Is This Thing On?

Oh, hi. Didn't see you there, blog, sitting in the corner gathering dust for *checks calender* *rubs eyes* gulp 2 years. My bad.

Clearly, lots of things have changed. Trying to play catch-up with the whole bloggy world in one post would probably make my fingers fall off & my head explode, so I'll spare us all the pain & suffering of even attempting it. Just one little observation I've made from reading my last few posts, though: apparently I had a lot of anger back then that I didn't know I carried around on a daily basis. Thankfully, I've managed to let go of most of that.

Anywho... let's hit the high notes of the major changes in the last gulp 2 years.

• I moved again. Living with Hunter and Brittney (who are now married! yay!) was awesome, but it clearly wasn't meant to last. When the two of them got engaged, I knew eventually things would have to change, but we were all happy and having fun. Then a lot of stuff starting going down behind the scenes at my job. As the cracks in the facade started to show, I grew increasingly unhappy with some of the major aspects of the work I was being asked to do. Fortunately for me, I was in a rekindled relationship that was heating up quickly, so I had at least a little bit of happy to fall back on. We started talking about moving in together. At first I thought it was just that: talk. Then it got more serious. He REALLY wanted me to move in, & I wanted to get away from work hell. I finally bit the bullet & started looking for new jobs- in a new city, btw -and things just moved at lightning speed from there. My first interview wanted to hire me, immediately, so I put in my notice at work, talked to the roomies, and off I went. Goodbye, old job, old friends, and Birmingham. Hello, new job, new friends, big relationship step, and Madison.


• That relationship I mentioned? Amazing. James and I had known each other since our 2nd year at Auburn, and we ran in a circle of friends that was- and still is -pretty close. We had tried to date once before, but then he graduated and moved to Huntsville while I moved back to Birmingham. Fast forward two years, and we decided to give it another (much more successful) go. I was nervous about living together, as you can probably imagine from some of the feelings that came out of the last time I lived with someone. (Obvious statement is obvious.) From the day that I moved in, walking into the house felt like the place I belonged. Things couldn't have been better. Then? He proposed four days before my birthday this year. We're getting married in the spring. :)


• The dog- Layla. When I decided to leave Birmingham, I knew there was no way that I could let her stay with The Ex. (Sidebar: writing about him feels strange now, because I realize that I don't think about him anymore.) My sweet, fat, happy puppy is now at her very spoiled and fattest happiest with my parents. It still bothers me that she's so far away, but my parents have become super attached to her been amazing. She will eventually come to live with James and me, on the day when the heavens smile down upon our bank accounts and the backyard gets a fence. Fences aren't cheap, y'all.

Now that we're all caught up on the major things, maybe I'll be back around soon to fill you in on all the fun details. Hopefully before another 2 years go by...

Wow.

"A picture's worth a thousand words," indeed. Thanks to my Google Reader, I'm now addicted to this website. It's like bumper stickers on Facebook, but better. MUCH better.






Pictures courtesy of http://icanread.tumblr.com

Things I Want to Say Out Loud: Blog Edition

You know those things that bug the everliving tar out of you, but you can't say anything about it because the socially acceptable thing to do is just plaster on a fake smile that you're secretly seething behind and fight the urge to scream your thoughts with every strained breath through your teeth? Well, I'm gonna say 'em, because I'm annoyed. To maintain some tiny shred of social acceptability (is that a word? I don't care), I'm going to be as general and vague as possible. I might fail miserably, because as I said I'M ANNOYED. (Side note: I did this once on Twitter, and it made me feel lots better. It also might have gotten me in a little bit of an uncomfortable situation at work, but that's resolved now.)

DISCLAIMER: If anything I say hurts your feelings because you think I'm talking about you, you're probably wrong. Some, if not most, of the things I'm about to say are entirely sarcastic and may or may not reflect my true feelings when I'm not in a hyper-annoyed state. However, if you think that any of the things you read might apply to you, you should probably take a good long look at yourself & realize that someone out there has probably wanted to say something like this to you at some point or another. I'm sure I'm also guilty of some of these things. All comments should be taken with a large glass of Snark and a swig of STFU, Lydia.

