I’m taking a small break from the funny to take time to honor the most important man in my life, my father—Gary Miller. Today he turns 60 and I am spending the day with him celebrating him. So…instead of giving you 60 reasons why I love him (which I could do…but didn’t want to overwhelm you) I shall give you 30…that is how long I have known him and these are in no particular order:
1. He is the creator of the phrase, “She’s a pretty girl” (can’t remember when it started…and I’ve lost count of how many times it’s been said)
2. He is truly the funniest person I know. Nobody makes me laugh harder. I get my sense of humor from him.
3. He is the GODLIEST and most REAL person I know.
4. I am who I am today because of his strong influence in my life.
5. He has always been the most attentive father. We colored together, went on daddy-daughter dates together once a week (still try to make that happen as much as possible to this day), rode bikes, flew kites, double-feature movies and he endured many a horrible voice recitals just to see me.
6. He pushed me to be who I am…even when I fought him tooth and nail! Thanks for making me finish college! :)
7. He is an amazing pastor, preacher, teacher, evangelist, writer and so much more! I am amazed at the way he makes anyone and everyone around him welcome. He leads people to the Lord all the time by just being him.
8. He is a man’s man! Nothing femmy about him in the least!!! And he doesn’t pussy-foot around issues. The older I get…the more I have learned to appreciate this…there need to be more men like that out there!!!
9. He is a romantic at heart. The way he loves my mom is such a sweet example of what I want in a husband.
10. He is a lover and a fighter. He knows when to stand up and when to turn the other cheek. I’m still learning in this area. :)
11. He is amazingly creative!
12. He gives the best hugs—sometimes words aren’t necessary—you just need a hug. Every break-up has always included a hug and going for ice cream.
13. When words are needed—he has the best advice.
14. He is a prayer warrior!
15. He has my back—always!
16. He’s not afraid to call me out…and I appreciate this.
17. He is one of my very best friends. My family knows me better than most anyone and I genuinely love spending time with them.
18. He is so very humble and proud at the same time.
19. He is an impeccable dresser and knows fashion. One of the things I love most about him is he knows how to speak my mother’s love language, gifts! He loves to buy her shoes. And he loves to bless my sister and me as well when he can.
20. I love how he has embraced my friends, and when they didn’t have a daddy, he took on the role.
21. He is so wise. He has the perfect balance of biblical wisdom and common sense wisdom. When I can’t come up with the answer on my own—go to Dad!
22. He is an amazing father and husband.
23. He always put family over church. I grew up a PK (pastor’s kid), but never ever felt the church came before us, which, by the way, is why most PK’s rebel. I never needed the attention or the need to rebel because I needed my father’s attention. In fact, short story. When I was in 2nd grade my dad started taking my sister and me out once a week for breakfast before school. We each had our own day…just him by ourselves. I don’t think he’s able to eat McDonald’s to this day. We would spend about an hour just asking each other questions, what’s your favorite color, what do you want to be when you grow up, etc. One morning, on my day, my mom let me know my dad had to leave for an unexpected early morning meeting. I was disappointed, but was assured Dad would take me another day that week. Later that morning, I got called out of class and my dad was in the hallway waiting for me. Man alive I thought I was in trouble! Nope. He got down on one knee, looked me in the eye, told me how sorry he was that he missed our morning appointment, that it was inexcusable and would never happen again, then asked for my forgiveness. WOW! And it never happened again.
24. I love his laugh and I love to make him laugh.
25. He is a man of integrity and character.
26. He is so very strong! When others around have given up…he has continued the fight!
27. He started me on “my foffee” (coffee) addiction at a young age (3) much to my mother’s frustration (she detests coffee). So our little game would be to drink “foffee” and then go give mommy kisses.
28. He taught me what true ROCK ‘N ROLL is!
29. He tells the best stories. As a kid, every night before bedtime, in order to get me to sleep (I was a night-owl even then), he would make up the most FACINATING stories about “Princess Ashley” and they always left you hanging, until the next night.
30. He introduced me to Jesus and I have never been the same since.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the most amazing father in the WORLD!!!
