In Short: A Solicitor, Balloon Art, & Flash Photography.

Hey kids. I hope all of you had a great Christmas Eve, Christmas, day after Christmas, and all of the days that have since followed. Next up, New Years fun. This year is the first in a great while that I will actually be out among the living and celebrating. Will I be dressed up? You betcha. Will I be the third wheel among my favorite couple ever? Yes. Yes, I will. Will I be kissing someone at midnight? Maybe. Hopefully. Miracles do happen. Sometimes.

I'm actually heading out tomorrow to go out of town on my little New Years rendezvous. I'm excited. Twill be fun.

I had a good Christmas. I'll be back in a couple of days and post about some family Christmas fun. I actually have a pretty good story, but right now I'd much rather write about the fun I had on Wednesday.

If you follow me on Twitter, then you've already heard the story I'm about to tell. Sorry. You're going to hear it again.

The time was Wednesday afternoon. The place was my house. I was busy getting myself ready. Doing my makeup and all that. My hair was still wet and twisted up on top of my head. I'd done eye makeup for only one of my eyes. And I was wearing sweatpants and a cami. So basically, in case you didn't quite follow, I just painted a picture of myself looking really good. In the midst of getting ready, my doorbell rings. It rang multiple times in an annoying fashion like it was being rung by someone I would know. Hmm. That kind of makes it sound like everyone I know is annoying. Interesting.

Moving on.

This doorbell ringing threw me off my game. I'm normally cautious and look before I open the door (I've even been known to hide before), but I was convinced it was someone I knew. Like a family member. Or an unannounced friend. Because it went 'ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong' all fast and crazy. Not something a stranger solicitor would do...or would they? [Cue dramatic music]

When I opened the door I was greeted by a black man. Now don't read into that because I'm not implying a thing. I'm just stating facts and I'm a detailed and descriptive person. Like I said, I'm just stating the facts.

Moving on.

He was wearing an over sized red hoodie and dirty jeans. He then proceeds to ask me if my Mom was home. He explains that he's asking for my Mom because he can tell that I'm "just a kid".

Hmm. Okay, uninvited and unwelcome solicitor. You think I'm a rude teenager at home on winter break without the supervision of her parents? Well, do ya? What you think is what you will get then. I'm a pretty good actress and I can play your games.

He then asks if my Dad is home. Um, I don't think he should be asking a kid all of these prying questions. I told him I didn't know when my Mom would be home and that my Dad was at work. I also made sure he got a good close look at my ferocious dog. You remember her, right?

I could tell he was frightened. He then pulls out a business card and said, "Well tell Mom and Dad that "Preacher, the Meat Man" was here." As he got closer to me and handed me the card, he got all up in my business, if you will. He was inspecting my face. Maybe my makeup on only one eye was really throwing him off. I bet he thought I was a kid playing in my Mom's makeup again. Boy, I really fooled him.
I could see that he was second guessing his age estimation skills, but finally he said, "Hmm. Yeah...I guess you're a kid". I just smiled.

And that's when I stopped being nice and said, "I'm gonna give you to the count of 10 to get your ugly, yellow, no good keister off my property...before I pump your guts full of lead. 1, 2, 10."

Well, I'll let you all draw your own conclusions, but I'm pretty sure you know how the rest went down. You've seen Home Alone.

I really don't like solicitors. They shouldn't be allowed. It's a violation and it's creepy. Plus, a kid shouldn't have to deal with strangers coming to her door. Amiright, people?

The business card from the man really says "Preacher, the Meat Man". He's a man that sells cases of meat out of his cargo van. And because he lists that he's a preacher makes him legit without question. It features his picture with him holding an open Bible. He even included the following verse, Matthew 4:4: "It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." (which is the Meat of God). I copied that exactly as it was written on the card, by the way.

I don't want your meat. I don't think my parents want your meat either.

Guys, how old do I look? How can someone think that I'm "just a kid"? Seriously. I'm 28. I'm old. I'll be 29 in four short months, but let's not talk about it.

Oh well. Forget him.

After I finished getting ready, I met up with my girlfrans to head down to Nashville. We originally went with the intention of shopping and then attending the hockey game downtown. We successfully shopped but unsuccessfully were able to obtain tickets for the game.

So there we were. In downtown Nashville. A place that is full of fun. What do we do? What do we do?

Brief side note: for Christmas I got an iPhone upgrade to the 4S. I'm already in love with the phone and with Siri. She's quickly become one of my good friends. I talk. She listens. She helps me fix problems. She's amazing. Another great thing about my new phone is the picture quality and the flash photography. I was thrilled to be able to take pictures with my phone while being out at night. Prepare your eyeballs for this delicious feast of pictures that I am about to serve you.

I'll tell you what we did. We found fun times. That's what. We went out to eat and a creepy nice balloon hat making man stopped by our table. I unfortunately made eye contact with the man and that's all it took. He made Ashley a hat because he thought she needed a smile. He does clown work. Always trying to turn a frown upside down.

Doesn't she look so happy?

Let's get a closer look at the balloon man, shall we?

After our meal and balloon man encounter, we went up and down Broadway.

We saw Billy Ray.

We met Dirty Sanchez.

We found abandoned balloon hats and made them ours.

Please notice the fun photo bomber in the background. By the way of our pointing hands, it looks like his position was planned and known by us. It wasn't. Strictly awesome coincidence.

Balloon arch of friendship. That's what this is. We had fun on the sidewalk and people were loving it. Especially when we stopped and made people limbo. 

There we go. Just walking down the sidewalk. A balloon hat connected by friendship.

Balloon hats make you crazy, as evidenced in the two phone pictures above. 

Exhibit A: crazy balloon hat man. Exhibit B: me.

Yes we're crazy. Crazy for balloon hats!

Nights really do come full circle. Our evening started with balloon hats and it ended with balloon hats. Such delight. 

I'll be back in a few days. Hopefully. All of you have a great New Years. Be safe and don't get into too much trouble. Unless trouble is fashioned into a balloon hat.

Fact: It's the Holidays.

And because we I just can't get enough, here are my latest facts. Holiday Edition.

Fact: I went out with my friends last night to enjoy some holiday friendship time.

Fact: "It's the holidays" was my phrase of the night. I don't understand it either. "May I have a cherry? It's the holidays." "I have to go to the bathroom. It's the holidays." "I want a short stack of pancakes. It's the holidays."

Fact: A kind anonymous patron bought our meals and drinks at the restaurant. That's three meals and a whole lotta drinks. It's the holidays.

Fact: Because we had a free dinner, I thought it would probably be a good idea for us to go eat another dinner somewhere. *Please note several hours passed between dinners. 

Fact: We went to IHOP because I had been wanting a stack of pancakes for three days. And everyone was probably sick of hearing me talk about pancakes. You want a hungry pancake obsessed girl to shut up? Give the girl pancakes.

