I'm going somewhere where no Schwager has gone before. I'm giving up...gasp... CAFFEINE!
Every since I can remember, my mom has had a Diet Coke glued to her hand. And, before that, my diabetic grandmother sucked down regular Coca-Cola. Even the thought of regular Coke makes me want to hurl. My mom and dad drink a pot of coffee together every morning and my sister, Gina, is addicted to tea. And Jacy, well, Jacy would drink every pop in sight if possible. However, her absolute fave is Orange Hi-C. (double yuck!)
Then there's me. When I form an addiction, I don't go halvsies on it. I go all-the-way. And I have two addictions. 1) Caffeine and 2) Frozen Yogurt. And I don't have any plans to give up No. 2. I have to support my local yogurt shops! But caffeine on the other hand? I think I can sacrifice caffeine.
Or so I thought...
I'm going on day two without caffeine and I feel like crying because my head hurts soooo damn bad. Seriously, I feel like someone has driven a golf tee into my temples and is now launching golf balls off of my head every five seconds. It's miserable. And, I can't fix the headache because the only thing that gets rid of my terrible headaches is Excedrin Migraine. You don't happen to know what the key ingredient of Excedrin Migraine is by chance, do you? Yeah, it's caffeine. Go-frickin'-figure. And the alternative to OTC Migraine meds are my prescription headache meds and they cost, like, $4 a pill. I think I'll suffer.
So why give up caffeine? Well, word on the street is that coffee dehydrates you. Not great for someone who has started working out more. For every cup of coffee I drink in the morning (which is around seven cups), I have to drink double that in water to stop feeling thirsty. OH, and did I mention I have three or so diet sodas per day? I guess that's not too hot for anyone? I guess fake sugars in diet sodas preserve fat cells and they make the fat get fatter. FML. Did I know any of this? Nope! But thanks to Jillian Michaels, she's filled me in on quite a lot in her book "Master Your Metabolism." I may be too scared to eat again. Everything we eat is bad for us - including caffeine!!
I'm sure I'll have the occassional cup o' Joe every so often, but seriously, giving up coffee is worse than giving up Runza. Coffee was my security blanket. It woke me up in the morning and helped me be more productive in the afternoon. Now I feel like a sloth. HELP!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Throw Back
I've decided my blogs have become a little dry. Instead of filling y'all with fun stories, I've used this to bitch about things that drive me crazy. (Did you notice how I used y'all? I'm not entirely sure what I used before y'all. Did I really say "you all" or "you guys"? If so, that sounds completely stupid. Seriously, next time you are talking to a group of people, keep track of what you say instead of y'all. I'm curious. But I'm in the South now and by God, I will use y'all. You should try it!)
Anyway, I thought this would be a great time for an old school story. It was the Fourth of July back in 2004 and Chambers was having its usual Fourth of July festivities back when Chambers had awesome Fourth of July festivities. Every year, Chambers held a Road Rally, where a group of people would set forth in a car on a kick-ass scaventer hunt. Usually the Road Rally takes place around the country roads of Chambers. However, in 2004, the makers of the Road Rally decided to take it "off road." So, me and my friends, Bryan, Tim, Brett and Brady went on the Off-Road Rally in Tim's bronco. He had taken off the top of his bronco, so we were flying around the country roads with the wind whipping through our hair. Well, mostly my hair. I think they all had short hair. Well, except for Tim. He always kept his kind of shaggy.
Anywho, I should have known the day was going to spell disaster when we were on a section line and the bronco took a bull hole and flew us up out of our seats at least three feet. I banged the shit out of my head on bronco's roll bars and nearly knocked myself out. The Road Ralley was especially hard, so after I was half-looped, we decided not to finish and instead wreak havoc around town. The boys had bought a huge box of illegal fireworks full of bottle rockets, heavy duty black cats and artillery shells.
