Yes, I was there.

We drove down to Dallas Friday afternoon to cheer on the Sooners- and subsequently watched them lose on Saturday. Sure, I could talk offense with you, or Sam Bradford, but really? Why waste a good internet space?

My point exactly.

Perhaps the biggest travesty is the fact that I didn’t even get a fried snickers out of the whole ordeal. I seriously anticipate those things like a junior high boy encountering his first set of junior high girl lips.

Seriously. I LOVE. LOVE. LOVE those things.

And once a freaking year I get the opportunity to have them. And I missed it this year. All because I didn’t get one before the game and we darted out of there after the stupid Sooner loss. Can I blame this on them?

Let’s.

So can we just move on? I had this whole cutesy post in my mind about Rivalry Week, but with the loss (and lack of fried snickers) I think it’s best to tuck it away for next year.

Assuming we win.

Moving on.

If I recall correctly I promised you guys a B-Love moment, yes?

So last Friday the group I work directly with went out to lunch. In addition to “the group,” the vice president of our section as well as the director, program manager, and my boss accompanied us. So, although it was a casual lunch there are still certain things that just aren’t appropriate to discuss over grilled fish with the VP, you know?

To set it up, to the left of me is my coworker that I work most closely with. Directly in front of me is our director- and on one side of him is the VP, and on the other is the program manager.

So everyone is talking, no big deal, and somehow the conversation goes to dancing. Who knows how, and really it’s irrelevant. It gets mentioned that none of us (the girls at the table- one being my boss and the other being the person sitting right next to me) danced at the Christmas party last year. My boss and coworker friend quickly remind everyone at the table that they did in fact dance at the Christmas party.

I, however, did not.

See, I have very strict rules about dancing. Rules perhaps I will share with you all in another post. Rules that include never, ever dancing at work functions.

I live by these rules and they cannot be broken.

Anyway- it is because of these rules I did not dance at the Christmas party.

That and no other reason.

“Brittny, didn’t dance,” someone said.

And then all of a sudden, with no lag in response time, with no thought of the implications of the reaction, my coworker spewed, “That’s because Brittny was drunk.”

Silence.

Mortification.

Awkwardness.

Laughter.

Hello VP of my office, director, and BOSS! Your apparent alcoholic employee will be tipping back a flask of tequila in the bathroom now.

My face got so hot and I literally started to sweat. I looked over at her and she looked at me and immediately said, “I’m so sorry! I have no idea why I just said that!”

And then for the rest of lunch that was all that was discussed.

Nice.

For the record?

So not drunk at the Christmas party. Sure I had some wine, but I was no where near inebriation. More like what I like to consider as “Brittny Plus.” But I mean the more you’re at the table swearing you weren’t drunk, the more people think that you were, you know?

”Sure we believe you. You weren’t drunk. Riiight.”

Ugh.

After the awkward laughter, and “I’m so sorrys” from my coworker, it was finally time to go.

Thank God. There are just some things you don’t want your bosses to know about you, and that? That is definitely one of them.

I can’t help but cringe every time I think about it.

As well as every time I see those people in the hall.

Can I please be sick at the Christmas party this year?

Better yet, I think we should have our own Christmas party?

Apparently I’m lots of fun.

(ha ha)

So tomorrow I’m headed to Colorado for a quick overnight trip. I think it was snowing up there earlier last week, but thankfully I just checked the weather and it looks like it will be pretty decent. How much would it suck to get stranded, right?

That’s my only news right now.

Crazy thought- but how about I try to post multiple times this week like a normal blogger!? Great idea.

Let’s cross our fingers that I don’t suck.

Boredom will make you do crazy things.

Like eat.

Or post for no good reason.

Or watch totally stupid crap on TV (Hello MTV True Life!).

Or quite possibly the worst of all-

Facebook.

I know.

How dare I speak ill of our beloved Facebook right?

Ha- don’t worry, I’m not.

Truth be told I think I’ve spent more hours on there the last month than I have my entire Facebook “career.”

Heh.

