Mine is not a new story.

Long awkward gaps in posts leave me with no choice but to write long awkward "this is what I've been up to" entries.

So here goes.

First and foremost, hair curlers have become more and more a part of my daily routine. Seriously? I didn't expect to turn into my mother for at least another decade.
(Oh, and as we all know, "this is what I've been up to" entries contain lots of pictures.)

That's me, circa 5 seconds ago. Real-time blogging y'all. I'm so hip and happening I can't stand it.

Oh, the hair is also new. Apparently I was hungry when I toddled on over to Duane Reade, because I came home with a box of "chocolate covered cherry" for my tired, bored locks. I go to Aveda for a trim on Monday and can't wait to see what they make of my homemade dye job.

But there's more to me than hair.

Speaking of hair, I saw Hair! And Billy Elliot, too! Broadway's new season pretty much kicks ass. Billy Elliot had me doubled over screeching and crying and snotting from all the laughter. Incredible. Absolutely incredible, start to finish. I could not WAIT to give a standing ovation at the end...and I'm one of those standing o snobs that HATES that it's become expected and passe at the end of EVERY PERFORMANCE OF ANY SHITTY SHOW. Hair was also just solidly good. I don't have quite the rant and rave about that one, but I sure did enjoy myself. I'm still waiting patiently for the opportunities to see West Side Story, Blithe Spirit, Rock of Ages and yes, even 9 to 5! Crissie and I saw Guys and Dolls a few weeks ago. I wanted it to be fantastic, but it sure wasn't. In fact, it was so bad that at the end of the show, I threw Crissie down the stairs just so we'd have something different to talk about on the way home and wouldn't spend the entire subway ride wailing OH CRAIG! TITUSS! MARY! WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN YOURSELVES INTO!?!? But that's a whole different story for a whole different day.

(I didn't ACTUALLY throw my roommate down the stairs. But she did take a tumble, so we like our new version of the story better.)

There have been some other fun happenings. Mardi Gras, for starters. Kim suggested we dress up as Robert Palmer girls. So we did.


I can't lie. It was pretty hilarious. Flying Vs included.

And then Jennimafer came to visit me! We pumped some money into New York's economy and some wine and cupcakes into ourselves and generally had a delightful time.


(Hey Jenn, I'm really glad you've been in my life for nearly 9 years now and I giggle when I think about the freshman we once were vs. the women we've become. Thank you for coming to spend some time with me!)

Megan turned 28! So of COURSE we had to help her celebrate. So of COURSE there was a tiara involved!

Which of COURSE I was eventually kind enough to let the Birthday Girl wear.


After reviewing Megan's birthday party film, I would now like to take a moment to note that I believe I am beginning to have a profound negative impact on my friends' picture taking abilities. Scroll back two entries to see a typical picture of me. Now, observe.




Apparently, it has become far too big a favor to ask that anyone just smile pretty for a gosh-darned picture. Self included. Whoops.

And THAT, my friends, brings you up to speed. Taryn arrives in a few more days before her Adventures in Italy commence. I am positive there will be more sordid tales and inappropriate pictures to follow.

The rest is mine, I guess. The beauty AND the mess.

Tucked somewhere in every phone conversation with my mother is her reminder that she had me (her first child) when she was 32. Evan came along 10 years later While the rest of society places a great deal of importance on the Holy Sacrament of Marriage and the blessings children bring, (snort) I'm comforted in the fact that at least my Mama isn't quite ready for me to follow suit. And of all the ways I may have possibly disappointed my parents over the years, at least being single and nearly 27 isn't one of them.

At the end of every phone conversation with my father is his most favorite piece of advice. "Watch your back." That has nothing to do with anything other than the fact that I find it hilarious that of all the things he could say, that is what he consistently chooses.

So there are two big things happening.

1) I'm hellbent on losing another 30 pounds before my birthday. Mainly because with 30 more pounds off, I'll be past 100 pounds off total and I'm pretty sure that's hot shit. And I'm pretty sure the summer will be so much more bearable if I weigh less and therefore feel more comfortable wearing less. Oh yeah, and there's that whole healthier thing too.

It feels good to be eating well again. Earlier today I was flirting with the idea of grabbing slice of pizza or seven for dinner tonight. And then I realized I didn't actually want pizza, I just felt like I should want pizza. I actually want a turkey-apple-cheese sammich on wheat pita with sprouts. And some hummus. I greatly fear I might turn into a chickpea any day now for all the hummus I've been eating.

and the super big news

b) New York gets to keep on keeping me. In June, I'll be signing into another year's lease. While I had made no actual plans to move back to Charlotte, I think we all know it's something that constantly squats in my mind. But after a talking to from my most favorite voice of reason, I realized I'm never going to be truly happy here until I quit talking about leaving. And then I'd leave and suddenly feel all kinds of guilt and sadness over never giving so great a city a real chance. And I know this is the right thing for me because I couldn't possibly imagine being more excited than I am right now at this very second.

Becaaaaaaaause I'm moving into a 3 bedroom with Megan and Marielle and it's going to be beautiful and fantastic and we're going to live in some spectacular neighborhood and in some kind of a brilliant apartment. The timing is perfect - the market is down and so is the rent. We have time and absolutely no need to compromise a thing.

