I am moving back to North Carolina.

The choice to move back to NC was extremely hard for me. Through an unexpected series of events, an opportunity came available to me that would offer me closer proximity to my family and also incredible career growth. Since my attitude about my career has always been that while I don’t care about having a career, as long as I’m not at home with babies, I might as well have one, this choice should have seemed easy. Here is a company that has offered to move me and grow me in my career. A company where I am on a first name basis with the executives. A company that has promised me financial stability for as long as I want to stay. A company that molded me as an employee fresh out of college and has continued to encourage my success, even after I left a few years ago to pursue personal dreams. A company that is letting me change career paths without making me start entry level again. You would think the decision would be easy. Even though I never moved here with thoughts of permanence, the choice was harder than I was prepared for. I’ve only been here for a year and a half and I have come to love this place in a way I'm not even sure Taylor Swift could put into words. All of a sudden I have thoughts clouding my mind and perhaps my judgment. What if my time here isn’t over. What if I’m jumping the gun moving back already. What if the person I am now doesn’t fit in with the friends and the life I still have in NC. I tried to remove the emotions out of my decision in order to make it that much clearer. But what if what seems like the best choice isn’t the right choice. Can you really remove emotions from choices that will affect the rest of your life.

I don’t know what I can say about this place that I haven’t already said. I know I am extremely blessed to have been able to move to a place where I knew not a soul and have the experiences and the time I’ve had here. I love the smell of the air every morning when I cross the ditch to go to work and the year round taste of sunscreen. I love sitting on the water and eating mini thanksgiving treats at Barbara Jeans. I love weekend breakfasts spent at Ellen’s with an early bird special #2 and lunches at Angie’s. I love Monday Bachelorette Parties with Tracie’s good cookin’ (shoot, I love any night at Tracie’s visiting with her). I love saying “hey neighbor” to the porch below me and knowing I’ll get a response back. I love seeing Pete roll around in the sun on our porch and stretching (even though he is a cat, his joys are my joys so stop hating on me). I love Sunday nights at Palms, watching the sunset over the garden while praising my Lord. But you know what I love most? I love most knowing that no matter what silly thing I want to do, I have a security blanket of friends who will jump up and go, no matter what. The Lord met me where I was with these friends. I am so grateful that I feel as though my heart might burst open. I want to take each of them home with me in my pocket and store them in my treasure chest so I can play with them whenever I want. And I want to leave myself here with them so I don’t miss out on anything and they don’t forget me. The last time I moved, I felt like throwing my middle finger in the air as I drove out of town (and I may or may not have done just that). I knew I’d miss bits and pieces of the life that I knew, but I was not divided at all on that decision. Moving was a breath of fresh air and I wanted to draw in wholly that breath for as long as I could. I am a big fan of change, but this time, change has strings attached.

It’s 72 degrees today so I rode up to the beach to bid farewell to the sand and the surf. I’ve got my freshly pedicured gangly bots in the water. As the waves crash around my summer coral color, and even as I think about all these things, I can’t deny the surge of excitement that is surrounding my person right now (side note to anyone who knows me at all: even after a year and a half of living at the beach, I still don’t love the water). This is my last weekend in my beloved PVB. I move in just a few days. I have been feeling so overwhelmed these past few weeks with finishing up projects at work, spending time with the people I have grown to love deeply here all while coordinating a move to another state. To a city I am familiar with but yet out of sorts with all at the same time. But today, this last Saturday here, I don’t want anything more than this: to wiggle my toes back and forth from water to sand and soak up as much of this life I can.

(Additionally, it’s a nice reminder to know that I have brains in my head, feet in my shoes and I can steer myself in any direction I choose. I know what I know and as long as I don’t forget to be dexterous and deft, as long as I don’t mix my right foot with my left, it’s 98.34% guaranteed I will succeed.)

Don'tcha Dunkin'?

This morning, while on the phone with my friend Emily, I got the urge for a donut. Earlier, while drying my hairdo, I had the urge for a sausage biscuit from the McDonalds, but after hearing a segment on one of the morning news shows about how un-meaty fast food meat is, I decided to stick with healthy and have an oatmeal breakfast of champions when I got to work. However, while driving into work, I decided the dunkin' it would be.

Did you know that the Dunkin' doesn't put it's donuts on the menu? They have bagels, coffee, and breakfast sandwhiches galore but not a single type of donut listed. Seeing that I have a history of getting along splendidly with drive thru workers, you know this went over well with me.

