kayla aimee: only slightly neurotic

This is why no one takes me seriously

For the past year Jeff and I have been sharing one car while we saved up to buy a new one. This was okay when we worked at the same company. It was also okay when I worked from home. But once I had to drive to work? Not okay.

This is because Jeff and I work 45 minutes apart. In opposite directions. Which meant that I've been spending over two hours every day driving Jeff to work, driving myself to work, picking Jeff up from work and driving home. I only work 15 minutes from home. Do you know what I could do with all that extra time in my day? I could bake brownies or watch a Toddlers and Tiaras marathon or clean my house. Just kidding. I don't clean my house.

The point of this story is that we finally bought a new car. I slid into the passenger side for the first time and do you know what happened? A little light lit up on the dashboard to let us know that the car? It was turning off the passenger side airbag. BECAUSE THE CAR THOUGHT THAT I WAS A CHILD. Even the CAR thinks I look like a 12 year old.

Apparently this shirt is much more flattering

Our 2 year old niece, Hayley, was visiting the other day and I decided to make a video of her talking. She currently calls Jeff "Deff" and me "Tay" and you should hear her say the word coaster. Actually, that's what I was trying to get on tape, her saying the word coaster, because she pronounces it "Cose (pause) TOESSSSS" and it sends me into fits of giggles every time.

In the middle of the video she looks at me, pulls down the front of my shirt and yells "BEWBIES!"

I was momentarily stunned, not so much that she said the word but the fact that she looked down my shirt and STILL THOUGHT I HAD BREASTS.

Because, you know, the last time a child made a comment about my boobs, it was to inquire as to why I didn't have any.

I think it goes without saying that Hayley is officially my favorite.

It's really, really hard to get staples out of your hair, by the way.

Today I am bummed. Because today we were supposed to close on our house. Only the closing? It got pushed back. I'm also bummed because I thought my outfit looked really cute today and then I realized that I am wearing the exact same thing that I wore in my yearbook picture. The one that was taken in the sixth grade. Luckily, that was not the day that my mother sent me to school wearing a catsuit. With spandex shorts over it.

On second thought, life could be worse. I could be wearing the catsuit.

In case you were wondering, this is what it looks like when I'm bummed. It's also what I look like when I realize I'm wearing the same jumper/shirt combo that I wore in middle school, back when people threw staples in my hair.

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I realized that if you read in a feed, you don't see when I update the other blog. Click here to read the most recent post at Shifting Sand.

On the other hand, this Wild Cherry Capri Sun really hits the spot

I'm on my lunch break as I type this. I went to Publix this morning for my daily breakfast of a toasted blueberry bagel* when I spotted this taunting me from the middle aisle.

That's right people. That is a Lunchable. I know. I can't help myself, I love tiny little pieces of balogna and cheese stacked on crackers. I also enjoy the occassional fried SPAM sandwich. Nothing says "I once lived in a trailer" than a delicate taste for SPAM. Sometimes (when I'm home alone and no one is around to mock me) I fry the balogna, slather it with mayonaise and pretend it is SPAM. Don't give me that look, I have great memories of living in the trailer and eating SPAM is right up there with playing with getting mauled by baby geese in the creek out back.

The fact that I'm eating a Lunchable for lunch now that I am a ridiculous health food junkie is wrong in and of itself. But then I opened it to find it was missing the lunch meat. So not only did I not win a trip to the Ultimate Summer Camp, as adverstised on front of the box next to the tiny little Butterfinger that persuaded me to buy said Lunchable, but I basically paid $3 for crackers and cheese.

* I realize that my life would be easier if I owned a toaster and could toast my own dang bagels.

The most commonly uttered phrase in our house

"Jeff, the internet says..."

as in "Jeff, the internet says I should give my cat away" or "Jeff, the internet thinks we should go with the freezer on the bottom."

I wonder what our marriage would be like without the internet. Specifically, without my blog. It's been around since before we were a couple and many of you watched as I stumbled into our courtship while recovering from a broken heart. You helped me choose flowers and music for the day I walked down the aisle. You aided me in identifying ingredients in my first attempts at cooking for my new husband. When that meal nearly poisoned said husband, you taught me about the BRAT diet and possibly saved my marriage. Essentially internet, you watched me grow up.

In the years since I’ve had the blog, it’s become a virtual sounding board for me. It’s not that I’m incapable of making my own decisions. It’s just that it’s so comforting to come to this screen and use a few keystrokes to learn what worked for other people and connect with them about life in general.

Plus, I just have lots of funny stories to share. Like about how I have to pretend I have a child every time I go to Publix now. It’s a bit of a quandary. But more about that tomorrow. Today I’m going to look at refrigerators. Thanks, y’all!