Hello once again,
As most of you know, the majority of my posts have been about embarrassing myself. When I say embarrassing, what the event is to me and what it is to someone on the outside looking in are two totally different things. I grew up with my mother as my mom, meaning I do not get embarrassed easily. She made me immune to all that when I was younger. Nothing really gets to me to where I am ashamed of myself. I say embarrassed because this is an emotion understood by others.
In this blog post, however, I would like to talk about other people doing stupid things that I have witnessed over the past few years.
If anyone knows me, they know that I really love baseball. I may not understand all the ins and outs of it or what each of the numbers on the scoreboard mean, but I really love to watch baseball games. My friend Alexis Washington shares my love of the great American pastime so we frequently watch games together. Typically, this involves me driving out to Gainesville to watch the Gators play. I know, I know, I sound like a traitor. I go to FSU but I still watch the Gators? Yes, yes I do. I had a boyfriend my senior year who loved to go to the Gator games and frequently took me with him. In fact, our first "real" date was a Gator baseball game. So, naturally, I came to enjoy watching these fine men play the all American sport. When I say fine, I mean it literally.
Each year, I go to at least a few games with Alexis. We were at one about two years ago when what I am about to tell you about happened. As we sat on the bleachers, watching Austin Maddox take his place inside the batter's box, we noticed a bit of a commotion. Down the stairs, there was a rather large woman with wild, unruly hair. She looked pretty normal, aside from the hair. In a matter of seconds, I was proved horribly wrong. This woman proceeded to pull her pants up and run up and down the stairs at full speed screaming, "Show me your genitals, your genitals," in almost cheerleader fashion while pumping her fists in the air. She did this a few times. Alexis and I just looked at each other and died laughing. Everyone in the crowd looked shocked. Who does that?!
This one goes out to Cassie. We were at my Nanny's house celebrating Cassie's birthday. She had just started dating this boy named Ryan literally two weeks before, so they were still in the awkward stage where they were both trying to be awesome. Not that she isn't already awesome :). Anyways, I bought her exactly what she wanted, a child movie called Monster House. Weirdo. We sat out on my "back porch" and watched it with our boyfriends. When the night ended, I walked both of them out of the house so I could lock my door. Funny how our nights went from ending at 9 pm to not ending at all. We have a pool that is dangerously close to our door. Cassie was walking around the edge of the pool when she took the corner just a little too sharp and walked right into the pool! Somehow, half of her body went into the freezing water while the other half stayed up on the concrete. She was straddling the ledge with one leg still dry and the remainder of her body completely soaked. She looked kind of like Spider-Man post up on a building. Poor thing! Ryan helped her up but I could tell she was embarrassed and probably hurting. Mind you, her birthday is in November so the water was like ice. She had to ride home in Ryan's car drenched. I guess that is one way to break through the awkward phase of a relationship.
Just this week, Destiny texted me to tell me that she had really done it. She was leaving her place of employment to go home for the evening. While on the way out, she spotted an attractive fella in an elevator. She tried to stop the elevator in an attempt to stare at him. She put her arm in the way of the door, but it was too late. The sensor did not catch her and the elevator door shut on her arm! At that point the doors opened and she proceeded to squeeze her way into the cramped elevator. She said she was dying of embarrassment and that her arm really hurt. Oh, the things we women will do to stand next to a handsome fella.
If you can't tell already, I am posting this way way later on than when I started writing it, but I found it today and thought I should proceed in posting it.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
That's Why we Stopped Being Good Girls
Hello everyone on my least favorite day of the week,
Okay so this isn't really a long story post like I would normally post, but I came across this video today and I am just so in love with it.
First before I even get to the part where I show this video, I would like to make it known, that I love love love men! They are seriously the good Lord's gift to women everywhere. Even some of my lesbian friends can appreciate a good man from time to time, that is how awesome men are.
No matter how sexy, chiseled, sensitive, funny, intelligent, wonderful, out and out HAWT men are, I do have an issue with the men in our world. It is as though they always expect us gals to be dressed to the nines, hair perfect, make-up on like we just left Sephora, as perfect a 10 could be while they don't understand how them wearing something that says "I just left the gym... two days ago" would bother us. What happened to that Tim Mcgraw song where he was getting all dressed up to pick her up and openin' up windows, sweeping floors, and cleaning his truck just to pick her up to watch tv? When has the dress code and all around how we look/behave in front of our partners become a double standard? If we have to have faces like a super model and bodies built just like a coke bottle and have to give them what they want their way like we are a Burger King, why don't they?
My friend Destiny sent me a picture a long time ago of something on Twitter that I found very very amusing. It says:
"Why the hell do guys expect so much from us like they want us to have a flat stomach, big ass, big boobs, pretty face, and a perfect personality while some of these guys look like fucking apes bye."
I seriously could not have put it better myself. Guys have ridiculous expectations of women. They want us to be gorgeous all the time but natural. Their version of natural is what takes me 30 minutes to get into. Like come on man, my lips are not naturally tempting red and my hair does not smell like salon after sleeping for 9 hours. Don't even get me started on the intimate stuff. They want you to be stripped down, spread eagle on the bed before they even walk through the door. Come on y'all, haven't you heard the 3 date (at least) rule?! I don't think they appreciate the effort. Or the whole "Well, I took you on a date so.." SO!? Does a mildly inexpensive dinner at a chain steak house mean you are now entitled to the password to the mysterious speakeasy under our dresses? NO!
So, this video is a parody to Robin Thicke's song "Blurred Lines." Apparently the original Blurred Lines video is raunchy and sexist. I just watched it, and read the lyrics and although it is an enjoyable song in a catchy sort of way it is, well, sexist. It basically says "we men don't need to have any ties to you or owe you anything to get what we want out of you." It also insinuates that that is what women really want anyways but we are "good girls" and pretend otherwise. So?! Of course we all want to have an Anastasia Steel and Christian Grey thing, maybe even right from the moment you walk through the door. But how would a guy see a girl who let's him pass go and head straight to her vagina jail like a game of Monopoly? Yep, checkmate darlin', you won't be getting those Valentine's day flowers this year for sure. You are now his hit it and quit it and hit it again when he feels like it because you let him.
Side note- When a guy suggests hanging out with me, it is supposed to mean actually hanging out. Sometimes their version of hanging out and mine are totally different. I don't mean come over and expect me to step out of the outfit I just carefully organized so we can "hang out" your way with your wang out. I can't stand that! Just a little something else I got from this video.
I say kudos to you Auckland law students. Your video gave me quite a good laugh about a double standard my friends and I ponder on often. If we have to jump through hoops to be perfect, why don't they?
Before I end this, I want to say I know that all guys aren't like this. And it is okay for a man to expect his woman to be the sexy siren he started dating most of the time, but we want you to be the fine hunk of man we met that first day too.
Stay classy my friends, it's the new black.
Here's the link!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tC1XtnLRLPM
Okay so this isn't really a long story post like I would normally post, but I came across this video today and I am just so in love with it.
First before I even get to the part where I show this video, I would like to make it known, that I love love love men! They are seriously the good Lord's gift to women everywhere. Even some of my lesbian friends can appreciate a good man from time to time, that is how awesome men are.
No matter how sexy, chiseled, sensitive, funny, intelligent, wonderful, out and out HAWT men are, I do have an issue with the men in our world. It is as though they always expect us gals to be dressed to the nines, hair perfect, make-up on like we just left Sephora, as perfect a 10 could be while they don't understand how them wearing something that says "I just left the gym... two days ago" would bother us. What happened to that Tim Mcgraw song where he was getting all dressed up to pick her up and openin' up windows, sweeping floors, and cleaning his truck just to pick her up to watch tv? When has the dress code and all around how we look/behave in front of our partners become a double standard? If we have to have faces like a super model and bodies built just like a coke bottle and have to give them what they want their way like we are a Burger King, why don't they?
My friend Destiny sent me a picture a long time ago of something on Twitter that I found very very amusing. It says:
"Why the hell do guys expect so much from us like they want us to have a flat stomach, big ass, big boobs, pretty face, and a perfect personality while some of these guys look like fucking apes bye."
I seriously could not have put it better myself. Guys have ridiculous expectations of women. They want us to be gorgeous all the time but natural. Their version of natural is what takes me 30 minutes to get into. Like come on man, my lips are not naturally tempting red and my hair does not smell like salon after sleeping for 9 hours. Don't even get me started on the intimate stuff. They want you to be stripped down, spread eagle on the bed before they even walk through the door. Come on y'all, haven't you heard the 3 date (at least) rule?! I don't think they appreciate the effort. Or the whole "Well, I took you on a date so.." SO!? Does a mildly inexpensive dinner at a chain steak house mean you are now entitled to the password to the mysterious speakeasy under our dresses? NO!
So, this video is a parody to Robin Thicke's song "Blurred Lines." Apparently the original Blurred Lines video is raunchy and sexist. I just watched it, and read the lyrics and although it is an enjoyable song in a catchy sort of way it is, well, sexist. It basically says "we men don't need to have any ties to you or owe you anything to get what we want out of you." It also insinuates that that is what women really want anyways but we are "good girls" and pretend otherwise. So?! Of course we all want to have an Anastasia Steel and Christian Grey thing, maybe even right from the moment you walk through the door. But how would a guy see a girl who let's him pass go and head straight to her vagina jail like a game of Monopoly? Yep, checkmate darlin', you won't be getting those Valentine's day flowers this year for sure. You are now his hit it and quit it and hit it again when he feels like it because you let him.
Side note- When a guy suggests hanging out with me, it is supposed to mean actually hanging out. Sometimes their version of hanging out and mine are totally different. I don't mean come over and expect me to step out of the outfit I just carefully organized so we can "hang out" your way with your wang out. I can't stand that! Just a little something else I got from this video.
I say kudos to you Auckland law students. Your video gave me quite a good laugh about a double standard my friends and I ponder on often. If we have to jump through hoops to be perfect, why don't they?
Before I end this, I want to say I know that all guys aren't like this. And it is okay for a man to expect his woman to be the sexy siren he started dating most of the time, but we want you to be the fine hunk of man we met that first day too.
Stay classy my friends, it's the new black.
