Karaoke, A Soldier Cries and a Marriage Proposal

Yeah. Odd title. I know.

Last night, after all was said and done with the kids, I was sitting on the couch and watching TV and I've had such the month with just emotional everything, I needed to purge. I knew it was Karaoke night at Spurs, and normally once I'm already settled in on the couch, I don't want to go anywhere. I just felt a pull to get out and go sing.

I should explain that I purge by singing. It was around 10pm, and I knew I had a busy day today with it being the last day of the month, so I really wanted to get rid of all my emotional baggage and trudge forward to close all my business with a free and rejuvenated soul.

I called our neighbor and asked her daughter if she would mind sitting on the couch for just a couple hours while I ran up to Karaoke night at Spurs. It was a good call.

So I got to the bar, put in my songs, sipped on a couple beers and got up to sing. Before long, I was taking requests. There were a couple of guys at the bar, and I started talking to one of them after I got back off stage.

While we were talking, he explained to me that he had been special ops in the military, and now he was back at home in the States, working as a truck driver. He had the most amazing deep green eyes. He's originally from Alabama and has one daughter who will soon be eight. We had lots to talk about, as I told him about my kids and life here in between karaoke songs.

As the night rolled on, and we kept talking about our pasts, we got into a quick conversation about religion. We were now sitting at a small table away from the majority of the people who were still left in the bar. He said he was a Christian, and he prayed every day that he would be forgiven for some of the things he had to do when he was in the army. When he said this, his eyes quickly filled up with tears, and I could see his eyes cloud over, and knew he was re-living some of those moments in his head.

I immediately did the first thing that I know how to do... which is reach out and hugged him. I just leaned over and gave him the biggest "Mom" hug I had. I could feel his pain and his tears continued for a moment.

After one big deep breath, he stopped, quickly pulling himself together and he said, "You know, I had to do some terrible things. I've taken men's heads off, I've shot people...and it hurts me to know that I did those things, but when I stop and think about why I was doing that... On top of everything else, them shooting at me, and being in the war, those men were raping innocent women and children. And when I start beating myself up, I just think about that, and then I think about my daughter... and I know they really deserved exactly what they got."

I gave him a hug and reassured him that he had protected everything he held most dear in life, and protecting me and everyone else at the bar at the same time by volunteering to put his own life in danger.

He kind of looked up at me and then said, "You are amazing, you know that? Seriously, marry me."

I laughed and said, "You don't even know me".

I ended up diffusing the marriage proposal, but he asked about ten or fifteen times. I kept saying, "Relax... you don't even know me".

In the end, he kept me out later than I had planned to stay out, but the conversation was really great. We exchanged numbers to stay in touch.

When I reflect on the night, I think about how God works in mysterious ways. I met a nice person, who apparently needed some sort of therapy. While I'm not a professional, sometimes you just have to be there for other people. Their every day angel.

In an effort to get rid of some of my stress level, I ended up helping someone else get rid of some guilt. The best part? We both left refreshed and rejuvenated.

Wonderful.

Football and Mom's Taxi Service

So my kid is playing football. Well, not yet... but he's practicing.

He's got the gear... and he's so excited about putting it on, knowing HOW to put it on... telling me how he is supposed to put it on and take it off.

I'm excited for F. Really. I am. He's so full of this massive sense of enjoyment, that it's hard to not be totally sucked up in his joy with him.

I'm not going to lie though... these kids practice FOUR days a week!!! Monday through Thursday for TWO hours! Nothin like throwing a big kink in your dinner plans!

Oh well, this is just my first foray into the wide world of kids and extracurricular activities, I guess it's going to get a LOT worse before it gets any better.

I better start making friends with the moms on the team so we can go back and forth on pickups and drop offs. Sigh....

Oh, almost time to go get him from practice. It was only fair to come home and make dinner after dropping him off. The other kids were ready to claw something apart. They were starving! Even J ate macaroni & cheese. The homemade kind, not the box kind. Without a "J face".

