No bride here

Just breathe. Just breathe. Crap. It's here.

I knew this would day would come. I knew it would hurt like fuck too. Right now I'm on the beach, far far away. I have a ton of books (plus re-reading all my Sookie ones) sunbathing, and probably (totally) judging people behind my sunglasses. I'm doing things that make me happy. So I'm trying to not go to the dark place. And I'm saying to myself, look at it this way, I haven't gotten married any other day of my life, so this isn't anything notable right? Right.

But I still get to be sad today. I'm sad that I don't get to wear my beautiful wedding gown today. I'm sad I don't get a champagne toast. I'm sad I don't get to say "I do" in front of our families and friends. I'm sad that I'm sad on what I thought would be the happiest day of my life (so far).

But I'm relieved I didn't make the biggest mistake of my life. May 30 2009 will most likely always strike a (dis)cord with me, but it will pass. And life goes on.

My head hurts

So ex has been in my dreams the past 4 nights. I wasn't dreaming about him, but he was there. But last night, it was definitely about him. We were back in our old apartment, Bailey running around, and his family was hanging around too. I was wearing scrubs, so it was like we were in the same place from a year ago. I honestly don't remember what was going on in the dream, except that the wedding kept coming up. So much that I wasn't sure if I had called it off.

I woke up w/a headache. Obviously, I know why I'm dreaming this. And the week's almost over, I can get through this (baring no more old men tell me not to get married and make me cry).

But I can't help and wonder if he even knows what this weekend was.

Summer Reading

Today I got a small taste of what summer is like at the library. Besides sort and shelve, here's what else I did today:

• Told a kid to get down from the railing mid hoist (the railing surrounds the atrium, a fall = broken bones (and maybe lawsuits))
• Later notice the same kid didn't have her shoes on.
• Shush the kid yelling at her brother "hush! Mom, make him be quite!"
  
• Later we had to tell those two to stop hitting each other
• Told two different kids (at least I think they were different) to stop running (but that happens nightly).
• And I got the snot annoyed out of me by a 7th grader (who probably weighs more then me).

Somewhere in there I found a pair of worn baby socks tossed onto a shelf, and an 15" rubber tube that I have no idea what for (and I don't think I want to know either). I also don't want to know why the books smell like burning. And the get-the-hell-out-of-here (closing) music for some reason was ridiculously loud tonight. Ear bleeding loud.

Overall, it was just a loud night. And apparently, this is just a smidgen of what summer reading is. Thought I can't say I wasn't warned about the crazy.

Summer Reading officially starts Monday.

Hold me.

Cravings

Being a woman of a certain age, if you ever utter the phrase "I'm craving such and such," people's typical response is a snarky "maybe you're pregnant." (and by the way, that sh*t started in high school. Wrong on many levels, because A) I didn't loose the Vcard until college, and B) we know my stance on unwed pregnancy now, you think I would be get pregnant as a teenager?!?)

Today I was having a craving as I am wont to do (and will indulge myself as I am also wont to do). (Plus with the patience 5 year old, I do not do delayed gratification well). But I didn't say anything about having any sort of craving because I didn't want the preggo speculation comments. But if they knew what I was craving then I think it would pretty obvious I'm not in the family way. Because you know what I really wanted more than anything a few hours ago?

Bourbon.
(Woodford Reserve on the rocks thanksyouverymuch. I may have the tolerance of a newly pledged sorority girl, but dammit, I drink like a grownup. (actual tweet from me))

Upkeep

Now first, let me say that it is summer and I would be shaving anyway. My penchant for open toes shoes keeps my toes polished. My love of sunglasses is what prompts me to put in my contacts. And I'm trying to keep in shape to run a 6k in July. But I will fully admit that I wouldn't be as meticulous as I have been with the upkeep if I wasn't dating someone.

