Ten Randoms on This Here Saturday

One

Christmas cards are like the dangly earrings of the holiday season.  I refer to them as my Christmas crack.  Because I cannot get enough of them.  Seeing my friends and family all looking cute as clams just makes me happy inside.  And it's like I always say, "The family that color coordinates together...stays together."  So if you sent me a Christmas card or plan to, know that I do and will appreciate it.  If you didn't send me one or don't plan to send me one, you really should dammit.

Two
Knowing me the way you do, you would probably never guess this, but I am absolutely the kind of girl who uses the antique china.  I use it.  For water.  For coffee.  For stir-fry veggies.  For cubes of cheese.  For sweet potato fries.  For baby tomatoes.  I've been using those cups I was gifted on Halloween like they are the only dishes in my cupboard.  Am I afraid one will get broken?  Of course not.  I'm perfect.  I would never break one.  Wait.  I'm not perfect.  Not even close.  I know one could end up with a crack or be shattered on the floor, but life is too short to not use the antique china that I love.

Three
See those pictures way up there.  The ones around my title.  Well, they are driving me slightly batty because they are still fall themed.  Here's why they are not all Christmas-ed up.  My computer crashed.  Remember?  And on that computer was all of my software used for such endeavors as changing the look of this space.  So until I figure out how to get said computer to figure out that yes, it has a hard drive, it will be fall here.  Even though it's driving my type ayyy self looney.

Four

I went to Sherwin Williams, the paint store, on Thursday afternoon and this is the exact conversation that went down.  I walked through the door.  The bell made the dingle noise and...

Guy:  How are you today?

Me:  I'm on just this side of fabulous.

Guy:  Really?  We were just talking about being in good moods.

Me:  Well I tell you what...you hit the good mood jackpot right here.

Guy:  So what can we help you with?

Me:  I have this friend.  She has three babies under the age of three.  Three.  Under Three.  So you know what that means?  That means she doesn't get to leave her house to come and do things like pick out paint colors.  And she's building a house.  Her husband is actually building it, but you know what I mean.  Anyways, I need one of those paint sample things that swings out and BAM!! all the colors are there for you to see.

Guy:  They are right over here.

Me:  Holy smokes!  I love this already.  I think I will go home and sit by the Christmas tree and memorize the colors and their names.  This is right up my alley.  {As I fanned it out and smelled it.}

Guy:  Then you could work here.

Me:  Yeah I could.  But the problem with that is I already have a good job.  Well, it's not that it's a good job in that I get paid big money.  It's a good job in that I love it and it's...it's...it's just good I guess.  

Guy:  What do you do?

Me:  See now this is where it gets confusing.  I am a teacher.  Kind of.  But not really.  I used to be a fourth grade teacher and now I'm a performance strategist for two schools.  

Guy:  Huh?

Me:  I told you.  It's weird.  It means I strategize performance.

Guy:  That helps a lot.  And it sounds mildly inappropriate.  

Me:  It's not!  For pete's sake, I work for a school district.  And besides that, I'm not inappropriate at all.  

Guy:  Your total is nine dollars and sixty-two cents.  You saved thirty-seven cents because you are preferred customer.  

Me:  Of course I'm a preferred customer.  It's because my name is Amy.

Guy:  Riigghhht.  

Me:  No it really is.  All people named Amy are creative.

Guy:  Where did you read that?

Me:  Oh, I just made it up.  

Guy:  Alright well you have fun picking out those paint colors.

Me:  Don't you worry, I will.  And you don't shit the bed tonight okay?  

Guy:  I thought you said you weren't inappropriate.

Me:  Oh, I just made that up too.  

And then, without another word spoken besides laughter from us all, I grabbed my paint sample twisty thing of love and walked out the door.  

Five
Instead of responding with a K or an okay when texting, I have started saying okie.  It's like my version of okie dokie.  But better.  And it makes me feel a little country when I use it.  Like meet me out back with our cowboy boots on and pig tail braids and let's shoot something.  Okie. 

Six
Speaking of cowboy boots, I wore a pair all day yesterday.  On Thursday evening, I made the trip out to the farm to go shopping at the store I refer to as "Sister Pister's Closet."  Her two friends were also over so that meant I tried on clothes in front of three teenage girls.  You cannot get a more ideal situation for clothes shopping than that.  They are honest.  And I like honesty.  So after I snagged up a black blazer, a few dresses, a sweater, a t-shirt, a scarf, a belt, and a partridge in a pear tree...I spotted her old cowboy boots.  They are the ones she uses when doing real cowgirl work.  In other words, they are the pair she wears riding when rounding up cattle and the pair she wears when walking and running through actual cow poop that is so deep it hits mid-calf level.  They were nasty.  Covered in about five years worth of caked on poo, straw, and other findings.  But they are worn in and that's the part I enjoyed.  Rustic and well loved.  I took them home with my other loot and at 11:17 that night, I was leaned against my bathtub with a scrub brush.  Cleaning poop off boots.  There was water involved.  And let me just say this.  Dried five year old cow poop is not so bad.  But when it becomes wet, it is bad.  There was wet poo spray coming at me left and right.  Totally worth it though.  Because the boots are all cleaned up and looking very used which makes them almost feel vintage.  Which makes my heart happy.  I won't talk about the part that they are a size too small for me so my feet were slightly numb all day yesterday.  Sometimes a girl has to make sacrifices for fashion.  Like poo spray in the face and numb feet out on a Friday night.

Seven
Instincts.  We have them.  We have them for a reason.  I listened to my instincts earlier this week and had an eye opening experience in which my world was rocked.  Rocked.  That feeling we get in our gut is not to be ignored.  I will never push the flip flip in my stomach away again.  Ever.  And that's all I'm going to say about that.      

Eight

I have had the urge to make sugar cookies for about a week.  I want to make my Grandma Audrey's recipe because it's the best.  And I want to roll them out with a wooden rolling pin and use different sized circle cutters to turn them into ornaments and I want to decorate them with powdered sugar icing in ziploc baggies with the corner cut out.  You would think I would just do it since apparently it's on my brain.  But the problem is, I don't actually want them when I'm done.  Do any of you want me to make you sugar cookies?  They'll be pretty.  And tasty.  They'll be pretty tasty.  

Nine

When one's world is rocked, it's best to remember your center.  That part of you that makes you YOU.  So here's what I've been doing.  Running, reading, writing, taking pictures, laughing, drinking coffee, telling stories while swinging my hands all around, loving on my friends and family, borrowing Sister Pister's clothes, standing up for myself, and being the strong girl I know I am.  

Ten

I could eat air popped popcorn with sea salt for every meal.  But I don't.  I don't want to turn into a kernel.  But seriously.  It's so yummy.  In fact, I am eating some right this very second.  I'm eating popcorn and drinking coffee and writing.  On an early Saturday morning.  My cool factor could be in need of some work.