It's time to begin, isn't it?

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Happy new year, dear readers.  I am writing to you from my brand new MacBook Air my husband gifted to me for Christmas (lucky gal, I know :-))!  After spending the last 7 days in 4 different homes and 4 different beds, I am grateful for a quiet moment to collect my thoughts on the new year ahead of me.

2012 will always have a special place in my heart because it is the year I was lucky enough to marry my best friend.  I know that sounds utterly cliche, but at the end of the day, despite the struggles, the fallouts, the tears, and even all the joyous moments that occurred this past year, I will first think about my wedding and the happiness I felt on that day when I reflect on 2012.

Maybe you noticed, and maybe you did not, but I took a little blogger break for most of December.  It was a tough month for me, personally.  I believe a lot in timing, and I think God knew that I needed the break to really be grateful this Christmas - so that's what I focused my time and energy on.  And I am....truly grateful.

I am grateful for this man who I get to wake up next to everyday...and incidentally enough, I love more each day I wake up with him.

On Christmas Morning :)

I am grateful for my parents who want great things for me and for my mom who will drop everything and come take care of me when I'm sick.

Holding their gift from my sister and me on Christmas morning.

I am grateful for hard work and budgeting that allowed me to buy my first new car EVER a few days after Christmas!  (and most definitely happy that my husband can fit comfortably in this car!)

Getting ready to drive off the lot with my 2013 Mazda CX-5!

I am blessed beyond belief to have this little guy in my life this past year, and to celebrate as he turned 1-year-old on December 28!

Mason loves his Uncle Keith...he's like a giant pillow!

Even though we had planned to come home from Atlanta on Monday night, we ended up staying for New Years Eve and I am so happy I got to spend a quiet evening with my sister and our husbands reading on my Kindle and watching Jenny McCarthy act like and idiot on New Year's Rockin' Eve.  When the ball dropped, my husband gave me a kiss and we went to bed.  It was just as it should be.

I have had many moments in the last few weeks of reflection on my life and how blessed I am.  No matter what I allow myself to think in my moments of weakness and my moments of selfishness, I always come back to that.  I am ready for 2013.  I am ready to drive my new car and blog on this computer.  I am ready to put away my Christmas decorations and watch the snow fall.  I am ready to try out recipes from my new cookbooks and FaceTime with my nephews.  I am ready for new episodes of all my shows and for NFL Playoffs!  I am ready to celebrate my last birthday in my 20's (in March) and long for summer.  Mostly I am ready for a new year and a fresh start, and a chance to be a better person, better wife, better daughter, better sister and better co-worker than last year.

It's time to begin, isn't it?

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The ugly side of horse racing

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One of the best things about living in Kentucky is, by far, getting to take part in the sport of horse racing.  No one does big hats, bourbon and betting better than folks in Kentucky.  It's a privilege to be among this sport, but it can also be devastating at the same time. 

This past weekend we spent a beautiful day at Keeneland tailgating by the fire pit and drinking bourbon and mimosas.  Since my in-laws were in town, we wanted to treat them to a day at the fall meet since it is a staple around Lexington and one of our favorite things to do this time of year. 

The day started off wonderfully...a little cold, but nothing a nice fire can't help with!  We grilled tri-tip steaks and ate and enjoyed the company of those we so rarely see.  After a couple hours of cornhole and tailgating, and watching the first 3 races from outside the track, husband and I decided to go in and place our bets for the next few races. 

While the rest of our gang stayed outside we made our bets for the 4th race based largely on the names of the horses and my intrinsic need to bet at least one long shot in each race.  We settled in to watch the races in the Mezzanine bar...me with my wine and husband with his bourbon (which he snuck in via his boot).  The boy picked the winner in the first race and tripled his first bet...a great start to the day!  I was disappointed to see that my horse, along with one other, did not even finish the race.

We thought nothing more of it and enjoyed the rest of our afternoon among the winners and losers at the race track.  Just before our last race, we finally met up with my brother who had decided to join in the fun of losing money.  He asked us if we had heard what happened after we left our tailgate....we had not heard a thing.

He began to tell us the story, in way to much detail, about an injured horse that had a significant affect on the members of our families.  We left after the next race and rejoined our parents at the tailgates, asking what had happened in their own words. 

