Four Year Anniversary: Now with 90% less Disney

Thank you to Log Cabin for sponsoring my post about updated traditions in my household. To learn more about Log Cabin Syrups (which are all free of High Fructose Corn Syrup), breakfast for dinner, and other new ways to update traditions in your home, click here. I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.


Hubby and I moved to Florida exactly three months before our first anniversary.

Our first year of marriage hadn't been easy. We experienced layoffs, difficulty finding jobs, the unexpected death of our first cat and the biggest move either of us had ever experienced. We decided to celebrate our first year with a trip to Disney World, a short drive from where we'd moved.

Four years younger and ten pounds lighter.

We splurged on a season pass, knowing we'd take full advantage of everything Disney had to offer. Yes, two adults can have fun at Disney without a child in tow. We booked a hotel outside the park, but one with a fancy breakfast and transportation to the park. Not only were we celebrating our first year of marriage, but a new life in a new state where we could grow where we were planted.

Sharing the world's most expensive Coke.

When our season passes ran out the next year, we decided to continue this tradition for year two. It wasn't quite as fancy. We probably stayed in a terrible hotel because it's sort of our thing. We probably yelled at some people for cutting front of us in line. We probably looked like wilted flowers by the end of the day.

We definitely had a great time.

Last year was more of the same, but took on a much larger meaning: last May was the last anniversary trip we'd take to Disney on our own. I was about 12 weeks pregnant and only showing in my face and hips. I personally had been infected with Baby Fever, and although I'm speaking for him, I'm pretty sure he was too. Did you know a substantial amount of children go to Disney? Up until that point, when my little squirt had just only allowed me to eat real food again, we hadn't noticed how many beautiful babies visited the parks. It's all we talked about.

We were in line for Snow White and started a conversation with the woman behind us, mother of a cute two-year-old girl. We told her I was pregnant and due in November.

"That's so great!" she said. "Your lives are going to change. For the better!"

We asked her to take our picture with our little anniversary pins to remember our last trip as a family of two.

This year our family tradition of heading to Orlando for a weekend with Mickey is going to be very different. Instead of park-hopping with a season pass, we'll be shopping at Downtown Disney. Instead of standing in line for $4 Cokes, we'll be cooking pancakes for breakfast in our suite (generously gifted to us by my sweet sister). Instead of eagerly awaiting another ride on Pirates of the Caribbean, we'll be splashing in the hotel pool with our six-month-old baby boy.

Today is one month until our fourth anniversary, and something tells me this year will be the best one yet.

What are some of your favorite family traditions?

Rural Florida is not much different than all of West Virginia

This is a Wordless Wednesday post.

FOOLED YOU! I knew if I put Wordless Wednesday in the title, 50% of you would move on along down your Google reader list and call it a day. You'd be like me at Sams club with the free samples: "Oh, I couldn't! Well, maybe I'll just try it. Delicious! I think I might think about thinking about buying one." And I have absolutely no intention of buying the product.

But if you skip this one, you would have missed out on three things in this particular post: CUTE BABY PICTURES; lots of actual words; and my comparison of Rural Florida and West Virginia.

I was born and raised in West Virginia. Some of my very favorite people in the world were also born and raised in West Virginia. But come on, let's be honest, it's not the most sophisticated of places, which is OK because I'm not a sophisticated person.

I moved to Florida and I'm all, HOT DIGGITY DOG, no more hillbillies! Hoooooray! And sure enough, there are no hillbillies.

Because there are no hills.

Instead, we have rednecks.

Therein lies the first difference. Secondly, there are palm trees in Florida. Thirdly, the produce stands sell much more delicious fruit AND accept food stamps as payments, so that's different.

Other than that? Pretty similar, which just goes to show that a festival is a festival no matter in what state the organizers set up the [insert questionable meat product here] on-a-stick stands and shaky rides held together by duct tape, luck and a prayer.

Now, on to the pictures!

So many strawberries you turn INTO a strawberry!

Chilling in a great big strawberry.

Delicious.

Candy, foam hats and jazz hands. This is my idea of fun these days.

Very grumpy baby in a very cute hat.

Apparently this is a "thing".

Maybe next year, my love.

This baby is ruining my whole fall

The past two years, Hubby and I have imbibed in wines and delicious foods from around the world at the Epcot International Food and Wine Festival. It has all of our favorite things:

• Food
• Wine
• Disney World

This year we opted out of renewing our seasonal passes to Disney World. The renewal date was in May and the seasonal passes are blacked-out for the whole summer and we wouldn't have been able to go back until August. And I can't think of much worse at 7 months pregnant than walking around a crowded theme park in the August heat. And  the September heat. And the October heat.

