Justin Bieber

So Austin and I have been married for almost 10 months now (yippee!).  In that time, we've discovered that we pretty much only have one thing in common: Television.  We love our TV shows.  Namely: Scrubs, The Office, Castle, Glee (me), and all things Sports-related (very much him).  We recently decided we better try to substitute the pizza that usually accompanies this joint hobby with more healthy eating habits so we can work on losing the 60-some-odd pounds we've collectively gained in the past 10 months but...that's not what THIS blog is about.  I'm fat and I digress...

Anyway, here's what this blog is really about: Justin Bieber.

If reading that name made you roll your eyes and forced an "oh you've gotta be kidding me" kind of groan from deep down in the recesses of your soul, you're in the right place.  On the other hand, if reading that name made you feel things that should only be felt when you take that first bite of Cheesecake Factory Oreo Cheesecake, LEAVE NOW.  You are not welcome here and may God have mercy on your soul.

So, if you're still reading: Justin Bieber. If you don't know that name yet, just wait 5 seconds. Austin didn't know who he was either when we started watching SNL last Saturday night, but that's only because the kid was born no more than 5 days prior to the taping of that episode.  If you Google Image the name, you're gonna get a kid who looks like he's fresh off the Disney Channel emo farm.  I keep waiting for the tabloids to break the news that Miley Cyrus and Zac Efron had a kid together when they were 6 years old and named him Justin Bieber to keep anyone from finding out. But, oh snap!  Surprise!  The kid's got a voice of pure gold! We did NOT see that coming.

Unfortunately for the tabloids though, no substantial evidence has been released to make a claim like that.  YET.  (You heard it here first, folks.)  Actually, what I find super strange is the fact that this kid was founded by none other than what I like to call the King of hip-hop himself: Usher.  Yeah, that's right, freakin USHER.  I mean, come on! Unfortunately for Austin, I'm not an expert in hip-hop by anyone's definition.  But I do know Usher.  And I had respect for Usher.  No more.

Anyway, one of Usher's posse saw some self-made YouTube videos that Justin posted of him singing songs by JT, Chris Brown and others, including an Usher song or two, and flew the kid out to meet Usher.  Then Usher pretty much signed him immediately and now gets the allowance of every kid in America.  Those who still buy CD's anyway.  And officially made JB (that's Usher's cute little nickname for him) Usher's bank best friend.  Usher even makes an appearance in JB's video for "One Time," basically allowing him to throw a party for a bunch of 12-year olds in his own house and get silly string stains all over his perfect white walls. F that man. F that.

There are plenty more things that bother me about this kid that I'm not going to go into in detail because I should find other productive ways of pretending to work at work.  Bubble Blaster won't play itself you know!  But I will touch on those points: For one, through all of this nonsense, where is the "single mother" that raised him?  And who the heck taught him that sucking in your lip after every line in a song would drive the tweens wild? 

But, when all is said and done, I really only need to say one thing: What the heck are all these people gonna do when this kid finally hits puberty?

Raw Fish

So Austin gets struck every once in awhile with these weird hunger pangs for Sushi.  Weirdo.  I mean, come on.  Besides the fact that the stuff is awful, we pretty much couldn't be farther from any body of water worth eating whatever you catch out of it.  Unless you LIKE Clinton Lake tuna...

Anyway, when he gets these pangs, normally, we visit a Chinese Buffet in Larry that also serves Sushi so we can both satisfy our appetite.  We've been there at least 5 times in the past month. But that's beside the point.  This blog is about me.  Here's the real story:

Every time Austin gets Sushi, I have this weird desire to try it - just in case it wasn't as bad as last time.  It always is but I still always want to try it.  He'll see me eye-balling his plate and say, "Are you surrre?" like I'm some dumb kid who knows it's hot but keeps grabbing the stupid burner anyway.  He's right.  Inevitably, I try it.  And inevitably, I hate it.

Here's the problem: I actually CRAVE the crap.  Have you ever craved something you hate?  What's up with that?  Last week, I even got super sick off the stuff but still...here I sit...craving Sushi.  It's so weird and I hate it.  I have this theory that my body refuses to believe that something so minuscule as raw fish wrapped in rice can master it.  I mean, I love brussel sprouts, spinach, cabbage, liver and onions, and most things that would make others spend their night in the latrine.