Here's the link!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tC1XtnLRLPM
Sunday, September 1, 2013
The Teller and Upside Down Cards
Hello all,
This dark house that I don't know very well and the fact that everyone has gone to bed has me a bit jumpy. I am a scary movie buff and these back windows kind of remind me of the scariest movie I have ever seen "The Strangers." Seriously, if you haven't seen it, I probably wouldn't watch it at night or maybe not at all if you plan on sleeping the next few weeks. My brother Tyler, aka Mr. Badass nothing-scares-me, wouldn't stay in my mom's living room for months past a certain time because the windows out by the pool are very similar to the ones in the movie that the creepy-make-you-pee-your-pants people with the horrifying masks would stare at the innocent honeymooners through. Yeah, I am now currently moving further away from the big windows that look out on the now eery looking garden that looks so enchanted beneath the sunlight.
Just recently, I saw "The Conjuring" which is by far the best horror flick I have seen since "The Strangers." My body hurt so bad from staying so seized up and tight while watching it because it was that chilling. It is like you didn't get the typical break between scary scenes like other movies. I have never been so cold or had chills for an entire movie like I did for this one. This movie sort of got me thinking about the spirit world. I like to indulge in this curiosity every once in a while about this subject every once in a while. I constantly look up the meanings of strange dreams that I have. It could be because Sarah has tried to convince me to do one of those spirit board things with her, or that the movie just had profound effects on me. But while I was in Key West, I had the perfect opportunity to give into my ever curious mind about the supernatural world and its maybe/maybe not existence.
Every night in Key West at a place called Mallory Square, the locals and tourists celebrate the end of the day with something called the Sunset Festival. I've never seen such a sunset quite as grand and blazing as the one here. The way it reflects its golden rays off the water makes it shine like diamonds of a higher quality than Cartier. It is truly something to behold at least once in your life. If you live in Florida, you really have no excuse to not visit Key West. Is it a tourist trap? Duh! But it is an adventure worth going on down there. That blog post is coming soon, I promise. My feeble memory is hurting lately, and I am having to write down all of my ideas instead of them just coming to me later.
So how do scary movies and superstitions intertwine with my Southernmost Point vacation? At this sunset festival, there are a lot of street performers. Most of them look like they sleep in a box every night, but that is okay, they are still very entertaining and funny. People will do some crazy things for a dollar. Some man climbed up on a twelve foot tall unicycle and juggled flaming bats. I give this lot of misfits props, they are doing something about not having a "job- job" to still earn money for themselves.
Out of all the misfit performers, someone stood out to me. In the middle of the square, there sat a man underneath the shade of a large black umbrella. He stood out because in a sea of tattered t-shirts and old fedoras and bowlers, this man had on a crisp white collared shirt and of all things, a Burberry tie. He looked as though he belonged in a business office rather than on performers' row. He sat at a table draped in a velvety red covering, and atop that red covering sat a crystal ball. This man was a fortune teller and he was looking at me as though he had been waiting for me all day.
Now, I do not actually really believe that there is an order of elite folks who can tell you what is going to happen tomorrow. I don't really know what I believe about stuff like this, but I don't think all of it is a load of bull. Was this man in the Burberry tie a chosen elite who could shed light on my future by pulling back the celestial curtains? Probably not. But there was something compelling in the way his eyes, as if they were beckoning me to sit with him for a while. So I did.
I plopped down in his chair, happy to take refuge from the sun underneath the shadow his umbrella cast on me. He started shuffling a deck of cards and asked me what I wanted to do today. Palmistry? Nah. Crystal ball? Nope. He already seemed to know the answer, as he was handing me the deck of cards instead of continuing down the list of other services he offered. In fact, that was the first thing he touched when I approached the table. Hmm....
I told him I had never had a card reading before and he explained that I simply had to shuffle the deck until I felt content, cut the deck into a few separate piles of any size, and take a card from each of the piles (I think it was directly from the top)pick up the decks from right to left and hand all the cards back to him. I shuffled the deck for what felt like forever. I was secretly hoping to ditch a shitty fortune in the midst of the cards, like if I shuffled them enough, the misfortune would somehow evade my hand. After a few rounds I felt like I had probably shuffled enough and the fates were probably getting tired of me taking more than my time. Cutting the cards into separate piles was another thing. I didn't know if I should do them all of equal piles or if I should do random sizes or line them up from biggest to smallest. There is a lot of pressure on a girl when she is trying to hear what her future may hold! Finally, I was satisfied with my piles and the arrangement of them and laid them out on the table to pick up in the strategic right to left fashion.
My fortune teller began to do some crazy slide of hand movements with the piles of cards, moving them all around in front of my eyes. I couldn't really keep up with it, but soon he was flipping cards with people face up in front of me every which way. Some were facing me, some were backwards, some were sideways. I saw a beautiful woman who was cloaked in white and seemed to be glowing and radiant in her chair with vines growing all around her, I saw a woman wrapped in something that made her look bound like a mummy with the bands around her eyes with many swords stabbed in the ground surrounding her, there was a man working on something with a line of eight stars in circles facing me, a man in a chair with a set of scales looking thing was flipped upside down from my view, there was a handsome man riding a white stallion brandishing a long sword that was also turned upside down, a heart with three swords stabbed into it was upside down, a queenly looking woman called the High Priestess, another looking queenly woman doting a sword of her own while kicked back in a beautiful throne (this was my kind of card I thought), a hand holding a sword that was poked through a crown, and lastly a man in a short dress looking thing with a long staff.
My fortune teller proceeded to explain to me that I had: The Eight of Swords, The High Priestess, The Three of Swords, The Empress, The Eight of Pentacles, The Queen of Swords, The Ace of Swords, Justice, The Knight of Swords, and the Page of Wands.
He said, let's start with the near past. He motioned to the girl who was bound and surrounded by swords. I am totally about to cheat because I can't remember word for word what this guy said about this card. When in doubt, Google it. This is what Google had to say about The Eight of Swords:
This card usually indicates a time of powerlessness and restriction, and more often than not this restriction is self-imposed. You may be holding yourself back because you fear moving into the future, or because you are wary of getting hurt by a new situation, or maybe for no reason at all. In rare instances you will find that another person's action - or inaction - is what keeps you from moving forward, but most of the time the blame falls on you alone. You cannot be held back unless part of you wants to be held back. The trick is finding a way to overcome that, and free yourself from the bonds of fear and doubt.
Basically he was saying that in my not too far past I had felt trapped by something or that I was holding myself back from something for fear of the unknown. Well, he was right. But I am always fearful of the future and afraid to step off the road of the past that is somehow clearer once you have already walked it into the dim visibility of the unknown future. I am thinking it may have had something to do with the fact that after I broke up with my ex, I kind of pulled back from the world of dating and boyfriends. Trapped by myself I suppose. At least I am cool to be trapped with.
The next card was The High Priestess. She is the "Inner Voice" and is a direct link to the unconscious mind. He basically told me I was very intuitive to the world around me, especially people. He said that I can relate to people on a level that is unparalleled to the way others relate to each other. Nailed it!
My heart dropped a little as he hesitated from touching the heart with the three swords stabbed deeply through its chambers. It doesn't take Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson on the scene to figure out this one meant some sort of heart break. He was still on my past so I was thinking he was probably going to talk about me and my ex. But that didn't really make sense to me because that break up didn't really break my heart. I knew it was coming and I was over it by the next day. To my surprise, he said that I had actually felt some heart ache around the "dawn of the new year." Meaning I had experienced pain of the heart around January. I have to say, it wasn't heart ache, just dull disappointment. But nevertheless, he was still right. My heart was sad for a fool who hadn't changed the slightest in more than the insignificant sense of love. There was no love there, not even a like, but I had hoped just for a moment that everything had changed.
We moved into the here and now with The Eight of Pentacles, the little man working on something was next. He told me that I had been working hard on something lately and that if I was to continue to put forth a doubled effort, it was going to make me very successful and happy. Hmm... wonder what that could be? I think I have an idea of what it could be. We shall see I suppose.
My fortune teller wanted to proceed into the very near future with The Empress. He explained to me that this beautiful woman was the face of creation and grace in everything she made. The Empress, he said, sees and takes significant joy in everything that she makes. My mind went immediately to my blog. This is my baby and I have never made something that I enjoy more. He said the love The Empress embodies is both her greatest strength and her most daunting weakness, being as though even though she loves so much, sometimes that love is not reciprocated with the same magnitude.
Then something happened that I hadn't expected. His ears turned a little pink and his cheeks went flush as he told me The Empress represented something else. His eyes flashed from mine to my mother's who was standing behind hanging onto every word probably more so than I was. Mr. Crystal ball said that The Empress represents fertility and the chance of having a baby. "Since The Empress came to us in this position, I would say it is very likely that you will become pregnant in the fall of this year. If you do not wish to become a mother right now, I would recommend extreme caution because she is very willful in this for you this year." WHAT IN THE HELL!? I felt my mouth fall open and I just couldn't even speak. I felt my neck getting hot and I am pretty sure the setting sun had nothing to do with the sweat that began to bead on my skin. WHAT?! The only thing I could do was think, "Absolutely not having sex with anyone. I am so glad I don't have a boyfriend. I cannot take a baby in the Baby Bjorn to Physics in the spring. Might as well wrap my lower half in crime scene tape because there is nobody going between the space where my jeans meet my skin. Nope, no babies. Absolutely freaking not. Kinley is enough baby for me right now, and she is one that I can give back to her Momma when I can't please her with Doggies (aka 101 Dalmatians) and chocolate milk.
I was too stunned to pay too much attention to the Queen of Swords and the Ace of Swords because I was just thinking of how I needed to padlock myself in a tower and guard myself with a dragon to insure a little prince or princess didn't happen to me. Then he got to Justice. Justice, he explained, often dealt with things of legal means. The scales represent the balance between fair and unfair. He cautioned me that the position of this card meant that something very unjust was going to happen to me around coming up March-May. Perfect, that's just what I need is for my life to turn into an episode of Judge Judy.
The handsome faced man on his noble steed was the Knight of Swords. Surely, this was good news. Surely it was saying some beautiful man was going to come riding into my life and whisk me away to live out our fairytale. Surely, something in these cards would show my love life turning around. How very wrong I was. My fashionable fortune teller proceeded to tell me with a heavy sigh that the placement of this card represented a man fleeing from my life quickly. He said not to fear death more so than a love interest leaving and disappearing suddenly. Great.