Dunkin' Man: What can I get for you?
Merdeezy: I want a chocolate glazed donut please.
Dunkin' Man: chocolate all the way through?
Merdeezy: Well, I don't know. I don't see any donuts listed on the menu!
Dunkin' Man: That's because they're not there.
Merdeezy: How am I supposed to know what kind of donut I want then if they aren't there?
Dunkin' Man: I don't know ma'am. Most people just know.
Merdeezy: I do NOT know. but i DO know that I want a chocolate cake donut with chocolate icing.
Dunkin' Man: that's a chocolate glazed donut like you just ordered.

you can tell this conversation was about to get out of control. I was thisclose to telling him I was from North Cackalacky and the Krispy K would NEVER treat me like this. Of course, they also would never not have what they are known for on their menu. I mean, it's Dunkin' DONUTS so why don't they put DONUTS on their menu? Is this some form of false advertising? I didn't go to Dunkin' Breakfast. I went to Dunkin' Donuts.

I really wanted to stamp my foot and poke my bottom lip out and suck my thumb, but I thought about how my coworker told me yesterday that I eat like an 8 year old and decided I shouldn't act like one too.

So I just said "yes, that is what I'd like. and a small sweet tea. and a blueberry donut too."

and all was right with the world. dumb dunkin' donut.

just in case. one day.

Whenever my mom would find things in her kitchen she no longer needed, she would put them to the side to give to Goodwill (I write this like this type of stuff doesn’t still go on). She would also tell us kids to sort through our belongings and add to her pile. My dad would always pick through our gathered up items and select a few things to keep. For years we wondered WHY he would needed the things we no longer needed. He would always reply with “you might need it one day!” before hauling it up to the attic. Some men have a man cave, a war room or a garage. My dad? He has a garage AND an attic. The garage has always been his room (I mean, it’s a given that the man get the garage since the lady gets the rest of the house), but I think he has always secretly loved his attic more. He can plunder and store things and organize and no one can see him to make fun or tease him about it. Not that we would ever do that, but just in case, he’s hidden upstairs in his attic. I never went up in the attic much because it was hot in the summer, cold in the winter and I didn’t want to get splinters in my feet. That all changed when I got ready to move into my first apartment.

I was telling my parents some of the things I had put on my list to buy with the first few of my real grownup job paychecks. Silverware, a tv cabinet, a toaster, some nice pots and pans, a flower vase. Dad swooped in and saved the day, and my bank account, when he said “oh, you should go to the attic. I think there are some of those things up there.” Little did I know he had an entire STORE in his attic. Shelving units had been put up and everything was nicely lined up so that you could browse with ease. He even said I could take things and try them and return them if I decided they didn’t suit me. He had boxes labeled so I would know what would peek my interest and what wouldn’t (children’s books? No thanks. Dynamite? Yes please). I found everything I was looking for, and more, including a rotary phone THAT I STILL HAVE TO THIS DAY. It’s great when you need to call 911.

Over the years, the items my dad has collected have gotten more and more…interesting. French fry baskets from the burger shop (in case he ever has a French frying contest?). Running shoes (in case he wakes up one day a Nigerian and decides to win a marathon?). Jelly jars (it’s no lie that my dad probably would create THE JAM of all jams). I mean, you name it, if it’s strange and comes in multiples, there’s a chance my dad collects it. And harbors it in his store in the attic. Just in case you ever need it.

This is all background to what I am about to share with you. The other day, I went to a birthday lunch at a local dive here in town that has been featured on “Diners, Drive Ins and Dives.” Despite the fact that EVERYTHING is fried and everything tastes exactly the same (makes for an easy kitchen clean up at the end of the day when you’ve only got one giant pot to clean), it was a great experience. Everything was served on Styrofoam, so you could tell this dive was concerned with keeping up with the Joneses when it came to protecting the environment. One of the Styrofoam items really caught my eye. The platters of choice were these matte black Styrofoam trays. They were perfectly shaped and sized and just really cute. I immediately took the cleanest ones and stacked them up. I said to my friend Emily: “Emily, give me your plate. I need it.” “What do you need it for?” “In case I want to be a painter and this could be my paint bucket.” After having everyone stare at me like I had horns growing out my head, Emily said “but Meredith. Are you a painter? What would you paint?” I just looked at her in disbelief for questioning me. But then I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in disbelief in the mirror. IN CASE I WANT TO BE A PAINTER? Anyone who knows me knows I absolutely LOATHE painting. I haven’t the time or the patience for it and would hire someone in a heartbeat to paint my house before I would paint it. Had I just tried to justify why I needed a stack of Styrofoam
trays? Why yes, yes I had.