Fact: Pancakes are delicious.

Fact: International is the key word in International House of Pancakes. And it's not about the pancakes, guys. It's international in terms of the diverse grouping of people under one roof. I understand that now.

Fact: My eyeballs beheld so many wonders last night. People of all shapes, colors, and sizes. People of all clothing and hair stylings (my personal favorite being the periscope-shaped bun). People from far off lands like caves, and holes, and bubbles. And possibly the depths of outer space.

Fact: When I can't sleep I'm going to start going to IHOP to conduct case studies and take notes for future blog posts.

Fact: A woman squealed like a pig in the restaurant. Just out of nowhere. She was having a conversation with what I'm going to assume was her husband. And she just squealed. Maybe the sight of bacon just overcomes her. Maybe they're sympathy pangs for the pig that perished. I don't know.

Fact: It sounded just like this little pig who cried all the way home:

Fact: Pigs are delicious.

Fact: You know what's not so delicious? Applesauce. There was a container of applesauce sitting in the middle of the road as I was driving home last night. Now that I'm thinking about it, it was raining...was food falling from the sky? Uh-oh. I've seen the movie Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. Kinda scared, guys.

Fact: A person in my neighborhood has a Christmas sweatshirt hanging in the front window of their house.

Fact: Christmas sweatshirts, while they look stunning and stylish on the body, are not a substitute for window treatments. Or proper Christmas decor.

Fact: The people that live in that house were probably among the patrons at IHOP last night.

Fact: Because I'm feeling like a bragger, I just need to let you all know that I got an A in my Gifted & Creative Psy grad class. Receiving an A is a rare occurrence for me, so it needs to be documented. Here. For all to read.

Fact: I love you all so much and if I could sing you a Christmas song right now, I so would. I would sing it so loud and so hard. But, it's the holidays, so I won't.

You're Welcome.

Dancing With An iPod in Public: Christmas Edition.

Not only does he have dancing skills to rival that of Napoleon Dynamite, he has probably the most fashionable Christmas sweatshirt I've ever seen. I'm jealous of it. I think it's just about perfect.

Watch it. Enjoy it. Love it. 

Survey Says!

I love surveys. I also love making lists. That's something Santa and I have in common. We both like making lists. And while Santa is apparently on top of his game enough to only check his list twice, I have to check mine about 50 times because I am sure to forget something or I have to re-write it because I had to scribble something off and now it looks horrid and my writing looks sloppy and it just will not do, so I wad my list up and start a new list on a fresh, clean piece of paper.
And I believe that, my friends, wins the award of being the longest run-on sentence of all time. I should probably consult the Guinness Book.

Anyway, back to surveys and list-making. I saw this little Christmas survey over at Melanie's blog and it looked like loads of fun to me, so I'm doing it.
And away we go.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
Confession time: I'm horrible at wrapping gifts, but I give it my best attempt because I do like to see wrapped boxes with pretty bows (mangled as they may be) under my tree.

2. Real tree or artificial?
Growing up we did the real tree thing. Until my dad had had enough of the tree disasters. Now my parents do artificial trees. About 7 of them. No joke.

I also do artificial, but I only have 2. And they're black. I don't believe in green trees. Too normal. Plus green would clash with my interior decoration.

My tree that's not green.

And yes. It's leaning. Always. Sigh.

Close up of the pretty.

This is my bedroom Christmas tree. It's just a little tabletop one.

3. When do you put up the tree?
I like to put my tree up as early as possible. It's usually the second week of November. This year I was late. It was up just a couple days before Thanksgiving. Very unlike me.

4. When do you take the tree down?
I'm kinda ready to take it down now just so I can get my house back in order. I guess I'm a Grinch.

5. Do you like eggnog?
Why yes I do. And this is very odd considering I detest milk. I'm strange. I know this.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?
Oh goodness. I received so many good things throughout the years. My favorites were probably my Barbie town house and the Samantha American Girl doll.

7. Do you have a nativity scene?
I surely do. I'm a proud supporter of Baby Jesus. And adult Jesus.

8. Hardest person to buy for?
My Dad. So far I've gotten him a gift card. Wow.

9. Easiest person to buy for?
My Mom. She likes everything.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
Who emails Christmas cards?

I'm actually bad about the whole Christmas card thing. I don't ever send any out. I love receiving them though.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
I really don't know how to explain it. Luckily I have a picture so I can show you.

I received this gift a couple of school years ago. I unwrapped the wrapping paper and saw this:

My reaction was that this was pretty odd, but my students know I love food, so it was kind of thoughtful. It was a bulk-size brownie mix box from Sam's Club. Double the brownie-making. 

But low and behold, it was not brownie mix. There was a treasure inside:

A wadded up bundle of catalog pages that wrapped up this little gem:

A fruit mug. And the mom took a Sharpie and wrote "I miss you" on it. Um...?

You know what I miss? I miss receiving good gifts from students.

12. Favorite Christmas movie?
Christmas Vacation is a family classic. I also love Home Alone. And The Holiday. And The Year Without a Santa Claus. I like a lot of Christmas movies.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
Well, I haven't started yet and it's December 19th. I procrastinate in all areas of life. Christmas shopping is no different. I've sure bought a lot of things for myself though.

14. Ever recycled a present?
Of course. And I'll recycle again and again. I still have the brownie box and mug. Watch out, friends...

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
That would be my Mom's Christmas morning breakfast. Casserole City. So yum.

16. Clear lights or colored lights on a tree?
I don't like colored lights. I think they look junky. Honesty hurts sometimes.

17. Favorite Christmas song?
Baby It's Cold Outside and Carol of the Bells

18. Travel at Christmas or stay at home?
I stay home. All of my family is from around these parts.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer?
Bish, I can sing it! You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen. Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. But who do you recall, the most famous reindeer of all? Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer!

Did that answer the question?

20. Angel or star on top of the tree?
Neither. I use decorative picks.

21. Open the presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?
Christmas Eve we always open a pair of pajamas. It's a tradition thing. Christmas morning is Santa time with gifts and stockings.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?
Mainly just people. Crowds of people in stores. People in their cars creating stupid traffic. Also people that write sappy facebook statuses about the season. We know you're dreaming of a white Christmas. We know it's the most wonderful time of the year. We get it.

23. Favorite ornament, theme, or color?
I like glittery sparkly ornaments. And they have to be red, silver, white, or black to match the theme of the tree.

My trees definitely match my house color schemes. The living room tree goes with my red couch and black furniture and my bedroom tree goes with my black furniture and black and gold/tan accessories and comforter.