The last, the Page of Wands was my last hope for some sort of happiness out of being pregnant, defeated legally and being lonely. He said with sweet splendor that the Page of Wands is to represent passion for something and childlike wonder and interest in something, and also total fearlessness in whatever I am currently pursuing or will pursue. He said it could come in the form of something that sparks my interest and that the Page will lend me his creative notion to make whatever it is grand. Once this Page enters, your life will never be the same. He said it could be in the form of a person who is so carefree and wonderful who could come into my life. I thought inwardly that it probably won't be a man since I just saw him galloping away with my broken heart and crushed dreams. This person brings you a childlike happiness that is hard to keep contained. Perhaps it is my sweet little niece who brings me so much joy and happiness just to be around her who is the Page of Wands in my life. Or maybe it is a man, who is creative and ambitious and fun and looks at the world in awe. Just the thing I am looking for in a man.
How interesting it was listen to a man in a nice tie tell me what my future is to hold and the options that each card brings. Even in my moment of despair as I thought, "Cool, I will be pregnant, I'll have to go to court over custody/ child support and lose in an unjust fashion, and then this man is going to runaway and leave us high and dry all alone. Perfect, might as well just jump from the harness when I go parasailing tomorrow since this future is looking oh so enjoyable" I thought how cool to "know." It is neat to hear that things could go one way or another just depending on how I "saw things." I don't know if y'all have noticed, but I am very indecisive and unpredictable. Even though this might be a bunch of bologna, even though this could just be a man who pulled me in with his fancy card tricks, it was nice to "see" into the crystal ball and have half an idea of what could possibly happen. Cross your fingers that there is no baby or fleeing man or legal issue that favors the other person in an unjust fashion. But even still, the possibilities are amazing, and the chance of knowing what is to come is just thrilling.
I think the whole art of this fortune telling thing is to give people options. They say it could be this, but it could also be this if you aren't happy with the answer I have given you. I think the whole point is to say, you have a choice in this life, in this future. The message, I think, is to choose wisely if you are presented with the choice. So I am not wanting to create a baby, even though The Empress means fertility and creation, I have the option to look at this as maybe my creation will be my blog and its many posts, or maybe something in writing other than a blog. Who knows? The only way to know for sure is to just live and let it happen.
This dark house that I don't know very well and the fact that everyone has gone to bed has me a bit jumpy. I am a scary movie buff and these back windows kind of remind me of the scariest movie I have ever seen "The Strangers." Seriously, if you haven't seen it, I probably wouldn't watch it at night or maybe not at all if you plan on sleeping the next few weeks. My brother Tyler, aka Mr. Badass nothing-scares-me, wouldn't stay in my mom's living room for months past a certain time because the windows out by the pool are very similar to the ones in the movie that the creepy-make-you-pee-your-pants people with the horrifying masks would stare at the innocent honeymooners through. Yeah, I am now currently moving further away from the big windows that look out on the now eery looking garden that looks so enchanted beneath the sunlight.
Just recently, I saw "The Conjuring" which is by far the best horror flick I have seen since "The Strangers." My body hurt so bad from staying so seized up and tight while watching it because it was that chilling. It is like you didn't get the typical break between scary scenes like other movies. I have never been so cold or had chills for an entire movie like I did for this one. This movie sort of got me thinking about the spirit world. I like to indulge in this curiosity every once in a while about this subject every once in a while. I constantly look up the meanings of strange dreams that I have. It could be because Sarah has tried to convince me to do one of those spirit board things with her, or that the movie just had profound effects on me. But while I was in Key West, I had the perfect opportunity to give into my ever curious mind about the supernatural world and its maybe/maybe not existence.
Every night in Key West at a place called Mallory Square, the locals and tourists celebrate the end of the day with something called the Sunset Festival. I've never seen such a sunset quite as grand and blazing as the one here. The way it reflects its golden rays off the water makes it shine like diamonds of a higher quality than Cartier. It is truly something to behold at least once in your life. If you live in Florida, you really have no excuse to not visit Key West. Is it a tourist trap? Duh! But it is an adventure worth going on down there. That blog post is coming soon, I promise. My feeble memory is hurting lately, and I am having to write down all of my ideas instead of them just coming to me later.
So how do scary movies and superstitions intertwine with my Southernmost Point vacation? At this sunset festival, there are a lot of street performers. Most of them look like they sleep in a box every night, but that is okay, they are still very entertaining and funny. People will do some crazy things for a dollar. Some man climbed up on a twelve foot tall unicycle and juggled flaming bats. I give this lot of misfits props, they are doing something about not having a "job- job" to still earn money for themselves.
Out of all the misfit performers, someone stood out to me. In the middle of the square, there sat a man underneath the shade of a large black umbrella. He stood out because in a sea of tattered t-shirts and old fedoras and bowlers, this man had on a crisp white collared shirt and of all things, a Burberry tie. He looked as though he belonged in a business office rather than on performers' row. He sat at a table draped in a velvety red covering, and atop that red covering sat a crystal ball. This man was a fortune teller and he was looking at me as though he had been waiting for me all day.
Now, I do not actually really believe that there is an order of elite folks who can tell you what is going to happen tomorrow. I don't really know what I believe about stuff like this, but I don't think all of it is a load of bull. Was this man in the Burberry tie a chosen elite who could shed light on my future by pulling back the celestial curtains? Probably not. But there was something compelling in the way his eyes, as if they were beckoning me to sit with him for a while. So I did.
I plopped down in his chair, happy to take refuge from the sun underneath the shadow his umbrella cast on me. He started shuffling a deck of cards and asked me what I wanted to do today. Palmistry? Nah. Crystal ball? Nope. He already seemed to know the answer, as he was handing me the deck of cards instead of continuing down the list of other services he offered. In fact, that was the first thing he touched when I approached the table. Hmm....
I told him I had never had a card reading before and he explained that I simply had to shuffle the deck until I felt content, cut the deck into a few separate piles of any size, and take a card from each of the piles (I think it was directly from the top)pick up the decks from right to left and hand all the cards back to him. I shuffled the deck for what felt like forever. I was secretly hoping to ditch a shitty fortune in the midst of the cards, like if I shuffled them enough, the misfortune would somehow evade my hand. After a few rounds I felt like I had probably shuffled enough and the fates were probably getting tired of me taking more than my time. Cutting the cards into separate piles was another thing. I didn't know if I should do them all of equal piles or if I should do random sizes or line them up from biggest to smallest. There is a lot of pressure on a girl when she is trying to hear what her future may hold! Finally, I was satisfied with my piles and the arrangement of them and laid them out on the table to pick up in the strategic right to left fashion.
My fortune teller began to do some crazy slide of hand movements with the piles of cards, moving them all around in front of my eyes. I couldn't really keep up with it, but soon he was flipping cards with people face up in front of me every which way. Some were facing me, some were backwards, some were sideways. I saw a beautiful woman who was cloaked in white and seemed to be glowing and radiant in her chair with vines growing all around her, I saw a woman wrapped in something that made her look bound like a mummy with the bands around her eyes with many swords stabbed in the ground surrounding her, there was a man working on something with a line of eight stars in circles facing me, a man in a chair with a set of scales looking thing was flipped upside down from my view, there was a handsome man riding a white stallion brandishing a long sword that was also turned upside down, a heart with three swords stabbed into it was upside down, a queenly looking woman called the High Priestess, another looking queenly woman doting a sword of her own while kicked back in a beautiful throne (this was my kind of card I thought), a hand holding a sword that was poked through a crown, and lastly a man in a short dress looking thing with a long staff.
My fortune teller proceeded to explain to me that I had: The Eight of Swords, The High Priestess, The Three of Swords, The Empress, The Eight of Pentacles, The Queen of Swords, The Ace of Swords, Justice, The Knight of Swords, and the Page of Wands.
He said, let's start with the near past. He motioned to the girl who was bound and surrounded by swords. I am totally about to cheat because I can't remember word for word what this guy said about this card. When in doubt, Google it. This is what Google had to say about The Eight of Swords:
This card usually indicates a time of powerlessness and restriction, and more often than not this restriction is self-imposed. You may be holding yourself back because you fear moving into the future, or because you are wary of getting hurt by a new situation, or maybe for no reason at all. In rare instances you will find that another person's action - or inaction - is what keeps you from moving forward, but most of the time the blame falls on you alone. You cannot be held back unless part of you wants to be held back. The trick is finding a way to overcome that, and free yourself from the bonds of fear and doubt.
Basically he was saying that in my not too far past I had felt trapped by something or that I was holding myself back from something for fear of the unknown. Well, he was right. But I am always fearful of the future and afraid to step off the road of the past that is somehow clearer once you have already walked it into the dim visibility of the unknown future. I am thinking it may have had something to do with the fact that after I broke up with my ex, I kind of pulled back from the world of dating and boyfriends. Trapped by myself I suppose. At least I am cool to be trapped with.
The next card was The High Priestess. She is the "Inner Voice" and is a direct link to the unconscious mind. He basically told me I was very intuitive to the world around me, especially people. He said that I can relate to people on a level that is unparalleled to the way others relate to each other. Nailed it!
My heart dropped a little as he hesitated from touching the heart with the three swords stabbed deeply through its chambers. It doesn't take Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson on the scene to figure out this one meant some sort of heart break. He was still on my past so I was thinking he was probably going to talk about me and my ex. But that didn't really make sense to me because that break up didn't really break my heart. I knew it was coming and I was over it by the next day. To my surprise, he said that I had actually felt some heart ache around the "dawn of the new year." Meaning I had experienced pain of the heart around January. I have to say, it wasn't heart ache, just dull disappointment. But nevertheless, he was still right. My heart was sad for a fool who hadn't changed the slightest in more than the insignificant sense of love. There was no love there, not even a like, but I had hoped just for a moment that everything had changed.
We moved into the here and now with The Eight of Pentacles, the little man working on something was next. He told me that I had been working hard on something lately and that if I was to continue to put forth a doubled effort, it was going to make me very successful and happy. Hmm... wonder what that could be? I think I have an idea of what it could be. We shall see I suppose.