We would light the artillery shells and then throw them out the sides of the bronco. On Dyke street (yes, there is a street in Chambers called Dyke street. However, no visitors would every know this because people had stolen the sign every time a new one would be put up. Hello? Dyke street? Who wouldn't steal that sign?) is where our little accident happened. Brett lit a black cat and threw it out the side of the bronco. We waited a second for the "pop." But the "pop" was more like a "HOLY SHIT BOOOOOMMMM!" right in our ears.
Instead of throwing the black cat off to the side, Brett thew it behind him and right into the box of illegal fireworks. That's when all hell broke loose. I'm talking World War III took place right in Chambers, USA. One tiny little black cat set off every single artillery shell, bottle rocket and chain of black cats in our entire box.
You know in war movies when gunshells are shot into the dirt and dirt goes flying up into the air 10 feet? Yeah, that's what was happening to our box. Cardboard was flying everywhere. Bottle rockets were zooming past our heads, into our shirts, through our hair and several made their way into our skin.
Tim was smart and parked the bronco right in the middle of Main Street and Dyke and we bailed like 76 clowns out of a Volkswagon. However, I don't deal well with scary situations, so I started giggling like a 12-year-old school girl. Mid-giggles, my leg got stuck on seatbelt, so while everyone else was 100 feet away from the bronco, I was dangling out the side trying to get out. Then I started laughing super duper hard. Then, between the laughter and being scared shitless that the bronco was going to blow, I peed my freaking pants. (I never told the guys I peed my pants though. They wondered why my jeans were soaked in between my crotch. I said I spilled my soda in the chaos. Little did they know I wasn't drinking a soda.).
Side note: Actually, maybe it's just Tim who makes me pee my pants. When Tim, Maggie and I went to a haunted house as 8th graders, a monster from the house stole Mags. I was so scared and nervous that the monster was a real killer and had taken Maggie into a room to kill her that I started laughing uncontrollably. Then I peed my pants. It's a defense mechanism. I'm pretty sure Tim knew I pissed myself then, so he should have assumed that's what happened this time around. I'd be awful in a scary movie scenario. I'd just pee everywhere.
Finally, I got my leg un-caught and I ran away with the boys as the bronco was lighting up the middle of Main Street. My sixth grade teacher and our school lunch lady got quite the show, as they were sitting on their front porch while the whole fiasco went down. Oh small towns...instead of calling the fire department, they sat and watched us as we nearly went up in flames. I can still hear their laughter ringing in my head.
The firecrackers stopped eventually and luckily we were all okay. I still have a burn mark on my stomach from a damn bottle rocket that went through my shirt. And I still have the embarrassment of pissing my pants.
Moral of the story: Parents, let your teenagers play with illegal fireworks. Makes for great stories and awesome battle scars.
Anyway, I thought this would be a great time for an old school story. It was the Fourth of July back in 2004 and Chambers was having its usual Fourth of July festivities back when Chambers had awesome Fourth of July festivities. Every year, Chambers held a Road Rally, where a group of people would set forth in a car on a kick-ass scaventer hunt. Usually the Road Rally takes place around the country roads of Chambers. However, in 2004, the makers of the Road Rally decided to take it "off road." So, me and my friends, Bryan, Tim, Brett and Brady went on the Off-Road Rally in Tim's bronco. He had taken off the top of his bronco, so we were flying around the country roads with the wind whipping through our hair. Well, mostly my hair. I think they all had short hair. Well, except for Tim. He always kept his kind of shaggy.
Anywho, I should have known the day was going to spell disaster when we were on a section line and the bronco took a bull hole and flew us up out of our seats at least three feet. I banged the shit out of my head on bronco's roll bars and nearly knocked myself out. The Road Ralley was especially hard, so after I was half-looped, we decided not to finish and instead wreak havoc around town. The boys had bought a huge box of illegal fireworks full of bottle rockets, heavy duty black cats and artillery shells.
We would light the artillery shells and then throw them out the sides of the bronco. On Dyke street (yes, there is a street in Chambers called Dyke street. However, no visitors would every know this because people had stolen the sign every time a new one would be put up. Hello? Dyke street? Who wouldn't steal that sign?) is where our little accident happened. Brett lit a black cat and threw it out the side of the bronco. We waited a second for the "pop." But the "pop" was more like a "HOLY SHIT BOOOOOMMMM!" right in our ears.