24. What do you want for Christmas?
Honestly, I don't really want anything this year. I'm not really in a Christmasy mood. I have what I need and I typically buy what I want. There just aren't really any big ticket items that interest me much this year. I'd love to have a Canon Rebel one day in my life, and a Kindle Fire would be a nice gift, but I won't die if I don't get one. Which is a good thing because I probably won't get one.

And just because I feel like it, here are a few more Christmas shots from my living room:

The stockings hung with care in hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there. 

Daisy's stocking has some delicious treats already in it. Sometimes she stands below it and sniffs the air. 

Here's my Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

This little white tree with red birds is 28 years old. Same as me. We're twins. My Mom used to be in a big crafty phase when I was a babe and 1983 was the year of the ceramic crafts. She made this tree for my first Christmas. The little birdies light up when you plug it in. It's an oldie but goodie.

That's about the extent of the decorating that I do. 

I hope you enjoyed this Taste of Christmas with Sarah. 

Good tidings I bring to you and your kin. I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

The Post Where I Do Nothing but Complain.

So I wrote this post last night but passed out before I hit publish. I fell asleep on the couch around 7:00 and didn't wake up until this morning. Girl was tired. Luckily I was already dressed for bedtime because I wore pajamas to school yesterday.

So let's go back in time. To yesterday...

I am officially on Christmas break. No school until January 3rd.

My day in noise: "Jingle, jangle, jingle jangle. When's our party? Jingle, jangle. I'm telling! When's our party? Jingle, jangle, jingle jangle. I'm hungry. I'm telling! When's our party? Jingle, jangle. When's my mom going to be here? When's our party?"

The jinglin' and janglin' were the stinkin' bell necklaces that I give the kids for Polar Express day and then always immediately regret it after I pass them out. The bells were put in timeout in the lockers for the rest of the day at around 10:30.

I don't want to hear another bell for a long time. Right now I don't "believe".

You know that moment in The Holiday when Iris tells Jasper it's over? She closes the door on him and then screams and she throws her hands up in the air? And then she says she's going to start living her life. I feel like that. Right now in this moment. And it feels so good.

I'm ecstatic and happy to have this break. It's much-needed for everyone. Teachers, kids, parents. We all need it.

Even though I'm thrilled, when I got home I cried. Full-on cry fest. I felt crazy. And I rarely cry, but I just had too many emotions going on. I was way hormonal.

Today was stupid busy. Way too much packed into one already crazy day. Morning Meeting, school-wide pajama day and Polar Express movie watching, Book Buddies, classroom gift exchange, school-wide assembly, and we ended the day with our Christmas party. I detest party days. They're not fun. It's not a party that I'd ever want to willingly attend.

I was convinced Ashton Kutcher was lurking in the shadows of the school and he was going to run out at any minute to tell me I was Punk'd. I wish I had been Punk'd today. But I wasn't. So there's no excuse. Nothing to blame. It was just pure authentic chaos.

And why do parents come and just stand around at parties? If you're going to be there, maybe you should interact with your kid? Maybe? Just an idea. I had a total of 13 parents in my room at one point. The majority of the time, a large group of them stood behind my desk just hanging out. I even walked up on one mom snooping through some of my things. Like paperwork things. I was not happy and I had to do the whole "Excuse me?" thing. At another point during the party, a Mom and Dad made some really smart aleck comment to me. I think they were trying to be funny and cutesy but some people just aren't funny or cute. And that's all it took to push me over my already fragile edge. I was done. Over it.
I jumped.

And then everyone was able to see me turn into a bear and I started snapping at the adults in the room because I'm attending to one kid that is crying and another that has sugar overload and is bouncing around the room, all the while wishing I was an octopus and could sprout six more arms to help me collect all of the trash. And I did all of that simultaneously. And I'm used to doing this simultaneously on a normal day and I can handle it because I'm a kindergarten teacher. However, today there are 13 other able-bodied and competent (that's questionable) adults in my room that have two working hands and legs and should be able to do something instead of standing in my room taking up space and air, but they just stand. And stare. And criticize. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I'm short-circuiting. End of vent.

Okay. Not exactly end of vent. Just a little bit more.

The two parents that planned the party brought 2-liters of coke to serve to the kids. RC and Mountain Dew. I about fell out. I have some kids in my room that aren't allowed to have cokes of any kind. We could have at least had Coca-Cola where the purchases supports the Arctic Home for the polar bears. That would've been for a good cause. That and the fact that it's my favorite. But who am I kidding. Like I would have had time to drink anything.

And tonight on facebook there have been all kinds of teachers from my school that have posted positive and uplifting things about how blessed they feel. What a great day it was. How many wonderful things they received. What a great party they had. Excuse me? Did we work at the same place today?

I really do love my job. It may sound like I don't right now, but I do. I love my students. I don't always like adults so much. Sometimes it's just the bombardment of all the other crap that gets in the way and causes me to get bogged down.

I'm beyond thankful for time away. Now onto finishing up my pesky final. Once this B is submitted, my break can truly begin.

And thank the good lord my professor gave an extension on the final. I would have failed because I didn't submit it last night due to falling asleep. Now I have until 11:59 p.m. tonight. Like Mario, here we go!

Fact. Ode to Dwight K. Shrute. Part Dos.

I enjoyed my little 'fact' post that I did recently, so I told myself, "You just need to do another one. It's a spectacular idea. Yeah. Everybody will like it. Just do it". Such peer pressure. So here we have it.

Fact: I went shopping today. I needed to shop so hard after spending all day locked in my house doing homework yesterday.

Fact: I was on a quest to find a fun NYE dress. I failed. I found no such dress.

Fact: Every dress I tried on would have shown my unmentionables if I bent over. I don't need to be pulling a Britney when I go out. Nobody needs that.

Fact: One dress I tried on had lots of glitter on it. Not sequins. Pure silver glitter. Now remember what I told you about glitter being the herpes of the craft world? Today it proved true once again. You will see why below.

Fact: Everyone was staring at me in the next store I was in. I mean, I'm used to it. I'm pretty stunning. However, when I looked in a mirror, I discovered the real reason for the stares.

Fact: I had silver glitter all over my face. Everywhere. In my hair. In my eyebrows. On my cheeks. I looked so beautiful. Like an angel. I almost cried.

Fact: And you all know you can't get rid of the stuff. So I wore my glitter proudly. I owned it. I don't see me being like Regina George and starting a glitter all over your body fad though.

Fact: When I took off my bra tonight to put my pajamas on, glitter fell out of my bra and went all over my floor. That dress had serious glitter leakage. Glad I didn't buy it.

Fact: My brother busted in my room earlier. I was standing in my bathroom naked. I screamed. He said he was glad I screamed. He quickly closed the door and managed to not see a thing. It was a close one.

Fact: I put a towel around myself and went to his room to see what he wanted. He said he didn't want anything. He just wanted to sing for me.

Fact: And this is why we're perfect roommates.

