One box at a time

Trying to get my things unpacked and I just couldn't help myself...

Washing my hands

Got my apartment emptied yesterday! Yayyyy! So glad to have that off my plate! I also found out that I have been officially released from lease and my re-let is satisfied, meaning all I have to do is turn in the keys to hell. W00t!

It took us about a half a day. A asked me if I was sad that all of my stuff fits in a Dodge van.

...No, not really. My stuff is everywhere in his apartment, and I have more stuff in Birmingham! I talked to Mum yesterday. I'm going to splurge on a u-Haul and get some of my stuff from Birmingham and an entertainment center from Montgomery. A dresser and an entertainment center is our wagon-wheel coffee table. But it's worth the trip. :) A is being such a good sport. Yesterday was a hard day and I should do something special for him. Stress has made me an evil monster and I don't like that. He has been so wonderful and supportive of me, I need to make extra sure I'm showing him how much I appreciate him.

Pricing at u-haul doesn't make much sense. To pick up a truck in Montgomery and drop off in Tuscaloosa is $294, 151 miles, and 1 day of use. To pick up in Tuscaloosa and return to Tuscaloosa is $100, 400 miles, and 3 days of use. ....the obvious choice is the latter... but I honestly expected the former to be the cheaper.

I'm so relieved to have this stress off of my mind! I can't for the words! I don't have to deal with those crazy girls anymore! I'm too old for that kind of environment. The more we move forward with this decision, the more I become reassured that A and I made the right choice; whether we preferred this timing or not, it was the right choice.

Confession: It felt really good to take the shower curtain...yeah, that was probably my favorite part... Don't judge yet (Meme). It's my curtain, I bought it, it's re-usable, and I plan on putting it up in our bathroom! However, C came in as I was leaving and went in the bathroom. I heard her shut the door and then heard her sliding the curtain that was left back and forth. Mentally I could just hear her saying, "that bitch" and I couldn't help but giggle inside. She's lucky A was there to stop me from taking the rings that held up the curtains. Those are mine, too, I don't need them, and A got me to admit I'd only take those for spite...

I can see my grandmother reading this thanking God that A was there to keep me from being vengeful and laughing at the same time. So maybe I won't tell the story about how I was drinking a beer while tearing down the shelving unit (that's mine) that shelved all of their pots and pans.

I'm not percolating

As you may already know, I'm Methodist and it's Lent. This means I had to give up something. Something that's a sacrifice. None of this giving up Lent for Lent stuff! So I gave up....coffee! *Dum-Dum-DUMMMMMMMM!!!!*

I know... shocker.... Mum said, "You really went with the sacrifice this year!"

Just to be clear, I gave up coffee, not caffiene, or else I would be leading the assualt for the UN in Libya right now and probably be dead. Today is marking the start of the second full week and two things were not what I expected them to be:
1. I didn't take into account that daylight saving time began the first Sunday after Lent. Fail.
2. I thought hot tea would be supplement enough. Not really.

I drive past a Starbucks now and drool like a rabid dog.

In other news, so far I have saved approximately $130.... #winning

Who's Blonde?

So I decided to change my hair color! It was random. I've always wanted to see what I would look like as a brunette and got a wild hair up my ass and decided to try it.

So last week I bought a bottle of hair color. However, I should've consulted someone who's colored hair before consider I've never colored my own hair. What's helpful to know is that when one has a lot of hair (like I do) sometimes, one bottle of Garnier is not enough! Sometimes when you have thick, long locks (like I do), you require TWO bottles to get the job done.

And as brilliant as I am, I decided to get this wild hair at 10 o'clock at night.

So when my roommates come in to see what I'm doing, one mentions, "Is that enough hair color??"

"Uhhh...."

"Stephanie, you need more hair color..."

My hair was only half way saturated when the bottle emptied. So while one roommate and I were stretching the color as far as it would go, the other two roommates were trying to find a place in town that was still open and had my hair color...

There wasn't a place open that also had my hair color. Big fat zero in that part of the Venn Diagram. So while Auburn was making their undeserving comeback in overtime against Clemson (oh so close!), I was rinsing hair color out of my hair for the second time this week. And that is why I love my friend, T, because she helped me put $20 worth of hair color in my hair to make it much darker than before, and I think A is happy with it, too. Yay, for happy endings!

The Gift

Me: Hey, Mum, guess what!