Facebook Career.

But something gets terribly skewed when you’re so.incredibly.bored and sit online for hours despite having plenty to do.

(cough- cleaning)

You start on the homepage looking at all the updates.

Then you go to your page (for the billionth time) to see who’s left you a comment.

And then you go to a few of you favorite friends’ pages and say hello, see what’s been going on etc.

And then you sit there.

Bored again.

You could clean.

Who are you kidding? You’d way rather sit in front of a computer screen than face your laundry pile.

You could go for a walk.

Eh… fresh air is overrated.

So once again you’re in front of the computer screen.

And then it happens.

You start looking at all your friend’s pages.

You begin looking at all their posts, their pictures, and their friends.

There’s no nice way to put it.

You’re facebook stalking.

The more friends you look at the crazier you get. It’s like this switch flips on and you’ve become this crazy ex girlfriend sitting outside your Facebook friend’s house waiting for them to come home from their date so you can size up the girlfriend’s car and hair and shoes.

It’s like you’ve become the creepy guy that calls your crush a million times but every time she pics up the phone and says hello you panic, chicken out, and hang up.

It’s like you’re BE FRI part of the BEST FRIENDS necklace and are watching to make sure that ST ENDS is not cheating on you.

You’re completely out of control!

Sigh…

As you can see, I’ve been way too bored the last few days. Although I don’t think I’m anywhere near the crazy ex girlfriend facebook stalker status, I must admit I’ve logged a lot of hours on that poor site. It’s like I’m studying for an MFA- and it’s not a Master of Fine Arts. It’s a Master of Facebook Activities.

Thankfully I can say I have never gotten into the whole, “So and So wants to invite you to have a drink on them! or So and So thinks you’re the 9th nicest person they know! Vote for them too!” So, I mean my Facebook activity could most definitely be far worse I suppose.

Right?

It’s like this awful drug that keeps reeling you in! You want to stop so bad. You want to stop and be a productive member of society but you’re so tempted by that high. That “one last hit” on someone’s wall…

it hurts so good.

So, I’m trying to quit.

Okay, I’m lying. I’m not trying to quit.

Although I’d be a genius if I could invent a patch for quitting Facebook.

Hmmm....

Anyway- I really need to tear myself off of the computer a little more so I can be more productive this fall.

I could take up knitting.

Or basket weaving.

Or sopapilla making.

Or maybe just learn how to spell “sopapilla.”

...

Or I could just stay on Facebook.

I could do that too.

Maybe I’ll try to quit another day. That sounds like a plan.

See you on your wall (or outside your house).

I swear I’m only kidding about the house part. I’m not a Facebook stalker.

Hey I saw that look! I’m not and you know it. Scouts honor.

<3

I locked myself out of the house this afternoon.

But wait- there’s more.

There’s always more.

I keep waiting for a time in which my bad fortune no longer follows me, however that time has yet to come and once again reared its ugly head in the form of a locked door today.

Let’s get started.

Okay. So today is Will’s birthday. Yay for Will’s birthday!

I was determined to make today great.

Which was my first mistake.

I should know by now that if I’m out to make a day great something is lurking around the corner to squash my plans.

Will I ever learn?

Work was really busy all morning and I really needed to work through lunch, however I thought it might be a good idea to run home today, check on the doggies, and grab a quick lunch- which is what I did.

As I finished my lunch I noticed it was raining pouring outside. I thought I better get an umbrella to take with me to avoid the downpour, only I realized my umbrella was in my car- and Will had my car today.

Aha! I remembered I had a random umbrella out in the garage. So- barefoot and all I ran out to the garage (closing the door behind me, of course) and grabbed the umbrella. As I went to enter the house it happened.

The door wouldn’t open.

I then began to feel a little panicky, sick to my stomach and started experincing that yucky upper lip sweat.

I pryed and jolted and yelled (you know- because yelling always unlocks bolted doors) but nothing happened.

I then got the genius idea to use a screwdriver to leverage the door between the frame.