Instead of throwing the black cat off to the side, Brett thew it behind him and right into the box of illegal fireworks. That's when all hell broke loose. I'm talking World War III took place right in Chambers, USA. One tiny little black cat set off every single artillery shell, bottle rocket and chain of black cats in our entire box.
You know in war movies when gunshells are shot into the dirt and dirt goes flying up into the air 10 feet? Yeah, that's what was happening to our box. Cardboard was flying everywhere. Bottle rockets were zooming past our heads, into our shirts, through our hair and several made their way into our skin.
Tim was smart and parked the bronco right in the middle of Main Street and Dyke and we bailed like 76 clowns out of a Volkswagon. However, I don't deal well with scary situations, so I started giggling like a 12-year-old school girl. Mid-giggles, my leg got stuck on seatbelt, so while everyone else was 100 feet away from the bronco, I was dangling out the side trying to get out. Then I started laughing super duper hard. Then, between the laughter and being scared shitless that the bronco was going to blow, I peed my freaking pants. (I never told the guys I peed my pants though. They wondered why my jeans were soaked in between my crotch. I said I spilled my soda in the chaos. Little did they know I wasn't drinking a soda.).
Side note: Actually, maybe it's just Tim who makes me pee my pants. When Tim, Maggie and I went to a haunted house as 8th graders, a monster from the house stole Mags. I was so scared and nervous that the monster was a real killer and had taken Maggie into a room to kill her that I started laughing uncontrollably. Then I peed my pants. It's a defense mechanism. I'm pretty sure Tim knew I pissed myself then, so he should have assumed that's what happened this time around. I'd be awful in a scary movie scenario. I'd just pee everywhere.
Finally, I got my leg un-caught and I ran away with the boys as the bronco was lighting up the middle of Main Street. My sixth grade teacher and our school lunch lady got quite the show, as they were sitting on their front porch while the whole fiasco went down. Oh small towns...instead of calling the fire department, they sat and watched us as we nearly went up in flames. I can still hear their laughter ringing in my head.
The firecrackers stopped eventually and luckily we were all okay. I still have a burn mark on my stomach from a damn bottle rocket that went through my shirt. And I still have the embarrassment of pissing my pants.
Moral of the story: Parents, let your teenagers play with illegal fireworks. Makes for great stories and awesome battle scars.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Good Grief
I've realized that this is the second post I will have posted today and I'm sorry about that. But when I get on my soap box, it's very hard for me to slip right off...
Tonight I'd like to bring up a very grave issue... DEATH. (I'm sorry, I really like puns of any sort. Bare with me, there will probably be even more.) Death definitely sucks. It's, like, the worst thing ever really because, well, once you're gone, you're gone. Unless you believe in reincarnation, which I don't. I do believe in angels, but that's a whole other topic. Anyway, I am no stranger to death. Death has kind of lingered around my family since my brother died in the '80s. All four of my grandparents had died by the time I was 21, two friends had passed away during college and several of my mom and dad's friends and family had passed on. Not to mention the countless souls of friends-of-friends who were lost over the years. Death is sad. Death is traumatic. Death is awful. But, unfortunately, it's inevitable. It never gets any better.
However, here's where my soap box really begins: What happend to good, old-fashioned grieving? What happened to slipping on something black, going to a funeral, having a good cry, sharing a good laugh about the person and then remembering that person in YOUR HEART forever. Maybe commemorate them with a tattoo or heck, maybe buy them a beautiful flower pot for the base of their gravestone. Maybe visit their family often or, if you live far away, write their family a beautiful letter about the person you miss each and every day. Or, do what I do, and think of those people often and say a little prayer for the friends and families of those people. Or, write a blog containing wonderful stories about that person, but please don't update me every 10 second how sad you are. Or write intimate details about the deceased on his or her Facebook wall. Not to be cruel, but that person will never be able to delete the things that go on his or her wall, so don't embarrass them in the afterlife!