Besides, how could we spend weekends at Disney World, enjoying delicious food and wine, when we've invested a small fortune in the NFL, NBA and college football packages on DirecTV? Blasphemy.

When I started seeing commercials for the Food & Wine Festival, I got a little case of the sads. We always went for the booze and stayed for the delightfully lame entertainment: Enrique Inglesias. Taylor Hicks. Air Supply.

So, no booze. No tasty, international dishes. No Jon Secada or Hanson.

But I'm having a baby, so that totally makes up for it.

But then I saw a Tweet that rocked my world:

 

Um.

Excuse me?

Boyz II Men.

Boyz. Two Capital "i"s. MEN?

ONLY my favorite R&B quartet in 1995. ONLY giving a FREE concert at Epcot.

Kaching! and Jackpot! If only......................................................

Baby Blogworthy, you have really put me in a pickle now, what with your sitting on my bladder so I have to pee every three seconds, and your big, hard head all but stopping the circulation in my legs, giving me a wicked cankle, and your little toes kicking my bronchial tubes so I sound like an asthmatic old man. And now making me MISS OUT on this concert.

I wont' soon let you forget the year you were happily baking away while I had to miss  Boyz II Men's big theme park comeback, and don't you EVEN think I won't bring it up.

Baby Blogworthy: Mom, I don't want to clean my room because I want to go play with my friends instead.

Me: Well I didn't want to miss the Boyz II Men concert in November 2010, but I did because I was giving life to you.

And so forth. I'm all about the passive aggressive behavior.

Have you ever missed an amazing event because of some other amazing event? Isn't this a sad, sad story? Did you rock out to Boyz II Men back in the day?

Hey HEY hey, word nerd!

My biggest fear has 6 legs

When I was younger, my biggest fear was failure.

I was always worried that I wouldn't be good enough, that I'd be broke, or fired, or dumped. All that equaled failure to me, and it was terrifying.

Then I got dumped. Then I graduated from college, and then graduated from college again with my Masters degree. Then I got married. Then I got laid off. So, once you've experienced a good amount of both successes and failures and realize that it's not the end of the world when you do fail and that you CAN succeed, it's time to get a new biggest fear.

Around that time we moved to Florida, and a terrifying new world opened to me: a world with lots of legs, antennae and pre-historic looking exoskeletons.

The world of roaches.

Now, nothing in this world frightens me as much as cockroaches. Lizards? Love em. Mice? I mean, not my favorite but whatever. Snakes? Please stay away, but I am only mildly scared.

When I see a cockroach, I scream like I'm being stabbed with a butter knife, and it's not just one scream, it's a long, drawn out, "there-is-a-serial-killing-clown-in-our-garage-please-someone-help" scream. I run and slam doors. I refuse to step foot in our garage where they love to chill near the trash can. Sometimes I scream at the thought of them being there. If they are in the house FOR-GET it. I will have a panic attack on your ass, TRUST ME.

Back in WV it seems like we had an ant problem every spring, and as much as they grossed me out, I always sort of felt sorry for them. They were just harmless babies of the insect world, trying to find a delicious meal of cereal or rice to take back to their queen. And good on them for picking up that giant piece of cat food that's 14 billion times their size and carrying it all the way back to their nest.

But cockroaches? To me, cockroaches are a sign of dirty-ness and living in squalor. Cockroaches are scavengers and harbingers of disease.

And they are also apparently all around and COMPLETELY NORMAL. One of my co-workers has them in her mailbox, so when she opens it they scatter and then she reaches in and gets her mail. OVER MY DEAD BODY would I EVER get the mail again. I'd be all, credit card companies, sorry, but you're just going to have to wait for my payment because the cockroaches are currently holding my mail hostage with their tiny little feet and 18 kneecaps. Sick.

Apparently there is nothing you can do -- they are just a part of life down there in the dirty South (is THAT why it's called the dirty South??). I was talking about (what I believe to be) our cockroach infestation and what we were planning on doing to about it and my work friend said, "well good luck with that. Nothing helps. They'll leave in the winter."


O.M.G.

