Crazy Cay-Juns

Bittersweetly, my college days are behind me, never to return again.

Gone are the days where I only had sixteen hours of necessary crap to get done each week.

Gone are the days where I had the daytime Food Network schedule memorized to a tee; the days when I could tell you the next ingredient Paula would throw into that chicken salad because I may or may not have seen that episode like seven times.

Gone are the days where I could throw on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and the Lord of all shoes ... the chaco ... and be done dressing for the day. The entire day.

And gone are the days where I had the extra time to frolic throughout the grocery store on the search for a cornucopia of ingredients to concoct a meal that wasn't boxed macaroni or frozen pizza (which are unfortunately meal staples in my life these days due to lack of time and lack of greens #youngprofessionalprobs).

However, I recently found the both the time and money (which might have been after I had a few mimosas on one Sunday Funday afternoon) to tackle the challenge of a made-from-scratch meal. Because who wants to eat Papa John's while geeking out over the glitz of the Oscars? Not me. Not my friends. We needed homemade. We needed an attempt at fancy.

And THIS is what occurred as a result.

I am here today to say that it is very important for your wellbeing, your happiness, your palatte, for the good of all people everywhere for you to find the time and the greens to assemble this dish.

You will thank me. You will thank Miss Ree Drummond. And you will thank those who make up the Cajun culture for bringing this culinary love into your world.

Happy noodling.

Molestache, Mozzarella Stick & Salvador

A couple of girlfriends and I went down to Pensacola for the weekend just to get out of town and have some fun. 

The kind of fun that includes - 

Leaving your keys in a cab and having to pay $40 to get them back

Taking a picture with a guy dressed up like Batman 

Bumping into a random man in our beach house's dark garage speaking to us in Spanish and scaring the willy nilly out of us

Buying two drinks at one time because the lines are so long 

Getting a ride back to your car in the morning from some girl you don't know 

Trying a Bloody Mary for the first time 

Befriending a handful of Marines - like, from the US Marine Corps. 

... And believing one of them when he told me he was divorced... 

It has happened. 

I'm officially old enough to find myself meeting and getting to know new and interesting MARRIED men who claim to be single. Actually, they take it one step further and have a real great detailed story to answer any and all questions. 

Y'all, what has this world come to?

I can't handle.

Let's Talk Trash

The following letter was sent to my landlord tonight in an attempt to get some things changed around here, because I'm about to go white girl crazy, and it won't be pretty:

Hi. I'm Amy in #626. 

Over the past few weeks, I've realized that I'm not real sure why I pay $25 a month for Valet Trash. I've reviewed the guidelines mentioned above and am abiding by them, yet about 95% of the time … not all of our trash is picked up when we set it out. 

The guidelines mentioned above state that no more than 2 bags of trash will be picked up yet it also mentions that no loose trash will be picked up … which are conflicting statements. I cannot have two bags of trash sitting in one trashcan. One bag will automatically be considered "loose garbage". However, to make things even more conflicting …. tonight, I went outside to find that my loose garbage was the ONLY garbage that was taken; the garbage bag that was in the can was NOT picked up. 

I don't think it's fair to charge us $25 a month for a service that's only halfway executed. I can understand if I wasn't abiding by the rules … but according to the rules above, I am doing everything correctly. 

We will be perfectly content to take the garbage to the compactor ourselves, in lieu $300 a year (which to me could be used elsewhere … maybe a small fee for a HomeOwner's Association). 

I don't mean to be rude but when I went outside tonight, I knew there was a 50/50 chance that some of my garbage was still there and I was right and it's aggravating. I don't feel comfortable paying for a service that I'm doing myself half of the time. 

I will end with a small joke to lighten the mood … after all it … it is the holidays. 

Yo' Mama is so poor … I sat on her a garbage can and she told me to get off of her roof.

Your Sincerely Aggravated Tenant in #626, 

TOP TEN REASONS I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO BEING THE ONLY SINGLE PERSON IN MY FAMILY OF 9 DURING THE HOLIDAYS

Sometimes, it bothers me that I'm the only single member of the family when we all get together. At first.

Then we naturally settle down into some topic of conversation and suddenly the pregnant step-sister shares the details of her birthing plan and why it's better to go natural even if it means splitting your lady parts in half forever. And then the other step-people with babies are wiping up vom, snot and dirt and literally sticking their noses into a dirty diaper just to confirm that the feces does in fact exist. Then the horror stories of in-laws start to escalate including the story of a mother-in-law sending pajama jeans as an actual, genuine Christmas gift, and I find myself thinking ... "Okay. Exactly why does this bother me again?"