I know at times I've gone to work with my hair hastily thrown in a pony tail and little makeup. And honestly, I still do that on days I know I won't see library guy. But I don't mind really, I've always liked getting pretty and taking a little time to fix myself up. But there's one area that I absolutely credit to dating someone. I sure as hell didn't care if I was wearing cute underpinnings a few months ago.

How Much Does My Dog Love Me?

This morning I did the Humane Society's 12th annual Mutt Strut. The things you learn about once you have a dog. 12th annual? I had no idea this thing existed! (fun fact, 53% of Lexington's population owns a dog, cat or both. Yay, I'm in the majority now!)

Well anyway, I basically paid $20 to walk my dog around Keeneland (however we did not get to walk where the ponies walk like I did for my race). But it's for a good cause, and my dog gets to go on a w-a-l-k and meet other dogs. Win-win. Motion sickness pill ingested (yeah, I have to give Bailey a motion sickness pill for car rides. Seriously, I have a ridiculously "special" dog), we head off for the fundraiser. There were lots of dogs, all sorts of shapes, sizes, colors, and temperaments (it made me happy to see so many people had mutts). My dog? Is an instigator. She sniffs, licks, then runs away. Well, as far as she could run on her 6' leash (so not far).

God's little joke on all if us? Rain showers. You know what's stinky? Over 100 wet (but happy) dogs. But who cares, because my dog in all her excitement, now looks like this:

Exhausted. And stinky. But cute. Ahh, good day! Thanks mom!

Careful what you say

On my way to a friend's house, I decided I needed an iced coffee from Starbucks (because caffeine would totally help my irritability.) But there's an older guy in there, somewhere around my dad's age probably. He was with his daughter, who was probably close to my age, maybe a little younger, and her boyfriend. For some reason he starts a conversation with me and ask where I'm from, and then asked have I traveled any.

"Where's the furthest you've been?"

"Australia."

He continues with traveling is amazing, and "the best thing is to travel to far away places. You want to know what the secret is for that? Don't get married."

Slightly taken aback, I shake my head and say, "you picked the wrong girl to say that to. God, so the wrong girl."

"Why, you married? Getting married?"

"Um, I was getting married this up coming Saturday. At the church literally up the road. I had the dress and everything"

He starts trying to back peddle and joke a little, but I'm clearly sending the please leave me alone vibe. Before he left though, he apologized and he felt bad enough that he bought my coffee. And I'm pretty sure his daughter was reaming him when they left.

I'm ok now, but it was odd. And a little unnerving.

Sigh, I just need to make it through this week.

Nerd Alert

Yesterday while in algebra class, my teacher starts talking about a way to solve a problem. I started thinking of other ways too, and thought to myself:

"Hmm, could we use the substitution method? Oh I love the substitution method!
WHOA.
Oh wow, I'm a dork. No, wait. This is beyond dorky.

Oh my God. I'm a NERD."

Not willing to accept my nerd status fully, later that afternoon I decided to do my math home work while sunbathing. Because nothing thwarts nerdy like a tiny bikini.

Haute Couture

I do not claim to be a fashionistia. I can don a fabulous dress like anyone else and I can pull together a look on my own. I tend to stick with classics because they are timeless and it's hard to mess those up. But styling myself isn't my strongest suit. I can usually tell when something is wrong with an outfit, but I can't tell what exactly is wrong (examples: the fabrics don't match, coloring's off, wrong shoes...) or how to fix it. I seriously miss my old roomie because she would tell me exactly what was wrong and how to fix it. Once I walked out of my room, she took one look at me and said "No" and did the turn around sign thing with her finger. Bitchy, yes but I appreciated that she didn't want me leaving the house badly/inappropriately dressed.

But even I know this: socks with crocs? NO

PS: '94 called, it wants it's flannel back

past thinking

I have 5 email accounts: personal/fun, spam(yahoo), work, school, facebook. And I check them all regularly (well, I only check the facebook one when my yahoo/spam account tells me I have a message). But, umm, I'm scared of my school account. Because I got nothing but useless and crappy news from my first school account. So clearly, I'm terrified of this school account.

