed it as one of the DC housewives, I might get away with it. True story though, there was a guy pushing his car faster than I was driving. I felt awful for him and if I had the ability to get into my trunk, I would have helped the guy out.
In closing, I would like to apologize to you, universe, for obviously pissing off YOUR inner child. The next time that someone decides to drink a beer, in my house in record setting time, I will recycle it instead of throwing it in the trash because it was convenient.

moving and packing, packing and moving

Is there anything in the world worse than packing? Okay besides fighting in a war or living with a terrible illness, or mourning the loss of a loved one? I wasn't trying to go the Debbie Downer route, but I guess I had to realistic here. It seems that the majority of my retirement days have been spent moving and packing and packing and cleaning and sweating and chasing and pretty much everything that I didn't want to spend my first few days doing. I'm only one person and I have a ton of stuff. I mean a TON of stuff. I spent 6 hours yesterday packing my kitchen. That's right my kitchen. Keep in mind that I only just moved into this house a mere 8 months ago so the first purge has already happened. I've been keeping a mental checklist of all the things that I've done in the four days of not working.
1. Been woken up 3 times at 6:30 in the morning and got to sleep in until 7:30 this morning. Upon going back to sleep, I am promptly again woken up by 9 am b/c I suppose my four legged friend just isn't wanting me to sleep much longer.
2. Not having internet in my house sucks! I've been to one Starbucks, Deweys twice, and now I'm sitting in Borders b/c I figured that no loud mouth person can come in and be on the phone here. By the way, of all the places that I have pirated Wifi, I want to give a shout out to my friends at Borders. Not only do they not question what you're doing in their establishment, but they bring around cafe samples of cookie dough coolada. Instead of moving back to my parents, I might just stay in Borders.
3. Doing P90x when you want too, at the times you want to, and if you want to makes a huge difference. Tony isn't annoying me as much and instead of feeling like I have to get up and do the exercise, I actually welcome it b/c it doesn't involve a box or a dog.
4. I have conveniently run out of cereal and lunch meat all in the same day. However, I do still have milk and bread. But, at the same time, I packed my bowls so even if I went to go buy cereal, I still wouldn't have a place to put it. I'm still here until Sunday afternoon. I'm going to have to teach someone to sleep longer so I can get closer to lunch time. There are only so many cheese sandwiches and glasses of milk one girl can drink in the morning.
5. Upon leaving this house I have made three trips to Goodwill and thrown out three baking sheets, two pans, almost all my Tupperware, and after 6 hours, I STILL have shit in the dishwasher to put in a box. And I moved 8 months ago? Really?!?!?!?
6. I have spent no less than $40 on bubble wrap and packing tape. I got my boxes for free and ended up spending all my dough on bubble wrap and tape! Who knew so little could cost so much?
7. I have consumed no less than 1 billion calories since "retiring". I have managed to eat dinner out every night this week and without the lunch meat situation, we might be looking at lunch as well.
8. For one person, have I mentioned how much crap I have? My entire guest room is filled with boxes and furniture. I haven't even started on my room. I figured I would procrastinate as much as possible today. Besides a book on starting your own doggie day care and maybe the book club book I don't plan on walking out of here with very many purchases, but I do plan on spending as much time as possible.
9. If any state wants to ban texting and driving (and they all should) you should make all phones touch screens. Me and my new phone are like taking a penguin and sticking him in Africa. I'm like a new baby learning to walk. It's a fun walk, but I feel like a giant retard.

I honestly can't wait for the fun to start. Everyone keeps asking me how not working is and if I have to spend the rest of my days packing and moving, count me out!