It's a slow day at work today, and I'm counting up all my vacation days, trying how to best divide them up between Thanksgiving & Christmas. Then, I actually starting thinking about Thanksgiving & Christmas. About the baby stickiness. And the arguing with the significant other over family members. And whose turn it is to do any and everything.

 And I think for the first time EVER .... I am excited to be the only single person in my family of 9 during the holidays this year. And here's why:

1. I don't have to pretend I like a present that is actually the worst thing I've ever seen.
2. And the money I save not buying something for a bro ... goes in my "Buy Whatever You Want, Amy, Because You Are So Awesome & Pretty" bucket.
3. Bring on the garlic-y and onion-y dishes for minty freshness is not a concern.
4. And for that matter, bring on that second piece of pound cake because, why the crap not?
5. And that fourth glass of wine.
6. I can go the whole holiday season without saving my legs ... and no one would ever know. And that is a beautiful thing.
7. In-Laws. Because I'm the worst at faking smiles and happiness.
8. Blasting "All I Want for Christmas is You" as loud and as long as I want without any groaning or judging
9. I get to be the one holding the dog in all the family photos. Always a pleasure.
10. What if I like wearing my grandma Christmas, snowflake panties and socks?

Thus far, I haven't met anyone worth giving up all the above. And until then, I'm going to bask in all its glory while drinking a fourth glass of wine in my snowflake panties and reindeer socks.

Plant a Seed, Plant a Flower, Plant a Rose

I’ve had a handful of TOP moments in my life –

Rolling Toomer’s Corner the night we won the National Championship

Receiving my acceptance letter from Auburn, and my acceptance phone call for grad school at Alabama

Meeting Celine Dion at Disney World

Watching the space rocket launch into the night at the Kennedy Space Center

Turning the corner on a street in Paris and seeing the Eiffel Tower

Those all pale in comparison to Monday night. 

Back in July, it was announced that Mumford & Sons AND Hanson were going to be in Birmingham on the same night. Talk about a hard decision to make. Mumford & Sons – such a great band with a lot of talent and awesome music. But after much consideration, it hit me that Hanson and I go way back … we have a history. I was making it way harder then it needed to be … when the answer should have been obvious all along.

My inner 8-year-old had a come apart. All my childhood fantasies came true, well sorta. I’m not exaggerating when I say that all those exact same disgusting feelings I felt when I listened and watched them years ago came rushing back.  I can honestly say it was the best $27 I’ve ever spent and resulted in one of the best nights of my life.  

I, like most 9-year-old girls in 1997, had a slight unhealthy obsession with those three blonde haired beautiful boys.  I asked for “Middle of Nowhere” for Christmas that year, and it was the first CD I would ever call mine. I had t-shirts, I had posters, I had magazines.  I cried to my mom about how much I loved them every chance I got. I dreamed of kissing both Taylor AND Zac (I liked them both equally; I had no real feelings toward Isaac … although I was standing RIGHT UNDERNEATH Isaac last night, and I will tell you … he’s turned into a very good looking Hanson bro. I’d be perfectly content to have the rest of his babies if he so insisted).

Hanson disappeared for a while after their debut album and that’s when Backstreet Boys and NSYNC came on the scene and I, again, like most 10-year olds in 1997, had a slight unhealthy obsession. I was one of the few who loved both bands equally and my Hanson obsession had kinda slipped away.

But when I saw that Hanson was coming to Workplay and that the tickets were insanely affordable, I did not hesitate to get mine. And I knew I would enjoy myself but good. gravy.  

It’s so weird to think that I loved them so much when I was little - and seeing them as a 24-year old woman was just as wonderful. They really are talented musicians and put on a real entertaining show. I don’t know which was more fun to watch – Taylor dancing and playing the piano at the same time … or Zac head banging while beating the crap out of those drums. I mean, yum.

They all rotated playing different instruments and each one took their turn singing a solo song. They only played a handful of their older songs, but they each took me back to my canary-yellow bedroom where I would BLAST Hanson out of my super 90’s boombox covered in Lisa Frank stickers.

So yeah.
Bucket list item scratch off.
Feels good. 

5 Worst FB Offenders. & Shark Week.

Facebook has been in our lives for nine years. 

Nine whole years.