I've gotten nothing but adviser stuff, project updates, security updates, normal college emails (and occasionally dirty spam). Nothing bad has come by way of this email account. But it's once bitten twice shy. I'm doing well in school this time, (first semester final grades: solid B average!) and I have to remember:

UK is not UC.

I have no reason to be scared of this email account. But there's some trepidation still. I have to will myself to check it at least once a week (when I admit to being an email junkie), and I get a smidgen nervous when I do.

Yesterday I sent an email to my adviser with good news/questions about my summer classes. And later that night I logged on to see if he had responded. He told me how to proceed with my scheduling, and wished me luck. All good/helpful things from there.

See? No scary.

Self Medication

Today at work I know I was crinkling up my nose a lot because I constantly felt like I was going to sneeze. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, I feel that way a lot at work. Because you never know what kind of place the materials are going to. They even go to people with cats. (btw, why does no one believe that I'm allergic? There is a real reason I don't care for cats. I don't like pets that make my eyes water and I have to take a pill to breathe comfortably around) But today my face (especially the inside of my nose) felt itchy too, which is out out of the ordinary. And my hair felt weird and unruly today too, which is just odd in general. I thought I was just tired, which gave me a reason for the clumsy (because who knocks their head on a book shelf? Me.), but that didn't account for the wayward hair or itchy face.

Then it occurred to me, oh yeah, allergy season is upon us (and Kentucky is a hell hole for allergies). I typically keep a couple different types of OTC medication in my purse just in case. What kind of pharmacist/drug dealer would I be if I didn't? I root around in the darkness of my bag an pull out my little pill pack (It's brightly colored so I can find it faster). And along side my generic pain relievers, there's a generic benadryl and two unbranded white tablets in their blister packs. I knew that the benadryl would exhaust me even further that I already was, so I didn't want to take that. That left the two while pills w/no labeling. I flip them over to see if they have a their name on it, but the only words on the back of the pack were a few mgs of loratadine. Which sounded like allergy medication to me. So I shrugged my shoulders and without another thought popped one of them.

My face did stop itching, the nose crinkling stopped some, and my hair feels somewhat normal, so it worked from that stand point. But now I'm even more tired and I have a slight case of cotton mouth. So I'm pretty sure I took an allergy pill, I just have no idea which one.

Sister Size

I'm somewhat an odd bust size, so I buy the sister size because it's a lot more common. Things weren't fitting quite as well the past few months, so I figured I had dropped both a band and cup size. I was in the mall the other day, and I decided to get refitted so I could shop more efficiently the semi annual sale (which starts June 16 btw).
Side note: I shop to conquer sale time. I will snatch things out from under you if I want it.

Remember when I said no one would feel sorry for me because my "skinny jeans" didn't fit anymore? And that my chest was a little smaller (cries)? And the other day I wanted to say I'm skinny because I earned it? Irony, apparently, had made me it's bitch. Because I did slim down everywhere. Except there. I did loose a band size, but...umm not so much the other part.

Since I can hold a grudge for-ev-er (I may have no idea why I'm mad at some people, but dammit, I was mad at some point and I'm going to stay that way! (hmm, this doesn't sound healthy...)), here's a little smirk in a particular direction.

Eww

I got out of class a few minutes early today (btw, math teachers in general, amuse me) so I was flip-flopping as fast as I could to the bus stop, hoping I could catch it. Yesterday I literally missed it by seconds, I was on the wrong side of the street and saw it go by. Obviously, I have to cross the street, and I need to cross 2 to get to this particular stop (UK steps for those of you that know campus). These are not streets you mosey across, you wait at the cross walk or risk being hit. There were 2 guys, one of them much older than me, in a golf cart right next to crosswalk button. Since I didn't see the been-pressed-light on, I assumed I had to press the button**. But in order to do so, I had to stand about 12" from the older guy.