I.LOVE.YOU!!!
Your… “pretty girl” :)
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
stocks and markets
Making it short and sweet today. Friday’s will be long…PS by the way. : )
Yesterday at work, I noticed on my MSN homepage there was BREAKING NEWS: DOW drops 22 points and plummets below 11,000…or something like that. Now, I know that should be important because #1, it’s the DOW and #2, it’s breaking news—however, it means nothing to me. My family never did the whole investing thing, so I’ve never bothered becoming familiar with it. I know others who have, and have had great success and others who have not. I think that’s why I don’t like it, it’s not dependable. I love adventure and taking risks, but not in that area. Sorry, this has gotten too serious. Anyways…
I turn around to my co-workers and read the statement off…and I get a similar reaction—blink, blink, blank stare—but I whisper, “I think that’s bad.” And they start laughing hysterically (sorry to those of you affected). Later that evening, I was telling my roomies about the exchange we had at work, and I said in passing, “yeah, I don’t really get into the whole stocks and markets thing.” Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever had this moment, but it’s the moment when you know you’ve said something out loud, but you know it’s not right, but you’re not sure why it’s not right. Any takers? No? Well, happens a lot in our household and we DO NOT let the other get away with it.
So naturally, my roomies don’t let it go, and for a solid 10-15 minutes, in their perfectly sounding air head voices go back and forth about, “oh my gosh, the stocks and markets! I love the stocks and markets. Mainly because I like to share. They do a lot of sharing at the stocks and markets. And oh my gosh, they laugh and laugh while I’m there, especially when I say stocks and markets…I think it’s because they really like me.”
Much to my chagrin, I have to grin and bear it. Don’t worry, one day very soon, probably today, I’ll get ‘em back.
“she’s a pretty girl”
Yesterday at work, I noticed on my MSN homepage there was BREAKING NEWS: DOW drops 22 points and plummets below 11,000…or something like that. Now, I know that should be important because #1, it’s the DOW and #2, it’s breaking news—however, it means nothing to me. My family never did the whole investing thing, so I’ve never bothered becoming familiar with it. I know others who have, and have had great success and others who have not. I think that’s why I don’t like it, it’s not dependable. I love adventure and taking risks, but not in that area. Sorry, this has gotten too serious. Anyways…
I turn around to my co-workers and read the statement off…and I get a similar reaction—blink, blink, blank stare—but I whisper, “I think that’s bad.” And they start laughing hysterically (sorry to those of you affected). Later that evening, I was telling my roomies about the exchange we had at work, and I said in passing, “yeah, I don’t really get into the whole stocks and markets thing.” Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever had this moment, but it’s the moment when you know you’ve said something out loud, but you know it’s not right, but you’re not sure why it’s not right. Any takers? No? Well, happens a lot in our household and we DO NOT let the other get away with it.
So naturally, my roomies don’t let it go, and for a solid 10-15 minutes, in their perfectly sounding air head voices go back and forth about, “oh my gosh, the stocks and markets! I love the stocks and markets. Mainly because I like to share. They do a lot of sharing at the stocks and markets. And oh my gosh, they laugh and laugh while I’m there, especially when I say stocks and markets…I think it’s because they really like me.”
Much to my chagrin, I have to grin and bear it. Don’t worry, one day very soon, probably today, I’ll get ‘em back.
“she’s a pretty girl”
Monday, April 26, 2010
day 5: off is in the middle
Several years ago my church did a church-wide 40 day fast. I was familiar with the idea of fasting, growing up my dad had done several 40 day fasts, but I myself had never done fasting to that extent before. After prayerfully considering it, I felt God leading me to do a portion of the fast all liquid. Cocky me, I was like, “how hard could this be?! I love smoothies, so I’ll be fine.”
Unfortunately, your body starts to go a little wack on you—blood sugar levels start skyrocketing, you start envisioning people as food and then you just start randomly smelling certain foods that you used to enjoy. For me, it was Babe’s Chicken, more specifically, the biscuits. For you out-of- towners, Babe’s is hands down the best place to get fried chicken and the fluffiest biscuits you’ll ever, EVER put in your mouth. Oh my, my mouth just started watering…focus Ashley, focus!
