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?

If you laugh at this, your soul might suffer...

The following is a 100% true story:

My Dad works with this lady in Overland Park that takes care of her 20-something, mentally handicapped nephew.  While at work last week she got a call from him that went something like this:

Nephew: Aunt ___ you have to come home, right now!
Aunt: Why? What happened?
Nephew: I caught a troll!
Aunt: What? What are you talking about?
Nephew: I caught a TROLL!

Naturally, the Aunt just assumed that he was playing around or was somewhat confused so she said she'd just see it when she got home after work.  However, the nephew was so insistent that she come home that she decided she better go see what all the fuss was about.  She told her Supervisor something had come up at home and left work early that day.

When she arrived home, there were a few police cars there and she started to get worried.  She spoke to one in the yard and, after confirming who she was to the 20-year old man, the police told her what happened.

Brace yourself...

Apparently, a Census worker was in her neighborhood that day and stopped by her home.  That man just happened to be a little person; a midget.  Her nephew answered the door and was immediately confused.  He thought he was looking at "a troll."  He grabbed the poor guy and locked him in a closet until the police arrived.

People, for the love of all that is holy, fill out your Census.


PS - The police were able to convince the man not to press charges by reminding him that, if he did, he'd be on the news as "the troll who's suing a mentally handicapped man." 

PPS - Just so you know...my soul is toast.

Life IS like a Box of Chocolates...

Well my boss has been gone on Vacay for the past week so I've had some free time on my hands.  To fill this time, I took to reading all my past Facebook messages and my old Blog entries on Xanga.  All of them. I know, I need a life.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that it was a very eye-opening experience and, if you have anything like that (old blog, old letters, old diary, old messages), I recommend taking the time to go through them.  It is amazing how much your life can change in just a few short years.  Things I never would've imagined happening to me have and things I could've sworn would happen, haven't.  Situations that I used to stress over now seem to be so stupid.

But the thing that struck me the most was the relationships I've had over the years.  People I would've sworn would be a part of my life forever have fallen (or been pushed) away.  Most of them were not intentional by any means.  It's perfectly natural to lose touch with someone when you haven't seen them in a few years.  You grow in different ways and don't have the same things in common anymore.  A few months ago, I got to spend some time with some of the girls I used to hang out with in high school.  It was a blast to talk about "back then" but it was also pretty apparent that we had all gone in different directions since, and now had our own, different lives. We had a good time reliving some of the fun and not-so-fun moments we had in high school but, other than the occasional "Happy Birthday" Facebook comment, I haven't spoken to any of them since.  But that's not a bad thing.  Like I said, we've moved on.

However, some of the relationships in our lives fall away because of carelessness.  While reading my old Xanga and all those messages, I realized I had more of those than I originally thought.  And it's kinda put me in a little funk.  I did quite a bit of smiling and LOLing at some of the comments and messages I received from people that used to be my closest friends but, now that I'm done, I'm sort of left with this weird void.  Unfortunately, I don't speak to those people anymore.  And unfortunately, it's not because they've just "fallen away."  Some of them I pushed away for good reason but some for what I only thought was good reason.  Either way, I really miss those friends.  And, if any of you happen to read this, I'm sorry if I hurt you.

Even though I know this post seems a little emo, please believe me when I say that I am not bitter.  Or sad.  I definitely miss those friends, but I also had a surge of joy, especially reading all those old blog posts and seeing how far I've come in the past 5 or so years.  I have the best husband anyone could wish for, a pretty good life and a great future ahead of me.  I really am very blessed.

I will tell you one thing though:  If I'm ever again asked the question, "Where do you see yourself in 5 (or 10) years?"  I'm not going to answer.  :)

Blessings,
Mandy

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.

For Maggie

I was shocked to find out today that people still venture over here in search of some sort of life-affirming post by yours truly. Apparently, these people miss me so much, that they come over just to read my last post, hoping that, in some way, it will still speak to them in the here and now or I will magically show up and give them that hug they so desperately crave.