I have written before about the magnet I gave my mama that says “mirror mirror on the wall, I’m like my mother after all.” Well, perhaps it needs to be changed. It should read:

Mirror mirror on the wall
I like to collect things and suppose this means
I’m a lot like my dad after all.

Go Bird Go

So, I’m not sure tweeting is for me. I like birds and all (but please, don’t ask me about the time I babysat my neighbor’s bird and the bird keeled over and I blamed it on the maid), but this tweeting stuff might really be for the birds.

Tweet #1. (remember my secret crush on Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds?) “I’m only on Twitter because I wanted to say hi to @gublernation. Every night I stay up way past my bedtime because of you!”

Tweet #2. (if you came to my 21st birthday redo bar crawl party, you will know that I love beet farmers). “@RainnWilson: getting rick rolled has its perks but mainly it just hurts your back.”

Additionally, I’ve started following the Kardashians, Justin Bieber, Usher, Rick Astley, Paula Abdul, and some others. I’m even following a man in a blue speedo. But I have several concerns with twitter. I have some randos following me to start with. I don’t know them. And because I am Mike Jones, to them I say “you don’t know me!” Apparently, I can make my twitter private, but how are all the movie stars going to follow me if I am private? So, won’t be doing that. I don’t want any celeb to think I don’t want their love or that I am too exclusive to include them. Randos it is! Secondly, of the two tweets I have made, I have not been responded to nor retweeted. This makes a girl like me nervous for I have put myself out there and have essentially been rejected. Were my tweets not funny enough? Is my profile pic not pretty enough? Did I come on too strong? Why am I not getting any responses?! Who do they think they are that they don’t have to respond to me!

Tweeting is starting to sound like dating…first I’m insecure and then I’m angry. and here I am still a freakin’ nervous squirrel because I’m not getting the attention I need. And I can’t stop singing that song “Rockin’ Robin.” (tweet tweet. Oh rockin’ robin, we’re really gonna rock tonight.)

Remember this show? I think they were on to something. My coworker agrees.

Me: I hear Fargo, ND has a lot of single men.

Coworker: So does Alaska.

Me: Oh yeah! remember that show?

Coworker: Yeah! It was awhile ago. I mean, it's pretty there. If Sarah Palin could be governor, so could I.

Me: I mean shoot, we could hang out with her! and see Russia from our backyard!

Coworker: If I'm not married by the time I'm 32, I'm moving to Alaska and making it happen.

Me: We would be hot commodities in Alaska. And I bet Fargo, ND too.

Coworker: I am not moving to Fargo, North DAKOTA. but Alaksa, heck yeah.

Me: again, we'd be hot commodities in Alaska. We might need to make this happen.

Coworker: I said if I'm not married by the time I'm 32, it WILL be happening.

Concerning Stalkers (but not me of course)

There are a few factoids you should know about me.
1. I love Jessica simpson. Always have, always will. And I completely get why she thought chicken of the sea would be chicken.
2. I love justin bieber. I am a belieber baby and I will glad wake him up daily; he won’t need no starbuck (wait, that’s Luda but you get my point).
3. I have a weekend crush on my neighbor. He peeks my interest with his cases of beer cans strewn about his porch, his woman of the day and his job that he won’t talk about.
4. I am also a bit crazy. I know, that seems a bit off, but I am. Know how I know? Please see the below excerpts from two different G-chat conversations I’ve had just this morning.

me: i signed up for twitter so i could communicate with spencer reid from criminal minds
betty22getty: oooh wow...
I got nothin' on tha
that*
me: i mean, slightly stalkerish
betty22getty: only slightly though
betty22getty: so did anything exciting happen after dinner last night?
me: spied on my neighbor who had a girl on his porch
then just went to bed
me: could i sound like ANYMORE of a stalker?
betty22getty: I mean you COULD
but then I would probably be concerned
me: sheesh