Unfortunatly, social media has ruined the act of grieving. Now, I feel that grieving is such a public display that it loses all of its value. It seems as if people are trying to "show off" who knew the deceased best by sharing every intimate detail about that person on Facebook or on Twitter. I get it, you miss the crap out of that person, but why can't you shoot them a text message? Or, better yet, TALK to them. (Again, I believe in angels and I feel like angels can hear me when I feel like talking to them...but maybe I'm a minority.) Why must grieving be such a display? Today, a young soul from a neighboring town was lost today. All over my Facebook feed, young people were sharing their memories and "RIPs."
One person, who had bolted out of school today crying like they had lost her sibling (or so I heard), got on Facebook this afternoon to write on the deceased's wall. Then they changed their picture to one of them and the deceased. Then they wrote a status about how much they will love and miss the deceased. Not to discredit the grieving of the crying person, but I clicked on wall-to-wall interaction between the grieving and the deceased and there were only THREE Facebook interactions starting about eight months ago between the two. I'm sure it's very, very sad for the grieving person, but how well do you know someone in eight months? And, if you did form a wonderful friendship, wouldn't you write on each other's walls more than just three times in eight months - especially if you're going to display your great distress over their death all over Facebook?
I know people grieve in different ways. But people don't have to be so public about their sadness. Show some respect for the deceased. I know you will always love them, so act in such a way as to make yourself a better person for them.
And please, if I die tomorrow and I hear that you've read this blog and still write lots of crap about me on my Facebook wall, I will haunt you like Casper, okay? Do something nice and get my portrait tattooed on your forearm. I'd like that better. ha!
Tonight I'd like to bring up a very grave issue... DEATH. (I'm sorry, I really like puns of any sort. Bare with me, there will probably be even more.) Death definitely sucks. It's, like, the worst thing ever really because, well, once you're gone, you're gone. Unless you believe in reincarnation, which I don't. I do believe in angels, but that's a whole other topic. Anyway, I am no stranger to death. Death has kind of lingered around my family since my brother died in the '80s. All four of my grandparents had died by the time I was 21, two friends had passed away during college and several of my mom and dad's friends and family had passed on. Not to mention the countless souls of friends-of-friends who were lost over the years. Death is sad. Death is traumatic. Death is awful. But, unfortunately, it's inevitable. It never gets any better.
However, here's where my soap box really begins: What happend to good, old-fashioned grieving? What happened to slipping on something black, going to a funeral, having a good cry, sharing a good laugh about the person and then remembering that person in YOUR HEART forever. Maybe commemorate them with a tattoo or heck, maybe buy them a beautiful flower pot for the base of their gravestone. Maybe visit their family often or, if you live far away, write their family a beautiful letter about the person you miss each and every day. Or, do what I do, and think of those people often and say a little prayer for the friends and families of those people. Or, write a blog containing wonderful stories about that person, but please don't update me every 10 second how sad you are. Or write intimate details about the deceased on his or her Facebook wall. Not to be cruel, but that person will never be able to delete the things that go on his or her wall, so don't embarrass them in the afterlife!
Unfortunatly, social media has ruined the act of grieving. Now, I feel that grieving is such a public display that it loses all of its value. It seems as if people are trying to "show off" who knew the deceased best by sharing every intimate detail about that person on Facebook or on Twitter. I get it, you miss the crap out of that person, but why can't you shoot them a text message? Or, better yet, TALK to them. (Again, I believe in angels and I feel like angels can hear me when I feel like talking to them...but maybe I'm a minority.) Why must grieving be such a display? Today, a young soul from a neighboring town was lost today. All over my Facebook feed, young people were sharing their memories and "RIPs."