Fact: My brother doesn't sing for real. He's not some kid that you'd hear on Glee. That doesn't stop him though. He sings all.the.time. And whistles. But he sings nonsense and uses words like "leggo" and "dough bruh" in his original lyrics.

Fact: He's white.

Fact: One of my students came to school one day last week so angry. I mean, he was pissed. When he came in the room, he grabbed the sleeve of his huge puffy coat and slapped it against the classroom floor. It was very wrestler-ish. I asked him why he was angry. He said, "Santa didn't come last night". Oh dear. I had to explain that Santa doesn't come on December 8th.

Fact: Pray for me guys. Pray that I make it the next five days with Santa-crazed kindergarteners. I guess it doesn't help that I'm cramming North Pole goodness down their throats and it's not gonna stop any time soon.

Fact: I don't really cram anything down my kids throats. Just knowledge. Pure knowledge. And love. And the occasional craft covered with glitter.

Fact: I did cram lots down my throat yesterday. I did the Bad Santa thing. Remember when ol' Billy Bob  ate all of Thurman Merman's chocolates in his advent calendar? Yep. I did that. To my calendar. I ate 'em all up. All the way to number 24. It was December 10. I cheated big time.

Fact: I couldn't help it. I was stressed. I was working on my paper for 12 hours. I just needed chocolate. I tore that poor advent calendar to shreds.

Fact: 5 more days of school and then it's Santa time. Two whole weeks off.
Yeeeeaaaahhhh boyyyyyyyy.

Another Brick in the Wall.

I'm angry. I typed out this whole post and then lost it. It deleted itself. Just vanished. I hate having to do things over, so my second attempt isn't going to be nearly as good or witty. Rats.

I feel like I've been a more frequent poster of blogs recently. We can thank procrastination for that. The past few weeks have been crunch time in my class. My end of the semester projects have been due. To me, deadlines just mean avoidance, denial, and procrastination. What better way to avoid homework than by spending hours perusing Pinterest/Facebook/Twitter/Blogger.
Ashley has also been a professional procrastinator tonight. She worked hard making this little poster display since we're the spokeswomen for procrastination. I'm not sure if you were aware of that, but we are.

Here's my poster:

If that face doesn't say "panic", then I don't know what does. It definitely shows a panicking procrastinator. You know what else it shows? A nice double chin, that's what. That's not something that I need to panic about later. That's something that I need to panic about, umm, let's say, yesterday. Lay off the cheeseburgers, Sarah. I bet you all just scrolled back up to the picture to get a closer look. Am I right?

The end of the semester is wrapping up. Praise J.C. for that. My big case study is due this weekend. I'm just going to let you guess how far along I am on that little project. Then I'll have my final. Then I'm alllllllllllll finished. Until January 3rd when a new class begins. Boo for education. "Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids Sarah Marcum alone!"

Listen to this. My brother left gum in his pants and put them through the dryer AGAIN! Twice in a lifetime is too many times, but twice in a week? He's fired. Fired from ever chewing gum again. Fired from doing his laundry and any other domestic duties in my house. He's also fired from being my brother. The same poop-resembling skid marks that I scrubbed from the dryer the time of the last incident are all back again. With a vengeance. I found a half a piece of gum that survived the heat. I took it in his room and threw it at his face and yelled, "REALLY!?! AGAIN!?!" And then my head started to spin.

He may not be a laundry genius but he is sweet and I love him. Especially when he buys me food. He took me out to dinner on Saturday night to our favorite Mexican food joint. Sometimes it's awkward when the two of us go out together. I feel like people think we're dating. We're not. Let me just clarify that right now. Don't believe all the rumors you hear about Kentucky. I don't date my brother. Now my cousin on the other hand...KIDDING! Totally kidding.
It probably didn't help our 'we're just siblings and aren't dating' cause when we ordered dessert and split it. And then my brother picked up the tab. Eh. Who cares. What does that prove besides the fact that we like to eat and he's a gentleman (sometimes. Unless he's doing laundry).

I've been without heat for 5 nights. I told my parents that I need to quit teaching and get my contractors license. There's obviously a great need in this town. I've had the hardest time to get someone to come and repair my unit. I have a checkbook. Have checkbook, will write check. Anyone? Anyone?
I've been talking to an HVAC guy since Saturday. I've called this man more in the past several days than I have any other man in the past year. You'd think we were in a relationship. When I called him today (which was twice, by the way), I didn't even have to tell him who I was anymore. It was a casual, "Hey Doug. It's me." Like we're buddies. We're not going to be buddies anymore if he doesn't get his rear in gear. Supposedly he's coming tomorrow after school, but I've heard that story before. Like two other times before.

Do you all love school picture day as much as I do? I like it because teachers get a free complimentary pack of school pictures. Do any of you? We get an 8x10, a couple 3.5x5's, and a whole slew of wallet size pictures. It's semi-frightening to have a continuous page of your repeating picture. And even though it's the same shot, I swear you can start seeing differences between them. Or maybe that's just me and my faulty eyeballs. They're like those old Magic Eye books.

Stare at the multiple Sarah's and a magic image will appear...

If anyone wants one of the wallets, let me know and I'll send you one. I have plenty. I'll write you a special message typical of school pictures on the back like, "LYLAS, Sarah".

The funny thing is that I've been getting these picture packages every year that I've been teaching so I have all of these 8x10s of myself. What do I do with them? Should I start a hallway picture display? One like my Granny has in her hallway that's featuring all of her grandkids, but mine will just be featuring nothing but pictures of myself. High quality school yearbook pictures. I bet that wouldn't scare off any potential dating material boys. Wouldn't scare them off one bit. I can picture it now. They're in my house and need to go to the bathroom. They walk down the hall, see my line up of school pictures through the years...Bam. They suddenly remember that they have to go--and not as in go to the bathroom. Go as in get the heck outta my house.

Well, so if the hallway doesn't work,

I could display on the mantle,

the refrigerator,

the possibilities are simply endless.

Today at school one of my kids very randomly decided to write a list of "things Ms. M likes to do". My list of real life hobbies is quite sad. I don't have many hobbies. After this child wrote my list she said, "Are you lazy?" Yep. Pretty much.
This is the list she wrote based on what she's heard me talk about and what she's observed. She's right on target. TV, crafts, read, hang out with friends, write, clean.

I asked her why it says "clean silly!" and she said, "It's because you like to clean and I think that is so silly".

I need more hobbies.

I'm sure I'll be back sooner than later.

It's the Day I've Been Waiting For. Plus Sweet School Pics.