I stood with my dad as he told me about the race they had watched right after we left the tailgate.  You see, we always pick a particular spot outside the track where you can stand and watch the horses go by right in front of you.  It's perfect because you can enjoy the beauty of the track without ever having to go inside.  Each time a race would get ready to run, everyone would move toward the fence to watch and cheer. 

But this time was different.  During the 4th race, 2 jockeys had been thrown from their horses....directly in front of my dad and my husband's parents.  One of the horse kept running, sans jockey, but the other horse was hurt....very, very hurt.

The medic van which follows right behind each race was out and tending to the jockeys instantly.  But the horse medics were nowhere to be found.  Our families stood in horror as they watched the remaining horse, confused, scared, and trying to stand on a leg that was no longer attached by any bone...only skin.  Time must have stood still while onlookers held their breaths in sick horror waiting for any sign of a medic for what was once a beautiful thoroughbred.  Without even thinking, my Dad....my hero....jumped over the fence and onto the track to stop the horse from trying to move and to comfort him.  For minutes he stroked him and talked to him until, after what seemed like and eternity, the horse medic finally arrived.  They immediately gave the horse a shot and moved him into the van, without a word to my Dad who was there when they weren't.

I listened as my Dad told this story while I watched my husband comfort his mom as she cried and recounted it for him.  I felt sick.  Literally...sick.  Not only hearing the story of what they were going through while we were inside enjoying ourselves, but watching my dad (who in my 28 years, I have never seen shed a tear) break down and cry telling me about this horse that he comforted in what we have no doubt were some of the last moments of his life.  His injuries, without a doubt, would call for him to be euthanized. 

Even as I sit here and type, I am holding back tears thinking of the recounting of what happened and feeling both relief that I wasn't there to witness for myself and sickness over wishing I was so I could have done something, even just comfort my mother-in-law or my Dad as the events transpired.  All who witnessed it said they will never, ever forget that moment and what they saw. 

I could not be more proud of my dad for what he did for that horse.  I have no idea where the medics for the horse were or why they took so long, but my dad did not hesitate...he jumped over that fence and offered what little comfort he could provide for a beautiful animal which we so take for granted every time we watch them race. 

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I left the track feeling very grateful for my dad and for my sweet animals at home who provide us with not only companionship, but also a huge dose of joy on a daily basis. 

 

Water Weekend

We had quite an eventful weekend around this household.  Saturday started with rain.  Lots of it.  We had planned to take our puppies to the Woodland Park Dog Paddle first thing, but it was cold and rainy and I opted for a little additional sleep instead. A couple hours later and several episodes of Properties Brothers, husband and I finally got off our asses and went for a run.  The temperature was perfect! 

I had been excited for weeks about taking our dogs to the dog paddle and wearing them out.  Sawyer loves the water and Jax had never been so I was anxious to see how he would react.  For those of you who don't know what the dog paddle is, it is something they do right before they drain the pool for the season.  They throw hundreds of tennis balls in and let all the dogs come and swim and play until their tongues fall off.  Or until their owners get tired of getting the wet "shake off" from strange dogs. 

As soon as we walked in the gate and let the monsters off their leashes, Sawyer immediately ran toward the pool where all the shiny tennis balls were.  Jax immediately ran as far away from us as he could and towards the nearest dog who would let him sniff its ass.  That's pretty much where he stayed for the hour we were there, with the exception of when we threw him into the pool.  That went over like a fart in church.  Jax gave us a scathing look, climbed out, and wouldn't come near us the rest of the afternoon.  Sawyer, on the other hand, swam for an hour straight, sometimes with 2 tennis balls in his mouth.

As you can see, a good time was had by all...plus, there was the added bonus of smelling like "wet dog" for the next 2 hours as well! 