People, I'm going to say this as gently as I can: You need to know that I will never again be able to satisfy your deepest desires. I am married, for heaven's sake. Do you know what that does to a person? It turns them into the most sinfully boring person alive. There is absolutely NOTHING blog worthy going on in my life right now. Until Austin and I decide to move to Costa Rica, take hip-hop dance classes, jump off a bridge, or, God forbid, get pregnant, I have nothing to tell you. I mean come on, it should be obvious how un-noteworthy my life is by my constant Facebook updating. I'm even following the latest profile pic changing trend! Gross.

So, unless you really want to hear how I colored my hair for the first time ever out of some need for change, leave me be. I happen to enjoy stewing in my own boredom, thank you very much.

In the words of the great Dr. Perry Cox: “I suppose I could riff a list of things that I care as little about as [your need for my blogging]. Lemme see, uhh…. Low-carb diets. Michael Moore. The Republican National Convention. Kabbalah and all Kabbalah-related products. Hi-def TV, the Bush daughters, wireless hot spots, ‘The O.C.’, the U.N., recycling, getting Punk’d, Danny Gans, the Latin Grammys, the real Grammys. Jeff, that Wiggle who sleeps too darn much! The Yankees payroll, all the red states, all the blue states, every hybrid car, every talk show host! Everything on the planet, everything in the solar system, everything everything everything everything everything everything–eve–everything that exists — past, present and future, in all discovered and undiscovered dimensions. Oh! And Hugh Jackman.”

Sincerely,
Mandy

Take A Bow

Brace yourselves folks. Mandy's about to blog about her most embarrassing moment...

Here's a story for you: When I was in high school, my dad, my best friend at the time and I went on a road trip to check out future college prospects. Little did I know that what started out as a fun-filled weekend would turn into a story that would haunt me for ages.

Oklahoma Christian University was having their "High School Preview Weekend" and the campus was overrun by High School students from all over the USA (i.e.; all of Oklahoma, some of Texas and 3 of us from Kansas). I was doubly excited because I knew I'd be seeing some good camp friends, including the love of my life at that time (though he knew nothing of my passion).

The weekend was a blast. I met up with the camp friends, spent some time talking to my not-so-secret crush and met the choir director (of course). Life was good. By this time, I was completely convinced that I'd be attending OCU after graduation. I had not a doubt in my mind that this was the campus for me. Until Saturday dinner in the OCU cafeteria.

My best friend and I had just finished dinner and were heading back to the buffet-style setup in search of dessert. I grabbed a delicious looking brownie and placed it on my small dessert-sized plate. I turned around and became instantly intrigued by a shiny machine on the counter behind me. I thought I was dreaming at first as the words "ICE CREAM" seemed to glow from the silver. Free ice cream?! This is the BEST SCHOOL EVER! What a perfect addition to my small chocolate brownie. Or so I thought...

I approached the ice cream machine, seeming to glide across the cafeteria, completely oblivious to the some 200 people milling around me selecting sandwiches, pizza, cereal, and their own small brownies. I was heading straight towards heaven.

As I reached up to grab the handle of the ice cream machine, my other hand instinctively placed the small plate with the brownie underneath the spout from which I knew the glorious heaven-food would soon be dispensed. Then I pulled the handle towards me.

At first, nothing happened. I was somewhat disappointed and had a brief thought that, perhaps my dream wasn't going to come true. But then I heard the machine begin to growl, as if waking up from a very deep slumber. It growled for about 3 seconds as I waited patiently for a stream of delicious looking vanilla ice cream to flow. And then...

POW!!!!

With a sound equal to that of a shotgun, the machine suddenly sprang to life and spit about a gallon of milk right out of the spout blowing the plate and brownie right out of my hand and completely covering me in milk. I turned around, dripping in sticky, sugary milk and became suddenly aware that the entire place heard the awful gunshot and had stopped their milling around to stare at the vanilla-soaked high schooler in the middle of the cafeteria. The ice cream machine was from the opposite of heaven.

"You trusted me! You fool!"