"You cannot defeat me!" -My body

The problem with that theory is that I don't have the desire to overcome my hate for the tomato.  Those things can just stay as far away from my mouth as possible, thank you very much.

Austin and Marshall both think I'm some sort of Sushi masochist in desperate need of help.  The non-sexual type. They think I enjoy the fact that my gag reflex is activated every time I put some of that seaweed wrapped nasty in my mouth.  Enjoy the gag reflex?  What am I, a model?

Though that would explain why I dated some of those guys as long as I did...

FML

For those of you who don't know, yours truly is currently employed with American Family Insurance [pause inserted here because I know you're singing the jingle].  I actually work for a District Manager who is over a good chunk of Agents in the KC Area.  So, if you live in KC, have insurance with American Family, and have a complaint about your Agent, you could call me.  And I'll tell you to call State Farm.

There's actually a whole lot of fun going on here at American Family...for everyone else.  I recently scheduled a week long trip to Cancun for my boss and 6 of our Agents, along with the District Manager, District Manager Assistant and 5 agents all from another District.  Now, maybe you caught that and maybe you didn't.  That's right, I said District Manager Assistant from another District. "But wait. Aren't you a District Manager Assistant, Mandy."

Yes. Yes I am.

For some reason, I didn't get to go on this week long, paid vacation to Cancun.  Why?  I've narrowed it down to 4 reasons:

1. My District Manager doesn't like me as much as hers likes her.
2. My District Manager fell asleep in his office the day he was supposed to ask me to come.
3. My District Manager was afraid I would let it slip to his wife just how much he falls asleep in his office.
4. My District Manager found out I spend 85% of my day emailing Marshall about how he's sleeping in his office AGAIN.
5. No one wanted to see my pasty white skin in a 2 piece.

Personally, I bet it was #4.

-Mandy-


PS - Told you my life is boring now.

In Case I Die, I Want You To Know, My Wedding Was Perfect

I've been fighting off a summer cold the last few days so, if this post is a little disjointed, blame it on the high amounts of liquid Zicam WHICH I'd like to point out, is full of crap. I've never used it before but I was intrigued by a slogan on the bottle. (Clearly very different than judging a book by it's cover. This is a medicine bottle, people.)

Anyway, see that blue section with the white letters that read "The Taste You Choose?" As someone who has perfected the gag reflex due to a lifetime of NyQuil intake at the first sign of a throat tickle, I was intrigued. This bottle of Zicam claims that it is "virtually tasteless when added to any beverage."

And now, after 3 doses of the miracle liquid, I'd like to go ahead and call BS on that one.

"I also cure cancer"

So far, it's already ruined OJ, Diet Coke and hot lemon tea for me. If I don't wake up tomorrow it's because I OD'd on the sweet candy goodness of my old friend.

"I'll always take you back."

Anyway, since the Facebook photo uploader isn't working I love my blog readers more than anything in the world, I thought I'd give you guys the very first taste of wedding photos. Lucky? You bet you are!

More to come...

You Be The Judge

The sign above was posted on FailBlog.org recently (hence the big red 'FAIL' in the top right-hand corner). In my opinion, it was posted incorrectly. This is so a WIN, FailBlog!

My Argument:

Point #1: It's not a mistake, you idiots. It's humor. WIN.

Point #2: It's humor...on a Church of Christ sign. We don't usually have a sense of humor! (Or, those of us that do are asked to hide it as much as possible.) True? Yes. WIN.

Point #3: My fiance thinks he came up with the phrase 'Rocket Surgery.' And made my parents laugh with it. And that small display of humor my just be the reason they are paying for this wedding. So...this sign makes my fiance a trendsetter! WIN.

Maybe I'll start WinBlog.org with this picture.

And this one:

UPDATE: I'm too late. There's already a WinBlog.org. And that picture is on page 2. Now I have to submit a picture of myself to FailBlog. Crap.

