Three Weeks to Thirty!

The title is pretty self explanatory.  Three weeks from today I will say farewell to my 20s forever.  I plan on doing this with grace.

Growing up, I was always the youngest of my friends so that being said, I’ve seen many of them hit this mark earlier in the year or last year and so far, none of them have had a nervous breakdown, that I’m aware of.

I’ve always heard that “your 30s will be the best years of your life” and seeing that the last half of my 20s were, without argue, the best years of my life so far, I can’t imagine what the next decade will be like!  If I have one single fear related to this upcoming birthday, it’s that I’m terrified it will be too good!  Is that possible?

I’m coming to terms with the fact that I will no longer be able to check “24-29” on certain questionnaires, nor am I exactly where I wanted to be by this point.

We all have dreams as young ones and with the huge imagination I had as a child, I was definitely no exception.  If you asked me 20 years ago where I would be by now, this is just a glimpse of the things I would have accomplished:

  • 4 years ago I would have graduated from Vet school and would have started my own practice
  • 5 years ago I would have been married
  • 2 years ago (despite my distaste in children) I would have given birth to my first and only child, however, the likelihood of twins is very high in my family and it was always considered a huge possibility….nevertheless, it didn’t matter how many I had at once, I was only going through it ONCE
  • 4 years ago, my husband and I would have purchased a beautiful ranch house on thousands of acres where we raised horses and cattle(but never sent them to slaughter)
  • 8 years ago I would have purchased a huge plot of land somewhere and started a wildlife conservation center
  • 3 years ago, after getting my Veterinary practice up and running, I would have handed over the majority of the control to my partner so that I would be able to go back to school and continue my studies in marine biology, at this point, I would have been traveling the world’s oceans, catching, tagging, and tracking sharks
  • In the next upcoming months, I would have expanded my wildlife rehab/conservation center to include part of the gulf, where I could rehabilitate marine mammals and sharks
  • 8 years ago, I would have joined the college basketball team and continued to play throughout my entire undergrad career.  Upon graduation, I would go pro, which would help fund my Doctorate as well as the wildlife center and the big ranch house
  • 2 years from now, I would have retired from playing professional ball and devote dmy time to my work and family

I guess it’s safe to say that pretty much none of this has occurred however, I can’t be upset with myself, I have a little to show for my 30 years on this planet, just in the last decade I:

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  • Became a home owner
  • Proved to myself that people really can change
  • Got my first dog (My Piper!)
  • Got my first horse
  • Raised my first foal
  • Raised a puppy on my own (not sure how successfully!)
  • Bought my first brand new car
  • Taught myself how to cook
  • went back to school
  • learned to love myself
  • learned to control my emotions and be the person I want to be
  • learned to let my guard down, forget scars from the past, and allow someone to reach my heart, because of that I met the most amazing man who truly makes me feel like I’m special

Yeah, so, I’m not exactly where I was supposed to be by this point in my life but who cares?  Looking at these two lists side by side, I’m pretty sure I would choose the second one and do it all over again!

So, for the next three weeks, I’m going to enjoy what life has given me so far and continue to look forward to what it has to offer.  Farewell 20s, come on 30!


When Will I Learn?

I feel the need to be slightly serious today so I want to go ahead and apologize for that now!


It’s been a weird, kinda rough couple weeks for me around the home front however before I get on a my soap box, I should make it clear that there are a few people in my life who have been a tremendous and over flowing source of support.  These people know who they are and I’m truly thankful to them for being there for me.  Now, on to the gripey part!


I would be surprised if anyone who knows me would describe me as anything besides the following:


  • Mild Mannered
  • Even Tempered
  • Not Easily Provoked
  • Thick Skinned
  • Submissive
  • Forgiving
  • Level Headed


To me, most of those sound like fairly desirable qualities, just about anyone would be able to handle stress as well as me or be able to see the good in just about anyone.  At the risk of sounding arrogant, I feel like I’m a pretty likeable and decent person.


I haven’t always been this way though in fact, up until about five years ago, I possessed several less desirable qualities.  Honestly, I just hadn’t grown up yet, I was always very good at making people believe that I was mature for my age but the truth is; there was still an adolescent, rebellious, child trapped inside me, waiting for the best opportunity to lash out.


Without going too deeply into details I was a somewhat careless, uncaring, suspicious, and hateful person on the inside well into my mid 20s- I found myself compulsively lying, stealing money from my mother, not taking responsibility for my actions, all while effectively playing the role of the victim.  I’m sure a psychology major could attribute it to certain parts of my childhood, I didn’t have a horrible childhood but I did encounter a decently higher number of hostile situations than the equivalent peers of my time.  I was (and still am) just very good at putting on a brave face.


I’m not proud of who I was in this dark time in my life, in fact, I wish I could just erase most of my life starting around the age of 17 and starting back over around 25.