After an eventful Saturday at the dog park and hanging with old friends in Louisville on Saturday night, I was anxious to get home on Sunday morning at R-E-L-A-X.  I had big plans for grocery shopping, a new dinner recipe, and to try out my new stand mixer from Williams Sonoma...all followed by a serious nap.  Well, the universe laughed at my plans, and after getting home at about 11:00am on Sunday and starting my chores, this happened:

That, friends, is what I like to call "a problem with the garbage disposal".  I cleaned out the fridge and sent some old food down the grinder after I had started the dishwasher.  No big deal, right?  I mean, it's not like I put egg shells or chicken bones down there.  Of course my immediate reaction was to continue to grind until it went down.  Strangely, that did not work.  I let it be for a couple hours while I mopped the floor and cleaned all the dog towels we had taken to the dog paddle on Saturday, then I consulted the ol' Google search engine for the answer to my problem.  Clearly, it was drano and a plunger.  Off to the store I went. 

I returned armed with groceries for the week and a renewed confidence in my plumbing skills.  On the way home I had even told my brother, "I'm on my way home to make the garbage disposal my bitch!"  Yeah...those words happened. 

After drano-maxx, and a plunger, this was the end result:

Time to consult google again.  Guess what I learned...pasta is bad for garbage disposals.  Who knew?  I thought back to the week-old fettuccine I shoved down there mere minutes before this nonsense occurred.  There was only one thing to do, and it involved a wrench.

I finally called husband and let him know what was going on in our kitchen.  "I think I need to open up this P-shaped pipe" I said.  He told me to get a big bucket and put it under the pipe because as soon as I removed it, water would come out.  We agreed that the 5 gallon bucket in the garage would be fine.  We were wrong.  I had the pipe unscrewed for exactly half a second (long enough to see that it was full of pasta) before I was surrounded by water.  Dirty, congealed, garbage disposal, old food, nasty, water.  I literally blinked and the water from the sinks were on the floor...the bucket was completely full and so was the kitchen.  {Insert panic here}.  I got my wits about me long enough to remember the stack of freshly cleaned towels in the laundry room and I went to town cleaning up the smelly mess.  The good news was that the sinks were empty and the pipes were now clean.

I think we can all agree on this one that even though I put the pasta down the disposal, this is clearly my husband's fault.  You with me?

An hour after this water chaos ensued, I mopped the floors for the second time that day and washed the towels for the second time as well.  By 4:00pm I was exhausted, but I'll be damned if I wasn't going to break in my stand mixer!  I made Apple Cinnamon muffins for us for the week, and they were delicious.  So delicious in fact that 2 of them went missing after leaving them alone to cool with the dogs.

So, a couple things we learned this weekend...Jax hates water, I hate garbage disposal water, I'm a muffin-baking goddess, and a master plumber. 

Wedding Week - Rehearsal Dinner

After our bridesmaid luncheon, I was absolutely exhausted and desperate for a nap.  I was a little on edge because that morning, before we went to the luncheon, we had all kinds of wedding venue drama.  The rental company we were using showed up Friday morning to set up our tent (which they had previously cleared with the venue coordinator) only to find that there was another wedding being set up for that evening!  What???  Long story short, the venue coordinator called my mom while we were getting ready to say that we couldn't set up our tent OR have our rehearsal there that evening due to the wedding taking place there.  Clearly this was a problem.  For starters, it takes at least 4 hours to set it up, and if they had to do it Friday, it would only leave about 2 or 3 hours to get the tables and decor in place....not okay.  Second, we still had to time out the music for the ceremony, which we planned to do at the rehearsal. 

So, needless to say, I was freaking out at all the things that seemed to be falling apart, combined with the fact that the forecast was putting Saturday somewhere around 105 degrees.  I tried to put it out of my mind during the luncheon, but as soon as it was over, I got a monstrous headache and could barely keep my eyes open on the ride home.  I thought a nap would help, but with all the chaos happening at the house, sleep was hard to find.  By the time I gave up on sleep, it was time to get ready for the evening.  Luckily, my mother was able to talk some sense into the woman at our venue and pretty much let her know that whether she liked it or not, we would be there at 6:15 to rehearse our ceremony.  So, it worked out in the end...

Per our usual, my family was running ridiculously late to the rehearsal, and it was all we could do to get everyone out the door.  At 6:15 on the dot, we were leaving the house to head to the rehearsal, the boy and me in my mom's car, with my mom, dad, and two sisters in the car behind us.  Halfway to the venue, I found out that the boy had forgotten the card that went to his parents' thank you gift.  Shortly after that, we had a Home Alone realization after getting a call from my brother wondering where everyone went.  As one of the groomsmen, it was his presence was kind of crucial at the rehearsal, yet somehow we managed to forget him at the house.  It was all I could do not to jolt upright in the passenger seat and scream, "Kevin!!!"

