matt has started calling me leadfoot laura

 A lot has been going on in my little world lately.  Things have been happening.  Important things.  Life-changing, in fact.

The number one thing is that I received something on September 17, 2011, and I will never be the same.

 

  I was goin' fifty five in a fifty fo'.

 Actually, I was going 44 in a 35, which, in my opinion, should not be considered speeding.  I think "speeding" is a little bit harsh, and would like to propose a term I feel is more appropriate.  "Hurrying."  Perhaps tomorrow I will write a letter to my new friends, the New Jersey police, and suggest that.

Although, I wasn't intentionally hurrying when this ALLEGED incident took place.  I don't know how that lead found it's way to my foot, but I sure was sorry that it did when I saw those red and blue lights in my rear view mirror.  I don't know that I've ever been so scared.

Ironically, just days after my rendezvous with the law, I started working as a member of the legal profession.  This past Thursday was my first official day, and I left the house bright and early to ensure plenty of time for my commute. 

Because if there's one thing you don't want to get on your way to your job as a PARALEGAL, it's a speeding hurrying ticket.

how appropriate

I had to stay in a hotel the other night.  

(All by myself.  For the first time ever. I am so grown up.)

As I was walking down the hallway to my room, I noticed that there were pictures next to every room number. Some were beautiful flowers, others were scenic views, or landmarks from around the area.

Guess what the picture was outside my room.

This giant piece of pie.

It's like they chose that room just for me.

the great key ring debate

Shortly after Matt and I started dating, I learned that we have different views about key rings, and what exactly should go on them.

When I look at my key ring, I see ACCESSORIZING OPPURTUNITY, AHOY!  When Matt looks at his, he sees a tool. For the longest time, the only things on Matt’s key ring were his car key, house key, and an itsy bitsy little blue flashlight.  I will admit that I didn’t give the flashlight enough credit originally, because I thought WHEN IN THE WORLD would an on-the-go situation arise that would require the use of a tiny light?

I’ll tell you when.  ALL THE TIME.  That flashlight came in handy more times than I can even begin to count.  Tragically, it burned its last light a few months ago, and as a result my world has been a little bit darker.

Now when Matt and I go to the movies and decide we want some candy after the theater lights are already off, we can’t inconspicuously turn on the tiny flashlight to see which bag is the M&Ms and which bag is the Skittles.  We just have to rip the bags open and taste the contents to determine which is which.  In reality, I guess that’s not a bad problem to have.  And also, we hardly ever go to the movies anymore because tickets are thirteen dollars and fifty cents, or as I like to call it, HIGHWAY ROBBERY.  

My keychain, on the other hand, has a lot going on.

 

 The necessities are obviously my car key and the accompanying remote.  They dangle from a blue and white Penn State lanyard, because if there is an opportunity to publicize the fact that I love the Nittany Lions, I pretty much sieze it.

Which is why I have a window sticker AND a license plate frame on my car.

Proud to be a Nittany Lion!

(Except when we play the number 3 team in college football during the second week of the season and switch quarterbacks several times!  Or forget to throw the football to the guys in blue!  Or show a general lack of energy and determination!  Then it’s a little bit frustrating! LET’S GET IT TOGETHER BOYS!)

In addition to my keys and lanyard, I also have a cute little keychain that says, “Wherever you go, go with all your heart.”  I thought it was appropriate to put it on my keys, because whenever I have them with me, I am obviously going somewhere.  Granted, my destination is most frequently Wal Mart, but I would hate to go there with anything less than a WHOLEHEARTED ATTITUDE.  I also have store cards for Sephora, the grocery store, and Michael’s Arts and Crafts.

If someone were to pick up my keys and perform a quick character evaluation, they would most likely conclude that the keys belong to a Penn Stater who likes lip gloss, food, and the occasional craft project.  Which would be SPOT ON.

Now, if that same person were to pick up Matt’s keys, they would conclude that those keys belonged to someone who is ALL BUSINESS.