Um, the terrible dig marks in the door frame clearly yell, “That wasn’t a good idea you freaking moron!!!”

Yeah- so don’t do that.

So then I began to get totally irrational and ridiculous. Like a mad woman. “I know, I’ll run and thrust my body against the door to force it open!”

Okay- so I didn’t really do that, but trust me- I was quite irrational nonetheless.

So… what to do, what to do…

I had a pair of nasty old tennis shoes and a pair of tacky black cheap-o flip flops.

Choices, choices.

I lifted the garage, opened my umbrella and started knocking on doors up and down my street.

In the rain.

The pouring rain.

In a pretty white dress.

A pretty white dress.

In tacky black cheap-o flip flops (I figured that went better with my dress… in that trashy sort or, “I like to dress up but have no regard for what I wear on my feet” sort of way).

No one answered.

Why would they? They were al at work- where I needed to be.

Up and down the street. Finally! Someone answered. This woman across the street had just had a baby and was home- thank God for your baby woman! It was if God allowed you to have your kid so you would be home at this exact.moment.in.time.

Okay- so maybe not, but it did feel a little like a divine moment after trudging up and down my neighborhood in the pouring rain, pretty white dress, and tacky flip flops.

Anyway- she was gracious enough to let me in and use the phone. I called Will- who was not in town today (of course!). He told me to call a locksmith and work it out that way.

Oh- and he was annoyed that I managed to lock myself out.

Happy birthday honey!

Anyway, the lady told me that she could just go ahead and take me back to work so that I wouldn’t have to wait for a locksmith and pay for him to come out. I thought it was so nice of her to offer. I have very nice neighbors. I graciously accepted, took my tacky flip flops, got in her car and went back to work.

As we rode back I realized that there were a few bad things I had failed to think through when deciding not to call the locksmith.

1. My purse was in the truck, totally exposed for all the world to see and steal.

Genius Brittny.

Will tells me time after time, “Brittny- bring your purse inside and don’t leave it in the car!” And for once in my life he was so very right (actually, he’s always right about this one...). My freaking locked house was beyond safe at this point. I could most certainly confirm all doors were locked! Sigh…

Then there were the doggies.

The doggies stay in a kennel all day long because you may remember they’re quite naughty and cannot be trusted to roam around the house all alone.

Just recall this post or this one or this one.

Good times.

Anyway- they’re bad doggies and cannot be trusted.

And I had left them in the house.

All alone.

Home alone doggies.

To roam free.

And chew my wood.

And the shoes I was wearing as of 11:30 this morning and should have been wearing as I was riding to work.

I could just imagine what was happening to my house.

What a mistake to leave them out!

Sigh…

Will loved finding that out.

Oh- and I didn’t tell him. I just let him come home and be surprised.

Surprise! Happy birthday!

Anyway… it’s been quite a day.

Will picked me up from work and I felt back because I had to have him drive me to get his cake oh- and I had intended to get his birthday card on the way home too. Opps.

So- there you have it.

There’s probably a ton more I’m leaving our and need to share but Will wants me to watch “Dating in the Dark” tonight because this guy on his favorite sports talk radio was talking about how funny it was.

I think it’s weird.

But hey- it’s his birthday, and I did leave our kids home alone today.

Oh- and locked myself out.

Let’s not forget that one.

Genius. 

Or Agony.

But really- aren’t they one in the same?

Oh- and sorry to all you auditors out that that may read this. I know it’s your job and it’s helpful to us and all that crap- but seriously?- audits suck.

And I’m sure you hear that all the time.

P says I should be glad I’m having a work audit and not a life audit. She says scientologists have life audits or something like that.

Is that true?

I’m pretty sure I would fail a life audit.

It would go something like this:

Have you been diligent to stay below your alloted fat and calorie intake on a daily basis?

(silence)

Have you helped old ladies across the street?

(silence)

Have you read all the Harry Potter books?

(silence)

Have you read any of the Harry Potter books?

(silence)

Have you made sure not to daydream about famous actors such as Orlando Bloom or James Franco?