Today is one of my favorite days of the year. It's not a holiday. It's not my birthday. So why do I love it? Well I'll tell you why. December 1st is the best day of the year because it's the day I can bust into my chocolate advent calendar for the first time. I have to exercise a lot of patience and self-control to wait until the 1st before I start opening the paper windows of the calendar. Hmm. Speaking of exercise, exercising patience and self-control is the only kind of exercising I do. Definitely not any of the physical kind going on around here. As if that wasn't already obvious considering the fact that I'm writing a post about my love for a box filled with 24 chocolates...

And here she is. Window #1. This little chocolate square is currently sitting in my belly. It was delicious.

Do any of you do a chocolate advent calendar? My Momma's been buying these things for us (my siblings and I) since I was a tot. I still love them just as much (if not more) at the age of 28 as I did back then. Delicious tradition. I've written about my advent calendars for the past couple years on my blog. HERE's a post from 2009 and HERE's a little mention from last year with some of my favorite Christmas things, just in case you're interested in some Waiting on the Butterflies archives.

As a kickoff to December, I will give you much delight as I bombard you with some Christmas photos. I have some pictures of my home Christmas decor including my beautimous tree, but those will wait for another day. My tree is not that of the average bear. I don't believe in putting up green trees. It clashes with my living room. But all of that will have to wait for another day.

Today I'm going to share some school pictures because I just finished this project today and I'm wanting to show it off. I don't really do a great job of posting pictures of things I do in my classroom, but since I've recently acquired many new teacher follower friends (hey guys!), I thought I'd share a little somethin', somethin' for all you because you'll appreciate it. This has been a labor of love. I have a sore back and glue stick burns to prove it. Thanks to stinkin' Pinterest, I was inspired to decorate my door for the Christmas season. Well, one thing led to another and the ideas just got bigger and involved more and more glitter.

The end result: a gingerbread duplex. 

Our duplex. Unit A (Kelly's classroom) and Unit B (mine).

I did this little project with the help of two great kindergarten assistants and Kelly, one of my kindergarten teammates and my classroom next door neighbor. It took us a couple of days to get it completed. It was exhausting but SO much fun. I love doing crafty things at school when we have the chance. It just makes me happy and the kids love it. They said, "It's like we're really inside a giant gingerbread house!"
One of my students from last year (that is a total character and one of my favorite people in my life) walked by and said, "Hey, cool Gingerbread Fortress". I love that I have a fortress. Another kid, that I love just as much and that I could sit and listen to for hours, said (in the cutest country twang you've ever heard), "I just love all this decoratin'".

My classroom

The full view

The roofing is my favorite part. Beautiful gumdrops and "icing" that looks like sparkly clouds.

Here's another close-up of the beautiful glittery gumdrops. I painted bowls and covered with Diamond Dust glitter to make them look sugar-covered.

You know, I love glitter so much. It makes me so happy but I swear I'll be sweeping it up from my classroom floor for the next month. Extra emphasis on I because I know the night custodian sure as heck isn't going to do it. Grumble, grumble. Anyway, I'll be sweeping it up for the next month because it just gets everywhere and it's impossible to get it all cleaned up. Glitter is like the herpes of the crafting world. It stays with you forever.

Yummy candy.

Scrumptious.

I took this shot before we were finished with the roof of our duplex. I wanted to show the peppermints and gingerbread men from the ceiling that we hung for added cuteness. It's important to make hallway displays as over-the-top as possible. It brings out the comments from haters and grumblers for sure.

Oh, and let me explain the Japanese flag. We didn't just randomly hang this as part of our gingerbread decor. At our school, we have international flags hanging all the way down both of our super mile-long hallways to represent all of our diversity. Just wanted to clear that up.

Here's my bulletin board. It is the most boring and simple and pointless bulletin board that I've ever done, but after doing the door display...well, I had nothing left to give. So I sprinkled candy on the board. Short and sweet. Pun very much intended.

Well, that's my little hallway tour.

Here's one more little treat for you. This is my cute little classroom Christmas tree. It's actually a picture from last year, but the tree still looks the same.

I hope you enjoyed the picture fest. Happy December!

Facts. That are Random. And Pretty Useless.

I'm feeling a bit like doing a tribute to Dwight K. Schrute. I miss the days of when The Office was really good and funny. Back when it was 2 legit 2 quit. However, I sadly quit The Office a couple of seasons ago. That makes me sad because I miss Jim. He used to be my boyfriend. In my head. And we were serious but then he got married. So I was done with him. Back to Dwight. In honor of him, I will do a list of facts.

Fact: If you need to remove gum from the inside of your dryer---a wet dryer sheet will do the trick.

Fact: Magic Eraser and Pampered Chef scraper are no good for the job. Just stick to the wet dryer sheet. Trust me.

Fact: I know this because I spent 30 sweaty minutes scrubbing the inside of my dryer removing gum. Removing a whole pack of gum residue. A whole pack of gum that my brother left in the pocket of his pants.

Fact: The inside of my dryer smelled like citrus fruit but the dryer drum looked like it was streaked with poop skid marks. Hot melty gum isn't pretty, folks.

Fact: I don't like when people say 'folks'.

Fact: Living with my younger brother is so much fun sometimes. It's a riot, really. I'm laughing so hard right now thinking about all the fun I've had tonight...

::envisioning myself with my head hung in the dryer cleaning off gum residue::

Fact: Store checkout lanes are pure temptation. Full of candy, gum, magazines, chap stick, lint rollers. The devil designed checkout lanes. He must have. Sneaky guy.

Fact: I couldn't resist the urge to buy a bag of Sour Patch Kids in the checkout at Hobby Lobby. Who goes to a craft store and buys candy? I do.

Fact: When I buy a bag of Sour Patch Kids, I only eat the red and green ones. They're delicious. The orange and yellow ones go in the trash.

Fact: If you want to be friends, I'll give you the orange and yellow kids to eat. I feel bad throwing them away. "At first they're sour, but then they're sweet..."

Fact: It's a bad idea to eat Sour Patch Kids in bed. Unless you like feeling sugar granules through the night. I guess it could be an exfoliant...

Fact: Sugar makes me think of glitter and glitter makes me happy. It's just such a beautiful mess. My Assistant tells me I have a different look in my eyes when I bust out the glitter in the classroom. Perhaps my eyes twinkle like glitter. Hmm. Perhaps.

Fact: It secretly thrills me to mention my "Assistant" in conversation. It's like my one sad shot in life to be a name dropper and pretend in my imagination fantasy land that I'm famous and that she's my own Personal Assistant. I guess she kind of is sometimes. Especially when I have her leave school to go buy me a Sonic Happy Hour drink...

Fact: I glittered so hard today that glitter has been falling from my hair all night. At first I was concerned it was dandruff. It's only beautiful sparkles. Phew.

Fact: I've gone to Zaxby's the past two nights in a row. And I could probably make it three. I get on food kicks really hard sometimes. Watch out, Zaxby's. I have a feeling we're about to be best buds.

