JOHNNY FREAKING FOOTBALL

Go ahead and roll your eyes if you must (since the Crimson Tide wasn't able to)...if you know me, you HAD to know this post was coming.

I BLEED MAROON!

And none of this band wagon, t-shirt fan nonsense. I root for my boys every year. And for as many seasons as I can remember, all I catch from people is crap.Why? Because our team hasn't been a winning one in a very long time. But we hold on hope because, well, it's in our blood. WE are the 12th man...and we will take the heart ache, because we are just that loyal. For those of you who don't know, Texas A&M left the Big 12 in a history making move and joined the SEC. A winning conference. THE conference by many people's standards. And Lord have mercy did we hear it all. "A&M will never make it in the SEC", "Y'all are going to have your maroon asses handed to you all season", "The Aggies are going to be the joke of the conference" and blah, blah, blah, blah, blahhhh.

Personally? I wasn't surprised by any of those comments. Yes, we made a big move. Yes, we have a new coach, and if history serves as any reminder, odds are we aren't going to bring much to the table. So I kept my trash talking mouth closed, my hopes high, and held my breath every Saturday since the season started...and prayed for a miracle.

And it worked. We've lost 2 games, but they were anything but a beating. We stepped up, and we started WINNING. And then we got to this Satruday. Texas A&M vs. Alabama, the defending Naional Champions and #1 team in the country. Everyone was expecting a masacre. There was NO WAY the Ags, even with an on the road winning streak, stood a snowball's chance in hell against the Crimson Tide.

And then came Johnny Football. By the end of the first quarter we were up 20-0 and my heart was racing faster than I can ever remember. The game was EPIC. Alabama came back with a vengeance, but in the end, my Aggies won the game. Dethroned the #1 team and walked away with a 29-24 victory. (I literally just got chills typing that...not even sorry!)

Ya'll? Saturday was the best gameday of my Aggie life. I sports cried. Judge me if you will, but I know I wasn't the only one. Everybody loves an underdog story, and for those of us who stand by our team, win or lose, this weekend was worth any disapointment in the past, or in the future. This weekend the AGGIES were on top, and I was on cloud nine.



Way to go Ags. I couldn't be MORE proud to be a part of such an indescribable community. My Aggie ring is shining a little brighter, and I'll be wearing maroon every day for the rest of the season.

A&M! GIVE US ROOM!

WHOOP!!!!!!

Always,

L
Proudest Member of the Fightin' Texas Aggie Class of 2009!

A lesson in domestic violence

People fight. Married people? They are no exception. And any married person who tells you otherwise, is a big fat liar....or, has their life much more together than me and the hubs do. Either way, I'm here to tell you that sharing your life with a boy ain't no picnick, and some days...you just want to punch them.

Cue Thursday. I got home from work, and captain bossy is all, "hurry up, lets go, we're gonna be late, blah blah blah". Let me back up a minute. Did I mention that he was off work ALL day...just chilling at home on the couch eating cheetos? And I was getting home from the world's longest day at the office, literally still climbing out of the car when he started all this nonesense? I think it goes without saying that I was grouchy. I was even more annoyed with the fact that we've been at this for ELEVEN years. You'd think by now this kid would know how NOT to push my buttons and turn me voilent.

Anyway, we were headed out to eat with his parents for my birthday and he was so sure we were gonna be late. And that my tardiness was super rude. Did I mention it was also ONLY 5:15? *insert eye roll here*

So we're bickering. And I'm getting more stabby by the second. Fast forward 30 minutes and I'm practically planning out where to bury his lifeless body, and he's still all, "yap yap yap you're inconsiderate". As we get closer to the house, he's tells me he doesn't want me to ruin dinner with my bad attitude. I beg your freaking pardon?! I politely informed him it was MY birhtday dinner and I'd be as hostile as I felt like...and he could bite me.

Now he's begging me to, "get in a better mood" and all I can say through my gritted teeth is how very much I would like to punch him. In the face. Twice.