One person, who had bolted out of school today crying like they had lost her sibling (or so I heard), got on Facebook this afternoon to write on the deceased's wall. Then they changed their picture to one of them and the deceased. Then they wrote a status about how much they will love and miss the deceased. Not to discredit the grieving of the crying person, but I clicked on wall-to-wall interaction between the grieving and the deceased and there were only THREE Facebook interactions starting about eight months ago between the two. I'm sure it's very, very sad for the grieving person, but how well do you know someone in eight months? And, if you did form a wonderful friendship, wouldn't you write on each other's walls more than just three times in eight months - especially if you're going to display your great distress over their death all over Facebook?
I know people grieve in different ways. But people don't have to be so public about their sadness. Show some respect for the deceased. I know you will always love them, so act in such a way as to make yourself a better person for them.
And please, if I die tomorrow and I hear that you've read this blog and still write lots of crap about me on my Facebook wall, I will haunt you like Casper, okay? Do something nice and get my portrait tattooed on your forearm. I'd like that better. ha!
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Treat Your Body Like A Temple
First of all, I just want to thank everyone for their support recently. I have gotten so many amazing messages through Facebook and each of your messages have meant so much to me. They are exactly what I need to get started!
All of this healthy talk made me realize that being healthy doesn't just include exercise and good eating, it includes the other things you feed your body with - love, emotions, alcohol, sadness, etc. I love A-HAH moments and I just had one yesterday.
The night before my college graduation, Heather (one of my best friends - I love you to death, girl!), cornered me in her bedroom and basically asked me if I was happy with myself. To be honest, I felt like I was being beaten down.
See, Heather had graduated in December of 2009 and left to pursue a job opportunity in California. However, her fiance still lived in Lincoln and was graduating on the same day as me, so she was back to see him walk down the graduation aisle. So, Heather hadn't seen and had barely talked to me since December. She basically just followed me through Twitter, Facebook and this blog.
She wondered what the BEEP was going on in my life. Facebook and Twitter had been telling her how drunk I was getting and how many boys I was kissing and this blog was telling her the stories in more detail. She was worried about me. However, I took it more of an accusation. "Come on, I've always been a fun-loving person! I just haven't had a true college experience with my job!" Yeah, complete bullshit if you ask me. For the past couple of months, I've honestly been uneasy about her accusations. I was happy she was being honest with me because I really respect a friend who is honest, but she also hit a nerve. A very deep nerve. And finally, yesterday, I realized what it was. She was right.
I had been treating my body like trash. I had been filling it with booze from Thursdays until Sundays and then some more during the week. I had more hangovers between January-May than I had had in my entire life. I was letting people into my life - bad people - who were causing me to become an emotional wreck. I let men, men with girlfriends and wives and ISSUES, use me emotionally and make me feel terrible about myself. Though, I thought at the time they were making me feel good about myself. Heather saw me, I mean really saw me, from a half-county away and knew something wasn't right.
So I'm hear to tell my faithful readers (and Heather - though I'll probably just tell her in person. :) ) that I've made great strides in other areas of my life. I'm only allowing myself TWO drinks per week and no bad boys. Only good ones. Or none at all. I'm reading more and going out less. I'm being ME again. I don't need to change for anyone.
Thanks, Miss Heather, for seeing me. Love you!
All of this healthy talk made me realize that being healthy doesn't just include exercise and good eating, it includes the other things you feed your body with - love, emotions, alcohol, sadness, etc. I love A-HAH moments and I just had one yesterday.
The night before my college graduation, Heather (one of my best friends - I love you to death, girl!), cornered me in her bedroom and basically asked me if I was happy with myself. To be honest, I felt like I was being beaten down.
See, Heather had graduated in December of 2009 and left to pursue a job opportunity in California. However, her fiance still lived in Lincoln and was graduating on the same day as me, so she was back to see him walk down the graduation aisle. So, Heather hadn't seen and had barely talked to me since December. She basically just followed me through Twitter, Facebook and this blog.
She wondered what the BEEP was going on in my life. Facebook and Twitter had been telling her how drunk I was getting and how many boys I was kissing and this blog was telling her the stories in more detail. She was worried about me. However, I took it more of an accusation. "Come on, I've always been a fun-loving person! I just haven't had a true college experience with my job!" Yeah, complete bullshit if you ask me. For the past couple of months, I've honestly been uneasy about her accusations. I was happy she was being honest with me because I really respect a friend who is honest, but she also hit a nerve. A very deep nerve. And finally, yesterday, I realized what it was. She was right.
