At not-so-quite the last minute yesterday, Nate and I decided we wanted to go to the midnight schowing of “The Dark Knight.”  We had been thinking about it all week.  I mean, it’s a pretty big commitment.  It’s a weeknight, I had work the next day, it’s TWO AND A HALF HOURS LONG.  One really needed to get in the right mindset.  So, I went home after picking up our tickets yesterday afternoon and promptly watched “So You Think You Can Dance” on the dvr instead of taking a nap.  I’m a genius.

When we got our tickets the girl behind the counter was very stern in her orders to get to the theater by 10:30pm at the latest.  We were told, 1) There would be a huge line.  2) Parking would be an issue.  3) They’re seating people, not just letting them file in on their own. 

I scoffed at her instructions.  Parking would be an issues???  It’s the parking lot for a HUGE shopping center.  What do you mean “an issue,” lady?  It’s just a movie.  I did assume there would be a line and I was a little skeptical about the whole seating people because of time but whatever.  We got there at 10:15pm.

The line was beginning to wrap around the building.  However, parking was NOT an issue.  (Ha!  In your face, overdramatic ticket girl!)  We parked in the front rown and because we didn’t feel like standing, we sat in the car.  Other cars started to filter in and then the strangest thing happened.  People started hanging out by their cars… eating… playing frisbee… listening to their radios…  It was all so familiar… Why couldn’t I place it- OH MY GOSH.  PEOPLE ARE TAILGATING “THE DARK KNIGHT.”

People.  Tailgating.  A MOVIE.

I sat in the car in awe.  I mean, really?  That’s how excited you guys are to see this movie?  I mean, I’m excited to see it but I can probably say I’m not going to be excited when 8am rolls around the next morning.  Clearly, I’m not a dedicated fan.

At around 10:30 we got out and headed up to wait in line.  Except we didn’t have to.  (Once again… HA!  In your face, overdramatic ticket girl!)  We were ushered right in to a nearly empty theater with our pick of the seats (back row, dead center, if you’re interested) and we even made it without having to sit by any strangers.  There was an empty seat on each side of us.  Fantastic. 

I was starting to get excited.  These weirdo fanatics were giving off all this energy and dare I say, I started to get pretty freakin’ hyped up about seeing this movie.  At midnight, the lights dimmed… it was starting!!!

And then I promptly fell asleep.

The End.

Wait, wait, wait… I kid.  Well, kinda.  I did immediately fall asleep… for the first five minutes.  But then!  I woke up!  And Heath Ledger was there being all creepy and “Why so serious???” and I couldn’t hold it in.  I was awake.  I sat wide-eyed and alert through the entire thing.  Heath Ledger is BRILLIANT.  And I’m not even one of those hardcore fans…  I liked the guy.  Really sad that he died.  But when I say that he nailed this role, I’m not even slightly exaggerating.  I won’t be shocked if he gets nominated for an Oscar.  Seriously.

So, I suggest you go see it.  This weekend.  Get all up in the hype’s face.  Say, “I am a Batman fan and I am PROUD OF IT!”  Or maybe just show up quietly and take your seat in the back…  Either way, get your ass to the theater. It’s totally worth tolerating the fanboys in their costumes and their incessant clapping whenever something good happens… I promise.

Have you ever had one of those days that you think is going along perfectly and then some TOTAL jackass comes along and ruins it? Today was that day for me. I mentioned in my last post that I just purchased a new (to me) car. It’s a Nissan Altima and for the first time in my life, I actually love, love, LOVE my car. It’s fairly new (only had one other owner and is a 2007), has lots of little gadgets that I love (i.e. push button start, keyless remote, alarm system that can be set with the push of my thumb on the door handle, etc.), and it’s really the first “adult” car I feel like I’ve owned. My previous car was a Rodeo which I drove around town all through my partying days, heading to one club after another, picking up tons of friends, that sort of thing. The car before that was a Beetle, that I had through college and was a cute little girlie type car. This car? Just feels nice. Almost like a luxury car.

