can't even try to tie this together

Guess what.  I just logged on to facebook and saw that the three singers I follow updated their pages at the exact same time!  What are the chances that Celine Dion, Michael Bolton, and Flo Rida would all have something facebook worthy occurring simulataneously?

Yes, those are the three singers that I follow.  An eclectic group, but I believe each reflects a key part of my personality.

Classy, thoughful, and a little bit gangsta.

And right now my parents are shaking their heads.

Holla.

I actually listened to Celine's greatest hits on Saturday morning while I cleaned (I know) and cooked (I. KNOW.).  

I can't explain what came over me, but before I knew it I had vacuumed, dusted, washed the windowsills and woodwork, organized the kitchen cabinets, made a breakfast casserole AND a loaf of banana bread.  

Just like Martha Stewart.  

Except Martha probably would have dusted with some fancy all-natural wood polish instead of a can of lemon pledge.  

And she definitely would have remembered to grease the pan before she baked the banana bread.  

BUT ROME WASN'T BUILT IN A DAY.

After my day of domesticity I went to the Phillies game with Stacy. 

I didn't even notice the temperature.

It was brisk, really.

 Unfortunately, as soon as we arrived they rolled the tarp over the field/diamond/area of play in preparation for a whopper of a storm headed straight for the stadium.  After the National Anthem all spectators were instructed to TAKE COVER and so take cover we did. 

After about forty five minutes, some incredibly gusty wind, and a light rain shower we were allowed to return to our seats because THE SHOW MUST GO ON, as they say on Broadway and in major league baseball.

I'm sad to report that the Phillies were behind the entire game, and ended up losing 6-3.  Although a fan did run across the field in the eighth inning which added some much appreciated late-game drama.  Fear not, he was apprehended by some speedy Phillies playaz and security personnel and was, I assume, PROSECUTED TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF THE LAW.

Despite the fact that the Phillies lost, I paid more attention during this game than I have during any other in my life.  I actually understood a lot of what was going on, which really made the game more enjoyable.  

I've come a long way from my first baseball game.  It was five years ago, and Matt and I weren't dating yet.  My college roommate was coming to visit for a few days and the three of us decided to go to a Phillies game together.  

After the game started I asked Matt (aka the Phillies' NUMBER ONE FAN) who our batter was.

I didn't know that everyone takes turns batting.

I thought it was a one man job.

I can only imagine what was going through Matt's head when I asked that question, but he patiently explained how the batting order works and that it's not just a job assigned to one player, and I laughed and said "I HAD NO IDEA THAT'S HOW IT WORKED!" 

And that was probably the moment he thought THIS GIRL IS A CATCH.

We've been dating for four years this month, and lucky for me he still thinks the same thing.  

It must be because I'm classy and thoughtful.  And a little bit gangsta.

it's just ashame she doesn't look more relaxed in this picture

some words and some pictures

Well, to say that the last few days have been filled with monumental events would be a drastic overstatement. However, that won't stop me from writing several hundred words about what I've done over the last forty eight hours.

It's what I do.

Let's start with Tuesday.  Old Blue was getting inspected so I borrowed my mom's car and became a temporary member of the 'Stang Gang.

 Let me tell you.  I could get in some CAPITAL T TROUBLE if I drove that Mustang every day, namely the type of trouble that comes from the combination of enthusiastic acceleration and local law enforcement.  As I told my dad when I returned the car, "You don't realize how fast you're actually going until you're going.........."  

"UNTIL YOU'RE GOING FASTER THAN YOU WANT TO TELL YOUR FATHER!"  he said.

He took the words right out of my mouth.

Matt came over that evening so we could attend the local fireworks show.  We had some time to kill between dinner and fireworks, so we went to the food store because Matt wanted to buy plums and also because, HELLO, WILD AND CRAZY!

Here is Matt shopping.  You are probably thinking, "Wow, look at Matt bringing a walking stick along to the food store!  Why didn't anyone tell him he wouldn't actually have to hike along the mountainside and harvest the raspberries himself?"

No, my friends, that's no walking stick.  That's six and a half feet of sugar cane.  Which you can purchase for just 99 cents and so PURCHASE WE DID.

It was so big that we (Matt) had to snap it in half to fit it into the car so it could come home with us.  When we got back to my apartment I started walking towards the front door before I realized that Matt had other plans.  Apparently cutting sugar cane is an outside job, and Matt just so happened to have some sort of knife/blade contraption in his trunk so he started to cut that sugar can right there in the parking lot. 

  

 I believe the words you're looking for are CLASSY and SOPHISTICATED.

Final verdict on the sugar cane is that I wasn't a huge fan.  You can't swallow it, so after you chew it for a little bit and you have to spit the rest out and HOW UNLADYLIKE.

The fireworks were at a park just a few blocks from my apartment, so around 8:45 we walked down to make sure we could get a good spot.  The fireworks were beautiful and definitely the closest that I have ever seen.  We ended up sitting near a police tent and if I had a dollar for every time I heard, "DEBRIS IN THE EYE! DEBRIS IN THE EYE!" over the walkie talkie I would be able to buy a whole forest of sugar cane. Nothing like a little Independence Day medical drama to keep things interesting.

On July 4th I went home and Emily and I went to a new frozen yogurt shop.

 Emily wins for most patriotic outfit.

  Here is the concoction I made for myself.  Vanilla yogurt with chocolate chips, blueberries, pretzels, Reese's, and hot fudge.  

And yes, there is bacon on there as well.  GOD BLESS AMERICA.

