reduce, reuse, recycle

Every since I was a little girl, my father has always taught me not to be wasteful. He was always telling me, "Don't leave that food on your plate. If we're paying for it, you're going to fnish it all" or "Heck no, don't throw that away! We can save that [insert various object] for later!" or "Wrap that chicken finger up in a napkin and stick it in your purse! I'm not too proud!"

A simple trip to the local fast food joint was an opportunity to stockup one's car or truck for simple emergencies. As we would sit to dine on a feast of hamburgers and french fries, he would grab a huge stack of napkins.

"But Dad," I would say, "we won't possibly need all those."

"Summer Michael," he would reply, "I''m gonna put these in the truck later. They'll come in handy one day."

As so it went with napkins, ketchup, assorted jams and jellies in little packets, salt, pepper, you name it. I was conditioned to either leave the surplus items on the edge of the table by my mother (that's another blog entirely, see "slow down so I can ketchup") or take them with me, as directed by my father.

Just last week, I was eating lunch with a friend. We had both taken a rather large stack of napkins. With my father's words echoing in my head, I decided to bring the leftover napkins along for the ride as we ventured back out to the car. I carelessly tossed them in the backseat, and I briefed my passenger on my father's pearls of wisdom. We placed our to-go cups filled with our beverages of choice in the driver's and passenger side cupholders, respectively, and headed off to our next destination.

Several days later, napkins forgotten but waiting wordlessly in the wings (aka, the backseat of my car), I was on my way to work when I noticed the other to-go still in the cup holder of my car.

As I went to pick it up, I was unpleasantly surprised by a soggy and disintegrated cup bottom. I muttered several words of disgust and emptied what was left of the drink into the parking lot, tossing the tattered remains into the back floorboard. My cupholders were now filled with a murky brown liquid.

Upon doing tossing the cup remains, I saw a flash of white peeking out at me. The napkins! Silently thanking my father for instilling within me his frugal and thrifty principles, I proceeded to soak up said liquid with the napkins. A few minutes later, problem solved!

So many things I have gleaned from my parents, and this has truly proved to be one of the most fruitful lessons.

everything comes full circle

I've lost two friends this year, both very tragic and unexpected.

I wrote a blog recently about one of my friends, Ben. His girlfriend/fiancee is at home now, resting comfortably and rehabilitating herself daily to get back on her feet. She knows Ben is gone, and she has her good days and bad days, friends say. I can't even begin to imagine what that must be like.

Back in September, my best friend from high school lost her husband. It was totally unexpected, a blood clot. He'd had surgery, and he was having a little trouble, but he was at home. Before we knew it, he was gone.

I was the maid of honor in their wedding, and I practically lived with her all through school and vice versa. It was one of the hardest things, to try and comfort someone who has lost the man they'd hoped to spend the rest of their life with. They would have been married three years in October. He would've turned 26 in September.

She gave birth to their beautiful son (I'm not biased or anything) on Thursday, Dec. 14.

When her husband first passed, I thought it would be harder to raise the baby with him gone. Now I know that the baby will make her stronger, and that is what has helped her all this time.

Working at Red Lobster, we have a lot of usuals that come in. Many of these are older couples. I've gotten very close to many of them, and it is so very hard when they don't come in any more. It's even harder when one of them spouses returns without their partner.

I remember one man in particular who would always come in with his wife, occasionally joined by their daughter and granddaughter. His wife was loud and colorful; everyone knew who they were.

We soon found out that she had cancer. The first time he came in alone, it was heartbreaking.

But in recent months, I've noticed him coming in with another "lady friend," if you will. It's definitely not the same, but I see him look at her with such adoration and love. My only hope is to find that once in my life.

I wonder if my other friends who have lost that special person will ever be able to carry on to find that again.

I didn't mean for this to be a sad, mourning blog, but I have just been thinking about how everything comes around full circle. People die, every day, but in that same respect, every day, babies are born and new relationships are started.

I think that sometimes life is a hard road, one full of bumps and potholes that seem to be neverending. But one thing is for sure - it's not a dead end.

do you like me? blog yes or no

The internet has really revolutionized the way things happen today, and it has made such a huge impact on social netoworking everywhere.

I was in Wal-Mart just the other day, and I saw the ole Tiger Beat and Teen Bop magazines that all the girls used to have when I was in elementary school. They used to be covered with teen sensations and say things like, "Super Dreamy Pics of Hanson Inside This Issue! Free Poster!"

This issue said pretty much the same, only now there was a huge headline proclaiming, "Sweet New MySpace Codes Inside! Jazz Up Your Page!"

