Who is this person

For serious I am morphing into a person I do not know. I have turned into a militant plastic bag hater. I blame my work environment. Y'all the upper management has done away with plastic trash bags at desks.

My friends, that is hard core plastic hate.

I always do my best to recycle plastic bags when I go grocery shopping, or I use them in the bathroom for trash, but recent freezer stockpiling trips have made me hate the pile of bags in my kitchen cabinet that spill out like a dirty, environment hating secret every time it is opened.

And then the cats think oh joy.....let me roll around on these until I am a static furball and get tangled up in them.

And then I hose myself in bactine from all the unintentional cat scratches from the untangling drama.

So I have ordered Chico bags. They are pretty cool. The bags come in all sorts of colors (or an "Earth" graphic if you so choose). I chose Earth.



As you can see, they come in nifty little carrying bags that have a clip so you can tether them to whatever. I am pumped to receive my purchase.

I promise that I will not go over the edge with my green-ness. If I suddenly start buying boxed wine because I fear that I am wasting too much glass, please commit me, but remember to pack my tiara.

I know....I know.....

Bad....bad blogger am I. I have neglected Not That Cool, which is so, um, not cool of me to do?

So let me bring my whole 2 readers up to speed. My birthday was last Friday, and it was super awesome. Before the actual day, I began to receive cards.....cards with birthday money in them....also known as the BestFrigginKindOfBirthdayCardOneCanReceive. If you are one of those people that think otherwise, get the honk off my blog.

So with the influx of money, I began to treat myself to.....things. I have an uneasy relationship with things, as in I don't really like to buy things, because I feel like I am just accumulating things, and sometimes I am so anti-thing that I go without things that I should really have.

It's a self care thing that I'm kinda not good at.

So here I am, with a wad of dough, trying my level best to spend it. I bought myself a pretty new shirt (that is a whole size smaller than I used to wear RAWWKKK), and Hob Nobs from the World Market (chocolate covered British oatmeal cookies. They are the essence of rad).

I bought a book, Austenland, by Shannon Hale which is turning out to be pretty great. If you understand the hottness that is Mr. Darcy sopping wet after a dip in the estate pond, you really should read this book yo.

I got other stuff and things that I wanted/needed too. But here's the big thing.

I got a haircut y'all. I have been trying forever to get my hair nice and long so that I can donate it to Locks of Love, but along the way I sacrificed any semblance of personal style. So I got 1 inch trimmed off the bottom, a lot of bulk removed, and bangs y'all. I got bangs.

I am super happy with it, and I don't even mind being high maintenance and applying a flat iron to re-create this look.

I might change my Not That Cool picture to this since it is so outdated, or perhaps I should don my tiara for that? It might be warranted. Tiaras are not just for vacuuming and chore time you know.

My husband was also extremely wonderful. On my birthday, he showed up at work with a dozen roses. Then that night we went to Maggiano's. My birthday celebration did not stop on Friday. Early on Saturday we drove to Chattanooga (my husband had a job to shoot there). When we were done with the shoot, we visited the Aquarium (I digged the otters, they were merry) and then had a lovely meal at a steakhouse. I ordered ahi tuna. I blame this on the fact that I had been staring at fish all day, wondering why they were not swimming in a delicate wine and butter sauce.

Sunday we drove home, and we had a great urge to get our shit together (this doesn't happen often, so we acted on it). We bought blackout curtains for the bedroom (extremely needed since the sun blasts into our bedroom in the morning. After they were hung I found every receipt, invoice and bill and filed them away. The house looked awesome, and that was a present too.

Okay so the blog is now up to speed. I will try to post more, but yeah I've said that before.

Brang it on Mother Nature

I was walking to work this morning, and had almost reached my destination, when it happened.

A bird shat on me.

Birds are merry, and therefore I harbor no ill-will towards them. I make a point of not running over them when they are in the path of my car. I thought I was simpatico with the birds.

Then this one effing bird shat on me.

What oh what did I ever do to you Mother Nature, that you would send a minion to do your evil bidding? I've always been nice to the birds. Remember that one baby bird, which we named Spunky, that we rescued from the neighborhood cat? Pretty sure that we saved its life. Is your attention span really that short?