me: i love spencer reid though
i want to marry him
Natalie: he's so amart
me: do we think he's really that smart in person or just on tv?
he talks like he's smart all the time
and i love him
and his long hair
Natalie: hmm i dont know
me: i wonder how i can meet him
i need to find his fan club
Natalie: i just googled him and his real name is Matthew Gubler
and he use to be a fashion model
me: i found some facts about his character.
he is a genius
he graudated high school at age 12
he hold phds in math, chemistry and engineering
Natalie: haha.. i just read that the real guy's mom was the first woman to serve as nevada's republican state chairman
me: he can read 20,000 words per minute and doesnt have email
HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO EMAIL HIM
Natalie: that is the character!
NOT THE REAL GUY
whoa.. sorry
me: hahahaha
i like how he wears his gun on a hoslter
*holster
Natalie: apparently his character gets killed on the show
that's really sad
me: WHAT
Natalie: i havent seentaht one
me: he gets tortured
what episode
Natalie: An episode of his show Criminal Minds which ended in his character Spencer Reid staring down the barrel of a gun, received the highest ratings in the show's history (by episode) at over 25 million viewers.E214
it doesnt say episode number
me: omg
im so sad
i found his twitter
he's funny
i need to get twitter
i will only follow him
he has an iphone
which means we can facetime each other
I wish the Hammer museum in LA was actually the M.C Hammer museum
9:16 AM Jan 14th via Twitter for iPhone
i tihnk he's my soul mate
Natalie: lol
me: i am going to sign up for twitter
and follow him, justin bieber, jessica simpson and zac efron
Natalie: haha nice
and you can "tweet"
me: ok i am set up
and following
i am going to tweet him
me: i just tweeted him
ooo lah lah
Natalie: ooo lala

here's to best friends who make you feel normal by entertaining you with these types of conversations.

Snuggly Snuggle Bear

This past weekend, I attended a Snuggie Bar Crawl. I was so excited to have an excuse to purchase a Snuggie (and to freely snuggle whomever I saw fit). I bought the only one left in Target and much to my surprise, it was an even better deal than anticipated as it had been returned and repacked, thus making it a whoppin’ 10 bucks. Now, I’m not sure what other Snuggies look like, but I AM sure that I would have selected this one from the masses if I had been given the choice. As soon as I had draped myself in my Snuggie (which by the way my phone kept auto correcting to spell “snuggle” in txts messages thereby making it even funnier and probably good material for texts from last night…"WHAT is a snuggle party?!"), I knew it was going to be a fabulous night. I quickly learned the following facts about life whilst wearing a snuggle.

1. Life in a snuggle causes you to sweat in nooks and crannies you weren’t aware you owned.
2. If you don’t belt your snuggle, you risk tripping over your feet. If you do belt your snuggle, you risk looking like a shepard.
3. You will hear the “eff” word a lot whilst people try to determine exactly who you think you are that you can wear your bathrobe to the bar.
4. You will be hit on more than you’ve ever been hit on before. Something about being wrapped in a giant blanket apparently turns men on.
5. If you are lucky like me, your snuggle will have a secret pocket that allows you to hit on yourself. Success for everyone!
6. Dance offs in a snuggle are a) so much harder, b) so much hotter and 3) so much funnier. Baking a cake already requires so much skill and snuggles can really jeopardize that skill.
7. Snuggles offer supreme comfort. You can wear nothing underneath, or be fully dressed underneath. Either way, you’re going to be comfortable.
8. Snuggles allow you to judge. All those other girls may look cuter in their heels, short skirts and boostiyay tops, but that whole getup screams high maintenance. A girl in a snuggle screams I am ready for bed which in turn tells potential suitors that you are their kind of date. They don’t have to do anything to impress you because you clearly could not care less about impressing them.
9. Snuggles allow you to have multiple personality disorder. I looked like an hippie Egyptian when the night started, and like a sweaty hippie trash snuggleopolous at the end of the night.
10. To expound upon point 8, being already dressed in a snuggle when you get home means you can walk over to your neighbor’s house and fall asleep on his couch. And he doesn’t even have to worry you’re going to be cold. Because you won’t be. At all.

is a dream really a wish your heart makes?

you know the song...Cinderella is telling her animal friends to keep dreaming and never give up. I personally believe dreams are your subconcious' way of working things out. However, I'm pretty sure there is nothing to work out about my dream from last night.


The Situation and I were having a sleepover. We ate cookies in bed, read bedtime stories to one another and then had a hot and heavy makeout sesh. At one point, I called him a jerk and he got upset with me. Told me he wasn't a jerk like everyone thinks. The whole time, my mom and some kid from my church youth group were in the kitchen. Weird, weird weird. I have no idea what this dream means other than perhaps I am secretly attracted to the Situation? but I mean, who isn't.

But I do know that there is absolutely nothing to take from this dream and nothing for my brain to be working out. I also know that Cinderella is a liar.

Kevylobacter

Kevin is so much worse than we ever could have imagined.

Yesterday, the Urgent Care called. I didn’t pick up because I didn’t need them (but you can bet if I’m calling them, they should pick up). They called back at 8:15 last night. She said “you have a rare bacterial infection and the health department will be calling you.”

…………

WHAT THE EFF? Are you serious?