The rest of the kids are super excited though, because they are all planning on going to Wildwood, NJ this weekend and seeing their dad and their Uncle M and their cousins... and their grandma. So it will be great for them to go hang out on the boardwalk... and better still for me to have a weekend "off".

I just hope F doesn't have any games this weekend! Just thought about that right now. Eeek.

Hangin' with the Neighbors

I had a great night tonight. Here it is, after midnight, and I'm at home... I just came in off my front porch, sitting and chatting with two of my neighbors.

I had a tray of Jello Shots that I made back on Saturday, and I was getting tired of having them in the fridge, so I let the girls know that I had them and I wanted them GONE, so we made plans to meet back up after we all tucked our kids in.

I've had a tough day, but also a really tough month... and a night at home just chilling out with the neighbors was exactly what the doctor ordered.

My neighbors are cool. We're all around the same age, have a lot in common anyway (kids will do that to you), but tonight was a great bonding kind of night.

As we picked at the tray of Jello Shots, we shared stories of our pasts, talked about our kids and giggled about the silly things we did as kids (and things we hope our kids don't do!).

It was fun girl bonding time... and thankfully, I can say that just in time for trash day, I officially have no more Jello Shots left.

The three of us made short work of the tray, and we just finally capped off the night and I'm heading peacefully to sleep. I feel much better about the crappy day I had and I'm ready to start next two days (the end of the month!) of work feeling renewed.

I have a lot of work ahead of me over the next 48 hours. I can say with full assurance and self confidence: Bring it on.

Sharing too much or not enough?

I just wanted to take this time to post a quick thought. I'm envious of the people who don't care about the reprocussions of their words.

For example, one of my recent favorite writers is Tucker Max, who talks about his various sexual escapades with a complete lack of thought to what anyone thinks about them. It's not the things that he does, it's that he does it in a witty manner, and isn't afraid to air his FILTHY laundry for the world to see.

I know my words will most likely at some point be seen by my parents, or potential employers.
While I know that I'm only sharing what I feel comfortable with on here, I also know that I'm a little envious of those other bloggers (some lesser known) that are okay with sharing intimate details of their lives, without fear of the wrath that may follow.

In songwriting, you're able to say what you think, but it's vague enough in most cases that you can get away with it. In blogging/journaling/writing - you own each word you write. Sometimes, not posting exactly what you think for fear of what others will think of you or your words, slows down your creative process.

I'm not yet comfortable to share some of my most intimate details and thoughts. Much less some of my actions. So, because of that, I'm completely envious of those who are.

It's not just those who write that I'm a little envious of. I think about all the people I watch performing, who are free enough to just be or say what they think- and not care what anyone else thinks.

On an episode of The Girls Next Door, I watched Kendra go back to San Diego with Hef and the other girls to meet her mom and grandparents. I can't imagine the horror of bringing Hugh Hefner to my parents house, much less if I was his girlfriend (well, one of three).

It's not that I don't love Hef, or the girls, or even Playboy... it's more along the lines of what my parents would think if they saw me half naked (or even fully naked) in a magazine or on a TV show (and not acting- but being myself).

I have lots of random thoughts, but here's the biggest concern I have... Why do I care?

At this point, I'm thirty years old. I don't really think that I should have to worry about what other people think, but I still worry what my parents think, and I will probably always worry about what may come of any actions that leave a lasting impression on my kids.

I have some great stories. Some hysterical stories, some embarrassing stories, some interesting stories... and though I desperately want to share just about everything... I hold back for the reason above.

Hm. Maybe I'm not as advanced in this writing thing as I thought.

They say that life is a string of experiences... but maybe the beauty of my life is the mystery of what I've experienced.

Jon McLaughlin

I'm now in love with this man's music. I didn't remember his name... but I remember the first time I heard him sing. I love the movie, "Enchanted" and he's the guy who sang the Oscar nominated song, "So Close" in the movie's romantic crescendo.

So I loved it, and moved on... and then I found this song, "Indiana".

Most of the people who know me, know that through a man I loved, also named Jon, I have a very special connection to Indiana- and a man that grew up there.

