Wednesday, June 30, 2010

County Line

As far as I'm concerned there are 3 areas of Kentucky: Lexington, Louisville, and Somewhere.

Seriously, if you/it is not from the first two, then I really don't know where in the state that exactly is. And this is just how most of us who grew up in Lexington and Louisville think. We grew up in a city and we know our own county, but that's about it.

However, if you grew up "Somewhere," then you're from a county. And these somewhere folk get a little miffed at us city folk for not knowing where they are from. Because not only do they know their own county, they know all the surrounding ones, what counties Lexington (Fayette) and Louisville (Jefferson) are, and they know what part of the state that is too.

This is a conversation you have quite often in Lexington/at UK:
Where are you from?
So&so: I grew up in Madison/Laurel/Webster county.
Me: I really don't know where that is.
So&so: Oh it's right next to Estill/Clay/Hopkins county.
me: Yeah.... that doesn't really help...
so&so: ::sigh:: East/West/South/Northern Kentucky.
Me: Oh, ok sure (still no real idea though).

In fairness, there are 120 counties in Kentucky. Like all the somewheres know where all the other somewheres are either.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Ode to Coffee

As much as some people love coffee (myself included), just as many others loathe it. And there are plenty of others who have no opinion either way and live without it somehow. Dr soc falls into the last group. He doesn't drink it himself but he doesn't really have an opinion about it either. So he doesn't keep coffee or a way of making it in his house. And why would he really? A girlfriend of mine suggested I get a coffeemaker and the accoutrement for his place. Perhaps he should get me that for my birthday... Though this flies directly in the face of my appliance/practical gift veto...

However, in the morning, I need a cup of coffee. I get a lack of caffeine headache if I don't have any within a few hours of waking up. So when I spend the night over there, I usually have to leave fairly soon after I wake up. Not only so we can both get ready for our days in peace, but also because I'm going to need caffeine soon enough.

He knows this and it's no big deal. He's never once tried to tell me coffee is evil (no it's not, it's actually good for you), that caffeine is a monster (I love that monster. I pet and love and feed that monster) or that it smells great but tastes awful (which is not true because it both smells and tastes like heaven). But once I was just about to leave and I could feel the beginnings of a headache starting to form. Knowing that a headached Sarah is not a happy Sarah, he mentions that he may have some instant stuff if I really need it.

And while it was very sweet of him to try to attend to my plight, the second he mentioned instant I responded with a: "Oh god no!

Saturday, June 26, 2010

America's Pastime

I love going to baseball games. Mind you, I don't want to play and would rather watch paint dry then watch a game on tv. But I love going to a stadium. Though there's something about the food at a baseball stadium that just makes me eat.

And when I eat at a baseball game, I EAT. I went to a Reds game with my chapter once, and here is what I ate: a hot dog, beer, a pretzel, I helped a friend with their nachos, and my boyfriend at the time had a bag of peanuts that I kept helping myself too (he said I could-and even if he didn't it wouldn't have mattered, sharing food w/Sarah is implied when you date me). We're in the 7th or 8th inning when the cotton candy guy walks by and I say "Oh , I want that too!"
At that point my boyfriend looked over at me with a mixture of slight amazement and slight horror and goes "my god! Where do you put all of that?"

Anyway, yesterday I went to baseball game with some friends because the seats were $2. Yep, local event, America's pastime, cheap (I made up for the ticket cost in food but whatev), fun times with friends, so, rock. Well, it being a baseball game, I have to have a hot dog. You have to get a hot dog at a baseball game. (No, I don't know what's in them, no I don't want to find out. So don't be that douche who feels the need to ruin it m'kay). And also, I had to have a beer because of course I do.

My high school band runs the concession stands for the stadium, so I like to patronize them and help out. But the line I was in was taking fo-ev-er and all I want is a beer and hot dog. So I finally get up the register, smile and place my order. Yeah, the line was slow, but I don't have to be an asshole to the guy because of it. I have my id ready because they card anyone who looks under 30, and I know I look like young.

First the guy asks me to take out my id from my wallet, which is fine. Then he takes it from me and keeps looking at it, the picture, and me.
dude: "Is this your sister?"
me: "no." (and she's younger and than me anyway, and she's legal too, so whatever).
dude: "There are no freckles in this picture."