We had our first roommate date over sushi and fro-yo last night and it simply felt right. To try to put it into words would be silly.

It feels damn good to love your life and your situation and your job and your friends but still see lots of room for improvement. LOTS of room, y'all. But that's ok. I'm pretty sure I've still got time.

She is something all together different, never just an ordinary girl.

People have been telling me for some time now that I look like Lauren Graham. AKA Lorelei, the mom from Gilmore Girls. I even watched a few episodes, and I don't see it. She's smokin' hot, y'all. Apparently it's in the mannerisms, but as I can't really hear and see myself, it's all lost on me.

Well. Was all lost on me. Until Lorelei hit Broadway in Guys and Dolls and this publicity photo hit subway tunnels:

I mean, I guess there is a SLIGHT resemblance. Just can't put my finger on what, exactly.

Hmmmmmm.

This is tricky.

A little help here, please?

There's something, alright.

Oh well. I give up. If you figure it out, let me know.


Oh wait! I've got it! It's the nose! Right???


Awesome. Glad I figured that one out.

(This completely self-indulgent post brought to you by the face that I am FINALLY seeing Guys and Dolls this week and am sosososososososososososososoSOOOOOOOO excited about it.)

Lost and insecure. You found me.

I have exactly 7 drafts sitting unloved under my "Edit Posts" tab. So, while I realize I totally and without question have been sucking wind in the department of actually hitting "Publish Post" - I mean, I tried. Right?

Nothing just seemed good enough for you.

One was yet another tourist rant. Two were "I'm not gonna rant about the commercial pressure and sexist tendencies of Valentine's day" rants. Two were attempted "this is what I did in North Carolina" updates. One was a completely whiney attempt to not be whiney. And one was attempting to figure out why I have become completely engrossed in The Bachelor. (But now I know the answer to that one. Well. Answers. 1) I've become a total sap the longer I stay single and B) American Idol hadn't kicked into Hollywood Week yet.)

Oh, and I fully intended to write one about how much I love my MacBook, but never got around to it. How's that for irony? I couldn't drag myself to the computer I love to tell you all about how much I love it.

I also thought about writing an entry about socks. Sidebar: Filene's Basement in Union Square really is the Holy Land of Socks. Seriously. A whole quarter of a floor dedicated to socks, hose, and tights.

I think the main reason I'm not writing is because I don't like facing what I don't have to report. Many in my life are blessed with fantastic happenings - someone is pregnant. Someone is moving to Italy. Someone is getting married in Hawaii. Someone is buying a new house. Jobs are shifting and relationships are evolving and I'm like well...today I went to work, came home, carried on a long conversation with my cat, watched some bad tv, and went to bed. It's all so very Bridget Jones, right down to the solo dancing to Chaka Khan and red wine overdosing. But minus Colin Firth. Mmmmmmm, Colin.

In truth, I'd rather be married and pregnant than where I am right now. Oh, snap. There, I said what every self-assured closer-to-30-than-20 successful and capable woman is NEVER supposed to be admit.

And nobody really digs a woe is me kind of entry, so I just chose to be quiet instead of whiney.

All that being said, I have taken the past day and a half to be still and quiet and allow myself to be sick and pathetic. Now that I've driven myself to stir crazy, I am going to do a little cleaning and a little cooking and rejoin the human race. If you're bored, then you're boring.

Little shiver, shaking me everyday

This is really immature and tacky.

But there's a pretty good chance it'll make you laugh, so I'm going to elect to share anyway.

There's a (tremendously lovely, quite nice) girl at one of the hotels where I work. Her name is Adeola. Every time I work here, I find myself terrified to call her by name for fear I will slip and call her "Areola." And that would be bad.

In ever so slightly more grown-up news, TODAY IS BUSH'S LAST DAY AS PRESIDENT! HoooooooRAY!

You've already won me over, in spite of me.

I'd love to find the time to tell you what I've been up to since December.

I mean, really. I wish I could find the time to tell you about going to Lori's pre-Christmas and hanging out with one of the most incredible families God ever created. Or all the fantastic things Lori did for me to remind my that I do in fact have the best BFF in existence. I want to be able to brag about how she met me at the airport with a sign

and spoiled me with sweet tea and good food and a manicure/pedicure. And how she threw one hell of a Christmas gathering. One that would make Paula Deen, Martha Stewart and most importantly, Diane Herndon, proud.


I want to be able to tell you all about heading to Birmingham and seeing my precious baby brother

and how well my family gets along now that we're all growed up


It sure would be grand to tell you how I celebrated the end of '08 and beginning of '09 with three of the most important people currently in my life

and just how much fun it was


I'm dying to tell you that work is going well and keeps me constantly busy, hence the reason I don't blog anymore. "Work was fun, the economy is stupid, tourists make me laugh" probably isn't what you'd like filling this space. (More importantly, it's not what I would like filling this space.)
And it's just a shame I can't figure out how to use my position for fun and perks. Like, parties at venues that end up swaddling me in a snuggy and forcing me to drink hot cider while taking in the view from the rooftop bar.


