I'm Engaged!

OK, so, I know I post funny stories/experiences and whatnot but I have to officially post about my ENGAGEMENT!

Most of you probably already know how it went down or at least put the pieces together via the Facebook updates. For those of you that don't know, don't fret, for I will tell you right now!

December 15, Chazz had his first advanced amateur MMA bout. Advanced amateur basically means the fighters are allowed to incorporate "ground and pound" into their fight strategy. It is as scary as it sounds (to me, anyway). The fight was at Wild Bill's in Duluth (or Gwinnett- whatever you prefer) in a traditional boxing ring (I don't agree with this- MMA is meant for a cage/octagon. You can't reset two fighters mid-fight because they're under the ropes- it just shouldn't work that way). 

This fight night was Wild Bills' annual Toys For Tots charity. If you brought an unwrapped toy, you got a free general admission ticket. There was estimated to be about 3,000 people there. No pressure, right?

The day of the fight I made Chazz run errands with me, one errand being to go to the mall. I kind of tricked him into going because I knew he wouldn't have gone otherwise. The joke ended up being on me because he started shadowboxing a mannequin and broke it's hand off. -_-. As I tried on what seemed like 247 outfits, he was NO help picking one. He kept saying how he was ready to go and he didn't care what I wore. But I cared, I wanted to dress up a little bit, being that my man was fighting! After sending pics to about 5 different friends I decided on an outfit at the last minute on my own. Red skinny jeans and a black, sparkly peplum top. Boy, do I regret that choice.  Turns out, neither those jeans nor that top photograph very well. Oh well.

(these were my outfit choices)

After (finally) getting dressed, we packed everything into the car and headed to the venue. I had been dealing with "fight Chazz" all day so was making sure to be very calm, and patient (two things that I never am) as well as hide the crazy anxiety that I always get before he fights. Once we got there, he went straight to the back as I waited in the crazy long line to get in. I get in, find my 3rd row seat, greet my friends as they trickle in, and indulge in a couple vodka/crans (don't judge me- I was a nervous wreck). Chazz's mom led us in a group prayer before the first bout that actually made me feel really good. That should be a tradition. Although I'm not sure how many more fights she can take. 

The fights start and eventually Chazz's bout is next. We hear Johnny Cash blare through the speakers and we knew it was "go time." We went crazy cheering for him, and let me just tell you, the person that walked down that stage and into the ring was not the papa bear that I know- this was The Hybrid, for sure (his nickname). Anyway, it was a grueling match, my entire body was shaking viciously the whole time (sorry Jess and Jamie- I know I was probably grabbing ya'll the whole time) especially when we noticed how much be was bleeding from  his nose. Fast forward, Chazz "The Hybrid" Walton wins in the 3rd round with 20ish seconds left via arm bar!!!!! Once I knew he won, I pushed past my friends to stand in the aisle to make sure I got a picture of the referee raising his hand. 

As I take the pic, I immediately post to Facebook to let everyone know he won. While I am posting, I hear the emcee pass the mic to Chazz. At first confused, I just figured maybe they were interviewing all the advanced and pro fighters to kill time. I hear him say, "did ya'll enjoy that?" and I'm thinking- wow, this is all adrenaline, Chazz doesn't do public speaking. Then I hear, "I'd like to call someone very special inside the ring..... Megan, could you come inside the ring?" 

I am so confused. I started looking around and kept saying, "wait, what's happening?" Of course, no one would answer me and they just pushed me toward the ring while my brain is still trying to figure this out. As I walk up the wooden stairs, one of his corner men hold open the ropes and I say to him, "what's happening?" and he responds, 
"Just go with it."



Afraid I might break my neck in front of thousands of people, I ditch my heels and I step into the ring. Of course, Chazz wants me front and center and makes me come to him, in the very middle. I'm so awkward, I don't know what to do with my hands. I still have my cell phone hanging out of my front pocket and my wrislet dangling from my arm. I am also very aware of the blood I am most likely standing in. Chazz gets the crowd to cheer for me and before I know it, he is down on one knee. The crowd goes nuts- I now know what's happening. I immediately cover my mouth with my hands in shock, taking everything in. He then says,
 
"Megan Wilbourn, I've loved you since I met you.... (pulls out ring) Will you marry me?" 


I almost can't hear anything over the cheering, I pull him up from kneeling (because that was making me uncomfortable) and hug him, kiss him and his bloody face and of course- SAY YES! The emcee puts the mic in my face and asks me to scream my answer. My first thought was, I'm not doing that. And then, Megan, say something witty and clever. Thank GOD I just replied with "yes", because I don't make good jokes under pressure (see my "Ballin" blog post). 


So, we are now engaged and he gave me a ring inside a ring. He also told our good friend that he knows MMA is a selfish sport and he wanted to prove that he will always put me before everything and wanted to make the night about me. It was perfect. I am so lucky. ::end gushing::


Watch the proposal HERE!


Signed,
The Future Mrs. Walton

'Roid Rage (minus the 'roids)

Ok, so by now you all know I train BJJ (Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu if you haven't paid attention to anything at all). It's been the best/worst journey I have experienced thus far in life. 

It's been the best, because:

• I've lost 22lbs (and counting) having FUN
• I am able to use my competitive edge in a way that won't get me fired
• I get to train with my boyfriend
• I've made awesome friends
• I've pushed myself to limits I never knew existed
• I kind of feel like a BA
• I get to surprise people when I tell them I train
• I get to be an athlete again

It's been the worst, because:

• My body is always in turmoil, it seems (bruises, strained muscles, black eyes, etc)
• I've cried during training due to my competitive edge which is embarrassing
• Training with my boyfriend usually ends up with us at each other's throat
• I've hurt my friends and been hurt by friends (literally, not emotionally)
• I've felt defeated in ways I never knew existed
• I sometimes feel inadequate when I can't master something
• I participate in a sport that revolves around weight and I love food

Just to name a few. I will dedicate a whole post to BJJ when the time is right. 