Fact: After I placed my order at Zaxby's, the lady in the speaker told me, "I look forward to settling up with you at the window". That kind of made me gulp. Yikes. Settle up? Like I had a hefty overdue bill to pay. Or like a mob was going to meet me at the window and drag me inside of the building to "teach me a lesson I'll never forget". I just want a chicken platter.

Fact: I like you. All of you.

Fact: We're half way through the work week. Yessssssssssssssssss.

Fact: I'll be back soon with another post, folks (I just had to throw it in one more time for good measure). Stay tuned.

Post Thanksgiving Randoms.

I've been absent for awhile. I apologize. Remember all that homework I had to do? I finally finished. For now anyways. I submitted all of my article reviews last Monday night. As I was submitting my last article review, my internet went out. As in, my modem died. I had to email my professor and explain my dilemma as I sent my last assignment from school the next day. Luckily he believed me. I don't know if I would have believed me if I were him. It sounds like such a lie. "Sorry Professor. I can't submit my assignment because my internet went out." Pfft. Well, I tell no lies. It really went out. And I had to have the cable company come over on Wednesday. And I had to buy a new modem from them. The cold hard proof will be evident on my next cable bill if Professor really needs proof. Dang it.

Well, it's Sunday evening. That means I'm in my usual 'getting mentally prepared for the work week routine' funk. I shouldn't complain. I just had 5 consecutive days off. It just wasn't enough though. Between all of the eating, and the napping, and the shopping...shew. I just need more time off.
For real though. I'm ready for Christmas break already. Only 15 more work days until that's a reality.

One thing that makes me really happy about Sunday nights is watching Tough Love. I know you all are tired of hearing me talk about it. I just love that stinkin' show. And tonight's episode was so good. So much drama. If I was in the position of the girls on that show and had any of my exes show up, let me just tell you. I would have thrown up. All over the place. Like the wise Steve said, "Your ex is an ex for a reason." I couldn't agree more, Steve. I couldn't agree more. I just don't remain friends with an ex. Some people do, and that's great. Me? No way. That's just how I do it.

Yay for Thanksgiving. Did you all have a great one? I did. I love Thanksgiving because, well, it's all about the food. Turkey is okay, but I can really do without it. I'm a side dish kinda girl. Give me some dressing, mashed potatoes, green beans, mac and cheese, sweet potato crunch...yeah. That's the stuff.

I went Black Friday shopping. By myself. Nobody else was crazy enough to go with me. That's usually the case, so I get brave and go it alone. I was thrilled that many of the sales started at midnight this year. That's my kinda time to go shopping. I'm usually still wide awake at midnight anyway, so I might as well be shopping. I took a picture of where I parked in the mall parking lot.

This was the closest spot that I could find. It wasn't very close. 

The amount of people out was insane. I only bought a few things at Ulta (for myself). I don't necessarily go Black Friday shopping to do serious shopping. I like to go mainly for the people watching. People act so animalistic. They all have crazy eyeballs and act like they are wild animals that live in the Serengeti that are on the hunt for fresh meat. It's quite entertaining. I did go shopping again Black Friday night at an outlet mall. I did some pretty serious damage there. Again, all purchases for myself. I'm a pretty generous giver of gifts to myself.

I finally put up my Christmas tree tonight. I usually have mine up by the first or second week of November. Yes, I'm one of those over-anxious Christmas tree putter-upper girls. This year, well, I've slacked, but it's finally in the house. And it's partially decorated. I had to take a break. Decorating a tree is exhausting. And I'm super anal and OCD about it, so it's extra exhausting. It has to be balanced and the ornaments have to hang just right. I have to step away and study my decorating skills from afar. I feel like tree decorating shouldn't take this long. It takes me a good couple of hours.

My house looks such a fright right now. Dragging out all the Christmas stuff aids in junking things up before they get all pretty and decorated. I feel like my house is starting to resemble a Hoarders home. Clutter is everywhere and I have Mt. Laundry in my bedroom. It's driving me crazy.

In other news, and this is probably the most important news,  I got an interesting piece of mail when I went to my mailbox last night. I check my mail about once a week. Last night on my way out, I decided it was time for my weekly mail checking. It was already dark out, but I could make out a white cloth object mixed in with my mail. I was a little afraid because, like I said, it was dark and I couldn't see it very well. My thoughts were that it was either a shirt or a dead white squirrel. It was neither. It was...a bra. A brassiere. An over the shoulder boulder holder. In my mailbox. Mail was underneath it and mail was on top of it. That let me know that it had been in there for a few days. My postmaster has been looking at a random bra the past few times he's put mail in my mailbox.
I just stood on my street holding this bra and staring at it in disbelief. A million thoughts raced through my head. At first it was slight embarrassment and thoughts of 'who the hecks house did I leave this bra at and who sneakily returned it to me?'. I put my mail and my new (to me) bra in my passenger side seat because I was on my way to meet my friend. When she got in my car, she asked, "Why do you have a bra in your seat?" If only I knew the answer to that.
Here's the real kicker. The dang bra isn't mine. It wasn't until I was talking to her about it that I looked at the tag and I realized it wasn't mine. At all. Not my size. But it's a nice Victoria's Secret bra. The padding is a little misshapen after its week spent in my mailbox, but it's a nice bra and appears to be gently used. So to make things weirder, I have a complete random bra. That has never belonged to me. This bra has baffled me. It's the mystery of all mysteries. I need the Mystery Machine and all the gang to help me solve this one.

I have decided there are four possible scenarios for how the bra ended up in my mailbox:
1. Someone was doing some cleaning, came across a bra and thought it was mine. This person tried to be kind by returning what was rightly mine, or so they thought. They were wrong.

2. This bra was in my driveway or on the sidewalk in front of my house. A neighbor thought, 'Oh my. Sarah is airing her dirty laundry.' Literally. They didn't want me to be embarrassed so they put it in my mailbox.

3. My mail delivery guy has a crush on me and wanted to get me a little somethin', somethin'. At least he thinks my boobs are big. Just kidding, guys. Just kidding.

4. Someone was being a jokester and put a random bra in my mailbox to give my mail delivery guy a thrill for a few days. Real funny, prankster. Messing with mailboxes and putting unauthorized items in them is a federal offense. And plus, if it is a joke, I wouldn't be givin' up my V.S. Very Sexy collection. That's a high price brassiere.

Do you all have any creative scenarios to add?

Here's the bra in all of its padded booby glory.

So, that's what's been new in my life over the past few days. You know. Just the usual, every day stuff. What about you all? Any fun Thanksgiving family dysfunctional mishaps? Any mystery items appear in your mailbox? Do share.

Brain Dump.

Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. That's just me sighing.