I don’t know why this occurred, I don’t know exactly when it was, but I can remember the details of the moment.  I know where I was, I know what I was doing leading up to the event, I know what was on the TV at the time.  I remember closing my eyes and thinking to myself “I have to grow up” and when I opened my eyes, I truly felt like a new person.  I know to some of you this may sound a little “Hollywood-ish” and honestly, I can’t blame you for your opinion.


Anyways, where am I going with this?


I made a couple of major changes in my life and attitude that day.  The old me was a very sensitive person.  She would drop down on her knees and start crying like a damn fool if you so much as looked at her funny.  The new/current me has grown a very thick skin over the years and it takes quite a bit more to shake me so much that you bring tears to my eyes.  People, who know the current me, with the exception of a select few, have never seen me cry.  That will probably never change.  It’s just who I am, I don’t get upset and honestly, I’ve learned to love this side of me, though I know it has major downfalls.  People tend to view me as emotionless and cold, they think I have no feelings and can not experience things like sadness and disappointment, they also wrongly assume that I am hateful and not capable of empathy.  I wouldn’t say that describes me very well, I experience emotions just like anyone else; I’ve just learned to cover them up.


There is another major change that I made in my life that day, perhaps more of a vow than a change.  As I sat there, reflecting back on who I had become and what events in my life had gotten me to that spot, I promised myself that I would NEVER find myself in a position anywhere close to where I previously had been.


I can’t say that I regret this promise in fact, for the most part, I’m proud of myself for sticking with it this long.  However, the problem that comes along with this vow is that I am so committed to myself that I will not allow for faults or weaknesses of any shape or form, even if those exceptions are actually beneficial.  In short, I’m FAR too hard on myself.


I have learned to be very forgiving of people and their tendency to be imperfect.  I’ve accepted that we are all human and mistakes were created to be made.


As long as I’m not the one making the mistakes.


Mistakes made on my part are considered unforgiveable in my head.  I can not grasp my mind around the fact that I’m human just like everyone else and I have to allow for a certain degree of errors.  My brain and loyalty to myself just simply will not allow it and because of this, I often become somewhat detrimental to myself.


I realize and recognize that I have to allow myself to make mistakes for, without them, what will I learn?  It’s just been a very long road and I have to find that healthy balance.

All Dogs go to Heaven….Unless, Of Course, They’re Winston

What’s up?  It’s been a hot minute (one month and 5 days to be exact!)  It’s been a pretty crazy month or so, so much stuff going on.

I’ll be brief in my re-cap:

Fireworks:  For as long as I can remember, my family has run a fireworks stand come every Fourth of July and again for New Years Eve.  In fact, this past season marked 26 years meaning they started this whole adventure when I was only three years old.  So it’s pretty much been a part of me my entire life.  I know a completely different world of fireworks from most people.  For the most part, it’s fun, I have a boundless supply of explosives at my disposal pretty much all year and, considering I’m a bit of a pyro-maniac, that’s pretty cool.

It’s also a bit of a nuisance.  For two to three weeks a year I pretty much have no life whatsoever.  First of all, the stand sits in my father’s front yard because at the time that we started my parents were still married and it made so much more sense to put the stand in an easily accessible place.  Understandable however, I now live over 300 miles away from my father’s house.  I’ve learned to spend my summers in a cramped motel room with my mother for two weeks.

Now if you know anything about me at all, you know that I’m not much of a people person.  I would much rather choose the life of a hermit than an out going, social butterfly.  And though it IS my mother, someone I know and am comfortable with, at the same time, it is my MOTHER and, God knows I love her dearly but, she drives me INSANE.  And it’s not even the fact that it’s my mother, it could be anyone, if I have to spend more than 12 hours straight with any single person, I’m  pretty likely to go all Mount Vesuvius on that person before it’s over with!

To make things better, the day before we left I stepped off the porch steps, just as I have done every day of my life, and for whatever reason my ankle decided that it just didn’t want to work at the moment and down I went.  It’s been almost a month and the darn thing is still swollen but luckily I was able to walk on it pretty soon…that would have been a disaster had I not been able to go to fireworks this year!

The Wonderful World of New Mexico:  Four days after getting home from fireworks, the boy and I took a four day trip to New Mexico.

It doesn’t get much prettier than that folks!
Okay…maybe it does

I’ve been before but I was very young and quite honestly, I learned quickly that the state was nothing like I had portrayed it to be in my memory.  I remember it being much like west Texas, dry, dirty, ugly, not much to look at and don’t get me wrong; part of the state IS that way.  But the first night we drove into Ruidoso and I was instantly in love.  I seriously wish I had the money to just pack up and move there right this very moment.  It’s such a charming little town and of course staying in a log cabin way up in the mountains definitely has its appeal.  One of my absolute favorite parts of the trip was waking up in the morning, taking the trash out and looking up to see a giant bull elk standing about thirty yards away without a care in the world.

Something else I learned about this quaint little town is that it still lives by the old rules of yesteryear.  Pretty much everything, including convenience stores and Walgreens which we take for granted to be open 24/7, closes around 9pm.  We went to eat at an amazing little Italian restaurant and when we asked what time they closed the waitress just shrugged her shoulders and said “I think we are going to try to close about 8:30 tonight”

What?  You don’t have a set time to close?  You just close when you feel like it?  My how wonderful to live and work in such a carefree atmosphere.