My fortune teller wanted to proceed into the very near future with The Empress. He explained to me that this beautiful woman was the face of creation and grace in everything she made. The Empress, he said, sees and takes significant joy in everything that she makes. My mind went immediately to my blog. This is my baby and I have never made something that I enjoy more. He said the love The Empress embodies is both her greatest strength and her most daunting weakness, being as though even though she loves so much, sometimes that love is not reciprocated with the same magnitude.
Then something happened that I hadn't expected. His ears turned a little pink and his cheeks went flush as he told me The Empress represented something else. His eyes flashed from mine to my mother's who was standing behind hanging onto every word probably more so than I was. Mr. Crystal ball said that The Empress represents fertility and the chance of having a baby. "Since The Empress came to us in this position, I would say it is very likely that you will become pregnant in the fall of this year. If you do not wish to become a mother right now, I would recommend extreme caution because she is very willful in this for you this year." WHAT IN THE HELL!? I felt my mouth fall open and I just couldn't even speak. I felt my neck getting hot and I am pretty sure the setting sun had nothing to do with the sweat that began to bead on my skin. WHAT?! The only thing I could do was think, "Absolutely not having sex with anyone. I am so glad I don't have a boyfriend. I cannot take a baby in the Baby Bjorn to Physics in the spring. Might as well wrap my lower half in crime scene tape because there is nobody going between the space where my jeans meet my skin. Nope, no babies. Absolutely freaking not. Kinley is enough baby for me right now, and she is one that I can give back to her Momma when I can't please her with Doggies (aka 101 Dalmatians) and chocolate milk.
I was too stunned to pay too much attention to the Queen of Swords and the Ace of Swords because I was just thinking of how I needed to padlock myself in a tower and guard myself with a dragon to insure a little prince or princess didn't happen to me. Then he got to Justice. Justice, he explained, often dealt with things of legal means. The scales represent the balance between fair and unfair. He cautioned me that the position of this card meant that something very unjust was going to happen to me around coming up March-May. Perfect, that's just what I need is for my life to turn into an episode of Judge Judy.
The handsome faced man on his noble steed was the Knight of Swords. Surely, this was good news. Surely it was saying some beautiful man was going to come riding into my life and whisk me away to live out our fairytale. Surely, something in these cards would show my love life turning around. How very wrong I was. My fashionable fortune teller proceeded to tell me with a heavy sigh that the placement of this card represented a man fleeing from my life quickly. He said not to fear death more so than a love interest leaving and disappearing suddenly. Great.
The last, the Page of Wands was my last hope for some sort of happiness out of being pregnant, defeated legally and being lonely. He said with sweet splendor that the Page of Wands is to represent passion for something and childlike wonder and interest in something, and also total fearlessness in whatever I am currently pursuing or will pursue. He said it could come in the form of something that sparks my interest and that the Page will lend me his creative notion to make whatever it is grand. Once this Page enters, your life will never be the same. He said it could be in the form of a person who is so carefree and wonderful who could come into my life. I thought inwardly that it probably won't be a man since I just saw him galloping away with my broken heart and crushed dreams. This person brings you a childlike happiness that is hard to keep contained. Perhaps it is my sweet little niece who brings me so much joy and happiness just to be around her who is the Page of Wands in my life. Or maybe it is a man, who is creative and ambitious and fun and looks at the world in awe. Just the thing I am looking for in a man.
How interesting it was listen to a man in a nice tie tell me what my future is to hold and the options that each card brings. Even in my moment of despair as I thought, "Cool, I will be pregnant, I'll have to go to court over custody/ child support and lose in an unjust fashion, and then this man is going to runaway and leave us high and dry all alone. Perfect, might as well just jump from the harness when I go parasailing tomorrow since this future is looking oh so enjoyable" I thought how cool to "know." It is neat to hear that things could go one way or another just depending on how I "saw things." I don't know if y'all have noticed, but I am very indecisive and unpredictable. Even though this might be a bunch of bologna, even though this could just be a man who pulled me in with his fancy card tricks, it was nice to "see" into the crystal ball and have half an idea of what could possibly happen. Cross your fingers that there is no baby or fleeing man or legal issue that favors the other person in an unjust fashion. But even still, the possibilities are amazing, and the chance of knowing what is to come is just thrilling.
I think the whole art of this fortune telling thing is to give people options. They say it could be this, but it could also be this if you aren't happy with the answer I have given you. I think the whole point is to say, you have a choice in this life, in this future. The message, I think, is to choose wisely if you are presented with the choice. So I am not wanting to create a baby, even though The Empress means fertility and creation, I have the option to look at this as maybe my creation will be my blog and its many posts, or maybe something in writing other than a blog. Who knows? The only way to know for sure is to just live and let it happen.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
The Beginning of the Dirtay Three's
Hello all from beautiful Federal Way Washington,
Last week I stood at the Southernmost point of the continental U.S. in Key West and now I am all the way up on the West Coast visiting my other set of Grandparents and Aunt Melanie. It is actually kind of chilly here tonight, which I am totally loving after Mildred the Mazda aka my car informed me that it was 106 degrees outside in Jacksonville the other day. You know you live in Florida when your legs stick to your cloth seats like they would leather. You know you live in Florida when you buy Baby Lips chapstick multiple times a month because if you leave yours in the car for 2.5 minutes, it has melted like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz.
Enough of the crappy "You know you are in Florida when..." sayings though. I want to go back to a time three summers ago on a hot day, like the other day in my car, when Cassie and I moved into the notorious apartment 13311 in Tallahassee to begin the college chapter of our lives. It was just 2 weeks ago that I put my electronic key into the garnet painted door to lock it for the last time and bid 13311 a bittersweet goodbye. I must say, I got progressively sadder as Cassie and I painted the cheetah print walls that Taytum's Mom and Nana had so craftily painted back to the industrial white over this past summer to get it move in ready for the next pack of roommates. It was like we were painting over memories and stories that the walls would tell if only they could talk. At this moment, I am glad walls aren't able to tattle on the things they have been privy to since we started living there. The tales range from amazing to crazy to good to ugly to sexy to you-better-not-tell-anyone-or-I'll-hacksaw-you-in-half to best moments of my life.
Cassie and I had just gotten through our last day of orientation when my Nanny and Momma Ruby (Cassie's mom) decided to inform us that the apartment we had picked out online was not adequate for our taste in real life and that they had canceled the lease. How that happened I have no idea. Most places won't let you do it without some epic legal battle. I suppose Momma Ruby worked her wicked black magic. Seriously, I have never met someone who can pull strings and do whatever she wants like Ruby does. Also, she wins everything. Any kind of raffle, radio show give away, pick the lucky duck in the pond, etc. If it can be won, Ruby will win it. She won the same radio contest twice before. She's definitely a wizard.
Well, the dilemma then came, where were we to live? We only had a few weeks to find a place and most places were filling up or full. We should have known that they had already conspired and fixed this problem for us. We drove to a place called Boardwalk at Appleyard apartments. Upon pulling up we could tell it was nice. We were met upon arrival by a tan skinned man with slicked back black hair. He had a Rico Suave vibe about him with a slick voice to match. He led us into the model apartment and we instantly fell in love. It was spacious, pretty, the rooms had queen beds and we would each have a bathroom to ourselves. I distinctly remember trying to find something wrong with the place and I made the comment, "the bathrooms are small," but there was a little voice inside me saying where do we sign up?
Nanny and Ruby had already taken care of that too. We were already signed up and just needed to put our John Hancock on a few papers.
A few weeks latter, laden down with boxes, bedspreads and baseball bats (my boyfriend at the time gave me one to "protect myself" with), we pulled around to the apartment we were supposed to move into. Rico Suave aka Francis told us we would be moving into a newly cleaned all ready to go apartment. With the little buzzing sound the electronic key made and a swing of a door, we knew all too well that the apartment hadn't been cleaned in months, if ever. There was stuff everywhere and a family of roaches had made Gaylord Resort out of this apartment. They were everywhere! If Nanny had been about to faint because of the stains on the runner boards, she was practically on the floor from the roaches. Ruby stormed up to the front and demanded we be moved immediately. The poor soul up at the front desk apologized frantically saying there had been a mistake and handed us a new set of keys to apartment 13311. It was all the way in the back, but I saw the silver lining. At least it wasn't next to the creepy woods. Cassie liked the fact that the bus stop was right outside our door as well so things were looking up.
We thought, second time must be a charm. With a silent prayer I slid my key into the spaceage lock and opened the door to find something more peculiar than the roaches and a dirty apartment.
From our post in the door frame, we could see a large, dark figure on the couch. And it was breathing! Well snoring actually. You see, we had interrupted the sleep of a very large black man. He was about as big as Hagrid from Harry Potter and was as startled to see us as we were to see him in lounging form. His name has slipped my mind now, but he was a security guard for Boardwalk and he had been living there. He moved rapidly around the apartment grabbing Gatorade bottles and clothes while apologizing frantically. Stunned and shocked, we proceeded to move in after he left swiftly out the door.
Now, with moving into a new place that other people have lived in before, I knew we would probably hit a few snags with whatever problems they had left behind. My bed was one of them. I am not sure what was done on this bed to make it feel and sound the way it did, but it sounded like it had been put in a very large washing machine on the deep wash cycle. It was probably just an old mattress that needed to be replaced. Every time I simply turned over in the bed, it sounded like I was making a dirty movie with how much it squeaked and squealed. My next door neighbors probably thought I was either a slut or just very very lucky.
My very favorite malady this apartment brought with it was the refrigerator. My Nanny, Mom, and Momma Ruby had all went to Sam's to stock Cassie and I up on Ramen Noodles, Eggo Waffles, and all sorts of other college cuisine type foods. They spent a lot of money on bulk freezer items to last us for a while. One night upon coming home starving for some salad with grilled chicken on top, I called Cassie to see if she wanted me to make enough for her. Of course she did, girl can barely boil water without burning the house down. I was chatting with her on the phone to help pass the time until she got there. I proceeded to grab the chicken breast out of the freezer so I could put it on our little grill when something made me swear and scream. Something very warm and wet hit my feet.