I got this new license when my wallet was stolen in March, I'm wearing my glasses in it, and you can't see freckles in a driver's license picture anyway. And now by this point, I've been waiting 15 minutes in line just to order and now this guy my dad's age is all but accusing me of having fake id. So I get pissy and attitudy with him.

me: "I've been sunbathing this summer. Believe it, I am 27 years old."

He gives me a doubtful look and rings in the beer anyway as I stare him down with a stony look. We finally get to our seats and I text dr soc about what went down because I was pretty agitated. And he was offend to the proper level that a boyfriend should be and sympathetically texed back that the beer probably wasn't even worth it was it?

me: "no, it was definitely not worth my level of indignation."

Thursday, June 24, 2010


Dudes, have you watched the show hoarders? That sh*t is f*cked up.

My friends told me about it but I didn't start watching it until recently until one night * with dr soc. We were fascinated, disgusted and drawn in like a moth to a flame. It's now our Monday night date.

The only small caveat is that now dr soc has this little tiny fear that yours truly has the potential of being a hoarder. That is, once he discovered the true nature of my housekeeping. The first time he came over I cleaned for company like you do. But since we always stay at his place, well, I haven't been as meticulous you could say. We were going out of town but before we left I needed to grab something from my room. Not wanting to be left alone with his girlfriend's dad, he followed me upstairs. I quickly warned him he would see the true nature of my room...and now, little scared of the potential hoarding.

Needless to say, my clutter/scatter tendencies are something he teases me about now. So every now and again if the subject of cleaning comes up he'll mention how non-hoarding is a good thing too.
And my mature response is: I do no hoard! I just have a lot of keepsakes. And a need to clutter every sq inch of horizontal surface.

* that same night there was a sneak peak of the show Obsessed which is about OCD, which was equally as horrifying/fascinating. At some point I looked over at him and said" this is the most romantic tv we have ever watched.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Domestic Bliss

In honor of national pink day (seriously):

We are not registering for the pink mixer!
me: Yes we are. We are registering for the ubiquitous mixer that everyone puts on their registry. And I want it in pink.
x: I want the mixer too. But not pink.
me: And what exactly do you plan to mix in the mixer anyway?
x: (hangs head in defeat)
me: ::claps hands:: Right! The mixer's going to be pink. Oh and the blender has to match to by the way.

And with that, I flounced away utterly triumphant.
Moral of the story: when it comes to housewares, don't mess with me.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010


Another reason I like dr soc: he trusts me.

The other morning he watched me take my birth control pill. It's part of my morning routine and he knows that I'm on it, so whatever. He may have good naturally said something along the lines of "phew" or "please don't forget that," but it didn't phase me.

So how does that relate to a trust issue?

Because I then said to him: "can I tell you how nice it is that you don't ask me "did you take your pill" every day?"
He responded with "oh, well, I'm sure I can find something else annoying to ask you about."
Which I'm sure is true and I'll find out eventually what that is. But in seriousness, I told him some of my boyfriends had asked me that question almost every day. And I whenever they did, I thought: give me some credit here.

Think about it dudes, if I'm going to be responsible and proactive about my reproductive rights, what makes you think I'm not going to take it correctly? And on top of that, they only knew the half of it. Sure they knew I had to take it everyday, but they had no idea you need to take it w/in the same time frame every day as well. So if they asked me before the right time and I would say that I hadn't taken it yet, they would flip the fck out. Believe me, I'm going to take the pill correctly because I didn't want to get pregnant either, a lot more so than you.

So when these boyfriends asked me "did you take your pill," to me it meant: I don't trust you.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Found: One Set of Big Girl Pants

I told him I love you. ::eep::
He said them back!

There wasn't candle light or a 1000 tulips and neither of us were wearing anything remarkable or memorable. The moment was there, it was right and it was easy.

Though after he said them back, he said he "already knew though."

Waaaaait a second, if he already knew and felt the same way back, why the hell didn't he say anything first?
Eh, semantics. I love him. He loves me.
Life's good.

Sunday, June 20, 2010


**I originally posted this on the 13th, but since it's father's day I am yanking it for today's post**

Conversation between me and my mom after I meet Dr soc's parents:
Mom: So, what did his parent's think about you?
Me: They're really nice and seem to like me enough. He said his dad liked me right away.
Mom: Yeah, dad's always like you.
Me: umm, ew?

