sunny side of life

Ok, so those of you who know me in real life (and really anyone else whose been reading long enough) knows that if Vera Bradley puts it out, I usually want it.

That included her china patterns, so when I registered for my wedding, I registered for the Java Blue (the Vera flava of the week) china. Except I’m not so crazy about the elephant on the dessert plate, coffee mug, or soup bowl, and so I decided that I didn’t really want any of the porcelain china, just the majolica china in the java blue color. (My logic behind that was that it didn’t make sense to me to only have a porcelain dinner plate and everything else majolica).

Fast forward a bit. I didn’t actually get much of my china. Just some dinner plates, a cake stand, a charger or 2 and the vase that matches it all. I really love(d) it……until, I saw this, which is stunning. (This is the Majolica that goes with it) Plus, I would still be able to paint my dining room (the one that’s in the house that I don’t have yet) chocolate brown, which was something I planned to do to coordinate with the other china.

So my question to you dear internets is this:

What the heck should I do?

Do I sell what I have (except for the vase, you can never have too many GORGEOUS vases) on ebay and delve into (slowly) purchasing the other stuff since it’s obvious that I love it so much?

I haven’t used any of what I have even once AND I still have the original boxes that it all came in. It’s actually all being stored in the boxes as we speak!

Enlighten my as to what my next steps should be friends, for I am lost!

(Although, I’m sure you all know what I really want to do, and that I really just need you to validate what I’m feeling. So go ahead, give me the answer that I want….)

I am in fact alive after the concert-going. I suppose I should have mentioned that I went on vacation with my family last week after I returned from the concert.

Oh, what a stressful life I lead.

So anyway, you want to hear about the concert, right?

Here goes.

Eight hours is a long time to travel, even when there aren’t whining screaming children in-tow to make the trip seem even longer. Seriously, when I have kids, we’ll either fly or we won’t vacation at all. I can’t imagine driving what seems like an eternity all the while hearing “Mommy, are we there yet?” or worse “She’s touching me!”.

Not that Lemons is bad company or anything, quite the contrary. The first 85,ooo,000,000 miles of our trip were filled with interesting conversation about the anticipation of child-birth for her, and how I plan on resisting “the urge” once her bun pops out of the oven. But only so many topics of conversation can be broached before there’s just nothing to talk about. And trust me, there’s no one I’d rather talk about nothing with than her, so you know we covered it all.

After the other 85,000,000,000 miles, we reached our destination, and the only slightly-irritable-because-she’s-pregnant Lemons exclaimed “We’re staying in the ghetto!!” (As an aside, it really wasn’t the ghetto, it just wasn’t as nice as the place that we stayed last year, which may as well have been the Hilton Suite at the Hilton with a prime location just minutes from the concert site. However, as previously mentioned, Lemons is slightly-irritable-because-she’s-pregnant. I love you Lemons, but you know it’s true) We proceeded to go into the not-as-nice-as-last-year lobby and check in with the not-as-nice-as-last-year receptionist, who sent us up the not-as-nice-as-last-year elevator to our rooms that were, well, not as nice as last year. I’m not so sure what we did after that but something about The Real World re-runs enters my mind.

The next day we woke relatively early (”I didn’t sleep so well, last year was better.”) and went off to get our nails did by the local Vietnamese ladies who didn’t do as well as last year’s Vietnamese ladies. Afterwards we went back to our hotel to pretty ourselves up for a man who will never give either of us the time of day.

The concert started at 7:30 and so, we figured (for some strange reason, which in retrospect, doesn’t make much sense) that we would get to the concert at 7:00. We seemed to have forgotten that we had to pick up our tickets from the “will call” window, which of course had a line the length of which rivaled the Mississippi. We didn’t get our tickets until 8:00 and therefore missed the opening act Taylor Swift. (Isn’t she sickeningly adorable? I just love her hair and am positive that mine would never look that good, even with a team of professionals. I think that she’s possibly the only girl I would allow my brother to date simply because she’s not a waste of his pretty.) Anyway we were pretty bummed that we missed her, and by pretty you should read very and by bummed you should read irrate, but you know, take it as you want it.