So, in order to keep your cravings down, you start to get really creative with the blender. My philosophy was, “hey, if I can suck it down a straw, then it’s legal.” One night in particular I made a big pot of stew, but I was SO freaking hungry before I started the process, that I was very, VERY impatient in the cooking process. By nature I’m not very patient anyway, and I’m most definitely not one of those girls that find cooking relaxing, so mix that with 15 days of no food—Lawd have mercy…it wasn’t pretty.
Earlier, while at the store picking up items for the stew, I had also bought a new blender (this is important to know—you’ll see in a minute). Now, by this time, my friends have all gathered in the kitchen with me, each making their own things, so it was quite a tight space. The stew is FINALLY done, and I go to pour it into the blender. Allyson (sister) and Brittney (friend) each say at different times, “you know, it probably needs to cool before you put it in the blender.” Me: “Naw, it’ll be fine. Besides, I’m STARVING, so I don’t care.” Famous last words.
I pour the stew in the blender steaming, piping hot and I stick the lid on top, which has now created this intense amount of trapped steam. I place my hand on top of the lid and use the other hand to hit blend. Within a matter of seconds, the lid goes flying off the top (due to the trapped steam) and piping hot stew starts flying everywhere! Have I mentioned I have an all white kitchen?!! Problem is, because I’m not familiar with this blender, I am hitting every button imaginable to make this thing stop—blend, ice crusher, puree, mix, everything BUT the off button and the thing keeps spewing more and more! Over all the commotion, Brittney’s voice comes screaming from behind me, “OFF IS IN THE MIDDLE…OFF IS IN THE MIDDLE!!!!” I finally find the “off is in the middle” button and get the thing to shut off. It looked like a horrific and graphic murder had just taken place in my kitchen. My white cabinets were covered in red mush, my white floor was covered in red mush and WE were most definitely covered in red mush. We just fell to the floor in a messy heap and laughed.
It took days, months, years until I finally stopped finding chunks of stew in every nook and cranny of my kitchen. And to this day, I still have a scar on my hand from the piping hot stew that exploded in my kitchen that serves as a lovely reminder. Hey…be sure you become familiar with your blender BEFORE use…
“she’s a pretty girl” in the kitchen…
Unfortunately, your body starts to go a little wack on you—blood sugar levels start skyrocketing, you start envisioning people as food and then you just start randomly smelling certain foods that you used to enjoy. For me, it was Babe’s Chicken, more specifically, the biscuits. For you out-of- towners, Babe’s is hands down the best place to get fried chicken and the fluffiest biscuits you’ll ever, EVER put in your mouth. Oh my, my mouth just started watering…focus Ashley, focus!
So, in order to keep your cravings down, you start to get really creative with the blender. My philosophy was, “hey, if I can suck it down a straw, then it’s legal.” One night in particular I made a big pot of stew, but I was SO freaking hungry before I started the process, that I was very, VERY impatient in the cooking process. By nature I’m not very patient anyway, and I’m most definitely not one of those girls that find cooking relaxing, so mix that with 15 days of no food—Lawd have mercy…it wasn’t pretty.
Earlier, while at the store picking up items for the stew, I had also bought a new blender (this is important to know—you’ll see in a minute). Now, by this time, my friends have all gathered in the kitchen with me, each making their own things, so it was quite a tight space. The stew is FINALLY done, and I go to pour it into the blender. Allyson (sister) and Brittney (friend) each say at different times, “you know, it probably needs to cool before you put it in the blender.” Me: “Naw, it’ll be fine. Besides, I’m STARVING, so I don’t care.” Famous last words.