The second day found us winding through the mountains of Cloudcroft; an even more relaxed and beautiful little town.  We eventually came back the next day and hiked up one of the mountains, something I’ve never done but always wanted to do.  We eventually moved down to the Alamogordo area where we visited White Sands, which I have to admit was WAY cooler than I had ever expected.

I came, I saw, I conquered

We finished the trip up with a visit to Carlsbad where we went to the Living Desert Museum and Zoo and of course a visit to the caverns.

I was so very thankful for a bit of a break from reality.  For four entire days I never once thought about bills or stressful work situations.  It was the most amazing four days I’ve had in a long time!

I’ll miss you New Mexico!

Back home….


I guess all good things have to come to an end eventually.  I’m starting to get back into the normal routine of things.  By now I guess you’re probably wondering what in the world the title of this post has to do with anything that I’ve said.

I’ve mentioned my dear, sweet, lovable Olde English Bulldogge Winston, on a couple occasions in the past.  For quite sometime, Winston has been a very popular subject of entertainment amongst my friends and Facebook followers.  If you’ve ever read or watched “Marley and Me” you will understand what I mean when I say that Winston is an “Extreme Marley”, in fact, he pretty much makes Marley look like the best, most well behaved dog ever to walk yet, for some reason, I continue to love this dog.

I was really putting this off, more for the reason that I hoped he would eventually grow out of it but seeing as he will be two in September and hasn’t changed much at all, I figure I might as well begin documenting his lovely, spunky, careless, clumsy behavior.  So I’ve decided to create a blog for Winston.

Go check it out;(I haven’t made it pretty yet, I’ll work on it thought!) I think the first blog entry will make it pretty obvious where I got the idea for the title of this post and blog!

Texas Born and Bred

This came across to me in an email earlier.  I normally ignore these things but I thought I would share, along with my commentary!


Only a true Texan knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit and that you don’t “have” them, but “pitch” them.

In my opinion, a conniption fit is much worse but be warned, if you hear anyone saying they are pitching either one, star far, far away!

A true Texan can show or point out the general direction of “yonder.”

Words/phrases related to “yonder” include: around the corner, over there, up the way a bit, up the road, and down there

Nobody but a true Texan knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas, beans, etc. make up a “mess.”

For anyone interested, it’s tradition to make about ten times as much as needed.  If you have 5 people over to eat, you cook enough for 50 and everyone takes a plate home
True Texans know instinctively that the best gesture of solace for a neighbor who’s got trouble is a plate of hot fried chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad. (If the trouble is a real crisis, they also know to add a large banana puddin’.)

Nothing says “sorry”  or “I’m there for you” like fried comfort food!

True Texans know that “fixin” can be as a noun, verb, and adverb

I use the word “fixinna” (fixing to) a lot!  It’s probably my favorite word ever!  For the rest of you, “fixing to” is equivalent to “about to” but soooo much more fun to say!

True Texans know that there are two types of food. Spicy and Spici-er.

Make mine spici-er please!

True Texans know from experience that rattlesnake meat tastes like chicken.

More like rubber chicken.  Yes, I’ve had it and yes, it tastes like chicken.

True Texans know exactly how and where armadillos sleep: in the middle of the road with their feet in the air.

Those darn critters sleep a lot!

Say the word “dinner” to a true Texan and they will look at you like you’ve grown another head.  There’s only lunch and then there’s supper.

To this day I still have no idea what dinner refers to.  Maybe someone can enlighten me.  Is it the meal you eat at noon or in the evening?

“Jeeet?” is an entire phrase.  Translation: “Did you eat?”

Texans are very concerned about their fellow neighbor, if you go somewhere where there is food involved, please, please, please eat it no matter if you’re hungry or not.  We get very upset and offended if anyone leaves with an empty stomach.  Another form is “Joo” as in “Did you…”  example “Joo go to the store yet?”

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True Texans live by the creed.  “If you don’t like the weather in Texas, just wait a minute.”  A true Texan has had to switch from heat to A/C more than once in the course of a day.

It’s amazing how true this is.  I’ve seen it where it will be raining on one side of the street and completely clear on the other side.

Ask a true Texan to list the names of the seasons:  Almost summer, summer, still summer, and Christmas.

It’s hot here y’all!

True Texans know that a carbonated soft drink isn’t a soda, cola, or pop; it’s a Coke regardless of the brand or flavor.

I’ll never forget a story a friend of mine told me.  She moved to Texas from Boston.  The first time she went to a fast food place and asked for a Coke the cashier asked her what kind.  She was shocked that she had gone all of her life and didn’t know there was more than one flavor of Coke.

No one in Texas would dream of putting vinyl upholstery in a car or not having air conditioning.

I left this one here for a “pity me” moment.  The A/C in my car is currently out!  It’s horrible, I hate it!

