Welcome Home, Dear CHI

Goodbye Mufasa, hellllooooooo breakage.

Man, am I glad to have my normal, flatter hair back. No more dancing around the Pride Lands, letting my mane fly in the wind…

I don’t mind that I have to tame my fly-aways with lip gloss in my rear view. I don’t even mind that I have a pea sized bald spot, because I got a little overzealous with the tweezers and about 20 hairs that just wouldn’t sit down…

That is just a small price that girls like me and Chaka Khan have to pay for the sleek look.

So Fast

It is funny to me how quickly I go from single/independent/strong/no nonsense woman to little sister/daddy's girl/baby/big sister... Home just does that to me. Every time. No matter how much I try to fight it.

Within about three minutes of being home, my brother was jacking me in the arm. I am sure that he wanted me to think that he was super tough... but what I really knew was that he missed me. And, a few days later, when I was getting ready to head back here and he put me in a full nelson to show me how it was really done, I knew it was because he was going to miss me. Although, he would never admit it.

When I was guarding the door while my brothers were wrapping my parents pillows with wrapping paper, and putting ornaments in their sheets as a special surprise for when they went to bed... and when I helped my mom take down the Christmas tree, only to put it back up in my dad's art studio (even though it was too big for him and the tree to fit into at the same time)... going to back to my life in Des Moines was the farthest thing from my mind.

Shopping with my mamma, pedis with my sister, fighting about how long it takes me to get ready with my brother, hanging out with my dad, encouraging my little brother to do things that make my mom crazy just because I think it is funny, seeing my favorite aunt/uncle and cousins... That is exactly what I needed.

Jab-Cross-Hook-Kick-F&*%

I am pretty sure there is a good chance that I broke my foot last night at Kickboxing… Ok, I may be being a bit dramatic, because really I probably wouldn’t be able to walk, but it sure felt like I broke it when it happened and it actually doesn’t feel a whole lot better.

I was just working out like normal, when out of my peripheral I saw my work out buddy Scott doing some fancy kick thing, so of course I thought I would be jazzy and try it… well. It didn’t work. Instead, I kicked the base of the bag (hard/heavy/thick plastic) with full force. Then I jumped around for a while cussing. Then I stared at my awesome new knotted up bruised foot and thought about how cool and tough I am. Then I cussed a bit more. Then I continued my work out (I hopped on one foot a lot and avoided the kicks).

As we were leaving class a couple of people said I should probably head to the ER to get it x-ray’d… but, that wasn’t option. You wanna know why? First, I haven’t had a pedicure in about two months. Second, my legs hadn’t been shaved that day. Ok, or the day before… shut up. I am single. It’s cold outside, I have been wearing pants. Oh, seriously, I am not going to justify myself to you! There was no way I was going to see a doctor in my condition.

So, I decided to go home, ice/elevate, paint my toe nails and shave my legs and then address my orthopedic issue if I was still in pain.

Today, I am a bit better, however the nice numb feeling I had last night has disappeared and I am certainly more aware of the problem. This could also be because I am wearing pointy toe’d high heels. My bruise is seriously awesome and I am sure if it was sandal season, people would be really impressed with how tough I am; as the weather is currently not lending itself to me flaunting my wound, I am just having to tell people about it, which definitely mitigates my toughness…

I probably won’t go to the doctor today… but if I did, I am happy to report, I have beautifully manicured toes and deliciously smooth legs.

Sista Sista

See this beautiful little babycakes here... this is my little sister. She is seriously precious.

And, she is coming to stay with me this weekend!!!!!! I can hardly wait!

She has only been here once. Maybe twice... Well, I can't exactly remember, but the point is, she is coming again! Yay!!!!

Here are a few reasons why I love her...

1.) She understands that there is little else in the world that drives me as crazy as eating and drinking noises and makes a serious effort to not make either. She takes the ittiest bittiest little bites of food, so as not to make any accidental crunches.

2.) Even though she is growing up so quickly into a beautiful, mature, well spoken woman, I still remember when she was a little babycakes running around in the ridiculously frilly dresses, bonnets and ankle socks we used to put her in. I was her "other mother" and I am so proud of who she has become.

ok, that was a serious one... sorry, I had to. I have moments too.

3.) She, like me, has an obsession with lotions, sprays and perfumes. So, the fact that together we may smell like a giant strip club, doesn't mitigate the fact that we smell delicious.

I could go on and on...

But, the point is... even though my windshield cracked from one side of my car to the other, work is crazy and this week seems to be lasting for-ev-er... I don't even care, because on Friday, my baby sister will be here. Waaahooooooooo!

**Chelsea... if you happen to be reading this, please pack snow suit, because it happens to be about -5 right now and we are not expecting a heat way. **

***Chelsea... if you happened to read the above statement and decided not to come... I was just kidding. No, really. Kidding.***

Thanks - Here Is A Napkin...

I left my apartment this morning with such determination. Determination and a broom and a dustpan.

What? You saw the pictures... I don't own a shovel, what was I supposed to use, my hands?!

Turns out removing large amounts of snow, when it is six below zero, with a dustpan, probably isn't the most effective way to go.