I pour the stew in the blender steaming, piping hot and I stick the lid on top, which has now created this intense amount of trapped steam. I place my hand on top of the lid and use the other hand to hit blend. Within a matter of seconds, the lid goes flying off the top (due to the trapped steam) and piping hot stew starts flying everywhere! Have I mentioned I have an all white kitchen?!! Problem is, because I’m not familiar with this blender, I am hitting every button imaginable to make this thing stop—blend, ice crusher, puree, mix, everything BUT the off button and the thing keeps spewing more and more! Over all the commotion, Brittney’s voice comes screaming from behind me, “OFF IS IN THE MIDDLE…OFF IS IN THE MIDDLE!!!!” I finally find the “off is in the middle” button and get the thing to shut off. It looked like a horrific and graphic murder had just taken place in my kitchen. My white cabinets were covered in red mush, my white floor was covered in red mush and WE were most definitely covered in red mush. We just fell to the floor in a messy heap and laughed.
It took days, months, years until I finally stopped finding chunks of stew in every nook and cranny of my kitchen. And to this day, I still have a scar on my hand from the piping hot stew that exploded in my kitchen that serves as a lovely reminder. Hey…be sure you become familiar with your blender BEFORE use…
“she’s a pretty girl” in the kitchen…
Friday, April 23, 2010
Day 4: heck if i know?!?
It’s been a bit of an interesting day. This morning I go to put on my really good smelling pair of boots (Friends episode) that I paid…well…paid quite a bit for and have owned for 3 months and they were already tearing on the inside. Not exactly a nice way to start the morning. After a few phone calls, may have figured out a solution, whilst getting a 15% discount. Not as much as I would’ve liked, but my negotiating skillz aren’t as top notch in the morning with no coffee. Speaking of mornings, don’t throw an egg in a bag with a bottle of vitamins and then throw it in your purse. The egg will lose every time…just sayin.
So, after talking it over with my friend at work, and telling her of my options, she says, “Hey…let’s go get some Starbucks, that will make things better.” True story. While we were in the car talking it over, I see this guy on a bike (not a motorcycle) and he’s on the same major busy street as us and cars are weaving around him to avoid hitting him and having a wreck. I know there are a lot of bikers out there, but this drives me crazy…especially when there is a perfectly good sidewalk available! Stepping down from soap box now.
We pull up to a stoplight to turn left and this biker has weaved in between cars and come up from behind to pull to our right, but slightly in front of us. He then sticks his left arm up with two fingers out. I’m in the middle of a conversation, and I go, “Does he want to turn left?! Is that what that means?” My friend, “I don’t know, maybe??? Are we supposed to wait for him, does he go first, do we go first, what do we do?” “HECK IF I KNOW?!?! I don’t remember that part in Driver’s Ed. Did they even tell us that part?” We go back and forth trying to wrack our brain to remember the rules of the road…and folks, it’s been years since I’ve been in Driver’s Ed, 15 to be exact. And let’s be honest, I don’t remember anything except that every day in class I ate a Butterfinger, Payday and Dr. Pepper (those were the days) and they showed those horribly graphic videos of teenagers that didn’t wear their seatbelts. UGH.
Finally, the light turns green, and yes, those two fingers out did mean he was turning left. Geez Louise! Nice to know…now you do too. Allow me to leave you with a little Bicycle Safety Rules of the Road. Remember, safety first.
“she’s a pretty girl” on the road…
So, after talking it over with my friend at work, and telling her of my options, she says, “Hey…let’s go get some Starbucks, that will make things better.” True story. While we were in the car talking it over, I see this guy on a bike (not a motorcycle) and he’s on the same major busy street as us and cars are weaving around him to avoid hitting him and having a wreck. I know there are a lot of bikers out there, but this drives me crazy…especially when there is a perfectly good sidewalk available! Stepping down from soap box now.
We pull up to a stoplight to turn left and this biker has weaved in between cars and come up from behind to pull to our right, but slightly in front of us. He then sticks his left arm up with two fingers out. I’m in the middle of a conversation, and I go, “Does he want to turn left?! Is that what that means?” My friend, “I don’t know, maybe??? Are we supposed to wait for him, does he go first, do we go first, what do we do?” “HECK IF I KNOW?!?! I don’t remember that part in Driver’s Ed. Did they even tell us that part?” We go back and forth trying to wrack our brain to remember the rules of the road…and folks, it’s been years since I’ve been in Driver’s Ed, 15 to be exact. And let’s be honest, I don’t remember anything except that every day in class I ate a Butterfinger, Payday and Dr. Pepper (those were the days) and they showed those horribly graphic videos of teenagers that didn’t wear their seatbelts. UGH.