For about two seconds, I had no idea what was going on. I had a moment of terror thinking that my water had just broken like I was pregnant or something. Cassie and I went through an obsessive phase with a show called "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant" and there were all sorts of horrific recounts of women who had no idea they were pregnant and randomly had babies on boats and in toilets. After a moment of rational, I figured out that the semi thick pale pink liquid was from the bag of chicken I had just pulled from the freezer. I was confused. How on earth could it have been all watery if it was in the freezer? I pulled the freezer door back open only to realize that it was obviously broken. There was water all in the freezer from everything melting. My favorite was a tub of strawberry ice cream that had gotten frothy from the heat and foamed up out of the carton to fill the freezer with a pink, sticky, foamy mess. It looked like Barbie threw up in there! I was literally gagging as I mopped up the goopy chicken disgustingness off my feet and off my floor. Needless to say, we ate out that night and I had completely lost my appetite for grilled chicken salad.
As I am writing this blog, I have decided to do a segment called "The Dirtay Threes." It will be all about the misadventures in apartment 13311 with all the roommates I came to love or leave behind in life. Get ready y'all, it is going to be a fun ride in the Dirtay Three posts.
Last week I stood at the Southernmost point of the continental U.S. in Key West and now I am all the way up on the West Coast visiting my other set of Grandparents and Aunt Melanie. It is actually kind of chilly here tonight, which I am totally loving after Mildred the Mazda aka my car informed me that it was 106 degrees outside in Jacksonville the other day. You know you live in Florida when your legs stick to your cloth seats like they would leather. You know you live in Florida when you buy Baby Lips chapstick multiple times a month because if you leave yours in the car for 2.5 minutes, it has melted like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz.
Enough of the crappy "You know you are in Florida when..." sayings though. I want to go back to a time three summers ago on a hot day, like the other day in my car, when Cassie and I moved into the notorious apartment 13311 in Tallahassee to begin the college chapter of our lives. It was just 2 weeks ago that I put my electronic key into the garnet painted door to lock it for the last time and bid 13311 a bittersweet goodbye. I must say, I got progressively sadder as Cassie and I painted the cheetah print walls that Taytum's Mom and Nana had so craftily painted back to the industrial white over this past summer to get it move in ready for the next pack of roommates. It was like we were painting over memories and stories that the walls would tell if only they could talk. At this moment, I am glad walls aren't able to tattle on the things they have been privy to since we started living there. The tales range from amazing to crazy to good to ugly to sexy to you-better-not-tell-anyone-or-I'll-hacksaw-you-in-half to best moments of my life.
Cassie and I had just gotten through our last day of orientation when my Nanny and Momma Ruby (Cassie's mom) decided to inform us that the apartment we had picked out online was not adequate for our taste in real life and that they had canceled the lease. How that happened I have no idea. Most places won't let you do it without some epic legal battle. I suppose Momma Ruby worked her wicked black magic. Seriously, I have never met someone who can pull strings and do whatever she wants like Ruby does. Also, she wins everything. Any kind of raffle, radio show give away, pick the lucky duck in the pond, etc. If it can be won, Ruby will win it. She won the same radio contest twice before. She's definitely a wizard.
Well, the dilemma then came, where were we to live? We only had a few weeks to find a place and most places were filling up or full. We should have known that they had already conspired and fixed this problem for us. We drove to a place called Boardwalk at Appleyard apartments. Upon pulling up we could tell it was nice. We were met upon arrival by a tan skinned man with slicked back black hair. He had a Rico Suave vibe about him with a slick voice to match. He led us into the model apartment and we instantly fell in love. It was spacious, pretty, the rooms had queen beds and we would each have a bathroom to ourselves. I distinctly remember trying to find something wrong with the place and I made the comment, "the bathrooms are small," but there was a little voice inside me saying where do we sign up?
Nanny and Ruby had already taken care of that too. We were already signed up and just needed to put our John Hancock on a few papers.
A few weeks latter, laden down with boxes, bedspreads and baseball bats (my boyfriend at the time gave me one to "protect myself" with), we pulled around to the apartment we were supposed to move into. Rico Suave aka Francis told us we would be moving into a newly cleaned all ready to go apartment. With the little buzzing sound the electronic key made and a swing of a door, we knew all too well that the apartment hadn't been cleaned in months, if ever. There was stuff everywhere and a family of roaches had made Gaylord Resort out of this apartment. They were everywhere! If Nanny had been about to faint because of the stains on the runner boards, she was practically on the floor from the roaches. Ruby stormed up to the front and demanded we be moved immediately. The poor soul up at the front desk apologized frantically saying there had been a mistake and handed us a new set of keys to apartment 13311. It was all the way in the back, but I saw the silver lining. At least it wasn't next to the creepy woods. Cassie liked the fact that the bus stop was right outside our door as well so things were looking up.
We thought, second time must be a charm. With a silent prayer I slid my key into the spaceage lock and opened the door to find something more peculiar than the roaches and a dirty apartment.
From our post in the door frame, we could see a large, dark figure on the couch. And it was breathing! Well snoring actually. You see, we had interrupted the sleep of a very large black man. He was about as big as Hagrid from Harry Potter and was as startled to see us as we were to see him in lounging form. His name has slipped my mind now, but he was a security guard for Boardwalk and he had been living there. He moved rapidly around the apartment grabbing Gatorade bottles and clothes while apologizing frantically. Stunned and shocked, we proceeded to move in after he left swiftly out the door.
Now, with moving into a new place that other people have lived in before, I knew we would probably hit a few snags with whatever problems they had left behind. My bed was one of them. I am not sure what was done on this bed to make it feel and sound the way it did, but it sounded like it had been put in a very large washing machine on the deep wash cycle. It was probably just an old mattress that needed to be replaced. Every time I simply turned over in the bed, it sounded like I was making a dirty movie with how much it squeaked and squealed. My next door neighbors probably thought I was either a slut or just very very lucky.
My very favorite malady this apartment brought with it was the refrigerator. My Nanny, Mom, and Momma Ruby had all went to Sam's to stock Cassie and I up on Ramen Noodles, Eggo Waffles, and all sorts of other college cuisine type foods. They spent a lot of money on bulk freezer items to last us for a while. One night upon coming home starving for some salad with grilled chicken on top, I called Cassie to see if she wanted me to make enough for her. Of course she did, girl can barely boil water without burning the house down. I was chatting with her on the phone to help pass the time until she got there. I proceeded to grab the chicken breast out of the freezer so I could put it on our little grill when something made me swear and scream. Something very warm and wet hit my feet.
For about two seconds, I had no idea what was going on. I had a moment of terror thinking that my water had just broken like I was pregnant or something. Cassie and I went through an obsessive phase with a show called "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant" and there were all sorts of horrific recounts of women who had no idea they were pregnant and randomly had babies on boats and in toilets. After a moment of rational, I figured out that the semi thick pale pink liquid was from the bag of chicken I had just pulled from the freezer. I was confused. How on earth could it have been all watery if it was in the freezer? I pulled the freezer door back open only to realize that it was obviously broken. There was water all in the freezer from everything melting. My favorite was a tub of strawberry ice cream that had gotten frothy from the heat and foamed up out of the carton to fill the freezer with a pink, sticky, foamy mess. It looked like Barbie threw up in there! I was literally gagging as I mopped up the goopy chicken disgustingness off my feet and off my floor. Needless to say, we ate out that night and I had completely lost my appetite for grilled chicken salad.
As I am writing this blog, I have decided to do a segment called "The Dirtay Threes." It will be all about the misadventures in apartment 13311 with all the roommates I came to love or leave behind in life. Get ready y'all, it is going to be a fun ride in the Dirtay Three posts.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Classy Girls Don't Kiss in Bars
Hello all,
It has been a minute since I last posted, but I have been out in the world trying to do blog worthy things. I am not a fan of uninteresting writing so I try not not write if I feel it may bore my readers to tears and slitting their wrists. Since my last, I have been on a vacation, attended a truly wild 21st birthday party, almost gotten fired, moved out of the infamous 13311 (my apartment in Tallahassee) and started drinking Plexus. Yep, all totally blog worthy.
So since most of my friends were born in or around 1991/92, 2013 has not only been the year of the snake, but for me it has been the year of the 21st birthday waltz. Seriously, I have never partied so much in my life. I'm just not much of a party person. Literally, the first time I ever got drunk was at my apartment in Tallahassee with Ashley and Cassie. Since I had never been drunk we decided to just take shots all night until we couldn't anymore. These two dorks ended up sleeping under our coffee table with Mulan playing in the background. I was remixing the cute innocent Disney songs in my mind whilst trying to get these girls into their beds. Instead of "we must be swift as a coursing river" I was all like "we must be swift as a shot of vodka." Cassie refused to move and said, "She's warm" and snuggled closer to Ashley. I was the only one who crawled into bed that night, Cassie smacked her head on the table in the wee hours of the morning thinking she was in her bed and not under a coffee table. The audible thud made me giggle under my sheets in my own squeaky sorry excuse for a bed. My poor neighbors probably got tired of the spring loaded sounds produced by sexy nature and thought I was working for an escort service with how much noise my bed made. Little did they know I was simply rolling over, not roll playing a scene from Fifty Shades of Grey.
But back to the 21st birthday party I just attended a few weeks ago. It feels so weird for me to say weeks, I have truly missed my blog. It is like my baby and I feel as though I have abandoned it. But she is as tough as I am, a little time apart never hurt nobody. Mrs. Norman would likely point out my double negative here. How I made it through her class just baffles me.
Everyone remembers Sarah right? I have talked about her in a few posts before. Well, since about September of last year we have gotten really close. It is kind of creepy how alike we are in some aspects. It may also be creepy that her brother is so freaking hot to me. Sarah likes my brother Tyler too, so naturally I suggested a trade.
Like most of my other friends this year, Sarah turned 21 in July. Having been through my own birthday waltz, I refused to let her celebrate with just any old party. I was determined that she would celebrate with a waltz with the sign, rules, no memories, etc. She of course, was totally down for it. I could tell she was getting progressively more excited about it as the month of June inched closer into July. My sweet little niece doesn't give her many nights out as she must have her chocolate milk and back scratched at a precise time. Meaning, whenever she starts screaming for milk and says, "No, that's not right. Scratch under the shirt (insert whoever she has deemed her slave for the day's name)." She really is so deserving of the princess treatment though, those baby blues just melt Caraboo's heart and she gets whatever she wants. And she says the most intelligent things I have ever heard from a 2 year old. She has enlightened me that big people cannot fit through little doors, and that hearts are behind titties. How priceless! Needless to say, Sarah was in need for the first night out she had had in as long as I had started hanging out with her again.