It was around this time that I started crying in the car, and declared to my fiance that, "This wedding is a disaster!"  Clearly at T-24 hours to go, I developed a flare for the dramatic.

At 6:30 we had arrived at the venue, followed shortly thereafter by my brother at 6:35 who upon stepping out of the car, immediately sweat through his shirt.  It was over 100 degrees and we were all in hell.....literally.  Our pastor lined us all up and didn't waste any time getting started. 

Currently sweating from every part of my body...trying to hold my arms away from my body to keep cool.

Still sweating...all of us...profusely...

Boys

Face off...probably still thinking here, "You forgot the damn card!!"

Yes, that would be my sister, the maid of honor, with her maxi dress tucked into the sides of her underwear....

At the end of our rehearsal, the officiant, asked us if we had any questions, which were preemptively denied when he followed that up with "It's too hot for questions!"  With that, we were off to the rehearsal dinner.

What better way to get through a scorching hot evening than with ice cold margaritas and Mexican food?  With so many of our close relatives coming in from many states away, we had nearly 75 people at our rehearsal.  The boy and I wanted to keep it fun and casual and decided to have it catered in by Qdoba.  We rented a double barrel margarita machine and bought cases of Mexican beer, which was just what everyone needed on such a warm evening. 

Our rehearsal

Handing out our groomsmen gifts!  We go them each a shirt and tie to go with their suits and custom grill tools with their names burned into the handles.

Handing out more gifts!

My grandparents on my Mom's side

My Dad and his parents - my grandparents

The extra plates doubled as fans!

My aunt Teri and Uncle Rick!

Aunt Sherri and Uncle Ara

My brother in law multitasking - baby in one hand, margarita in the other hand!

Aunts and Uncles on my mom's side

Cousins!

Welcoming everyone and thanking them for coming

Trying to maintain composure

Getting a little emotional

"It's not tears, it's just my eyes sweating!"

Thanking our parents

Thanking my mom for all her help with everything

 Even though it was probably the hottest day I could ever remember, the rehearsal turned out wonderful and it was really nice getting to thank our parents for all their hard work, especially my mom who planned every detail with me throughout the last year.  We pulled them aside at the rehearsal to give them thank you gifts personally - a new record player for my dad with a copy of the album with our father/daughter song on vinyl.  For my mom I got together a "splurge box" and put in all kinds of little things that she didn't get to treat herself to while they were paying for the wedding over the last year - A bottle of one of my favorite wines, a new dress, a bubble necklace, a bottle of her perfume she'd been out of for months, a CD, and some goodies from Lush for her to feel luxurious.  It was a wonderful evening.  For the boy's parents, I wanted to get them something with my new last name on it - their last name.  We opted for an entry way sign on it with their names and wedding date on it, ordered special from Etsy.  We also got them a gift card for a date night once they got back to GA. 

After saying goodbye to everyone, the boy and I headed back to my parents house where I organized my honeymoon suitcase for Sunday and got ready for bed.  The boy rounded up a number of his groomsmen and my brothers (who are the absolute WORST influence) and hit up the bars downtown despite my warnings about what he would - and more importantly would not - be getting on our honeymoon if he showed up hungover at our wedding.....but more on that later!

Whining & Dining

Last weekend the boy and I did something a little out of character for us....we went out to dinner...twice...in one weekend.  That pretty much never happens.  Over the last year, we have been very money conscious.  Who hasn't?  While I have never been a "fast food" person, I can't say the same for the boy.  He loves himself a little drive thru breakfast sandwich and a sweet tea, and he works right next to a Qdoba.  But we really sat down last year, looked at our finances, and made a conscious decision not to spend money eating dinner/lunch out unless it was a planned date night.  Lately however, we have been a little more relaxed and have allowed ourselves a few extra "date nights" in the last couple months.  We worked really hard last year to save money and cut back where we could, and taking time to enjoy that is a wonderful treat for us. 

All that said, I have been so disappointed with some of our restaurant experiences lately.  I thought about this all week and it just made me more and more annoyed every time I think about it. 