Finally, the light turns green, and yes, those two fingers out did mean he was turning left. Geez Louise! Nice to know…now you do too. Allow me to leave you with a little Bicycle Safety Rules of the Road. Remember, safety first.
“she’s a pretty girl” on the road…
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
day 3: i'm a dork
On Saturday, as I was writing this, I was sitting in my parents garage, facebooking, twittering (yes, just started) and attempting to get the two to work together—all while listening to classic old school rock n roll (ZZ Top, Creedance Clearwater Revival—you know, the classics) AND “helping” the parentals with a garage sale. Because I had not prepared for 50 degree weather and rain, I had on tube socks with flip flops, a sweat shirt from 8th grade and knit gauchos. Yes, I know, you’re jealous with how I HOT I looked. My dad informed me I looked like a polish orphan.
The older I get, the dorkier I get. In fact, I’m told on a very regular basis by my sister, “Oh my gosh, you’re such a dork!” She likes to tell the story of me going off to college and immaturing rather than maturing. I spent too much of my life trying to be older than what I really was, so it was ridiculously freeing to find the dork within!
Most people don’t see this side of me. For the most part I’m a confident put together woman, but just so you know, there is quite the dork inside, and what most don’t know is there is also a klutz. I think it comes from years of trying to grow into my limbs…but I never did. They tell me I was supposed to be 5’6”…nope…didn’t happen. Poor thing…I wear the same size shoe now as I did in 4th grade…awkward doesn’t even begin to describe my childhood.
Case in point.
Several weeks ago I was in a meeting at work. I have a client sitting right next to me. We have breakfast items being served, fruit, muffins, nuts, coffee, you know, the usual. Now that you know my bad habit of zoning, I usually know the warning signs and get up and walk around a bit in order to stay focused. I decide I would like to get a mini-plate of food. So in the middle of the meeting I stand up, walk over to the items, serve myself and sit down. I pick up a big juicy strawberry, take a bite and it dribbles all down the front of my khaki jacket. Smooth move ex-lax, how you gonna recover from this one? Thankfully my client is distracted while my boss is speaking and I’m able to get a napkin, dip it in water and attack the stain. Ok, crisis averted.
I decide to go for something a bit smaller, a grape. Now, I’ve already learned (from prior experience) you don’t stab a grape with a fork, unless you want it to catapult across to the person next to you. So, I pick up a couple. One goes in my mouth and the other slips out and falls down the front of me and rolls over and bounces off my client’s shoe. Oh crap. Praying to God she doesn’t notice, and she doesn’t. Shew!
Then, lunch times rolls around and we’ve ordered from Café Express. I don’t really enjoy this place, but I L-O-V-E their sweet potato fries. I get my box of food. After wrestling with the container made of plastic, trying to be quiet and discreet, it finally opens. My greatest fear was that I would get too much momentum while opening and then fries would go flying, once again, knowing that from prior experience. It opens, and I go to put a fry in my mouth and it slips and falls to the floor next to my client, AGAIN! Good gracious…what is my deal?!? She now has a grape and a fry next to her foot. Keeping my fingers crossed her foot doesn’t move and squash them both.
I swear…if anyone watched me on any ordinary day, they would just roll their eyes and wonder how I make it through! Believe me…I wonder myself.
Thankfully, the meeting ends without anyone noticing anything out of the ordinary, or at least they didn’t say anything if they did, and my client’s shoe left food-free.
Embrace your inner dork today and make sure to LAUGH! :)
“she’s a pretty girl”
The older I get, the dorkier I get. In fact, I’m told on a very regular basis by my sister, “Oh my gosh, you’re such a dork!” She likes to tell the story of me going off to college and immaturing rather than maturing. I spent too much of my life trying to be older than what I really was, so it was ridiculously freeing to find the dork within!