Since everyone who was attending the party was 21 or over, Sarah decided that we would go to the beaches in Jacksonville, rent a hotel room, and hit all of the bars down there for two days straight. By the way, don't try to go into one of those bars down there with a fake ID. Those bouncers have Superman powers and see right through you and your illegal piece of plastic. I was selfishly excited to go to the beaches since I'd never been on that party scene. I knew that it was going to be Cassie's birthday party for me all over again, with one major modification: I would not be puking pink like a pepto-bismol volcano all over the pub floor. So when we took our first shots with our friends Destiny, Jessica, Amy, and Ashley, we toasted to having as much fun as possible without getting sick. As that disgusting shot of whatever horrible liquor that was slid down my throat, burning all the way, my inner Cara rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah right, might as well put a pillow by the toilet tonight." I pleasantly punched her in the arm in my mind and told her to shut up and that I could handle this. I should come up with another name for my conscious, any suggestions? Leave a comment and let me know.
We started out the night with dinner at a place called the Blue Water Grill. There are two levels to this place and our reservations were upstairs. One of the girls with us had on a very skimpy dress that didn't leave anything to the imagination. This included her panty line, so she left those at home. As we walked up the stairs, a man downstairs literally looked right up her barely there hemline. Like I know it was practically serving itself on an invisible platter, but avert your eyes asshole.
Our waitress had just started working at this place the night before. Poor girl, she probably handed in her resignation and 2 weeks notice as soon as we walked out. It was Sarah, Ashley, Amy, Jessica, Destiny, Nabila, Sarah's mom and stepdad, me, and I feel like I am leaving others out.... But there was a large number of us all demanding hurricanes and tsunamis and any other natural disaster that could be poured into a pretty glass. The girl looked as though she might quit and run crying by the end of the night. Part of me felt bad, the other part was buzzing on some sort of cataclysmic event of nature.
Everything was going very well. We had good food, frozen mudslides, floods, tornadoes, and great conversation. At some point, this boy who one of the girls wanted to see that night showed up looking more country than a cowlick in his boots and cut off sleeve shirt. I guess he didn't get the memo that the waltz theme was Models and Bottles.
Now, for those of you who don't know me, I like to talk about my ex boyfriends when I have had a few. And, if I am being honest, maybe also the "other girl" who the boyfriend dragged into our love line and made it a retarded triangle. Yeah, I can say some nasty things about these cats. Like I will tell a light switch about it if there is nobody else in the room. It is weird for me because normally I am just so peace, love and chicken wings, but after a few Bud Lite Limes or whatever, I just rant so hard about the exes and the stupid girls who let themselves get involved. I can go from, "Well, it really wasn't her fault," to "Bitch wears soooooooo much eye makeup, she looks like a raccoon," quicker than you want to bite into a lime after a shot of Patron.
Needless to say, I kind of just start getting bitter about males in general. So when this Luke Bryan wannabe walked up to our table with a fat dip in his lip, I was a bit perturbed. It reminded me of an ex who dipped after like every meal and it drove me crazy. And this guy was doing it right at the table. I was so angry about it in fact that I stopped mid conversation with Amy and Destiny to say to this stranger, "Excuse me good sir? Yeah while you are at this dinner table in front of all of us beautiful women, I am going to need you to spit that nasty dip out." I can quote this word for word because Amy found it incredibly funny and has repeated it to me several times since. He didn't. What an ass!
Party time wise, things escalated pretty quickly from there. There were rounds of frozen alcoholic drinks and the food was served. I was so excited about my sweet potato fries (probably a little more excited than usual thanks to my hurricanes). My delight was totally ruined when this guy who I didn't know, who wasn't with our party at all, just strolled up and stuck his hand into my fries and started to eat them...... WAIT, HOLD THE FREAKING PHONE!!!?!?!?!?!? ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?! I looked at him, and freaked out and was like, "Are you going to pay for those b(*&$#?" Like who just comes up and starts eating some stranger girl's sweet potato fries?! Serious party foul. His girlfriend came up and pushed him along and apologized to me and took care of that part of the bill and bought the whole table a round of shots. If only everyone could apologize like this girl did!
There was another party going on right next to our table. It was for a guy's birthday. He didn't exactly look like he was enjoying the drinking, but his friends were pushing him with more and more. Eventually we got the idea that he would be the perfect victim for one of Sarah's waltz things to do which was to take a body shot off of a stranger. His whole table was totally down for it and literally picked him up and laid him across a makeshift platform made of chairs. One girl in his group snatched his shirt up to reveal a grizzly bear hairy tummy. He was quite cute though so in my mind, it wasn't too bad trade off. Sarah's mom aka Ma-P, started shrieking "Sarah DON'T DO IT!!!!" but we were all forcing her over there, nose first towards his belly button full of booze. She did me proud and licked it all up. Ma P looked like she was about to faint.
Everyone in both parties thought it would only be fair if the boy took a body shot off of Sarah. Seeing as she couldn't just lift up her dress, the guy's party declared a titty shot. The same girl who forced the man to pull his shirt up slammed Sarah down in a chair and shoved a shot glass between her breasts. The guy was so nervous looking, but succumbed to the pressure of his peers and of our table all screaming "TITTY SHOT!" loud enough for the whole strip to hear. He got down on his knees and expertly lifted the shot glass via mouth and turned his head up draining the liquid out of it. He was all, "Look Ma, no hands!"
After quite an eventful dinner, we hit up a most of the bars. At one that I do not recall the name of, I decided to dance. For those of you who know me, you know I dance badly. For those of you who haven't had the distinctly interesting pleasure yet, just youtube bad mascot dances and you will probably get the picture. I don't dance. But tonight I made an exception and did. And some guy decided to dance with me, which is about as rare of an occurrence as a unicorn crossing highway 90. And I decided that I didn't care that he was dancing with me. And I decided to kiss him. Or maybe it was he who decided that. But we did. Multiple times.... Oh my stars, I never ever do stuff like that! This girl doesn't make out with strangers at a bar! What in the actual heck? I felt so mad because that Classy Girls song by The Lumineers declares that classy girls don't kiss in bars. That was definitely a first, and probably a last since I hear you don't meet your sweetheart by smooching next to the bar stools. I am proud to say I at least asked his name, it was Carl. I shouted several times that that is my stepdad's name and eventually decided that I should get away from Carl. My flight of fight senses must have been tingling or something, even though I do not recall him looking like a creep. I am told he was good looking. Amen and Praise the Lord that he didn't have a fever blister.
I wasn't the only one knocking boots on the dance floor. The birthday girl found some guy that she works with (I think) and said she needed to get 21 birthday kisses. Normally people just do a quick peck on the cheek to fulfill this waltz obligation. But not Sarah. She ran the distance of the whole make-out mile! I've got the pictures to prove it.
Never forget that your friends are always there to gather blackmail on you. It is just more unfortunate for the blackmailee if that friend has a blog that a few people read like I just so happen to have. It is okay though, I sometimes normally do or maybe not ask her about what I can and cannot post on here. This may or may not be one of those times.
We were done with that night at some point. I laid down thinking not much of anything, but what I did think was, we achieved our goal, nobody was sick. But that was just day one.
It has been a minute since I last posted, but I have been out in the world trying to do blog worthy things. I am not a fan of uninteresting writing so I try not not write if I feel it may bore my readers to tears and slitting their wrists. Since my last, I have been on a vacation, attended a truly wild 21st birthday party, almost gotten fired, moved out of the infamous 13311 (my apartment in Tallahassee) and started drinking Plexus. Yep, all totally blog worthy.
So since most of my friends were born in or around 1991/92, 2013 has not only been the year of the snake, but for me it has been the year of the 21st birthday waltz. Seriously, I have never partied so much in my life. I'm just not much of a party person. Literally, the first time I ever got drunk was at my apartment in Tallahassee with Ashley and Cassie. Since I had never been drunk we decided to just take shots all night until we couldn't anymore. These two dorks ended up sleeping under our coffee table with Mulan playing in the background. I was remixing the cute innocent Disney songs in my mind whilst trying to get these girls into their beds. Instead of "we must be swift as a coursing river" I was all like "we must be swift as a shot of vodka." Cassie refused to move and said, "She's warm" and snuggled closer to Ashley. I was the only one who crawled into bed that night, Cassie smacked her head on the table in the wee hours of the morning thinking she was in her bed and not under a coffee table. The audible thud made me giggle under my sheets in my own squeaky sorry excuse for a bed. My poor neighbors probably got tired of the spring loaded sounds produced by sexy nature and thought I was working for an escort service with how much noise my bed made. Little did they know I was simply rolling over, not roll playing a scene from Fifty Shades of Grey.
But back to the 21st birthday party I just attended a few weeks ago. It feels so weird for me to say weeks, I have truly missed my blog. It is like my baby and I feel as though I have abandoned it. But she is as tough as I am, a little time apart never hurt nobody. Mrs. Norman would likely point out my double negative here. How I made it through her class just baffles me.
Everyone remembers Sarah right? I have talked about her in a few posts before. Well, since about September of last year we have gotten really close. It is kind of creepy how alike we are in some aspects. It may also be creepy that her brother is so freaking hot to me. Sarah likes my brother Tyler too, so naturally I suggested a trade.
Like most of my other friends this year, Sarah turned 21 in July. Having been through my own birthday waltz, I refused to let her celebrate with just any old party. I was determined that she would celebrate with a waltz with the sign, rules, no memories, etc. She of course, was totally down for it. I could tell she was getting progressively more excited about it as the month of June inched closer into July. My sweet little niece doesn't give her many nights out as she must have her chocolate milk and back scratched at a precise time. Meaning, whenever she starts screaming for milk and says, "No, that's not right. Scratch under the shirt (insert whoever she has deemed her slave for the day's name)." She really is so deserving of the princess treatment though, those baby blues just melt Caraboo's heart and she gets whatever she wants. And she says the most intelligent things I have ever heard from a 2 year old. She has enlightened me that big people cannot fit through little doors, and that hearts are behind titties. How priceless! Needless to say, Sarah was in need for the first night out she had had in as long as I had started hanging out with her again.