True Texans know that asphalt has a liquid state.

And it’s a pain in the patootie to get off the car!

True Texan mosquitoes have landing lights

Seriously, those things could probably pick up and carry off a doberman.

A Texan’s beloved family pet is the stray dog with one leg that came limping up to his front door years ago.

My parents actually have a three legged dog that strayed up about a year ago.  He was completely hairless too.  He’s become a very loved and welcome member of the family.

Happy Birth-a-death-a-versary?

I’m super busy today at work so I had to come up with something pretty short and rather un-creative.  I still think it’s pretty interesting though.  Enjoy!


Apparently April 30 has historically been a pretty exciting day!


For starters, my best friend that I’ve known since I was 5 years old turns 30 today.  I want to wish her a very happy birthday, even though today is a stark reminder that 4 months from now I will be facing the same fate.  Thankfully, I’ve never been one to get caught up on age so hopefully I will be okay, we shall see in August how well I’m holding up!


It also seems that today was the fateful day that, in 1945, Adolf Hitler along with wife Eva Braun locked themselves away in a bunker and took their own lives.


Wow, that’s a little too solemn of a way to start a Monday now isn’t it?  Well no worries because seven years later on April 30, 1952 something extraordinary and super cool happened!  The world was introduced to what could possibly be the coolest tuber ever, Mr. Potato Head.


photo credit:

The cool spud had actually been around for a few years and even got his start back when our friend Hitler was still alive but Mr. Head’s claim to fame on this day is that he was the first toy ever to be introduced in a TV commercial.  One year later he had a friend who has lovingly become known as Mrs. Potato Head.


I love stories about old toys; it brings me back to my younger years.  Being an only child, toys and imagination were two very important things to possess.  I remember playing in the back yard or my bedroom for hours.  Honestly, looking back on my childhood, I have to think that my parents were pretty darn lucky.  I pretty much kept myself holed up in my room or in the back yard for hours on end and rarely was I the “I’m bored’ child.


Here are the toys I remember having growing up:


  • Barbies
  • My Little Pony
  • Rainbow Brite
  • Strawberry Shortcake
  • Breyer Horses
  • Glo Worm
  • Care Bears
  • Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head
  • Cabbage Patch Dolls
  • My Buddy/ Kid Sister
  • Teddy Ruxpin and Grubby
  • Popples
  • Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
  • Heman
  • Skeletor
  • GI Joe
  • Transformers
  • Hot Wheels
  • Micro Machines
  • Legos


I'm pretty sure I had every one of these!
Photo Credit:

What are some of your favorite childhood toys?  I know I’m forgetting some and hopefully some of you can jog my memory.


If you have kids, did you pass some of your toys down to them?

I Finally Got my Trail Ride


Warning!  Warning!  The following blog is not funny, sarcastic, or silly in any form or fashion (I don’t think).  I just wanted to talk about my super cool weekend.  No gas station shenanigans occurred, no one tried to force bone-in chicken down my throat, and most importantly, the evil world dominating earthworms have not surfaced and started their diabolical plan.


Okay, just wanted to get that out of the way for those of you who come here for comic relief!  Sorry guys, if you want that, go to someone else’s blog today(I promise the next blog will be funny), at least I warned you!  If you want to hear about my super cool, totally awesome weekend with my horse children, then read on!




I’ve had Cheyenne for almost three years now and this past weekend was the first time that I’ve actually taken her somewhere away from the house and done something fun with her.


There has always been an excuse of some sort or another.  When I first got her, we didn’t have a trailer, then we got a trailer only for her to decide a few months later that she was ready to (unexpectedly) pop out a baby.  By the time the colt was old enough to be left alone, we had sold the trailer and were in the process of finding one.  Then we got another trailer and my step dad wrecked his truck and something tells me my little 4-cylinder hatchback wouldn’t pull 2000 pounds of horse flesh!


It really was one thing after another.


A few weeks ago, my step dad started acting like he was interested in the horses again and decided that we would try to load the horses up and start taking them on trail rides, my absolute favorite thing to do with the horses!


Wouldn’t you know it, once he finally came around; we had one of our lovely Texas week-long rain storms.  I know we need the rain, and quite honestly, I would be fine with it raining non-stop except for one small problem – mud.


Finally, last weekend, everything was a “go”.  That is, until we went to load the horses.


The other horse, Tip, has always been a pro at loading; he will hop into just about any trailer you put in front of him, same with Cheyenne.  So what happened last weekend was the least of my worries.


We loaded Tip, no problems at all but when it was my girl’s turn, she completely spazzed out and was bound and determined that she was NOT getting in the trailer.  We fought back and forth for six hours and finally convinced her to get in.  By then, it was just too late to go anywhere.  I’m pretty sure she knew what was up and just waited long enough to turn a delay into a cancellation.  Little snot!


Anyways, we had something else with the church that we were going to take the horses to on Wednesday night which we thought was going to work out great because I had come over every day prior to work on loading and she had practically jumped in the trailer like it was the coolest thing she had ever done.  I was excited as Wednesday rolled around…until the rain came.