Luckily a nice neighbor drove by and decided that I needed a little help. No, not to shovel... just a little neighborly advice as he took big puffs of his cigar. Uh huh. A cigar. At 7:30 in the morning.

"I think your best bet is going to be to just get in and reverse and then go forward and keep doing that until you get out..."

Um... I don't know if you have noticed, but I can't get in the driver's side...

Oh, that's ok... just crawl in the passenger side. I will stay here and make sure you make it...

I bet you will, stupid. Watch me crawl though my car with my snow covered hooker boots... He was being nice, though, and I didn't want things to get awkward. So, I went with it.

Luckily, after a quick show of flexibility and a whole lot of reversing and going forward, I got her out!

Then, to my surprise, the nice cigar smokin' man offered to stay and help me scrape my car!

After a few minutes of scraping I looked up to notice a nice steady stream of drool hanging from this mans mouth. I am not talking a little slobber, I am talking a four to six inch drool line, just waiting to drop on my windshield.

That was when I decided that this man had served his purpose. I have a weak stomach in the morning and the cigar smell coupled with the disgusting brownish drool juice hanging from his face was way too much for me to handle.

I kindly thanked him, quickly got in my car, fumbled with my seat belt/blackberry/coffee... anything to kill time until he drove away.

Then, I got out and finished the job.

Ooooooh The Weather Outside Is Frightful...

This was the scene outside my apartment last night...

And then this when I opened my door this morning

I was not excited about this... until I heard I had a SNOW DAY!!!!! The entire city shut down and while my office wasn't officially closed, my team was able to stay home.

Can you believe that I had a slumber party and snow day all in the same week...

Hello... Charlie-girl, this is the sixth grade calling!!!!

I loved it!

Unfortunately though, this is what is going on now

See that car there... the one on the end, the one with the snow covering the driver side?! Yep, that one is mine and since I don't have a shovel I am going to try to spend the rest of my evening not dreading tomorrow mornings dig out.

*Making mental note to purchase a shovel and boots that do not have heels on them.*

Man, if only this really was sixth grade... then I could just lovingly watch my dad from the window making sure everything was cleared off and ready to go...

Monday Mania

I feel like whenever you get invited to a party, you should always be as festive as possible... which is why I wore my Ms. Claus outfit to my group of friends' holiday sleep over this weekend!

I know what you are thinking.. should we be more concerned with her wearing things like that in public... or the fact that a group of... well, let's just say, upper twenty year olds, had a sleep over!?!

And, while you are addressing things we should be concerned about... don't be concerned with the shirt of the cutie standing next to me... he doesn't really wear cotton turtlenecks, he was just tryin to add a little holiday jazz to his wardrobe too.

Anyway, moving on to other Monday items I need to discuss. It is that time of year again... I guess I can't complain too much, even though that is precisely what I want to do, because it is December and we are just now having to talk about this. But, stupid Des Moines is about to get a stupid snow storm. Ok, I don't really think Des Moines is stupid, but I am dreading this impending inclement weather doom. Driving in the snow seriously terrifies me. I am not good at driving in perfect conditions, there is just too much to do... like find and put on lip gloss, read my texts messages, dance to the radio, change clothes on the way to the gym, etc. So throw snow in the mix and we have ourselves a big problem. Strangely being distracted is not even my problem, I actually become the complete opposite of my normal driving self during weather issues and become that person that causes accidents because I am going approximately 23 miles per hour on the high way...

It is coming tomorrow. Eight to twelve inches. Wish me luck. I will be pacing until then.

Now... onto what I really wanted to talk about. Back in July I blogged about how I was becoming a bit of a blog stalker. Well, as it turned out, I didn't reel myself in as I had intended and I commented on a seriously beautiful picture Reagan posted... and you will never guess what, she and her husband have both commented back!! More than once!

I know you are all saying in your head right now, "get over it Charlie-girl... really! Who cares?!"

Um, Me! I am practically starstruck right now!

So, while this week's impending snow storm doom may totally suck and I may be tired from my grown up holiday slumber party, I am still in a great mood, because I just made three new friends in New York City... Jake, Reagan and the adorable Ms. Pipster! Whoo hoo!

Where's The Remote?!

I spent last Monday evening watching the A & E network and it has taken me until today to get over the nauseous feeling that doing so caused.


First, I watched Intervention. Since it was my childhood dream to be a Cop/teacher/dolphin trainer (but for the sake of this post, let’s just stick with Cop only), you would think watching people shoot up and destroy their lives would phase me… well, it did. I was so conflicted. On one hand, I was so happy that my only addictions are Strawberry Bliss lip gloss and coffee, but on the other hand, I was so heartbroken for those people and the disease of true addiction they face every day.


Next, I made the horrible, horrible mistake of watching Hoarders. Please excuse me while I walk away and deep breath through the urge to puke… It was probably the grossest thing I have ever seen. Maybe because I am a compulsive cleaner/germaphobe and maybe just because it was plain old effin sick. The lady they featured had two dead and rotting cats in her living room. Yes, dead and rotting… that she just didn’t notice. Oh no… Please excuse me again while I go deep breath. I am not even exaggerating when I say that I was so disgusted and nauseated when I went to bed that night.