She recalled the Eagle Ceremony (boy scouts) that we all went to when I was in high school. And it was prom season and people thought the newly winged eagle didn't have a date yet. Turns out he did, he had asked her the day or 2 before, but you know boys, they don't talk about things like that. But I'm there and I'm holding court in my own high school way with my peer group and the rest of the dads start elbowing eagle's dad and say " why doesn't he ask her there?"

But I guess she's right in a way. Because I think most of my boyfriend's parents have like me. Well, not all of them liked me, but they figured I wasn't a bad person and didn't really form an opinion on me good or bad. And while I know it's ultimately the mom I really need to impress and get to like me, having the dad's good graces never really hurt the process.

But still, it sounds a little creepy.

Anyway, Happy Fathers Day!

Saturday, June 19, 2010

My Own Sophie's Choice. Sorta

My favorite animal in the whole wide world is Bailey. Duh

But I'm having a hard time figuring out what my 2nd most favorite animal is.
I'm torn between a dragon and a unicorn.

I know, right? How do you choose? * Both are supposedly "mythical," but they both have Harry Potter references (and those books are awesome), which totally makes them real.

So on one hand, I have dragons. And dragon's are pretty bad ass. They breath fire, have scales, are great battle artillery and how unbelievably awesome would it be to fly through the skies on one? Yeah. Bad. Ass. You don't 'eff with a dragon. Or a person who has one for that matter either.
yeah, like you'd mess with this bamf

On the other hand, unicorns are the ethereal formation of pure good. They have sparkly flowing manes and can fly over rainbows. And take you to Candy Mountain. Riding on the back of one of those things is pretty cool too I bet. Sorta "I'm on a horse" old spice commercial style but way better because it's a unicorn.

I am magical!

Sure you may look all heroic if you slay a dragon, especially if it's in order to win the hand of the fair maiden/princess (though considering a dragon might be this princess's 2nd most favorite animal, slaying a dragon may not be the smartest idea. Just saying). But I'd rather tame the thing for my own bidding and use it to scare people. And if you slay a unicorn you make baby Jesus cry. And bring a curse to your land too. So you look like an ass hole.

Dragons, or unicorns? Bad ass or Candy Mountain? How can I choose? This may have to end in a draw.

* your boyfriend will choose for you sometimes. Mine has at least. Dr soc believes he already figured this matter out for me and that clearly dragons are obvious choice.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

OMG, I h8 that.

I hate text talk. It's one of my (many) pet peeves, I usually just find it annoying. Some of my friends do it, but as they are my friends and I don't judge them for it.

I do shorten when I need to and abbreviate for twitter, so I don't spell out every single thing. And I do use btw, wtf, occasionally lol, and fyi in some text messages as well. But fyi was an acronym before it was a text thing in my defense. I also use lol speak on occasion, but that's just funny and amuses me.

The bane of my text existence is: what r u up 2 2nite? It just makes me gag a little bit.

And can I say how much I love that dr soc also hates text talk? OMG, it's so nice to get a message with no acronyms. It's something we discovered about each other early on and we were both pretty happy that the other one wasn't a culprit of a pet peeve. We may text some long messages, but everything is spelled out and the there are no 2s, 2nite, 4, b, b4, 4ever, r, h8 or u. God, how we h8 the u for you.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010


Whoever said money can't buy happiness is a liar. Because I just spent a little over $100 at the Victoria's Secret semi annul sale and I am positively giddy about that.

So the semi-annual sale (SAS) started today and I went shopping. Of course I did. Though in fairness to my lack of patience, if I don't go within the first day or two they run our of my size. Seriously. The sale always starts on a Tuesday and once I waited to go on that upcoming Saturday and they had sold out. There was plenty of my sister size though which was fine, because of course I did not leave empty handed.

I've been shopping at Victoria's Secret since I was 16, when I barely had anything to fit in there. Long before the days I had a woman's figure and knew how to best utilize some of my assets. So I am a serious underwear shopper. Normally I approach my SAS shopping with a divide and conquer type gusto. Your personal bubble means nothing to me, I will not move when you want the bin I'm looking at, and I will take something you were just about to grab because I saw it first. I have gone to the SAS by myself, with girl friends and with my sister, and I will use the same tactics to strongarm some stranger away from my posse's possible shopping purchases. Oh yeah, you totally want me on your team when it's time to underwear shop.

