March 2010

I think the lyric is actually “Summertime, and the livin’s easy”, but whatevs.

Found some pictures on an old memory card this afternoon whilst packing my suitcase for the BAHAMAS!!!  (*clap clap clap*)

I was about to delete the whole thing figuring I hadn’t looked at it in 6 months, so it couldn’t be too important, but I scrolled through and found some shots I snapped before a Christmas card session w/ a client.

Thought I’d share.  You’re welcome.

The sun that afternoon was TO DIE FOR

Now that is one HANDSOME man, if I do say so myself.


Today I am going to be positive.  All day. 

I’m going to take that Voice of Negativity in my head, shove it down onto a rickety chair in the corner of my mind, point my finger in it’s face and emphatically tell that Voice to SHUT. IT.   Simultaneously I will be handing the Voice of Positivity a mic and telling it to SPEAK! UP!

So let’s kick this off with a bang, shall we? 

Things I Am Grateful For Today:

  • It was a beautiful morning – cool, crisp, clear skies with a suggestion of rain, but not for awhile
  • My amazing husband, who I am absolutely, positively, head over heels in love with every single day
  • That my amazing husband has not quit the job he *ahem* likes so we can still pay our bills
  • Our beautiful home
  • I have a job that helps to PAY for that beautiful home
  • The job I have now doesn’t do to my soul what I’m doing to The Bad Voice today
  • My parents and in-laws are spectacular and supportive
  • Our health
  • The Skitties
  • We’re going to the BAHAMAS in 3 days!  Yeah yeah yeah yeah
  • I’ve got four scheduled photo sessions over the next 6 weeks, with 3 more pending (a record!)


Rainbows!  Sunshine!

P.S. Apparently yesterday was list day, not today.  But since I just got around to reading them this morning, I’m going to pretend that they were written today.  So there.

Having a job you hate can be like wearing shackles that only allow your arms and legs to move 3ft apart.

You show up every day  and go through the necessary motions: paperwork, meetings, phone calls.  But never anything too big or exciting, because you can only move 3ft apart.

You go home at night and on the weekends, and you may have an enjoyable time.  You might laugh with your friends and play with your babies and embrace your spouse, and you may almost forget that those shackles are there.  But you’ll never laugh too loud or play too silly or embrace too passionately, because you can only move 3ft apart.

Eventually you begin to forget what it’s like beyond 3ft.  You can hardly remember what you would even DO with more than 3ft apart.  You can’t quite put your finger on how or when those shackles got there – they certainly weren’t there on your first day.  And so 3ft apart becomes normal.   Laughing that loud and playing that silly and embracing that strongly become distant memories – a past life that you know you lived, though the memories are deep in the foggy corners of your mind.

And then one day, if you’re lucky, you’ll leave.  Your last day will come and someone will turn the key to those rusty shackles and pull them off, and you’ll rub your wrist and shake out your legs and feel happy.  But also a little nervous.  Because those shackles – those God forsaken shackles – have been defining your life for what feels like forever.

And so, for awhile, you will continue to live 3ft apart, even though you’re free to move as you please.  You’ll laugh just that loud, play just that silly, embrace just that passionately.  But no more.

Then, a little further down the road, something will catch you off guard.  You may be having a glass of wine with old friends or a beautiful day with your babies or an especially touching moment with your partner and you’ll start laughing a little louder.  Playing a little sillier.  Loving a little deeper.  And you’ll realize at that moment that you’re beyond 3ft.  You’re beyond what any shackle could ever hope to restrain you to, and the relief and joy that rush through you will cause tears to sting your eyes.  You’ll shake your head in wonder over how you missed it – how you managed to ignore the chains holding you back from all the good life has to offer.

And it will be great.  Beyond 3ft.

Saturday we made a trip up to Chattanooga to see mom’s chorus compete in a regional competition.   We had a blast – they rocked it out (as much as a group of 50-80yr old women dressed like hookers and singing barbershop can) and won 3rd in the midsize category.  I’m very proud of her – they take this shit SERIOUSLY.

No really, they were all pissed that they didn’t get higher than that.  


We had some fun walking around Chattanooga  after the competition.  They’ve really spruced up the downtown area…it’s actually a lot more dynamic than you’d expect from a country fried southern town.

A local school made these…

Great way to spruce up a crappy building, right?

I know this look is totally overdone, but I loved the way it looked with this sculpture.

Well done Chattanooga, well done.

Josh woke me up at 7:30 (I wasn’t alert enough to pick up my camera til later)
To drag my to HD for their Black Friday sale (but it’s Saturday??!)
Then we mailed in our taxes
Drove to Chattanooga
To meet up with my parents (Don’t worry, she’s in costume…not a hooker)
She sang – fabulously I might add
They won! Well, 3rd place, but I’m still proud
Then Josh and I walked around Chattanooga taking pictures
And then we at dinner with “Smokey Mountain Harmony” (how cute is that?  Seriously?!), and drove home.  Alas, there are no pictures of the drive home because this chickadee was passed the eff out.  I’m such a great driving companion!


Late last week I stomped my feet and waved my arms in the air and was all OMG BIATCH QUIT USING 47 COMMAS IN ONE SENTENCE!   And then my amazing husband proofread for spelling errors, and I stepped off my soapbox and went on my merry way.  

Please allow me to hop back up on my snazzy little soapbox for a moment.   


I just received the following e-mail:  

Thanks but it was a user error i typed my name and password which was my name a couple of different ways and i got through i will try to get some of the classes done today but i do work tomorrow and then i will try to finish what i need to do and then… I wait for N*** to call or will he let me know what I need to do 


Um, I’ll tell you what you need to do.  You need to go back to the 3rd grade and learn how to WRITE A PROPER SENTENCE.   

Because I’m in HR, I am privy to the fact that you are 34 years old.  According to my not-so-stellar math skills (still better than your writing skills!  BAM!), that puts you approximately 26 YEARS behind in your writing skills.   

With the exception of the 5 periods randomly tossed into this giant sentence (and by the way, it’s called an ellipsis and you only need 3) there is absolutely no punctuation.  Not even a period to signify that it’s over, which leads me to believe that he’s still rambling on somewhere.  

So now I can’t decide what’s worse: 47 commas, or ZERO punctuation.

We L.O.V.E. homemade pizza (well, pseudo homemade…we get the dough from Publix, but make the sauce and top ourselves), but we always do normal pizza…red sauce, lots o toppings, shredded cheese.

However, tonight we decided to go out on a limb and try a pesto pizza.

Perfect Pesto Pizza

Please excuse my messy kitchen.

Seriously ya’ll, this was out of this world.  I made up a spinach & walnut pesto real quick, and just spread it right on.  Added some thick slices of mozzarella and a handful of baby bella mushrooms…out of this world!


Thanks to my honey for taking this picture!

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