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."

Well, last week was quite the week around here, meteorologically speaking.  There was an earthquake AND a hurricane here in the northeast, in case there is anyone left out there unaware of our major weather events, in which case they must live under a rock or perhaps just the central/western parts of the country.

Luckily things didn’t get as bad as the meteorologists thought/hoped they might, and honestly it was kind of nice to just spend most of the weekend at home.  I only left the house three times, and that was to go to church and Sonic.  The math whizzes out there will realize that means I went to one of those places twice.  

It was not church.

Although we went to church on Saturday evening when the storm was picking up, so I’m really hoping that means we scored some heavenly bonus points.  And the priest started things off by saying how the Lord SHOWERS his blessings upon us, and I do enjoy weather related humor.

The local news stations were SO EXCITED about Hurricane Irene.  Their meteorological enthusiasm apparently warranted CONSTANT NEWS COVERAGE starting at 5 a.m. on Saturday, which I thought it was a bit unnecessary because it didn’t even starting raining until about 12 hours later.  That left them with a lot of air time to fill and I’m sad to say that things hit an all time low around 2 in the afternoon when the anchors on the local NBC station WENT THROUGH THE CONTENTS OF THEIR LUNCH BOXES ON AIR.  I am not kidding.

 At that point Emily decided to do something productive with her time and started crocheting, while I laid around on the couch in my pajamas and tried change lyrics to songs to fit the current weather conditions.  My best was changing Cascada’s “Evacuate the Dance Floor” to “Evacuate the Seashore.”  What can I say?  Hurricanes bring out my lyrical brilliance.

Emily rediscovered her crocheting supplies earlier in the afternoon while were taking everything off of the basement floor in case it flooded when the storm hit.  She taught herself to crochet a few years ago and has gotten pretty good at it, and even started making little gifts for others.  And by “others” I mean my mom, my grandmother, my aunts, several of her friends, her teachers, and her hairdresser's neighbor's cousin.  

Do you know who is missing from that list?  ME!

Over the course of Emily’s crocheting career, I have ordered about sixty seven items.  I've picked out scarf colors.  I’ve let her measure my ipod and various cell phones under the guise of a promised case.  I've gotten my hopes up time and time again, only to have them dashed.  For several years now my cell phone has been case-less and my neck has suffered through some very cold, scarf-less winters.

However, a little bit of guilt and a whole lot of boredom finally wore Emily down this weekend.  On Saturday night she came in my room to sleep on my floor (partially to up the HURRICANE RELATED DRAMA and also because she currently thinks I'm the greatest person ever.  Seriously.) and brought her crocheting with her.  She worked away while I read before bed.

 

I was lying there minding my own business when she THREW something at me.  Just chucked it right on over.  Under normal circumstances I would have reacted to an incoming projectile in a loud/probably immature manner, but not this time because IT WAS A CELL PHONE CASE.  MIRACLES DO HAPPEN.

As if that wasn't enough, the next day I was sitting on the couch and she came in and handed me something.

ANOTHER CELL PHONE CASE.

And here they are...

As you can see Emily is liberal with the whole concept of "measuring."   However, if my cell phone is every having a day where she is feeling tall and skinny, she will have an appropriate case.

So, all it took was an earthquake and a hurricane for Emily to make me a cell phone case.

Maybe someday if we have a volcano I'll finally get my scarf.

i think the national weather service suggests this

You know what they say...if a hurricane is headed straight for your area and you're facing the possibility of being stuck inside for several days, make sure you stock up on...

bananas?

I hope everyone stays safe this weekend.

on a walk

we are far more alike than she would care to admit

The other night I completed my final homework assignment.  Ever.  Or at least, until I go to law school.

 JUST KIDDING about the law school thing.  

The assignment was for my trusts and estates class, and it was to draft my will.  As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t have much in the way of assets, so it took no time at all for me to complete the assignment.  My beneficiaries will be so lucky!  When I die they will be handed enough money to go out to lunch!  And perhaps even order dessert!

After I was finished with my will, I decided to paint my nails, because earlier this week I had a regrettable run in with a bottle of turquoise nail polish and it was high time for the situation to be resolved.  I’ve been searching for a lovely shade of turquoise to take me through these final weeks of summer, and last week I thought I had met my match in the $1.00 nail polish section of Bed Bath and Beyond.  I rushed home with my new nail polish and some high expectations, and got to work right away.  

It looked awful.  Just plain UGLY.  Instead of the beachy, summery look that I was going for, I ended up looking like I either had some sort of unfortunate nail disease or incredibly poor circulation.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, I made a critical mistake during the application process.  As soon as I realized things were heading south, I decided to apply several coats in a futile effort to improve the color, which is how I ended up with TURQUOISE STAINED NAILS.  I am now sporting a lovely shade of gunmetal gray because that is the only color I had in my extensive nail polish collection dark enough to cover the remains of Turquoise Mistake of 2011.  