It was a madhouse. A lacy, silky satiny, colorful, under-wire and mesh madhouse. When it's that crazy I feel perfectly justified in using my bullish tactics. But today I was a little nicer in that I didn't snatch anything from anyone and I talked to another women there. We needed different sizes so if we found one the other needed we passed them to each other, otherwise I probably wouldn't have been as nice. (I admit to feeling a little smug when I told her my size and her eye popped a little)

The only thing that disturbed me a little was the mass amounts of mother/daughter teams there. Which, to me the whole concept of buying sexy little things with your mom is a little creepy in my opinion. It's one thing to get lingerie in front of your mom at say, your bridal shower. It's another thing to buy it with her. And we're not talking mine and my mom's ages pairs, I'm talking about mom and her 13 year old shopping together. I understand buying the right kind of underwear to wear under a formal dress with your mom concept/outing. But I think those girls should juniors in high school, so 16 at the very youngest. And I know high school starts when you are about 14, but 14 year olds are not supposed to be sexy.

So besides that, it was a great shopping experience for me. I'm going to a different store later in the week with a friend too for another super fun time. I think it's a safe bet to say I'll attack that trip with as much gusto as this afternoon's.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Vampire Boyfriend

True Blood season 3 came back last night. Sweet Jesus the wait is over!

First I will say I love that my boyfriend is tall dark and handsome. I look at dr soc I just think "oh me want." And I've always been attracted to darker hair guys, even though I've probably dated more blonds (or mousy hair) than anything else.

But as soon as 6'4" pale gorgeous powerful Eric Northman shows up on screen I think "I looooove him." And I find the whole he could kill me thing strangely attractive.

I don't ask questions. I just want.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Blood Sweat and Tears

What an odd day so far.

First, remember when my wallet was stolen? I filed a uk police report so there would be a record of the theft, even though I figured I would never see the wallet or it's contents again. But the other day I received an email saying it had been found and returned to the Johnson Center (the scene of the crime). So I went to the gym today and picked it up, and everything was still in there. Everything as in my driver's license, my school id, all my credit cards, my kroger plus and blockbuster card (even I didn't know I still had one of those) a few old receipts and my bus pass was still taped exactly how I left it. Everything except the bus pass was canceled, invalid or no longer usable, so my bet is that this girl used that for the remainder of the semester because my wallet was "found" *returned* right after the bus pass expired.

Well, anyway I go work out and have a good run. My ipod is on it's last legs but that's another blog. I decided to do the plyo-boxes, and I was on my 3rd or 4th jump of the really tall one when I missed. BAD. My shins hit the edge of the box then slid down the lip of the it. I cried out, caught and held myself up with my arms and then tossed myself into a seated position on the lowest box. I looked at my throbbing, bleeding shins and desperately tried to hold back tears. Blood, sweat and tears never seemed more appropriate.

Other than my pride being mortally wounded, I'll heal soon enough. So I ease my way to the bus stop and figure I have about 10 minutes before it comes. I then proceed to wait 50 minutes in the blazing sun for it. A lady bug tried to crawl up my shorts, and I really really needed lunch too. I'm bleeding and in pain, I'm tired and hot, hungry and not in the mood to bug swat my pelvic region. So I texted/vented my frustration to dr soc that I couldn't decide if I was going to stab or cry.

Shortly after receiving that, he called to check up on me and make sure I was ok. Which really helped defuse my frustration and made me feel a lot better. And even though my legs and pride have seen better days, I'm pretty touched and happy that I have a boyfriend who cares.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Three Little Words

I really want to say those 3 little words. But what if I don't hear them back?
So I'm waiting for him to say them first.

Part of me is saying: wait it out, don't make yourself that vulnerable.

And the other part is saying put on the big girl pants and just tell him. I know he cares, trusts me, likes me a whole lot and is falling too. Maybe he's in the exact same place as me and is waiting for me to say it.

But then there's the whole issue of when is the right time to say them? They certainly don't count before, during or after sx. But how far before and how long after? And it doesn't count if both or either of us are drunk. But what about a glass of wine to lower the inhibitions? (a glass of wine makes me tipsy people. Yes. I know) And it doesn't have to be this huge declaration for the whole world to hear or a big production elaborately set up with candle light and rose petals (though I would like to be looking pretty if it happens). But it's still a moment you know?