Now, at this point in my story, you're probably chuckling a little, maybe even lol-ing, if I told it well. And, if I stopped right there, you'd probably go on with your life thinking, "Man, that sucks," maybe make some ice cream related joke in the comments section ("Knock knock - Who's there? - Ice Cream - Ice Cream Who? - Ice Cream of Jeannie!"), and go to Baskin Robbins to fulfill the craving I just gave you. And I could let you do that. And I should let you do that. But instead, I'm going to tell you the worst part of this story:

As if the ice cream machine blowing up on me wasn't enough, there's more. When I tell this story of my most embarrassing moment, people usually chuckle but then fully intend to let it go. I don't usually get made fun of for such a moment because what happened wasn't my fault and really couldn't have been avoided. And if I would just shut up and not share what I did next, I'd probably go down in history as the person with the cutest most embarrassing moment ever and a legitimate reason for a fear of vanilla. But I never do. I just can't leave it at that. I always tell what I did next:

When I turned around to see all those people staring at me, unaware that the machine's handle was still down and ice cream was flowing freely onto the floor behind me, I could think of nothing else to do...but take a bow.

Stand up, you idiot!

Why did I do it? I have no idea. I suppose it was my way of milking the opportunity of 200 people staring at me. I figured they got a good show, I should accept my applause.

There was no applause. Just laughing. Sometimes at night I can still hear the laughing...

"Maybe we could teach you a thing or two."

As I'm sure you can imagine, since this incident, there have been many an occasion where I've done something remotely embarrassing only to be followed by a bow from one or both of my loving little brothers or one of my so-called "friends" that I've chosen to share this story with. It's the bow that haunts me.

If only I had let the story stop at the dripping in vanilla part! Why God why?! Why must I face this humiliation?!

So now I suppose you're thinking, "Well Mandy, if you are so embarrassed by this incident, why do you tell it so publicly on your blog?" Because, my friends, I have found a solution!

Do you have any idea how many famous people bow?! My personal favorite: Conan O'Brien.

And not just for the awesome Mario World-like backdrop.

Haven't you people ever seen Conan give his monologue?! That man puts his hands together and bows after almost every joke! And you love him for it! You LOVE HIM FOR IT!!!

Or what about these divas:

See the titles of those albums?! "TAKE A BOW!!!" To Rihanna and Madonna (whoa, that rhymed), it's not an option, it's a command!! I was simply following direction.

I will never again apologize!

Chocolate Rules,
Mandy

PS - I went to Lubbock Christian instead. NOT because of this incident. *Ahem.*

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...

Not New Shoes...

New Hair!!! Check me out:




Oh yeah, lookin good!

I took that picture in my office. Today is one of the many days that my boss (the only other person in the building) isn't in. I guess when you're that close to retirement, golf is just more important than people's car insurance. I wouldn't know.

Anyway, since I still don't have wedding pics to show, I decided to take a picture of my everyday view for you too. I go home at the end of every day with terrible neck pain because I stare a computer screen all day that's a little high and slightly cock-eyed from the center of my desk. I'd fix that but I'm too lazy I've been so busy.




You can see I have the essentials: Tony Romo bobblehead, currently empty coffee mug (not for long), pic of hubby, post-its, window to outside world. What you can't see is the *broken marijuana tree to the left of my desk:




Somedays, I really wish it worked...

Hope to have those wedding pics for you soon! Patience is annoying a virtue.

Love love love,

Mandy

*Broken = Fake

New Name, New Look, New...Shoes?

Hello my long-lost Blogger friends! I am back in black! And white and red. I figured with the changing of a name comes the changing of a life and, therefore, a blog. I hope you like it.

I leave you with no promises of mutlitple updates per week but, when we have something going on, I'll try and let you know. I plan on posting wedding pics as soon as we have them.

In the meantime, if anyone knows a good school in need of a basketball coach, let us know! Coach Pratt will rock your face right the heck off. (Just because I'm biased doesn't mean it ain't true).

Love, peace and chicken grease.

~Mandy used-to-be-Smith-now-PRATT~

PS - KJ, if you read this: Help me get that stupid search box off my page! (I only have my diploma in HTML.)

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.

Welp, That's the End of That...

The Hilltoppers put up an amazing fight against Gonzaga tonight. But, at the last second, lost it all. Too bad. Really, too bad. They had a fantastic season. I really hope I get to cheer for them next year too (please oh please oh please).