I heard MySpace and Facebook mentioned on two primetime television shows.

However, the best thing we have all gotten out of this has to be blogging. I love blogs. I think they are fantastic. Last night, while I was at work, I heard something I thought was funny. These kids (I use the term loosely, they were old enough to drive, probably 17 or so) were all dressed up for some dance or something, wearing sparkly dresses and their hair was all did up, the whole nine.

One girl was talking about a boy to her friend. Here's a brief transcript about what transpired between the pair:

Girl#1: I don't know. Like, do you think he like, likes me, like or whatever?

Girl#2: Oh, my gah, he soooooo does. He was like, totally checking you out or whatever. Chad is like, his like, MySpace friend, and he said he was looking at your profile yesterday.

Girl#1: Shut up! Shut UP! No way! Like, for real?

Girl#2: Straight up. And he like, wrote a blog about you. He totally likes you.

Girl#1: (ecstatic, obviously) AH! Oh my gah, he is SO cute! I like him, like for real. Ah! He is so so cute! I'm gonna put him on my top 8.

Girl#2: Seriously? Wow, that's like, huge. Who are you going to bump off?

Girl#1: Girl, are you kidding? Ashley was totally scamming on him. She left him, like, six comments in a row on his page. Who does she think she is?

Girl#2: Bitch.

And that was about it. I may have embellished a little. But I just thought it was funny how it used to be, writing each other little notes and such across the classroom and asking your friends to go talk to the other person and stuff. When I heard these girls and the word (or words, if you want to get technical) "MySpace," I just knew I had to listen in.

sign, sign, everywhere a sign

Okay, so, I love signs. LOVE them. I love them esp when they have something wrong with them or when they just really, really crack me up. And I have seen many a sign, my friend. Not to mention I know how convenient it is to have a camera phone. And to have friends that have camera phones. And to have friends who appreciate your affinity for signs and that....you get the idea.

I thought I would share some of my favorites with all of you.

First off, these are just the ones that are random acts of bad grammar or just plain dumb.


















Like this one.
When I first saw it, all I could think of was, "what the hell is a soure of pride? Did they mean 'sore' of pride? And isn't that an oxymoron of sorts?" I would not have been very proud of myself had I been the person to have made this sign.





















Sweet! Steak at Ryan's! Save me a seat. But wait...is that a new day of the week? I mean, I know that Wednesday is a hard day of the week to spell, esp when compared to its counterparts - Monday, Friday, Sunday and the like. But if you are putting yourself out there, on the side of Rainbow Drive/Albert Rains/Hwy 411 or whatever the fuck it's called, don't you think you might take the extra time to consult a dictionary?




This just makes me mad. Please don't make a gigantimous sign this big with such an error. It's just...bad. I don't know what's worse - the fact that the sign upsets me so, or the fact that I have a million pictures of myself right in front of it because I frequent the place of business so much. Every dollar I spend there is basically me saying it's okay to have shitty grammar.




Hell yeah, I want the person who either can't spell the word "emergency" (or the person who felt the need to mass-produce this sign and stick it up everywhere) to lead me to safety. Please, tell me where to go.




I only hope there was a band playing or some sort of music wherever that arrow was pointing.










These next ones are either just cute or really cracked me up.























I saw this sign in a store window on Martha's Vineyard. It made me giggle. Twice.





My best friend and I drove all the way to New Orleans one day, just for the hell of it. And for the prailines. We hit up a museum for some culture, and I think I almost peed myself when I saw this. I'm so immature.




I don't even remember where I found this, but oh, my God, I will wear my safety goggles in the lab from now on. I cross my heart.














Since when is the flavor raspberry "creamy"? And this didn't look very creamy to me. At all. I can only speculate as to what this Al person does to the drink to make it his creamy blue raspberry. Tasty.




Now for my very favorite. There isn't anything technically wrong with these, but something is definitely wrong here.





Um, that's what she said......but seriously, folks, Kaitie saw this one on her hairdryer at a hotel. I think it's fantastic. If you can't read it (I know it's blurry), it says, "GET TO OFF BEFORE MOUNTING."




Oh, my God, AH! It's the Electricity Monster! Get the fuck away! It looks like some sort of Matrix crap, too, with the way the Electricity Monster is blasting the guy and he just bends over backwards to avoid it. Stay away from that stuff.




Riddikulus! Is that a boggart? I swear, I walked past this cabinet three times, and nothing jumped out at me. I was a little disappointed. And I love how one door is supposed to be opened, but other than the shadowy square on the right, it looks just the same as the other side of the cabinet. Weird.




