Long Time No Talk. . .

Well, hello there, party people. Sorry about the week-long absence. Life's been pretty tough for our family lately, but here we are with our heads poking out on the other side. Last time I was on here I was bound and determined that nothing would break my stride. Well, let's just say that the stride was broken like a sombitch. Shoot.

Matt had been out of town (which I didn't tell you about before just in case you are a murderer who would then decide that--since my strapping protector husband was gone--it was high time for some murderin'), and I learned the hard way that I'm just no good at being by myself for long periods of time.* Even Mitch missed him.

But Matt's back, and although there are still some very sad circumstances that are out of our control, and some very annoying circumstances that are out of our control, we're doing better. It's been nice returning to our awesome, albeit boring, routine.

Cue the triumphant Forrest Gump music!



You didn't miss too much in the last week. I spent too many hours grading essays, waiting tables, and being otherwise pitiful. I was abandoned by Matt's car not just once but twice. I may or may not have witnessed a gas station robbery. I ate too much fast food and drank too much wine--so much wine, in fact, that I may have accidentally fallen into some curtains and pulled them down from the window. Oops. I filed the mail for the first time since this happened. And I started our taxes.

Exciting, huh? Try not to get too carried away with jealousy.

Actually, look at today's weather forecast for the SAV, and then you can be overcome with envy.

So, yeah. Things sucked there for a while, and I apologize for the absence. But short weeks and happy times lie ahead of us, and I can't wait to share those with you. I've missed y'all.**



*Judge away. I've spent days beating myself up about not actually being the strong, independent, "I don't need a man" kind of gal I've always fancied myself to be. Twenty-year old Mandy kind of hates twenty-nine year Mandy, but it doesn't really matter. Twenty-year old Mandy was a terrible cook, so take that!


**Twenty-year old Mandy also judges present-day Mandy for her use of y'all. Twenty-year old Mandy is such a bitch!

Old Navy Prep Coat!

They're $29 right now! 

Today I bought this one.

Tomorrow I think I should buy this one.  Is that excessive?

Rationalization time. 

Now, what will I regret more: buying the second jacket (that I don't really need but really, really like) or not buying the second jacket?  When I asked Matt earlier today if he thought that I should go back for the green one, he responded, "Oh yeah. I think you definitely need it."  His words look so much better written down, where you can't see how he was wearing the "you're a lunatic" look on his face. 

But, I suppose that if Matt says that I should go back and get it, then I wouldn't want to let him down.  I mean, I don't know if I could live with myself if I disappointed him so.

Cold Front

There seems to be a cold front moving through the SAV.  Now, I don't really know anything about weather (except that a tropical storm becomes a hurricane when it has 75 mph winds), and I usually don't care all that much.  And I really don't understand all that high pressure/low pressure jibba jabba.  Anyway, this is a cold front, I've decided, because finally it's cooler than 90 degrees outside.
 
Shoot, it was so cool today (uh, 87 or so) that I had to find my Snuggie at naptime.  (You probably think that's a lie.  It is not a lie.)  And I'm not the only one who's chilly.  Look who I found out at the Carport Bistro!

It's Linus!  Linus the Lizard!

This isn't the first time lizards have found solace in the warm glow of the bistro's lanterns.  Last October I met Leopold, Linus's great uncle. 

But I think Linus is cuter.

Weather Tease

While compulsively checking weather.com today, I saw this.

Rain? Snow Showers? Low of 25? Ice? Snow? No school?

I know that I shouldn't get my hopes up, but the deed's been done. Hopes are up, slippers are on.

And, universe, I deserve some snow because I have resisted--for three full days now--the urge to scream out during class, "Oh my god, it's SNOWING!" and then watch as all my kiddies run to the window only to find disappointment. It was not easy to resist this urge.

I'm in full superstitious mode now, too. I'm going to make sure that everything is ready for school tomorrow. (In high school and college I learned that it would only snow if I'd done all of my homework, finished papers, and studied for any upcoming tests or quizzes.) I'm going to clean the house and iron clothes and bake cookies. I'll have nothing left to do tomorrow except rejoice!