Most people don’t see this side of me. For the most part I’m a confident put together woman, but just so you know, there is quite the dork inside, and what most don’t know is there is also a klutz. I think it comes from years of trying to grow into my limbs…but I never did. They tell me I was supposed to be 5’6”…nope…didn’t happen. Poor thing…I wear the same size shoe now as I did in 4th grade…awkward doesn’t even begin to describe my childhood.
Case in point.
Several weeks ago I was in a meeting at work. I have a client sitting right next to me. We have breakfast items being served, fruit, muffins, nuts, coffee, you know, the usual. Now that you know my bad habit of zoning, I usually know the warning signs and get up and walk around a bit in order to stay focused. I decide I would like to get a mini-plate of food. So in the middle of the meeting I stand up, walk over to the items, serve myself and sit down. I pick up a big juicy strawberry, take a bite and it dribbles all down the front of my khaki jacket. Smooth move ex-lax, how you gonna recover from this one? Thankfully my client is distracted while my boss is speaking and I’m able to get a napkin, dip it in water and attack the stain. Ok, crisis averted.
I decide to go for something a bit smaller, a grape. Now, I’ve already learned (from prior experience) you don’t stab a grape with a fork, unless you want it to catapult across to the person next to you. So, I pick up a couple. One goes in my mouth and the other slips out and falls down the front of me and rolls over and bounces off my client’s shoe. Oh crap. Praying to God she doesn’t notice, and she doesn’t. Shew!
Then, lunch times rolls around and we’ve ordered from Café Express. I don’t really enjoy this place, but I L-O-V-E their sweet potato fries. I get my box of food. After wrestling with the container made of plastic, trying to be quiet and discreet, it finally opens. My greatest fear was that I would get too much momentum while opening and then fries would go flying, once again, knowing that from prior experience. It opens, and I go to put a fry in my mouth and it slips and falls to the floor next to my client, AGAIN! Good gracious…what is my deal?!? She now has a grape and a fry next to her foot. Keeping my fingers crossed her foot doesn’t move and squash them both.
I swear…if anyone watched me on any ordinary day, they would just roll their eyes and wonder how I make it through! Believe me…I wonder myself.
Thankfully, the meeting ends without anyone noticing anything out of the ordinary, or at least they didn’t say anything if they did, and my client’s shoe left food-free.
Embrace your inner dork today and make sure to LAUGH! :)
“she’s a pretty girl”
Monday, April 19, 2010
day 2: mcalister's nemesis
"Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came...you wanna be where everybody knows your name." CHEERS
I think each of us has a place we love to frequent. You walk in, they know either your drink order, bagel order or maybe even your dress size and have already put something aside for you. Just makes you happy inside. I'm not really sure why, but it does.
Well...my two favorite places are Nordstrom (the MAC counter) and McAlister's. I don't frequent Nordstrom's as much as I used to...mainly because I detest North East Mall and try to get everything I can from Southlake Townsquare. But the second place I frequent, quite a bit I'm afraid, is McAlister's. Even if I don't eat lunch there...I usually stop by to get tea. It used to be sweet tea...but I switched to unsweet tea once I found a natural sweetener...Stevia. Try it my friends...it's MUCH better for you. And if I can give up the real deal...you most definitely can!
So, over the past 5 years, I've seen employees and managers come and go, but I've made new friends. They always know me by name, and usually have the tea glass already ready by the time I walk in the door. But about the same time I started going, (well I started going first...but that's not important) there was this girl who would ALWAYS be in there when I showed up. She was me...but with blonde hair. And if she wasn't there when I got there...she walked in right behind me. It was so weird?! Like we were stalking each othere...but we weren't...well at least I wasn't. She was the only other person they knew by name, and I think it irritated both of us that we weren't the only ones they loved. Because once I walked in the door, she would look me up and down. This is when I should have smiled, but nope. I looked her up and down right back. By the way...no matter how old you get, or how super-spiritual you are...there is still a mean and caddy Jr. High girl inside you ready for a good cat fight. Here we both were, competing with who could be the best customer and get the most attention...ridiculous I know. AND THEN, to top it off! She had to go and paint the dang cow sitting outside, and even signed her NAME: "OHHHHH...LIVVVVV...IIIIIII...AAAAAA!" UGH. I'm not bitter or anything. I mean, how was I supposed to trump that...create clothes for the thing?!?!