Guy does a full body check of me. How do I know? Because he moved his entire head, and then stared at my chest (full coverage tshirt today people). Oh, and dude, I'm the one w/the sunglasses on, I can still see where your eyes are going.

I curled my lip in my snotty way and stepped away (there may have been a dismissive snort in there too). And there's the saying boys will be boys, and I know people will always laugh at dirty old men. But you know what? It's still gross and disrespectful.

**side note: pressing the button over and over does not make the light change any faster you ass clowns. The only thing it does is annoy the fck out of me and makes you look like a douche.

The Next Julia Child? (is not me)

When I lived on my own, I started cooking for myself and found that I really enjoyed it. Over the years I've learned a few techniques, mastered a few recipes and have even gotten decent at timing everything to come out together. And I really like trying new recipes too, so the cookbook section of the book store is my 2nd favorite section (fiction's first).

But I am also a very messy cook. Very very messy. It doesn't matter ("one pot meal" my ass) I inevitably will use/dirty almost, if not every pan, knife, stirring utensil and get some sort of splatter somewhere(s). (I'm also a noisy cook, but I think that's just because I'm a noisy person in general)
Case in point: When I made dinner on Mother's Day, for the whole meal (Chinese BBQ salmon w/bacon) I dirtied: 2 frying pans, 2 mixing bowls, the broiler pan, a small sauce pan, a cookie sheet, the butcher and bread knives, both cutting boards, not to mention 2 wooden spoons, the kitchen tongs, 2 spatulas (one for raw meat, another for veggies) and a handful of measuring cups and spoons.

And that was just the cooking, that doesn't include the dinner plates and serving dishes either. However, dinner was tasty (the fish was a little over done though), on the table before 8, and came together quite seamlessly. And I got to try something out of the cook book I got my mom for mother's day (really, it was for me) Seduced by Bacon. And who doesn't love bacon? No one, that's who. Except vegetarians and the kosher Jews. But besides them, no one.

Still not done

Dammit to hell, I am still not finished going to the dentist! I was so convinced this was it today, I was getting the crown and then I was done until my next cleaning. And I did get a crown today, just a temporary one. The permanent one goes in three weeks from now.

I'm tired of the Novocain, the whirring/grinding/god knows what else noises, the smell of burning (and wtf? why is that smell coming from my mouth?) my jaw being sore, and the bills I'm going to be paying for-ev-er on. And today we added an acrylic tasting to mix things up a little, because you know, all the other things are just getting too routine. I'm just tired of it all. I don't think my dentist is though, she's making a killing off me (and the rest of my family too, I bet she LOVES us). In all fairness, I do like her and I'm very appreciative that she always passes the scary tools behind my head or under my chin where they are out of my vision line.

I've seriously lost count of how many times I've been to the dentist in the past month. I'm on 5 or 6. (I can't remember if she did one or two fillings) But whatever the number, oh my god can we just be done already?

Cute

That's what I am, cute (according to dictionary.com, cute is: attractive, esp. in a dainty way; pleasingly pretty). Cute is a personality as well as a look. But you know what I do not consider myself? Sexy, which is also a personality as well as a look. It's a freaking attitude.

And library guy (this is his code name now on, (better than calling him new guy)), finds my body incredibly sexy. Dare I say he finds me sexy. And frankly, I'm a little unnerved by that and I'm not exactly sure how to handle it. Which is so stupid of me! Because isn't that what you want someone to think of you? But you don't want "cute" in bed, you want sexy. You want the temptress and the sex kitten. And it's not that I don't want to be those things, I just think they're things I'm not quite. And even though he tells me the all right things, emphatically at times, I still get slightly anxious.

Because what if he's disappointed? Or worse, what if he already is? I know I need to put on my big girl pants and let things work out the way they should. But sexy isn't something that just happens, it develops. This isn't something you can't really fake either. And could you even do so when you feel so striped in the first place?