Here is a chart to express my hatred of cockroaches:

TRUE STORY ALERT: This weekend I was home alone, right? And so I was getting ready to shower before bed, took my contacts out, turned the water on and noticed  A GIANT COCKROACH on the wall above the shower. I called my husband and was sobbing about this darn cockroach because what am I supposed to do? It's my biggest fear COME TO LIFE and staring me in the face. I asked him to come home from his conference, but when he told he he couldn't do that, I had him walk me step by step through the process of killing the cockroach dead. It included multiple steps, starting with "throw a magazine at it" and "hit it with a shoe".


Then after I killed it, I put on my glasses and discovered it was actually a beetle.


IT COULD HAVE BEEN A COCKROACH, you guys. You have to be diligent about those nasty things.


According to British researchers at the University of Nottingham's School of Veterinary Medicine and Science, cockroaches could be the key to fending off harmful, drug-resistant bacteria (DO NOT CLICK ON THIS IF YOU ARE TERRIFIED OF COCKROACHES OR GROSSED OUT BY BUGS).

I'm sorry, but e coli is one billion and a half times better than cockroaches.

What is your biggest fear? Do you hate insects? What do you think is worse than cockroaches?

It's been awhile -- wanna hear some work stories?

My team has access to the production studio at work, which is much less impressive than it sounds, although the most wonderful, cool, dark and quiet room you'll ever see in your life. Don't think I haven't thought long and hard about napping there on occasion. Anyway, we do some video editing and podcasting there. Our studio is located within a suite that holds our call center, an impressive 5 employees strong. That's right -- we're so awesome we only need 5 people in our call center. 

I was editing some video yesterday and when I walked out one of our call center employees whispers to me to come over to her desk. She's a really nice lady, a little older, always so happy and positive. We work in the same department but not really with one another, but I knew OF her. So I head over to her desk and have the following conversation:

Her: Let me ask you something. Don't you get mad at me, now. [places her hand on my belly] Are you pregnant?

Me: Yes!

Her: I knew it. You're having a girl, aren't you? [as she continues to rub my belly]

Me: Actually no, a boy. We just found out last week.

Her: That's just so wonderful! [tone change to angry] Did that big tall girl have her baby yet?????

Me: [taken aback] um, well, I don't know. Maybe? 

Two things: my belly is not that big, so touching it at this point is still a little more in my personal space than I care for an almost stranger to be. I mean when the baby gets bigger, maybe. But right now, I'll take my belly untouched, please. Also? I don't know what girl she's talking about. Like no clue whatsoever. It was a strange transaction.

_________________________________________

Our little intern, bless his heart, he's 21 years old. It's just precious. I love 21 year olds because they are still filled with goodness and wonder and positivity. They still think liberal arts is a good, strong choice. They like things such as napping and doing projects and going out to bars. They have time for all that stuff.

I gave him a project to help me with this summer -- taking photos of some nurses for our website. He came in with the photos and he's all, look how they all posed and stuff for me. They were really friendly. Another coworker teased him about giving the girls his number and he said, "naw, they were older." Older. Guess what's older to a 21 year old? TWENTY-FIVE. Yeah, the ripe old age of 25. Over the hill, certainly. I mean after the metabolism starts to slow it's all over. 

We all enjoy our intern.

__________________________________________

Not really work related, but since this blog is turning out pretty random anyway, here goes. In the past two weeks, we've had one almost fatal lightening strike in the area and one not really close to be fatal but still scary anyway alligator attack.

The alligator attack was on a researcher who was snorkeling in a river about 30 minutes south of where I live. The alligator was all, Oh, my food delivery is here NOM. And the guy was apparently big and strong and wrassled him off. The guy got a bite on his neck and some cuts and bruises but was OK and would make a full recovery. The alligator was murdered by the Fish and Wildlife people. Let's be clear here -- if you were in your living room and a some terriyaki chicken wings just sauntered in like they owned the placed, kicked up their drummettes and sat a spell, you'd bite them...right? Same with this gator. Dude was swimming in his house! And I'm sure he smelled delicious.  So whatever, I'm over it now but there was a hot second where I was sitting here with tears in my eyes after I found out the alligator was shot.


These two things together make Florida seem like the most terrifying place on the planet.

How many inches is your personal space bubble? How much do you enjoy interns and/or 21 year olds? Are you scared of Florida?

How me became we: Why are we up so early? The proposal

Hubby and I dated for over a year and a half and had talked about marriage, but he always said he wanted to be able to afford a nice ring and just wasn't able to at the time. I was like NO BIG DEAL, my life is not defined by what age I am married, I AM SECURE IN OUR RELATIONSHIP (and I truly was). When we started planning our summer vacation to St. Augustine, FL, in May 2006 it wasn't even on my radar.

