31 for 31, Part 1

So I don’t know if I mentioned it or not (and I’m too lazy to go look it up), but I celebrated my 31st birthday on January 17th (a Tuesday).  I celebrated it by laying in bed, with the highlight of my day being going to Chili’s (free dessert!) and working.  Yay.

However, the weekends preceding and succeeding my birthday were awesome, under the circumstances.  I got to actually hang out with some friends the Saturday before (my first foray out into the world with a broken collarbone), most of whom I hadn’t seen in a while.  We had steaks and great conversation, though there was one minor mishap where a friend slapped my injured arm.  I cried a little, but then I got over it.  Plus her reaction was far too funny, so I hurt myself laughing more than anything.  :)  My moms drove in the Sunday before to take me to birthday lunch and hang out.  The following weekend, my bestie Amanda (who also slapped me on the arm, THRICE!  I have violent friends.) drove in from Austin and we traded my original Laser Tag party for a game night around the house (EPIC!  If you haven’t heard of Cards Against Humanity, go to the link and make it yours).  There was cake, queso, and uproarious laughter.  Friends drove in from out of town to ring in my 31st with much cheer.  It wasn’t my best birthday, but given the limitations, it was truly a great time.

In other birthday-related news: One of my high school drill team friends and I have only 6 days between birthdays (happy birthday, Alida!), and she came up with a brilliant idea that I’m 100% stealing away from her.  So there. Continue reading


I’m back, bitches!!

This was Taylor for two weeks.

My apologies for just dropping off the radar for a month. I know you all were in absolute agony without me, but trust me – it wasn’t as much agony as I was in. Word to the wise: Never, ever, ever break your clavicle. Ever. The same goes for your ribs (from what I hear), or your scapula, or any other bone that connects to your torso.  Pictures?  I think we need pictures. Continue reading

Happy New Year to me

I broke my collarbone on New Years., I had a plate put in yesterday and im in massive amounts of pain. Please please help me take my mind off it. Write posts, send funny stuff, please! Drugs aren’t helping, but laughter is the best medicine I hear.

Conversations With Amanda, Part 2

As previously mentioned, I love having conversations with my BFF Amanda.

Mostly because we can be really mean to each other, but in the most loving of ways.  Example:  She borrowed a book from me.  It has charts and graphs and fill-in-the-blank area.  She wanted to borrow the book.  But then weeks went by, and I asked her about it.

She did not read any more of the book, but I did not throat-kick her.  (But oh, it’s coming, Amanda.)

But one of my favorite recent conversations had to do with my (poor) husband and an owl painting that Amanda did.

Here is the painting in question:

It’s amazing, and I don’t just say that because she’s my BFF.  I’m really particular about my art, and there’s very little that I would excitedly put up on my wall.  Not only do all the colors in this palate go with my color schemes, but I love owls, and I love snarky owls the best.  So clearly, this painting was destined to be mine.

Amanda and I discussed where I would put it once it was placed in the home.  I decided I would place it in the powder room, over the toilet, facing the mirror.

In the conversation below, “him” is the owl:

Poor Husband.

In other news, you should totally go look at all of her other stuff.  She’s really awesome.

Merry Christmas, Little Giraffe!

Guess what our intrepid blog author received for Christmas this year?

(Oh, and some other stuff.)

Husband calls it my power animal.  I’m just excited that me and BFF have matching animal hats that personify our existence.  We will soon take over the world with baby giraffes and pandas.  There will be no more war, just lots of “awwwww!!!” everywhere.

And just to start spreading my giraffe tyranny love, I put it on everyone else’s head that I could.  Both people who would allow me photographic evidence have super-smiles on their faces, which is proof that I WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD WITH AWW.  Yes.  Watch it happen, people.  (Also, how cute are these people?) 

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

So this is proof. Prepare yourself for the baby panda/baby giraffe peace on war on peace.

Did your gift make your (or anyone else’s) year? Do tell!

Why Amanda Panda is My BFF.

Need I explain?

Curses! Foiled again.

Amanda wins this round. Continue reading

Don’t Cry, Y’all

Leave that to me.  Because my fucking throat is ON FREAKING FIRE.

Sorry I haven’t been around, and might not be for a few more days.

It started Sunday. I just started coughing a lot, but I didn’t think anything of it.  Woke up Monday, and my throat felt scratchy.  I didn’t feel sick, but I sounded like a bad Kathleen Turner impersonator.

Monday night, tossed and turned.  Apparently I coughed a lot in the middle of the night, and had drainage.  Woke up at 5AM.  Throat hurt so bad, like I’d been sleeping with my mouth open and it was just super raw.  Could barely talk.  Called boss to work from home.

My voice got progressively worse, then a bit better.  All I wanted was ice cream, chicken soup, and mashed potatoes.  Husband took care of me like a champ.

Last night, y’all?  I slept in 30 minute segments.  I’d be in that state of half-sleep where I was really uncomfortable, and everytime I’d swallow, it’d be so painful that it would wake me up.  I tried Nyquil.  I tried drinking water.  I tried throat spray.  NOTHING HELPED. 

I sound like a chipmunk who’s being choked out by an elephant trunk.  (That’s right, wait for the visual.)

I’m going to the doctor today and I will not leave until he either carves out my throat or otherwise fixes the problem, pronto.  At this point, I’m hoping for the former.  I’m not a patient patient.

I’m also going on vacation Friday and won’t be back until Monday (although, we’re going to Mississippi, so it’s possible I’ll be back by Saturday.  Or dead.  One or the other).  I will leave you with two videos that horrified me on Sunday.

Please explain to me what’s going on here, because I don’t understand it. 

You have to watch the whole videos to see the “dance moves” (a phrase I’m loosely applying here) and the hair.  And the clothes.  And the…I don’t even…yeah.

One thing I will give this gal.  Bitch has a pretty voice.  Does not have groove.