Not to be cliche and stupid, but it's just been "one of those days". It started out alright enough. I woke up in a fine mood. Stupid tired, but in a fine mood. For whatever reason, I actually decided to put a little bit of effort into getting ready this morning. I wore heels. And I wore my hair down. And it was a gloomy and rainy day. So that's doing a lot.

You know, squirrels are pretty silly animals. On my way to school this morning, I had to stop my car and wait for a squirrel to make up its mind about what he was going to do. He looked like a spaz running back and forth across my side of the road in front of my car. His thought process was, "Other lane or woods? Other lane or woods? Other lane or woods?". Just silly. I started to get a little huffy.

By 10:00 this morning I decided I officially didn't like people today. It didn't help that I kinda had words with someone around that time. Let me clarify that she didn't have many words. No, it was all me. Showering my heated words all over her (as a result of her actions and a continuation of said actions, mind you). I showed myself a little bit. I'm not a hateful bitty and I hate confrontation. It takes a lot to make me mad to the point where I will show it and say something to your face. I have no problem being mad inside my head at all times, but if I verbalize my frustration directly at you, well, then you know I've reached my boiling point. And it's on.

And because that altercation obviously wasn't enough for me, during my lunch break I sent a text to a second recipient of my word attackage. I've been dealing with a frustrating issue for a month now and today it kind of came to a head. I hate that term. Slightly disgusting and inappropriate sounding. Anyway, my reaction was an "Aww hell naw" and an "Oh no she di-n't" type reaction. I'm just done and I want the mess to be resolved. It's ruining my life. Okay, that's way dramatic and it's not ruining my life, but I'm just tired of dealing with it. It's just become ridiculous.

What's funny is that later in the day, one of my friends texted me (she is also unfortunately involved in the above drama. We're obviously both the victims. Obviously.)
Her text was simply: "I hate everybody." I loved her for saying that. Hate was in the air today.

On the plus side, three different people told me I "looked skinny" today. What's funny is that I stepped on the scale this morning (I never weigh myself), and what's even funnier is that I've packed on a good 10 pounds lately. I'm a stress eater and I've definitely been stress eating.
I was grateful for the kind compliments--I definitely needed them today, but it was strictly the outfit I was wearing. It was deceiving on the eyeballs. Black pants and a top that has a belt under the boobs. It's pure trickery, I tell you. It takes away from the junk in the trunk and hips (my problem areas) and draws the eyes up to the waist and boobages. Which, is exactly what you need to be drawing eyes to in an elementary school...

Moving on.

Despite my bad day, I am always thankful that I have a roomful of kids to be around. I have to say that they were a bit off the chain today because they were totally exhibiting "snow behavior", but regardless, they are still fun, and sweet, and they make me smile. I think some kids can just sense when we're having an off day and they're very understanding about it.
One of my little girls (who is very perceptive) came up to me and asked, "Are you sad?" I told her that I wasn't necessarily sad but that I was stressed out. She said, "My Mommy gets stressed out a lot and that makes her yell. Are you going to yell?" I assured her that I was not, even though it would have felt amazing to release a blood-curdling scream. She walked away. She then came back up to me a few minutes later and said, "Maybe you just need to eat a cookie. Then you won't be so stressed out."

Later in the afternoon during our Free Center time, the same little girl was in the Play-doh Center. She made me three Play-doh "cookies" to help with my stress. She used alphabet cookie cutters and cut out a letter S and two M's. She lined them up on my desk: S, M, M and said, "These are your initials." I told her she was close but the middle initial was wrong. She said, "No, it's not. You're Sarah Ms. Marcum." Hilarious. Makes sense.

I went to the grocery to buy a carton of ice cream tonight. It helped. A little. I'm completely eating my feelings lately. I'm on a path of destruction.

I really wish I could say that things are going to look up, but this week is only going to get crazier. And this Procrastinator Extraordinaire has so much homework due by Saturday that it's not even funny. Not funny at all. Like, I can't even think about it or I'm going to cry. I'll have to be touched by an angel to get it all finished. I will pay someone to help me do article reviews. I'm not kidding. If you need to make some extra cash for the holiday season, hit me up.

I shouldn't have stopped doing homework to even write this blog post, but blogging was a form of procrastination, so of course it won. I'm not trying to be all whiny and complainy to get sympathy. I simply needed to vent and Blogger was the solution tonight. Blogging is a free form of therapy. I already feel better.

I don't know why I'm so in love with quotation marks and parentheses usage in this post. Please forgive.

Probably the most pointless post of all time.

Great day today. I was off school for Election Day. I didn't have to set my alarm and that is always a wonderful feeling. I had some lazy time, napped (a couple times), did some organizing, went through my closet and got rid of old clothes--so I accomplished a little bit. Definitely didn't do one bit of the mounds of grad school homework I have. Oops.

I was in the spirit of being free today. In honor of Election Day.

I guess I need to give this post a PG-13 rating due to the language in the above text. If you're 13 and under, please close out your web browser now. Thank you.

I love WrongNumberTexts.com. I spent some quality time on that site today.
Here's a couple more that make me smile.

On to the next thing...

Can we talk about this commercial for a minute? I've got to talk about it. Mainly because I've seen it 5300 times today. It's the Hardee's Cheddar Biscuit commercial. Have you all seen it? If you haven't, I'm providing it for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy.

It's HORRIBLE and annoying, yet I laugh every single time it comes on TV. I hate myself for laughing at it. And I'm not really even laughing because it's funny. I think I laugh because these people are so unfortunate and it makes me feel uncomfortable so I inappropriately laugh. That makes me sound like an ugly, ugly person (not as ugly as them, mind you), but, well...I mean look at that family. Yeesh. Their fashion sense! Their poor appearances! That son! What do we even say about that son? And that mothers horse mouth...
I would feel really bad if one of you left me a comment and was like, "...but this is my family in real life..." I would feel really bad for you.

And the sad thing is that I have fallen into Hardee's advertisement trap. I'm right where they want me. I keep thinking about this commercial and its cheesy creepiness and now I'm sharing it on my blog and talking about it with the masses. Everyone is going to want to go get Cheddar Biscuits. It will be anarchy.

Well. That's all the fun I have for now. Later, friends.

Special Called Business Meeting.

So yesterday's blog post title was "I Set Fire to My Blog". I'm thinking my 'follower' button really is starting to smoke because dang, y'all. I've gained over 30+ followers in the past 24 hours. I am amazed and NEVER thought I'd have over 100 people that would ever want to read my ridiculous random ramblings, but I'm so glad you want to. You all makin' me smile. Welcome aboard this crazy train.

Now, I am going to call a little business meeting regarding commenting/replying to comments.