The song itself, is what I consider to be a musical and lyrical work of art. I'm a sucker for piano, and this song is just so fitting. I can imagine my Jon saying all of these lyrics in his own head... he's forced to travel for his job- the one that pays him enough to support his children, but it's a double edged sword, because he has to be on the road, instead of in his town in Indiana... and it's the main reason he doesn't allow himself to commit further to a relationship- because, as he told me... "I couldn't give you the life you deserved"... We are still friends, he still calls nearly every night... but it's still a hard thing to know that it's not going to go anywhere anymore, simply because even though he's told me he loved me... and I've said the same...

We're both committed to doing what's right for our kids and our lives before sharing them with another person again on that level.

So, I found another song of his that I like- from the new Jon in my life (the McLaughlin one), it's called "Beautiful Disaster". I could listen to his soft voice all day and all night.

It keeps the loneliness at bay.

Today, I cried.

It's only quarter to ten in the morning, and I've already cried today.

Why? Well, even the strongest women in the world have their weakest points. I've been struggling lately, to support four kids and doing it on an extra tight budget this month, and today, I have to work the 11am to 7pm shift, which means that I have to have our babysitter come and pick up the kids at 5:30pm, and stay till 7:30pm, which means that I need $20 to pay her.

I have twenty dollars after all is said and done to last us the week. We have food, but we could definitely use a few more things during the week. So, I'm stressing out.

I have these Pittston Area football calendar things that I'm supposed to sell for $10 a piece to get my money back for F being enrolled in their program, but I have no idea why anyone would buy these calendar things and who I'd even ask. I guess I'll try work. Everyone's strapped though.

Anyway, with my own buildup of stress, plus the regular end of the month "I have to hit my numbers or else live like a pauper again for another month", I'm ready to explode.

And then, running through the house straightening up this morning after dropping them all off at daycare, I went to fix the girls beds. Under K's pillow, I found a note to the Tooth Fairy. She had found a box with her tooth in it in my room, and running interference, I said that the Tooth Fairy must have put it somewhere safe while we were moving. I told her to put it under her pillow again and maybe she'd come back and take it this time. K had already been paid for the tooth.

So, there's a note, written in an orange gel pen on a piece of ripped paper. "Tooth Fairy can I fly without wings please?"

Written in my seven year old's handwriting.

Then, I cried. Immediately, memories of my own seventh year came rushing back, and how I wanted to fly without wings too. I think it's many kids' dream to be able to fly.

The reason I think I let the tears fall, is because here I have been so stressed out with my day to day life, paying bills and keeping kids fed... that I failed to see the magic in their eyes.

For a brief moment, I was reminded of the little bit of heaven we get to see when we have children- to experience their "magic" and "belief" and all their hopes and dreams, from a point of an adult's perspective.

So now, I am going to collect myself, remind myself of this magic, and wish like hell I could fly without wings too... I'm going to soar- even if I can't do it physically, I can do it mentally.

My seven year old's note to the Tooth Fairy restored my strength to continue on through these difficult times. There's my slice of heaven.

Backwoods Redneck Living in PA?

I may have moved back to PA from being in Nashville for such a long time, but here's one thing I really do NOT understand.

People would expect rednecks in TN to possibly be missing teeth, etc. But here I am, in northeastern Pennsylvania, and I have noticed an overabundance of missing teeth in the mouths of random strangers.

I felt compelled to blog this after I was sitting peacefully on my front porch, while the rain was winding down and my windchime was blowing in the wind, and as the rain stopped, a couple was walking up the street. There was this woman, a little chunky, wearing jeans and a red baggy shirt with wavy/frizzy blonde hair being held back in a half ponytail. There was a flower tucked into her hair. The man was significantly thinner, with a buzz cut hair do. He looked pretty rough around the edges. He was wearing baggy denim shorts and a dirty t-shirt.

They were holding hands, and as they walked by, he turned to smile at her, and I noticed that he had no teeth. I can't explain how many times I really wish I had a camera implanted into my eyes, so I could replay the things I have seen and share them with others. As they walked past my house, they stopped at the top of the little hill, a few houses up, and kissed each other. Aw, love.