I'd Kill for Some Chocolate Ice Cream

In case you haven't heard, the Summer of 2009 is being renamed. To "PrattTastic '09!" Learn it, live it.

Alright here's the lowdown:

Wedding Planning
This weeks tackle: Dress.
Max Amount: $2.50
Status: Screwed

Austin Far Away
This Weeks Tackle: Portland, OR
Reason: Dancin with Illinois!
Feelings: COM-A-NU-YEEEAAA-HAAA!!

Mom's Presence in the Planning
I'll sell her to you REAL cheap Amy

Job Search
Freakin boo...

In other news, we got our Engagement Photos back finally. Here's a touch:

Thank you, Sarah Timmons of Spectra Designs in Nashville!

If you want more, all the good ones are on Facebook. Go!

Happy PrattTastic '09 Everyone!

Ok, Fine. I Agree With You, KJ. I'd Be Hot If I Was Someone Else

Apparently, my readers are not ammused by my low-self esteem posts. What's up with that? Friends, this is an attempt to make you all feel better about yourself. My hope is that, if you look in the mirror someday and don't like what you see, perhaps you'll say to yourself, "Well, at least I don't have to go on a face diet." And you don't. You're beautiful.

I, on the other hand, am a whopping 25 points below the average person on the official Asian hotness scale. In America, that means I'm practically a fungus. Amungus. Haha! Ok, I'm done.

But, fear not, loyal reader(s)! There is hope for this unfortunate looking woman child yet. One of my most favoritest friends has made yet another attempt to show me that I have nothing to be concerned about.

KJ has the uncanny ability to see me in the most oddest of places. Namely, on other peoples faces.* Over the years, I've been told by this friend that I look somewhat like the following:

Mary Shannon

What's that? You don't know who Mary Shannon is?! Yeah, me neither.

Apparently she is on the USA show In Plain Sight. She plays the ahem freakin hot witness protection agent assigned to keep all these important people from gettin dead. And she does. So I hear.

Anyway, KJ told me once that this chick reminds him of me. Why? Well, apart from the fact that I never wear brown and it would take one heck of a bra to give me that kind of figure, apparently its a tie between her hair and her amazing ability to make men do anything she says just by pointing a gun at them. Have you ever seen me hold a gun? It's intimidating awesome so cool scary. And I guess that does it for some guys.

Unfortunately, this dream will never come true for KJ because I don't like guns. Unless you're a creeper planning on breaking into my room late at night in which case, I have 7 under my pillow.

Anna Torv

If you're saying to yourself, "Mary Shannon, ha! More like Molly Shannon!" you're right. And it's all downhill from here.

KJ just recently told me that this gorgeous young lady also reminds him of me. Again, citing the hair. (Though I'm pretty sure the last time I saw him my hair was about 6 inches shorter and 3 shades darker.) That's why I like KJ. He remembers the good 'ole days.

Anyway, Anna Torv plays the role of Special Agent Olivia Dunham in the new Fox TV show Fringe. She apparently has Marine Corps, FBI experience and is a little bitter thanks to some unknown betrayal. See a pattern here? KJ has a thing for blondes with guns and a bad attitude. But KJ, I only have 1.5 out of 3.

Needed: One freakin hot chick with a gun and vendetta, who secretly just needs to be held by a loving, funny, really cool dude. Redheads need not apply.

Princess Peach

And here's the doozie. But, believe it or not, KJ is not the only person who has referenced Mario's lost love as my lost twin.

Perhaps it's, again, due the the hair (not even close). Perhaps it's the fact that she's a Princess and, in case you didn't know, I am too. Or, perhaps it's due to the fact that scary monster-type creatures like to kidnap her and she's always waiting on some short, chubby plumber and his stupid brother to jump over the fire balls and weird long-necked turtles and stop rescuing wannabes. I'm just sayin.

Oh well. There are worst female gaming characters to be compared too. At least I got the modest, high-necked dress, gloves and dress to the floor chick. He could've said I remind him of Lora Croft and I would've had to have him committed. She's not even blonde.