If anyone has some suggestions for turquoise nail polish that is in my price range, meaning three dollars or less, I’m all ears.    

While I was doing my nails, Emily was lured by the unmistakable smell of acetone and came in to join me.  Apparently I still had death/dying/last wills on my mind because before I knew what I was saying I suggested that we play a little game called “Seven words you want on your gravestone.”

WHAT?

Just call me if you need a cheerful, uplifting game suggestion!

 After intense deliberation, we decided that my seven words should be “She liked to laugh.  And eat alot.”  Emily’s would read, “She was quirky, and also very emotional.”

 I don’t know that two people have ever been summed up so accurately.

Once our nails were finished I went into my room to read a little bit before bed.  A few minutes later I heard a knock, and Emily popped her head in.

 “Hey Laura,” she said, “Am I allowed to please add two more words to my gravestone saying?”

 Was she allowed?  AS IF I AM THE BOSS OF HER HYPOTHETICAL EPITAPH.

However, I take my chances at authority where I can get them, so I gave her permission. As soon as I said yes she breathed a HUGE sigh of relief and said, “OH GOOD, because I REALLY want to make sure I add that I’m pretty.”

The good news is, we won’t need to find room for the word “humble.”

23 is off to a fantastic start

Do you know what's better than getting one Kate Middleton ring for your 23rd birthday?

Getting two.

 

what's been going on

I took this picture of the hydrangeas in our front yard yesterday.  It POURED a few days this week, but this is a happy little side effect of all the rain.  :-)

 

We did have a break from the rain on Saturday though, and that was perfect because I was going tubing down the Delaware River, which is one of my top five favorite summer activities.  Actually, I don't have an official top five favorite summer activities list, but if I did, this would totally be on it.  There is a place along the river where you rent a tube, and ride a school bus several miles up the river and get dropped off.  Then you float back down!  

Matt and I went with a bunch of friends and once we arrived we had a blast. The key words are "once we arrived," because the day started off slowly due to some construction and a very tricky detour.  It seems no event in my life is free from driving related troubles.  The directions for the detour said to cross over the (teeny, tiny) bridge into New Jersey, then turn left and cross the next bridge back into Pennsylvania.  The directions failed to mention that the next bridge was about TWENTY SEVEN MILES AWAY.

There were three boys, three GPS systems, and three VERY STRONG OPINIONS, which resulted in us crossing that little bridge between New Jersey and Pennsylvania a grand total of four times.  After the third time I wanted to just get out of the car and swim across, sort of like when George Washington and his troops crossed the Delaware, except far less dramatic and not nearly as important to the future of our nation.

After our day on the river we went to Red Robin for dinner, where I was introduced to the concept of endless fries.  Brilliant.  And THEN, because we were on a serious mission to cram as much fun as possible into one day, we went bowling.  Which I was thrilled about because I've just been dying for an opportunity to showcase my less than mediocre bowling skillz.

Yesterday was my second to last day of class, and also happened to be my second to last day of being 22!  I actually thought last week was my final week of class, until I realized I had been a bit too enthusiastic in the calendar department and still had a week to go.  However, the rush hour commute last night was once in a lifetime.  I don't know where my fellow motorists were, but it wasn't westbound on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, that's for sure.  

At one point I went several miles without seeing another car, until a bright blue Mustang, who must have been boycotting speed limits and blinkers, came flying up the left lane.  You know how those wild Mustang drivers are.

Oh, I kid because my mother is also a member of the 'Stang Gang.  Actually I'm not totally sure what comes along with being a member of the 'Stang Gang, and if it's any true gang related activity I can assure you she's not involved in that.  She just drives a sweet Mustang around whilst FOLLOWING ALL THE RULES OF THE ROAD AND NEVER, EVER BREAKING THE LAW.

In addition to a light traffic night, I heard Party Rock Anthem on an unprecedented THREE RADIO STATIONS AT ONCE.  And then I heard Bottoms Up, and we all know there's nothing I enjoy more than a musical collaboration between Trey Songz and Nicki Minaj. 

I am actually quite fond of Nicki Minaj's song Super Bass.  The other afternoon Emily met her friends at the bookstore cafe to work on their summer math assignments, because they are sophisticated yet slightly nerdy.  I picked her up when she was finished, and when I arrived I texted her and said, "Hey Em, I'm in the parking lot.  Follow the sounds of Nicki Minaj."

When she got to the car she looked at me with a priceless look of an amusement and disgust and said, "Oh.  You weren't kidding." 

She does not like Super Bass.

Tonight was my very last day of class, and, of course, my very last day of being 22.  I have high hopes for the next year, but 23 seems like a much more mature age than 22.  When you're 22, I feel like you're still sort of a kid.  But 23?  Well to me that just screams maturity and adulthood and HEY LAURA, IT'S TIME TO GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER.

My dad just nodded in agreement as he read that last sentence.

Anyway, that's what's been going on around here.  Getting lost, eating french fries, enjoying summertime things.    

Happy Thursday!