Exhibit A:  Friday dinner at "AP Crafters" in Louisville

Friday night, K and I spent the evening at my parents' house in Louisville.  I had appointments there all day, and had spent the late afternoon hunkered down in my parents' basement watching storm coverage and worrying about the boy traveling up later that evening.  Once the weather passed through, my parents went to a friends house for dinner and pretty much left K and me to our own devices for dinner.  Not wanting to make anything, we decided to head up to one of the restaurants nearby to grab a quick bite.  We ended up at AP Crafters in Westport Village after turning down an hour long wait at Mojitos. 

When our waiter greeted us, he asked us what we wanted to drink and then immediately asked if we wanted to start out with some Pretzel Bites.  Ugh...I hate that.  I know it's a common practice at restaurants (or anywhere) to "up-sell" your customer, but it just really annoys me when waiters immediately tell me what I should order.  99% of the time I haven't even looked at the menu yet, and truth be told, we know before we even sit down if it is going to be an "appetizer night" or not.  I know I'm being nit-picky, but it bugs me. 

After we ordered our drinks, we perused the menu.  Slightly disappointed to see that nearly everything on the menu was fried, but that's about what I expected at a "pub" type place like this.  I narrowed my choices down the Fish Tacos and the Salmon.  K quickly narrowed his choice down to the Dixie Diner (aka, the "Heart Attack Special") which consists of fried chicken on country biscuits and mashed potatoes, and covered in bacon gravy.  Ironically enough, it also comes with a coupon for one free visit to a cardiac specialist. When the waiter came back, I asked him what he thought of the fish tacos.  He raved about them and how good they were.  Then I asked him about the Salmon and if he thought it was better.  He raved about the Salmon.  The Salmon is "awesome" too.  I then apologized for asking so many questions about the menu, but that I always ask for the server's opinion when I can't decide because they know the menu so well.  He then admitted to me that he had only been working there about 3 months and hadn't tried hardly anything on the menu.  Ummmm, really?  Because you have now told us how awesome the pretzel bites, dixie diner, salmon, and fish tacos are...call me a cynic, but I find it hard to believe that he had tried any of them after admitting that.  Whatever.  I'll overlook it. 

I ordered the Fish tacos without the ancho aoli mayo, but with a side of the jalapeno salsa that comes with the nachos (for a little spice).  No problem.  I ordered a house salad instead of a side of fries.  No problem.  25 minutes later, my fish tacos were in front of me, but not the salad that I had been assured would be out before the meal.  "Did that salad ever make it out here?" the waiter asked.  "Nope." I said.  He ran back to get it and I looked at the boy like, Well, I don't even need it now that my meal is here!  Regardless, I pushed my tacos aside and waited for the salad while the boy dove in head first to his plate of clogged arteries.  He was in heaven.  I was starving.  I waited another 5 minutes for my salad, and after it came, I picked at it for a few minutes before going to try one of my fish tacos.  Of course, he had forgotten the jalapeno salsa, but he did remember to SMOTHER my tacos in mayo.  Let me be clear on this...I am repulsed by mayonnaise.  Literally.  All of which I explained to our waiter when I was asking him about the ancho aoli sauce.  I picked at my salad for another 5 minutes while I waited for the waiter to re-appear so I could have him fix my order.  When he came back, I explained that there was mayo all over my tacos and that I hadn't gotten the jalapeno salsa I asked for.  His response?  "Well, did you try the tacos with the mayo to see if you liked it?"  Umm...no.  He apologized and took my meal back to fix it while K polished off his meal and then began eating the salad I'd given up on. 



The waiter returned with my corrected meal, and I ate one of the 3 tacos before asking for a to-go box because I was so over it and it was almost 9:30.  We asked for the check so we could settle out and head home.  Now, let me say, I did not ask for the salad to be credited, even though it came out after my meal and I barely ate it, and I did not ask for the repulsive mayo tacos to be credited either.  I did not expect that, nor would I have asked for it.  I was too over it to even care.  What I did not expect was for our waiter to charge us for the ramekin of jalapeno salsa I asked for!  Even though it was only a $0.50 charge, it infuriated me that after all the screw ups with our meal, our waiter had to nickel and dime us at the same time.  That's just bad business.  K and I said nothing...we paid the bill, left a 20% tip and headed home.  When we got in the car, I looked at K and said, "I feel like we would have been better off just setting our money on fire."