I of course replied with “what! Am I going to die?” Urgent Care, ever so helpful, says back “ma’am, I am not a doctor. But the Health Dept. can answer any questions you may have.” You call me up at 8:15 at night and expect this NOT to freak me out? I immediately get off the phone and call my dad. For some reason, during urgent times, calling dad always seems like a good idea. He never makes things more urgent than they already are. Especially when you tell him you looked online and if this thing goes untreated, it could cause paralysis. He gives me the number for my childhood doctor (and good family friend so this really wasn’t that weird). I called Dr. Jack and explained to him my symptoms. Dr. Jack explains everything to me and talks me back to calm. He said getting this infection is about as likely as getting hit by a car. Also, did you know doctors have a database they can log into and get all the latest info on health issues? I asked, and it’s subscription based so technically, I could be my own doctor. And yours. But back to Kevin. We talk through what I had eaten and when and this and that. I got off the phone feeling much calmer. We had discussed whether or not I was contagious, and basically as long as I was washing my hands and not kissing anyone, I was fine.

………….

So I called a boy I had recently been kissing, but no longer was kissing. I left him a voicemail telling him I had been diagnosed with a rare bacterial infection and because we had been eating at the same places, and kissing, and while it was highly unlikely he would catch anything, he needed to be aware in case he got sick. Talk about embarrassing. And he hasn’t called me back. Does this make me even less attractive? More psycho?

It’s called campylobacter. It means twisted bacteria. It’s caused from raw or undercooked food, or even cross contamination with chicken. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to camp. Gross. Oh, I forgot to mention that meanwhile, in the midst of all of this, my friend Todd brought over a special delivery. He had heard me lamenting my VCR was kaput and he brought over his VCR and about 10 manly VHS tapes. My excitement of the VCR fueled my craziness last night. Needless to say, I’m exhausted from such an emotional night. But, I am so much more dateable now that I have manly movies. Just ignore my Kevylobacter and come kiss me.

Dear Baby T

Dear Baby T:
Now that we know we're having a baby girl, I can write you this letter (I mean, obviously, you will get these things better than say, if you were a boy). I found out about you on Oct. 28, 2010. Your parents sent me a birthday package scribbled with "do NOT open until you call me" all over it. Because I am obedient, I did what I was told and immediately called. Your mom sat there while I opened the package and never said a word while I mused about this purple get up being an outfit for Pete. I literally wondered out loud "why pete got something" and why I was confused that your parents' cats would send Pete an outfit on MY birthday. And then...I got it. I was overcome with emotion. I screamed. I cheered. I sounded like a boy in puberty. I cried. I could not believe it. My best friend, your mom, was having you. I've always said your parents' marriage consisted of three: them and me. And now our family of 3 was becoming a family of 4. I've had friends have babies before, there have been babies born to very close family members of mine, but this time it's different. You are the FIRST baby born to the group of people who make up my best friends. You are the baby we will fuss over and practice with and adapt our friendship with. You are the end of what was and the beginning of what we will be. You are our first babe!

I met your mom in college (so, we're looking at 10 yrs of friendship here). We were both in this ridiculous sorority and quickly became friends. We spent countless hours laying in her top bunk bed with binoculars spying on cute boys in the other buildings. We spent Wednesday evenings together watching reality tv and Jessica Simpson. My college friends considered her an honorary Meredith Angel and people still think she graduated with us. Once, I bought a self waxing kit and was too afraid to try it. So your mom tried it - she has always been much braver than I. Her blood curdling screams caused quite the commotion on my dorm floor. When I moved into my first apartment, your mom would come over and we would cook and gossip and eat. We ate a lot of pizza, especially Papa John's BBBQ Hawaiian Chicken Pizza. And drank lots of Boone's Farm Strawberry Wine. It was our favorite. I helped put together outfits for her fashion shows and she helped me decorate my apartment. We moved in together and had the cutest apartment on the block. Of course, she painted the whole thing herself then forced me to help her paint it back. We would dance for our creepo neighbor Don, convinced he watched us through the vents in her bathroom. We helped each other through crazy relationship drama (thank God neither of us are with those boys nowadays) and watched lots of Lifetime. I blamed a lot of scandalous things I did on her and she played a lot of tricks on me (someday, ask her about the lottery). We even somehow decided my brother's best friend was stalking her and confronted him about it. We were wrong. But it was funny. We became cat ladies together and grew into who we are now together.