I know that the stuff you read, listen to and watch can get into your system and affect you and Monday night seriously did just that. I have been thinking about it all week and only now am I able to write about it.


I thought about writing a letter to the Network…


Dear A & E… Your shows are depressing and make me want to throw up. That is how I would start the letter.


But, then I thought they would probably write one back to me…


Dear Charlie – Girl… Change the channel.


And, with that, I decided to keep my letter writing to myself.

Ho Ho Ho

In honor of the Holiday Season, I would like to wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas (Yes, Christmas, because this is Jesus’ birthday), but because I don’t want to judge, I will also wish you all a very happy whatever it is you celebrate and invite you all to go to church with me on Christmas Eve. Additionally, I would like to post my wish list! I realize that my wish list is probably not high on your priority list, I also realize that gift giving is not the reason for the season and finally I realize that it is the thought that counts. But, let’s be honest… this is my blog, so while my wish list is probably not high on your priority list it is high up on mine. Second, gift giving is not the reason for the season, but we all do it anyway and lastly, the thought does count, so I am going to give you something to think about.

So, now that we have gotten all of that out of the way…

1.) A watch. Not an expensive, fancy watch… just a practical silver watch with actual numbers on the face. My mind apparently doesn’t work fast enough to process the time without the numbers.

2.) A CHI. For those of you that do not know what a CHI is, you clearly don’t have horse hair, like me… that is pretty much the only straightening tool that will allow me to remotely flatten this hot mess that sits on my head.

3.) A BIG thing of Laundry Detergent and Fabric Softener (the good kind, that I get to pick out). Yes… this may seem like a silly request, but I am one cheap chick and so instead of getting a big thing of the good kind that smells yummy, I always get the mini Purex detergent and Walmart brand softener. Just once I want to pull my towels out and bury my face in the delicious smell of something like Gainful Expressions… and not have to pick up mini bottles every time I go to Walmart. And, while we are at it, maybe a gigantic thing of Toilet Paper too… also something that I have to pick up on every trip, because while the 4 packs do not last very long, they are only a dollar.

4.) My brakes fixed and if you are a man or know about automotive repair, this can be a very inexpensive gift. It will require some elbow grease and big garage though, unless you want to freeze your booty off.

I don’t want to be self absorbed though, so if you would like to email/text/comment back with some of your wish list items, I will review and act on them accordingly.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Thanksgiving Treat

I was honored to be a guest at a friends Thanksgiving Dinner this year and so I decided to make a special treat. At the risk of having you read another blog and realizing mine is kind of dumb... I have to mention that I found this recipe off Bakerella.com. Her treats look so awesome, I just had to try a recipe.

See what I mean... I knew if I could pull this off, I would be a total hit at the party.

First, I had to make a quick trip to the store to pick up all the items needed... and because I generally stock my fridge with beer and condiments, that meant I had to pick up eggs and oil and everything!!

Then, on to the challenge. Channel my inner Bakerella to make this delicious, but more importantly in my mind, pretty treat. Looks are very important when it comes to showing up at a party, after all!

Sadly, this is what I ended up with.

No! These are not Swedish Meatballs!

They may not look as nice and fancy as Bakerellas, but they were delicious and for a girl that stocks her fridge with beer and condiments and hasn't made anything that didn't involve a microwave or veggies in a bag in an incredibly long time, I think that was one hell of a effort!

Change of Heart

I wanted to write about two kinds of people today... "Christopher Robin" people and "Eeyore" people.

Let me give you an example of both:

"Hi Christopher Robin! How are you today?" I am doing well, thank you! The sun is shining, its a short week, my family is healthy... Can't complain!

"Hi Eeyore, what's shaking?" Today is not a good day. My wife's been riding my ass, my boss is a prick, my kids are making me broke.... This is about the time you do whatever you can to end the conversation and walk away... Eeyore is probably in mid sentence, but you really don't care... now is not the time to be polite.

The moral of the story was that nobody likes an Eeyore and after having talked to a few recently, I wanted to post this little nugget of advice for your reading pleasure and as a reminder to myself to pull my head out of my ass when I am feeling like Grumpity McGrumpster.

But, in the interest of good information, I did what any good writer (obviously using the term loosely) would do and I researched my subjects. So, after a quick google search and a few minutes on Wikipedia, I learned that Christopher Robin is, in fact, a big giant asshole!!!

Christopher Robin was based off of A.A. Milne's son Christopher Robin Milne and Christopher felt that his father capitalized on his name and was quoted as saying, "It seemed to me almost that my father had got where he was by climbing on my infant shoulders, that he had filched from me my good name and left me nothing but empty fame."

Bitch, he gave you that name!

I am seriously pissed about this. Clearly.

Please excuse me while I step down from my soapbox to finish my story...

Ok... So, anyway.

I am hereby changing my types of people to "Oprah" and "Eeyore".

Christopher Robin can shove that misleading, chipper sunshine crap up his ass.

Ok, back down from the soapbox again...

Unplanned Fiesta

Sorry girls, the kitchen is closed...

Can we just grab a pitcher of Margaritas at the bar real quick?