What happened next, I never saw coming. Like, at all. He stops the car. He looks at me and asks, "if you punch me, can we be done and have a good time tonight?". My face must've been screaming YES, because before I could answer, he grabs my already balled up fist, and knocks himself upside the head with it. HARD. As in, his glasses fell off his face.

And y'all? I was INSTANTLY in a fabulous mood. All my frustration was gone. And as I sat there and stared at him, we both just erupted into laughter. I felt better. He was happy because I wasn't grumpy. And although it might have been the most disfuncntional fight we've had to date...I've never loved him more. We had an awesome time at dinner, and I was given the best blog material in marriage history. Gateway domestic violence for the win.

Hot mess, party of two? Your table is now available.

Always,

L

Happy Birthday

There were a lot of things I missed out on blogging about when I went on my hiatus. None of them were more final than the loss of the greatest man I've ever known. Today is his birthday, and this is for him.

"See You Again"
Carrie Underwood



Said goodbye, turned around, and you were gone, gone, gone. Faded into the setting sun. Slipped away.


But I won't cry cause I know, I'll never be lonely. For you are the stars to me. You are the light I follow.


I will see you again. This is not where it ends. I will carry, you with me. Till I see you again.


I can hear those, echoes in the wind at night. Calling me back in time. Back to you.


In a place far away, where the water meets the sky. The thought of it makes me smile. You are my tomorrow.


I will see you again. This is not where it ends. I will carry, you with me. Till I see you again.


Sometimes, I feel my heart is breaking. But I stay strong, and I hold on...cause I know.


I will see you again.


Until then, all my love.

Always,

L

I went to jail

In keeping with my robber theme, I thought I'd share an extremely unpleasant experience I had last week. One where I literally went to jail. Well, chicken jail. 

This was one of those "if it can go wrong, it will" kind of mondays. And all I wanted to do was go home, watch trash television, eat fried chicken, and color with my new glitter crayons in my Lisa Frank coloring book. In that order. Incredibly mature, I know. Just let me.

So, on my way home from the longest day EVER, I stopped at the Golden Chick. And this is the series of events that followed...

Unless you live under a rock, or are really in to some fad diet, you are familiar with standard drive through establishment etiquette. You pull forward, you order, you drive past the 1st window (because apparently there is some kind of fast food inside joke that I'm missing) and pay/get your food at the second window. 

WRONG. Enter bitch on wheels. 22 inch platinum wheels to be more precise. Oh and a spare. On the back of her not SUV. This woman, bless her heart, almost made me kill her. And let me just say this...I would have been applauded by everyone else at Golden Chick that day. 

She pulls forward. She orders. She pulls forward. She REVERSES. She hangs out the widow with her phone. She orders some more. She pulls forward. And I shit you not, she reverses and adds to her order AGAIN. 

You know that big nasty vein that always shows ups on a murders forehead right before they snap and kill everyone? Mine was clearly visible. Throbbing in fact. Oh but don't worry. This story gets way better. 

So now it's finally (15 minutes later mind you) my turn to order. Here is where things just get asinine. The people tell me they are out of chicken. I did mention this is a CHICKEN place, right? So, I decide this is just not gonna happen for me. I can't wait another 15 minutes for you to cook more. I'm over this day and most certainly over this food chain. So I decide to leave. I look  behind me...

This is when I realize that I am literally TRAPPED. With 3 cars in front of me and 2 behind me...who all have NO problem with spending the remainder of their evening at the Chick. No path of escape is available aside from abandoning redcar and walking home. So, there I sat. For the next 30 minutes. THIRTY.MINUTES. 

And you want to know how they assured me they were sorry for my wait? A free dinner? Negative. One extra roll. ONE. 

Worst.Apology.Ever. 

The moral of the story? I got fresh, hot, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, colored the most fabulous rainbow leopard this side of a gay pride parade and I only had to serve an hour in chicken jail. 

Hashtag lifefail. 

Always,

L

For catchy title see below

(**EDIT: it has been brought to my attention that I should clarify that I am, in fact, a responsible adult. I am NOT a bank robber. I am a productive, working member of society, perfectly capable of borrowing/paying a mortgage loan from any financial institution generous enough to lend it. I should also state that the title and contents of this post are completely, 100% an exaggerated attempt at satire. Oh, and Im not really a witch either. End edit***).