Your mom moved back to our hometown before I did (yes, we grew up in the same place and knew the same people but never knew each other until college). She had a bad experience when she moved back, and then I moved back and went through the same thing. I never wanted to move back but I know the Lord placed her there so when I came back, she could help me. She introduced me to her new group of friends and the 6 of us took on the town together. Every weekend was spent together, chasing boys and chasing dreams. I was there the night your parents met...I mean, they knew each other from years ago but this was the night their worlds really collided. It was full steam ahead from that point on and now, just two years later, we know we're bringing a girl home in May. I talked to your dad just last week and I asked him what he would do if you turned out to be a girl. He was quiet for a minute and then he said "honestly, I have no idea." That makes me smile because like all dads, of course he has no idea. But, you're lucky because you are going to have one hell of a dad. Your mom and I have that in common, and now you will join our club (which unfortunately but realistically is very small): we have very, very good dads. As you grow, you will understand how integral a good dad is to your livelihood.

Your mom is quite a bird and because of her, I know these things about you already: you will be smart. you will be witty. you will be loyal. you will be tender hearted. you will probably not cry a lot (unless this whole emotional thing your mom has going on sticks around). you will be tiny. you will have a lot of shoes and a lot of clothes and when I can't find her, I will probably call you for fashion advice. you will know how to make your eye makeup really pop. you will have a lot of thick, long hair but we don't know what color it will be. (I've never seen your mom's natural color so this is very exciting to see what happens with your head). You will be devoted. And as long as you are a Republican, you will be surrounded by love. (I only half kid here).

Just the other day, your mom was telling me what it was like to feel you dance and I said "how can people not think that is a LIFE? a HUMAN?!" you see, we live in a world where some people believe life begins at birth, not at conception. I've only known about you for a little over two months and there is no doubt about it that you are alive. Alive and kicking and thriving and growing. You are a part of us. Our lives are already changed and enriched because of you. Baby T...I can't even tell you what I already feel about you. I'm already your number 1 fan. I can't wait to snuggle you, to hold your tiny fingers and count your perfect toes. I can't wait to babysit you for free. I can't wait to teach you to say inappropriate things and play tricks on your parents like they've played on me (maybe you'll get my gullibleness! it will make you a lot more fun). I can't wait to teach you and watch you learn and grow. I can't wait to share with you the things that I cherish from my childhood: tea parties, lace socks and saddle oxfords, baby dolls, ruffle panties, rocking chairs. I can't wait to see who you become. Babies really are miracles and a true expression of God's love. Max Lucado writes:

The next time you hear a baby laugh or see an ocean wave, take note. Pause and listen as His Majesty whispers ever so gently, “I’m here.”

I am so excited to teach you about your Heavenly Father and watch you grow in Him and become the woman of God you are meant to be. You are a daughter of the greatest Kingdom. And you don't even know it yet.

We are going to have so much fun Baby T. and if your mom is lucky, we'll let her play with us too.

Hanging 2010 Up.

(After seeing this on some other blogs, I decided I should partake).

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?
Gave my male bosses makeovers, manis and pedis and gyrated my hips all over the stage during our company Halloween showdown...I guess hip gyration really isn't anything new for me though...

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Are you serious right now? Lord, I barely remember this year's resolutions! You can rest assured I do NOT remember last year's.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No, apparently 2011 is going to be the year of the babe.

4. Did anyone close to you die?


My great aunt Esther died at 101, marking the end of a chapter for my family. I selfishly didn't make it to the funeral, but it was a time of reflection for me. Aunt Esta and my Amie were two funny, funny ladies and their stories will continue to be passed down. I mean, I can't enjoy a good doggie bag without telling whomever I am with about the missing ham or go to a wedding without sharing about the oldest wedding crasher you've ever met.

5. What countries did you visit?

I was supposed to go backpacking in Europe, topping it off with a giant Vienna sausage with my best friend Natalie. But, I'm a wimp and canceled the trip because of terror alerts. The last time I was in Europe there were terror threats and it was stressful. So, we didn't go. Lame, I know. We should have gone.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
Bond No. 9 perfume. A hammock swing. A piano.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Amongst the countless weddings and birthdays and fabulous trips of this year, my top 4 dates include:
March 28 - joined my church.
Sept. 2 - Surgery. Best decision of my life.
Oct. 28 - found out my best friend Kristin was with child.
Nov. 10 - Celebrate Life Day. Two girlfriends of mine and I took the day off work, ate our fave meal, visited the psychic (blog forthcoming) and drank mimosas seaside. It was a glorious day.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?


Probably becoming a better chef. I've always enjoyed cooking but I took it to new levels in 2010 and can absolutely say I'm a good cook. Good looks don't last forever but good cookin' do! Too bad you're gonna have to earn my cookin'.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I'd say my half marathon training was definitely 100% without a doubt a fail.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I had plastic surgery in Sept. for something I have wanted for as long as I can remember. I am beyond blessed to have wonderful insurance that covered the majority of the procedure and a company that allowed for the time off after less than a year of employment. So while I did have injury and illness as a result of this surgery, I wouldn't say it was a suffering. At all.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
A garlic press and a velvet romper.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Mine. So much so that I celebrated it every weekend.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?