I've met some great people up here. There are some wonderfully genuine people in this area. That sight, sparked a train of thought about the number of people missing teeth in Northeastern Pennsylvania.

People walk down the street, holding hands, flashing smiles that are full of holes. You wanna see typical Pennsylvania redneck? Sit down for a beer in a small bar in Pittston, PA. You'll see the type of redneck you've never seen before. Most of these people are factory workers, or 3rd shifters, or construction workers (that's huge around here). There's nothing wrong with redneck, let me make that clear. I love me some rednecks! What it is, is the difference between the rednecks you find in the south, versus the rednecks you find in the north that makes it so interesting.

Side note here: As I typed that last line, a little finch landed on my porch, sat for about 15 seconds, looking around, then flew away.

I have thought about the old Jeff Foxworthy jokes... "You might be a redneck if", and it's funny, with each one I remember, I can literally look down my block and think about how I can apply something to pretty much someone on my block.

What's more interesting, is that I'm not in the country. I'm in an area known for coal mining and a tomato festival.

While I don't understand the overabundance of the toothless here in my area, I can say this for the area; It really is an area that I feel safe living.

Everyone knows everyone, and so you know who your kids are playing with, you know where they went to school, who their parents are and where they went to school, you know a lot about them (sometimes more than you want to)... but at least you know.

Maybe this area is more redneck than I have given it credit for before.... there's hope yet.

I still wish I had a video or at least a picture of the people walking... sigh.

-A

Ain't Misbehavin'

I wish I had pictures from last night's get together. At work, a few of us went through the paper and noticed that there were some pretty kick ass drink specials at the Woodlands, out on the patio deck. We planned to meet up there after work.

It was a smaller group than normal, as some people went to Big Ugly's and others went home... but it was nice. I arrived around 7pm, as I was busy picking up kids, feeding them and then lined up the babysitter.

Of course, I arrived just as the happy hour specials (the first ones) ended. But, no worries. I sipped on two beers and waited for the next happy hour special to start.

As we sat on the patio, it was only four of us... and it was a blast. We actually had some fun conversation and then M-80 was supposed to play later in the evening. Around 8:30, we headed upstairs to Evolution, because for two hours, bottles and well drinks were only $1. Gotta love that!

As it turns out, one of the guys I work with, knew a bartender there, and he was doing a great job of making sure all our drinks were poured with a heavy hand. When we got up there, I switched to Vodka and Cran... with lime. This was probably not the wisest choice, in retrospect!

I met a very nice older Italian man, who introduced himself to me explaining that his last name rhymed with spaghetti. I found this humorous, of course. I kept trying to buy my own $1 drinks, but Mr. Spaghetti would not let that happen. He insisted even from his chair at the bar, that I did not pay for a thing.

Again, when combined with a bartender's heavy hand, me out with friends from work who are all my age (or real darn close), and someone buying every drink of mine... yikes.

I think I only spent like $15 out last night. And $5 was a cover to get into Evolution.

I realized somewhere during my drinking that I hadn't had dinner. I fixed Mac N Cheese for the kids, but I didn't want it, so I didn't bother eating it. Oops. Well, wasn't going to eat now!

Now, this is where the night kind of gets hazy for a bit, the vodka kicked in... but... I have been told that I went downstairs with the work crew, and we listened and danced like mad to M-80's tunes.

I had been texting with a few friends of mine all night, one in Nashville, and one up here. Well the few friends up in this area were looking to hang out for a while, and it was still pretty early, so I agreed to meet up with them at one of their apartments and the plan was to decide what to do together from there.

So I went.

We ended up drinking a couple beers and hanging right there at the apartment (which I was fine with because I'm being thrifty) for a little while, and then when it got a little later, I decided it was time for me to go home. I pondered getting "breakfast" on the way home, but eventually decided against it figuring I could eat at home instead.

I've been out a lot lately, but only because there's birthday parties galore, and I do like spending time with my friends from work.

