Two eight

Tuesday night I didn’t fall asleep until well after 2 a.m. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. I read before bed, I didn’t go anywhere near the computer after work, I watched 10 minutes of the Weather Channel. Nothing helped.

And so I laid there. Staring at the ceiling and then the wall while I tried to think about nothing. Which is damn near impossible. Because I think that’s what you’re supposed to do in yoga, which makes every attempt to get you there, but all I was thinking about last time was “Really? This is yoga? Why haven’t I done this before? We’re basically just power-napping right now!” And then I thought about the nap I was
gonna take that weekend and how it was the first one I’d have taken in the past month because I’ve been busy and here’s why I have been busy and blah blah shut up already.

Tuesday night’s insomnia was nothing new, but the thoughts running through my head were. You see, today I turn 28. No big deal, right? Right, just like every other year of my 20s (after 21 of course). But for some reason, in those 2 hours after I attempted to go to bed, 28 seemed really scary.

If I had to metaphor it for you, it’d be like I was about to bungee jump (which I would never do in real life because that’s how your leg gets torn off and also, heights? Holy shit.). I was standing there, holding on and scared. I didn’t know what it was going to be like, I wasn’t ready for it and what in the hell had even brought me here?

On Tuesday night, that’s how I felt about my impending birthday. You guys, I have never felt like that about a birthday. I thought it’d come at 30, which makes so much more sense, because 30! No more 20s!

And here’s where it gets all therapy-like. Bear with me for a minute. Sidenote: Found a new therapist, that returns phone calls! One less thing to worry about! Now, if we could just stop playing phone tag and set up an appointment already…

You know what I thought about Tuesday night? Plans. Like, the plans when you’re younger and think you can control life to an extent and figure by this age you’ll do this and that age you’ll do that and 16-year-old me thought that by 28 I’d be married with one kid already, if not two. Funny how things work out.

I don’t know what I thought I’d be doing for work at this time, but I know an entertainment magazine of some sort was the priority. Glad that didn’t happen, though, because I’m pretty sure there aren’t any based in Louisville, at least not the kind I want to work for. And I need to stay here. This is where my heart is. Also, Derby.

Every once in a while – and it’s very rare – I feel like it’s Groundhog Day, but only for me. I’m doing the same things I’ve always done the same way I’ve always done them but around me, everyone else is moving on, changing, growing.

It’s silly. I worry about silly things. Because life, right now, for me? Is great. Is it what I thought it would be when I was 16? Nope. Is that a bad thing? HELL no. When I was 16 I also thought that being treated like crap by a guy was OK because hey, it was attention. Things change, people change, and I’m glad I’m where I am today because who said I’d be happy if I’d gotten what I thought I would when I was 16 by now?

It’s dumb to be scared, because it’s just another birthday – just another year that doesn’t really mean anything unless I make it mean something. And I plan to. Good things, remember? And I’ll bungee jump (metaphorically, not in real life). I’ll go into 28 willingly, not holding on to 27 for dear life because I’m used to it and I know it’s
safe and OK and happy and fine.

So after those two hours of anxiety-ridden tossing and turning Tuesday night, reading several articles on Cracked to get my mind off things and listening to a song Baby Einstein introduced me to first thing Wednesday morning, I was fine. I still am fine. And I’ll be fine. Just don’t ask me to bungee jump for real. I like having both legs.

P.s. The song Cheesebob told me about was Fun.’s “Be Calm.” Should become my motto. But it’s addicting and we sing it loud and I love it a lot.

Also, while I am scared of heights, that doesn’t mean I won’t try new things if they’re up high. What do I mean? Well there’s a good chance yours truly is riding in a balloon in the Derby Festival’s balloon race. WHAT? Let the irrational fears of death by balloon crash commence.

Oh, and happy birthday to me. Twenty-eight. Bring it.

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Three friggin’ years

And I’m still goin’.

That’s three years of writing about happy stuff, sad stuff, personal stuff, funny stuff, downright ridiculous stuff, photography stuff…..all on this lil’ website which people continue to visit for some reason.

And whatever that reason is, I’m happy about it. I’m glad that you’re here. I want to hear more from you and do more stuff on here that you’ll find interesting so you’ll keep coming back.

I write this a lot for me, but I want it to be for others too. I want to share my stories, happy or sad, because it’s therapeutic. And it’s fun.

I have plans for this next year of blogging. And if there’s anything you want to see or see more of or want me to quit writing about altogether, lemme hear it.

And thanks for sticking with me!

Happy birthday, blog!

Also, this. Just because I can. And if you don’t love Stevie Wonder, you don’t love America.