On the good side, that means Austin's returning to KY to pack up and head back home (where he belongs) sometime in the next week or so. Hurray!! Unless of course, they offer him a job (please oh please oh please). Or better yet, a GA position (please oh please oh please).

If they don't and one of you has a father, grandfather, uncle, cousin, former 2nd cousin's roommate who happens to work for a Div. 1 men's bball team and is looking for a high-quality GA, contact me. I'll give you cash. =)

As for the rest of you who don't fit that criteria, what good are you?!?!

Just kidding. You can pray. Please pray. We don't want to be a poor married couple. It's WAY overrated. Thank you.

In other news...

I'm in Lubbock right now. What's that? Oh, I forgot to tell you? Yeah...that's what happened...

We had a family reunion filled with embarrassing stories and lots of "I can't believe how big you are" and "It's about time you're getting married" comments (ironic, I know). It was awesome. Way sad that Granny Moo couldn't be there though.

I also got to spend some (very little) time with some old, good pals. Lubbock is the only place I still have close friends so that's always nice (no matter how mean they are). I even got to do some wedding dress shopping with Heather. Much better than the 6 old women that follow me from shop to shop in KC (no offense Mom).

Other than that, we're returning home tomorrow to resume planning. I also have an interviewed lined up at Commerce Bank on Monday. It's not special or even good by any definition but, when those W&R paychecks stop coming, I'm gonna need more help than a measly Christian bookstore can provide. Have I asked you to pray that Austin get's a good setup? Please continue.

Blessings from the Lone Star State,
Mandy

PS - For your enjoyment, here's part of the embarrassment that came from the reunion:

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!

She's Baaaaack...

For now at least. I make no promises after this post. So you better enjoy it.

Actually, I really am going to try and return to this. I'm sure you've all missed me more than as much as I have missed you. However, know this: Pretty much the only thing I have to report on is

1. Wedding Plans
2. The fact that Austin is far away whilest #1 is occurring
3. The fact that my Mom helping with #1 makes #2 suck even worse
4. I need a job

So, if we're all ok with hearing about these things in every post from here to June 26, let's do it!

Ok, so #1: So far, we have (drumroll please) a venue! It may not seem like much to you simple minded folk but to those of us who have endured the torture of attempting to find a place that's not only beautiful but will also keep you from having to file bankruptcy, this is a HUGE victory! Check it out: The Grand Loft

Please don't freak out that, yes, it is in Osawatomie, KS (where?!). I promise, once you walk into this place, you'll forget.

#2: Austin is still truckin along in his internship at WKU. So far, no job prospect has reared it's beautiful head. Booo. But, right now he's livin it up conference style in Memphis. In case you haven't heard, the Hilltoppers are kickin some major Sunbelt rear end. Go Tops!

Needless to say, he's missing out on all the planning. Lucky? Maybe. But he DID get to plan our honeymoon. Wanna guess where we're going?! Here's a hint: It's NOT cold there!

#3: My mother and I have NEVER agreed on anything in my entire life. So, if you think my wedding is going to be any different...stop sniffing glue. But, we're making it. And, because it's her tax refund that's paying for this wedding (the same tax refund that was supposed to pay for her anniversary trip to Hawaii), I'm allowing a few things to slide in her favor. I am, however, drawing the line on wearing her wedding dress from 1979. For 1, I don't wear a size 2. And for 2, the veil makes me look like the Virgin Mary and, well...we won't go there.

#4: Ok, for the first time ever, I'm going on record with this: I admit it. Leaving W&R may not have been the wisest decision I've ever made. Although planning a wedding has been much easier with only a part-time job to get in my way, I get my last W&R paycheck at the end of the month and I have no new job lined up. (Yikes!) So...if any of you need a personal assistant, hit me up! I'm super excellent, I promise.*

110 Days!!!
-Mandy-


*You can't afford me and NO I will not do that.

The Princess has Finally Chosen a Suitor

I went to visit Austin in Bowling Green on January 29. When I got there, I picked him up at the school after work and, ignoring his requests to shower and change first, took him straight to BWW for some dinner.