Today I come out of work and some asshole has hit my car. Dented it all to hell and left no note. Nothing. Paint all over the right side, huge dent, damaged. My new car is now flawed and I can’t even describe how angry it makes me. Obviously, there’s no way of finding out who did it because there are no witnesses. The policeman said it would be very unlikely that they would catch the person. So, now, I’m stuck with damage that will be enough to hurt me in my pocket but not enough for my deductible to cover. I’m probably not even going to file a claim. So aggravated and disappointed in people in general.

Why do people have to suck?

*Edited to add after Emily’s comment: Mwahahaha!!  The pansy ass came forward after nightmares of being hauled off to the big house!!  He left a letter at the front desk saying “he heard people talking about a car being hit in the parking lot but it never dawned on him that it was him.”  UHHHHH… How many cars get hit in a parking lot a day, pal?  You think it’s a pretty common occurrence?  BECAUSE IT’S NOT.

I was on vacation the week before last and the very first day was spent lounging by the pool and washing my car.  (My vacation was all the way to my grandma’s house.  You know, the one right down the street from my house.)  Evie, of course, was all about helping me wash my car.  (Oh by the way, I got a new car.  Yep.  Said sayonara to the old Rodeo and picked myself up a 2007 Nissan Altima.  It’s pretty freakin’ awesome and the gas mileage is LOVERLY.)  Since the whole washing of the car was going to involve a water hose and a bucket filled with soapy water, I knew there was no reason for Evie to wear any clothes.  Well, she had her undies on, but that’s it.  And it was in the front of my mom’s house.  I’m classy like that.

She basically stayed in one spot just going over and over it with a sponge.  It was keeping her thoroughly entertained as I moved on down the car.  She was having fun splashing in the water and scrubbing the tire.  (Kids: Great for manual labor you don’t want to do yourself!)

But then, I went around to start on the other side of the car.  I could see her through the windows and hear her giggling and splashing away.  And then all of a sudden, silence…  Whenever Evie is quiet (which is approximately 1 hour out of every 24) I can almost bet money that she’s up to no good.  (I.E.  The time behind the chair… Not just playing hide and go seek.  Nope.  Drawing all over the back of the chair.  Oh and those pen marks on my door frame in the office?  The concentration it required caused complete and utter silence.)  At first, I panicked.  What if she’d run off while I diligently scrubbing away?!  What if some criminal mastermind had swept her away?!  So I jetted around to the other side of the car and found this…

Soap angels.

No one can say she’s not creative.

It’s fairly embarassing when the Jimmy John’s delivery guy tells you that he was worried about you because he hadn’t delivered to you yet this week…

Hey, man, it’s only Thursday!!  I still had tomorrow!  No reason to jump to conclusions!

Some people…

I make it a point to not talk about Evie’s adventures in potty training.  I, personally, don’t like reading about other kids’ bathroom habits so I just assume no one wants to read about Evie’s.  I especially doubt that any readers I may have without children have the slightest bit of interest in this topic.  Plus, I highly doubt Evie will want the entire world to know how many accidents she had in one day, how many different outfits she ruined, or whatever.  BUT, in order for me to tell you this little story, I have to say that Evie has been almost completely potty trained for a couple of months.  She almost always tells you when she has to go and lots of times just gets nervous that she may have to go and tells you to take her anyways.

For the fourth, my grandma had her usual cookout and then afterwards my mom, stepdad, me and Evie all went to my stepdad’s work to watch the fireworks that were being set off in downtown.  My stepdad’s good friend owns the business so he was there with friends and family.  Most of the people were older and the older ladies all fell in love with Evie immediately.  When I walked in, one woman came up to Evie and started to talk to her. 

Lady: Hi!

Evie: Hi!  How-you? 

Lady: Well, I’m good!  How are you?

Evie: Meh, I gotta poop.

Awesome, baby.  Awesome.

But hey - at least she told me and there were no accidents.  Hope everyone’s holiday was wonderful!