Exhibit B: Dinner at Dudley's (on Short) in Lexington


Saturday night, K and I were downtown for a hospitality event with some of my business customers who were going to the Brad Paisley concert.  When the concert began, K and I headed out in search of food downtown, and ended up at Dudley's after a french man sent us away from Table 310 because there was an hour wait for a table.  My brother was meeting up with us, so I ordered a glass of wine and K ordered a Maker's Mark.  Since the boy had helped himself to some of the food at the hospitality event, we were definitely in more of an "appetizer" mood for the evening since neither of us were starving.  When my brother arrived, K and him split a half dozen oysters (gross) and I ordered a starter salad.  After about 45 minutes, my co-worker, Hilary texted and said she was heading over to meet us.  Once she arrived, we chatted it up for a bit, before the waitress came back and asked if we wanted to order anything else.  Let me just say...this girl was really working my nerve.  She kept flitting over and asked if we wanted more drinks when we literally had half-full glasses of wine/bourbon.  While I am sure she was disappointed that we weren't partaking in Filet Mignon, that's not really my problem.  I don't need you to harass me over my drink!  My main problem, however, was the fact that she consistently called me "sweetheart" and "sugar pie" (and not in a sweet, southern way).  This might have been one thing if she had be my mom or grandma's age, but she could not have been a day older than me, and it came off as completely condescending and inappropriate.  It was really annoying me. 

Regardless, we told her we were ready to order.  Hilary got a salad, my brother ordered the crab cake sliders, and I ordered the Pork entree.  When she looked at the boy for his order, he said, "I'm good."  Like I said earlier, he had eaten at the hospitality event and wasn't starving, so he was just going to eat some of my pork.  When she all but rolled her eyes over his decision to not order anything, I chimed in and said, "We ate a little before we got here...he'll probably have some of mine."  She said nothing and left the table. 

When our meal came, I noticed that our waitress had split my pork up and brought out a plate for each of us.  It was very tasty, but I didn't eat a ton of it...after sharing it with everyone at the table, we finished up and called it a night.  We asked for the check and were delighted to see that not only were the boy's Maker's Mark bevvys $10 EACH, our waitress had charged us a $5.00 split entree fee.  Really?????  Since when does, "he's going to eat some of mine" translate to an extra charge.  Maybe we are just not that classy, but I am completely fine with the "grab a fork and dig in method" we usually have when indulging in one another's food. 

Once again, we said nothing and left a 20% tip and headed home. 


Okay, so all that said, let me now say this:  I have worked in many restaurants over the years.  My first job at 16 was washing dishes in the back of a restaurant on Saturday nights.  I have hosted, done carry-out, and been a server.  I get how the restaurant industry works.  I get that our waiter at AP Crafters could have very well put the order in correctly and the kitchen messed it up.  But guess what?  It's your responsibility to make it right.  I don't expect free food or discounted entrees, and I can't remember a time when I have ever requested it, but wouldn't it have been nice if he had offered?  Our experience at AP Crafters would have been completely turned around had our waiter offered dessert on the house (we would have declined) or at least sent the manager over to check on us.  Instead, we left with a horrible taste in our mouth over the whole experience and feeling like we wasted money at that establishment. 

The Dudley's experience was different.  Our waitress was clearly put out that we didn't spend more money at her table and was doing everything to raise our ticket.  The split entree fee was absolutely ridiculous and kind of insulting.  Having worked in many restaurants growing up, it is a rare occasion when I don't tip 20%...it pretty much never happens regardless of the service I get.  However, what I will do is take my business elsewhere the next time I go out.  In today's economy, with people being more and more tight with their money, it is more important than ever to be accommodating to every guest that sits at one of your tables.  For a lot of people, it's a rare occasion to spend their hard earned money on a night out, and things like going out for dinner is a treat.  Even having only ordered a side salad, a glass of wine, 2 makers marks, one entree, and 6 oysters at Dudleys, K and I still spent $150 with tip, and we would expect more than condescension and eye rolling from our server. 