I purchased my first new car that Spring and we were going to drive it to Florida, stopping first in Charleston, SC on the way down. We left unreasonably cold WV for Charleston after work on a Friday night. The trip to Charleston was only about 7 hours, so we were there close to midnight and checked into our ghetto fabulous hotel. Hubby was, like, a FREAK about locking my car. He did the thing he STILL does to this day, where he will lock the trunk, then push down on the trunk, then lock it again. He looked out two or three times just to make sure the car was OK, and I was all, buddy, listen, I know you're excited about my new car, but honestly, take a chill pill.

We left Sunday for St. Augustine. Once we got to the hotel and carried our luggage in he started acting weird and quiet and I only noticed that looking back on it. It was sort of late and we were tired from the drive, but he still wanted to get up for an early morning walk on the beach. I'm such a grump in the morning and I was not having it, but he insisted. I'm like whatEVER, I GUESS I can take a nap in the afternoon BLAH.

Dark o' thirty in the AM rolled around before we knew it. We put on our beach walkin' clothes and started to head out. Hubby was holding his binocular bag and I couldn't figure out why, I mean a) what did he think he would see at 6:30 am? cruise ships? dolphins?  and b) why would he need binoculars for it?

We started out and walked and walked and walked and walked, then turned around and walked, then he stopped and bent down to pick up a shell (or so I thought). I turned around in a huff because sister ain't drank her coffee yet if you're picking up what I'm laying down.

Before I had a chance to yell, he was on his knee ON THE BEACH AT SUNRISE with a diamond ring. I don't remember what he said because he truly caught me off guard. All I knew is that the answer to that question was a resounding YES.

Approximately 3 minutes after he proposed.
The person we stopped to take our picture wasn't
nearly as excited about it as we were.

It turns out he couldn't figure out how to fit the ring box into his shorts without me noticing, so he put it in the bionularless bionocular bag. And the obsessive car locking? Three months salary was in that trunk. Now how was I supposed to know that? 

We were married almost a year to the day later at our outdoor amphitheater.

 

Should I go ahead and tell the photographer story? It's such a doosey, but this is getting long and it's my third post this week....do you guys mind? Here we go.

The photographer we chose was nice and cheap. Please, please, please, for those of you getting married, do NOT, under any circumstance, allow "cheap" and "nice" to dictate your wedding photographer choice. She was a nightmare. Her behavior included:

•  Even though I told her to NOT photography my sister and I without makeup, she did.
• She messed with my sister's dress and said "Let me just tuck you in....even skinny people can have back fat." and if looks could kill, my sis's gaze could have killed her instantly with white-hot firey rage.
• She told me my smile was cheesy.
• She booked another wedding while shooting ours and BRAGGED about it.
• She jumped in line before my in-laws during the buffet. 
• Hubby likes kissing me on the forehead because I'm so short and he's so tall, right? He probably did it 40 times during the reception. Toward the end she goes, "Hmmph. I swear, he just keeps kissing you and I miss it."
• At one point she said, "Well there are some shadows here, so I'll just put it on this setting and hope things come out" THANKS FOR INSTILLING CONFIDENCE.
• She overcharged us for our prints and took 3 months to send them. Out of 500 shots, we could barely find 100 that we liked enough for our album.

Please look beyond cheap and nice. The only good thing to come out of this experience was our ability to laugh at back fat.

Everything else was perfect -- perfect weather, yummy food, surrounded by my family and best friends. It was stressful, but beautiful. Here are some pictures!

My brother-in-law is a pastor and married us.

Us posing by the fountain,
yes, there is a copyright all up on that picture
but who has two thumbs, a cheesy smile, and doesn't give a crap? *this girl!*

Official-ness is a-ok!

After the wedding, we spent a week in Mexico at an all-inclusive -- I called it Wedding Rehab 2007.

Thanks for indulging me on this little trip down memory lane! I hope you enjoyed. I love hearing love stories, proposals and wedding stories, so you guys should share yours, too!

Our Disney Sports Weekend (Volume 3): I probably won't quit my day job. Probably.

If you've missed them, Volume 1 and Volume 2 of this epic trip.