We were, from that moment on, in lovely moods until security allowed us to go up to the stage to watch Brad perform. I don’t need to be pregnant to be slightly irritable.

When Brad came on, all of my troubles melted away as he pretty much can’t put on a bad show. It’s just not in him.

The highlight of the evening was when some random chick hopped up on the stage and made a bee-line for Brad. Fortunately, his security team appears to be able to hold their own, because one of his guys came out of the middle of nowhere to tackle this woman NFL-style. As soon as he picked her up she started kicking and flailing about like a child. It was quite a site to see, although if she had taken the advice of her shirt- “Party Naked”- I’m not so sure security would have been so quick to take her out. The world may never know.

Not to be over-run by happiness for too long, Brad ended up giving his hat to some rotten little 4 year old whose parents clearly only brought him to use for that purpose. Four-year-olds don’t understand celebrity and music and the like, and if they do, they’re watching too much TV, and you should question the parenting of that child. So, next year Lemons and I have decided to bring one of our nieces to the concert for the exact same purpose.

We want that hat, darnit!

It’s 8:05 am EST. I have to be to my SIL’s by 10:00 am in order to preserve her sanity. (or what’s left of it anyway) Brad Paisley’s new CD came out today and I want it for the drive up.

I think there’s a Wal-Mart on the way…….

I had a dream - don’t get  too excited, this will not even touch the bottom most level of MLK’s speech- that we went to the Brad concert and were so close to the stage that I could touch his thigh if I wanted to. (And I did!) I had a dream, that the concert was so void of people that he focused most of his attention on lemons and I. I had a dream, that after the concert we got to hang out with him backstage and laugh and joke like old friends. I had a dream, that we were in our favorite salon (not actually sure where we were) and Kimberly Williams-Paisley was in there with Brad and little Will and we all had a grand time together. I had a dream, and then I woke up.

We’ve already purchased our (VIP, because we’re so cool and part of his fan club!) tickets to see Brad Paisley in concert at the Harrington Fair.

We’re waiting on the edge of our seats for the (VIP, see above for the rest) tickets to go on sale down in Charlotte, NC.

Because we fell in love with him when he was on tour with Brad Paisley last year, we’ve purchased tickets to see Eric Church in concert down at Dewey Beach.

Do you think it’s too much to see Brad at Hershey Park too?

Hi, I’m fancythis and I’m a:

Shopaholic

Friends-aholic

Steeler’s Football-aholic

While we’re on that topic, a Ben Roethlisberger, Hines Ward, Troy Polamalu, Jerome Bettis - aholic

Did I mention Friends?

Long hot shower - aholic

Clean - aholic (ok that’s a lie, but I figured I’d throw in at least one “good problem”)

Have we talked about Friends?

What about shopping?

I can get over this you know.

Ooh! I wonder if I could watch Friends while I’m shopping. Do you think its possible?

I also like Country Music.

Ok, maybe like is a weak word in light of the other mild interests.

And Brad Paisley.

And Friends.

And shopping.

As mentioned 80 gajillion times before, I am obsessed with all things Vera Bradley.

Remember when I told you a couple of days ago that I was going to go pick up my pre-order?

I didn’t.

That’s right, folks. The person sitting here typing this is a recovering Vera addict. (maybe) I actually took control of myself last week to the point where I recognized that spending that much money on something so insignificant, in this time of possible financial hardship, might not be the wisest purchase I’ve ever made. (there’s always Valentine’s Day, right?)

I’m pretty sure that a celebration is in order. In fact, some friends of mine at church were so impressed with me that I actually got hugs and “I’m really proud of you-s”. Seriously. I never realized before how my addiction was affecting others, but it was. It does!

Is there something that you’re addicted to? You should totally kick the habit because you really don’t know who you’re affecting and how you’re affecting them until you do.

So give it a try. We can sober up together!

