It dawned on me one day early last summer, as I found myself sitting in a lawn chair in my backyard, wearing an old tank top, flip-flops, and cut-offs (okay, it was probably a skirt or jeans but if I did cut-offs, it would have been cut-offs), eating crawfish out of a paper bag and drinking a BL: Louisiana had sucked me in. Officially.
The cultural hold has gotten progressively stronger and has evidenced itself once again in my choice of food. I used to think it odd that many families around here have not just salt and pepper on their tables, but all manner of seasonings (Tony Sacheres - which I don't particularly like - being the most common) along with 19 different kinds of hot sauce readily available for all your seaoning and saucing needs. I used to scoff at such culinary foolishness, but no more! I'm in. I'm so in. I can't get enough hot sauce. It goes great on anything. I'm not talking about salsa (which also goes great on many things). I mean the good stuff: tiger sauce, tobasco, louisiana hot sauce, Frank's Red Hot (my current favorite), and the list goes on. I could drink the stuff. I could plan a menu based on what kind of hot sauce I wanted. This is getting out of hand. I've got to stop talking about it.
What else are you crazy Louisianians going to make me do? Don't say chicory. If I start liking chicory, I'll know I'm a lost cause.
I try never to watch new shows - especially the shows that are really popular. Lost? I have no intention of ever watching it. Why? Because I know I would like it and I don't have time for it. The last thing I need to do is add another hour of TV to my week. And it's not like you can just watch one episode. It's all or nothing, baby.
One show I particularly try to avoid is American Idol. It is on more often than the Olympics. It's ALWAYS on. So, I try not to watch it because I like it. And I'll want to watch it more. And it is always available to watch. Maybe in a few more weeks, once it's really narrowed down, I'll get into it with reckless abandon - which is a term that Randy used to describe the performance of one of the contestants last night. (Not that I was watching. One of my housemates was watching it in the other room and I was listening to it. Really.) The term Randy should have used was "train wreck". Horrible. Too bad I don't even know the contestant's name. Hopefully, he won't be around in a few weeks if I start watching.
One more thing: downloading shows from iTunes is a bad habit. BAD. I'll try not to keep doing it. But The Office is so funny and the constant Olympic activity means no NBC, which means no The Office, which means I have to either download episodes off iTunes or get my uncomfortable sarcasm elsewhere. What would you do?
I've been too busy to blog lately. We've been slammed at work, which is great. Despite the constant gloom of the economic indicators and all that good stuff, people still need home loans. In addition to my regular load, I'm also taking on some extra work to help out our Gulfcoast division, where housing is, of course, booming (and complicated). I'm glad to be able to help and it's very interesting to see what the market is like down there. Even though it can be stressful, I love having a full load at work. I just wish I'd quit waking up at 3 am thinking of things that need to be done. I think I'll give up waking up at 3 am for Lent. Well, it's either that or junk food. I'll have to think about it.
My life hasn't been all home loans and sleepless nights lately, so I can't complain. Even though 2006 has not started off as the happiest year of my life and I've considered starting a presbyterian convent, I've realized that one of my purposes as a twenty-something single woman (besides the obvious fact that God must have other things in mind for me) is to give middle-aged women the pleasure of thinking they will be *the one* to introduce me to *The One*. It's quite entertaining, really. And, hey, if it works, who am I to complain? (I went speed dating for crying out loud. I'm practically shameless.) And if it doesn't work? Well, there's always the convent.
How did I start that last paragraph off with a sentence ending in the words "I can't complain" and end up complaining?
Anyway, I enjoyed my long weekend (many thanks to George Washington and Abraham Lincoln for inspiring a federal holiday). A party here, a dinner with the girls there, a kiss on the chubby cheeks of the nephew and the nieces, and a nice warm house on a very cold day = ready to start a new week of goodness: hold the complaining (and hopefully, the convent, too).
*quote attributed to one Les Dawson
Things Rednecks Don't Say
Oh I just couldn't. Hell, she's only sixteen.
I'll take Shakespeare for 1000, Alex.
Duct tape won't fix that.
Lisa Marie was lucky to catch Michael.
Come to think of it, I'll have a Heineken.
We don't keep firearms in this house.
Has anybody seen the sideburns trimmer?
You can't feed that to the dog.
No kids in the back of the pickup, it's just not safe.
Wrasslin's fake.
Honey, did you mail that donation to Greenpeace?
We're vegetarians.
Do you think my gut is too big?
I'll have grapefruit and grapes instead of biscuits and gravy.
Honey, we don't need another dog.
Give me the small bag of pork rinds.
Too many deer heads detract from the decor.
Spittin is such a nasty habit.
I just couldn't find a thing at Walmart today.
Trim the fat off that steak.
Cappuccino tastes better than espresso.
The tires on that truck are too big.
I've got it all on the C drive.
Unsweetened tea tastes better.
Would you like your salmon poached or broiled?
My fiance, Bobbie Jo, is registered at Tiffany's.
Little Debbie snack cakes have too many fat grams.
Does the salad bar have bean sprouts?
Hey, here's an episode of "Hee Haw" that we haven't seen.
I don't have a favorite college team.
I believe you cooked those green beans too long.
Nope, no more for me. I'm drivin tonight.
Checkmate.
Imagine a day wherein you oversleep. Then you jump out of bed. Well, "jump" is probably an overstatement. So you stumble out of bed.
Morning breath. Ug.
Okay, brushing your teeth could make the day better. That is, unless you drop your toothbrush in the toilet.
You watch it fall in slow motion - like when you yourself take a fall and time seems to stop as you feel yourself falling, have time to think not only of how badly you could injure yourself, but also of how much you hope no one is watching - yet you are powerless to stop the fall.
"Nooooo!" you say (screaming silently, for the sake of your roommates).
Splash.
Fetch it: should I or shouldn't I?
I guess I pretty much have to.
Now, imagine a world in which this scenario repeats itself everyday but never looses its frustration-factor (a la Groundhog Day).
Welcome to my life.
Okay, I didn't really drop my toothbrush in the toilet, but if I had, I don't think it would have changed anything for the better.
However, if I do it tomorrow, I'll be really upset. That would not be cool because I'm going to try to be annoyingly cheerful tomorrow - so annoyingly cheerful you'll want to throw my toothbrush in the toilet.
Or at least rub it on a wet bar of soap when I'm not looking.
Fun from JeniLiz!
Monday beat me down. I mean it. Sunday night, I went to bed so happy and thankful that my life is so good. My weekend included everything I wanted it to include: some friends, some family, a good workout, a little shopping, a little pampering, good sleep, good worship - basically, all the things that make life worth living. I prayed that I would be more thankful for the life I have and that I would work harder at my job.
Yeah, then it was Monday. By 11am, the only thing I could be excited about was the fact that I had a dentist appointment at 3, so I could have a little peace and quiet - away from the phone, the e-mail, the door. Looking forward to a dentist appointment: that's bad. I went home (late) with about five unresolved issues to spend the evening with.
By the time I got to work this morning, I already had voicemails and e-mails just waiting to greet me - but all with good news. All the things I went home worrying about last night were done. Over. Taken care of. A lot of good all that worrying did me, huh? I think I need more patience in learning to be patient. I guess I'll try again to be thankful - this time for both the easy and the difficult, the chores and the luxury, the elevator and the stairs.