So during our getting famous and not getting killed, we tried a new feature at Hollywood Studios which is the Animation Station. I might have just made up that name, but it accurately describes the attraction. It's part of the animation "studio" that used to be a really legit studio until they decided computer animation was the way to go. How it's mostly a place to get awesome pictures taken with Disney characters. And they also pretend actual animation goes on here.

The Animation Station is a 20-minute class in which a Disney employee who is an artist teaches guests how to draw Disney characters using basic shapes (apparently how real cartoonists do it). We took the class three times during the weekend and learned to draw Donald, Goofy and Mickey.

First we learned Donald:

 

My Donald.

 

Hubby's Donald (Clearly mine is better)

Next was Mickey:

 

How awesome is my Mickey, anyway?

Hubby wouldn't let me post his because he said it was too horrible. I probably could have posted it anyway because he doesn't read this, but I'm a really nice wife.

The last class, we drew Goofy:

 

 

Hub's Goofy.

 

My Goofy.

So I know by now you're all totally jealous of my drawing skills, but please note that I am not planning on making this a career because it was stressful, y'all! There were no erasers on those bad boy pencils! But I do sort of kick butt at drawing Disney characters.

To thus ends my fabulous journey to Orlando.

I had every intention of posting this yesterday, but we're suffering from Man Cold 2010 (the sequel) at my house which is sucking every spare bit of energy from everyone that lives here.

Some Florida winter truths for you guys who think I'm a wuss

I'm writing this from my couch, where every square inch of my body is covered with some type of fleece, topped with a thick blanket.

It's pretty much Armageddon here, people. We've only had two days above 70 degrees since December. I can't tell you how many days we've had below freezing because my brain is frozen. FROZEN SOLID.

I was looking back on some old blogs and found this one where I was complaining incessantly about how hot it was back in October, so I will take the blame for this one. I should have learned my lesson my first winter here when I posted a really snotty message about wearing flip flops in January and it proceeded to drop into the low 50s for, like, a week.

And I thought THAT was bad.

Listen, I know. You guys and your 40 inches of snow or whatever. I've been reading your blogs, I know all about how stir crazy you're getting and how you haven't seen the ground for weeks. And trust me, I feel very sad for all of you. It's no fun living in Northern states where you're at the Mother Nature's mercy for 4 months out of the year. My deepest sympathies to you.

That's why I moved to Florida.

I can hear it now. "Poor little Floridian," you will say. "Why don't you go cry a river of tears into your lightweight jacket because the brilliant Florida sun will just dry them in 2.2 seconds?"

However, (and please, Southern readers, back me up on this), I've learned two things about surviving winters in the South.

First, 40 degrees in Florida feels way colder than 40 degrees up north. My father-in-law used to make fun of us for talking about throwing on a sweatshirt if it gets a little cool until he came down to visit during our first cold snap of the season around Christmas. It was such sweet justification when he said to me, "You know...I don't know what it is, but it feels much colder what I'm reading on the thermometer." TOLD YOU SO.

I have no clue why this happens, but I know it's not just me. My coworker said it was the higher humidity that makes it feel cold, but we're in marketing, not meteorology, so it's pretty much a shot in the dark.

Second truth about Florida winters -- well, more specifically, about Floridians: our blood has thinned out considerably. I mean it really has to happen and if you've visited Florida in, say, August, you'll know why. It's a survival mechanism. You can't have the blood of a Northerner churning through your veins when it's 95 degrees and 98% humidity or you'll die. Um, it's basically biology, you guys. But the downside is when we have freakishly cold winters, we pretty much freeze to death.

Oh also? I have a closet full of warm weather clothes that I can't even think about wearing and about 7 sweaters I've been wearing on repeat for over a month. Maybe that explains why I'm eating every fattening food that crosses my path -- I'm adding some winter blubber, much like a walrus.

That reminds me, did you know that there were a bunch of manatees that were in danger of freezing to death, too (just like me), because the water in South Florida was too cold? And some of them did? Sad face for the manatees (do NOT click on that link unless you want to cry.)

Here is me two years ago: "Oh, how precious, they have a Winter Weather Advisory crawl on TV."
Here is me today: "OMG it's going to frost tonight! Quick, get the extra sheets so we can cover our plants!"

Anyway, I hope, on behalf of all the weather-weary bloggers, that it warms the heck up and SOON.

The post where I complain about some things

You know? It's close to 11 and I'm pretty beat. I get super grumpy when I'm tired. So the better plan would be put my PJs on and get a good night's sleep. But instead, I'm going to write a list of things that are currently pissing me off.