Ho-o-ly, shit, it's a fire! And it means business. You'd better haul ass outta there, little guy. I know I won't be blocking a fire exit any time soon.




Zippity doo dah, zippity ay! I'm a-walkin' on water, what a wonderful day! I wish this little guy had a top hat and a cane. I suspect he's snapping his fingers and clickin' his heels.




My personal favorite. I can't tell if this sign is meant to be, "Attention: Wet Floor," or "Attention: I'm a Sexy Playboy Centerfold." You'd betta recognize, bitches.




Oh, my God, HELP! I am trapped in a triangle! ARRRRGHHHHHH!!!!!
Either that, or he's dancing. It's the new alternative to square dancing - triangle dancing.

goodbye dear friend - you will be missed

It's ironic that my last post was about love and finding that special someone.

Two friends of mine have been dating for a while. It's weird to me that they are together, as I have known each of them for a long time, but separately. One day, they came into Red Lobster, where I work, and we did the whole, "But wait...hold on...you're dating? And you know....her? Him?" It was perfect - I loved him like a brother, and she was just fantastic. They were so cute together. After we realized we all knew each other, I even went on a blind/double-date with them...but that's another story.

I continued to see them at Red Lobster, which is basically my social networking system. Just a few weeks ago, they came in for lunch. I stopped for the usual hug, and she showed me something new - a promise ring. It was absolutely beautiful, and she was so proud, so radiant. My friend then told me it was his grandmother's ring, and looking at the two of them, right then, I could see how much in love they were. I hugged them both again, congratulated them, and went back to work.

This past weekend was like any other weekend - I came in late Friday, overslept Saturday, etc. But it was different.

My roommate woke me up with some very unsettling news. My two friends were in a really bad car accident. She was in critical condition. He didn't make it.

He was going to propose at Christmas.

I didn't believe it at first. I still kinda don't. It wasn't until later when I was relaying the information to my mom that it sank in.

Ben, my friend, was only 23 years old. He had two brothers and amazing parents, both of whom I love very much. We were the Etowah Youth Orchestra for years, and we traveled with the EYO to Myrtle Beach, New Orleans, and even to New York to play at Carnegie Hall. He was my date for my junior prom, and that same year, his brother went with one of my best friends. He was such a sweet and selfless person, and he was always there to do anything for anyone. I remember him teasing me and picking on me like a brother would. The first thing he did every time I saw him was give me a great big hug, those kind of hugs where you know the other person really means it.

Cindy, his girlfriend, is still in serious condition, but she is going to pull through. I can only imagine what she has left to go through when she wakes up. She is such a sweetie, and I was so pleased that she found someone that made her happy. I can't even begin to put myself in her position. I have no clue what lies ahead for her. That is pain so unbearable that I would never wish on anyone.

This really made me think about life and death. We are never promised tomorrow. And I've always heard people say it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Is that true? When you think you have found the person you are going to marry, you really believe that is the person you were meant to be with all along. That is the only person for you.

What do you do when you wake up one day and that person is gone?

Ben had such a short time here. I think back on my life and wonder if the time comes for me to leave this place, will I be ready? How will people reflect back on my life?

Goodbye, my dear friend. We've had some good times. You had such a big heart, and you gave yourself whole-heartedly to everyone and everything. I will miss you so much. That's the hardest thing for me, knowing that I'm never going to see you again. I'll never forget you. I don't think any of us will.

another one bites the dust

One of my very best friends got married last week. It was a beautiful wedding, and she looked absolutely gorgeous. We have been friends since we were very young, about two or three years old. I didn't expect to get so emotional, but as I stood there on the altar, watching her walk down the aisle...I almost lost it.

I regained control of myself and stayed composed for the rest of the ceremony. After the vows were spoken, rings and kisses were exchanged and we'd all walked back down the aisle, it was time for the reception. (Oh, by the way, the wedding was outside at her parents' house, and the reception was in a huge tent. And yes, it was FREEZING outside.) The cake was good, the food was good, the DJ playing the music was good. Then it was time for the father-daughter dance. Once again, it was sort of bittersweet to see the person that I have come to know as a sister dance out the last few steps of her childhood.

I stood over to the side, next to my other childhood friend, also a member of the wedding party. We watched as the final notes of the song faded away and she began her first dance with her new husband. I was doing okay, and then she smiled at us and motioned to my friend and her new boyfriend to come dance. As she walked over the makeshift dancefloor, I was left standing by myself. It was so poetic, so painfully poetic.

I have never felt so alone in my entire life.

