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.