Call me crazy, but I feel like that is PLENTY of time to catch onto what is okay, acceptable, cute, funny, not okay, unacceptable, not cute and not funny to post onto the pages of Facebook. 

But apparently not. 

The not okay, unacceptable, not cute and not funny posts are getting out of hand these days. And I'm fully aware that it's because I'm at the age now (almost 25. hollla) where alot of people are getting married and popping out tiny humans. Which is perfectly normal. It's the circle of life.  And believe it or not, I plan on doing it someday. And when that time comes ... when I realize that I've met my future husband or whenever I'm given a picture of the little individual growing inside my uterus or when I need someone to talk to about my insecurities ... I will NOT plaster it all over my Facebook page. It's just not right. 

No. 

Facebook is for pictures to show how awful Monday is.

It's for posting links to awesome lists on BuzzFeed like this one and pictures of super colorful drinks consumed during the happiest of hours.

It's for the countdown of how many days are left until Auburn Football starts back up and apparently it's the Animal Planet's secretive way to advertise that this week is in fact Shark Week (We get it. No more Shark Week statuses).

So, today, I've decided to contribute to society by furthering the effort to eliminate the not okay, unacceptable, not cute and not funny posts by defining the 5 worst Facebook offenders that need to sign off permanently. If you find that one (or MORE! surely you won't be guilty of two at a time) of the following descriptions pertains to you .... you need to get your life together. It is my belief that if you are guilty of one (or MORE!) of these, there must be something way worse wrong and happening at the deep core of your psyche. 

Get help today if you are -

The guy who never thought he'd get married and has to let the entire world know that he is betrothed and that she actually created the sun and the moon and the stars and also the very air we breathe: 

Potential Deeper Problem: Low self-esteem and a girlfriend (excuse me, fiance with the little mark above the e) who doesn't fulfill his needs to make him feel good enough. But that's okay. Because he found the love and belonging that he needs ... 32 times.

The desperately desperate cry for attention, vague e-mo status poster:

Potential Deeper Problem: A lack of friends and/or supportive family members to sit down and discuss your life struggles combined with too many episodes of Dr. Phil. And as a result, you turn around and make all 476 of your FB friends your support group. And guess what? TDK what to think either.

The housewife who has nothing else to do but she makes it seem like she does a lot during the day with her congested list of chores status posts: 

Potential Deeper Problem: This is a classic case of dull lifestyle syndrome. There should be way more to do than these three little things. If you are having fun with your life, there will be some mopping to do (to clean up the the mixers that splashed on the floor over the weekend), some toilet scrubbing to do (because your best friend couldn't handle all the mixers over the weekend), some carpet cleaning to do (don't you have a dog?!) and some window glass cleaning (because no one likes a dirty window).  Yeah, with all the other things you SHOULD be doing ... there would be no time to even think about making such a post as this. 

The knocked-up betch who thinks her unborn fetus is the cutest thing since ET:

Potential Deeper Problem: You are pregnant and therefore can't drink alcohol. So you can't post pictures of your happy hour cocktails. So instead you post pictures of your happy uterus environment. For those of you who do this, GET. OUT. 

The throw-me-a-barf-bag and crawl-out-of your-husband's-butt wife who needs an outlet for her nauseating feelings:

Potential Deeper Problem: The only thing I can POSSIBLY think of here is that your friends and family have been deaf and blind for six years and you still carry that hope that they will one day be healed and you want the first thing they see and hear to be that you feel better and completely loved by your absolute best friend and husband. Who you've known for almost six years. NOT EXACTLY SIX YEARS. Almost six years. 

Sorry if you found this harsh, but that just means you feel a little guilt bunny hopping around behind you. 

Looks like you need to turn back around and hop away from your FB behavior, friend. 

Smooches.

Memory Monday - it's not really a thing, but today it is

I was going through old pictures a few days ago and stumbled across a few that switched on a lightbulb to one of my greatest moments that should be shared with all –

Let’s just call today “Memory Monday”, that way it won’t be that random of a post:

One time, I crawled on top of the bed to wake up my then-boyfriend who was sound asleep and exhausted after a long night of coughing his lungs out due to his mono.

But once I got to his face to kiss him, I realized it wasn’t he.

It was his older brother …

who I had met the day before …

for maybe 5 minutes.

It was the first time in the history of men and women that a guy woke up terrified because there was a blonde girl in his bed.

Happy Monday, everyone!