(silence)

Do you know who the Secretary of Agricultural Relational Studies and Law is? (ha ha)

(silence)

Yeah… pretty sure I would fail a life audit. Although, I thought of a ton of freaking hilarious questions that may have come up during this life audit of mine- only to avoid you guys thinking I’m a total wack-o I kept it mild.

So, there you have it. Getting audited- but thankfully not life audited.

Hope you guys are having a good week!

1. I bought a shirt the other day from The Gap that Will doesn’t know about. In fact- it was only $5 but I still gave it to Rachel to hold until our next gym date. I’m a dork and have no idea why I did that. Perhaps because we’re going through Dave Ramsey’s course and I felt a little guilty? (yes- a freaking $5 shirt. What a crazy.) Anyway- I figured it was a good confession to share.

2. I saw someone I work out at the same gym with at Walmart this afternoon. I secretly LOVE that I ran into someone that works out at the same place I do- especially when I’m having a good hair day and look put together. I.look.beyond.awful. when I go to the gym, so I always feel Ace when I run into someone who has seen me sweating all over myself (you know- sweat dripping from every nook and cranny, red puffy face, veins popping...)- and then sees me “normal.” Trust me guys- I’m a scary sight on gym mornings.

3. I ate fried alligator today. Really- I did.

4. I did end up bringing a bottle of “water” with me to the wedding weekend extravaganza. It turned out to be a good decision.

5. I found out this afternoon that someone I work with was a stripper to pay his way through college. This in and of it self is sort of hilarious- to find out someone you have a professional relationship with used to wear textured and colored thongs and probably had some sort of signature “move."However, what makes it even more hilarious is how totally out of character it is for this person- a very cerebral, brainiac. Not the stripper type at all. Anyway- my confession is that everytime I saw him this afternoon I couldn’t stop laughing. I literally had to excuse myself from an office he was in today because I thought I might snort trying to keep myself from laughing. Good times.

Anything you need to share?

P:I just read your blog. I’m pleased to hear you were wearing underwear.

Me:Yeah- I was just going to direct you there. It was bad. I felt all dent-y and fat all day.

P:Believe me he wasn’t looking at that. He hasn’t seen young a** like that in 30 years. You just gave him his Father’s Day early.

***

Coworker:You should have just played it off and talked about it- making everyone else uncomfortable too! You should have been all, “Hey Mother-in-law- I didn’t mean to leave you out! I guess you need to see too!” and then pretend to lift your skirt.

HA HA

Yeah- I can just imagine how that would have went over with Pat.

Fun times. Just thought I’d share because both these comments cracked me up.

Watching “Jon and Kate” right now. I think they’re announcing their divorce tonight. I know we’re outsiders looking in, and we only see a portion of their life, but anybody have opinions on this situation?

More to come <3

There are times in my life where I really believe things happen to me simply so I will get off my duff and post about them. It’s as if the “blogging gods” look up from their golden computers and say,

“Hey! That ‘B-Love’ girl hasn’t posted in a while. What’s her problem!? Writers block? I guess she needs us to help our out. We’ll give her something to write about and make her so afraid of it happening again that she’ll continue to post on a regular basis to avoid our wrath. Muahahahaha” <- a giant strike of lightening flashes behind them and they all rub their hands together all evil-like…

And then the lightening hits their servers and they all cry and put their nerdy glasses and pocket protectors back on and try to remedy the problem.

Oh- but not before cursing me, of course.

So- yesterday that’s exactly what happened. It has been a while since I’ve posted- which of course translates into some sort of calamity. I should have known some sort of awful moment was lurking around the corner for me! I can’t go a week or more without posting and not have something happen to share.

We went to visit Will’s family for father’s day yesterday. We decided to have an early lunch, so we hopped in the car and headed to the restaurant. Pat and I sat in the backseat, while Will and his dad sat up front. As we pulled into the restaurant Will’s dad thought it would be nice to get the car door for me. He opened the door- and then it happened.