Sure, no problem... Bars open.

Flash forward twenty minutes. The final two patrons having dinner had left and my girls and I are finishing up our pitcher...

See, here we are... Just five innocent girls enjoying a refreshing beverage.

But, then something happened... those waiters decided that they were going to spice up our girls night...

Oh. No. Things like this started happening... it was them, not us, I promise. Remember how innocent we looked up there?!

Just a few sips of that Mexican water... and all the sudden we were rockin sombreros and shakin our booties. I think those boys knew what they were doing... they had a plan all along. "Kitchens closed, but the bars open"... oldest trick in the book, we should have never fallen for it!

Holster those guns, ladies...

We made our way out about two hours after close... our bill was a big whopping $0....

Impromptu Mexican Vaca's are always a fantastic idea.

Smile Pretty!

My last post was Saturday?! I am a terrible blogger… I am glad you are all my friends and love me unconditionally. Even if I don’t post as regularly as I should. Even if I get in a bad mood sometimes and post only to vent. Even if I rob, lie, cheat and steal. Even if I fart while riding in a car with you and instantly hit the window locks.

Too far… that last one was just too far. Sorry.

Anyway, back to today.

Please wait, while I gather my inner fourth grader.

Do you know why? Because, today is picture day of course! Yes, that’s right… individual company picture day, which means there are a lot of black and gray suites walking around our office today.

The whole “picture day” situation reminds me so much of grade school. Today while I was getting ready my mind was filled with memories of the small black combs they handed out, trying to find the perfect outfit and making sure my French braid had no bumps in it and my mall bangs were perfect.

Today is also Thanksgiving Dinner at the office. I, however, will not be participating. There are two primary reasons why and before I tell you, I need acknowledge the fact that I am in fact crazy. I am aware. So, judge away, I already know.

First, the whole “pot luck” concept makes me nauseous. I know that I wash my hands before I prepare food… but how can I be sure John Doe in Accounting’s wife did before she begrudgingly prepared something for him to take to his office? In fact, she probably didn’t wash her hands just out of spite, because he couldn’t prepare his own damn dish…

Next, I am pretty sure that turkey, stuffing, gravy and apple pie doesn’t fall within my carbs/protein allotment for that meal.

This does pose a problem, though, as I now need to disappear during the festivities, so as not to have to answer any questions about why I am not partaking and I really want to do is eat my can of soup at my desk.

No matter what I decide to do though, I have to make sure I don’t get dirty… because, after lunch comes picture time, then… recess?!

Accumulation

This is the bush outside of the entrance to my apartment building. Just a regular old bush... right?

Take a better look...

Do you see all those white specks? That is chewed up gum. Each on individually spat there by....... me.

What kind of lady spits her gum out in a bush?

The kind of woman that doesn't think about how quickly those sticky chunks will start to add up!

It is so gross, I know. I am ashamed of myself. Not ashamed enough, however, to monkey pick through the bush to clean up the damage that I have cause.

What will my neighbors think when they know it is me?!

No, I won't... I will just wait until everything freezes over and dies and hope that my little gum balls will magically disappear before spring.

One Word Wednesday!

United.

Boot.

Besties

Oops!

Parents Weekend

I am pretty sure this was one of the best Des Moines weekends EVER! Do you wanna know why? Because of these cuties...

These lovers here are my mom and dad. My dad is practically a world famous artist... and this weekend he decided to grace Des Moines with his talent. They don't come to visit very often, so I was so excited to have them.

This guy here may be rocking some crazy eyes... and he may not be willing to drink a dirty thirty of NatiIce because it isn't as good as Miller Light... but that is ok. Because he blew the Des Moines art scene out of the water.

And this girl!? Every reason that I call my mom my best friend was reiterated. It probably is a good thing that she is my mom, though, and we didn't grow up together as same age best friends... because I think I would probably have to be writing this blog from jail, because we would have done something very fun, but very crazy to end up there!

The weekend wouldn't have been complete without these guys too though... my greatest friends.

I had such a great weekend, in fact, that I didn't want to do anything last night but cry! I didn't want the weekend to end! I didn't want my parents to leave, I didn't want my friends to go back to their houses, I didn't want to not be outside enjoying the beautiful weather, I didn't want to take my fake eyelashes off (another story, another day!)... I just wanted to replay it all again. But, life happens and all good things come to end. All we have are memories, plans to do it again as soon as possible and images like this true, beautiful, unabashed happiness is our heads...

Looking Out For Everybody Else

Today, in an effort to look out for the well being of my co-workers, I will limit my trips away from desk. I will do this because I look terrible and I don’t want to make anyone throw up.

Have you ever had those days? Come on, I know you have.

I hate what I am wearing, I hate my hair… pretty much the only thing I have going for me is I smell good, and with my stash of perfumes/lotions/body sprays/etc. it is pretty hard to screw that up…

This day just started and I can’t wait for it to be over. Fantastic.

It's Me! It's Me!

Who's that Spartan at my Halloween Part-y????

Uh-huh, uh-huh. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh! Chess Club Rules!!