Any who, training is a lifestyle. Especially when you decide to compete. If you want to win,  there are no days off. There are no "cheat days" (probably shouldn't have eaten my body weight in sushi last night). I tackle my 45 min commute from Marietta to North Druid Hills area every morning for work, leave at 6, get home to have just enough time to change clothes to head to Dallas for BJJ class. Basically, an 80 mile commute daily. On the days there isn't class, my boyfriend and I train at home. This particular day, there was no class  so we did just that. For some reason, I thought my bf was going to help me work out. Meaning, work mitts with me or give me a cardio circuit to do, or just push me. I didn't know he planned on working out, too. Now the attention was not just on me, as now on both of us. Because this was not how I mentally prepared this workout, I didn't handle it well. 

Now, with our vigorous training my boyfriend does sometimes take a pre/post workout booster that I am sometimes forced to take (and it's disgusting) in addition to my daily B-6 and B-12. I honestly am not sure what I took this day, but it definitely affected my mood. Maybe I mixed something I shouldn't have or  maybe just because I am a woman.Whatever the case,I pretty much went psycho  

I threw a minor tantrum in the garage which caused my boyfriend to cut his work out short and go inside the house. This was not the correct solution. Now I was alone in the garage (sauna suit and all) and not working out. I didn't want to hit our punching bag- I wanted to work mitts but because I was being so terrible Chazz was having none of it. At this point, he was cracking jokes from inside via text message and actually being kind of sweet. I was having none of that. I finally stormed inside to find he was leisurely watching TV with Bella while I was sulking. So, I did was any rational person would- I took the remote. And when he wouldn't let me go back into the garage, I went out the back door, walked completely around the house, crawled under the garage door that was halfway up and continued to sulk, now accompanied by the living room remote control. 

Expecting Chazz to come and make everything better, I was quite shocked when he just went upstairs and started watching TV in the bedroom. I stomped up the stairs, screamed something like, "You just need to work out with me RIGHT NOW!!" he told me, "you are acting crazy". Everyone knows you don't tell a crazy person that, so of course, I disagreed and he then said, "I am not doing anything until you apologize." 

The craziness took over at that point, rage running through my veins and I knew I had to unleash. My first instinct was to punch the wall, but for fear of breaking my hand I decided against that. See, rational even while irrational! Until.... I left the bedroom, went into hulk smash mode, and kicked the wall. Then cried. Then was consoled. Then apologized. It was quite the emotional roller coaster at our house. Poor Chazz. For the record, I did apologize profusely. 


Two Questions:

1. Any one know how to patch drywall?

and

2. Any one need a work out buddy?

Hulk-smash engage! Compliments of my size 6.5 foot

Why I Hate Pinterest

I just heard gasps as the title of this post was read. Yes, I put HATE and PINTEREST in the same sentence. Sure, there is enough on there to get you lost in thought for several hours. Sure, it will motivate you to get ripped and work out every morning/afternoon/night and then bake a triple layer chocolate mousse pie (I don't even know if there is such thing) when you've never baked before, then redecorate your whole home, and even do minor construction. Some of you do all those things, and it looks bad A. Some of you take an idea off Pinterest and turn it into even more of a magnificent creation. 

Why do I even have so many boards?

The problem is that Pinterest gives people like me false hope to be successful in the DIY/cooking/baking/decorating/hair-styling world. When I say, "people like me," I mean those of us that don't bake that well (or at all) or don't have these great visions on how to make your stairway look larger. Or those that don't have the patience to paint, cut, mod podge (I don't even know what that means), paper mache or whatever is on that site. I have no desire to cut up a shirt and actually wear it in public. Unless, of course, it's a shirt that was mandatory for me to wear for whatever reason. I am just not a fan of looking homeless. Although making a rug out of old t-shirts is pretty cool. But see, why would I seriously need to do that? 

Do you know what I did a few weeks ago? I made my own laundry detergent. Did you read that?

My loving sis

I made my own laundry detergent. For no other reason than I spent way too much time browsing Pinterest and I did get quite lost in the cleaning boards which only fueled my OCD and I went home and cleaned  everything with a baking soda/water mixture- it really does work. Anyway, I actually went out and purchased all of the supplies needed, and because I'm so impatient, I even decided to take on this endeavor on my hour lunch break. Which ended up being a terrible idea because as I was leaving Big Lots with my new detergent "kit," I  slipped on a banana peel outside. How is this my life? My boyfriend made several jokes about it- in fact, he actually asked me if anyone knew I was doing this. Coincidentally, my sister did, and when I told her I was making it she asked me if it was because I lost my job. No! It equals like 160 loads or something and when you're doing at least 1 load A DAY, it adds up! Luckily, I stopped myself from making fabric softener and shaving cream. I have to draw the line somewhere. 


Pinterest is misleading. Some of those tricks and ideas and creations are just unreasonable. At least for the people like myself that would rather buy a shelf to install rather than buy a 2x4, sand it, paint it, add glitter, toilet paper rolls and let it dry in the sun. Seriously, with the toilet paper rolls? Who keeps those?? 

Researched photography tips via Pinterest.
Windblown look- nailed it.

Maybe Pinterest is a God-send for the stay at home mom or house wife. Even on my days off, I just don't have the desire to cut up yarn and cardboard to make decor when I can just go buy it and be done. But hey, if you live your life utilizing the many ideas on Pinterest, more power to ya. I'll just keeping nailing every thing I attempt for you.

spooky chandelier look- nailed it. 

These Youngsters and their Social Media

Unfortunately, I haven’t had anything really exciting/embarrassing/hilarious happen to me lately. How BORING.

 About a month ago I expressed I had writer’s block and you guys were kind enough to give me some awesome suggestions. One of the topics suggested was my opinion on teenagers and social networking sites. Let me just say, I have repeatedly said to my friends, “thank GOD we didn’t have Facebook in high school. Could you imagine??”