First I would like to start this post out on a completely irrelevant (to the title anyway) note:

Big Monster Company has decided to extend me for another 2 weeks because my job here is not yet complete. (Read: they planned this project out really poorly and since there’s no one else who knows what the heck to do with this crap they decided they better not sever me yet) So, yay!

 Now, on to the good stuff. I would like to point out the irony of my current situation. I will be unemployed in 2 weeks and American Eagle just put out their new spring collection. Acutally, most stores did and I’m in love with, like, everything and I want to buy it all and have I mentioned that I will be unemployed in 2 weeks?

I love the whole Bermuda Shorts thingy, with the cute T and the cami underneath. I mean how cute right?

And what do you think about these flip-flops? I mean c’mon people, don’t they just scream me? I thought so to.

Fortunately, I still have gift cards from Christmas to spend on satiating my shopping habit.

But also, remember when I put my name down on the waiting list for that Vera Bradley stuff? They called and my stuff is in and I just have to buy it, I mean, I can’t just let someone else take the stuff that I had enough foresight to pre-order. No way!

So, with that said, does anyone have a room to spare in their home? I promise husband and I won’t need to stay with you too long. Just long enough so that we can get back on our feet after I go shopping today……..

I’m so excited, I can barely stay calm long enough to type this out.

The new Vera Bradley patterns I was telling you about a couple of months ago, are finally viewable online. I know you can barely contain your joy.

Go ahead, buy one.

Confession:

I have a Myspace account.

Short of sounding like some sort of stalker, I’ll say that what I use myspace for is for the good of the youth masses. Well, the youth whose lives I’m either directly or indirectly involved in. But I have a myspace nonetheless.

I literally go into myspace with the intent to search for names and possible nicknames of kids I know, and if anything inappropriate is uncovered, thusly rat them out. I know, I’m a real sweetheart, right? Well, I don’t really care what anyone thinks, this isn’t a forum to share your negative feelings with me. So there.

Anyway, yesterday I came upon the account of someone who’s pretty close to me. After discovering that they hadn’t logged into their account in a couple of months, but suspecting that they were probably still using myspace, I started to investigate a little bit. I searched through a couple of their “friends” and found the new myspace for this individual.

Oh. Boy. First off, the background for this person’s page was marijuana leaves. I must admit that I wasn’t totally surprised by this, I was more surprised at the openness this person had with their behavior. I started looking at pictures they posted and found some pictures of the person with a cigarette in hand, drinking beer, and then I found pictures of said individual with friends holding blunts. HUGE blunts. I proceeded to continue down the page a found a video of this person doing what’s called a “shotgun”.

I didn’t know right away that that’s what it was called. I had to call on some people who had some knowledge of the drug world to find this information out.

For those of you who don’t know. A “shotgun” is when one person is actually taking a drag of the blunt/joint and the other person takes the smoke from the other end in their mouth for a stronger effect or a greater “high”. Hence the term shotgun.

I know, right? I was shocked too. This person is 6 years younger than me with this knowledge, and I’m completely oblivious to it.

If that wasn’t enough, I then ran across a conversation they were having with a friend about going down to Jamaica for spring break and how they can get “an 8th for $10 and an o for $30″. Now, since I was without the knowledge of what the heck a shotgun was, I of course had no idea what this conversation meant. Turns out an “o” is an ounce and can usually be referencing either crack or marijuana. I figured they were referencing marijuana, because considering how young they are, I thought, naively, that there was no way they were involved with crack.

Wrong. Apparently an 8th or “8-ball” is slang for the weight of crack. It is very unlikely that marijuana is sold in terms of “eight”. Big shocker.

Now? Now, I have to be the “bad guy” and rat this person out. It’s an ugly job, but somebody has to do it.

This did get me thinking though. How many parents are as oblivious to this stuff as I was? I’m not that far removed from teendom, nor am I a parent, and somehow, yesterday’s discovery made me realize the true distance that is there.

I am in no way saying that myspace is this evil networking site. In fact, most of my “friends” on myspace who are teens use the thing for what it was designed for. All I’m suggesting is that if the parent of this teen is so clueless, how many others are just as clueless when it comes to their kids?

Wake up people, this is real.