I was going to be a total grown up lamo blamo last night and stay in... but that cute little Spartan up there talked me in to being his sidekick and boy am I glad I did... because if I wouldn't have gone out, I would have missed out on meeting this famous family!!!!

Yep, that's right... Jon and Kate with all their little nuggets! Please also take note in that picture, the big giant belly that is about to enter the room! Now, that is one sexy beast!

Pride

I set a goal in May to run a 5K. I know what your thinking... big deal! Well, it happens to be a big deal, if you are me! I am not a runner... I hate it in fact. I want to love it... Oh how I want to love it, but instead, the second I start running all I can think about is when I get to stop. Actually, I think, "Man, I hope I don't fall... Good Lord, I can't wait to stop....".

Anyway, this past Saturday was the day of the race. Unfortunately, the Wednesday before I hurt my back... But, I was not going to let that stop me. I set a goal, and by god I was going to complete it! I didn't care how bad my back hurt, I am a 5k running champion, after all! And, I knew it could be perceived as an excuse... and that was NOT happenin!

Do you see the intensity in this face?! Oh, I was going to make this run my bitch, alright!

My mind was ready... but just a few stretches were needed in order for my body to be ready too, of course.

My friends were quick to point out that I looked like I was preparing for the special olympics... I think they were jealous, because they could tell I was about to bust out some major running skills.

OH YEAH... just look at me go!

It was probably pretty hard for them to take this picture, you know... since I was going so fast...

Highlight Reel

“I’m 6’2” and blonde.” Such a misleading description… Did you know eyebrows could be transparent?!



As he was practically batting his eyebrows, he told me what an “awesome, furry little guy” his cat is… Awoooooga!!! Awoooooga!!!! That is the sound of my gadar going off. And, no, it is not because he has a cat only; it started going off the very second I walked in the door . But, comments like that just served to confirm my suspicions. If only boys like that would admit it, because I happen to have the perfect male friend for him!



“I have twelve tickets to the Bears game on December 28th, if you want to go with…” Dude. We have not known each other for more than 47 minutes and you are asking me to go out of town with your friends and family??? Thank you, but I think I’ll pass. Furthermore, pointing out the fact that you are a football fan doesn’t increase your heterosexuality in my mind. Just sayin.




“Wow, I am glad you came back, I was hoping that there wasn’t a door back there by the bathrooms for you to escape!” That’s funny, because as it turns out, I was hoping there was. For the record, I wouldn’t leave my purse and phone though…



And, finally, a text message from 7:57 this morning…



BDG: So, you work close to Merle Hay, right?


Charlie-girl: Um, kind of… Off Douglas, near the Pilot Truck Stop.


BDG: Ah, I’ll stop by on my way to work? Or, would that be kind of creepy?


Charlie-girl: Um, yeah. That would be creepy.



Opportunity knocked. I answered. I looked blankly at the knocker and told him he was at the wrong house….

Humpity Hump Day Ramble

• I have a serious fear with all this talk of H1N1 vaccinations that an I Am Legend type situation is going to happen. I don’t exactly think that Dark Seekers are going to set traps to hunt and kill us normal folks who aren’t infected… but how are we to know right now how these vaccines are going to affect us in the future and I would rather not become a mutant victim of the infected plague. Nope, not at all… I would much rather be hanging out with my cool dog singing Three Little Birds with Bob Marley!

• Here are the facts: Everybody poops. A lot of people like to read and poop. I am twenty seven years old. So, why does it still crack me up when I see someone walk into the bathroom with a magazine rolled up under their arm. Shouldn’t I be passed that by now?!

• My back feels like someone kicked it like a million times. Then, when they were done kicking me in the back, they… pause… I was going to say Donkey Punched me… but I just googled the definition and it made me blush and almost puke at the same time… So, let’s just stick with a million kicks. All I want to do is lay on the floor and groan. I am pretty sure my co-workers wouldn’t be super pumped about that.

• I have a blind date tonight. A seriously blind one, as in I don’t even know what he looks like. He could be 4’11” for all I know. I have only done one other true blind date in my life and it was awful. I was sitting at the bar and every time a guy walked in, this is what would run through my head… Oh I hope this is him, I hope this is him, I hope… or Please don’t be him, please don’t be him, please don’t… you get the point. Guess who I got. The please don’t be him guy. I was nicer then and stayed for a drink… now a days, I feel like I would just hit the road or better yet, lay on the floor and groan! And for those of you that are keeping up on this lovely little blog… for the record, the Motorcycle man did ask me out on a second date, and a third, and a fourth… but, I think that luck is when opportunity meets preparation. Tonight, opportunity knocks.

Nerd Alert! Nerd Alert!

Yesterday I had my monthly book club meeting. Even though I love book club and I am reading good books that I normally wouldn’t have on my own… I always feel like quite the dork when I say anything about it. Oh well, today I wear my dork vest, proudly.

The book we just finished was The Last Lecture, by Randy Pausch. He was a professor that died of pancreatic cancer, but before he passed he gave a “last lecture” that was meant to leave a lasting impression with faculty and students, but more importantly leave bits of wisdom and advice to his children.