I remember when I first joined; I had just graduated and had to use my college email to sign up. Then they just let all the riffraff in. I kid. Kinda. MySpace was big in that time, most likely because a lot of folks didn’t acquire a student email address for lack of attending college. Anyway, it still wasn’t huge until just out of high school, thankfully. I think back to all the drama that circled around grades 9-12 and to add social networking to that is just unthinkable. Hell, I still get sucked into social networking drama and I graduated, well, it doesn’t matter how many years ago.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a Facebook stalker, and this goes for MySpace, too (when people were actually using it). So you take someone like me, and give me public facebook/myspace/twitter,etc pages and add in the emotional distress of a teenage girl, you have a mild disaster. Not to mention, the nights I would sneak on the phone after my mom went to sleep or tell her I wanted to play “Snake” on her Nokia while really sending quick text messages. I would have been all over “doing my homework” but really all up in Facebook.

I don’t have children, but eventually when or if I do, I imagine this could be a struggle. You can’t really forbid your tween to be a part of what literally everyone (including yourself) is a part of because then you just have rebellion. I probably wouldn’t mind if my kid had a profile because I would know everything that is going on at all times (trust me, I would). Even if I couldn’t, with most everyone on the planet having accounts, I’m bound to find out what I need to. Although they say, don’t look for what you don’t want to find. Whoever “they” are, are out of their mind. I want the juice!

I imagine my niece, who is 4, having a Facebook page one day and if I saw her post some of the things I used to post, I would get in my car, drive straight to Kentucky and make her watch every season of Bad Girl’s Club or worse, Love & Hip Hop Atlanta so she could see what kind of future she was being promised. Then, she probably won’t listen because she’s an annoying teenager and then I’ll just have to bring her home with me and resort to some sort of alternate plan, I need to pump the brakes, I’m getting ahead of myself.

 I say this because, I was rowdy. I was extreme. I was at times an instigator. I would be passive aggressive toward people I know were seeing my posts/pics just to stir the pot. I would rub stuff in people’s faces. I would post pics of going out drinking all the time, still considering myself classy. I was “that girl”. Mostly because I was in my late teens/early 20’s and thought I had life figured out because I had my own apartment. Obviously, I have now grown up, and although I still get targeted via social media (and even by people my age which is just a little silly), it takes a lot for me to actually engage in any of it. At this point in my life I feel like if you have something to say about me and take to social media to do it; it says more about you than it does me. I don’t lose a wink of sleep from it and most of the times just laugh about it with my friends. However, if I was in high school, it would be different. I would probably call my mom 34 times at work with an “emergency” because of course, drama at that age can’t wait and is a life or death situation, then 3-way call my best girlfriends; rehearse how I would respond, have a few emotional breakdowns, etc.

Social media can be the demise of friendships, relationships, careers- at any age. I know most people would debate that, I have had the conversation about social media and relationships and although you trust your significant other 100%, it isn’t always about that. It’s about the other people that have no regard for relationships/marriages/friendships and intentionally do things for their own entertainment or to see how far they can get. Not to mention, with the birth of Facebook, the population has drastically increased with keyboard thugs. You know the ones; the people that LOVE to talk smack virtually, but wouldn’t dare SAY anything to a person’s face. We’re all human and we all get pushed to a certain point. I would be lying if I said nothing ever bothered me on Facebook. Granted, my initial reaction to things is usually a bit irrational and once I think logically, the thought dies right there.

Do I think it’s a good thing to have tweens/teens using social media? No. But then again I don’t’ agree with a 7 year old having a cell phone, either. Call me old fashioned. I have a new respect for parents with children going through puberty and also having social networking accounts. If my kid is anything like me, and inherits my smart mouth, I’m in for a world of trouble.

A Lil Catch Up

Hi, web friends/readers.

I have been awful at neglecting you guys. Lots of changes happening (which I will fill you in) and therefore keeping me away from my blog.

I don't have a particular story for you today so I figured I'd just give you a peek on what's been going on with me.

For starters, I started a new job! After about 2 years at the previous hell hole I was offered a position 6 miles from home, total commute of 15 minutes with traffic! After sending an epic email to my boss regarding my "final thoughts" I flew outta there and gave myself a little vacay before the new job.

I was familiar with the new property, I knew it was a little rough but was ready for the challenge. So I thought. My first day as I'm touring the community with my new manager, SWAT team happened to be suiting up in the parking lot. Was that a red flag? Sure, but as we know, I don't really pay attention to those things. I didn't ask questions and we just steered clear of the team. Caught up in conversation we made the wrong turn in our golf cart and ended up riding past the building where SWAT had their guns drawn. I just kept thinking, "really?" "On my first day?" and, "I'm gonna be pissed if I get shot, I have plans tonight." I survived the first day, getting cussed out a few times by irate residents who happen to see me as a real easy target to go ham on (but looks can be deceiving, my friend). I returned the second day only to find the local police back again, this time due to a domestic dispute which ended up in some poor fool getting tazed trying to jump one of our fences.

After telling my boyfriend these instances over the next few days, he surprised me with a gift. He is just so thoughtful, I thought it was the sweetest thing to get me something because he knew I was struggling with my new endeavor. The "surprise" wasn't the type of gift I was expecting... it was a taser. A hot pink, 7 million-volt taser. To keep on me at all times. This might take the cake on being over-protective, but after a lesson on how to use/charge and not accidentally tase myself, I am armed and ready!

Luckily, I have not had to use it and hope I never have to. Although if I do, I hope someone gets it on video. And that it's not on a day where I overslept and didn't have time to do my hair.

In other news, I have started taking BJJ (Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu). I figured if my boyfriend is such a beast at it, surely I'll have the upper hand considering I can get lessons whenever I want. HA! Well if that wasn't so far from the reality of it. I want to get more experience under my belt (my white belt, that is) before blogging too much about it. I can say that I am learning a lot about myself in the process and just how competitive I really am, and how I handle pain (surprisingly well, until I get home). I still curl my hair before almost every class, I don't know if that will ever change. And I did get a pretty sweet GI, even if I don't do it justice.. yet.

I promise I'll brainstorm some new material for you, in the meantime I hope this will suffice.


-M

répondez, s'il vous plaît

In other words, the title of this post simply means, RSVP or, please reply. Although I don't know that I should include the word, "simply" because it seems like the task of replying to an invitation is quite the opposite.