• I hate having my plans changed last minute. I am not what you call a "spontaneous" person. Like at all. I need to know exactly what's going to be happening that day, have a plan in place and carry out the plan. I ain't a happy camper if things are suddenly changed, which they were today. You know, I wasn't always like this. I used to not care. I used to be flexible. But for whatever reason, it makes me antsy and irritable.
• Why do I always clean out the litter boxes? I dont' know how many times I have to ask Hubby to clean them out, both passively ("Gosh that's that smell? Smells like litter in here. Sick. Don't invite anybody over until they get cleaned out, ok?") and agressively ("Can you just clean out the litter boxes ONCE in your life?") Then he'll do it once in a blue moon LITERALLY and acts like he freaking won a nobel prize. It's a crappy job in every since of the world, I get that. I hate it too. But do you want the house we own to smell like a zoo? Do you HAVE a sense of smell? 
• Why is it so frackin cold in Florida? Guess what the temprature was yesterday....JUST GUESS. I'll wait. Ok, I'm done waiting. IT WAS 32 DEGREES. WTH you guys? I moved to Florida for a R-E-A-S-O-N. What did we do to Mother Nature to make this happen? Is it because I bought a new winter coat on clearance and said I was afraid it wasn't going to be warm enough to wear it? I wasn't serious, Mother Nature, I could have waited until next season, thanks.
• I don't understand some college men and they way they treat women. I have a certain friend who has been really strung along by a guy she likes. It makes me absolutely furious. I'm so far removed from it, but at the same time, that kind of heartache is so memorable that I can't help but put myself in her shoes, and it gives me the sads. I want to scream at him, but it's not my place. It's insanely disrespectful.
• Dear Bell South: I know that I called you last weekend to ask why my internet wasn't working and you said there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, but THERE IS OBVIOUSLY SOMETHING WRONG WITH IT BECAUSE IT DOESN'T WORK 65% OF THE TIME. Get your act together. Annoyed, me.

Sorry this is so Negative Nelly but like I said, I should probably just go to bed instead of post this and I'll be better tomorrow. And hopefully funnier. 

Wednesday night dinner, you're now my favorite meal

I thought all day about what I should say regarding our new Wednesday night dinner routine. I mean, I walk the fine line between informing y'all and bragging about the awesome things that happen to me. So, please don't' be too jealous when you read about our amazing evening Wednesday.

We live about a half-mile from a place called Beef O' Bradys. Is that just a Florida place, or what? Cause they are all over Florida. Anyway, they have good wings and other "bar food", you know the stuff that you just look at the appetizers and your face breaks out and your heart just throws up the white flag of surrender. And what I mean by all that is, the good stuff. By the way, my last meal would consist of motz sticks, stuffed mushrooms, potato skins and cheese fries with bacon.

Wednesday nights are a very special and magical night at Beefs because it's not only half-priced appetizer night, but also 99 cent draft beer AND 59 cent wing night.

But the best part about it is Magic Mike is on hand to entertain the young and young-at-heart (like my Hubby). Magic Mike is this awesome dude who is a magician, juggler, balloon artist and riddle teller. He makes what could be a pretty quick, cheap and greasy meal into a evening of fun and mystery! The best part is his scrolling, digital Magic Mike! name tag. It really completes the ensemble and makes him legit.

Two weeks ago we went to Beefs and Hubby was all, is that guy supposed to be here, or is he just a local that shows up on his own and hangs out and makes balloon animals? Cause if so -- creepy. That day he came to our table and was like, would you like to see a card trick? Which was awesome. And then he gave us a little puzzle using matchsticks to take home and ponder over until next Wednesday. So at this point, we realize that he's someone who Beef's pays to entertain each Wednesday.

I mean, party over at Beef's, y'all!

This week Hubby was totally eager to eat at Beefs and I'm pretty sure it was because of Magic Mike.  We walked in and Hubby saw him and said, "Oh, Magic Mike is here!" and we sat down and then he literally could not stop trying to get Magic Mike's attention. We're sitting there and the conversation goes a little something like this:

Me: Did you bring us here just so you can see Magic Mike?
Hubby: um, of course.
Me: Why?
Hubby: Because he has cool balloon animals and puzzles and card tricks. And because he's awesome.

Then he quietly starts chanting, "Magic Mike! Magic Mike!" and says he really wants a balloon animal.