My favorite posts this year – 10, to be exact

In honor of another year of blogging with double the amount of posts, comments and followers from the year before (really? What??!?) I have rounded up my personal favorites from what I’ve shared with you on this site. Some are one-hit wonders and others are part of a series. Because it’s too awesome not to, I’ve included all things Bourbon Boys, also known as that time when I drove my dad, uncles, and other awesome guys in my life on a tour of all the bourbon distilleries in the state (except one).

1. The first time I did yoga – WHAT was I thinking??

2. I wrote about when I got motivated.

3. Apparently I look like Paul McCartney?

4. Guys, I am not a painter.

5. Twice in one year I’m in a hospital because of an organ.

6. Bourbon Boyzzzz – six for the price of one.
One, two, three, four, five and six.

7. Saying goodbye to Grandpa.

8. Mission accomplished

9. Wherein my love affair with PIMM’S begins. Oh and Ashley and I went to England for a week.

10. I shared with you the story of my depression and anxiety. And it made me feel so much better.

So if you haven’t already, please read and enjoy. Or re-read and re-enjoy. Or tell me in the comments if I left any off you liked.

And thanks so much for reading!! I don’t really know why you do, a lot of the time, but I sure am grateful for it!

Housekeeping

This might be the most boring post I ever write. Except for maybe the first one I ever wrote on here three years ago. But please don’t stop reading yet.

Posting will be light nonexistent until our regularly scheduled Friday fun, because, well, I’ve got shit to do. And these naps don’t take themselves.

I’ll so make up for it though, because in case you were unaware, a certain blog I know of is celebrating three years of existence next week… and for you, my friends, that means content galore!

Just a tease of what you’ll have to look forward to March 25-31:
– Live-blog of Hoarders returns
– I tell you what I was like at age 3 (with photos! possibly)
– The latest installment of texts that sound like my friends
Smiley things round 2
– I tell you about that time I didn’t eat for 30 hours
– Live-blog/stream-of-consciousness as I watch Scarface in its entirety (no, I’ve never seen it all the way through before, I’ll pause while you react like I did when I found out several people in my life had not seen Shawshank until recently).

And loads more awesome stuff! So much so that I need to take this week off to prepare. I’ve gotta have time for the magic to work, people…

See you soon!

The first birthday

As you know, on this blog in 2012, we’ve started honoring some of my family members (when I’m a professional blogger I’ll branch out to friends as well) on their birthdays with a photo and a list I make about them. In March, there are two birthdays that are tough. They are the birthdays of my grandfathers, both of whom have passed away – one in 2008 and one just this past September. I miss them both, all the time.

This is the first birthday of my grandpa deWitt’s since he passed away. He would have been 95. It’s hard for so many reasons (just as it is on my other grandpa’s birthday and other holidays and events when we are especially reminded our loved ones are gone). One thing I always told my grandpa d. was that we’d have a 100th birthday party for him. We’d already started thinking about the cake.

There have been so many things I’ve wanted to tell him since he’s been gone, things to share with him, and when I think of how I’m not able to do that now, it kills me.

So for his birthday, I made a little list about him. Happy birthday, Grandpa

Grandpa d.

– He’d definitely want to see (and probably use) my new camera. The man had like, every camera ever made and he was always taking pictures.

– I miss his voice, but luckily early last year saved it in a book I’m keeping for my family and my kids one day. It’s of him and my grandma, reading “Twas the Night Before Christmas,” in one of those recordable books from Hallmark. We listened to it this Christmas and it made me happy to hear him again.

– I miss making him laugh.

– It’s March Madness, and this is the first year we won’t have his bracket filled out, taped up next to the rest of ours at Mom and Dad’s. He’s always been good at picking his teams.

– I miss hearing him tease grandma.

– I miss hearing stories of his life that were sometimes even news to my mom.

– He’d be so proud of Chuckie and so excited for him for getting into M.I.T.

– I like being told I look like him sometimes. It’s usually when I’m squinting? but I like that I can have that.

Twenty-feeeive

Today is the birthday of my little sister, Rachel. She is a quarter of a century old. And cute.

And by now, you know the drill. She’s family, it’s a birthday, I like lists. Here is a list, filled with some of the things I like about her.

1. She knows what I’ll say before I say it and is one of the few people who knows what I’m thinking just from a look.
2. She started a blog!
3. She takes my advice on television shows she should watch, which makes me feel important.
4. She was my first roommate.
5. She is letting me take engagement pictures of her and Chuckie and I did their Save-the-Dates.
6. She’s really good at crafts but not so good it’s annoying, so she’ll come with me to do things like paint.
7. She’s moving to Boston for a couple years (which is simultaneously happy and sad, because I’ll miss her a lot, but it’s an amazing opportunity for her and Swarles) and she said I can come visit!
8. She put me in charge of the playlist for the wedding day preparation, because she respects my DJ abilities.
9. She is already committed to a Justin Timberlake concert with me wherever we can if he ever goes back on tour.
10. We don’t hold hands as much as me and Sami or me and Chuckie do, but that’s OK.