Here are some of my favorite pieces of Randy’s advice:

If there is an elephant in the room, introduce yourself! This one is funny to me, because this is how that works in my head - Hello there, Elephant. I’m Charlie Girl. You are big… Now let’s move on!!

If you think you can or can’t, you’re right. Attitude means so much.

Don’t piss on my back and tell me it’s raining. Oh, wait, that one is mine…

Don’t listen to what a man says, pay attention to what he DOES. This is one he directed to his daughter, she was only eighteen months old at the time, but he needed her to know that this would be important in her future. I agree.

I don’t want to give too many of them away, because then you won’t need to read the book! I will tell you, though, for all you non-nerds out there that for some reason don’t think sitting down a great book and a delicious hot drink sounds ah-may-zing, the lecture can also be you-tubed. I am not going to lie though… I will probably judge you just a little if you you-tube only…

Some Tread, Some Stomp

I recently met a girl that runs an eco-friendly business. She wispily announced that she "treads lightly on the earth's surface".

I am not "green"... in fact, I would consider myself more "red"... Red as in, "Danger! Danger! She is blowing her own personal hole in the Ozone!"

I realized just how hard I was stomping when I shut the shower off the other day and still heard water running; I looked over to see that I hadn't shut off the sink after brushing my teeth.

For the sake of my water bill, any potential children I may have in the very, very, very distant future and my new lightly treading friend... I will sincerely commit to making more of an effort.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go plant a tree.

House Cleaning

I decided that I needed to address the lotion/body spray/perfume "situation" I had going on in my closet when I reached up to find a flavor and about ten bottles came crashing down on my head... What you see above is the "situation" that I am referring to. Apparently my obsessions are not limited to Lip Gloss and Coffee.

I did some consolidating of half used bottle and threw out some that were nearly empty, empty or that had probably lost their scent since due to old age. But, while the end result now fits in three tubs and looks better, I am faced with a new dilemma...

I have a major issue with using non matching flavors. Love Spell lotion, for instance, has to be paired with its Love Spell Body Spray. So, now I have the urge to go out and get the missing counterpart. I know you think I must be crazy... and I am. I agree! But, I am a delicious smelling crazy chick!

...And The Award For "Office Moron" Goes To....

A girl in our office sent out a notice that we will be getting new company polos and requested that we respond as soon as possible with the size we would like. Now, thanks to the “Reply All” button, everyone that works from my company… from here to Florida… knows that I am not only a fast responder, but that I would like a size Large.

Fantastic way to make an impression with your new company.

Wake Up Call

This morning I was awaken by the most annoying sound in the whole world… my apartment buzzer makes the most awful noise and while at first I incorporated it into my dream, I finally realized that what I was hearing was real. I looked at the clock and it said 4:01. Now, I get up at 4:30 anyway, and I think if it was truly in the middle of the night, that might have mitigated my anger. But, since it was so close to when I had to get up, I just felt like I had been jipped out of my last 30 minutes!

The buzzing would not stop and I was getting so mad, but I was kind of scared too. My phone hadn’t rang, so I figured it wasn’t anyone I knew…

Finally, I got up and went to the intercom:

CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT!

SRG*: Uh… is this the Noggin residence?

CG: NO!!! SO QUIT FUCKING RINGING MY BELL!

I clearly have a foul mouth in the morning.

Then I got back into bed and began to get really scared… afterall, what if this guy is a homicidal nut job and I just pissed him off, and when I leave in 45 minutes to head to the gym he brutally beats me for being rude….

Then the buzzing began again.

CG: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW! YOU BETTER NOT RING MY BELL AGAIN! GO HOME ASSHOSE!!!!

SRG: I can’t go home, I LIVE IN ANKENY! (He apparently had had enough of my attitude as much as I had had enough of the buzzer and was going to yell back.) I LOCKED MY KEYS INSIDE!!!

CG: NOT MY PROBLEM! AND, I AM NOT GOING TO LET YOU IN, SO CALL A FRIEND, BUZZ ANOTHER APARTMENT.

Ahhh. Silence.

More fucking buzzing.

CG: I swear to God you asshole I am going to call the police.

SRG: Good, I don’t care, call them.

So I did. Three numbers in fact. AND GOT ANSWERING MACHINES! I didn’t feel like this was truly a 911 type of emergency, but I did make a mental note to find out what the non-emergency number was… since clearly my quick blackberry browser search yielded incorrect results….

Ahhh… Silence again. So, I gave up on the po-po. And, missed out on my final minutes of cozy, precious, sleep.

I am not going to lie though, I strategically placed keys in between each one of my fingers when I headed out this morning, just in case he was waiting for me…

* SRG: Some Random Guy

Misguided Comforts of Home

I have an amazing family; anyone that has ever spoken to me for more than five minutes has heard and anyone that has met them knows firsthand.

They are the family that you can be completely open and relaxed with. I know that if I called my parents tonight and said that I am moving home and intend to focus all of my time and money into an Alpaca farm, they would be supportive. If I shaved my head and tattooed my scalp, they would all laugh at me, but inevitably support me. In fact, I am fairly certain that they would unconditionally love me in any and all circumstances, except if I became a stripper… but, that is another story, another blog…

Being in Des Moines, though, with nobody that loves me like them has conditioned me to be a little more conservative in almost all aspects of my life. You just never know how people are going to take things, so I choose to let my freak flag fly at home and only truly let myself be free when I am around my fam.