Mum: Hey, Stepper, what's up?

Me: I just saved a ton of money on my textbooks!

Mum: Really? How'd you do that?

Me: I didn't buy them from the University and rented two. I was supposed to pay nearly $600, saved over $300. I only spent $240 on the books I need this semester! I'm so excited!

Mum: That's great! Way to go! Guess what!

Me: Uhh.. what?

Mum: G got you something.

Me thinking: My stepdad bought me something?

Me: G bought me something?

Mum: Yeah! A taser!

Me: A taser? I'm confused.

Mum: Yeah! He got me one and thought it would be a good idea to get you one, too. Said he was worried about you walking around town by yourself!

Me: Mum, I don't know how to use a taser.

Mum: It's easy. Just point and touch. Skin, preferably.

Me: Uhhh.... Thanks! I can't wait to not have to use it! I can't wait to play with it!

I like to ride my bicycle

The thing that I love about the summer time is how out of nowhere, a rainstorm can hit.

Like today for example.

Perfect day for a lazy bike ride. I had no intentions of really pushing myself. Just a good hot, sunny summer day to jump on my bike and ride. It's my newest addiction. I've been going to spin classes pretty regularly lately and have loved them! I didn't get to go this past week so to make up for it, I thought I'd go for a ride around town and just have some good healthy me time on my bike! Until I got downtown...

I noticed the big, dark cloud way in the distance when I left. In the five minutes it took me to peddle down the ominous hill that got me started going to spin classes in the first place, the ominous cloud was gaining speed. I kept peddling thinking that I could at least make it into town.

By the time I got to the strip, it became a race: who was going to make it back to my place faster? Me or this storm?

Then I heard thunder!

I peddled my ass off and made it back up the hill in record time. Didn't get a drop of rain on me. By the time I made it to my stairs, the rain began to pour.

That's when I decided to play on Blogger a bit and found the new templates. I was ready for a face lift anyway. What do ya think??

This is how I tweet

This is sad... OK no it's not... it's hilarious!

http://tweetstats.com/graphs/StephOfOz

I have a Twin

Latest message in my email today:

Is it right?

Stranger: I'm not sure if I'm right or not. Anyway is this you right :D
?? i mean u know me ? .....Giza !!???? is you really or you just
look like her :D ?

Me: i don't think you have the right girl. I'm sorry!

Stranger: so don't you live in Egypt ?????

Me: No i live in the states

Stranger: sorry Stephanie but you look like her so much.
nice to meet you ;) thanks

The one where he got my number

I've been wanting to write this one for awhile.

Several weeks back, my friends threw me a "Freedom Party," for lack of a better term.

I had just found out that my divorce was final and was ex tactic! Free! Free!! Free!!! After several months of unending headaches, I finally was divorced. So we celebrated at a local bar in town where a band was playing.

The band, who is coming to town again soon and I can't wait to go see again, found out that I was newly single. At the same time, in the bar with us was a bachelorette party. Now, this is the part of the evening that, yes, is a bit groggy. A bit, a bit.

I was dressed in a black shirt and tight jeans. The stress I've been through has done wonders for the body, I tell you! My friend, who threw this party for me, was wearing nothing but a bra/vest type deal and even tighter jeans. Hate her...she pulled it off!!! Up on the stage we're pulled, shots being passed around everywhere.

I look over to my right and on stage with me is this poor, pitiful looking bride. I wanted to slap sense into her like someone should have done to me. My friend grabbed the microphone, screamed, "DON'T DO IT!" as the innocent was being introduced. She looked so happy; taking advantage of the last thread of wild in her. The crowd gave a clap while she raised her drink and spun around, holding the clumsy veil on her head.

I thought, "You look like you're about to be sacrificed." Meanwhile, I heard my name called.

"And this girl, ladies and gentlemen, very big night for her. While the other girl is getting married next week, Stephanie, is celebrating her divorce!!!" The next thing I know, the room is going A.P.E.S.H.I.T!!!! More drinks are being passed around, someone is dancing with me onstage, I'm getting high fives and congratulations...

It was crazy!!

Finally, I get back to my table after the journey of high fives and shots. How I hadn't fallen in my high heels is beyond me.

About that time, a very tall guy comes our way. I knew for certain he headed for my friend. I brushed him off until he sat next to me and leaned in.

"Crazy night, huh?"