Tonight, I am sitting at home, but I did make jello shots and I'm trying to talk a friend or two into coming over and watching movies with me. We'll see. If that doesn't pan out, I will probably just watch movies by myself and invite the neighbor to do a couple jello shots with me.

Next weekend I've got the weekend *off*, and I just talked to my friend T that I met in Nashville, but he lives just outside of Philly at the moment, and used to play in the band that contained members that I went to MIDDLE SCHOOL with! It was random that we met, and funnier when we realized how much we had in common.

Anyway, I was going to host a house party that weekend, but decided instead after talking to T that I'll meet him and his friends down in Philly when I drop off the kids to see their dad, and then we're going to go to Atlantic City for the day/night. His buddy has a house down at the shore. I haven't seen T in so long, so it will be nice to reconnect. I'm going to have to drive home Saturday or first thing Sunday morning.

And then, there's paintball with the Cacti Crew on Sunday. I look forward to traipsing through the woods and shooting off a gun. It's a WONDERFUL stress reliever! Shooting at people is awesome, and since you know you're not going to kill them, but just slightly cause them some pain... I don't know why I get such a sadistic kick out of it, but I do.

Plus, it's great exercise and I am just completely jazzed about going again.

One of my most embarrassing and odd secrets.

I have had, for no apparent reason, and for many years... a private, one-sided love affair with Heath Ledger.

I remember when I first laid eyes on the man, it was years ago in "10 Things I Hate About You", a campy, teen love movie. And I loved him in it. I was suddenly smitten with a man I had never met.

I've since watched Heath Ledger's movie career progress, and with each year and movie made fell more infatuated with the man. My favorite, so far, was "The Patriot". It helps that I also like that time period.

Anyway, now that "Batman: The Dark Knight" is out, I want to go see it, but... I wonder how much it's going to make me softly suffer in silence to see him on the screen and know once again that he is no longer with us.

I remember the day I found out he was dead, back in January. I was sitting at a restaurant bar, with a friend, and the TV was on one of the news channels. I could read the bottom headline that he was found dead in his apartment, and I actually teared up. I could not believe the silliness, but I definitely started to tear up- because I would never get the chance to meet him.

So, that's one of my most embarrassing stories/secrets. Even now, I look at a picture of him, and I still get a little sad for the loss of the "what if"...

No more nitpicking!

I'm thoroughly disgusted.

The kids had lice.

I've treated FOUR, yes, FOUR kids for a lice infestation, done all the laundry, sprayed the car, packed up all stuffed animals, sprayed the sofa, vacuumed... and I'm freakin' exhausted.

I can only HOPE I've done everything right.

Full Moon Antics...

It's nothing new, people say strange things happen with a full moon... well... Yes, they do.

I went out with the Cactus Crew last night to celebrate some co-workers birthdays. It was awesome, as usual, but I ended up getting there late, so of course, most of my friends were pretty well liquored up. There were even a few "non-regulars" that showed up and stayed in full force for the evening.

When I got there, I made my way to the bar, said hello to my friends... and then... What do I do? I tried to play a game called "catch up". I didn't drink any beer last night, just my Crown and Coke combination... but I did have ONE shot - a Jagerbomb, that I did with the birthday celebrators.

I should really know better than to do this catch up game. Actually, I do... But.... The night started off slow as I didn't get there till a little after ten (wanted to tuck in the kids and get everyone settled before heading out for the night). But... it picked right up again once I finished my first yummy drink.

I should mention that hilarity ensued somewhere around my 3rd drink... There was some singing along with the band, there were some interesting conversations, a random trip to a stairwell, watching cute boys on the patio below, an interesting flirtation and an unexpected phone call.

I never really feel like giving away all the details in a blog under my real name... but let's just say that for a little while there, things may or may not have gotten a little out of control.
It was definitely a night full of unexpected twists, strange conversations and to sum it up... it was what we call, a PMFA night, which is Pretty Much Fuckin' Awesome.

Just what one would expect by the light of a full moon.