And... we're off!

Just because there is a bell lying on a counter does not mean you have to ring it. The people who work in the place where said bell resides probably hear that bell more often than you think, & that sound is not particularly pleasant. If your child is the perpetrator, it's not as cute or funny as you think it is.

Congratulations on your marriage, really. Now please find something else to talk about, because chances are that all your friends (and possibly your family) think your spouse is a jerk and don't want to have to fight the urge to tell you that we think you made a huge mistake.

On a related note, your children are adorable. They are blessings from God that no one should take advantage of, and kids bring a special kind of joy that nothing else can. They are also not the only children on the planet, nor are they sweet and perfect and wonderful and don't-you-want-to-pinch-their-cheeks?-fantastic every second of every day, so please stop acting like it.

You're not as sneaky as you think you are. It's obvious that you're seeing someone else and trying to hide it, and that makes me feel bad for her because clearly you still care what I think (even though I'm not sure why) and are embarrassed by the whole thing. Actually, I understand the embarrassment because the girl is clearly buying whatever worthless lines you're selling her. Even I fell for some of that and I'm way smarter than her, because she can't even spell "feel" ("feal" really?) and I know because I saw the card that you "accidentally" left on the table. Subtlety is not your strong suit. Also, it would serve you well to tell the truth about not having a baseball game when I can verify it online at the league's website which you keep urging me to "check out" so that I can see your stats for the season. I actually hope that you see this one so you know that someone out there still knows just how full of shit you are.

When you're in a public restroom, for the love of all that's good FLUSH THE TOILET. No one else wants to see what is probably your greatest accomplishment of the day. That's just sick.

The fact that you have a degree in a medical field does not necessarily make you an intelligent person. (This actually applies to all fields.)

You don't live/work completely alone. The things you do or don't do around the house/office affect someone other than you.

We all get it, you're single and enjoying it. I'm glad you're having a good time and all, but sometimes you come off as kind of irresponsible, and other times you just look like a slut. You might want to tone that down before you really do end up alone because you've scared off anyone that might actually be worth spending the rest of your life with.

Small dogs are cute & great & wonderful, sure. Their messes are still disgusting, and just a paper towel isn't going to get all the nasty off of a linoleum floor. Use some sort of cleaner. Bleach is better, but rinse it afterward. Your dogs are nasty, but they're still living things... don't kill them.

If you smoke, you smell like it. No amount of cologne or body spray will cover it, so give us all a break & lighten up, would ya?

Everyone's driving habits change when they use a cell phone in the car. You're no exception. If you must talk, get a hands-free device. If you think you need to text, you don't. It can wait til you get where you're going, or you can call. On your hands-free device.

You're in your twenties. Legally, you're recognized as an adult. Grow up & stop acting like you're still in high school. You call it an "interesting life," but the rest of us just call it "drama."

Well, I feel better! How about you? If there's something that bugs you that I didn't cover, leave it in the comments section and we'll make it a good old-fashioned bitch fest!

7(ish) Quick - Hey, What's That Over There?

Today's update will be very short, as I am pressed for time. I suppose you could consider this a "7 Quick Takes: On-the-Wrong-Day-Since-I-Don't-Follow-Rules Edition."

(PS - I'm also not numbering... since I probably won't do 7, & I don't follow rules.)

Friday night, I went to Cocina Superior for margaritas (oh, & dinner), then out to a local bar to hear my friend Scott's band play. There is much to be said about this night, but all you really need to know is that Tami ended up stealing the cowbell from the stage so that we could surprise everyone by playing it from the dance floor. Also, the band is super fun. Good times, indeed.

The Hangover is a friggin hilarious movie, mostly because it totally sounds like something that most of my guy friends could potentially go through. This scares me a little. (You know, for them.) At any rate, I highly recommend it if you're in the mood for a good laugh.