An RSVP is to let the host/hostess know if you accept or decline the invitation. In fact, etiquette rules suggest that if you receive a formal, written invitation, you should respond that day. With Evite and Facebook Events being so commonly used, same day replies are not always necessary. Why feel obligated to respond? Well, this is why:


Let's get practical. Parties, gatherings, weddings, etc. all cost money. Obviously, the host would need to know how much food or drinks to provide to ensure there is enough for everyone, or to make sure not to go overboard. I mean, duh. More importantly, if I was nice enough to invite you to a shindig I'm throwing- have enough decency to reply to the invite!


This has been a frequent battle for me, people not sending their RSVP, or not caring enough to commit to their RSVP. Example, I decided to throw my boyfriend a surprise birthday party this year. I sent the Evite out three weeks in advance as to give adequate time for people to commit- or decline. What happened? I found myself reaching out to people I hadn't heard from. That should never happen! To make matters worse, some people I reached out to would tell me, "Yeah, I should be there." Well, you should doesn't mean you will. And in this case, should meant won't.


On the other hand, I had people RSVP right away and was ecstatic! Until, certain people bailed the day of, mere hours before the party and didn't even bother to tell me. They either sent a message through another party-goer or I just didn't hear anything, still expecting them. This was particularly frustrating because it was a surprise party. Meaning, if people were going to just be late, I needed to know, to stall the birthday boy. Or, if they weren't coming at all, I knew the show could go on.

Long story short, I spent money to accommodate those that did RSVP. So to the ones that RSVP'd and didn't show- you're real jerks. Yeah, you. And you owe me money.

Moral of the story- whether you accept or decline, we don't care as long as you let us know your decision!

By the way, we are still throwing our fight party, so if you plan on attending- RSVP to the invite!

Wow, I feel so much better.

White Girl Problems

This will probably be one of my longest blog posts, so you don't have to read the whole thing, although it would be nice of you. This idea came to me while having a convo with a co-worker who ended one of my sentences with, "white girl problems."

I attempted an at-home self tan and it was disastrous, I was super streaked and looked dirty. White girl problems.

I wanted to change my hair, so I decided to go platinum. Then I went swimming with my newly bleached hair and it turned green. $50 later on hair products and I'm still trying to fix the tone. White girl problems.

Being the only white girl in an online chat with some co-workers I referred to a collegue as being the HNIC (I typed it just like that, I didn't spell anything out). He told me I didn't know him like that. White girl problems.

I went to Six Flags and my boyfriend got a super nice tan, I got sunburned through my T-shirt. White girl problems.

I got a pair of sneakers and thought I was completely "swagged out" then it was brought to my attention you don't keep the stock laces in. White girl problems.

Being called Becky all night at a club with your black friends. White girl problems.


THEN, I stumbled across this blog post, "Stuff White People Like" and decided to add some commentary (and drastically shorten the list).

Picking Their Own Fruit- I can't really speak on this one personally, but I have to say, I don't really see many other races getting into that. In America, anyway.
Camping- I actually loathe camping and made a vow to never do it again. White people have it wrong.
Hating People That Wear Ed Hardy- Well that's because no one should ever wear it. Ever. That's so 2004.
Sea Salt- yep, my boyfriend just had me buy some.
Ugly Sweater Parties- I have never attended one, but I do only see pictures of white people that do that.
Black Music that Black People Don't Listen to Anymore- I think this mostly applies to older, white people. My boss is guilty of this. I.E. she busted out in "Love in the Mouth" the other day proud of herself. Blank stare.
Promising to Learn a New Language- I say I'm going to learn Spanish and Portuguese like, every month. It's true.
America- I mean, who doesn't love America?
Halloween- Halloween is my all-time FAVORITE holiday! I'll be a stereotype for Halloween, yo.
Hummus- Hummus is delicious.
Frisbee Sports- I don't do Frisbees. Bella doesn't either. I guess my black friends rubbed off on me in the outdoor sports department
Self Aware Hip Hop References- I don't really have a response to this one.
Children’s Games as Adults- OK The Game of Life will always be fun and I am reigning Checkers champ. Period.
Being Offended - Well, that's offensive.
Grammar- For the love of God, learn the difference between your and you're! Also, there's no X in  "ask"
Scarves- I do have a lot of scarves..only wore one of them. Once.
Dinner Parties- I love to entertain. So there.
St. Patrick’s Day- an excuse to party and drink? White people are there. Even if we aren't Irish (not all white people are)
Bottles of Water - because water is important and why get it for free when you can buy a bottle that can give you cancer?
Threatening to Move to Canada - I have had this discussion with my grandmother. Shocker.
Oscar Parties - I say I'm going to have one every year. I'll admit it. No one really seems interested. I need more white friends
Being the only white person around- Well ya know, for some people this just comes naturally. AKA, I'm fine with being the token at most events
Expensive Sandwiches- I will pay $7 for a sandwich at Panera Bread, with an iced Green Tea, please.
 Bicycles- you obviously haven't seen that episode of Family Hustle. TI and Tiny dropped 10k at a bicycle shop.
Toyota Prius- white people WHY must you love the Prius?
Lawyers- I feel like there's something oddly satisfying about threatening to call your attorney. If you actually have one.
Kitchen Gadgets- Does a Crock Pot count? Because I just got one and I have been rockin' dinner.
Dogs- I JUST LOVE DOGS! They are the best pet to have EVER!!
Sushi- Spicy Tuna, please. With a side of Edamame.
Apple Products- iPhone 5, where ARE you?
Vegan/Vegetarianism- sigh.. been there. Proud PETA member.
80s Night-I hate 80's parties and 80's music. But my white friends love all things 80's.
Wine- Sangria, Riesling, Pinor Noir, Pino Grigio, Cab Sav- yep.
Traveling- my most favorite thing to do.
Yoga- I suck at Yoga and personally, I hate it. But my white friends swear by it.
Having Black Friends- I do love having black friends, but not because they're black. And no one can ever call me a racist. bonus.
Tea- Grande Chai, please.