AudreyTV

Maybe I'm just odd (Dawe would use this opportunity to say: "ODDrey"), or maybe it's just that I was raised in the entertainment industry and am a performer myself.... but I have moments where I channel that movie EdTV, or maybe even that old Jim Carrey one... was it TRUMAN?



Anyway, I have moments in my life where I seriously start to view things as if I am an actor, rather than a live being... and I guess that's probably why I'm fucked up.



My imagination runs wild, and I can imagine that I'm literally reading a script of my life, or that secretly, someone has a camera hidden. Unfortunately, my life is probably more boring at the moment than anyone would care to see... but I sometimes run narration in my head. I definitely have an overactive imagination.



Maybe it's because I'm not performing much anymore. I think that's a pretty good assessment of why I might do that.



Performers always look for new opportunities to perform. Actors act, Singers, sing... me, I do everything.



There's a strange familiarity in "turning it on" that makes me feel more comfortable. Yes, I'm myself, but I like to imagine myself with paparazzi or a film crew. I channel different characters at times- none of mine have names and I'm not schizo, I have total control over the moods I channel...



To deal with life, I put forth my "Strong, Determined, Unstoppable" Woman mood. It helps me when all the chips are down to remain positive.



When dealing with men, I use one of three:

"Sexy, Seductive, Baaaaad girl" - This one is a hit behind closed doors, but for this mood, I channel my inner Marilyn Monroe or Mae West... maybe a little Jenna Jameson.



"Poor, Helpless, Dumb Blonde" - This one, I pull out the stops for when I don't feel like being Ms. Handywoman and want a guy to help me with whatever it may be. I channel my inner Anna Nicole Smith or Jessica Simpson- depending on the situation.



"One of the boys" - this is really me, but I jack it up a notch when I'm around a group of men.

I guess we all have our quirks, but I just like to imagine an audience... :)

Channeling my inner Betty Crocker. Ha!

Ok, so... A co-worker and somewhat new friend of mine is turning 30 (actually, she's 30 as of now- being that it's after midnight).

In a quest to really try to live the Golden Rule, I decided to make Donna birthday cupcakes to bring into the office. Ok, maybe it's my quest to be nice, eternally... not sure.

Anyhow, I sent out an email saying that I was going to make cupcakes, but I wanted to do something special as a surprise for Donna to celebrate her 30th. Being that I just had my 30th birthday earlier this year, the reason behind my wanting to do something special for her stems more from my appreciation of welcoming another friend into her 30s... knowing it's a big milestone birthday.

Anyway, I came home after work tonight, fed the kids, and after everyone was tucked in, I pulled out my baking supplies. A quick glance in the cabinets let me know that I had no more cupcake liners. I quickly realized making cupcakes was going to be out of the question.

Since I had lots of frosting, I figured a two tier cake would work well too. I'm really not a cake person. All my cakes tend to be bought. I love to bake, but it's more muffins, pies, cakes that don't need frosting and other kinds of desserts.

I decided to channel my inner Betty Crocker. I had amazing hopes for this cake. I had everything I needed, including a frosting bag, pieces for the tips, and food coloring. The entire time, I'm thinking... I've seen the people in the bakeries in grocery stores... it cannot be THAT hard to frost and decorate a cake! I had visions of artistic greatness.

I preheated the oven. I grab my two 8" baking pans out of the cabinet, and mix the cake batter in my big metal bowl. I then pour the batter into the pans and slide the pans in the oven. This was a little after 10pm. I was on the phone with Jon while I was doing this. He's been calling again and we were catching up on our lives and plans for the rest of the summer. I set the timer and sit on the couch, then the porch to finish our conversation.

Side note here: I thought he was literally the love of my life for a very long time. I'm not sold on that anymore, but I know we have a special connection... it's really up to him to decide if he's willing to acknowledge or permit anything more- and then up to me to figure out if I still want to devote myself to that cause again.