Regardless of the experience we had at these restaurants, let me reiterate that we were nothing but nice throughout our meals.  I don't think you get anywhere (especially at a restaurant) by being a bitch to your server.  It's just so disappointing to spend money somewhere and leave so disappointed, regarless of if it is a 5-star retaurant or the local roadhouse.  We still left a nice tip and said thank you.  But we won't be going back, to either place.

I'm curious...what are your thoughts on going out for dinner?  Was I justified to be annoyed by this?  How do you handle bad service when you go out to eat?

The Buffalo Chicken Dip Incident

Okay, so something happened over the holidays that I haven't had a chance to post about yet, but has come to be referred to around our household as "The Buffalo Chicken Dip Incident".  Please bear with me as I attempt to explain myself.

So, have you ever had one of those moments where you know you're reacting completely irrationally but you can't help yourself?  Like, you're almost floating above your body and watching yourself all while thinking, are you seriously doing this?? Well, I unfortunately do have those moments, and one of them happened on December 22.  Let me start from the beginning.

The Thursday before Christmas was my last day of work for the year, and to say I was sooo ready for it would be a gross understatement.  When I got off work on that Thursday, I did my usual thing - went to the gym and then got ready to head home for the night and pour myself a glass of wine the size of Texas.  Just as I was leaving the gym, I remembered that the boy had a potluck at his work the following day, and of course being culinary-challanged, I knew it would be my responsibility to send him to work with something if there was any hope at it being edible.  Luckily, my gym is right next to a Kroger so I ran in and decided to grab him something for the potluck.  While I was in there, I also picked up a few other groceries for dinner and was browsing the deli and cheese area when I noticed something out of the ordinary - The Buffalo Chicken Dip was on manager special.  Let me preface this buy saying that I love buffy chicken dip (who doesn't)....but I pretty much never eat it.  While I do splurge every now and then, I really do eat healthy and I shop healthy too.  But tonight, for some reason the dip was calling me.  I threw it in my basket and grabbed some tortilla chips and decided since it was on manager special, it was probably at least half the calories too....Anywho...I got home and made the boy and me a nice (healthy) dinner and threw some of that yummy goodness in a bowl and warmed it up for us to share.  Oh, and by "share," I mean I got 2 bites and he ate the rest before I could blink.  No biggie though since we still had the other half in the fridge for later. 

Cut to Friday morning, December 22.  I was off work, but got up with the boy anyways since I had a ton of stuff to get done before heading home to my parent's house that evening.  I made K a big breakfast, and got out the ham and turkey roll-ups I had gotten for his potluck so he wouldn't forget them.  "I didn't pack you a lunch today (yes sometimes I pack him a lunch) since I figured there would be tons of food at the office.  Is that cool?" I asked him.  He agreed and thanked me for being awesome and I went and got ready to take care of my errands. 

I jetted out the door by 9:00 that morning and headed to the mall.  Most of my Christmas shopping had already been taken care of, but there were a few lingering gifts that I had to take care of that day.  So there I was at the mall on December 22...pretty much the last place on earth I wanted to be.  Then I had to go to Joseph Beth and pick up a book for my dad.  Then I remembered I promised my mom I would pick up wine for the weekend and bring it home with me, so I went to the liquor store.  Then I ran into Kohl's to grab one more thing for my sister.  Before I knew it, it was approaching 3:00, and I was pretty much about to eat my own arm.  As I was circling the Kohl's parking lot trying to find a spot I started thinking about that buffy chicken dip sitting in my fridge.  I'm not gonna lie...I was thinking about it a lot.  And every second I thought about it, I got that much hungrier.  Then a scary thought ran through my head - What if the boy ate the rest of it before he went to work??  I cringed at the thought but figured I needed to find out before my craving got any stronger.  So I text him, "Did you eat the rest of that buffalo chicken dip?".  His reply was swift. "No." he wrote.  I was in the clear.  I checked out at Kohls and headed home to wrap my gifts and feed my craving. 

When I got home, I boxed up the gifts I had bought that day and stacked them on top of the already enormous pile of unwrapped gifts that I had been intending to wrap for about a week.  I labeled all the boxes so I didn't get them confused and turned on my favorite Christmas movie - Love Actually.  The plan was to get everything ready to wrap, then grub, then finish wrapping and pack for my parents house.  I grabbed some tortilla chips and went to the fridge to get the dip...