John Edwards. He flat out disgusts me. And I still think Michael Vick is a prick. but I've always thought that.

14. Where did most of your money go?
many, many restaurants. and itunes apparently.

15. What did you get really excited about?
learning to play golf. And for some reason, I got really excited to learn about some water park in Orlando you can swim with the dolphins. I mean, I'm a pretty excitable person as it is, so maybe neither of these should count.

16. What song will always remind you of 2010?
Thanks to one person in particular I encountered, Sara Bareilles' "Between The Lines."

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

(a) happier or sadder?
(b) thinner or fatter?
(c) richer or poorer?
I am happier, fatter (do we have to say fatter? what about thicker? rounder? stouter? yeah, i guess there's no good option here) and poorer. Only poorer though because I'm in that middle time where I've used all my Christmas money and gift cards and am in between pay checks...good thing I'm not 30 yet and can still live this way.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?


Paddled more, put my toes in the sand more, spent more Saturdays at the soup kitchen, worked on my book more, read more, prayed more.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?


Eaten a lot less...

20. How did you spend Christmas?
fireside in NC with my family while it snowed outside (Christmas post forthcoming).

21. Did you fall in love in 2010?
I did. But then again, I suppose it's easy to fall in love when you're surrounded by water, setting suns and palm trees.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
This hasn't changed in the past 30 years: The Bachelor/ette, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, East Bound and Down, Keeping Up With the Kardashians and of course, Hannah Montana. I did discover Criminal Minds and spent the latter part of the year scared out of my mind.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Well, the real question should be do I want to blog about who I hate now that I didn't hate this time last year.

24. What was the best book you read?


The Help. A Reliable Wife. Blue Like Jazz. American Wife. Just to name a few.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Sara Bareilles and Colbie Caillat. Why it took me this long to discover them I will never know.

26. What did you want and get?


Peace of mind and clarity of the soul.

27. What did you want and not get?

Specifically a sugar daddy, but generally speaking, I would have been happy with a flawless Harry Winston and a pair of Christian Loubiton pumps.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
The Holiday. I came upon it during the scene where she says:

"I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade."

and I think we can all relate to that.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
My 28th year started on Oct. 28 when I received a surprise from my best friend Kristin: a purple baby onesie with the words "Happy Birthday Aunt Meredith!" on it. After determining it was not an outfit for Pete, I began to scream and cheer and cry. What a surprise! My parents arrived the next day and I made a delish dinner of lasagna, sally, herbed garlic bread and chocolate cake for them. We spent the weekend tooling around Amelia Island and lounging at the Cabana Club. It was a special weekend to have my parentals all to myself. I couldn't have asked for a better weekend. The actual day was spent at work. I was supposed to go to the shuttle launch but it got postponed due to weather (it's just freakin' space). Some friends took me to dinner the next night. It was a low key birthdizzy this year, but I spent it with some really close, really dear friends and rang in my 28th year in true contentment.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A personal jet.



31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?


2010 was the year of fashion for me. I really got into tights (couple years late on that one), big bangles and baubles and flat boots. But don't get too excited - I only know how to work it with a few outfits so I do a lot of repeats.

32. What kept you sane?


Who, not what. and their names all end in some way with the word Wolford.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I found myself spending exorbitant amounts of time defending Johnny Weir, Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber. and of course, my staple celeb crush: Jessica Simpson.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Besides everything Obammy has done that I haven't approved of? Hmm...

35. Who did you miss?


I missed North Carolina. The older you get, the harder it is to not remember your roots (yeah Alex Haley!)

36. Who was the best new person you met?


Hands down, Betty. Have you ever had a friend whom you had nothing in common with (as in you keep track of the things you do have in common, and they don't go past your fingers) yet you genuinely are interested in everything they have to say? Because I have that friend in Betty.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.


Life goes on. over and over again. And the Lord continues to meet you where you are. That never fails.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this City
Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done here

Kevin, You're Such a Disease

I've decided to name my parasite Kevin.

the fungus among us

Apparently, there's a chance I may be infested. I don't even know how to accurately describe my feelings on this subject. I have been a very sick little girl the past few days and decided to go to the Urgent Care this morning (rather, my mama told me to go "because a bug would have passed by now"). So I went and after telling the doctor my eating habits the past few days (oyster club meets on Thursdays and today is Tuesday), and having her push on my stomach some, she determined I might have a parasite.

yes. you heard. a PARASITE.