I had been treating my body like trash. I had been filling it with booze from Thursdays until Sundays and then some more during the week. I had more hangovers between January-May than I had had in my entire life. I was letting people into my life - bad people - who were causing me to become an emotional wreck. I let men, men with girlfriends and wives and ISSUES, use me emotionally and make me feel terrible about myself. Though, I thought at the time they were making me feel good about myself. Heather saw me, I mean really saw me, from a half-county away and knew something wasn't right.
So I'm hear to tell my faithful readers (and Heather - though I'll probably just tell her in person. :) ) that I've made great strides in other areas of my life. I'm only allowing myself TWO drinks per week and no bad boys. Only good ones. Or none at all. I'm reading more and going out less. I'm being ME again. I don't need to change for anyone.
Thanks, Miss Heather, for seeing me. Love you!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Change
Almost a year ago, Jacy and I started this blog in order to lose some weight on the QuickTrim diet by the Kardashians. Just short of starving ourselves, we stopped the diet after a few days. We both lost the damn receipts, so so much for getting our money back. Ironically, I ended up packing on even more weight over the past year and finally decided for a self-realization. I've recently gotten into "Losing It," the Jillian Michaels weight loss show, and have realized I'm on a fast track to being one of those people. I do the same things they do. I eat shit I shouldn't be eating and I LIE about it. Back in Nebraska, I was literally sneaking fast food BEFORE I went home to eat supper. I would never go into fast food restaurants (God forbid) because I didn't want anyone to see that I was one of those fat people who ate fast food. So, instead, I went through the drive-thru and then would find a remote parking lot or alley way and eat my grease in peace. I'd make sure to hide the evidence as soon as I was done eating and then lie to everyone about what I ate. Now I've come to find that I've only been lying to myself.
I've always been a big girl, but I'm sick of that excuse. There's no reason to be a big girl anymore. That was someone else. I was at my skinniest my senior year of high school. I might have been skinny because I was suffering some weird depression issues (yeah, you should read my journal from that year...yikes), but that's besides the point. Even at my "skinniest," I was never considered "skinny."
So, why not make a drastic change in my life and be skinny for once? I just want to know how it feels to not wear XL shirts all the time. I want to know what it's like to go into a store and have EVERYTHING look good on me. I want to be more than just a "pretty face."
I officially started this journey when I moved to Dallas at the end of June. Since I joined a gym at the beginning of July, I've already lost 5.9 pounds. (In 9 days). My body knows it needs to shed the weight and is encouraging me. Now I just need to be persistent.
No more sneaking fast food. No more lazy lifestyle. I hope that the next time many of you will be seeing me I will be a completely different person.
Please post any hints/tips here! I would love to hear feedback!!
I've always been a big girl, but I'm sick of that excuse. There's no reason to be a big girl anymore. That was someone else. I was at my skinniest my senior year of high school. I might have been skinny because I was suffering some weird depression issues (yeah, you should read my journal from that year...yikes), but that's besides the point. Even at my "skinniest," I was never considered "skinny."
So, why not make a drastic change in my life and be skinny for once? I just want to know how it feels to not wear XL shirts all the time. I want to know what it's like to go into a store and have EVERYTHING look good on me. I want to be more than just a "pretty face."
I officially started this journey when I moved to Dallas at the end of June. Since I joined a gym at the beginning of July, I've already lost 5.9 pounds. (In 9 days). My body knows it needs to shed the weight and is encouraging me. Now I just need to be persistent.
No more sneaking fast food. No more lazy lifestyle. I hope that the next time many of you will be seeing me I will be a completely different person.