Needless to say, Wednesday didn’t happen so I was forced to wait it out again until the weekend.


Saturday morning rolled around and I was determined that we were hitting the trail.  I came over super early to load, thinking that we were going to have a repeat of the previous weekend.  I grabbed Cheyenne, walked her to the trailer, opened it up and she almost knocked me over trying to get in!  I was elated; it finally was going to happen!


We drove to Lake Whitney, which is about an hour and half drive from where I live.  By the time we got there the horses were ready to be out of the trailer.  The weather was absolutely perfect, good temperature, plenty of sunshine, and just a gentle breeze.


We ended up riding for nearly 4 hours.  Poor horses probably felt as though we had cut their throats.  It did some good to sweat them out though.  And even though they were being asked to do more work than they had in a long time, both of them behaved absolutely perfectly.  I was so proud of my girl.


I’ve been on trail rides before but I never knew how much more fun it would with my own horse.  I’ve always been appreciative for those how have loaned me horses for rides but I can honestly say now, I don’t think I could ever enjoy another trail ride nearly as much now that I know how my girl handles the course.


I just love that girl to pieces.  She’s one of those “Once in a lifetime” horses.  Just being around her makes me feel better.   Anytime I have a bad day, I just grab her out of the pasture and hug her neck or lead her around and she reminds me exactly why it is that I sacrifice the things I do to take care of her.  I can’t imagine my life without her.


I thought I would post some pictures from our ride this weekend.  We really did have a great time and if all works out we are going again on Saturday.  I can’t wait!


She's just happy to be out of the trailer at this point. I know our trailer is ugly, we just bought this one and haven't had a chance to paint it or anything. It's a great little trailer structurally, just not all that pretty!


Saddled and ready to hit the trail!


This is an absolutely beautiful ride.


I love this picture. We saw several cattle along the way and even though she's never seen one, at least in the 3 years I've had her, she never once acted like an idiot around them.
Again, just a beautiful place to ride. I really wish I had a better camera, these pics just do it no justice.


We came across this very protective mama cow and her insanely cute baby. Almost makes me want to get a cow!....but only almost.


I was trying to be creative with this shot but she chose this very moment to ruin it by putting her ears back. Little Snot!

I think you’ll see by the next three pics that I was pretty successful at sweating her out.  It was good for her though!


Dried her out and finally got some of that horrible winter coat off. Poor thing, I think that's why she was sweating so bad. She's still got a lot to lose and if I had some clippers I would probably just go ahead and sheer it all off. Oh well, daily brushing will get her there eventually!


Hi, My Name is Sam and, Quite Frankly, I’m a Nutcase (Part Two)

In continuation of yesterday’s post, these habits are not food related but equally as disturbing.



Sticky yicky


This problem is such an issue for me, I actually got sick looking up pictures to add Credit:

Gum or anything resembling gum makes my physically nauseous.  I can’t stand chewing the stuff and even worse, I can’t stand to see the stuff after it’s been chewed.


I have no idea where this affinity came from, my mom was a huge gum chewer when I was growing up and I even chewed it myself.   At some point in my life I just woke up one morning and decided it was gross.  I’m telling you all right now that if we ever go anywhere and you take your gum out of your mouth and place it on the lid of your cup or on your plate, do not be surprised if you have a little extra flavor added to your dinner because there WILL be vomit involved.






Sdrawkcab (backwards)


Well that's not right! Credit:

I will always pick up a magazine and read it from the last page to the first.   A lot of times when I am proofreading something I will start with the last paragraph and work my way up.  This is actually a trick that a professor taught me in college.  It’s actually easier to spot mistakes if you read things in reverse because the way our brains work, we “predict” the rest of a sentence when we are reading something normally because we see a sentence as a picture and can process all the information at once.  If you read something in reverse it’s not quite as easy to do that and you are much more likely to catch mistakes, try it sometime, you never know what you might discover!






I dub thee “Sir Frank”



I name eveything.  Every single car I’ve ever owned has had a name and to this day, I can still name each of them.  Don’t believe me? Well here you go:


  1. 1994 White Chevrolet Camaro “Snow” (I had this one before I turned 16 and it blew up the first time we took it out, I’ve had a slight hatred for Chevrolet ever since)
  2. 1994 Green Ford Tempo “Baby”
  3. 1997 Tan Ford Escort “Trigger”
  4. 2000 Blue Ford Mustang “Thunder” (technically my mom’s car as she traded her mini van in for it but she later gave it to me)
  5. 2002 Blue Ford Escort ZX2 “Ice”
  6. 1994 White Mazda Protégé “Minxi” (Best car I ever had!)
  7. 2005 White KIA Spectra “Cupid” (because I bought it on Valentines Day, alternatively the WORST car I’ve ever had)
  8. 2007 Red Suzuki Reno “Suzie” (for Suzie Suzuki, this is my current car, you know, the one with the bad windshield wiper)


I can’t stand that my boyfriend refuses to name his cars.  Therefore I’ve taken the liberty of naming them for him however, due to the fact that I don’t want to completely offend him, I’ve been as un-creative as possible. I’ve given them extremely simple names, his white car is “Whitey” and the black car is “Blackie”.  I don’t think he has accepted that these are their names and just ignores me when I say it because it’s just not worth it to argue with me, I will refer to them as Whitey and Blackie no matter how much he argues.