Women are bitches

There was a conversation going on around me between 3 women about their weight. The topic of ideal weight came up, but how it's not truly realistic because idea weight doesn't account for frame shape. I was keeping my mouth shut all the same. And then they segue-wayed into their problem areas. One woman started talking about some of the exercises her trainer had her do for her triceps, and that they were a somewhat weird position. I piped in here with a: I do a couple of these (and then demonstrated) to tone mine up a little bit.

Before I finished the word tone, she cut me off and said I wasn't allowed to be a part of this conversation (being the skinny person that I am was heavily implied). It was said with a joking tone, but I think we all know it wasn't. And what's worse, is that even before I opened my mouth, I knew I should have clamped it shut. I blushed and looked down, embarrassed for being thin (and curvy in the right areas too). But then I started to silently seethe. Because here's what I wish I had snapped back at her:

I look this way because I have earned every pound I've lost. Physically and mentally I earned it. You want to train for a half marathon, then go for it. You want to break your engagement and stop eating, then go ahead. When you are so depressed you consider ending your life, (December was a bad month for me) and then decide that living, and doing it healthily is a better option, go for it.

I get to be skinny because I fcking earned it.

Mom Move

In honor of Mothers Day:
I will totally be able to do this mom thing. Please, it's not like it's hard or whatever. And clearly I am qualified to give parenting advice because I have no children of my own. Clearly. Right. I put almost everything in my planner, can you imagine the melt down I'm going to have when my kid doesn't puke on schedule? (it will be hilarious I'm sure). But once, I totally pulled a "mom move."

Bailey was still a puppy, (not even 6 months at the time), and we were at my ex's parents house. It was thanksgiving, so my almost-sister-in law-and her family were there too. We brought our "baby," and his sister brought hers too, only her baby was a real baby, a toddler at the time. The puppy, being a puppy, spazed at any given moment. And the toddler, being a toddler, toddled and poked things.

I had crouched down to hug/play with the toddler, but Bailey took that as a sign to tackle! and starts running full speed toward me. The baby is in between the puppy and me (like monkey in the middle, w/out any of that annoying tossing) and neither of them have any idea what's going on. The pup has no idea she's careening out of control and is about to bull charge the toddler, and the toddler has no idea she needs to get out of the way (plus, she lacked the diving skills). This was going to end in multiple fall down go booms. In one fell swoop, I scooped the toddler up onto one of my hips and out of the way, and Heisman-ed the charging puppy with the other arm. All from a Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon stance.

It took a nano second for it to register, but I thought, "whoa, that was a mom move." The toddler thought we were rough housing and squealing with delight, and the puppy is flopping around on the floor like normal, because well, that's just what she does. Fall down go booms averted. And for 10 seconds, I had the mom thing down. Clearly, this qualifies me.

But to my mom, you rocked it. And to all my friends who are mommies, you're rocking it too. Happy Mother's Day!

Mean, Party of 1

Last weekend when I was working there was baby banging it's fat little paws on a metal book shelf. So you can imagine the amount of noise that is coming from the area (lots). When I got a look at the annoying thing, I saw that it was probably around 10-11 months, so telling it to stop wasn't going to do any good. It's mom was looking a little haggard, but she wasn't doing anything to stop it. But this baby was not cute enough to make up for it's annoying factor.

I leaned in really close to my coworker and murmured, that is not a cute baby over there.
She smirked and said: "It's amazing how judgy you are."
Is it wrong that I was oddly flattered? and then said, "yes. Yes, I really am"
And then I tacked on: "but I am not wrong about that" (inclined my head towards not-cute-baby).
And her snarky response: oh, no, "I'm not disagreeing with you at all"

We're going to hell.

Shhh...