I've had to catch myself a few times and bit my tongue as well. I think he knows I'm doing that too because we all know I chatter like a monkey. I have a feeling it's just going to slip out and I'm going to turn bright red when I realize what I did. And still, what if he doesn't say it back? I don't want another now what? moment with him.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

4 weeks

4 weeks. That's how my summer is broken up, in 3 separate 4 week increments of class. I just finished one 4 week session (fyi, now I see why you need an override to take 2 of these classes simultaneously, I don't recommend it). The next 4 week class starts the day after tomorrow (I thought it was an 8 week but nope, turns out it's 4). And then then a different/another 4 week of class the day after the middle class is done. (I'm taking 14 credit hours this summer)

And then I have 20 days between the end of that class and the start of fall semester.

Me want frozen yummy drink.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Go "There"

(This is sorta a 2 stories for the price of one blog btw)

Both my parent's wear some sort of corrective lens. Mom wears contacts and Dad wears bifocals he picked out in the 70's and refuses to change the frame style 40+ years later. So in 4th grade science class when we started taking baby steps into the world of genetics and hereditary traits, I knew that with both my parents eyes, it was only a matter of time before I would need glasses myself.

Two years later I got glasses and my eyesight continued to worsen for the next couple of years after that. Though they finally stabilized when I was in college. My prescription is fairly strong, strong enough that I cannot do anything without my glasses on. I'm uses to having some of the worst eyes in the group of people who wear corrective lenses group.

Turns out Dr Soc has even worse eyes. Almost 3x more worse then mine. Our kids are screwed. And when I told my friend that thought process she said: "oh, you went 'there.'"
Yeah. Opps. Didn't mean to do that quite so soon.

But then here's this: the other night Dr Soc and I went to dinner with some of my high school friends and the concept of twins came up. This concept horrified us all, from how comically huge we (the women) would grow if having twins, to raising two kids exactly the same age at the same time (that was more the men). Dr soc leans over and asks me:
Twins don't run in your family do they?
Me: No. Yours?
r soc: No.
oth of us: Phew.

So yeah, I went there. But it looks like he is a little too.

Friday, June 4, 2010

I'm All Ears

So get this: dr soc listens. And not only does he listen to all the babble that spills out of my mouth, he remembers it too.

I mean really? Who does that? Certainly not any other guy I've ever dated. (I could say the same thing 100 times and it never sunk in. Which was a blessing and a curse because I could pull the "I told you this already card" and guilt would take over from there, but also I was disappointed when I hinted I wanted someone to throw me a birthday party and instead they scheduled an extra band practice)

But when I realized dr soc listened, I told him that really only about 30% of what I say is actually important. Everything else is just fluff (or judging which he does not find endearing).

And to prove my point, the other night we're out with my friends, and one of my girlfriends tells her husband that "he isn't married to Sarah so he can't pretend to listen (like he did to her)."

And I pipe in with a "he listens!" and point to dr soc.

To which dr soc says: "didn't you say though that only 30% is important?"

See what I mean? Crap, I'm going to have to find more things to talk about now!

Thursday, June 3, 2010


Last night a few people we've had issues with at work came in again for the first time in a long time. I heard the tell-tale bratty cry and outwardly groaned in defeat. Fortunately they didn't stay too long, but they were there long enough to cause some serious angst and me to judge them.

Because this is what I thought to myself when I saw them sit down:

You know, I would not sell these kids to the gypsies. Not because that's supposedly wrong and frowned upon.
No, I wouldn't sell these kids because they are such wretched little cretins that they wouldn't even get me a good price.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Status Symbol

For my 10 year reunion that I didn't actually want to go to in the first place, I planned on taking my dr friend as my "date" so that way I could say I was dating a dr. (What? I'm a status wh()re. Also: so what that's she's female and that it's not legal in Kentucky). There was that time I thought I could be a pharmacist and said why be the dr's wife when I can be the dr myself? (And then I realized I'm not smart enough to be pharmacist or any other sort of dr anyway). But it didn't matter, because neither dr friend or I could even go to the reunion, let alone as each other's "date."

And it turns out, I managed to get a dr all on my own anyway.

Though even if I had gone to the reunion (instead of having the bestest time ever in Napa) I probably wouldn't have taken him with me. We weren't anywhere close to official at that point and besides, you don't bring the man you've been seeing for 1 month to your 10 year reunion.