After we consumed 3529835779 calories we went for a walk along the creek and took some photos of ourselves.  Never leave home without a packet of tissues and your vanity, that's what I always say.

 

 After our stroll along the creek we came home and watched Enchanted which is one of MY FAVORITE MOVIES, EVER, and then ate paninis and pasta salad for dinner.

It was delicious.

If only there had been some bacon.  And some sugar cane for dessert.

happy 4th

i was going to say something about the sand being grand

When I woke up on Monday morning I had grand plans to come home after work and compose a post about the rest of our trip to the beach with photographs and an accompanying poem.

And then I got to the office and realized that it was the last day of open enrollment and all of my insurance forms were due by 4:30.  I thought about my options all morning and finally sent my dad an email at 1:00 with the subject line "insurance stuff - i am so confused" because OH MY WORD at all of the choices.  He responded with a detailed email about what he recommended and ended it with a paragraph about insurance being one of those tough decisions you just have to make as an adult.  Judging by the fact that I got a serious case of the giggles when I read the section in the brochure about how much you get paid per lost toe, I have my doubts about how well I fit into the adult category.

When I finally settled on what coverage I wanted, I had to complete all sorts of math equations that about sent me over the edge and reminded me why I am a paralegal and not a mathematician. When I came home on Monday night the last thing I wanted to do was compose couplets and rhymes about the beach.  

Tuesday night rolled around and I went to visit my cousin's new kitten and made a trip to Target because I was out of some necessities like trail mix and purple nail polish.

 And Wednesday.  Oh, Wednesday.  It was one of those days when I think SOMETIMES THIS JOB IS REALLY HARD.  And so last night I got a manicure with Michelle and and then caught up on some Lifetime tv. 

Which brings us to today, and I'll be honest, the cute little rhymes that I had in my head on Monday about the beach and the dolphins are history.  And so, here are some rhyme-free photos of our trip to Cape May, New Jersey.  We stayed at the Summer Cottage Inn, and if you're planning a trip, you should stay there.

They serve cheese pudding for breakfast.

I don't think I need to say anything more.

i'm using this post to pretend i'm still at the beach

Last Sunday marked six months of living on my own!  I figured there was no better way to celebrate that milestone than to sleep over at my parents' house!

HEY MOM AND DAD, I'M BAAAACK! 

Oh, I am only semi-serious.  I did sleep at home last Sunday, but it was because I was home to celebrate Father's Day, and was leaving the very next morning for a few days at the beach with my mom and sister. 

For Father's Day we presented my dad with the gift that every father wanted this year, AKA the WILD GAME INNOVATIONS 5 MEGAPIXEL MICRO GAME CAMERA.  

 

Okay, maybe only fathers who have recently constructed a large body of water in their backyard put that on their wish list.

 

Either way, I hope that the camera enables my dad to capture covert night vision photographs of any after dark wildlife visitors to our lake-pond!

On Monday morning my mom, Emily and I got ready to go to the shore.  Emily and I made a last minute trip to Dunkin' Donuts because that is the land where all good road trips begin.  

Since it was a Monday morning I had a feeling that the drive-thru line would be busy, so I told Emily that once we got up to the order screen she would have to think fast.  No flip flopping or thinking about her order for several minutes.  I even gave her a little pep talk as we pulled into the parking lot that featured phrases such as "Speak confidently" and "Trust your decision" which were admittedly a little serious for the situation.  A few minutes into my speech Emily looked over at me and said, "I'll try to hurry. Geez.  I can't help it if I'm just used to the Starbucks menu."

My my my.  

AREN'T WE SOPHISTICATED?

Once we had our Dunkin' Donuts we were on our way, and the drive to the beach was uneventful.  We checked into our bed and breakfast, ate lunch, and hit the beach.  It was overcast and windy but that did not stop us from having a grand old time.  

After some reading and some walking and some OH MY GOODNESS THIS WATER IS SO COLD we sat in our beach chairs and I explained to my mom and Em that I read somewhere that pictures actually turn out best when you are laughing, not simply smiling.  In an effort to prove my point, and also because I love to be photographed, I asked Emily to take a few shots of me laughing.

Listen.  I have no explanation for why I rose my arms like I am directing a choir and posed my face in an expression that suggests I'm experiencing a high level of pain.  Rest assured that I do not actually look like that when I laugh.  

Unfortunately these pictures blow the theory of looking better in a picture when you laugh RIGHT OUT OF THE WATER.

It was my mom's turn next and, ladies and gentleman, we have photographic proof that I get my fake laugh arm raising from my mother.  However, I know better than to post that picture here.

Finally, it was Emily's turn.

 She was not really on board.

When evening rolled around we took a carriage ride through the town.

And after that we ate dinner on the patio of a restaurant where we had a Russian waitress, and I came to a realization.  The accent I have invented, named Scirish (Scottish+Irish), and use when I am trying to make Emily laugh and/or roll her eyes already exists.  

And it's called Russian.

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD.

 And that was Day 1.

haven't seen mail addressed like this in a while

I am 23 years old.  I graduated from college over two years ago and have been living in my own apartment since December.  I have a full time job, and besides the fact that every time I visit my parents I come back home with leftovers, for the most part I support myself.

So imagine my surprise when I checked the mail AT MY OWN APARTMENT this afternoon and saw this.

Mail addressed to my mom and dad.  The back of the flyer congratulated them on being the parents of a brand new college student, so either PNC is a little bit confused, or they know something I don't about my educational status.

Just when I was feeling like a grown up. 

Let's just hope that tomorrow I don't find mail for my parents from my high school principal.