Sometime last year she just stopped coming. Guess she made it big as an artist. It may have been closer to two years ago. Lost track. I just know she went away and I didn't see her, and I was relieved. Then low and behold...
I walk in about two weeks ago with a friend from work and there's this brunette standing in front of me with almost the exact same outfit on as me...which doesn't happen very often. I walk to the left of her and start placing my order and I feel eyes on me looking me up and down. I look to my right and this chick is giving me the once over and it's ticking me off. She makes it to eye contact and then NO! It was HER! She had colored her hair?!?! We both realized it at the same time and just stared each other down. Then she just walked off. My friend beside me goes, "What in the world was THAT all about?!?!" Then I realized our little drama was pretty obvious to the rest of the world...woops.
Haven't seen her since. Think I might introduce myself to her the next time I see her since it's pretty obvious we both know who the other is...I don't know...we'll see.
I think each of us has a place we love to frequent. You walk in, they know either your drink order, bagel order or maybe even your dress size and have already put something aside for you. Just makes you happy inside. I'm not really sure why, but it does.
Well...my two favorite places are Nordstrom (the MAC counter) and McAlister's. I don't frequent Nordstrom's as much as I used to...mainly because I detest North East Mall and try to get everything I can from Southlake Townsquare. But the second place I frequent, quite a bit I'm afraid, is McAlister's. Even if I don't eat lunch there...I usually stop by to get tea. It used to be sweet tea...but I switched to unsweet tea once I found a natural sweetener...Stevia. Try it my friends...it's MUCH better for you. And if I can give up the real deal...you most definitely can!
So, over the past 5 years, I've seen employees and managers come and go, but I've made new friends. They always know me by name, and usually have the tea glass already ready by the time I walk in the door. But about the same time I started going, (well I started going first...but that's not important) there was this girl who would ALWAYS be in there when I showed up. She was me...but with blonde hair. And if she wasn't there when I got there...she walked in right behind me. It was so weird?! Like we were stalking each othere...but we weren't...well at least I wasn't. She was the only other person they knew by name, and I think it irritated both of us that we weren't the only ones they loved. Because once I walked in the door, she would look me up and down. This is when I should have smiled, but nope. I looked her up and down right back. By the way...no matter how old you get, or how super-spiritual you are...there is still a mean and caddy Jr. High girl inside you ready for a good cat fight. Here we both were, competing with who could be the best customer and get the most attention...ridiculous I know. AND THEN, to top it off! She had to go and paint the dang cow sitting outside, and even signed her NAME: "OHHHHH...LIVVVVV...IIIIIII...AAAAAA!" UGH. I'm not bitter or anything. I mean, how was I supposed to trump that...create clothes for the thing?!?!
Sometime last year she just stopped coming. Guess she made it big as an artist. It may have been closer to two years ago. Lost track. I just know she went away and I didn't see her, and I was relieved. Then low and behold...
I walk in about two weeks ago with a friend from work and there's this brunette standing in front of me with almost the exact same outfit on as me...which doesn't happen very often. I walk to the left of her and start placing my order and I feel eyes on me looking me up and down. I look to my right and this chick is giving me the once over and it's ticking me off. She makes it to eye contact and then NO! It was HER! She had colored her hair?!?! We both realized it at the same time and just stared each other down. Then she just walked off. My friend beside me goes, "What in the world was THAT all about?!?!" Then I realized our little drama was pretty obvious to the rest of the world...woops.
Haven't seen her since. Think I might introduce myself to her the next time I see her since it's pretty obvious we both know who the other is...I don't know...we'll see.