Since the night the lights went out in Georgia on Matt's keychain, it's been looking a little bit sad.  That is, until one night a few weeks ago.  Matt came to pick me up, and as he put his keys in the ignition, something caught my eye.  It was something small with a touch of orange.  A never before seen key related accessory.  A KEY RING INTERLOPER.

I studied it as we drove along, trying to determine what earned a coveted spot on the keychain.  It didn’t look like a flashlight.  It wasn’t a store card and it most certainly wasn’t something made out of metal and some cheerful colored beads reminding him “Wherever you go, go with all your heart.”

As we arrived at our destination and Matt took the keys out of the ignition, I asked him about the new member of his keychain.  Well, his eyes LIT UP with excitement and he said, “I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO TELL YOU ABOUT THIS!!”

You will never guess what it was.

 

 

 A convenient on the go dental pick. 

First of all, am I the only one who foresees some serious logistical and/or germ related issues that might come along with trying to maneuver that thing in between your teeth while your keys/assorted paraphernalia dangle from the side? 

Also, I get nervous when I see this particular item at my bi-annual dental appointments.  The last thing I want to do is use it in the six months between visits.  

In the car.

However, I do have to admire Matt for being so willing to go to such great lengths in the name of good dental hygiene.  

And also for not straying from his strict key ring criteria of TOOLS ONLY.

Even if I do think some bedazzling could jazz up that travel pick.  :)

i will certainly accept the traditional one year gift of paper

Well, well, well.  Looks like it’s been one whole year since I started this blog.  When I sat down to write the “About Me” section 365 days ago, I wrote a sentence that said, “I graduated from Penn State University in May with an English degree, and now I work in an office and go to school at night for my paralegal certificate, because I will eventually have to earn a living.”  

I don’t talk about my job on here, because I believe in the separation of work and blog.  However, one year later I can change that sentence to “I finished the paralegal program in August, and last week I GOT A JOB AS A PARALEGAL.”

  

I know.  I’m growing up.  Also, there are two people reading this (holla Mom and Dad) that are probably very anxious for the next sentence to change.  You know, the one that says, “I still live at home with my parents.” 

Lucky for them I am still hanging around the homestead, providing them with a frequent covers of eighties songs and also delicious culinary masterpieces.  Well, maybe not so much the culinary masterpiece part. 

Lest you think that a new job is the only big change in my life, I assure you that it is not. There has been some major hair transition as well.  Specifically, my part and the area of my head in which it resides.  I have always parted my hair on the left side of my head. Well, as of last weekend, it’s now on the right.  Although if you are looking at me, it would be your left.  

(One time when I was in college, I had a terrible ear infection.  I called my mom, who was at home, to tell her about it, and she said, “Is it your right ear or your left ear?”  And I said, “Well, it depends on where you’re sitting in the family room.”  AND THAT, LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, WAS THE SEMESTER I CHANGED MY MAJOR FROM NURSING TO LIBERAL ARTS!)

Anyway, last weekend I took a leap of follicular faith and switched my part.  And then I visited no less than ten local retail establishments, as per my Saturday tradition, and I COULD NOT STOP thinking about my part.  I found myself checking out my reflection in not only every mirror I walked by, but also in storefront windows and the refrigerator doors in the frozen food section of Wal Mart.  

Actually that’s not really any different than a normal day, because I am a girl who loves to look at herself in a mirror.  Or any reflective surface really.  (See also: vain).  But last weekend I was focused specifically on my part and how it was behaving.  

 

Here is an example of my new hair/part in action. 

 

 This picture was taken at a sculpture garden in New Jersey that Stacy and I visited this weekend.  The reason we were at the sculpture place is not because we are sophisticated artists, although you might be led to believe that we are by looking at these pictures.

 

 

No, the reason we went was because I couldn’t bring myself to wander aimlessly around Target for the afternoon.  I know.  It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore.  Admission to the sculpture garden was $12, but since it’s a scientific impossibility to walk out of Target without spending at least twenty bucks, I technically saved money.

Perhaps I should look into moonlighting as an economics professor!

As you can see, with the assistance of some strategic bobby pin placement, my part is adjusting quite well to its new location.