Anyways, the naming thing goes well beyond cars.  I am a stuffed animal fanatic mainly because of another obsession I have (I’m addicted to claw machines).  Each of them has a name and for the most part, I can tell you all of the names pretty quickly.


I also give people nicknames.  For whatever reason, I have trouble sometimes calling people by their real name.  I have no clue why this is.  I called my mother “Sparky” for a good year and a half; I have no clue where it came from and why I grew a sudden repulsion to simply calling her “mom”. I even have weird names for people in my phone.  When my mom is calling, my caller ID tells me that “The Mothership” is calling and when my boyfriend calls it’s “The Boy”.






Shoes?  Who needs ‘Em?


Bare feet are happy feet! Credit:

If I could have it my way, I would never wear shoes of any kind.  In fact, I don’t even want socks.  I could easily go barefoot for the rest of my life and never think twice about it.  I get this from my father.  He used to go everywhere barefoot, so much so that his feet grew such thick calluses that he could walk through a briar patch and never feel anything.


I try not to go to this extreme since I am a girl, though admittedly, not a “girly” girl.  I usually reserve my bare footedness to just around the house and at the office, basically anywhere that is carpeted.  I also try to respect the people I’m with.  I would be more than happy to tear my socks and shoes off my feet in the middle of Olive Garden but I understand that most people might view this as unsanitary (I don’t know why, I regularly walk through a pasture of horse poo, they would probably rather me take my shoes off) so I try to respect that and keep my tootsies covered.






I’ll just keep my dry skin…thanks!


One thing I promise you'll never see me do Credit:

When I was little, I was absolutely a “tom boy”.  I played with Ninja Turtles, GI Joe, and Legos and I loved playing outside.  I would, however, become insanely upset if my hands got dirty or even worse, sticky.


I’m not as bad about it anymore but I can not stand to use lotion for this reason.  I hate the way it feels on my hands.  It’s greasy and no matter how much you wipe your hands, the residue just doesn’t seem to go away.  It’s quite tragic actually because I have really dry skin on my legs and lotion feels good to them, I just don’t do it nearly as much as I should and will only use it if I have a rag or something that I can apply the lotion to first.  Otherwise, I have just learned to deal with dry skin.






Have your people call my people and I’ll text you back….maybe


So glad we don't have these anymore! Credit:

You will never, ever, ever hear me claim to be a good communicator or to have good social skills because I’m just not good at those things and I refuse to trick myself into believing it.  It may be hard to believe from the length of my posts but I’m a pretty quiet, shy person and I rarely have much to say.  I think that’ why I took to writing so easily.  It’s not that I don’t have an opinion or lack of will to express myself; I just choose to do those things a little quieter.


In grade school, my teachers actually convinced my parents to have me tested because I just wouldn’t talk.  They thought there was something wrong with me mentally that was blocking me from having language skills.  It bothered me that they thought I was off in the head; I knew it had nothing to do with my mental abilities and more with my lack of social desire.  I’ve never been a talker and I honestly see nothing wrong with that, I think the world might be a little better if some people did less talking and more listening.


Anyways, my lack of desire to talk leads into issues with communication.  Namely, I do NOT like to talk on the phone.  I will text all day long but something about the actual action of speaking to someone on the phone for more than about 2 minutes just drives me up a wall.


Honestly, this little quirk of mine doesn’t bother me, what does bother me is other people’s inability to understand this.  People tend to take it personally that I will not call them or I often ignore phone calls only to return it later with a text message.  I understand that this makes me seem impersonal and it may be aggravating to some people but I’m just not going to change.  I hope that those I know can learn to respect that part of me and try to understand that this is who I am.


Additionally, I will not check voicemail.  I really don’t know why this is.  I’ve even gone to the extent to download a voicemail forwarding app on my phone.  I love this app because it sends voicemail directly to a third party and I never even get notification that I have a message.  I know this might be an issue if there is ever an emergency but I guess it’s one of those things that I will just have to deal with when that day comes.  Oh, and don’t ever try to call me from an unknown number and expect me to answer, it ain’t happening!


I guess that’s really all I can think of for now, I know more will come up later but until then…Please don’t leave and start calling me a psycho!

Hi, My Name is Sam, and Quite Frankly, I’m a Nutcase (Part One)

I looked at the word count for this and it seems I got a little carried away.  For that reason I’ve decided to break this up into more than one post.  I’m not exactly sure how many there will be, at least two but I know once tomorrow rolls around I will think of something else that I forgot that I just have to tell you all about.  Nothing like airing out your dirty laundry! 