"Yeah," I was pretty shy about meeting new people. Give me a break. It'd been a few months but meeting people in a bar was definitely not on my top ten things to do. "It's good to get out and have some fun, tho!!"

He had on a ball cap and a pressed polo shirt. His crooked little smile made his eyes sparkle a bit. But it was very dark, making out his face again would be difficult. I looked down and started playing with my phone.

"Hey, I like that phone!" He pointed to my toy. "Can I see it a sec?"

"Uh, sure?"

"So, are you from here?"

"Not originally."

He looked up from my phone a moment, "You don't sound southern."

"Well, I am...just not good with the accent!" I laughed. Sometimes I tend to sound a bit Yankee. I get made fun of for it, too.

"Well, I just put my number in your phone. Text me sometime!"

What the hell?!

Oh Holy Hell!!!

Just to make things more awkwardly hysterical, one of the persons in the previous post has a blog, and it took two clicks from my blog to find her!!

Does that mean it will take two clicks from her page to find me??

I have Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome

This week has been filled with nothing but awkward moments. Two in particular that left the room filled with that silent moment where everyone was looking at the elephant in the room.

Recently, about once a week, I've been meeting my friend Heather for coffee. I love Heather. She is one of the sweetest, most genuine people in the world. She's probably the best friend a person could have! During one of our weekly coffee jaunts, she mentioned her study group was starting a movie study. It would begin Tuesday and the girls would watch Fried Green Tomatoes. I love that movie! Bud-dyyyy!!! Can't watch it and not cry.

Tuesday, she picks me up and we go to her friends house. We were early (yes, it is in writing that I was early somewhere) and one other woman came in shortly after us.

I didn't pay her much attention, other than our hairstyles were quite similar. Lots of waves, shoulder length and hers was red. She was older than me and had a welcoming face.

"Stephanie, this is Kristen, she's my attorney," Heather introduced.

Bell is ringing.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you. What's your firm?"

"Kristen Love," she answered. DING DING DING DING

Stephanie, don't say what you're about to say!! "I thought you looked familiar! You're one of the first attorneys I visited when I was getting my divorce!"

Doh!!!

Last night capped my "Insert Foot Here" moments when an old co-worker came into town for a visit.

Not having seen my friend in months, I really wanted to go out with everyone to go get a drink and catch up. At some point, we landed at The Booth, where an acquaintance was having her birthday party. I don't know her very well, I used to work with her late brother. However, I did frequent her salon to get my hair done, and that's where I was introduced to one of my favorite hairstylists ever.

If you're not a girl, you don't understand. Let me give you an idea. Hair is expensive. Thick hair like mine is even more expensive to cut and color. I don't go often and am always looking for someone who can do a good job for less than $50. It's very difficult to find. Until I met Jennifer who does an awesome job and under $50! She rocks! I also liken it breaking up with someone when I leave a good hair stylist. I didn't tell Rachel I wasn't going to see her anymore.

Whilst sipping my beer, I looked over my shoulder, and hear, "Why did you stop seeing me?!!!"

Shit! "I was broke?"

The one where Stephanie takes an Ambien...

I have advice for you. If you are instructed to take any sleep medication called Ambien, take it exactly as prescribed. In fact, if your doctor gives you a prescription, as for a lower dose! Then, follow his directions very closely; never stray. It's vital that you never go more than two months between dosages as well. The results can be rather...embarrassing.

I had a long weekend. It was an awesome, fantastic weekend. It was Mother's Day! I had family time, friend time, social activities! I even sold half a car! It was a very pleasant and memorable weekend.

It was also tiring, and I don't have the best time sleeping and staying asleep these days. That is why I have Ambien.

I don't like this medication. It works, I sleep, however, I wake up feeling like I am a bottle of whiskey rather than having had a full nights sleep. Also, I've heard of the nightmares that can happen while on this drug. From people talking to walls, sleepwalking, even driving somewhere while asleep! I make sure to take it when I can devote more than 9 hours to sleep!

That was last night. I had 9 hours to sleep, despite the few hours left until the beginning of my work week. At 8:45 pm, I took my little white pill, made sure my door was locked, hid my keys, grabbed my dog and laid in the bed. At 6:00 am this morning, I woke up, groggy and hung over, and looked through my phone for any missed messages. I didn't remember much of the previous night, however, my friend, M, did. This is what I found out:

Usual morning text to M, "Good Morning!"