**Thanks to: http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/full-list-of-stuff-white-people-like/
And again to Mishella for the idea

Pet Peeves

Honestly, I'm in a rather irritable mood today. I'm not sure if it's the weather or the result of not sleeping well or the fact that the English muffin I was looking oh so forward to was covered in mold. Whatever the case may be, I decided that my mood was a suitable one to blog about a few of my pet peeves. Let's jump right into it, shall we?

1. When People Insult My Food.
I'm not a picky eater. I used to be a pescetarian (which is a vegetarian that eats seafood), but I now eat chicken and occasionally turkey. I know, I suck. Anyway, I don't eat pork or beef and haven't in years. Because of that, I enjoy tofu as a substitute. The other day at work, Moe's catered for some pointless staff lunch (which took my hour away from that place) and I requested tofu for my plate (their tofu bowls are delish). My boss, who is actually infamous for this, makes this HUGE deal about it. "What does it taste like, why does it look like that" etc. I encouraged everyone to try it (mostly so they would stop asking me questions). As I'm finishing my boss comes up to me, mid-bite, with her nose turned up broadcasting how it tastes like cardboard and she doesn't know how anyone can eat that. I find that so rude! People, if someone around you is eating something that you normally wouldn't, just let them live their life! I'm not going in on you for eating baby pigs and Cows.. so don't knock my choices.

2. Loud Eaters
I know I've already touched on people that smack their food so I won't go into detail there, since it's self-explanatory. Don't do it. Also, please refrain from scraping your teeth on your fork! Isn't it painful? You've got to be taking off some enamel when doing that. You aren't in prison, you don't need to be in such a rush to eat..

3. Bahahaha
I just feel like, when I laugh, there are no hints of "B" in my chuckle. Therefore, I don't understand why people insist on typing, "bahahaha". You sound like a sheep!

4. HBD
In case you were wondering, "HBD" is the new Happy Birthday. Let me just say, whoever wishes me a "hbd" on facebook or via text, is no longer my friend. That is the laziest thing I have ever witnessed! ILY for I love you also applies. Abbreviations are just for a-holes.

5. Your/You're
For the love of God, please get it right! I don't know what it will take for people to understand this grammatical error. You're= you are. This is elementary!

6. Standing in Line
Standing in line is already annoying, but what about the people that stand practically on your heels? Do they think that it's going to get them closer to checking out? Or are they trying to see what I have in my hands? I don't understand, and it makes me paranoid. Back up!

7. Facebook Hijacking
There are many annoyances that go along with facebook, but I really don't love when people hijack a picture or status. Example: I post something and two other people start having a completely unrelated conversation. Which also leads to me getting a ton of notifications and my thunder has completely been stolen.

8. Wet Towels
I hate when wet bath towels are left on the floor. Then the carpet is wet and the towel usually mildewed. There is nothing worse then a mildewed bath towel!

9. Summer Shoes with Winter Feet
Ladies and gents- if you're busting out flip flops or sandals, please make sure your feet are appropriately groomed for this attire.

10. Inconsiderate Drivers
If you have been waiting for someone to let you out or to let you over for what seems like days, and I take the liberty of doing a good deed for you, wave and thank me! It takes two seconds and if it wasn't for me you'd still be stuck wherever you were, becoming that much later for wherever you have to be so show some gratitude!

OK, I think that about sums it up for now and has surprisingly helped my mood. There will most definitely be a part II for this, but for now, have a great day and remember to thank your fellow commuters.

Angels

I know I usually try to post funny/embarrassing stories but today I'm switching gears. I want to share an experience that happened to me recently and open up a bit to all you loyal readers.


As most of you know, I lost my dad to cancer October 2008. Although this year will mark 4 years, it still seems as if it happened yesterday. If you've ever lost someone close to you, you know that nothing can prepare you for the emotions and heartache that accompanies it. Even if you knew it was coming. We knew that my dad's time was limited, but even then, more time was initially predicted. My dad was adamant about not having a sad memorial service. He said he wanted it to be a party. He wanted everyone in the immediate family to pick a song for the memorial to accompany the song he chose, Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird" -which is now one of my favorite songs, because it connects me to him, even if it's bittersweet and is difficult to not get emotional when I hear it.

I still struggle with the loss of my dad on a regular basis, and miss him everyday. I still hope for signs from him, I still talk to him. I still have his number in my cell phone. I still replay conversations in my head. I wonder what would be different if he were still here. I think about all the important milestones in my life he will miss. I still get jealous that my sister had him to walk her down the aisle, and that he got to meet her first born knowing I'll never have that. I still get angry sometimes and wonder how any of this was fair. I also know that God has a plan, even when we don't understand it and that everything happens for a reason.

Losing my dad caused me to handle a lot of things the wrong way. I didn't know how to "grieve" and I don't think I wanted to, so I chose to distract myself. I put 150% into a relationship that wasn't healthy and lost myself in that process. No matter how that relationship ended, I will always be thankful that he was there for me, when he didn't have to be, as I went through the hardest thing I have ever gone through (thus far). One of the reasons that relationship lasted longer than it should have was because I knew that he would always be the last boyfriend to meet my dad. That was important to me and I held on to it for entirely too long.

As I entered a new relationship (hi, love), one of the things that was constantly in the back of my mind was how my dad would like him. Although I knew my dad would love him, mostly because he makes me happy, I still wondered what their encounter would be like. Would they understand each other's humor? Would they have a lot in common? Would my dad approve? I came to terms with the fact I would never know the answers to those questions and decided to follow my heart with the feeling that my dad would approve and be happy for me.