...it wasn't there.

I checked behind the milk.  I checked the crisper drawers.  I checked the egg tray.  I checked the trash.  Then I checked again.  It was gone.  I began to worry I was losing my mind, or at least having some type of mild stroke.  I didn't eat it, and the boy didn't eat it, so where the hell was it??  I text the boy - "Did you take that buffalo chicken dip to work?" I asked.  Another swift reply - "Yeah." 

And this, friends, is what they call The Shit Hitting the Fan.  This is also where my rational mind floats up out of my body and laughs silently at me while watching the next series of events.  I kid you not when I say that I lost it.  I had, after-all, asked him if he had eaten it and he said no.  Apparently he thought he would get off on a technicality.  Wrong.  I yelled screamed at him.  I don't even remember everything that was said.  I may have blacked out from anger.  I threw in phrases like "Lie by omission" and "Why the f*ck would I call and ask about the food in our fridge if I didn't have intention of eating it."  He, of course, thought I was bat-shit crazy which only made me angrier.  How did he not get it?  Has he never had that moment where he was craving something...something that he knew was waiting for him in his fridge...and come to find out that someone else had eaten stolen it?  He also did not understand why I didn't just get over it and pick some more up at the store.  I'll tell you why...because we live in Nicholasville and we have the shittiest Kroger in the world by our house that doesn't sell the buffy dip in question.  Nor does the next closest Kroger to us.  Nope.  You have to drive by 3 Krogers to get to the one that sells it.  Another reason why I asked him before I headed home.  I could have picked more up had I known. 

I think my stream of explatives went on for about 10 minutes before I finally got off the phone with him (from sheer disgust) and did what any normal 27 year old girl does after something like this.  I called my mom.  And I cried. Yes, for shame.  I cried.  Over buffalo chicken dip.  I explained to my mom how I woken up early and made him breakfast, made sure he had what he needed for his work potluck, and then had spent all day running around Lexington like a crazy person 3 days before Christmas, finishing up my Christmas shopping and running errands.  I hadn't done one thing that day for myself.  I hadn't even showered.  And the one thing I wanted in the whole damn world was the $2.00 dip I bought the night before.  And I couldn't have it.  She totally got it.  We both knew it was irrational, but some things can't be helped.  "So what are you going to eat now?" she asked.  "Nothing.  I had my stomach set on the dip and now nothing sounds good!" 

I wish it had ended there, but sadly it didn't.  While I was on the phone with my mom, the boy beeped in and left me a voicemail.  I thought it would be at least some kind of apology for misleading me about the stupid dip, but it was actually a stern message about how he "didn't appreciate" me calling him at work and screaming at him about something so stupid.  A serious mistake on his part.  Why don't boys learn??  For the next 4 hours it was the silent treatment until we had yet another argument about the message and finally agreed that there was no resolution since he thought I had lost my mind, and I was already watching reruns of "Snapped" on Oxygen and taking notes in my journal. 

Obviously I got over it, and even while it was happening, I was 100% aware of how ridiculous of an argument it was.  But I am curious if I am truly a ridiculous as I am sure I come across in this post, or if anyone else has had a moment like this when you lose it over something you know is dumb.  Have you ever had one of those days?  More importantly, is any of my reaction to this incident justified?  Help me settle this debate - even though we are laughing about it now, we are still in disagreement over the whole thing, so I am interested in what some of my rational readers have to say!
By the way...tomorrow is Friday.  Thank goodness!!!!!!

Vodka = The Cure for Mondays

Greetings...I am coming to you from yet another vodka monday here in the new place.  I'll make this one short and sweet...I've had quite the day. 



So, as a cure for the Mondays, I soaked in the whirlpool tub (with the bubbles on) and tried relax.  Now I am laying in bed, catching up on all my blogs and enjoying these:



Vodka tonic...



My favorite show ever

  

And that's pretty much my evening....vodka and Felicity.  Call me crazy but I love the show (it's my all-time favorite), and I covet my DVD's of all 4 seasons.

Anyways, Happy Monday blog world :-)