M: Good Morning! How was your Ambien sleep?

Me: Uhh..Good? Slept hard, lots of dreams!

Oh shit! I talked in my sleep!

Me: OMG I TALKED IN MY SLEEP DIDN'T I??!

M: Yes. You did.

Me: About what??

M: Mardi Gras, archbishops, fishing. U said the room was crowded with people in mardi gras costumes. U likd the white padded and crystal rooms.

Me: Fishing!!?

M: You said Ambien had a little car that took you from room to room and you want to find the cyrstal room again.

M: The xmen were hanging banners and wanted 2 b treated normal, the guy in the chair wouldn't stop staring at u, there were 2 kids playing b ball, ne going fishin

M: People on the mountain singing, u were at Target, you couldn't get Ambien's car started...

Me: I'm so embarrassed!

M: Don't be!

Me: Why didn't you hang up on me?!

M: You were cute and you said that you didn't want me to hang up!

Me: LMAO! I was obviously asleep! I'd have never known!! How long did I talk???

M: An hour.

Burned. Out.

If you have anything Pampered Chef, then you know what a Micro Cooker is. If you don't, let me define it.

Micro Cooker: God's gift to the cooking impaired.
Cooking Impaired: Me!

I cook everything in my micro cooker! EVERYTHING! Chicken, rice, you name it! It's the cooker to end all cookers!!
And it's dirty.

This morning, I was in a rush and didn't really have to thoroughly clean my micro cooker but I really wanted chicken to go on my salad for lunch. It was a quarrel amongst myself. Clean the micro cooker or bake the chicken; and both took too long!

Last night, I marinated my chicken, I tenderized my chicken. I had it ready to go!! And all I had to do was put it in the micro cooker. It's just this black plastic bowl with a lid - I thought surely my corningwear would substitute just fine!

So, into the microwave it went. I shut the door and punched in the buttons; 10-12 minutes should do. I'll check on it at the 11 mark.

I ran back into the bathroom to finish getting ready for work. My hair dryer has been sparky lately and my hair takes a lot longer to dry than it has before, so I never knew it when I was way past minute 12...until I smelled the smoke.

By now I was dressed for work and running late. I saw the smoke billowing from the microwave. Not again I thought. I pulled open the black machine to find the entire inside of my microwave caked in marinade. Lying on the now crusty glass was my chicken, not a third the size it used to be, charcoal black.

Lesson I learned? I only catch things on fire at my apartment. Evidence that it's not me - it's the apartment!!!

And for all of you who asked on my Twitter and Facebook pages, THAT is how you set chicken on fire!

Much ado about Neighbors

I am going to the gym twice a day now. I really rather enjoy it. Honestly, I can't say I go twice a day, everyday, however, I can say that majority of my free time is now spent at the gym!

Why on earth would you spend so much free time there!! you ask??

It's simple.

My downstairs neighbors are loud. Not just noisy, but L.O.U.D.

For example; yesterday, I come in from Calera in the evening around 9. I live in a predominately quiet area, until you get to my front door. I run up the stairs, slide in my key. Somebody sure is thumpin'! I think. Open the door, flip on the light and realize, Oh, that's my neighbor!

Currently, they are watching a montage of music videos. I just heard some Johnny Cash. Right now, it's a heavy metal song I haven't ID'd yet.

Why haven't you don't something about this??! Oh the craziness of that idea! If I had money for every time I've called the police on them and they still not turn the volume down, I wouldn't have to work anymore. And the landlord? She has sent letters and made phonecalls.

Why can't they get the point?? I think they are now turning things up out of spite! If I hadn't of already called the police on them a few hundred times, I might take initiative to knock on their door and say, "Turn that down!!" Instead, I spend most of my evenings at the gym so by the time I get home, they are already in bed asleep!!

It hasn't been all that bad, though...Right...The other night they had a party. I think it was a Mardi Gras party. Several of their friends came over and they sang karaoke till midnight! It was a great time had by all! Especially when I was in my room on the other end of my apartment and they were still in the living room singing Pearl Jam for the 8th time. Did you know drunk men tend to sing the same song over and over again?? I didn't! And the following night, they listened to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, which is my favorite Pink Floyd album - seriously! So that night wasn't too awfully bad.

It's nights like right now where I wish I could be like Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men and take a remote to their window and turn down their TV and stereo...