I’ve decided to make this first post all about my eating habits, which are probably the most quirky things about me.  Tomorrow we will touch on the non-food related crazy things that I do!







It rained all night last night and into this morning, in fact I walked out a few minutes ago and it was still coming down.  I normally love a good rain shower, there’s nothing quite like sitting on your front porch listening to the rain.  It really is quite calming…until you have to drive to work in it.


I don’t know if it’s the rain or the fact that I was 14 minutes late to work (those of you who are regulars here know that what that really means is I was about 30 minutes late by my standards) but I’m just in a weird funk today.  I’m not really tired or in a bad mood, I just feel off.  So much so that I’m actually drinking coffee, something I just don’t do, unless it has about half a cup of ice in it.


Yes, I said ice.  For whatever reason, I just can’t stomach hot beverages; I’m just quirky that way.  In fact, I’ve wanted to write a blog about my quirkiness for sometime, I’ve started it a couple times but then something else will trump it and it will get put on the back burner.


I would imagine this will be an insanely comical blog to those who know me and have witnessed the weird things I do first hand and I hope those of you who don’t know me on a personal basis won’t get terrified and decide to “un-follow” me.


I originally made this an “Amelia” guest post.  She seemed to be a pretty big hit last time she showed up and believe me, she has a darn good time making fun of me, it’s what she does best.  I hit a writer’s block however, and decided to re-write the whole thing so here it is!




Hot or Cold?


I'll take that coffee with a little less steam please! Credit:

I’ve already told you that I can’t do hot beverages (I do the same thing with hot chocolate by they way) but it’s pretty much an across the board type thing.  What do I mean by this?  Basically, I do everything backwards.


Like most people, my first few years out on my own consisted of a strictly “Ramen Noodle” diet, so much so that I got very burnt out on them and didn’t eat them for years.  I recently started eating them again, just not like most people.  I eat Ramen three different ways:

  • I will cook it according to the package directions for 3 minutes in the microwave, mix my sauce pack and throw some ice in there to cool it off
  • I will make it with cold water and not cook it at all, let it sit for about 10 minutes so the noodles soften a bit and then have at it (this is my favorite way actually)
  • Mix noodles and sauce packet and eat them dry


I just don’t like things that are supposed to be hot to be overly hot.  I’m more of a lukewarm type person.  In fact, if I bring leftovers for lunch, very rarely will I heat them up and if I do, it’s only for a few seconds.



To part or not to part?


Everything has it's place... Credit:

So as if it’s not strange enough that I’m picky about the temperature of my food, probably my strangest habit is the way I eat.


I’m just going to put it out there and be blunt; I’m an extreme section eater.  I have no idea if that’s a real thing or not but I do know that there are people out there that call themselves section eaters.  We are not overly popular but also not as rare as you may think, in fact, I’d be willing to bet that someone reading this knows a section eater.


Section eaters will only eat one thing at a time.  So if you have a plate of steak, corn, and potatoes, they will eat all of their steak at once, then all of the corn, then all of the potatoes as opposed to taking a bite of each here and there.  I have no idea why we do this, and if I had a penny for every time I’ve heard “it all goes to the same place” you would never be graced with my blogs because I would be so wealthy I would be out traveling the world.


The thing is, it doesn’t matter where it all goes, what matters is I don’t want to mix the tastes which, to me, is the more important part of eating.  I’m not nearly as bad as some section eaters though, some people freak out if their food touches, thankfully I can deal with that.


So then, why do I call myself and extreme section eater?  Because I take it to another level.


Pretend that you and I go somewhere for a burger.  Are you pretending?  I don’t see your eyes closed.  Close them!  NOW!  Okay…we are eating our burgers and this is what you will witness going on on my side of the table.


  1. I will eat the entire outside edge of the burger just as a burger is meant to be eaten, all together, but just the outside (imagine just the crust if it were a sandwich)
  2. I will set the burger down, take the top bun and eat it, then eat the bottom bun
  3. I will eat the lettuce, then tomatoes, then pickles
  4. If it is a cheeseburger I will peel the cheese off the meat
  5. Finally, I will eat the meat


I pretty much do this for everything that I eat.  If I eat a salad, I will pick through and eat all of one thing at a time, things that come with some sort of breading will have that outer covering removed, and lasagna is eaten in layers.


Have I run you all off yet?




No bones about it


Do you mind taking those bones out?

If you ever invite me to your house for dinner, let me just save you some trouble right now.  Do NOT, I repeat, do NOT attempt to feed me chicken of any kind unless you have removed all of the bones.  I simply will not eat it.  I have nothing against chicken in fact, I can tear up some chicken strips but there is just something about those tiny little poultry bones that makes my stomach turn.  I assume I would be the same way with other fowl like duck and turkey but I’ve never had duck and I don’t care much for turkey.  Any other meat, I’m fine, I have absolutely no issue gnawing the heck out of some ribs, bone and all.


(To Be Continued)

Well This Went a Totally Different Direction!