This poses a problem, however, when it comes to shopping in Peoria. My sister and my mom get me all comfortable and tell me how great I am… then I try on something that is way to jazzy for my “Des Moines” self and those crazy asses convince me that I can totally pull it off. Well, let me tell you… The weekend comes to an end, I drive the four miserable hours through pockets of cow ass smell, back and find out that they lied to me!!

The first time this happened with a pair of huge-o Nicole Richie style sun glasses and some ridiculously high black heels. Both items were super cute… for someone other than me… This time it is a high waisted gray pencil skirt that wins the prize for inappropriate purchase of the weekend. There are two words that should never be uttered together when discussing items in my (or my grandma’s) closet… High and Waisted.

I can’t think of anything less flattering… but, thanks to my supporting, loving, misguiding, jackass family members, that is exactly what I have been rocking all day long.

Classroom Visit

I am headed home this weekend and because I have a client meeting Thursday night that will shave about three hours off my trip, I took off Friday too! I am so excited to have a chance to visit my mom’s classroom again, it has been awhile since I got to see all those cute little punks!

Like the boy that sat next to me in reading circle looking at me like a total creep… I had to cut reading circle short and ask to grade papers when he asked if I liked to be tickled…

Or, the boy that fell asleep about five minutes after getting to school and didn’t wake up the whole time I was there! I bet if he would have woken up, we would have really gotten along.

My favorite thing about visiting her classroom though is the letter that I get afterwards that say the most encouraging things...

Dear Chraallie: I luve you. Thank you come visting.

Charly: You face pretty. COME BACK!

To: Charlie – When coming back? I miss u or love u.

I can almost picture their little nugget faces, yelling “COME BACK!”...

I am on my way, you little weirdos!

She Works Hard For Her Money

It is our busy season at work… so tomorrow morning, when you all are in bed snuggled up warm and cozy… my alarm will be going off at 5:15, so I can make it to the gym by 6:00 and to work by 7:15. Please make note of the short transition times… I will be here, but I will be wearing my sweaty hat, no make up and probably some inappropriate-for-public-viewing clothes. But that is not what this post is about… I just wanted to tell you that so you can all feel sorry for me, as I am clearly feeling sorry for myself!

Wednesday I felt very smart… I was getting stuff done left and right. Yesterday I was practically rah-tarded. Seriously. I was trying to get stuff done, but for some reason or another things that I thought should take about five minutes, were taking about five hours. Today I am so/so. Actually, I am probably more on the retarded side, but yesterday prepared me, so I think I am being easier on myself. Hopefully tomorrow I will have my game face back on… that five hours for five minutes bullshit just isn’t going to cut it. One thing that makes me feel a little better about this Saturday business is the Starbucks that I will be picking up on the way in...

PUSHY PUSHY

This week is bring a friend week at my gym, so I was so excited when my friend Ryan joined me yesterday. Before they let guests take the Kickboxing class though, they have to do a step test to make sure they won’t die during the class. Well, maybe death is a little dramatic, but you get the point.

So near the end of the class Ryan started saying he couldn’t breathe and being the incredibly supportive friend I am, I just started yelling at him… “KEEP MOVING! COME ON, GO! GO! GO! NO WEAK ARMS, STRONG PUNCHES...” He was looking at me, panting. His eyes were pleading with me to shut the hell up… I just kept on with the yelling… “PUSH YOURSELF, THAT’S WHY YOU DID THE STEP TEST… YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE!”.

It is a good thing he is not asthmatic and didn’t really pass out… because I probably would have felt really bad.

Charlie-Girl Confidential

I am generally very carefully about not putting truly personal things in this lovely little blog. Like dating and any drama relating to said activity… Why, you ask? Well, frankly, because it isn’t any of your damn business!

I kid, I kid!

That is not really the reason.

Seriously, don’t be mad… Let’s hug it out.

There are really two reasons, the first being the most prevalent and that is there isn’t anything to tell. The second reason is, metaphorically speaking… I am the single mother and you are all my babies. I am not trying to bring a lot of random ass men in and out of your life. I love you too much to be a contributory factor to hundreds if not thousands of dollars of therapy bills when you are all grown up…

I have thought about starting another completely private and anonymous blog that allows me to speak freely of all my gory sexipades… but then, I remember that I don’t have gory sexipades and I am pretty sure nobody wants to have to access another site to read Dear Walmart letters or hear about how I cleaned the dust out of my vent covers last night. I really did… line by line with a 409’ed q-tip and I don’t want to sound crazy, but my lungs feel better today… but I digress.

So anyway, I have a date tomorrow. The best kind of date too… a lunch one and lunch ones come with a timer. There is no awkward “Well, what do you want to do after dinner…” discussion and no question in your head about if you lean in for a quick hug or give the head (slightly cocked to the side) grateful nod… A lunch date ends in an hour and with a good firm handshake.