My boyfriend Chazz is a mixed martial arts fighter (that's an entirely different blog post in itself) and if you don't know anyone that does the sport, then I can't really explain or describe what all is involved. Let's just say that when fight week rolls around, things get stressful. Fight week is typically when Chazz is cutting weight (which could basically mean starving/dehydrating yourself to make sure you weigh in at your fight weight, which is typically anywhere from 5-25 pounds from your walk around weight depending on the weight class you're fighting in) which is not a fun process. People tend to get irritable when they don't eat in case you didn't know. And because I'm such a supportive/awesome girlfriend- I cut weight with him. Meaning, if he can't eat, I don't. If he has to run the neighborhood in his sauna suit, I suit up in sweats and hit the pavement with him. If he has to sit in a car with the heat on in 70 degree weather- I'm in the passenger seat (thankfully that was only one time). If he doesn't have anyone to spar with, we move the cars out of the garage, I put on my pink boxing gloves and his hideous headgear and try my best to keep up. When he can't drive to weigh ins the day before due to dehydration, I arrange my schedule and get him there (even when they are in Athens or Alabama). I admire his dedication so I make a point to not only say I support him, but show him by being by his side during the entire process. However, being human, the stress weighs heavily on me as well, which causes us to have a short fuse with each other and be a little more... snappy than usual. Then it's fight time, and everything that goes into that moment is all worth it.

Chazz's first fight was in Athens (won in the first round-no big deal). Athens obviously wasn't ideal, because it wasn't exactly close (and it's home of UGA which disgusts me since I'm a GATOR), but anything UGA/Bulldawgs/Athens, etc will always remind me of my dad. My dad was the biggest, most obnoxious GA fan that ever lived, no joke. The moment Chazz and I hit downtown Athens (which was by accident I think) "Free Bird" came on the radio. Call me crazy, but the odds of that song coming on at that moment in downtown Athens could only mean one thing- my dad was there. I carried that feeling throughout the weekend and like to think he was with Chazz during his fight.

That kind of sign has never happened to me before. Fast forward to this past weekend, Chazz had a fight in Tuscaloosa. This time, I would be in his corner. I was a nervous wreck. I'm always nervous before, I mean, some other guy is getting in a cage with my boyfriend with the intention to physically harm him and anything can happen. I was trying to keep my nerves under control to be encouraging and calm for him as he warmed up/prepared for his fight. We arrived at the venue with the other fighters around 4:30pm anticipating the start time of 7:00. As 7:00 grew closer, the DJ started playing music to get the crowd going and get ready for the first fight of the night. Suddenly, there was a huge change in the dub step music as Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird" randomly came over the speaker system. My body froze in disbelief almost thinking I was hearing things then I heard a nearby fighter say, "wow, they're playing Lynyrd Skynyrd." Then it was turned off, almost as if it was played by mistake.

I looked at Chazz in shock and this overwhelming calm came over me. I no longer felt like I was going to vomit from nerves and my uncontrollable shaking seemed to cease. My dad was there. And he was telling me everything was ok. I couldn't understand why I was getting these signs only at Chazz's fights. There have been so many times when I was having a hard day or needed his advice and nada. Then it made sense. My dad knows his approval is important and he wants me to know he supports me. Even better, he supports Chazz. Call me crazy, but I just think it's too much of a coincidence so I'm gonna rock with it.

I love you, dad. I miss you everyday, but I know that you are with me more than I realize.

Here's Your Hat...

One of the worst things that can happen is to have a guest over that won't leave. At least for me because I'm too nice and will say just about anything but, "you gotta go."

I have always struggled with this scenario, being socially awkward I never knew how to politely and effectively end my guest's visit. What I would normally do is start yawning uncontrollably (if it's late) which would be a pretty clear indicator that I am tired, and one should leave. If that didn't work, which has happened several times, I start cleaning. If we have had something to eat or drink, I take any applicable dishes to the kitchen, load the dishwasher, wipe down the counters, etc. Sometimes the hint gets picked up, other times they might offer to help, or just continue to watch TV assuming I have some sort of OCD and can't relax if there is a mess (partially true).

If my unwanted guest is still hanging around, I take Bella outside. Everyone knows once you take your dog outside at night, that's the last chance they get before bed. Meaning, it's bedtime. Visit over. I usually have a blanket on my couch at all times because it can get cold in my living room so one of the final measures is always to fold the blanket and put it in it's storage place, therefore eliminating any sort of comfort or relaxation. The whole time during this process I am usually saying things like, "I am so tired," "It's already 12? I'm going to be so tired in the morning," "What a long day this was" so on an so forth.

Unfortunately, I have had to do all these things in one night. In fact, every time this person came over we would go through this. He would never pick up on the hints! I would cringe a little bit when he came over because almost immediately upon arrival he would take his shoes off (for comfort- not because I require it). I knew I was doomed at that point.

I may not pay attention to as much as I should, but I pay attention to social cues and body language. I can't speak for women who wear out their welcome because I have never been one to do that, but guys- get the hint! If you have had a nice visit and there are no other plans, excuse yourself and let the lady breathe. We can't miss you if you never leave, ya know.

Helpful hint, if your gracious hostess has dealt with you lingering around for what seems like hours and you finally decide to leave, don't call once you get down the street and ask to stay the night! Here's a clue, if she wanted you to, she wouldn't have walked you to her door at lightning speed. Also, that really puts someone on the spot and if she's polite, she won't want to hurt your feelings so she will make up some excuse because she's under pressure. I just would expect any future "get togethers" to be in public. In separate cars.

As I read through this, I realize how much I don't miss dating.



Thanks to C- you always got the social cues, ironically, I never sent you any.

Operation Repo

In case you haven't noticed by now, the most unfortunate things happen to me. I swear, you can't make this stuff up. In fact, I wish some of the things I blog about were made up! On to my next unfortunate story.

After working one day, I believe it was on a Sunday, I discovered that I couldn't start my car. For some reason, the steering wheel was locked, the key wouldn't turn and I couldn't get it out of park. After struggling for what seemed like eternity, youtubing, googling and eventually calling for help (which ended up being no help other than a ride home), I left my car stranded at my office in Sandy Springs in hopes to have a plan by morning.

After doing some research, I discovered that my particular car has a security feature that when it thinks it's being broken into, it shuts down and you have to use your secondary key since the owner of the vehicle should have two keys. Of course, most owners would have 2 car keys. I don't. Which meant I needed to purchase a new one. Of course, I didn't know that a new key was the solution until I had arranged for a tow truck to come and take my car to the closest mechanic, which was none other than Sandy Springs RBM aka rip off city (who charged me somewhere around $375 for a key. Plus the $80 it costs just to walk in the door -that's neither here nor there).