However, before we discuss “it,” I should explain something so the incident is clearer. I’m pretty low maintenance on the weekends. I try to do as little as possible to get myself ready. I’ve also become a big cotton skirt and dress wearer during the summer. They’re so comfortable and breathable and easy to throw on and look decent in… they’re amazing. Oh- and they’re even better when you’re feeling gigantic because they hide your fat and somehow make you feel a little better about yourself.

So- that being said, I was wearing a flowy black cotton skirt.

As Will’s dad opened the door a giant wind, what I have now begun to call, The Great Wind came upon us all. I swear it was so windy I saw a Chihuahua fly right past me. The wind angrily howled all around us- and before I knew it, the wind had somehow crawled underneath my skirt and raised it all the way up against my back- thereby exposing my entire lower body- black underwear and slightly hail dented legs for the whole world to see-

Oh and right (and I mean RIGHT) in front of my father in law!

Yes- go ahead and cringe. You can even scream if you want to, I know I wanted to.

Oh- and to make matters way, way worse- not only has Will’s dad seen downstairs- he’s also seen upstairs too. You may recall this post in which he saw me in my leopard print bra?

Yeah- I pretty much wanted to bawl my eyes out of embarrassment, and gouge his mind’s eye out of its socket.

I’m sure you understand.

So I grabbed my skirt and ran straight to the bathroom and tried to gain my composure. I was so so so mortified!

Mortified.

So what do I do? I run and tell someone what happened, you know, because that’s the totally normal thing to do- have something awful happen to you that you want to forget but run and text someone the whole story. Brilliant.

So, I texted P.

I kept thinking to myself, “Maybe he didn’t see?” Maybe I blinded him with my ghastly white legs so he wasn’t able to see a thing! I knew I hadn’t been tanning for a reason. I just kept thinking of ways that maybe I was overreacting and it wasn’t that bad.

But it was that bad.

I realized I couldn’t stay in the bathroom the rest of the day and that eventually I would have to come out and expose myself to the world. (<- ha ha, I’m pretty sure I had done enough exposing for one day. What I mean to say is that I needed to get out of the bathroom already and try to enjoy a meal with my in-laws.<- ha ha, that's funny. Enjoy a meal with my in-lawsIsn’t that sort of like an oxymoron?)

So- I came out of the bathroom and sat down at our booth. I always sit across from Pat when we eat- always. Always but for some reason yesterday of all days Pat took the inside and Will’s dad took the outside. Will was already comfortably sitting in his spot so I couldn’t really make a big deal about the whole seating arrangements. So- instead I gracefully sat down, directly in front of my FIL, and placed the menu right in front of my face.

Will’s dad made jokes like normal (um- NOT about what had happened, of course) and basically acted like nothing had happened which sort of made me feel better. I really wanted to believe he hadn’t seen my giant derriere flapping in the wind, so him just acting normal helped me to pretend that he didn’t.

Even though let’s face it- he so did.

Let’s just say yesterday’s lunch felt like the longest day of my life.

And let’s also say that a valuable lesson had been learned today-

No, it’s not that you should never wear skirts.

It’s not that you shouldn’t let your father-in-law open the door for you either.

It’s not even that you should have Casper white legs.

It’s that the wind is one sick, perverted, ancient old man that seriously needs to be contained.

It’s Thursday night and I still have nothing to talk about.

It’s so bad in fact that I’ve contemplated opening the phone book to a random page and calling some random person with an awful cliche’ prank joke.

Yeah… it’s been that uneventful.

Sadly, Will won’t let me. He says it’s totally immature to do something like that. 

What does he know, right? He never has any fun (ha ha).

Finally Friday. I’m sure more interesting posts are in my future. After all, the weekend has arrived!

So Will has a pair of pants he uses to do stuff around the house in. I call them “work pants.”

Today we discovered they had a small hole in the crotch- and Will asked me to “fix them.”

Fix them.

As if I ran around the house in a big fluffy skirt and pearls and had breakfast prepared at 6:00 on the dot each morning. Perfectly prepared eggs over easy- never too runny.