Let's rewind it back a bit. A couple posts back I mentioned that I can't always comment back to some of my commenters. This doesn't mean that I don't try or want to. Let me clarify what I mean because there may be some confusion. When I receive a comment on this blog, your comment is automatically sent to my personal email address: sarah.marcum@gmail.com. My phone goes 'ding' and I get an email telling me that a lovely person just left me nice words. It makes me happy and I decide to write them back to say thanks or answer a question or whatever the cause may be for reply.

Now this is where is gets a little sticky. Many of you that have commented on my blog lately are "no-reply comment bloggers".  I open up the comment email from you, press reply, write out my response, press send and then what to my wondering eyes should appear--I discover my reply email is being sent to nowhere because you are a...duh, duh, duh..."no-reply comment blogger". This makes me say, "Bollocks!".

Maybe you don't even know you're a "no-reply comment blogger". To help give you a hint, I'll just tell you that out of all the comments I've received on my blog in the past day, the only person that I've been able to reply back to directly is this lady: Lisa G. Pat yourself on the back, Lisa G. You are a reply comment blogger.

Maybe you want to remain a no-reply comment blogger so that I won't bother you with an email reply, but if you want to fix it, here's how. It's easy as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

1. Go to your Dashboard.
2. Click Edit Profile (beside your pretty little profile picture).
3. Under the Privacy section, check the box that says, "Show my email address".
4. Look down in the Identity section and make sure you've entered in your email address.
*If the box wasn't checked or you didn't have an email address entered--guess what? You're a no-reply comment blogger.
5. Go down to the bottom of the screen and 'Save profile'. Always save that work.

Wham bam, thank you ma'am. We're now in business. I just feel bad when I can't write a commenter back and thank them for their kind words. Hopefully this will help us all out a little.

Conclusion of business meeting. Thank you for your attention. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

So I'm a little sad because it got dark at 5:00 tonight but that's the price we pay for falling back and getting an extra hour of sleep. I hate that it gets dark so quickly with this time change but I do love how it feels like today has dragged by so slowly. It's been awesome. It just means an extra hour of laziness for me today.

The only thing productive I've done today was to shower and drive myself to the grocery. I bought food, came home and made food, and proceeded to eat all of said food. My belly is full and happy. I also bought myself a treat because I like to buy treats for myself. I bought a MexiCoke to go with my delicious Mexican cuisine. These Cokes are so much more delicious. I'll take sugar over high-fructose corn syrup any day. Plus a glass bottle just makes for a better tasting drink.

Even though I've seen every episode at least three times each already, I've been watching the Tough Love Miami marathon today. The new episode starts in the next few minutes and I'm excited. I'm addicted. Addicted to love. Love that is tough, to be exact.

Usually I have Sunday night depression thinking about the upcoming busy work week, but the good news is that I only have to make it through tomorrow and I'll have another day off. We're off Tuesday for Election Day. Yippee.

Bye for now, lovers.

I Set Fire To My Blog.

Now that I have the attention of all the pyromaniacs out there, I didn't really set fire to my blog. Sorry to disappoint. That would be destructive and sad. I don't intentionally set fires. With me, they just sort of happen. Like when I try to cook something or start a grill and there's an explosion.

Anyway--this post goes out to a teeny tiny teacher I know named Kristin over at A Teeny Tiny Teacher. She likes me so that makes me automatically like her. She's been extra nice to me lately by being a commenter extraordinaire and she just shouted me out on her own blog and has brought crazy amounts of traffic my way. It's only natural that I give her some time in my little blogs spotlight. Thanks, pal among pals.

She also recently passed on a blog award to me:

With this award, I'm supposed to list 7 things about myself. It's no secret that I like to talk about myself. You all know that. I am my favorite subject. The problem is that I've done so many 'about me' and random fact posts that I'm running out of material. Is that possible? Probably not.

1. I'm watching the LSU/Alabama game. Okay, so that's a lie. The game is on as background noise. I'm not watching it. My brother is. However, with it being on, I've decided that I wouldn't mind being an Alabama fan due to the houndstooth factor. Houndstooth is one of my very favorite prints. I have a coat, heels, hair accessories, scarves, cosmetic bags--this list could go on and on and on. I own many, many houndstooth items. It's probably disgusting.

2. I hate cleaning out my refrigerator. This is one of my random facts because it's currently on my mind and on my to-do list. I have a lot of things I need to throw away in there. Some of the stuff has been in the fridge for awhile...and I'm kinda scared. Scared of what I'm going to see and scared of the possible smells that may hit me in the face when I open up certain containers.

3. Writing 'fridge' in the statement up above reminded me of something. I hate when people jack up abbreviations and spell them wrong. There's this lady I work with that always writes 'frig'. It's not a frig. Frig means something not very nice. Does she not know? No. Of course she doesn't. This is a picture I took of a sign that was in our workroom at school. Turkey in the frig? No thank you.

You know what other word I don't like? Bequeathed. It just sounds so nasty. Bequeathed. Ew.

4. I always wear a hair tie around my wrist (as evidenced in the picture below). Just ignore the stupidness of this picture--it's strictly being used as an example of hair tie wearing. I do feel like I need to explain the face I'm making though. This pic was taken back in the summer and I was acting "scared" of the man behind me that was being a creeper. Instead it just appears that I'm eating my finger off. Unfortunate picture.
My friends and I were inside of a local establishment and this man was all up in my business. He was leaning in my personal space and being awkward. We went outside to escape his awkward wrath and he followed and sat right behind me. Yeah. Stupid story. I said to just ignore it.

5. If I could be an animal I would want to be a peacock. They're so majestic and they squawk so loudly. And their feathers make for beautiful feather earring inspirations nowadays. And look at their little feather mohawks on their head. Dang. I sure like you, little guy.

However, I feel like if J.C. had it His way, He'd probably think I was better suited as an emu instead. I mean, she's just so pissed. And look at her head. Constant bad hair days. I feel like this is more of my normal "look", so if I were an animal, I'd probably be an emu. Sigh.

6. If I was Oprah and I had to pick one thing as my "favorite thing", it would be my Sunbeam heated blanket. I plug this thing in and use it every single night while I sit on my couch. If I were rich like Oprah, I would give all of you your very own heated blanket so that you too could experience the joy. "You get a blanket, and you get a blanket! You get a blanket! You get one too!". This is so exciting. We're all going to be so warm and happy. Too bad I'm not Oprah.

7. Hmm. We're now to #7. Our fun is coming to an end, as is my ability to think. I'm going to leave this one open to you. I have recently had a lot of new friends join my blog yard. What do you want to know? Any questions from the audience? Anyone...? Ask away, dear children. No question is too big or off limits. I will pretty much answer anything--I'm honest like Abe.

I'm excited about my extra hour of life I'm getting tonight. What are you doing with your extra hour? I'm definitely not using mine to get ahead on the tons of grad school homework I have. It would just be ridiculous to use it to my advantage.