As some of you know, I adore Victoria's Secret. I am there the first day of the sale (seriously, I've worked it around my class/work schedule), and I'll spend an average $100 every single time I go, and I'll go several times in a sale season too. I even went when I was between boyfriends, because I enjoy getting pretty/lacy things for myself. But a few months after the engagement, I stopped wearing sexy underpinnings because it seemed that every time I tried to surprise my ex, he got home really late and I was already asleep, or he would bring a really drunk friend home and that person would crash on the couch (which didn't put me in the pounciest of moods). I got so fed up with it, I told him I wasn't going to wear anything of the sort for him (until the honeymoon), and packed away the contents of that drawer. Foolish boy thought I was kidding.

One evening we were home together (how those stars aligned I have no idea) and the commercial for the semi-annual sale comes on the tv. He nudges my hip somewhat excitedly and ask "hey, you going?" And it sounds like a horn dog thing to say, but he knew that I enjoyed going to the sale for myself and that would cheer me up. But I just snorted and said, "no, I'm not wearing that stuff anymore, you never noticed it. ::sigh:: And I don't have the money to go either." My bluntness dumbstruck him, but he didn't mention it again. When my birthday came around a month later though, his mom and sister gave me a gift card to Victoria's Secret. And I found that... well, honestly, kind of creepy. Because I know they asked him what store should they get me a gift card too, so I know he told them how bummed I was about not going to the sale (I hope he left out the I haven't touched her in weeks and it's making her feel rejected part). So it was sweet that he knew where I wanted to shop, but still, underwear from your in-laws... And that they went ahead and got the gift card from there too... Why he didn't say books like he did the last birthday I don't know.

So I have this gift card burning a hole in my wallet, but I haven't been able to bring myself to go into that store in a long time. And this was a store that the sales girls recognized me and convinced me to get the credit card because I was in there "like, all the time." But when I stopped in there around Valentines' Day, I literally ran out less than 2 minutes later because I was super nauseous and on the verge of tears. "How far you have fallen" I thought as I choked back a sob.

But now, I think I can handle it again (having someone tell you you're beautiful helps). So as my last little bit of spite, I'm going to use that gift card and then some this sale time. I'm back Vicki! Did you miss me?

Funny (but slightly inappropriate) story

One of the questions on my test last night was: what is the most common bacterial std in the US? I knew it was between syphilis or chlamydia, and I was 74% sure it was chlamydia. So that's the answer I chose (it was all multiple choice).

About half an hour later my mom and I are waiting for our take out (she picked me up from campus) and I'm going over the test with her. I'm musing about that question and I decide to look up the answer since I have my book with me. I flip to the right chapter (and I would like to point out that the std's were listed in the male anatomy chapter - because boys are dirty), and I was right.

Delighted by my knowledge of stds and their prevalence I say out loud "woo hoo! It is chlamydia!"

And my mom jumps on the cheering bandwagon and says "oh good! Chlamydia for everyone!"

And now we can't stop giggling. Gee I wonder why?

Princess

My name means princess, which I delight in telling anyone who will listen. But as much as I love/adhere the meaning, you won't find the word princess on anywhere of my stuff. Because really, all that sh*t is tacky.

And besides, a true princess does not need to advertise that she is one. Her subjects know of her status and act accordingly; which is to indulge her every whim lest she be off with your head.

And I? Do not need to advertise.

Cinco de Mayo

Today is a few things:
1) My friends' wedding anniversary, congratulations on 2 years you two (now 3)!
2) New Sookie Stackhouse book release!
3) The only day/night bars run out of Corona.

While some may be out for a night (or day) of debauchery, I won't be. I have a final tomorrow so my night is devoted to studying. And also, I'm too old for a college bar. Here's a refresher for you.
Side note: why do I always seem to catch the stupid on medical terminology test days?

I did the drinking Corona's/stumbling/dizzy/fall down go boom thing one year (actually, the falling part was a ploy to get a certain boy to hold me. Really, the bar itself was doing a pretty good job of propping me up (as long as it stayed put that is)). I was a college student, that's what you do. But since I'm pretending to be a grown up now, I would rather celebrate the bastardized Mexican holiday (it's not really Mexico's Independence Day people) in a more mature, subdued manner.