So I got shot in the ass the other day...

I have a new theory. I'm sure several people nationally, globally, even universally share this theory with me. 

I had Laryngitis this week. Well, actually, it started a week ago today, the day before the race. I have been squeaking everywhere!

Tuesday, I had a day off from work. That morning, I squeaked to the doctor's office and held up my notepad. 

"I have no voice," it read.

The nurse behind the counter peered up at me like a librarian trying to see above her reading glasses. She was trying not to laugh but couldn't help it. By Tuesday, I was a little irritated. I'd been going around with a notepad for three days and it's not always the best way to get some one's attention. So to say I was slightly annoyed when she answered the phone instead of handing me the insurance forms to fill out would be polite.

"I made an appointment?" I wrote down. She just nodded her head and handed me the clipboard. 

I sighed and took a seat in the waiting room. It was filled with a plethora of people. This was my second visit to this doctor's office. The first time was three years ago, for the same problem. Think I should have my tonsils taken out? The room hadn't changed a bit. It was the same grouping of chairs, positioned against the same blue walls. The chairs lined the walls and the entrance as if to divide the room in to two groups: the sick and the non-sick. 

After several minutes of being forced FoxNews and how terrible our economy is (bullshit!), I finally heard my name called to the back.

Following the same procedures as last time, and using my trusty notepad, I told the doctor what was ailing me. He called for the xray, a shot in my ass, some cough syrup and some antibiotics.

He also asked me if I'd ever broken my nose.

"No," I wrote down.

"Are you sure?"

I looked at him puzzled. "I think I would remember that..." I jotted down quickly. "Why?"

"Oh, cause you're nose is crooked," answer the ENT Dr. like it was no big deal. He pulled up the xray and flipped the switch. His pen flew up to where my nostrils were printed on the film. "See, you're nose leans to the left."

I came here because I lost my voice! "And?" I mouthed out.

He shrugged, "No, biggie, just curious."

He wrote down the Rx's and handed them to me. Then he quickly pulled out a second sheet of paper that mimicked the Rx form. It was the same shape, font and style.

"Now you know, with this antibiotic, there is a strong chance you'll have some 'feminine issues'?" he asked.

I shook my head. I didn't understand where he was going.

"Just make sure you eat plenty of yogurt, take your vitamins and drink you're orange juice." He handed me the second sheet and I quickly glanced to the point of his warning. The word "yeast" jumped off the page.

This is where the theory comes in to play: Explain to me how an antibiotic prescribed to treat and 'infection' can cause an 'infection'?????????

I stumped you didn't I???

Pray for me

I am doing something new and different.

Something I have never done before.

I am trying something that means binding of the chest area.

I am going to try Jiu-Jitsu. Oh, yeah, baby! Don't mess with me!

Pray I don't break anything. The race is in less than two weeks! And I have a perpetual foot cramp. I'm getting very nervous! But I'm excited about learning how to kick your ass!!

A first for all women everywhere

I got a new pair of jeans!

I got a smaller pair of jeans!

I feel like the girl in the yoplait commercials, "Yeah, I need you to take these in."

The best part was the record timing and fittings!

I took a tissue. I don't do well buying clothes. Typically, on any given clothes shopping experience, I leave crying. I hate trying on clothes and flourescents lights are evil. Just evil!

I went to the juniors section first to see if size "Whale" had become available yet. It has!! And the size "Whale" were on size, too! It was great. I got several pair to try on in the fitting rooms. I made it to the fitting rooms, prepping myself for a few tears and didn't cry! It was great. The first pair set the evening, though.

I slide them on, zip them up and did the sit test. You know, the test where you sit down in the fitting room to make sure that you don't show ass crack everywhere you go? Yeah, all the pants I brought F.A.I.L.E.D!! I really didn't even have to sit. They pants didn't make it above the crack. Who thinks that low is cute?! How do you sit? No wonder they were on sale!

So I leave those in the room, walk out, think about leaving but decide to try one more pair. A different cut but not waist high.

I walked back in, pulled them up and then the angels sang.

I found a new pair of jeans in two fittings and in under thirty minutes!

Top that!

In a small town in Alabama

Got a text from husband tonight: Going to Stephen's.

Me: Again?

That's two weeks in a row. After a bit of discussion and agreeing that he absolutely must start spending some time with me, his wife, I decided I was going out tonight.