Since everyone who was attending the party was 21 or over, Sarah decided that we would go to the beaches in Jacksonville, rent a hotel room, and hit all of the bars down there for two days straight. By the way, don't try to go into one of those bars down there with a fake ID. Those bouncers have Superman powers and see right through you and your illegal piece of plastic. I was selfishly excited to go to the beaches since I'd never been on that party scene. I knew that it was going to be Cassie's birthday party for me all over again, with one major modification: I would not be puking pink like a pepto-bismol volcano all over the pub floor. So when we took our first shots with our friends Destiny, Jessica, Amy, and Ashley, we toasted to having as much fun as possible without getting sick. As that disgusting shot of whatever horrible liquor that was slid down my throat, burning all the way, my inner Cara rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah right, might as well put a pillow by the toilet tonight." I pleasantly punched her in the arm in my mind and told her to shut up and that I could handle this. I should come up with another name for my conscious, any suggestions? Leave a comment and let me know.
We started out the night with dinner at a place called the Blue Water Grill. There are two levels to this place and our reservations were upstairs. One of the girls with us had on a very skimpy dress that didn't leave anything to the imagination. This included her panty line, so she left those at home. As we walked up the stairs, a man downstairs literally looked right up her barely there hemline. Like I know it was practically serving itself on an invisible platter, but avert your eyes asshole.
Our waitress had just started working at this place the night before. Poor girl, she probably handed in her resignation and 2 weeks notice as soon as we walked out. It was Sarah, Ashley, Amy, Jessica, Destiny, Nabila, Sarah's mom and stepdad, me, and I feel like I am leaving others out.... But there was a large number of us all demanding hurricanes and tsunamis and any other natural disaster that could be poured into a pretty glass. The girl looked as though she might quit and run crying by the end of the night. Part of me felt bad, the other part was buzzing on some sort of cataclysmic event of nature.
Everything was going very well. We had good food, frozen mudslides, floods, tornadoes, and great conversation. At some point, this boy who one of the girls wanted to see that night showed up looking more country than a cowlick in his boots and cut off sleeve shirt. I guess he didn't get the memo that the waltz theme was Models and Bottles.
Now, for those of you who don't know me, I like to talk about my ex boyfriends when I have had a few. And, if I am being honest, maybe also the "other girl" who the boyfriend dragged into our love line and made it a retarded triangle. Yeah, I can say some nasty things about these cats. Like I will tell a light switch about it if there is nobody else in the room. It is weird for me because normally I am just so peace, love and chicken wings, but after a few Bud Lite Limes or whatever, I just rant so hard about the exes and the stupid girls who let themselves get involved. I can go from, "Well, it really wasn't her fault," to "Bitch wears soooooooo much eye makeup, she looks like a raccoon," quicker than you want to bite into a lime after a shot of Patron.
Needless to say, I kind of just start getting bitter about males in general. So when this Luke Bryan wannabe walked up to our table with a fat dip in his lip, I was a bit perturbed. It reminded me of an ex who dipped after like every meal and it drove me crazy. And this guy was doing it right at the table. I was so angry about it in fact that I stopped mid conversation with Amy and Destiny to say to this stranger, "Excuse me good sir? Yeah while you are at this dinner table in front of all of us beautiful women, I am going to need you to spit that nasty dip out." I can quote this word for word because Amy found it incredibly funny and has repeated it to me several times since. He didn't. What an ass!
Party time wise, things escalated pretty quickly from there. There were rounds of frozen alcoholic drinks and the food was served. I was so excited about my sweet potato fries (probably a little more excited than usual thanks to my hurricanes). My delight was totally ruined when this guy who I didn't know, who wasn't with our party at all, just strolled up and stuck his hand into my fries and started to eat them...... WAIT, HOLD THE FREAKING PHONE!!!?!?!?!?!? ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?! I looked at him, and freaked out and was like, "Are you going to pay for those b(*&$#?" Like who just comes up and starts eating some stranger girl's sweet potato fries?! Serious party foul. His girlfriend came up and pushed him along and apologized to me and took care of that part of the bill and bought the whole table a round of shots. If only everyone could apologize like this girl did!
There was another party going on right next to our table. It was for a guy's birthday. He didn't exactly look like he was enjoying the drinking, but his friends were pushing him with more and more. Eventually we got the idea that he would be the perfect victim for one of Sarah's waltz things to do which was to take a body shot off of a stranger. His whole table was totally down for it and literally picked him up and laid him across a makeshift platform made of chairs. One girl in his group snatched his shirt up to reveal a grizzly bear hairy tummy. He was quite cute though so in my mind, it wasn't too bad trade off. Sarah's mom aka Ma-P, started shrieking "Sarah DON'T DO IT!!!!" but we were all forcing her over there, nose first towards his belly button full of booze. She did me proud and licked it all up. Ma P looked like she was about to faint.
Everyone in both parties thought it would only be fair if the boy took a body shot off of Sarah. Seeing as she couldn't just lift up her dress, the guy's party declared a titty shot. The same girl who forced the man to pull his shirt up slammed Sarah down in a chair and shoved a shot glass between her breasts. The guy was so nervous looking, but succumbed to the pressure of his peers and of our table all screaming "TITTY SHOT!" loud enough for the whole strip to hear. He got down on his knees and expertly lifted the shot glass via mouth and turned his head up draining the liquid out of it. He was all, "Look Ma, no hands!"
After quite an eventful dinner, we hit up a most of the bars. At one that I do not recall the name of, I decided to dance. For those of you who know me, you know I dance badly. For those of you who haven't had the distinctly interesting pleasure yet, just youtube bad mascot dances and you will probably get the picture. I don't dance. But tonight I made an exception and did. And some guy decided to dance with me, which is about as rare of an occurrence as a unicorn crossing highway 90. And I decided that I didn't care that he was dancing with me. And I decided to kiss him. Or maybe it was he who decided that. But we did. Multiple times.... Oh my stars, I never ever do stuff like that! This girl doesn't make out with strangers at a bar! What in the actual heck? I felt so mad because that Classy Girls song by The Lumineers declares that classy girls don't kiss in bars. That was definitely a first, and probably a last since I hear you don't meet your sweetheart by smooching next to the bar stools. I am proud to say I at least asked his name, it was Carl. I shouted several times that that is my stepdad's name and eventually decided that I should get away from Carl. My flight of fight senses must have been tingling or something, even though I do not recall him looking like a creep. I am told he was good looking. Amen and Praise the Lord that he didn't have a fever blister.
I wasn't the only one knocking boots on the dance floor. The birthday girl found some guy that she works with (I think) and said she needed to get 21 birthday kisses. Normally people just do a quick peck on the cheek to fulfill this waltz obligation. But not Sarah. She ran the distance of the whole make-out mile! I've got the pictures to prove it.
Never forget that your friends are always there to gather blackmail on you. It is just more unfortunate for the blackmailee if that friend has a blog that a few people read like I just so happen to have. It is okay though, I sometimes normally do or maybe not ask her about what I can and cannot post on here. This may or may not be one of those times.
We were done with that night at some point. I laid down thinking not much of anything, but what I did think was, we achieved our goal, nobody was sick. But that was just day one.
Monday, July 1, 2013
That "Cara" Lady: Eat, Pray, Love or Eat, Eat, Eat?
That "Cara" Lady: Eat, Pray, Love or Eat, Eat, Eat?: Hello all, This past weekend I was in my hometown. I delighted with the warm welcome of all of my friends and family wanting to spend time...
Eat, Pray, Love or Eat, Eat, Eat?
Hello all,
This past weekend I was in my hometown. I delighted with the warm welcome of all of my friends and family wanting to spend time with me. Sometimes the love is overwhelming but as aunt Heather put it, "At least people give a shit about you."
As you may know by now, my family is not together in a marriage sense. My mom and dad separated when I was younger and mom lives out in Jacksonville while dad is in Glen. The traveling back and forth in between their houses and trying to divide equal time with everyone can be exhausting. I always feel really bad if someone gets left out, but I suppose they realize that I am just one person. Nobody has disowned me yet so I am probably doing a good job with this balancing act.
This "weekend" for me (it really wasn't a weekend but any days off from work are considered my weekend), I had the distinct pleasure of indulging in an all out eat, pray, love experience in Jacksonville. Except for the fact that it was just eat, eat, eat, with a little prayer on the side. Seriously, everyone in my family wanted to take my brother Tyler and I out for a meal. After three weeks of cooking for myself and countless Jimmy John's runs, my appetite for something non-college cuisine-ish refused to let me even consider turning down an option.
I love to eat at different places. Although I have my favorites that I return to time and time again, I am an adventurous in finding new places to dine. If there is one thing I know in the world, it is a good place to get a great bite. With that said, each time I have a meal somewhere new or just have a particular dish at an eating establishment that totally blows my socks off, I am going to write a review of it on this blog! I am no food expert from Hell's Kitchen or Master Chef but I know what tastes good and you might find something on here you want to try for yourself.
Here is a recap of the places I went this weekend:
1) The French Pantry: Located off Powers Street in Jacksonville, this quaint little hole in the wall is exquisitely delicious. When I say hole in the wall, I mean it almost literally. If you aren't looking for the green roof with the white printed name, you will miss it. I've been there several times now and still somehow manage to skip over it while driving. The restaurant is only open on weekdays from 11 to 2 pm. When my brother first told me about this place, I couldn't fathom how they made enough money to stay afloat with those hours in this economy. A little drive by the French Pantry on any given weekday around 10:30 let me know they were doing just fine. A long line wrapped around the front of the building will have already formed by about 35 minutes until opening. I recommend arriving good and hungry around 10:30 at the very latest. You will be glad you did.
Once inside, the restaurant is a combination of cute mismatched tables and chairs with two all glass dessert displays on the register wall and the back wall. We will get to what treasure lies behind the glass in a moment. The walls are decorated with old picture frames and tin canisters and other rustic looking antiques. There are a few people who run the restaurant. There is sweet lady who always works the register. I think she owns the place. A few other quiet, hardworking ladies and one or two men are all that it takes to make The French Pantry what it is. It is always the same people working, and they are so welcoming and accommodating. The moment you walk in your senses will be sent into a tantalizing dance of the aromas of warm fresh baked bread, cheese, and brewing coffee and tea. There are two large menu boards with chalk writing to allow the guests to decide what they want as they wait in line. You order at the cash register rather than the table.