Bittersweet

Oh where to begin this blog addition?!?!? I have had so much go on in the past few days that I can't be sure what to focus all my attention on. But I suppose first things should be first. Last Friday was the last day of work for me. This would mean that for the past 17 years, I have consistantly had a job and today would be the first time in all those years that I don't have a clue as to where my income will be coming from. People keep asking me if I'm nervous or scared that I have no idea what I'm doing, and in all honesty, I'm not. It actually terrifies me that I'm not scared. I just can't believe that I'm only 32 years old and got burnt out from doing the same thing for the past ten years so quickly. I couldn't exactly pinpoint the exact moment when I realized that I could throw caution into the wind and wing it, but I have full confidence that whatever is supposed to happen, will happen. I've never been much of a risk taker and this is a HUGE deal for me. I don't want to bore you with everything I've done on my first day off because it would be the most unexciting thing you've ever read. But, if it helps, I am totally questioning not having internet and sitting in the local coffee shop typing this, while Susie Applebee worker is on the phone with her boyfriend complaining about insurance. Not to go off on a tangent, but there are a few places where it just annoys the crap out of me when people are on their phone. 1. Airport/airplane. You know that everyone can hear your conversation and I truly wonder if something is that important as having to stay on your phone until the last possible second when the doors are closing. From what I can hear, it can wait. 2. a place that is supposed to quiet and relaxing. I have no idea where else you might be able to go, but honestly, besides checking my email, I'm assuming that people come here to unwind and relax. Why else would Kenny G be blasting from the speakers? 3. When you're on the phone in a car. Is there a reason that you have to pick up your phone while I'm sitting there talking? I'm seriously trying to get off the phone and you are certainly helping the situation by talking about something.....totally sidetracked, small child in the store with ice cream ALL over his face. Absolutely adorable, completely forgot what I was talking about. Rant complete. Oh wait, Susie is still talking, back on track. Whatever, the faster I type the faster I can get out of here and get started with the packing. So, day one of the jobless vacation I was lucky enough to head down to Greenville, South Carolina with Auntie Nicole for what we hoped would be the wedding of the century. We got a bit of a late start, hit traffic, and rain, but had a BLAST in the car. We were dancing and singing to everything from Tiffany to Mary Poppins. Quiet possibly the best 3 hour road trip, EVER. It was so much fun. Had to jam lunch in our pie holes so we had enough time to pre-game with the wine I brought. Yes, I brought wine to pre-game to a wedding with. While getting ready, I received a text "Chips is here". Chips?!?!?!? A story that very few of you know. A few years ago I was hanging out with this guy. I can't say we were actually dating, because according to 8th grade rules, dating would require one to leave ones house. But anyway, he was cute so I let him stick around. Well, bestie Laura came into town and he wanted to meet us out for dinner. So we met him over at a local restaurant where he had already ordered chips while he was waiting. We showed up with another one of my friends, sat down and he offered us some chips. We ate them, of course, I mean we were hungry. When it came time for the bill Laura had offered to pick up the chips since we ate some AND HE LET HER! I couldn't have been more embarrassed if you actually paid me money at that exact moment. Needless to say, he has had this nickname ever since. He's come around every now and then, I guess whenever he's in between dating his other victim. I saw him a few months ago when he randomly called and "was in the neighborhood". So my shock and disbelief that he was in the exact same place that I was, was very surprising. I was trying not to let it get to me, but I feel like I had ownership over this situation. Well, we make it to the chapel, in the nik of time, might I add and end up sitting DIRECTLY BEHIND HIM. I mean come on! There are like 25 rows of pews and we pick the seats right behind him? I wanted to vomit. Of course his girl was leaning over and whispering to her friend, but there was nothing I could do. If I could have made myself invisible, I would have. The worst part of this whole situation is that she is a kick ass chick. I would totally want to be friends with her, if this douche bag didn't get in the way. Well, I couldn't have run out of that chapel fast enough and get back to the alcohol. I needed it now, more than ever. Who knew that I would drink so much and forget to have water? I kept wondering why I didn't feel any different, but that I kept drinking and drinking and drinking. And then he comes up and talks to me at the reception. Really?!?!?!? I could have been okay the rest of the night and really the rest of my life, if you hadn't said anything. It just puts more of a target on me when he comes over. Seriously, don't do me any favors. You were a terrible kisser anyway. And I'm kind of convinced that you're gay. So, long story short, I got hammered. Was in bed by 10 and yesterday was possibly one of the worst days of my life. You can't go big when you're in your 30's. You can't drink beer like it's water and think that you're just going to skate by. At 3:30 in the morning I felt as if someone had snuck into my room and hit me over the head with a rusty bag of nickles. I felt that my head might actually explode. Closing my eyes just meant that the room would start spinning again, so I turn the TV on, to try and distract myself, from what I think might be the last day of my life. I find some Lockup prison show and figure if anything is going to break me away from reality, it'll be prison. It worked for a little bit until I felt everything I ate since I was 3 years old working its way up my system to what I would hope would be just the toilet. So, for the next 2.5 hours I lived between the bathroom floor (God I hope that was clean) and the bed at the Hyatt. All I wanted was for someone to come and cuddle with me and rub my head. That's all I required at that exact moment. And the rest of the day just pretty much felt the same. Apparently I do weddings really really well, but the moral of the story is that this girl should really bring a date to any wedding that she attends so that someone can keep her in check. Congrats Jones, you throw one hell of party. Next time put a cap on what this girl can drink :)