Sigh.

The truth is that I’m no Donna Reed.

Times are tough these days in America and I really thought it would be a good idea to help stretch these work pants- so I went to Walmart today in hopes of finding a sewing kit.

Only Walmart- the place that has “everything-” did not have a sewing kit.

So I opted for a needle and thread and a prayer that all would work out.

But we’ll get to that part soon.

So I began aimlessly threading my needle, wandering in and out of the fabric.

Um- it pretty much looked like a three year old hacked away at it. Remember those yarn paper weaving arts and crafts things you used to make?

It looked like that.

You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?

Trust me. That means it was bad.

It was at that moment- when I realized I sucked and was cutting the yarn and hopelessly pulling it out- that it hit me.

I think as a whole we’re not nearly as domestic and self sufficent as we used to be.

I mean think about it- I freaking slapped pudding into a pre-made pie crust and topped it with cool whip and called it a pie.

AND

AND

I even complained about not being able to use INSTANT pudding.

Wow. How said is that!?

Sure- it technically is a “pie"- but seriously? That’s no pie.

I can barely sew a button. I will if I’m in a pinch, but the truth is that I have like 3 items of clothing that I plan on taking to a seamstress simply to sew.on.a.freaking.button! Seriously- I suck.

Do you guys realize that basic sewing used to be a household MUST like a decade ago? It’s so crazy to me to think how much things have changed over the years. It seems like are a lot of these sort of things in which were very common just a couple decades ago but are not as widely practice these days. Um- like making our husbands breakfast every morning, or stitching a dime size hole for crying out loud!

Yes- I realize it’s because we’re “out there” in the world, making a difference, changing the world, being amazing career womans AND wives and mothers. I get it.

I mean- sure I realize I suck for not being able to sew my husband’s pants, but the truth is that I’m in good company. I’d say there’s quite a few of us out there that don’t “make” our pies.

We hide dirty dishes in our oven when unexpected company comes because (gasp) there are times in which our house isn’t spotless.

We’re no Donna Reeds.

I’ll admit, I felt a little discouraged tonight when I couldn’t simply fix a tiny hole in Will’s pants. I should be able to do that! I should be capable of weaving a piece of freaking thread neatly in and out of a piece of thin cloth and taking care of my family! How hard can this possibly be!? Apparently pretty tough.

So I’m sitting here throwing myself a pity party because I’m not Donna Reed.

And I know you guys may think less of me-

but I want to be a Donna Reed.

There. I said it.

I want to wear high heels and make breakfast for Will and never sweat when I’m cleaning the oven. I want to be able to freaking sew.a.hole. for crying out loud!

more pity partying

So here’s what I’m thinking.

There are definitely things I can work on to improve my household. Small things.

The big things- you know- the seriously HUGE crisis things like sewing a pair of pants (ha ha)- I figure I’ll handle one case at a time.

...

Actually.

Guys-

maybe I am becoming a little bit of Donna Reed.

I mean- it’s 2009.

I can’t sew my husband’s pants.

I admit it.

However I know exactly where to go to get it fixed the right way. The first time.

I call that being smart. And resourceful.

Not only that- but I mean, while someone else is doing what they’re good at, I can work on doing something marvelous!

Like baking a real pie,

or- you know, painting my nails…

We’re living in a different time and Donna Reed is evolving. I guess it’s not about living our life like they did in the 50s. It’s about living smart in Donna Reed fashion, but also enjoying the modern technologies time has afforded us and combining the two into greatness!

So, although I can’t sew my poor husband’s pants, I can make a mean pie. And wear high heels. And paint my nails. And dial the pizza guy.

Genius.

xo,

The New Donna Reed

Me: It’s so humid today and I’m at the gym and it’s so busy and I’m sweating uncontrollably! I’m pouring! I’m so embarrassed.

P: Brittny, do you want to make me angry? 1. You went to the gym. 2. It’s humid which gives the effect of a sauna. So it’s like you worked out double. So jealous!