It sure would be nice if I found time to mention the ridiculous things I've been up to when not working. Like The Office Trivia Game

or that I've taken up a hobby

(That's right. Paint by number. I sure am. Keeps me occupied AND quiet.)

But more than anything, I just wish I could find a way to take a moment to assure you that I am still absolutely and completely sharp as a tack and not in the slightest bit insane.

And I just wish you knew that as always, I strive to keep it sassy.

But above all things, stay classy.



Yup. It's just too bad I couldn't find the time to bring myself to share these things with y'all. Oh well. Forgive me?

Think of me as programmable soda.

Christmas has done come and gone and I've invaded and retreated from the South (and ingested a whole lot of fried and sugared things). Other than a blissful couple days with Lori and her family followed by a couple more oddly peaceful days with my own, I have nothing to report. I hate to admit it, but Christmastime loses a lil somethin'somethin' without little ones running about. Perhaps one day...

I've been trying to find the words to adequately reflect on the past year and eloquently pose my hopes and dreams for the next. I think 2008 can by summed up as the "Woah. Didn't see that coming" kind of year, and I'm at peace with that. No one ever thought I'd last over a year in New York City, much less going strong on nearly two and a half. No one ever thought I'd fall into a career path and advance to management at the tender young age of 26. No one ever thought I'd conquer my alone-aphobia. Or that I'd try to move back to North Carolina and fail. No one ever thought I'd suddenly start to get along with, and respect, certain members of my family. No one ever thought I'd finally mature and leave the petulant child act behind.

Maybe I'm not giving anyone enough credit. Maybe what I mean by "no one" is "I."

At any rate, I stand ready to step into 2009 without any resemblance of a plan. Usually there's a list. (And dammit, I usually stick to that list, too.) But seeing how every plan I make seems to unravel, I refuse to make one for the year. Let 2009 be the year I love deeper and laugh louder and fall harder and surrender to God's will better than I ever have before. Perhaps that's the chicken's way out but I don't care because there doesn't really seem to be any other way for me to be.

Currently occupying the coveted background of my blackberry is my most favorite picture of this year. It serves as a constant reminder to always question, always wonder.

Where AM I going? I'm not entirely sure, yet I do have a very good feeling about 2009. It just feels like the kind of year where what I want and what I need are going to find each other and fuse together. I. Can't. Wait. I am going to be happy.

Though it is, I admit, the tiniest bit unlike I anticipated.

Do you know how I know I'm still a Southerner at heart?

Here at work, and high above Times Square, I glanced out the window to see snow pouring from the sky. It took a great deal of effort to not squeal and rush outside and stick my tongue out and dance in the stuff. Even though I know snow will inevitably bring subway delays and wet feet and generous opportunities for slips and falls and general crankiness about the city...I don't know. I can't help it. Somewhere deep inside, I'm still that 8 year who has only seen snow a time or two.

Speaking of the South...this time next week, I will BE there. Georgia and Alabama, to be exact. Bring on the sweet tea and cover me in grits. I absolutely cannot wait!

I also can't wait for 2009. 2008 has been...well, a year. Mostly good, some bad, lots of learning and growing. You can't always get what you want. You caaaaaan't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you might fiiiind. You get what you neeeeed!...has been the theme song. And dammit, I'm ready for what I want and what I need to go hand in hand. There's a special kind of hope a new year brings. My resolutions are at the ready and I'm already antsy to get out of this year and into the next.

But mostly, I'm just ready to be down yonder. Bless my heart.

But it's thoughts like these that catch my troubled head (when you're away, when I am missing you to death)

Do you know how I know I'm getting old(er)?

Today was my day off. The apartment is relatively clean. The dishes are mostly done. (Thanks, Megan.) My underwear drawer is mostly full, which is to say I don't have an immediate and desperate need to do laundry. I can still see the creases on the pants legs of my suits, which is to say I didn't feel like a dry cleaner run just yet.

Happy to not have an agenda, I plopped my butt on the couch, vampire fiction in hand. Elizabetta has been coaxing me to read Twilight for months, and yet it has just now become too difficult to ignore, what, with all the Facebook status updates and changing of artificial last names to Cullen. Might as well see what the big deal is about, right?

So here's picture proof of my perfect day.


Upon finishing the book, (and sushi - YUM) I emailed Crissie and begged her presence for a movie screening. I could not wait another second to see Edward and judge Bella. (I'm not worthy, I'm not wooooorthy!!!!) Tickets and popcorn and Diet Coke in hand, we settled in.

And my first reaction?

Bella's dad is CUTE.

That's right, folks. I am at the age where the FATHERS in films now appeal to me.

I'm old. There. I proved it.

All I really need is you.

And all I really have to say is...

ROOOOOOOOLL TIDE! ROLL!!!!

It's been a fun year to be a Bama fan. Last night was absolutely no exception. Of course, the Alabama/Auburn game means the end of Football season is near. These silly Yankees seem to think baseball season is something to be excited about, but I beg to differ.

Day off tomorrow! I don't plan on budging from my pajamas or couch. The end.