I am considering myself The Official Lucky Charm for the Atlanta Braves. They've been sucking it up not playing so well lately, but they managed to pull out a win yesterday while I was there. If that's not enough proof for you, I've been to 3 games this season - all wins. In two of those games Chipper Jones (happy sigh) has hit at least one home run. I rest my case.

Saturday morning, I got to spend some time with Layla. It was as fun & as heartbreaking as you probably think it was. I really miss that dog & have to find a way to get her living with me again.

The dryer started having issues this weekend. It's still blowing hot air (this makes me think it's male), but it's not spinning. Do any of you out there know anything about how dryers work? Hunter's girlfriend's dad (I think) was supposed to look at it today, but as I'm not home yet, I have no idea what (if anything) has been discovered. Some folks I've talked to think that it may be the motor, but I'm really hoping that's not it since that sounds like a pretty expensive problem to have. Any help is appreciated!

I am completely & totally addicted to Dunkin Donuts' Hazelnut coffee. I'm talking drink-it-every-day-or-go-into-shaky-withdrawals addicted. All of you coffee drinkers that haven't tried it yet, get yourself to the closest grocery store & pick some up. Delicious!

ADD sucks.

Today marks the one-month-til-my-birthday, freak-out-because-I-haven't-the-slightest-clue-what-I-want-to-do portion of the year. Panic mode: activated.

I'm still alive!

It has recently come to my attention through the harrassment nagging comments of some friends that my blog has been neglected for far too long. Granted, almost a month is FOR-EV-ER (Sandlot style) in bloggy world, & I promised to keep you updated back on May 29th, but that is neither here nor there for the purposes of my argument. I moved, as I was telling you about, & my new place has no access to The Internets. Therefore, I can only update from work or my iPhone. The latter doesn't lend itself well to blogging (although 3G access has saved my sanity in regards to Facebooking & Twittering, PTL), & the former... well, I'm doing it now. Get off my back, you monkeys!

Honestly, so much has happened that I'm not sure where to start, & my ADD is hitting me so very hard right now that I almost can't see straight. (Unmedicated Lydia... weeeee!)

Moving out of The Ex's apartment was actually a sad experience. I was not happy to pack up everything I own & move it out of an apartment that I actually love (present occupant excluded) & into a PLACE WITH NO INTERNETS. & two small dogs (puppies, actually) who are so constantly in my face that I might sneeze dog hair one day. & ONE full bathroom with a shower (upstairs, the downstairs has a half bath that Hunter uses most of the time) that I share with a dirty, smelly boy. & a neighbor who is an honest-to-God stripper. (You just can't make this stuff up, people. Reality is way better than fiction, no?) It's definitely different than what I'm used to, but I enjoy living with people (I say this b/c Hunter's girlfriend comes over a lot, which I don't mind b/c I heart her face) who can & will carry on an actual two-way conversation. Bonus, it's WAY closer to work for me.

Unfortunately, Layla was unable to make the move with me. Given that the place isn't very big & she would be housed with two puppies, & the only other alternative was to ask my parents to keep her at their house (in a different city! no way, Jose), Layla still lives at The Apartment I Loved. I miss my Layla very much, but I get to go by & see her every now & then. The only downside to this is that I occasionally also have to see The Ex. Minus a few awkward "I miss you" moments (Guess who said that? Hint: not me.) & his attempts at trying to make me jealous by dropping hints that other girls had been there, it hasn't been so bad so far. I'm actually going to see Layla today after work, although I can't stay long because The Ex is having some of the boys come over to play poker. (On what table, I wonder? I took the only table in the place. I digress.)

In other news, I've been keeping myself busy (obviously, due to lack of blogging) & having tons of fun adjusting to my new life. For example, a few weeks ago I went for a weekend trip with "the boys" to Elk River in the bustling metropolis of Athens, Alabama. There was much drinking (Jager bombs! Tequila & OJ with breakfast... and lunch, and on the water...) and fun to be had. In fact, I discovered a new water-activity-safe place for storing my bottle o' alcohol. See?