Then he screams "Hey! Magic Mike!" across the restaurant. Magic Mike comes over and says hi, and Hubby says, "Mike, we were here last week! You gave us a puzzle! We'd like another puzzle today!" And Mike says he'll give us a new puzzle after we order our food.

So the time comes and Mike stops back by and hands my husband a cubed box puzzle for him to figure out while we ate. The next hour consisted of Hubby simultaneously eating our appetizers and wings and figuring out this puzzle. Meanwhile, I'm doing everything possible to get his attention by reading headlines off of a muted Pardon the Interruption.

Me: You know what? I really think Colorado will upset Kansas tonight.
Hubby: [eyes on the puzzle] No way. Not gonna happen.
Me: I really think so...wait, is the Colorado logo a buffalo with a CU on it?
Hubby: Yeah, and they aren't going to upset Kansas. Now, I know that this piece will fit in the middle, but what goes on top? [eats chicken wing]

I mean without missing a beat with his wooden puzzle!

Me: I'm just going to say it. I think LeBron James might be a better defender than Michael Jackson. I mean Michael Jordan.
Hubby: [Extreme puzzle concentration] Nobody is better than Michael Jordan; you're crazy.
Me: Well think about it. LeBron James is just such a good defender.
Hubby: I think these puzzle pieces to on top...

Later on Magic Mike came back over and helped Hubby with one last puzzle piece, then created the most beautiful pink balloon poodle. It was pretty much the best dinner ever.

Can anybody top the awesomeness of Beef 'O Bradys on Wednesday?

Memory Monday: How I got to the Sunshine State

I ran across a blog today that had a featured called Memory Monday, which focused on great, funny, touching or poignant memories. I thought it would be a great way to start the week, and I'm filled with memories.

I thought about this first one as I was getting out of the shower on Sunday night, NO THIS IS NOT A SCANDALOUS MEMORY. I recently found my big puffy robe I got a few Christmases ago from Mom and was going to throw it on while I tracked down my PJs. I started thinking about all the evenings I spent cuddled up in this robe back in WV. There isn't much I miss about cold winters, but occasionally I'll see a picture of a friend in a cute sweater or peacoat or awesome scarf and I'll think about how I haven't even unpacked my coats and it's mid-November and I'll think about all the cute blazers that I might not even get to wear this winter and I get a little sad, but it only lasts until the first batch of snowy weather pics pop up on Facebook and then I'm totally over it.

MEMORY MONDAY. Right. So.

The winter of 2008 wasn't a very good one for the Austin family. For reason I won't get into, hubby and I were living off one part time income. I had interviewed for the job I have now and had a great feeling about it, but you just never know. Interviews are like when you first start dating a guy and don't know if he likes you, so you want to call but then you get all wishy-washy and think that calling is going to totally ruin your chances with him. I wasn't about to contact my future boss with more than one follow-up email, so I was forced to just wait it out for two long, cold weeks.

I spent the mornings sleeping and the evenings packing while hubby was working at a TV station. We didn't know what was going to happen, but did know that we'd have to move. There was no opportunity for either one of us in WV and we both felt like our time there was over. I was packing everything I owned on a wing and a prayer. After hubby got home, we'd get into bed and watch approximately 3 hours of Cops. I think this is so we'd realize that it could be way worse. Thank you, Jesus, for Cops.

Looking back, I don't' know why I wasn't more terrified that the job wasn't going to work out, but I wasn't. The only thing I was terrified about was the that someone was going to break in to my house and take the packed boxes and that's because every day before my husband left, we watched a show on Discovery hosted by two ex-cons who told us exactly how robbers break into your house. Yeah, that was a super smart thing for me to do considering I had nothing else to worry about.


We woke up one chilly morning in January and out of habit I glanced at my phone to check the time. There was a call from Florida. My heart jumped.  I excitedly climbed out of bed and ran downstairs to check our answering machine, where my future boss had left a message.

"Hi Amanda, if you could please call me as soon as you can, I'd love to talk to you. Call me on my cell if you can't reach me in the office."

I mean, it had to be good news. He wouldn't call my home and my cell if it wasn't good news.

I nervously dialed the number and had the following conversation:

Boss: How's it going?
Me: Cold. It's really cold here! And snowy, but besides that I'm fine!
Boss: Well here's something to warm your spirits....we want to offer you the job.

There is only one time in my life I've been as excited as I was at that moment, and that was when hubby proposed. It wasn't the same "excited and nervous" as my wedding day or "excited and eager" like the night before a big vacation, but rather "filled with tremendous joy". I literally jumped up and down after I got off the phone. It was spectacular.