Balls. Being a grown up requires more thinking before blogging than I'm used to.

*insert eye roll here*

Original post:

"I robbed a bank"

Oh hi. You like how just lured you in with a flashy title while simultaneously glossing over my multi-month absence from the blogosphere? Me too. Suffice it to say that my new life as a burglar has kept me busy.

Ok. I didn't rob a bank. But I did buy a house, which is practically the same thing. I mean, seriously!? Who in their right mind would lend me a stupid amount of money for a house?! And not just any house. A magical house. FULL of whimsy. And awesome. Nobody, thats who. Therefore I must be a bank robber. Or...stop. A WITCH. Go with me on this. Two weeks ago, my nephew informed me that my eyelashes were spiders (hey lash blast, thanks for nothing), AND I saw an owl one morning on my way to work. Combine that with the voodoo I pulled on the bank and the fact that it's October...my letter from Hogwarts should be arriving any day. It's totally ok to be jealous.

But for real, we did buy a house. And I'm so in love with it, it should be illegal. We will be closing in a few weeks, and I'm so excited! I don't want to jinx anything so these few pictures will have to hold you over until everything is official official. And yes I meant to say it twice.




I know what you're thinking, and I can assure you, that IS a spiral staircase. And original, 1940's hardwood floors. I die.

Peace, love, and pumpkins!

Always,

L


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Holy Sickness Batman

Exactly.

Yep. That just about sums it up. Going on 10, TEN days of being sick. Currently on my second round of antibiotics and steroids, THIRD round of cough syrup/pills and I think I've annihilated about 4 inhalers. Lung transplant anyone?

Anyway, I have a bunch of cool things to blog about. Like pinterest projects I've (halfway) completed, wedding showers, trying unsuccessfully to sell NINE puppies (any takers? no seriously, they are adorbs. you want one, you know you do!), Yankee coming to visit in TWO WEEKS and all kinds of other stuff. Buuuuut that's not happening today. Maybe this weekend. If you're lucky.

Grouchtastic doesn't even begin to cover my attitude lately. So all of you who are actually dealing with me in real life, consider yourselves saints. Especially hubster.

Peace, love, and bronchial congestion...

Always,

L

Too good not to share.

"...I’d recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I’d committed to “the End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it."

The above is an excerpt from this article I stumbled across a few days ago. Hubs and I both read and loved it. No matter where you are in life, relationship, marriage, I think it is worth the read. Navigating your life with someone isn't always butterflies and roses. It's work. Sometimes (a lot of times) you aren't both in the same frame of mind emotionally, spiritually or otherwise. What this woman was able to do, for herself, her children, and for her marriage is more than admirable. The lesson of being their for your spouse, by whatever means necessary, comes through loud and clear.

Here's to taking responsibility for our own happiness.

Always,

L


 http://theweek.com/article/index/99512/the-last-word-he-said-he-was-leaving-she-ignored-him

Short and Sweet...

...it's better than nothing at all, right? Just wanted to post this adorable-melt-your-heart-into-tiny-pieces picture of B and Uncle Nate.

I'm so happy to report that Bryce is finally HOME and doing amazing. All 3lbs 10oz of him. And, since life likes to mess with me, I am, of course, sick as a dog  and cant see him just yet. But not to worry, he knows his YaYa loves him, I'm sure of it :)

OH, and because I'd just like to kill you with adorableness:

If that doesn't make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you might want to hightail it on over to Oz and ask for a new heart. Robot.

More updates about life and bridesmaiding and all that jazz soon, I promise. But hopefully this will tide you over in the mean time.

Always,

L

B is for: Bryson, Bridesmaid-ing, and a blogging comeback

Oh hey! Remember that one time I used to blog? But then the inevitable "i can't commit to ANYTHING" syndrome kicked in? And life got busy and this little slice of the internet machine was left to collect cyber cobwebs? Yeah, that just happened.