My first thought was regret. Regret for saying things like that a tape worm would be a good diet. I mean, we all know karma is a real bitch and perhaps this is what I get for saying things like I wouldn't mind having a tape worm or that bulimics might be onto something. My second thought was that I needed to vom. I mean, a parasite? That's really gross. I called my coworker and told her I felt like I needed to sit in a vat of scalding water. She said she felt like I should drink some bleach. I said yes, I should go ahead and kill myself since I might have a parasite. My third thought was that I have ALWAYS said you could get worms in your brain from eating pork. People have always made fun of me for my schools of thought but perhaps I am actually the one onto something. Except my parasite seems to live in my stomach. And I don't recall eating any pork recently. just an excessive amount of raw oysters. And, according to research, parasites are worms and not the little fleas like I thought. I am TERRIFIED of worms.

The results should be back in a few days. I called my sister to share my woes. Her response? "I'm sorry you're infested. I always knew you were the fungus among us."

Art.

You may or may not know about my friend Art. He's fantastic and gets jealous when other people flirt with me. Below is an example that made me laugh.

me: kissed two boys for new years. pretty productive wkend id say
Art: did they kiss back? was it consensual?

Who does he think it is! Wait, better yet, who does he think I am!! (he may or may not be right...)

Resolving to Fail.

It's a New Year, and a new you! And as usual, the past few days have made me extremely nervous. Everyone wants to know my resolutions and on top of that, I'm starting to have gym angst. Not because I have to start going to the gym but because of all the jerks who are going to start going to the gym. People like me, who refuse to do anything after work until they've worked out have to suffer and have crap workouts while the New Year's Resolutions get in a decent workout. It happens the same way every year. The Monday after New Year's, the gym is FLOODED with people taking over my treadmills and barely missing my head as they fling their weights around. They work out hard (like Jessica Simpson did for the Dukes of Hazard and then never again) for 1 month and then they disappear. Just like a poof, they are gone. February is the most fabulous time of year because the gym.is.empty. But until then, I have to suffer serious gym angst.

My kid sister was no doubt talking about me when she wrote: "you can't improve perfection." It's a good thing to, because if I could be improved, I'd be starting 2011 out with a giant F for failure. For starters, Mondays are my weekly start a new diet day. Every Monday, I announce to my cube mates my new diet, and every Monday by about 3pm, I get chastised because my afternoon snack is typically not on my diet. So, about 1 month ago, I resolved to give up bread, pasta, rice, sodas, fast foot and spirits. I refuse to give up dessert. It's my favorite part of every meal! This was a splendid diet to begin before the holidays. I failed. So I resolved to start it again. Except this weekend I had a headache, so I went to McDonalds for a burger, fries and a soda. Apparently an Excedrin Migraine was out of the question. So I decided to start it on Monday (with all the other jerks starting their resolutions). Only then I got a reminder email that my free Chick-Fil-A biscuit (I'm trusting, dear Chick, that a new year means a new you and we won't keep fighting) is available for pickup tomorrow between 7:30a-8:30a. And THEN I found a note I had written myself that Thursday at McDonalds is buy 1 item, get a second for 1 penny. It's only certain items but they really are some of my favorites. So that means I have to eat fast food twice this week.

I contemplated giving up my love affair with reality tv. I already don't have cable, so it keeps me pretty limited, but I have friends who have cable. This will come in handy since I'm going to become extremely lazy in January until I can get my treadmill back. Turns out The Bachelor starts back up tomorrow. After last season, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. Only because I like to be abused, I knew secretly I would be watching it. Then I found out it was that deuche bag Brad the Bartender again and I swore I wouldn't watch it. Except tonight, my friends brought up where we'd be watching it this season, and I knew I would be failing at this resolution too.

I told someone I was going to be more patient this year. But I'm already so annoyed about the gym that I'm going to go ahead and call that one like I see it and say I'm a failure. I resolved to be rich this year, but then I realized that unless I start really taking all those cat calls as compliments, being rich probably isn't going to happen. Maybe I'll make good on my promise to marry an old rich guy and inherit his gold. The only problem is, most old guys who are still kickin' it enough to get married probably are still kickin' it enough to at least try to do other things, and that really just doesn't appeal to me. So, scratch that.

I suppose I should resolve to have better self esteem. Starting the new year out as the failure I apparently am is starting to take its toll on me, and it's only day 3 of this brand spankin new year. I've got 362 more days to get my act together. It's going to be a long year. I can feel it. Especially since I might need something spirited to help me deal with the gym tomorrow (I kid mom, I kid).