Back to the cake baking! The timer goes off, as Madelyn wanders down the stairs, crying. It's nearly 11pm. I pull the cakes out of the oven and allow them to cool. Then I go downstairs to find the glass cake stand that has not been used for ages. I wash that, send Madelyn to the couch to lay down, and as I'm drying that, Madelyn decides to head back upstairs.

I put the first layer of cake on the stand, and it's clear that it's obviously still warm. Sigh... it's going to need to cool more.

At this point, I decide that I should take in an episode of Sex And The City on TBS and leave the cake decorating for when it cools down.

So, I walk back into the kitchen, dreaming of this amazing cake that I'm going to design... and I should have known better. Really.

I have three containers of vanilla frosting- by THREE different companies. Betty Crocker, Pillsbury and Bakers Choice. Of course, the first two I open are slightly different shades of white. This results in me trying my best to blend the two frostings, once it's already on the cake.

Fantastic.

Surprisingly, it didn't look horrible.

I mix the first batch of colored frosting. Pink. I choose my tip to hopefully make a pretty decorative edging around the cake. HA! I get halfway around, and suddenly realize... with nearly NO red food coloring left, that I'm almost out of frosting already. SHIT! I scrape the container I was mixing it in, and somehow pull off a skinnier version of the edging than I originally wanted.

Oh well, can't fix it now!

Then comes the rinsing of the frosting bag, to make it ready for the next color. While I'm rinsing this incredibly sticky frosting bag, my speed in doing so fills the water on one side and I let go of the other, sending a bunch of water towards my body... now my pj top is soaked at the belly level. I spew some sort of profanity, and then finish up.

I mix the green next, and try my attempt at leaves. I know I can fill in flowers later. I realize I may have gotten overzealous with the amount of green I mixed, and then even more so, with the amount of flowers I put on the cake... but I still have a HUGE bag of green left. Ok, I'll do the Happy Birthday in green.

I change out the tops for the frosting, but quickly realize that writing on a cake is NOT as easy as it seems. I give silent credit to the bakery workers. Notice how "Happy" is completely lopsided... I almost dropped the big bag of frosting on the cake. I finish up the writing... and again rinse the bag, this time keeping all the water in the sink.

Time for purple. I mix the purple, and have to pry off the top of the red food coloring bottle, so I can try and get the last few drops. Of course, the squeeze cap finally comes off and FLYS onto the side of the cake! Red food coloring is on my hand and now the cap tip is on the cake! Thankfully, I had a clean spatula and I just scooped it out. WHEW. Crisis averted.

The flowers were easy, BLOP, tada, flower-like blob of frosting.

When I finished, I looked at the cake and laughed out loud. It truly looks like a ten year old decorated it. I actually think a ten year old might be able to do better.

Immediately, I thought, I have to take a picture and blog about the silly process... and I looked at the clock to notice that it's 1am. I know I can take consolation in the fact that Donna will probably still love it, even with it looking like a 10 year old decorated the cake.

So tonight, at 1:30am, I sign off... to be ready for work in the morning, the cake is in the fridge, hopefully to set any soft frosting... and it will be interesting to say the least, how I'm going to transport said cake to the office. Oh, God... I swear, next time- store bought cupcakes.

-A

My first official post

I've been blogging for years... journaling, etc... and blogging on my MySpace page... but I really just want to have a place that's solely for me. Not associated with anything other than me.

My life, my pursuit of happiness. My experiences- both good and bad.

I realize that there are probably many things that I will do, or have done that some may not agree with... but here's the deal... I'm thirty. I've made some mistakes in my life, but I've also done some wonderful things too.

My main goal in this lifetime, is to look back in those last moments of my life and not have any regrets.

I'm sure I may have things I would have done differently, but at the same time, I don't want to have felt like I missed out on something great simply because I was too afraid to make the choice to do it... or felt pressures that led me away from where my gut was telling me to go.

So that's me... and in this blog, you'll get a bunch of my daily thoughts, ramblings and beyond that, maybe some shared stories/in depth stories about my life. You'll get to know me... and hopefully you can walk with me...

I look forward to sharing with you... and I hope you enjoy reading!

-Audrey