(Please ignore the tan lines.) (If you can't ignore them, you should know that they're from an Atlanta Braves baseball game to which I wore shorts - duh - & sat in the outfield.) (Also, bite me, because I was on TV during that game.)

See that raft I'm standing beside? It's a giant party island, complete with a hole in the center that's the same size as the floating cooler. FANTASTIC for floating on the water with your beverage of choice. I highly recommend it.

There's so much more I could tell you, but Bane Of My Work Existence is yapping her head off & that makes it super duper hard for Unmedicated Lydia to focus on bloggy-type things. Another time, my lovelies.

Boxes, Tacos, and Rum

I promised Amanda (TheMomJob) a blog last night, but I never got to it... so here it is. Admittedly, it has been too long since my last post. I'll try to make it worth it, but I can't make any promises because - well, I read over the draft that I saved last night, & it's just not pretty. See, I had a master plan to drink & pack all night, but I got interrupted.

That's right, kids, I'm moving.

I hate that I won't be able to give you more stories on Living With The Ex. However, I do *NOT* hate that I will no longer be Living With The Ex. The past month & a half had actually not been all that unpleasant, given that one of us could've killed the other (& one of us might have maybe considered it - just a little). There were rollercoaster moments, sure. Ever the optimist, I tried to make the best of it. Until....

The past few weeks have been getting worse & worse, but this week was nothing short of hellacious. Seriously - Week. From. Hell. It all came to a head on Wednesday when Jackass picked up my phone & went through my texts while I was in the shower. I know what you're thinking. Clearly, I asked for him to snoop by leaving my phone in a common area, no? He discovered some things that made him rather, ah, unhappy. I'll spare you the gorier details (& some of the good ones too, but I can't give away EVERYTHING just yet), but know this: No day is a good day when you're yelled at, called a lying whore, & told that you have a week to move everything you own - all before 9 AM. It's especially bad when you then hear from your boss that your First Choice Escape Plan isn't going to happen. If there was any night I should've been drinking, it was Wednesday. Instead...

Back to the drawing board.

Since then, I've formulated a plan that is already set in motion. My friend/hairdresser Hunter is The Best Ever, & his girlfriend is pretty awesome too - you know, since there's a chick that she doesn't know all that well that's OH BY THE WAY moving in with her boyfriend. It helps that I might just curl up & DIE laughing if anyone suggested there was anything between Hunter & me. So... in a few days I'll have a new awesome roommate. Who can make my hair look prettyful - every day, if I can talk him into it. (Side note: I canNOT do this. My hair does less than nothing on its own.) Who also has an equally awesome girlfriend that can do the same thing. And they both have a killer sense of humor. Needless to say, I'm excited! Oh, & I got to call The Ex a prude in another big blowout fight, which was pretty fun. Any time you get the chance to call someone a prude, do it. Tell me it's not fun, & you're lying.

So there I was last night, eating Taco Bell & drinking 32 ounces of happiness - Captain Morgan Private Stock & Diet Pepsi. I was well on my way to drunk, & quite happy about it. Cleaning off the bookshelf & shoving books into boxes. Discovering Chihuahua pee that ruined 6 of my hardbacks (to be replaced by The Ex - or else). Gleefully preparing for the fun times ahead with my roommate plus one.

And then Jackass walked in the door.

SIGH.

More drinking & packing fun to follow today/tonight - I'll let you know how it goes.

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right...

**Updated with dog pictures. :)

... here you are, stuck in the middle with me.

So I changed the lyrics a bit. Problem? Good. I thought not. Let's get started, shall we?

Clearly, I'm new to the blogosphere. I was drawn here by the hilarity that is TheMomJob, courtesy of my friend Amanda. That, & the fact that I can pretty much say whatever I want - & you as readers have to listen to me. (At least pretend to, & make us both happy, k?) I've been toying with this idea for a while, but I could never find a name for what I wanted to say... or at least one that wasn't taken. I'm still not quite sure that this name works, but then again I'm highly indecisive. I also tend to ramble a lot thanks to the fact that I have ADD, so I'll cut to the chase & give you the rundown on why I decided to suck it up & start blogging.