So, what exactly am I supposed to infer from all of this? All of these beautiful, fictional characters remind KJ of me. And, by his definition, in a good way. This is supposed to make me feel better about my 35% hotness, right? Well KJ, it doesn't. You totally fail. Why? Because I don't carry a gun. And I don't ever want to be in the military. And, other than that one time, I've never thrown a turtle shell at the driver in front of me hoping to knock him off a cliff. I'm just a plain 'ole assistant with fading blonde hair who drives 80 miles an hour on the highway in a black Jeep. Sorry to disapp...wait a sec, that last part is kinda hot.

Note to self: NEVER sell the Jeep. Thanks, Kev!


*Whoa, that rhymed. My bad.

Smiling = Ugly

Text conversation I had with Romeo this morning:

Him: How are you feeling this morning?

Me: Well I was feeling pretty blah but I just read a comment on my blog that made my day.

Him: What was it?

Me: Remember that post about the face analyzer that said I was ugly? The creator commented.

Him: The creator? What did he say?

Me: "I am Rhee SC, BAPA developer. You seems to landmark facial point or fiducials incorrectly. The calculated attractiveness in general, 60-90 for average peoples. You'd better try to analyze your face with more standardized photo and follow guiding description for better define facial landmark. Thanks."

Him: Haha, nice. Why did that make your day?

Me: It gave me something to blog about.

Though, I gotta tell ya, I'm not completely sure what to blog about. Nothing about that comment really makes me look good. I mean, according to him (or her), I'm not the 25 points BELOW the average on the attractiveness scale.

Instead, I'm so freakin dense I can't even figure out simple "put that pointer here and click" instruction. Is that supposed to be better than being ugly? It's not really working out all that well for Jessica Simpson.

And what does "standardized photo" mean exactly?* I thought it just meant "try and keep people out of the picture that are prettier than you."

Sigh.


*UPDATE: I went back and read the instructions a little further on the site (pardon my moment of male-ness) and wouldn't you know it, there's a link for good tips of a "standardized photo." Tip #2: "Your face is relaxed and lips are closed smoothly." So, that explains the lip index issue. Too bad I don't own a single photo of me without either my mouth wide open or flashing those pearly whites. So basically, if I could keep my big mouth shut, I'd be freakin gorgeous.

What If I Didn't Even Have A Blog?

Things That Are Awesome About Today:

• Romeo is coming home
• Trophy Wife gets to go see Brittany somehow. That would be like me getting to make out with Tony Romo. Except the girls probably won't make out. Well...maybe. Cool. You go Brittany.
• I'm turning in my Voluntary Separation Package application
• I get off at noon just 'cause I want to
• I get to cook dinner tonight
  

Things That Are Not Awesome About Today:

• It's 36 degrees outside
• I had to take a cold shower
• I'm probably not going to make out with Tony Romo
• The fact that 90% of my readers won't leave a comment
• This post

I Won't Really Burn Your House Down

John (a coworker): What are you eating?! That smells horrible!

Nicole (my boss): It's pea soup. Nutritious and tastes just like cat vomit. Want some?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I guess no one cares about my injury last week. Or you were just too shocked and appalled by the intensity of it to comment. Or you hate elephants. Rude. If you're going to hate large mammals, you should hate camels. They stink and spit and are uncomfortable at Jewish bar mitzvahs.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Romeo and I visited the great state of Kentucky last weekend (by way of Tennessee). Two states I've never been to before and am looking forward to returning to. The people there are nice and have accents that make me seem smarter than I really am. I like that.

Romeo met his new family (the Western Kentucky University men's basketball coaching staff) and I got to shop a little and enjoy the fantastiosity of not having to work 2 jobs for 4 whole days. Glory was mine.

Due to his amazingness, Romeo and I got prime seats at the game that Saturday where, for the entire first half of the game, I got to stare at this:


Annoying. But, luckily for me, there was a student in the stands who decided that he was the WKU Pep Squad and spent the entire second half utilizing the power he must've received from drinking 28 cans of Red Bull during halftime:

Awesome.

Other than that, Romeo and I relaxed as much as possible. Here are some candid photos of your favorite couple from the game and Date Night in Nashville:

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In other news, my birthday was last weekend. If you forgot to tell me "Happy Birthday," you have exactly 24 hours before I burn your house down.