First up on the agenda: dinner. What do I eat? When we were getting ready to close up shop at the dealership, I was listing all the different places to eat where it was kosher for people to sit by themselves. That left Panera Bread and the cafe in Barnes and Nobles. While both are absolutely delicious and I hardly ever turn down a good cup of tea, I can't really have a lot of bread, something that both the restaurants are known to furnish.

So I got to thinking about what sounded good and the first thing that popped into my head was some Thai food. But then I thought about how I want my dear, sweet, loving husband to take me to Surin Saturday night to make up for the lack of anniversary dinner on Thursday. (I'm not telling you that story so stop wondering.) I got a couple of my friends from work together and we decided on the next best thing: Sushi!

I love the sushi! Rainbow roll, tuna roll, nagiri (with the salmon); oh! Yum! One of the guys from work had never been to an actual sushi bar before and so we had to eat at the bar for the full experience. Kobe, the Japanese steak house and sushi bar, opened up a few months ago and I hadn't tried it yet; there is one in Birmingham and I had been wanting to see if this one was just as good. We decided to go there and give it a shot. We sit down, place our order and eat till the fish could reassemble in our stomachs and swim again! I must have had plenty of fish eggs floating in my eyes! I was so full!!

Then the wild hair crawled up my ass.

"Hey, William," William was enjoying his first experience in the sushi bar. "Have you ever tried octopus?"

"Only at the buffet." William has been know to frequent a local joint that serves buffet sushi, AKA crap with rice.

"If I order it, will you try it?"

"I'll eat anything!"

So I ordered octopus nagiri. The plate arrived and there it sat. William picked it up, dipped it in some soy sauce and stuffed it in his mouth. Five minutes later he was still chewing so I continued to wait to ask if it tasted alright. I've always wanted to try it, just a little afraid to.

"How is it?" I asked after a few more minutes of constant but slowing chewing.

"Not too bad," he answered between chomps, "Little chewy. Flavor's good."

OK...I picked up the last piece, dipped it and tried to take a bite out of half of the octopus. If you have ever had squid, that's the kind of chewy I tried to bite in half. It wasn't working so much for me. Finally, I was able to rip the piece in half. He was right, not too shabby of a taste, very chewy. Ten minutes later, I was able to swallow the food.

Later, we decided to go catch up with another friend of ours at a local karaoke bar. I rarely frequent these places and was expecting a younger crowd on a Friday night. I. was. wrong.

When we pulled up, the windows were tinted to block out anything going on inside. As we opened the door, cigarette smoke tumbled outside. There were two pool tables to my right where four middle-aged men, one in a leather jacket, stood staring at us with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. The bar was on our left and there was not one seat left empty. I think we were the youngest people they had seen in awhile; I thought for a second we'd hear a record screech. All eyes were on us.

"Hey! Over here!" screamed a familiar voice. I turned to find Jennifer, the only face I knew in the unfamiliar crowd. She introduced us to everyone at her table and we sat down to join the conversation. They were discussing whether to stay at this bar or go to another one, arguably a gay bar.

"It's not gay," one man at the table said. He was tall and slender and wearing a cowboy hat. He was probably in his mid to late forties. I wondered about the hat. "It's owned by two lesbians. It ain't no gay bar."

"Well let's go on over there then!" Answered the other man. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. He had salt and pepper hair and a thick mustache. He seemed a bit antsy to leave the bar we were in.

Next to him sat an older woman in pink scrubs. Her hair was cropped short and colored blond. She was nursing a glass of tequila, apparently not her first. She looked at William, "Are you singing tonight?"

"Oh, William loves to sing!" I intergected. "He has the most beautiful voice!"

I looked over at William while trying to stifle my laughs. I hadn't realized that he had the karaoke book in his hands already. He looked at me like he wished he'd had a beer bottle in his hands instead of the book. Pure fear in his eyes!

"What are you going to sing?" The woman asked him. I noticed her eyes were getting crooked; I didn't think she was sober...at all. She had a very heavy southern accent, as did all the other patrons. I felt like I was in a movie stereotype.

"Oh, William! Sing for her!" I interrupted again. "He'll bring tears to your eyes, I tell ya! He loves to sing Hal & Oates Kiss on my List!" The woman's eyes crossed even more as she processed my words and excitement showed in her smile.