As so: getting blindly drunk on margaritas pool side, while a cabana boy brings me a different margarita as soon as I finish one (start with a traditional one (rocks, no salt), followed by a frozen mango margarita (amazing), then a frozen banana one (yummy), raspberry (happiness in a glass)...) and fetches me guacamole when I start getting snacky.

Dentist: round 864

I am so tired of going to the dentist. So so tired. And I think she's tired of seeing me too, because this filling was put in fast. Seriously, less than an hour, I was numbed, filled, paid and out of there.
Of course now I can't feel half my mouth and if I smile I look like I had a stroke. Attractive! Hope I get some feeling back before I go into work and that it doesn't hurt to kiss new guy goodnight.
But I'm still not done! I need a crown for the tooth that had a root canal. I'm getting that next week, bright and early in the morning and then I think I'm done for a while. Good thing, I'm so tired of Novocaine and not being able to feel my lips.

Now excuse me, I'm going to wipe the drool off my chin and attempt to eat. Right, that's going to be f*cking ha-lar-ious.

Shoes

I don't miss much of anything from Cincinnati, but I did miss some of the shopping available. The shopping selections/mall here is actually pretty good, almost on par in my opinion, but we didn't have a DSW kind of place (we did get an Off Broadway Shoes a few months ago though). So when I saw that a DSW was opening here in Lexington, I gasped and said out loud, "it's like my shoe prayers have been answered!"

I went yesterday and I ended up getting an inexpensive pair of running shoes to wear as every day shoes. I plan on walking in these things a lot, (mostly campus and work) and my other tennis shoes were getting pretty beat up, or had been designated my dog park shoes (for good reason). I was on a bit of a time crunch or else I would have tried on at least 14 pairs of heels that I didn't need but clearly wanted me to try them on. And that was hard to do, because at least 4 of those 14 pairs were screaming, "Sarah, Sarah, look at me! Look at me! I'm so pretty/sexy/cute!" (I hate it when shoes talk to me, it's so hard to resist) And don't get me started on the purses, if they had had the one I liked in pink it would have been so over (I settled for a new bright blue wallet though)

Seriously, what is it about shoes? I get bored running after 2 hours (though that's motivation to shave some time off the next one isn't it?), and I found sitting in bio class for half an hour (of the hour and a half it is) excruciatingly long. But turn me loose in a DSW, (or Victoria's Secret) and I will spend 2 hours traipsing up and down the aisles, deliriously happy, trying 14 different pairs of shoes and then wonder where my afternoon went.

I am such a girl.

Happy Derby Day!

It's the first Saturday in May! You know what that means?! It's the Kentucky Derby! SQUEEEE!

Ok, so this may or may not be a big deal to some people, but to this Kentuckian, it is. Today is a sacred day here. I didn't truly appreciate the Derby for what it is until I went to college across the river. I was a little bummed because I couldn't make the traditional party my family always goes to and no one seemed to grasp why I was bummed about missing a horse race. Granted, someone did ask me what a derby party was and I said: "a grown up kegger." But that's beside the point.

The Belmont and Preakness are highly publicized races too, but it's the Kentucky Derby that starts it all. And lets face it, if the derby winner doesn't win/race in the Belmont, no one cares since the Triple Crown won't happen (ps, that hasn't happened since Affirmed in 1978).

I love horse racing. Love it, love it, love it. (little tip: never bet on the horse I choose, 9 times out of 10, the horse I choose comes in last or is scratched before the race even begins). I'm amazed at how such a big beautiful animal is so amazingly graceful, fluid and powerful at the same time. This is their showcase. There's just nothing that compares to the Kentucky Derby in my opinion. To me (and many others), this is the most exciting 2 minutes in sports. I've never been to it though, but one day soon I will. I'll be wearing a huge hat and drink mint juleps (I love bourbon now, shut up), and enjoy it for it's splendor.

So here's to!