So, a lot has changed in the past twelve months.  And I think the next twelve are going to hold even better things for me and my new job.

And of course my hair.

unfortunately, we didn't see any elk

Matt and I left for our camping excursion early last Friday afternoon, right after I stopped at the Clinique counter in Macy’s because my Dramatically Different Moisturizing Gel supply was dangerously low.  And if there’s anything I’d hate to be without for a few days in the woods, it’s a $30 bottle of face lotion.

When Matt and I were trying to decide which park to go to, we looked at a map that breaks the state down into several regions.  We decided on a park in “The Pennsylvania Wilds,” because doesn’t that sound far more exciting than “Philadelphia and Countryside?”  

Plus, I’ve always wondered what exactly is up there in the land between Erie and Scranton.

 I got my answer this weekend.  

NOTHING.

  

I am not kidding when I say that you could go hours, or days, without seeing another human being.  I told Matt I didn't think that I could live all the way out there and he agreed that it would certainly be quite an adjustment from suburbia.  I agree that it would be a BIG TIME adjustment, meaning that I would probably spend the first several months saying, “Target is HOW FAR away?” 

 However.  The scenery?  Breathtaking.  Seriously.  Words don’t do it justice.

Back to the journey.  About three hours in we reached the land that radio forgot, which was sad but also afforded me the opportunity to ask Matt if he had any song requests that he would like for me to perform a cappella.  In a shocking twist of events, he did not.  

I managed to do my fair share of singing this weekend though, despite my lack of instrumental accompaniment.  On Saturday night I even tried to start a rousing campground-wide rendition of Kumbaya, but I’m sad to say it didn’t catch on.  Matt didn’t even join me, although he did whisper-yell “Do you have any idea how far your voice carries in the woods?”  

Also, even though I have the snazzy watch I mentioned in the last post, this weekend I learned that I tend to look at my cell phone when I need to find the time.  Guess what doesn’t exist in the Pennsylvania Wilds. CELL PHONE SERVICE!  So instead of looking at my watch to determine what time it was, I would just sing Chicago’s hit, “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?”

 

If I sang it once, I sang it three hundred times.  I am not exaggerating. 

Upon our arrival on Friday night, we (okay, mostly Matt) set up camp, and then had a delicious dinner of homemade Philly cheese steaks, because you can take the people out of Philly but you can’t take the Philly out of the people.  

Or something.

Then we went to sleep because driving four and a half hours, setting up a campsite, and cooking dinner is exhausting.  At least it looked that way from my position as photographer/encourager/provider of humor.

When I woke up on Saturday I tried to judge what time it was by my level of alertness.  My guess was about eight thirty or nine, but in an effort to be sure, I popped my eyes open, looked over the tent at Matt, and sang “Does anybody really know what time it is?”

(Does anybody, even careeeeeeeeee?)

((ba da da daaaaaaa daaaaaaa))

Well, Matt knew.  It was 6:40.  SIX. FORTY.  I haven’t seen the likes of 6:40 on a Saturday in, I don’t know, EVER.

But there was a day to be seized and some parachuting (for Matt) and hang gliding (for me) to do, so up we got.

  

JUST KIDDING.  I assure you that my feet (and Matt's) stayed planted firmly on the ground the entire day.  No hang gliding for me THANK YOU VERY MUCH.  In fact, hang gliding now holds a place on my list of THINGS I WILL NEVER DO, right next to “eat clams” and “cheer for Ohio State.”

And that is the conclusion of part 1 of our camping trip.  I would like to say that part 2 is right around the corner, but let’s be honest, there’s no guarantee of that since it took me a solid week to get part 1 together. 

However, I can assure you that we had a great time, and are hoping to go again later this fall.  

Preferably to a place with a radio signal.

Happy Weekend!

i certainly made a fashion statement

Matt and I went camping this weekend.  While we were watching a CRAZY lightning storm on Saturday night, he grabbed my camera off of the table and told me to hold my hand next to my head so he could document the watch and earrings that I chose to wear CAMPING.

I call this photo "Fanciest Girl at the Campground."