I took Evie to the Newport Aquarium on Saturday because it was supposed to be rainy here in Lexington and I didn’t want to be stuck inside all day with an overactive child and have nothing to entertain her with.  So, off to the aquarium we went.  The ride up there was fine.  She was content watching movies in the back and there was barely any traffic to get in our way.  My only concern was the lack of napping that took place…  She’d been up since 7:30am… That’s almost an hour and a half earlier than when she normally gets up.  I should have just turned the car around then…. But noooooooo!  We had driven the hour and half to the aquarium and by God, I was going to see the Frog Bog!

Apparently everyone else in a 100 mile radius had that same intention. 

I’ve never been SO annoyed with people in my entire life.  (Well, maybe that one day at the pool…)  There was a line to see every.  single.  exhibit.  Even the ones like catfish!  Who the hell wants to see catfish?!  Why aren’t you moving along to some other more exotic exhibit?! 

To annoy me.  I’m sure of it.

Once you DID get up to actually look at the particular exhibit you’d waited at least 20 minutes to see, you had some jerk breathing down your neck silently (but noticeably!) willing you on to the next line.  Plus, it seemed to me that their air conditioning wasn’t working like it should have and I had sweat rolling down my back 15 minutes after stepping foot into the place.  Finally, after an hour of pushing and shoving and dodging and grumbling, we made it to the Frog Bog.

And Evie was terrified of the frogs in their aquariums.  So we had to leave.

I’m really not sure she’s my daughter.

However, fake frogs were perfectly fine.

In fact, she could’ve stayed here all day.  But let’s point out that the actual living and breathing frogs were a mere five feet to our left…  Right, right.  But fake ones are better.

And this, ladies and gents, was taken approximately 30 seconds before she had her 4,268th meltdown of the day.  This one was because I told her we couldn’t listen to the damn frogs all day.  (Ok, I didn’t say that.  Well, I did.  Minus the expletive.  And I may or may not have said it through clenched teeth.) 

I’m not sure I’m ever taking her out in public again.

With summer comes more time to venture outside with friends and whatnot.  That’s what sucks so bad about winter… That whole being stuck inside because your fingers will fall off from frostbite thing?  Not really how I like to get down.  This past winter seemed exceptionally long and I think that might have something to do with me getting to a patio at every chance I get…  With patios and beers, come pictures of friends being idiots…

You’d think we were in some dirty back alley wouldn’t you?  What- with the whole sitting on the fire escape stairs and all?  Nope.  Just a local Irish bar.  (You know, come to think of it… Lexington has an extreme amount of Irish bars…  Weird…)

Pondering the meaning of life- holy shit!  Have I always had that odd bump on my nose?!  Maybe I can play this up like an allergic reaction.  Either that or always insist peope photograph me from my good side…  Which is… I don’t know.  I may not even have a good side.

First backyard party of the year and it was deLIGHTful!

Same party…  For some reason I was pretty big on self-portraits that night… 

Myself, Tyler and Colleen… Colleen looks exactly like I felt the next day.

Not really sure what I’m doing to my friend, Dave, here but I can tell you he’s probably pretty scared… 

Dave, Becky and I had like a 15 minute photoshoot in the middle of the very busy patio at McCarthy’s…  We didn’t pay any attention to the other patrons who were trying to grab some sort of frosty beverage.  Nope.  Not at all.  The only thing we cared about was looking good for our photoshoot…

Ok, that’s all for now but with the new cardreader, I’m sure I’ll have some new ones in a few days.  The weekend is coming up and I will have the camera out…

So, guess what!

Anybody?

Ok, I’ll just tell you.  I finally broke down and bought a card reader for my camera…  Yep, yep.  That’s right.  You are about to be bombarded with pictures.  I might split it up into two posts since there are quite a lot of photos but you never know…

Has anyone noticed the lack of Evie pictures?  Who am I kidding??  Of course you have.  Anyways, I got weirded out a while back because someone kept googling pre.tty. gi.rl.s. and they kept clicking on this one particular picture of Evie and it completely weirded me out and I got all “Perverts on the web!!  Never again!”  But now, I think I’m kind of past that.  Plus, I miss you guys telling me how awesome my kid is.  So, I present you with Evie Rose…

                                

Alllllll the way back on Easter morning… Well, technically, it’s the Saturday before Easter because the Easter Bunny has to go to church on Sunday morning and Saturdays just work with his schedule better.