Don’t get all excited though, my track record of first dates would indicate that there is about a 98.7% chance of not getting asked on a second… maybe I should consider ditching the “good firm handshake”…

Dear Walmart

We need to talk. First of all, I want you to know that I am not trying to start a fight. I love you and you should know that I am only asking this question out of a sincere desire to get to know you better.

How does it happen that every time I visit you, I spend anywhere from $70 to $100 dollars? Even when I am just running in and “picking something up”?

You lure me with all of your cost saving goodness, but I never fail to walk out of your proverbial loving arms without looking at my receipt pondering what just happened; feeling cheap and used…

I am not asking for anything special, just the necessities… I don’t want to break up, but I definitely need some answers.

Sincerely,

Charlie-Girl

Girls Night At The Races

Why Girl's Night at the races, you ask?!? Well, simply because we had never been, and what more of an excuse do you need for an adventure than that!

I was channeling my inner Baby from Dirty Dancing right here... awkwardly announcing "I brought the beer..." in order to fit in. Hey, beer to a race is more appropriate than watermelons to a dance! Give me some credit! Please note my completely inappropriate shoes... Inappropriate because they make my already ungodly tall ass about 4 inches taller... but also because they are not conducive to climbing bleachers or parking a mile a way from your destination. I am a genius, clearly.

My giant face and I were so excited to be there! It brought out childlike characteristics in me... like enthusiasm and apparently ignorance... as I announced loudly "So, is there a half time or something?!"




But any embarrassment was forgotten when I met this sexy man... or, um... goat... no, man, I think, definitely man. Men like this crack me up... the cajones on this guy as he and his friend confidently approach us to tell us they had been watching us since we had taken our seats when we first got there... then asked if they could have a picture... Really!? Of course, being the accommodating girl I am, I obliged. Always happy to please a goat, after all.

We did eventually make it back to watch some of the race and Ohhh EEMMMM GEEE... this happened! A real wreck. Right in front of me. See, here again, note the childlike characteristics... excitement and ignorance all rolled up into one. Yes, this is exciting, but there happens to be a person in that fast moving object that is on fire! So, rather than announce how effing awesome I think it is, I should take this into account and keep my mouth shut... and just secretly think it!

Heeeeeeeeelloooo Mr. Motorcycle Guy

Ok… so I was driving back to work from Downtown and of course I was texting…. And there was a motorcycle behind me, which makes it even worse. OK, before you beat me up, just listen!

So, I pull in and get out and the motorcycle guy has followed me to work and is parked behind me… So, I brace myself for getting a lecture about texting and driving… But nope, he just wanted to talk about how I like my Altima because he was thinking about getting one… and then ask me out!

Ha, nice cover with the Altima, buddy... He was driving a BMW Motorcycle, something tells me he is not in the market for a sedan!

For The Charlie-Girl Soul

I heard two of the very best things today... "You're beautiful" and "I am proud of you". *Deep sigh.* Such great words.

The world may not think those things about me. Cynics may say I don't have a lot to be proud of. Even worse... I may not even think those things about myself... But, those people believed it enough to say it... and my heart feels simply delicious.

Abdalla

Abdalla is a cab driver here in Des Moines. He was our cab driver one night and was so nice that he became our "go to" cabbie. I have called him when there are huge cab lines and he is there in an instant... it is pretty fantastic.

Abdalla is so great, in fact, that there have been times when we call him even when we don't need a ride! We just call him to tell him we are good for the night. Now, I understand that calling the cab driver to say hi and let him know you won't be calling later might be a little weird... but when you find someone good, you just can't let that go!!

So, last night I am laying in bed and my text message goes off:

Abdalla: Do you still live in town?

CG: Hi doll!:) Yes, I also understand that these types of nicknames may be the reason for the late night text........ but, again, when you find good help.......ok, whatever, shut up. Quit judging me! Yep, I just haven't gone out for a while. April and I went to Ames today for the game, so I couldn't make it out tonight...

Abdalla: Oh, it's cool. I just missed you and wanted to make sure you were OK!

CG: Awe, thank you! So sweet! We will see you soon, I am sure.

Abdalla: OK! Keep smiling and have a wonderful night. Hopefully you won't have a hangover tomorrow!

I think that Yellow Cab Company should put Mr. Abdalla on a commercial and market their incredible attention to personal client attention........

Tailgate Recap

Here is the group! Lil'Bird, Ryan, Nicole, Charlie-girl and Ms. Becky. We boarded the bus to head to Ames at 6:00 AM.... which meant two things. First that I had to get up at 3:59... I am tired right now just thinking about the fact that I did that... Second, that I had my first beer at about 6:01 AM... Generally when I am drinking and it is dark outside, it is not because the sun hasn't come up yet... but it is football season, so you do what you gotta do!!!
Obviously the Iowa/Iowa State rivalry is strong, but while fan support is clearly defined, we can all enjoy the time spent anticipating the game together!
When the group pictures turned from the gorgeous group shot above to scenes of debauchery like this, at about 8:30 AM none the less... I knew that I was in for a very long day.



So, I did what I do at parties... Excuse myself for a little nap.

I may disappear for a nap occasionally, but don't discount me that easily! I get back up and rock it out!