Fine you bitch goddess. You want to start something, brang it Mama. You have no idea who you are messing with. Oh, just in case you'd like another shot at me, I don't have an umbrella today, and they are talking about thundershowers for this evening.

Serve and Protect

Dear Motorist on My Ass this Evening on Trousdale Drive,

Yes, I was going the posted speed of 35 miles per hour. I was riding my brake down that hill so that I stayed at 35 miles per hour. You were on my ass SUV driver, probably pissed because your KFC bucket o'chicken was rapidly cooling and congealing.

You were on my ass down the hill, you were on my ass around the bend.

And then there he was, the policeman with the radar gun that gave me a speeding ticket yesterday. I don't know if you noticed him, because you were probably glaring at me and saying words that could peel the paint off your Nissan Murano, but because of me you were going 35 miles per hour, and therefore do not have to pay Metro Government the $107 I will have to pony up in 45 days or less.

After the radar trap, you again were on my ass. I don't know if you even noticed, but you're welcome, and I hope your extra crispy recipe is rad.

Weekend Wanderlust

Y'all I got the vacation jimmy-legs......bad. I need to get away. It has been forever, and my current job makes it impossible to be gone for any great length of time. I really need to do this for the good of the people around me. A well-rested, realxed Not That Cool would be less inclined to stab people with her letter opener.

I'm thinking a road trip would be best. My husband has a hott convertible that I happen to look awesome in, and it's just so much more interesting too see the random things that the road brings then to be trapped on an airplane with your beverage and salted snack.

So here's an option not too far from Nashville.

Natchez Trace to Tuscumbia, Alabama and Tupelo, Mississippi. The Natchez is so pretty and non-commercial, and you can see deer, wild turkeys and extremely strange people. On my last drive on it, we pulled of at one of the observation areas, and I saw a old guy that looked like he had a boy scout uniform on, eating a snack by his car festooned with confederate loving stickers.

Um yeah we drove on.

Okay getting back to Tuscumbia....why that particular town you ask? Because it sounds so wonderfully small southern town, and I love that. I love going to places where it feels like you are a walking anachronism in a place very much older than you. Also, Helen Keller's home is there, and open to tours.

But I haven't told you the best part. They have a coon dog cemetery in Tuscumbia.

AWWWWWEEEEESOOOOMMME. I want to bring a picnic lunch, complete with pink boxed wine with plastic cups, and give a toast to Bean Blossom Bomma, who according to the headstone was "a joy to hunt with."

Then we could go on to Tupleo, Mississippi, tell locals that we think Elvis' music sucked ass, and then find out just how fast the hott car can actually go whilst trying to avoid the buckshot.

So yeah, that's the plan.

Fountain

I have a 15 minute walk every day to and from my car to work. On my journey, I pass in front of the Metro Courthouse, and admire this fountain. Since it is Summer, and I walk mostly in full sun, I am friggin hot by this point in my walk. I can feel the coolness of the water even though I do not get very close, and I can smell the chlorine.

And then I am at my destination, working for da man.

On the trip back to my car, if it is a fine day, I usually see kids cris-crossing though the jets, swimming trunks so sopped full of water that they are drooping.

Y'all they look so merry.

One of these beastly hot days, I am going to drop my lunch bag and purse, and just walk into that water and get absolutely soaked. I am going to drop the shackles of adulthood, and be a merry kid. It is going to be awesome.

Until I realize I will now have to walk the rest of the way in clingy wet clothes. Ick.

Lovely

So I just got back from the library.

I saw a nun, and she was just lovely. Not the magazine-airbrushed fictional type of lovely, but the lovely that you get from joy and contentment. She radiated those qualities in her countenance.

I wish I was that kind of lovely. Now this is not a pity party, but shit y'all, just shit.

I do lots of creative stuff, but I have never considered myself excellent at any one pursuit. She looked like she was excellent in her love of Christ, and that is wonderful.

So then I perused the new fiction titles, and was absolutely bored. Themed murder mysteries involving florists, cat lovers, bakers, etc. Highly colored covers with cutesy fonts and cartoons of faboo skinny ladies involved in random antics......new fiction indeed. Seems that everyone that has access to a computer believes they can write a book.

I guess I should lump myself into that category. I would really like to be good at the book writing thing, and I do believe my story is original. Shit I just want to be lovely.