                                 

Out of everything she got with the shopping cart and all the little plastic food for her kitchen, the stupid little wind-up chick was her favorite.  She carried it around for weeks, took it to bed with her, everything.

                                

Emily, my friend Nikki and I took Evie and Nikki’s little boy Tate to a local fair that had some kiddie rides and whatnot.  This train went around a track a couple of times and I know you can’t tell from her expression, but this was the greatest experience of her life so far.  Tate, however, was less than enthused.

                                

We busted out the sprinkler one day in late May because my grandmother hadn’t opened her pool yet.  That was about as close as Evie got.  And she didn’t so much run as she would stand very stiffly and shake before darting back to me.  Let’s also note that she HATED the slip ‘n slide.  I’m really not sure she’s my child.

                                 

She was, however, a big fan of these empty flower pots.  Looking back, this looks slightly dangerous… 

                                     

This is what happens when I tell her she can wear whatever she wants in order for us to make it to our destination sometime during this millenium.  Thank God I only gave her this option the day we were just going over to my grandma’s.

                                    

All I can think of is “Boots with the furrrrrrrr!”  That’s probably wrong of me.

                              

This is how we watch TV at our house.  There’s no need for comfy chairs and couches.  We’re hardcore in the sense that we like to lay around on uncomfortable wooden tables.

                                  

Typical afternoon at my house.  Evie puts on every article of clothing of mine that she can find, grabs whatever bag is in her reach and tells me she’s leaving.  I just say “Sayonara!” and send her on her merry way.  Which is just to the living room. 

                           

Do not judge me and the fact that I make her wear this nerdy little life-jacket bathing suit…  It totally keeps her afloat.  Thus, giving me more leeway to not pay attention while I’m working on my tan.  (I kid, I kid…)

                           

But to be honest, it’s not like she gets in the pool all that much.  For some reason the water hose is just so much better to play with.

So there you have it.  A few pictures of Evie Rose… But now that I have my trusty card reader you’ll get to see more of her on a regular basis and really, isn’t that what the free world wants?  More Evie Rose?  If not, it should be.

(In the history of bad decisions.)

 

The other night I joined some friends out at a local bar to catch up, chill, whatever.  The bar is right on the street and they have tables and umbrellas up so you can sit out front and people watch and whatnot.  However, when we got there all of those tables were taken and we were forced to the back.  The back is literally in a back alley.  They try to make it seem like you’re possibly at a bar in Ireland with the decorations, but alas, I knew good and well we were in plain old Kentucky.  There was no denying it.

It was just my friends and myself in the back alley when a guy in a wheelchair rolled out with us to have a cigarette.  Obviously, the man was paralyzed and only had really good movement in his right arm. The alley was a tight squeeze so he was kind of on the other side from us.  He politely asked if he could borrow a lighter and I obliged and grabbed a lighter off of my table and went to toss it to him.

Did you catch that?

I was going to throw it to him.

He couldn’t have caught it!  I was going to launch a lighter to an almost-quadriplegic.  Thankfully, my friend Tyler quickly grabbed the lighter from my hand as I raised my arm to throw it.  He looked at me, gave me the “Wow, you are a real asshole” look and took the lighter to the gentleman.

Good thing.  Once he got over there he asked Tyler to light the cigarette for him because he didn’t want to drop it and not be able to get the lighter.  Yeah, just to, you know, rub salt in the wound.

Seriously.  Almost the worst decision ever made.

(In the history of bad decisions.)

Dear Driver of the Grand Prix,

You have now furthered any evidence I might have of people who drive Grand Prixs drive like assholes.  You cut me off at least four times and I wasn’t even in the fast lane.  I was in the righthand lane doing 65mph.  That’s five over, in case you didn’t notice.  Also, all cars come equipped with turn signals for a reason, douchebag.  THANKS.