The tow truck shows up, and the driver explains to me that he doesn't have the "right" truck because my car can't be put into neutral because it's locked and explains that he would be forced to drag my car to RBM. Well, that clearly was not going to work for me so I opted to wait for the appropriate truck. He leaves and I wait hours for the next driver to show up. The next tow truck finally shows up and it's this huge flat bed. As the driver sets up to rescue my car, he blocks the flow of traffic since I am parked right in front of the office. A line of cars is starting to back up as everyone starts looking confused/concerned as to what is going on. Some are even rolling down their windows asking if I'm OK. I am standing to the side, a nervous wreck that my car is going to get damaged somehow as my co-worker is standing next to me, patting my back to comfort me and prevent any potential anxiety attacks.

My car finally gets hooked up and I'm forced to climb into this monster of a truck to commute to the mechanic. As I'm taking in everything that is happening, I see one of my residents running along side the parking lot attempting to flag us down. We stop, I roll down the window, and he says to me, "Ya'll doin a repo??" I gasp in shock because I couldn't believe someone would assume that (not to metioned I am offended) and say, "well, NO.. this is my car and it just won't start!" to which he responds with, "Oh ok, I was about to say, lemme go hide my car then!"

I'm pretty sure I just had a blank stare on my face while thinking, where do I work?? Although working in property management, I can't tell you how many residents over the years have come into my office irate that their car has been stolen, when it actually was repossessed. Talk about embarrassing (for them). So I take a step back and think about the events that just occured and it dawns on me that now all of my residents, current and potential, totally think my car was just repossed at my workplace. That's pretty humilating. To make matters worse, the loaner car RBM gave me was a some kind of Huyandai, which totally did not help it seem like I lost my car due to financial stuggles.

Luckily, my car was returned to me the next day so if my residents/co-workers think I was going through a financial hardship, hopefully it seemed like I got it resolved right away.

Word to the wise, own two sets of car keys!

Adult Supervision Required

Kids don't love me. I'm not really sure why. I know I have little patience and I will argue with just about anything, but before a kid even knows that about me they have already predetermined they don't like me. I have had a few kids take to me, but the majority are just real terrors.

What concerns me is that I have gotten into several verbal altercations with children. Some of which even turned physical. Don't judge me, this little brat ran up and kicked me in the shin, you would have pushed him down, too. Anyway, I think the problem is that I try to reason with children. Much like trying to reason with a drunk person, you don't get very far because they don't understand nor do they want to.

I used to get into physical fights with my best friend's little sister (who is 7 years younger than us) and then lie and tell her mom we were having a dance battle which was causing all the thumping. Blood was definitely drawn more than once. In my defense, she used to be a real asshole. She was the little kid that said whatever she wanted with no filter (like most kids), to the point I was hesitant to go over there to play in fear of being humiliated. Probably why I tricked her into chugging hot sauce when she was around 8. I also tried to teach the neighborhood kids how to correctly play soccer, then they all ganged up on me by mocking how I did throw-ins. I ended up kicking their soccer ball into the woods and then storming home.

OK, the shin thing. I was showing an apartment to a family of what seemed like 28, one of the members being around 3 years old. He definitely had ADHD. He was running around like a crazy person, being completely ignored by his parents, and at first I thought he was cute. I smiled, even pretended to chase him a little bit. Then he went full on beast mode, and started running circles around me and then would push me and run away. The next time he did it, I bucked at him when his parents weren't looking because I was getting angry. I guess he figured I really tested him with that so he sprinted up to me and kicked me as hard as he could in the shin. So I pushed the crap out of him. He fell down, and then gave me this look of terror with eyes that said "why would you do that to me? I'm just a little boy" and then his eyes welled up with tears. I knew what was coming, so I glared at him and told him he better not. Too late. He burst into tears and hysterically ran to find his mom in one of the bedrooms. I was able to beat him to her and conclude the tour- shifting the focus. That kid never came near me again.

One time my 3 year old niece said she didn't want to play with me, to the extent she put herself in time-out so she didn't have to! When she finally came around, she was playing some game alone, flailing around when her shirt-sleeve somehow got pushed up. She spun around so fast and said to me, "Don't push my sleeve up like that!" Well, I was shocked, for one. I didn't touch her sleeve! So I told her, "um, I didn't push your sleeve up... but I could have if I wanted to." Then she went and told my sister on me. Who does that?

I was playing with my friend's son several years ago. We were actually getting along, I think we were play wrestling (looking back now I see maybe that wasn't the best idea). Anyway, I ended up dislocating something in his arm or shoulder and I think they had to seek medical attention.... He's fine now.

Kids are always telling me not to do something. I don't take well to that. Don't tell me what to do, little kid! This is usually what prompts an argument. Kids don't understand I can do what I want. Including telling them what to do. I'm also way too competitive with children but if you've read my blog post, "Winning" then you get it.

So, who needs a babysitter?

It's All Fun & Games Until Someone Loses a Leg

I like fashion. I like dressing up. I seem to annoy people with my wardrobe choices, at times. Let me explain, I don't ever wear sneakers. Unless I'm going to the gym. I don't have anything against sneakers, and I think it's great when a girl can rock them. I'm not one of those girls. For one, being only 5'3'', I need the height. Secondly, I only own skinny jeans. They're my favorite and the most comfortable (to me) but sneakers and skinny jeans? Negative.


So basically, I wear heels everywhere. Even the grocery store. Usually accompanied by skinny jeans. This past weekend was no different as I decided to get a pedicure while waiting on the boyfriend to finish training. I accompanied one of the other fighter's wife to a nail salon near by. The thought crossed my mind about being able to raise up my jeans, but I had done it before and didn't see the need to worry. Forgetting that it was the first time I had worn these particular jeans to get a pedicure.