Miss you

As you know, on this blog in 2012, we’ve started honoring some of my family members (when I’m a professional blogger I’ll branch out to friends as well) on their birthdays with a photo and a list I make about them. In March, there are two birthdays that are tough. They are the birthdays of my grandfathers, both of whom have passed away – one in 2008 and one just this past September. I miss them both, all the time.

This is my grandpa H. He would be turning 75 this year. That’s still so young.

I miss him very much.

Happy birthday, Grandpa.

Swarles Barkley

Today is my soon-to-be brother-in-law’s birthday. Whoa. That’s weird to say. I haven’t wrote a blog about him before, but since they’re getting married now and he’s gonna be around more, I guess I should start.

Just kidding, he’s been around for 10 years already and this wedding thing is really just a formality to make it official and a chance for us to throw a huge party because he’s been my brother for years.

He goes by many names – Chuckie, Chuck, Charles, Swarles, Swarlees, Chuck Diesel, Charmazmin, Mister Bubbie.

And keeping with the birthday theme I’ve begun this year, I’m going to give you a list of some of the things I like about him.

Because who doesn’t like lists? Especially if they’re complimentary in nature.

1. Vacation Chuckie.
2. He’s a good motivator, he always tells people they can do something, no problem.
3. When he was little he named his dogs after kids in his class. Adorable.
4. He was my Best Band Friend in high school. I have notes somewhere with that label to prove it.
5. He takes good care of my sister. And his friends and family.
6. He’ll sing karaoke and harmonize with me, especially on the theme song from Friends.
7. Party Chuckie.
8. He’s a real-life ninja. Seriously. Don’t play ninja tag with him. You will never win.
9. He stayed outside at the Haunted Yard with me this year (that shit’s scary!)
10. Sometimes we hold hands to make Rachel mad. (Seriously you guys, I just like holding hands with people…)

Lil’ homie

Today is Sam I Am’s birthday. Here she is:

Isn’t she beautiful?

In her honor, I thought I’d make a list of just some of the things I like about her. Ready, set, go!

1. She will have car dance parties and sing at the top of her lungs with me.
2. She teaches me things. Like German: “Der hund schvimpt.” (The dog swims).
3. She will watch Muppet Treasure Island with me.
4. Sometimes we hold hands and it’s nice because she always has baby-soft hands.
5. She’s going to probably live in a foreign country at some point in her life for an indeterminate amount of time so I’ll get to go visit her and have a free place to stay.
6. She got me a book for Christmas to fill with lists.
7. She’s worse than me at crafts.
8. She likes to look at baby shoes with me at Target even when we have no babies to buy them for.
9. She appreciates Saturday Night live videos that I do, like this one: German Coats
10. She’s a nerd.

I could go on. And on. And on. But then what would I write about for her next birthday?

Happy birthday, Cheesebob. Love you!

Looking for a good present to get me? It rhymes with shmamra.

Oh hey there. I was just thinking earlier today that it’s about that time. About that time when I remember that people that buy me birthday/Christmas presents read this blog. And hopefully, they are susceptible to blatant hints.

On account of there’s something I want. And not that i expect it but it would be really awesome and I’ve been good this year. For the most part.

And I could buy it for myself, in a few months probably, but Mom and Dad want me to be saving my money for other things – like a condo/house when the lease is up here with The Roommate. And buying this camera that I totally don’t need but really want would just be irresponsible at this juncture. (Right, parents?)

And, oh would you look at that. Here’s the kind of camera I want. Pay close attention to the amounts for used or refurbished cameras.

Yeah, that’s right, it doesn’t even have to be brand new. And you don’t have to buy me anything else but the body and the regular lens. I’ll buy a longer lens later and even buy the memory card for it myself.

Hey, here’s another one! Even cheaper! And that’s fine, as long as it’s not damaged or the lens isn’t scratched!

OR HOW ABOUT THIS ONE.

Pay close attention to how it says it can be gift wrapped. Gift wrapped. ‘Cause it could like, be a gift for someone. Maybe someone who is kind of good at taking pictures and wants to get better. And will totally take awesome pictures for you to hang on the wall in your newly decorated and painted living room/family room/dining room.

Oh, the pictures I could take with this camera. All amazing at whatnot. So, in conclusion, please remember how much you like me and I will never ask you for anything again. Or at least I will try not to. For at least two years. Unless I need help with the new place to live thing…..JUST KIDDING….shhh.