I live in Birmingham, Alabama, but my parents live in another city - that is, if you want to call the bustling metropolis of Gadsden, Alabama a city. Some of the best friends I have also live in other cities, or at least spend a good chunk of their time working out of town. Add to that these facts:

1. I have been living with an ex-boyfriend for a little over a month.
2. One of my co-workers is the absolute bane of my existance.
3. I grew up an only child who actually wasn't that spoiled, but was certainly accused of being such.
4. I am a woman, & therefore the occasional Bitch on Wheels.
This also means I like to speak my mind often. Since I've already told you that I spend a good deal of my time in places where I can't do that, this place is going to be my outlet. I'm sure that it will contain lots of The Funny, some of The Sad, occasionally The Pissed Off, but mostly just my life. Raw & in rare form. Live & in color. Insert other cliche phrases here. I hope that you like what you read, but if you don't... Well, it's not exactly your blog, now is it?

Just to reward you for getting this far into my first post, I'll give you a typical story from the last month of my life in the apartment with The Ex. (To forewarn you, he may also be referred to as Ex Factor, Jackass, or any other name I feel at the moment. I trust that most of you are intelligent beings who will be able to follow along.)

As a little bit of backstory, you should know that I have a 3 & 1/2-year-old beagle named Layla. (Yes, after the Eric Clapton song of the same name. Awesome, I know.) She is quite possibly the sweetest high-energy dog on the face of the planet, as well as the fattest. We're talking 30+ pounds here, people. She very much loves to love on people & will not hesitate to leap straight into your lap as soon as you sit down anywhere. The result is a concentration of all her 30+ pounds on whatever unfortunate part of your body her paws happen to land. Let me tell you right now, that's a lot of weight on not a lot of paw. Painful! I digress.

So, I have Layla. The Ex has Charlie, a Chihuahua-Manchester Terrier mix who is old (he's not sure how old, but that's another story) & cranky.
While I am actually quite fond of Charlie, he has a tendency to be what I call A Little S***, & it took a while for he & Layla to actually get along. Now that he is used to her, it seems that he's grown quite fond of having her around. Layla, social creature that she is, also seems to love Charlie and - for some reason unbeknownst to me - The Ex. Now you have the backstory, & again, I digress.

Scene: The Laundry Room/Kitchen, a random weeknight about 2 or 3 weeks ago. I was in the laundry room, folding/hanging up clothes. The Ex was leaning against the bar in the kitchen, talking to me & thinking I was listening. Silly man. Part of his rambling catches my attention, & this is what went down:

Ex: "So, whenever you move out, you know I'm gonna have to get a beagle. I'm just gonna miss Layla way too much."

Me: "Eh?" Thinking - "I really couldn't care less."

Ex: "Yeah. & I want you to help me train it."

This is the part where my brain has a serious What. The. F. moment. Keep in mind that a big chunk of the reason that I ended the relationship is the fact that I felt for a long time like The Ex was completely focused on, well, The Ex... & nothing else. We're talking not a single girlfriend-centric thought in that thing he calls a brain. The words that have just escaped his self-absorbed lips are nothing but further proof that my feelings have been Dead On. At this point, I'm seesawing between "Did he actually just say that?"- & "Time to rip him a new selfish ass"- type thoughts. I wanted more than anything to ask what could possibly make him think that I would do ANYTHING for HIM - you know, the person I BROKE UP WITH - when there would be less than nothing in it for me. Thankfully, I managed to mutter something along the lines of "I really don't think that would be a good idea" before retreating to my closet to hang my newly-clean clothes (ahhh, my Happy Place - cleaning/organizing) & simmer in my rage.

Speaking of, guess who just walked in the door & is forcing more self-centered babble into my ears. Time to be really tired & go to bed.