Another man sitting next to the woman finally spoke up. "What are you going to sing, ma'am?" He also had on a cowboy hat, a flannel shirt and tight jeans. I'd bet a hundred dollars he had on cowboy boots but I never checked. He raised his eyebrows at me when I finally realized he was asking me his question.

"Oh," I thought quick, "I'm a mute."

"You're a wha?"

"I'm a mute."

"Oh," he looked dumb-founded. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, me too." Don't laugh! Don't laugh!

I looked at William again and wondered if he was going to play along, too. His face was beat red; I couldn't look at him so I turned to Jennifer who wasn't paying any attention to the conversation.

Everyone paid for their tab and we headed to, Angie's, the gay/not gay bar. I really didn't know what to expect after the first bar. I wasn't drinking since I'm training and everyone else but William was so I just tried to go with it. I'm from a much bigger city than Tuscaloosa originally so the idea of a gay bar was no big deal and the concept of one being in T-town really didn't seem realistic at all so I really had no clue what we were walking into.

Again, the doors were tinted, but not so much. When we walked inside, the dance floor was immediately in front of us with a stage on our left. Several tables were pushed together and the bar was in the far back. Music was playing and I recognized the song. It was Hootie and the Blowfish, Let her cry. I looked for the karaoke stand confused for a second; the song sounded too good.

All of a sudden a short, pink streak holding a microphone breezed past us. It was a short man with a pot belly in a hot. pink. polo. shirt. singing Hootie. He held the microphone and spun around the dance floor singing the song. He sounded just like Darius Rucker but I'm quite positive there was no resemblance. He looked like he was about to break into Broadway dance moves. Several in our group immediately had to go to the bathroom.

We sat down and I looked to my right where several women sat with there girlfriends. To my left, it was a mixture of older women in clothes several sizes too small mingled with men in cowboy hats and tight jeans. What a mix!

I still didn't know what to think. Fortunately, a basketball game was playing on a huge TV directly ahead of me so I focused on it to keep myself from laughing in people's faces.

Some of the same people from the first bar followed us to the new bar. They talked Jennifer into singing. I agreed to sing if William went first. Nobody else in our group had balls. I must admit, that was the first time I've done karaoke sober!

What's that over there!?

I am definitely ADD.

I sold my first car the other night. You can look at it one of two ways: I've been at the dealership for three years and it's taken me this long to sell my first car OR I'd been a salesman for approximately 3 hours and sold my first car. I prefer that later considering that was really the case.

Yay me!

Thing is, that was pure luck. Not every customer comes in with a sheet of paper with stock number scribbled on it and says, "I've come to buy this car." I wish it always happened that way.

In reality, I have to learn product. I know, another question, "How can be there three years and not know the product?" Well, let me tell you this! If you saw all the different specs and numbers and product codes and bla bla bla's there were to all the different models we have on our lot, you'd understand. My brain feels like one big fart right now.

I have taken to studying at every given opportunity. It's hard to study answers to questions you don't know you're going to get. It makes me wonder how I ever graduated high school!

I have a little book that someone told me has all the information in it that I need know. Great! I have sat down to look at this book a hundred times. I'm on page 9!

Everything keeps distracting me. If it's not another customer, it's that I have to use the bathroom. I might have to get something to eat, the phone rings, a customer comes in, or family has arrived. This morning, I was drinking some water and at the bottom where the glass was blown together (they are handmade glasses) reminded me of a monkey...that was the distraction this morning. I never would have noticed it if I hadn't been subliminally looking for an excuse to put the book down...

Oh, I don't miss school.

The Dream

Have you ever had those dreams where you think it's reality until you wake up?

Sometimes those are the best, however, the other night - not so much.

I had a few totties New Years Eve and slept so good. Oh, I wish I could sleep like that every night!

All of a sudden, I'm in the office of my home church. I walked into the
office and Barack Obama was sitting in the secretary's chair, smiling at me.

Oh, wow, Barack Obama is the new pastor and the new
secretary.

I walked through the office doors into the main part of the office, closer to
his desk.

Stephanie, you need a black head band for that hair of yours don't
you?

I looked at him funny. How did you know that I need a black head band?
Let's go pick one out.

Together, Barack Obama and I tried on black head bands. I picked a thick,
early sixties-style head band that made my short hair poofy in the back. It
looked great. Obama had good hair band taste, ha ha!!

Then I woke up...

Now, dream interpreters, what does that mean?