Please post any hints/tips here! I would love to hear feedback!!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Making Friends in Low Places (Texas, mainly)
Let me start off by saying that I by no means want my next statements to come off as snotty. I don’t believe I’m entitled to anything, let alone friends. However, I have never had any problems making friends or being “popular.” Again, using the word popular isn’t probably the most effective word, but let’s just say that I’ve always had really beautiful, talented and nice friends. Therefore, I believe that they must be popular. I’m not beautiful, but I feel like I attract beautiful people, soooo somehow that means I’m okay at friend making. And now I’m going to stop digging myself a hole….
That being said, I thought friend-making would come a lot easier for me in
I was wearing a “Nebraska Engineering” shirt the other day at the gym and a really good-looking guy came up and asked me if I was into engineering. I looked at him like he was crazy and said…”uhhh…no…” Then he’s like, “Well, why do you have an engineering shirt on?” Then it hit me. DUHHH. So we had a nice little conversation about
Some of my friends back home have been trying to tell me to go out and make friends. That’s so much easier said that done. What am I supposed to do? Go to a bar and sit around asking people if they’d like to be friends with me? Look really desperate for a friend and someone will approach me?
Seriously though, any advice would be appreciated. I’m not lonely yet, but I may be on the brink.
Friday, July 9, 2010
God Blessed Texas
Jacy and I are officially no longer living together. A week ago, we parted ways as I took a year-long position at the Big 12 Conference office in Dallas. Tears were shed and I'm pretty sure I'm a little depressed. (If you call never being hungry and going to bed at 9 p.m. every night depressive.) I really don't think I'm depressed, I think I'm just overwhelmed. I just made a huge change in my life and sleeping is how I cope with everything. I do miss Jacy terrible, but I'll get to see her in a few weeks and then she's coming to visit me over Labor Day.
I really like living here so far though. Texas is a really, really cool state! There is so much to do. Tonight, my coworkers and I are going to a place that serves dinner WHILE watching a movie. And then on Sunday we're going to a Rangers game. I couldn't have done either of those things in Lincoln.
Texas has other things to offer, too. For example, women with big-ass hair. I thought teasing was a fashion trend in the late-80s or early-90s, but these women brought it into the here and now. I'm not sure whether to be impressed by their devotion to their hair (because they have to get up like two extra hours every day) or just plain scared!!
The other major thing Texas has to offer is CUTE BOYS. Oh my goodness, everywhere I go, there are cute boys everywhere! The other day in Walmart, I about drove my shopping cart into two of them and started blushing hardcore. These boys were ripped. They looked like straight-off-the-farm, stocky, hot boys! Then today, when I was driving to work, I nearly rear-ended a car staring at the beautiful hot chocolate running beside my car. Holy smokes!! Not to mention, I just joined 24 Hour Fitness and it's a training place for some of the Dallas Cowboys. I'm going to be a size two when I leave here because I'll just want to stay in the gym all the time.
Okay, that's all the updating I can do for today. Have a blessed day!!
I really like living here so far though. Texas is a really, really cool state! There is so much to do. Tonight, my coworkers and I are going to a place that serves dinner WHILE watching a movie. And then on Sunday we're going to a Rangers game. I couldn't have done either of those things in Lincoln.
Texas has other things to offer, too. For example, women with big-ass hair. I thought teasing was a fashion trend in the late-80s or early-90s, but these women brought it into the here and now. I'm not sure whether to be impressed by their devotion to their hair (because they have to get up like two extra hours every day) or just plain scared!!
The other major thing Texas has to offer is CUTE BOYS. Oh my goodness, everywhere I go, there are cute boys everywhere! The other day in Walmart, I about drove my shopping cart into two of them and started blushing hardcore. These boys were ripped. They looked like straight-off-the-farm, stocky, hot boys! Then today, when I was driving to work, I nearly rear-ended a car staring at the beautiful hot chocolate running beside my car. Holy smokes!! Not to mention, I just joined 24 Hour Fitness and it's a training place for some of the Dallas Cowboys. I'm going to be a size two when I leave here because I'll just want to stay in the gym all the time.
Okay, that's all the updating I can do for today. Have a blessed day!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