As you approach the registers, be prepared to have a complete food-gasm. What lies behind the glass of those dessert displays can only be described as several slices of heaven. Oh my goodness at the cakes and tarts and macaroons, the eclairs and pastries and fresh chocolate croissants, and the boxes of all sorts of cookies just waiting to be devoured. I have never seen such desserts in my entire life. It looks like something out of a magazine set up by professionals, except this is anything but posing and lighting. The hardest part about the meal? Deciding which one of these babies you will be inhaling later on.
My personal recommendations for a meal at the French Pantry are:
1) The Chicken, Artichoke and Goat Cheese Bruschetta
2) The Raspberry Salad
3) The Turkey, Pesto, and Goat Cheese Sandwich
(Literally, every single thing I have tried here is absolutely fantastic, so I could go on and on).
And for dessert!:
1) The Wedding Cake
2) The Farmer's Cheese Tart (seriously, yum)
3) The Chocolate Chip Cookies
4) The Carrot Cake
I have never tried anything here that I didn't OMG over. I have eaten stuff here that I would never have eaten before and really loved it. Everything is extremely fresh, a quality you can taste in the food at first bite, or first sniff really. I am pretty sure they buy local produce and everything is made that day. I encourage you all to branch out and order something you probably wouldn't and order it how it comes. I typically don't care for bleu cheese, but it really brings out the flavor in the Raspberry Salad. I can't stand onions, but they compliment the Turkey sandwich quite nicely. Every meal is served with fresh warm bread and their wonderful oil and vinegar dip. Also, the bread with the goat cheese and tomatoes is a fan favorite with Mom and Tyler. No matter what you order here, you will be very very happy that you made a trip to the French Pantry. There is very little that will drag me out of bed in the morning before 10, but one mention of this and I could be up with the roosters.
2) Ruth's Chris- My Nanny and Papa go here once in a blue moon, but I hadn't been until this weekend with my mom, brother and stepdad. Everything is super fancy pants and ooh la la as soon as you walk in the door. Everything on the menu is a la carte so it is kind of expensive. But when ordering sides, keep in mind the sides are served family style and are meant for sharing. Besides, it is the entree that is really the main event. My filet was one of the best I have ever had. It was melt in your mouth tender and simply delish! I browsed through the menu and was baffled by some of the stuff I saw. I couldn't pronounce some of it, but when there is a bottle of wine that cost 529 dollars, I guess that is to be expected. Like seriously, I better pee a golden puddle of excellence for a drink that costs half of a grand. I did, however, indulge in a blackberry sidecar. All my 21 and up readers, if you ever go to a Ruth Chris (or I suppose other places have them as well) order a blackberry sidecar. It is an exquisite cognac cocktail with my favorite berry, plum bitters, something else, all encircled by a sugar rim. Best 12 dollar drink I ever had. All in all it was a total experience all well worth the money that I didn't have to pay (thankfully might I add).
3) Nippers- So this is where we celebrated Destiny's big 21st at. It is a little beach cabana restaurant right off the highway heading towards Jacksonville beach. Nippers sits right on a cute little marina with huge yachts that I like to picture myself topless on the front deck of while my sexy (and imaginary) captain boyfriend feeds me grapes out of his hand, all while eating my favorite strawberry salad. I actually sit there and just drool over the boats. Did I mention how much in love I am with boats? And possibly men who can work them? Yep. Hot. Besides the sexy boats, there is an outside deck that usually hosts a band for live music, which I am decidedly a fan of. Between the great food, inexpensive drinks, and daydreaming points, it is a must eat at place while on the way home from the beach.
So was this an eat, eat, eat weekend? Nah, it was an eating with the people I love, praying thanks to the good Lord upstairs for being able to sit down for a hearty meal, and loving every minute of it.
This past weekend I was in my hometown. I delighted with the warm welcome of all of my friends and family wanting to spend time with me. Sometimes the love is overwhelming but as aunt Heather put it, "At least people give a shit about you."
As you may know by now, my family is not together in a marriage sense. My mom and dad separated when I was younger and mom lives out in Jacksonville while dad is in Glen. The traveling back and forth in between their houses and trying to divide equal time with everyone can be exhausting. I always feel really bad if someone gets left out, but I suppose they realize that I am just one person. Nobody has disowned me yet so I am probably doing a good job with this balancing act.
This "weekend" for me (it really wasn't a weekend but any days off from work are considered my weekend), I had the distinct pleasure of indulging in an all out eat, pray, love experience in Jacksonville. Except for the fact that it was just eat, eat, eat, with a little prayer on the side. Seriously, everyone in my family wanted to take my brother Tyler and I out for a meal. After three weeks of cooking for myself and countless Jimmy John's runs, my appetite for something non-college cuisine-ish refused to let me even consider turning down an option.
I love to eat at different places. Although I have my favorites that I return to time and time again, I am an adventurous in finding new places to dine. If there is one thing I know in the world, it is a good place to get a great bite. With that said, each time I have a meal somewhere new or just have a particular dish at an eating establishment that totally blows my socks off, I am going to write a review of it on this blog! I am no food expert from Hell's Kitchen or Master Chef but I know what tastes good and you might find something on here you want to try for yourself.
Here is a recap of the places I went this weekend:
1) The French Pantry: Located off Powers Street in Jacksonville, this quaint little hole in the wall is exquisitely delicious. When I say hole in the wall, I mean it almost literally. If you aren't looking for the green roof with the white printed name, you will miss it. I've been there several times now and still somehow manage to skip over it while driving. The restaurant is only open on weekdays from 11 to 2 pm. When my brother first told me about this place, I couldn't fathom how they made enough money to stay afloat with those hours in this economy. A little drive by the French Pantry on any given weekday around 10:30 let me know they were doing just fine. A long line wrapped around the front of the building will have already formed by about 35 minutes until opening. I recommend arriving good and hungry around 10:30 at the very latest. You will be glad you did.
Once inside, the restaurant is a combination of cute mismatched tables and chairs with two all glass dessert displays on the register wall and the back wall. We will get to what treasure lies behind the glass in a moment. The walls are decorated with old picture frames and tin canisters and other rustic looking antiques. There are a few people who run the restaurant. There is sweet lady who always works the register. I think she owns the place. A few other quiet, hardworking ladies and one or two men are all that it takes to make The French Pantry what it is. It is always the same people working, and they are so welcoming and accommodating. The moment you walk in your senses will be sent into a tantalizing dance of the aromas of warm fresh baked bread, cheese, and brewing coffee and tea. There are two large menu boards with chalk writing to allow the guests to decide what they want as they wait in line. You order at the cash register rather than the table.
As you approach the registers, be prepared to have a complete food-gasm. What lies behind the glass of those dessert displays can only be described as several slices of heaven. Oh my goodness at the cakes and tarts and macaroons, the eclairs and pastries and fresh chocolate croissants, and the boxes of all sorts of cookies just waiting to be devoured. I have never seen such desserts in my entire life. It looks like something out of a magazine set up by professionals, except this is anything but posing and lighting. The hardest part about the meal? Deciding which one of these babies you will be inhaling later on.
My personal recommendations for a meal at the French Pantry are:
1) The Chicken, Artichoke and Goat Cheese Bruschetta
2) The Raspberry Salad
3) The Turkey, Pesto, and Goat Cheese Sandwich
(Literally, every single thing I have tried here is absolutely fantastic, so I could go on and on).
And for dessert!:
1) The Wedding Cake
2) The Farmer's Cheese Tart (seriously, yum)
3) The Chocolate Chip Cookies
4) The Carrot Cake
I have never tried anything here that I didn't OMG over. I have eaten stuff here that I would never have eaten before and really loved it. Everything is extremely fresh, a quality you can taste in the food at first bite, or first sniff really. I am pretty sure they buy local produce and everything is made that day. I encourage you all to branch out and order something you probably wouldn't and order it how it comes. I typically don't care for bleu cheese, but it really brings out the flavor in the Raspberry Salad. I can't stand onions, but they compliment the Turkey sandwich quite nicely. Every meal is served with fresh warm bread and their wonderful oil and vinegar dip. Also, the bread with the goat cheese and tomatoes is a fan favorite with Mom and Tyler. No matter what you order here, you will be very very happy that you made a trip to the French Pantry. There is very little that will drag me out of bed in the morning before 10, but one mention of this and I could be up with the roosters.
2) Ruth's Chris- My Nanny and Papa go here once in a blue moon, but I hadn't been until this weekend with my mom, brother and stepdad. Everything is super fancy pants and ooh la la as soon as you walk in the door. Everything on the menu is a la carte so it is kind of expensive. But when ordering sides, keep in mind the sides are served family style and are meant for sharing. Besides, it is the entree that is really the main event. My filet was one of the best I have ever had. It was melt in your mouth tender and simply delish! I browsed through the menu and was baffled by some of the stuff I saw. I couldn't pronounce some of it, but when there is a bottle of wine that cost 529 dollars, I guess that is to be expected. Like seriously, I better pee a golden puddle of excellence for a drink that costs half of a grand. I did, however, indulge in a blackberry sidecar. All my 21 and up readers, if you ever go to a Ruth Chris (or I suppose other places have them as well) order a blackberry sidecar. It is an exquisite cognac cocktail with my favorite berry, plum bitters, something else, all encircled by a sugar rim. Best 12 dollar drink I ever had. All in all it was a total experience all well worth the money that I didn't have to pay (thankfully might I add).
3) Nippers- So this is where we celebrated Destiny's big 21st at. It is a little beach cabana restaurant right off the highway heading towards Jacksonville beach. Nippers sits right on a cute little marina with huge yachts that I like to picture myself topless on the front deck of while my sexy (and imaginary) captain boyfriend feeds me grapes out of his hand, all while eating my favorite strawberry salad. I actually sit there and just drool over the boats. Did I mention how much in love I am with boats? And possibly men who can work them? Yep. Hot. Besides the sexy boats, there is an outside deck that usually hosts a band for live music, which I am decidedly a fan of. Between the great food, inexpensive drinks, and daydreaming points, it is a must eat at place while on the way home from the beach.
So was this an eat, eat, eat weekend? Nah, it was an eating with the people I love, praying thanks to the good Lord upstairs for being able to sit down for a hearty meal, and loving every minute of it.
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