After dinner, we went to his studio apartment so he could change and stop complaining. =) When we got there, I laid down on the bed and he went into the kitchen. The following ensued:

Me: What was that noise?
Austin: I think your phone vibrated. You got a text.
Me: Oh ok.
Austin: ...are you going to see who it's from?
Me: Eh. Maybe later.

After a few minutes, Austin hadn't come out of the kitchen so I jumped up to check out the text. It was from Facebook, letting me know that Austin had updated his status (because I Facebook stalk him even when I'm not on Facebook).

The text said: 'Austin Pratt has updated his status to 'Austin hopes she says yes.'

I turned to ask what it meant and found him on his knee with this:

We met on MySpace and got engaged on Facebook. Technology rocks!!

PS - Now everyone leave me alone! =)

Still Awake At 3am = Post No Different From All My Other Posts

I got a new laptop for Christmas from my Mommy. Not because my last one needed to lean against the wall just to stay open because I picked it up by the screen one too many times in the past 10 years of our relationship. Not because it needed to be turned on at 3am if I wanted to check my email on my lunch break. And not because she loves me.

I got a new laptop for Christmas from my Mommy...so I could apply for unemployment. And I have want too will. I'm just trying to figure out why they would allow me to collect unemployment insurance if I'm still collecting salary from W&R and working extra part-time at LW.

State government. That's how. I love Kansas.

No I don't.

I wanna move to Kentucky. Or Tennessee. Or Japan.

Except not Japan. I don't speak Chinese.

UPDATED: I'm Sorry KJ

*Disclaimer: The following is full and complete Mandy sarcasm. Kevin knows I love him.

KJ was the first person to make a comment about my 13 day blog absence. This tells me one thing: He's the only one who cares. He very rudely meanly nicely stated: "New blog plz. I need to know what's going on in your life without asking you directly."

And so, my dear friend, this post is for you:

Dear KJ,

I am so sorry I've been gone. Even though I know all to well that you need my words of wisdom and hilarity for your simple, meaningless life to mean something, I chose to remove myself from your reading pleasure. I'm sorry. Perhaps some explanation and begging of your forgiveness will suffice? Please note: These are not excuses. I simply feel that you deserve an explanation for my absence.

First of all, I am so sorry that today is my last day at Waddell & Reed. Between packing up my desk, training my replacement and saying teary goodbyes to the best bosses and coworkers I've ever had, I should've taken into account your starvation for my wit. What was I thinking? Can you ever forgive me? I'm so sorry.

Next, I must also apologize for the season. How dare I place Christmas shopping for my family and another family above your need for my words? That was just so rude of me. Next year, they will all get e-cards so that I don't have to leave my keyboard for even one second. Because you are that important to me. I'm sorry I didn't show that this year. Candy cane?

And finally, my biggest apology: I'm so so SO incredibly sorry, KJ, that my grandmother passed away only a few hours after I wrote that last post. I'm sorry that she was my favorite and I hers. I'm sorry that we had to wait until my uncle got back from China a full week later before we could have the funeral. I'm sorry I drove 11 hours through the night after working a full day so I could be in Lubbock for the funeral only to turn around and come right back less than 24 hours later because I could not take any more time off from my two jobs. It was rude of me to not find a short balance between the emotional and physical exhaustion and stress to sit down and write something that would make you and my other readers laugh hysterically. And it was even more rude of me to not feel like laughing. Perhaps I'm sick. Either way, I'm sorry.

Again, I do not offer these explanations in an attempt to gain your sympathy. I do not deserve that. I simply hope these explanations of my absence help to extract your forgiveness my friend. My hope, prayer and Christmas wish is that, one day, you'll find it in your heart to forgive me for the depression you must have faced over these last two weeks. I'm so sorry.

Sincerely,

Mandy

But How Did He Know?!

My bosses boss just came over to my desk and said to my boss: "Amanda was prairie doggin it." Apparently, he saw me pop my head up over my cubicle to see if anyone was coming and decided to tell my boss about it. Unfortunately, his choice of words means something totally different to those of us who've seen Rat Race.

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.