I guess you could say that this blog wrote itself because, if I’m honest, I had absolutely no intentions of going this direction at all. I had planned out the first three paragraphs and then wanted to take it somewhere else but that just didn’t happen.  Regardless, I hope you enjoy!


On the backside of yesterday’s blog, my alarm actually woke me up this morning.  I think it’s fair to say that things like this are allowed once in awhile, especially after only two and a half hours of sleep.


I went out for a “girl’s night” last night, something that I don’t really do all that often.  I’m just not the type of person who likes to hang out.  I have to say though; I had an incredibly great time.  We went to a dueling piano bar which I’ve been dying to go to for years but just never have gotten around to it.  I must say, I’m very upset with myself for not going sooner, this had to be one of the funnest (I know, I know, it’s not a word) places I’ve ever been to.


There was one point where I found myself getting jealous or almost feeling guilty.  I’m somewhat musically inclined and the piano actually is the instrument I have to thank for that.


When I was about 7 or 8, my mom asked me if I wanted to learn to play the piano.  I guess she had seen an ad in the paper and thought it would be a great way for me to start learning responsibility.  She signed me up for lessons with an elderly woman, Ms. Grace (I can’t remember if that was her first or last name) and that’s where it all got started.


Learning to read music and play an instrument isn’t always fun work.  You have to be somewhat disciplined and make yourself practice, on top of that, you have actual homework.  I remember spending hours with my head stuffed in music theory books.  I barely knew how to add and subtract at that age but my new hobby required me to understand fractions that related to quarter and half notes.  It was a challenge but I had a good teacher and I did learn a lot however, being young and slightly uninspired, I gave up rather quickly.


I could kick myself for that especially after watching these extremely talented individuals last night.


About a year after giving up on the piano, (not completely, I still played around with the one in our house) I decided that I wanted to try my hand at music again.  My weapon, and I do mean weapon, of choice was the violin.  I won’t talk about this one however because it only lasted a school year, and I’m pretty sure my entire family would have burned the thing had it not cost so much money.


I actually didn’t voluntarily give up on the violin; I just found something that sparked my interest even further.


I started playing flute during my first year of Jr. High and even though my band director tried relentlessly to make me move to something else like a clarinet, I wanted nothing to do with it.  I never could get the correct embouchure (that’s way you shape your mouth for you non-musical folk) for the flute and everyone that ever saw me play said it was impossible to play that way.  I wasn’t having it though, there was something so inspiring about this little instrument, and I just had to give it a shot.


Over the years I actually became a quite accomplished and rather skilled flutist.  I would usually gain the highest honors at the annual solo competitions and twice was invited to join the regional band, made up of the best musicians in the entire county.  I carried my flute with me into high school marching band pairing that with oboe (another woodwind instrument) during the concert season and eventually into college.


The first few years after college were tough for me financially and, without going into details, I rented a storage unit to store some furniture and other things, ultimately losing that unit due to not being able to afford the rent on it anymore.  Among the things in the unit was my flute.


I don’t know why I never went to get the thing before they locked the unit but then again, I don’t know why I did a lot of the things that I did in my early 20s. I always missed the thing and a couple of times I made a trip to the pawn shop to see if they had any used ones I could buy, just for the fun of it.  I never got around to buying a new one.


Awhile back I was looking on and came across the musical instruments.  I randomly came across a few that I liked and ultimately landed on this:

I’ve never seen colored instruments before, never really even thought of making them in different colors other than the traditional brass and sliver finishes but this flute had me mesmerized.  My favorite color has been green for as long as I can remember and it just seemed like this guy was calling my name.  I jokingly posted a picture of it on my Facebook page and really thought nothing else of it.


Until this past Christmas during present opening at my boyfriends house…  I’m really lucky when it comes to the gifty holidays because he always gets me the best gifts.  He really has a great talent for knowing the things I like and incorporating them into cool gifts; it really makes me feel special.


Anyways, as I came to my final present, I opened it, and it was in an box, which wasn’t the least bit surprising because the boy is addicted to that site.  I still didn’t get suspicious of anything until I flipped it over and saw the word “flute”


Did this boy really just buy me a flute?


You have no idea how excited I was at this point, I finally ripped the darn box open and low and behold:


I think this is the best gift anyone has ever given me, just because it means so much more than the actual material instrument itself.  It makes me think of my childhood and all the wonderful friends I made along the way.  It made me think about the high school trips we used to take, the skiing trip, the trip to Disney, the Friday night football games.


It brought me back to my freshman year in college.  I literally knew no one at my school.  I grew up in a college town and then moved after graduating high school.  The majority of my friends stayed and went to the local school.  Once again, my flute brought me friends the first day I walked into that college band hall.


I didn’t really lose much of my musical knowledge while I was flute-less and in fact, I have a keyboard that I play around with from time to time, which kept me pretty well versed in theory and sight reading.  I’ve been able to jump right back in to playing; it’s something to do around the house instead of watching TV.  I still play with my impossible embouchure and still play almost just as well as I could back in my prime.


It’s good sometimes to let the things in your childhood come back into your adult life…anything to keep you young!