I'm not sure how many of you are even still out there reading this, but I do know one very persistent Yankee (who BTW will be here in MARCH) that is on the verge of physical violence in regards to my lack of blogging. So if anything, this one is for you dollface.

So, since I have over a month of things to catch up on, I thought I'd just give each post a letter theme, you know, like on Sesame Street? Clever, I know. And yes I realize I skipped the letter A. It's pretentious and gets all the recognition for being at the beginning of the alphabet and I've got no time for a stuck up letter stealing the show. I decided it's time that another letter get to shine; so, as should go without saying, B was the obvious choice.

Ok, all of that was total bullsh. I just happen to be a fan of alliteration and as the fates would have it, I had three things to talk about that started with a B. You're welcome. I feel rusty at this. I've been keeping all my crazy pent up in my brain, or just unloading on the hubs, so typing all this up feels kinda silly. And kinda rambley. Oh well. You decided to click the link, what does that say about you?

Anyyyway. Lots to talk about so lets get to it. First, and most importantly, I'm a YaYa again! That's right, I am the proudest most smitten aunt to a new little nugget of sunshine. World, meet Bryson (Bryce) Louis Hunke. Born 2/4 at 9:12am, weighing a whopping 3lbs 2oz.

Now, since I have been the world's worst blogger lately, I never filled y'all in about the not-so-ideal pregnancy my sister-in-law had. Suffice it to say that she was on bed rest for about 2 months, and after many doctors visits, (most importantly counseling from the incredible Dr. Daum) they determined, for whatever reason, that B wasn't growing enough. So after only 34 weeks of "cooking" it was time for him to make his grand entrance into the world. He came out screaming, and is doing remarkably well. He can breathe on his own, but the CPAP machine just makes it easier on his little lungs, and doesn't force his little body to burn as many calories. Momma is recovering well from her C-section (she's a trooper!) and Dad is an incredibly proud papa. We SO overjoyed about this perfect teensy addition to our family! Any prayers or well wishes for my SIL's continued recovery, and fast weight gain for little B would be more than appreciated.

What was the other B thing I needed to talk about? Oh yeah, bridesmaid-ing. Yes, i just made that into a verb. Anything can be made into a verb by adding -ing. Read a book.

So I have the pleasure of being in not one, but TWO weddings this coming April, which makes March the month of bachelorette parties. It's ok to be jealous. I'm actually in charge of throwing one of them, and as Maid of Honor I really hope I don't screw it up! If any of you reading this are KJ's bridesmaids, scouts honor I'm putting together the email with all the weekend details and you WILL see it this week. I swear. If you don't, please bombard my facebook telling me how big of a slacker I am. Seriously. I'm actually co-hosting another shower this month, which, since I obviously SUCK at multi-tasking, has taken center stage.

None of that is really the point. All the showers/parties aside, I just can't wait to stand next to two of my absolute best/closest friends, on their special day. It's an honor I don't take lightly, or for granted. Both of them stood beside me on my wedding day, and I can't wait to do the same for them.

I was reminded the other day, (when I was literally on the verge of a panic attack because of all of the activities and things I have coming up/am committed to) how blessed I am. All of the things I have going on, are good and happy things. Wonderful, life changing things, that I am so fortunate to be a part of. Even when I'm overwhelmed I just keep telling myself that.

It also helps that my husband is the bomb. No seriously y'all, you know that "made for TV" marriage bliss that every romcom force feeds you? The vomit inducing, all encompassing happiness that, as of our first few years of marriage had been elusive at best? We've found it. (Technically, we'd had it all along...we'd just gotten lazy, and needed a tune up, but that's a post for another day).  We had to work at it. And we will have to keep working at it, everyday. But that's a responsibility I will happily take on. I am married to my best friend. We get to play house, build forts and watch Saturday morning cartoons together, for the rest of our lives. How bad ass is that? Going on 11 years and the kid still gives me butterflies, and is the best part of my day. And I'm happy abundantly joyful.

How's that for a blogging comeback?

Always,

L