When you attend a wedding, and this is multiplied times two if you are actually in the wedding, people will continue to ask you, "So, any prospects? Are you, ya know, seeing anyone?" All I can ever say is, "No." The freakin photographer at this wedding asked was I dating someone after I was left standing solo during the slow dancing. No, no, NO. As I was repeatedly and painstakingly reminded, no, I am not currently dating anyone.

And people keep saying, "Oh, don't worry. It's okay. No big deal. You'll find someone." But I'm not worried. I know it's no big deal. And as I have said time and again, what about someone finding me? I know I don't want to get married for a long time, if at all. I have my own doubt about the whole institution of marriage and whether or not it's right for me. But I can't help but feel a little twinge (okay, a lotta twinge) of jealousy. I know that the decisions my friends have made are not the same ones that I have made for myself. But sometimes it still hurts.

I found myself growing somewhat irrationally upset at the wedding. Not angry, just upset. I had to excuse myself as I felt my face get hot and my eyes sting with tears. I quickly exited the reception tent and made my way inside. Why did I get so upset? Why was I bothered so? I don't know if I am facing the reality that we are all growing up, or if I was mourning my own self, or if I just miss my old friend. Whatever it was, it hit me and it hit me hard.

This also makes me think back to a conversation I had not just a few days ago with a good (make that fantastic) friend of mine. We were just sitting there, talking, when she asked me did I think that there was one person for everyone.

This is an interesting concept to me.

I used to think so. I used to think that there was one person out there for me, so beautifully and wonderfully made that I could not wait to find him. Then as time went by, my feelings changed.

Another close friend of mine once said that she thought there isn't just one person for everyone, but you find someone that you really love and you make it work. I hope there's not one person for everyone. Do you know how many people there are in this world? It seems as though it might be damn near impossible to find that special someone.

Like I said before, I don't know if I want to get married. But I do want to find that one person that I feel like I could spend the rest of my life with, that I just can't get enough of. As Carrie said in Sex and the City, "I am looking for love, can't live without it love."

Just not right now.

I am content to hang out and have fun with my friends, and I have some really great ones. I don't need anyone to complete me; I can complete myself, thanks.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I feel that nagging, aching pain, just gnawing at my heart and hollowing out my chest.

It hurts.

squish, squish SQUEAK!

Ah, rainy days. I love rainy days. I love nothing more than to either go to bed with the rain tap, tapping on my windows or to wake up to a steady drizzle. (Only trouble is that I want to stay in bed all day!) I even have a fantastic noise machine with a rainstorm setting that lulls me to sleep.

Then there are the downsides to rain. I hate having to travel from car to building and feel all chilly and rained on and such. Traffic moves slower, and accidents are a bigger threat on slick roads. Plans get rained out, and there's always that one person who gets taken by surprise by the rain and rushes out to their car because they left their windows down. (i have done this on several occasions; I just thank God I don't have a car with a sunroof anymore...don't even GET me started!) There is the 6 inch or so section of your jeans that feels the need to soak up as much excess water as possible.

I remember being a little kid and getting off the school bus, excited to stomp in the puddles on my way up the driveway. Only problem was that L.A. Gears, though stylishly and fashionably made, had those little holes so that my eight-year-old feet could breathe. While this was helpful on hot summer days when I needed a little localized air circulation, it wasn't so conducive to puddle-jumping. The water quickly and gleefully found its way into those little holes and straight to my sock-clad feet.

Out of all these, though, there is one thing I hate the most.

I'm jogging into the school building, trying my best to dodge puddles, stay dry and hold on to all my personal belongings. As I reach the door, I do my best to wipe my feet on the mat, provided there is one. I walk through the double-doors and down the hall to my class. And then there it is.

SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK.

Squeaky Shoes McGee. That's who I am. It's even worse when you come in late, or if you are walking down a hall in which several classroom doors are open.

SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK.

After squeaking down the hall, I squeak into my classroom, over to my chair.

I've tried picking up my feet, which only makes me look like a show pony, high-stepping down the hall. I've also tried angling my feet differently as they hit the ground, but then the resulting sound is more like a SQUELCH.

SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK.

So what will I do? Short of wearing different shoes and carpeting the school hallways wall-to-wall....I guess I'll just live with it.

Until it becomes SQUEAK, SQUEAK, CRASH! Arms and legs flailing, books and things flying, cheeks reddening and pride diminishing, all ending with me in a weeping heap in the middle of the floor.

In case I haven't mentioned it before, someone falling on their ass is always funny. Sad, but hilariously true.