Sincerely,

Whitney

 

Dear Girl at the Pool,

You are annoying to me because I don’t feel like it is necessary for you to walk back and forth from one side of the pool to the other that many times.  Yes, you are skinny.  (In my opinion, kind of anorexic skinny, but whatever.)  I’m sure guys are all over those astounding ribs curves.  However, your bikini?  Didn’t freakin’ match!  Seriously, you had on hot pink bottoms and a bright white top.  It had potential to be cute but really just looked like you might have forgotten the top to your suit and decided to just use your bra instead.  Also?  That scowl you had plastered on your face only made my desire to punch you in the throat that much stronger.  Next time try a smile.  And seriously, those bleach blonde streaks on top of your super dark hair?  Just no.  Maybe in 2001.  Not in 2008.  That is all.

Sincerely,

Whitney

 

Dear Lady At The Pool,

Your constant slathering on of suntan oil onto your already COMPLETELY LEATHER-LIKE SKIN annoys me.  If you aren’t a walking advertisement for skin cancer, I’m not sure what is.  You had actually just gone past brown and were now working on that deep purple glow only the truly dedicated can achieve.  When you walked past I was almost certain your legs made that same sound that leather couches make when someone sits on them.  Classy.  Keep that up all summer and I bet you win some kind of award.

Sincerely,

Whitney

 

Dear Majority Of The Kids At The Pool,

Hi.  Yeah, see this little person next to me?  She’s my daughter.  She’s only two and a half so she’s still kind of on the babyish side so you pushing her so you can go down that effing retarded slide for the 15 billionth time is really unnecessary.  She’s not in the way.  She’s actually trying to stay out of your way by playing in this little sprinkler area over to the side but since you insist and barreling your way through like a damn herd of cattle you think pushing her is ok.  So, here’s the thing, the next time I’m at the pool and one of you even comes close to her, I will punch you in the neck.  And THEN, if any of your moms say anything to me, I will then punch them in the neck.  That is all.

Sincerely,

Whitney

 

Dear Moms Of The Majority Of The Kids At The Pool,

Refer to the previous letter.  And then teach your kids some fucking manners.

Sincerely,

Whitney

 

Dear Girl Driving The Busted Buick,

I’m happy you graduated.  Really, I am.  I’m even happy your friends got all excited and wrote all over your car in that bright white shoe polish.  However, I’m not excited about that fact that on your trunk you or one of your friends wrote, “West Coast, N**gas!”  There are several reasons this bothers me. 

a) You are WHITE.  Very white.  In fact, so white your name could be Buffy for all I know.  It’s not cool to drop the n-bomb.  It’s even less cool when you are a little white girl.  People get beat up for that shit.  I feel like someone should inform you that your car is most likely going to get keyed or the tires are going to get slashed if you don’t wash that off within the next 15 minutes.  Just a heads up!

b) We don’t live on the West coast.

c) We don’t live on the East coast.

d) We live in KENTUCKY.  This is not really near ANY coast.  Might wanna brush up on your geography.

That is all.

Sincerely,

Whitney

 

Dear Tattooed Girl,

I get what you’re doing here.  I get that you’re trying to make a statement and be all Emo or Scene or something else retarded with your hot pink-tipped hair.  However, it is lost on me.  That tattoo on your back that’s suppose to look like your back is all laced up with black ribbon?  I’m just gonna go ahead and say you’re REALLY going to regret that when the ol’ 80th birthday comes around.  And those guns on your shoulders?  They might work if you didn’t have a tattoo of a My Pretty Pony running on a rainbow right underneath them.  Kind of takes away some of the edginess, don’t you think?  And seriously, get a real haircut.  Your bangs in your eyes are pissing me off.  It might seem cool to you but really all I’m thinking is, “I know she can’t see to drive with those things.”  So, in short, you’re not as cool as you think.  Thought you should know.  Thanks!

Sincerely,

Whitney