Once my jeans got halfway up my calf, I felt some pressure, but it was too late. I was already here, OPI color in hand, massage chair kneading, I had to push through and get my jeans up. I was able to pull them to my knees, making a joke that I thought my circulation was being cut off. Toward the end of the pedicure, I did experience some discomfort and tried to adjust accordingly. That was the point that I realized there would be no adjusting at all, my jeans were so tight. I figured I would just have to wait until the nail technician finished so that I could utilize both hands, and not risk messing up her work by making any sudden movements.


I noticed that my leg was starting to turn slightly purple, so I began trying to work it however I could to loosen the death grip my jeans had on me. They weren't budging. I was laughing about it, to disguise my panic, then the nail tech jumped in to helped and she laughed with me, too. Then she gave up. Then I really started to panic. I could feel my face flush and the temperature start to rise. What was I going to do? Cut myself out of my jeans??


My new friend suggested I stand up and try to pull my jeans down. That failed. Then she said, "I'm sure the guys have some scissors at the gym we can use!" to which I responded, "I can't go back to the gym like this!" Could you imagine? I would have died if I had to walk back into the gym with these new death-capris and ask my boyfriend to CUT them off of me. I knew what had to be done. I needed to go into the bathroom and reenact the Friends episode where Ross can't get his leather pants back on and has to use any substance surrounding him. As I was looking around the bathroom for baby powder, lotion, oils, I was shocked to find myself in a salon bathroom with none of the mentioned items! In fact, it looked like a supply room for a pool, but that's neither here nor there.


I knew it was do or die time. I had to manage to pull these suckers down, or risk public humiliation and sacrifice my favorite jeans. I took a deep breath, and prepared for battle. I actually had to take my jeans off, and attempt to use the legs to be able to get them un-stuck. A few minutes, and several expletives later, I got them down to my ankles. I ignored the pain and walked out as if if was never a big deal to begin with (when in reality, I had been having a full-blown meltdown internally). My pedicure was a success, my jeans are still in tact, and I have some of my dignity left.



I wouldn't quite say the pain was worth it. I should've opted for sneakers and sweats that day. Don't worry, the bruising is much better now and the red/purple rings faded after about 12 hours.

Signs Your Current Should Be Your Ex- Part I

Love is blind.

Actually, love isn't blind at all because you can clearly see who you're dating. However, when you love/care for someone, you often willingly ignore those little things called red flags. We all think people can change, which they can, but not because you want them to. People change because they want to. Yes, we want to be the reason someone changes for the better but you're just in for a let down and a waste of your time if that's what you're striving for.

It's never a good feeling to look back at past relationships and think, "what was I thinking?" or "I shouldn't have ignored that.."

But, it happens. And hopefully, if anything, it makes for a great story. Even at your own expense.

1). Lack of Education.
Education is important. Everyone has different standards for this topic, to each their own. I'm not necessarily saying you should only date ivy league graduates or students, I'm saying you should strive to date someone with a high school diploma or, at the very least, a G.E.D. Life happens, I get it. Who am I to judge? All I'm saying is that you can't really expect to get far in life without some sort of high school completion. Preferably, before you hit your mid-20's.....

2). Lack of Career.
When you hit a certain age, certain jobs are not acceptable unless you are in school. There is a difference between a job and a career. If you are doing something because you genuinely love it and want to grow in that industry, then more power to you. If you're doing something because you're lazy or you couldn't find anything else, it's time to reevaluate. I get times are hard, and jobs are hard to come by. Anything is better than nothing, as long as you're at least still actively job hunting. Unless your criminal record prevents you from doing so. In that case, I would say to reevaluate your relationship because that could be as good as it's going to get.

3). Unrealistic and/or Embarrassing Goals.
Being a rapper is not realistic. At least it's not realistic for me to date an aspiring "rapper"(....anymore). Everyone in Atlanta is involved in some sort of music, modeling, promoting, producing, etc. Unless you have some sort of buzz and have done something at least kind of impressive, do not tell me that's what you're doing with your life. White rappers- even more ridiculous. At least once you're past your mid-20's. Now, if you are serious about your craft and talented, then you should absolutely be pursuing your goal. You aren't passionate about something if you aren't willing to put in the work to get it.

4). Questionable Phone Calls
Um, if you find Quest or other such dating hot lines on the family plan you share with your boyfriend, I wouldn't recommend continuing that relationship. Especially if it continues on a regular basis.

5). Dating Profiles
If a friend calls you to tell you that they just happened to come across your boyfriend on a dating site, it's time to move on.

6). Public Dates
When you run into your boyfriend at a bar with another girl. During guys night. That's supposed to be taking place in a different town. Do I need to go further?

7). Over Emotional
If your boyfriend thinks it's OK to tell you that his bad day has led him to sitting on the floor eating ice cream while crying, or does nothing but quote female song lyrics on social networking sites, or gets emotional over Taylor Swift (literally), I would say it's safe to say he should become an ex, with the great possibility he might like your guy friends.

8). Solicitation.
If you should find that your boyfriend has been creating Craigslist Ads for "casual encounters" under an alias and also exploring the men seeking men section, I'm pretty sure what you have to offer does not interest him.

9). Has the Ex-Factor
If your current boyfriend/girlfriend still communicates with their ex, cut ties immediately. If they say "oh he/she's crazy and won't leave me alone," run even faster. The only reason an ex will still call/text/email is because they still get a response.

10). Openly Flirtatious
If you are out with your significant other, you shouldn't flirt with the opposite sex. Duh. If you run into someone you know, introduce your man/woman! Don't stand there and have an entire conversation with someone and completely ignore your beau. Ladies, don't let other guys buy you drinks while you're out with your man, it's incredibly disrespectful. You wouldn't want your man buying other girls drinks while he's with you. Regardless of how you know them. Unless you're doing a group shot or someone is buying an entire round, politely decline the offer and save yourself an argument.

Some of these might sound completely ridiculous. I would be lying if I said I wasn't involved in any of these scenarios.

I appreciate my current beau more than ever. Thank you for being normal. So far.

-M

**Special thanks to Mishella for helping me out with this and laughing with me. Also, great thanks to all the losers I've dated. You make for awesome laughs at parties.**