Olivia's Cow: "Sweet T"
Friday, April 16, 2010
she's a pretty girl day 1
So…I’m beginning something that many have told me to do…well…rather have told me to write a book…but I have decided to start small…blogging. Many of my closest friends…who know me the BEST…tell me on a regular basis…you have GOT to figure out a way to do the whole worship thing with stand up. Not sure how that really pans out in the long run…but in the mean time…I shall share my funny stories and ramblings throughout my week…hoping to bring much joy and laughter into your lives. I don’t think you could ever have enough of that…even the Bible talks about joy, laughter, cheer, goodness as medicine for the soul (check out Proverbs my friends).
The title of my blog might make you think I’m conceited or self-absorbed. Not at all. Quite the opposite. In fact, I find I’m misunderstood by most because my second language is Sarcasm. Have you heard of it? Anyways…growing up…although VERY dark headed…I would get myself in these predicaments that others might call “Blonde Moments” (sorry to all you blonds out there). I have a horrible problem of spacing out when someone is talking…think they call it day-dreaming…man…isn’t it pretty outside today? Wonder if I have some time to walk around Southlake Townsquare after work before going to work out. SEE??? Happens to me all the time! But what happens is I try to jump right back into the conversation right where I left off…not realizing that everyone else has moved on to something else, yet I blurt out something. Case in point.
At the dinner table with my family and a bunch of friends. We happen to mention Disneyland and how they pride themselves in being one of the cleanest parks in the world. About this time I space out, help one of my “nephews” with something (Drew-man I LOVE you and miss you!). My family goes on talking about how the trash cans are spaced every 6 ft in order to have trash cans readily available to anyone at any time. Not realizing my dad has JUST said this…I jump back in and say, “Don’t they have trash cans like every 9 feet or something?” The ENTIRE table goes quiet and gives me THE LOOK. This look is best described as shock + you are retarded + exasperation which my dad lovingly used to coin the term, “She’s a pretty girl!” I don’t think I’ve mentioned low self-esteem is not allowed in our family. :)
So, now you know my dirty little secret. I have “pretty girl” moments almost every day of my life. Or least some of the most bizarre situations occur to me that only I could get myself into. My friends and family get a big kick out of it…or either get mildly frustrated…just depends on how big of a “pretty girl” moment it really is. Hope you enjoy…and hope to bring you MUCH laughter and joy in this crazy thing we call life.
“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” Proverbs 31:25
The title of my blog might make you think I’m conceited or self-absorbed. Not at all. Quite the opposite. In fact, I find I’m misunderstood by most because my second language is Sarcasm. Have you heard of it? Anyways…growing up…although VERY dark headed…I would get myself in these predicaments that others might call “Blonde Moments” (sorry to all you blonds out there). I have a horrible problem of spacing out when someone is talking…think they call it day-dreaming…man…isn’t it pretty outside today? Wonder if I have some time to walk around Southlake Townsquare after work before going to work out. SEE??? Happens to me all the time! But what happens is I try to jump right back into the conversation right where I left off…not realizing that everyone else has moved on to something else, yet I blurt out something. Case in point.
At the dinner table with my family and a bunch of friends. We happen to mention Disneyland and how they pride themselves in being one of the cleanest parks in the world. About this time I space out, help one of my “nephews” with something (Drew-man I LOVE you and miss you!). My family goes on talking about how the trash cans are spaced every 6 ft in order to have trash cans readily available to anyone at any time. Not realizing my dad has JUST said this…I jump back in and say, “Don’t they have trash cans like every 9 feet or something?” The ENTIRE table goes quiet and gives me THE LOOK. This look is best described as shock + you are retarded + exasperation which my dad lovingly used to coin the term, “She’s a pretty girl!” I don’t think I’ve mentioned low self-esteem is not allowed in our family. :)
So, now you know my dirty little secret. I have “pretty girl” moments almost every day of my life. Or least some of the most bizarre situations occur to me that only I could get myself into. My friends and family get a big kick out of it…or either get mildly frustrated…just depends on how big of a “pretty girl” moment it really is. Hope you enjoy…and hope to bring you MUCH laughter and joy in this crazy thing we call life.
“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” Proverbs 31:25
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