I hope. I hope.

Brrrrrrrrrr!

A few weeks back, I was experiencing a bad case of weather envy. Every single person I know, it seemed, was posting pictures of pretty snow over sparkly Christmas lights, and I was sitting down here in stupid old hot humid Savannah wearing flip flops and a tshirt.

My memory of winter is basically this:

Beautiful, snowy Wilson Hall. Snow days and hot chocolate and hats and coats and scarves (the more garish, the better).

Oh, and my hair always looks so much better in the cold. That's probably because when it's cold I abandon my usual "beauty" routine of going to bed with my hair wet and then throwing it in a very messy ponytail. Instead, I blow dry it and--GASP!--brush it. When it's done I look like a real girl.

I seem to have forgotten about what a cold winter is really like. For the last week it's been in the thirties here during the day, and the twenties and teens at night. That's really f'ing cold! That's Maryland cold!

I forgot about dry itchy skin and having to start my car ten minutes before I leave for work. I forgot about the fact that cold weather makes me, well, cold. And cold isn't so comfortable.

When Shipley gave me my Snuggie last spring, I never thought it'd get this much use! Hell, the Snuggie is even all dirty on the bottom since I've been walking around the house and yard wearing it. (Matt is proud and the neighbors think I'm crazy.)

Tip: you can use a scarf to tie around your waist so that you can walk around wearing the Snuggie.

Now, I don't usually share with you my keen sense of fashion because I don't want to alienate people who may be less fashionable than I am. I know that I'm a regular Lauren Conrad when it comes to clothes, and not everyone can be a Lauren Conrad, so please don't feel intimidated when you view the following.

I give you. . .Snuggie fashion.

Here I was on my way to watch a soccer game.

Happy Hump Day! Keep warm!

Weather Envy

One of my favorite things about Gmail is how it keeps me informed about the weather in my neck of the woods. I especially love the days that it rains and rains, and how the raindrops scattered across my email look like I could just lick them off.

But now Gmail has gone too far, and is being a weather tease. Tonight I logged in and saw this:

Oh, is that snow piled up on the Gmail lettering? Yeah. But is it going to snow here in Savannah? No. No it's not.

We moved to Savannah six years ago, and I have not seen snow since. I know that there are people out there who hate the snow and its inconveniences, but I am not one of those people. I love the snow. I love how pretty it is. I eat it. I sled. I try to ski. Snow makes me happy. And since I've never lived north of Maryland, I've never had enough snow for me to be sick of it.

Combined with my love for snow is my love for time off work. I'm a teacher. In Savannah. And I never have the joy of turning on the TV to discover that school's been cancelled because of snow (though we do have a hurricane day off every few years). No 1-hour late days, no 2-hour late days. (PS--2-hour late days were the best things of all: extra sleep, shorter classes, no makeup days.)

Right now almost everyone I know is buried under a couple feet of snow. I'm trying not to be the "grass is greener" type, but it's killing me. Even when the rational part of me explains away how the snow would be an inconvenience and how I'm being stupidly nostalgic, the childish and jealous side of me prevails, and I get pouty and stupid.

So F you, Gmail. (Unless, of course, you know something I don't and I'm waking up tomorrow to a winter wonderland.) Don't be a snow tease.

Everyone else, either appreciate the shit out of your gorgeous snow or tell me about how horrible it is.

54 Degrees and Raining

We live in Savannah. You know, balmy, hot Savannah. At this point of the year I am supposed to be putting talcum powder on my face to absorb all of the sweat. But no.

Here is my angry, "Stupid cold rain!" face.

It's cold outside, and it's raining, and Mitch hates it. This is one of those times when he channels his inner kitten, and he refuses to be outside if it is raining. Also, since he is a Georgian wild swamp dog, he's not accustomed to the cold.

So now nature is not just trying to destroy me, but it is also trying to destroy my son. Stupid nature.