This is one of my favorite memories, mainly because of how he told me they chose me. It did warm my spirits in more ways than one: the thought of living in a state where it's warm almost all the time, and the thought that our lives would change dramatically.

I'd love to hear your memories. What's your favorite job related memory?

Publix BOGO day is my favorite day

One of the best things about living in the south is the abundance of Publix Super Markets. Inevitably, visitors who have never seen a Publix get a kick out of the name and the tagline, "Where shopping is a pleasure", but to me, Publix is serious business.

In my first months at work, my coworkers used to say I'd find "my Publix", the store closest to my house that I would get to know like the back of my hand, learn the names of all the cashiers and become great friends with the manager. And I'm all, but Publix is so much more expensive than Super Walmart and besides, that's totally lame. Who loves a supermarket that much?

The problem in the first few months was that the closest Super Walmart was 40 minutes away. I will shamefully admit that there were times we would spend almost an hour and a half on the road to drive to Super Walmart and back JUST to save a few bucks. Super Walmart is VERY CHEAP, so of course Publix seemed expensive to us, especially comparing brand name to brand name. Actually, Publix brand stuff was more than Great Value stuff, too. So we thought that was a sound financial decision.

And then I discovered BOGOS and it changed my life. And now I love a supermarket that much.

Every week, Publix has certain items that are buy one, get one free. And it's good stuff, too. Name brand cereals and cookies and frozen bagged meals. Yogurt and butter and Lays potato chips and my fav fav favorite, RANCH FLAVORED GOLDFISH CRACKERS. I could literally eat a bag of those in one sitting. Meaning I have really done that.

So we started clipping coupons and using them on BOGOS, which you can totally do AND a lot of times coupons are "buy 2 and get $1 off", and the BOGO counts as two. Every Thursday I log on to Publix.com, eagerly click on the BOGO link and wait in anticipation as the deals load on my screen. It's like Christmas morning. That's why I walk into work on Thursdays with a little skip in my step.

I started realizing that Publix was great for other things, too. Their deli is amazing, the meat and produce is always fresh and actually not that much more expensive. And the best part -- it's ridiculously convenient. I mean, I could actually walk to my Publix. I think the coolest thing about Publix is that the people are so nice there. Customer service is a huge priority for them, so there are employees crawling all over that store just dying to help you.

Once I was buying a BOGO and it rang up wrong. i noticed the mistake and told my cashier, and she said, oh, sorry about that, I'll fix it. Then I handed her a coupon for the BOGO item that she fixed and she said, "I don't think I can use this for a free item." I told her I'd used coupons before on BOGOs, and she said, "but it's the Publix promise." Noticing the confused look on my face, she explained further: if an item rings up incorrectly, Publix GIVES YOU THE ITEM FOR FREE. I'm not even joking. So you basically pay nothing for two products. I don't know about y'all, but that makes me want to shop there even more.

My friend Miranda recently posted about how she's reading a lot about how to save money, create a budget, etc. So in a round about way, this whole post is about saving money. I spend less than $250 on groceries each month. Hubby and I only eat out once a week, so that's breakfast, lunch and dinner every day on that price. It's all about shopping smart -- reading the circulars, clipping coupons and stocking up.

I hope to start posting ideas for saving money that I have regularly here, and also get ideas from  you guys! Thanks Miranda for starting this topic!

Mother nature is cooking us in her crock pot

I know that anyone up north who reads this will probably not even want to hear it, but you guys, it's SO HOT IN FLORIDA.

My friend at work heard a great explanation of why this phenomena is happening. Apparently there is a high pressure system that is just parked over Florida, and it's exciting the molecules and that makes them heat up dramatically, sort of like how a microwave works. So the entire state of Florida is being microwaved right now.

I honestly don't remember it being this hot the past two summers we've lived here, and it definitely wasn't this hot last October. I remember this time last year when we had a week long cold snap and there was a picture on the front page of the paper with kids in sweaters, and now I'm so unreasonably angry with those children for wearing sweaters.

Today we had an event at work that was outside. My boss planned it; he put lots of time and effort into making it perfect, but unfortunately was not able to plan the weather. So we sweated it out for like 5 hours. The had to rush order those paper fans so people could stay cool. It was a great turnout, and at least it didn't rain.

Looks like we're in for a few more sweltering days until I can start complaining about it being too cold.