Words are confusing.

So there are lots of things that are different in North Carolina than in the "deep South."

Today's example:

I've always called the thingamajig that holds money (and credit cards) a wallet. The contraption that holds the wallet (along with anything else that will fit) is a purse.

In Charlotte, my purse is called a pocketbook. In my mind, a wallet, if anything, should be called a pocketbook, because if it's actually small enough it can go in your pocket. My wallet (a massive clutch-sized Hobo) is no where near small enough for my pocket. However, I would not call a purse, especially one the size of mine, a pocketbook either.

So when I hear, "I love your pocketbook" and my wallet is no where in sight, I get confused. Massively. Then I remember where I am and that they mean my purse. Oh. Thanks.

Upcoming Fight.

My Charlotte bff, Jess, recently married one of Bob's friends. Jess, Chris, and Bob have all been friends for a few years now. Jess is one of those people you just instantly love. The first time I met her I knew we'd be good friends. And we are. Her husband, Chris, is also a pilot and is gone a lot too. He and Bob have similar schedules, which means Jess and I are usually "single" at the same time.

And what do we do when we're "single" together? We go to the bar and watch football games. No lie. It's so sad, but we both love football. Usually we end up shopping or baking afterward, so it all works out. This past Sunday after the game, we spend 3+ hours in Target. At least 30 minutes of that was spent on the baking aisle and another 30 picking out wrapping paper. I don't know why. We just ended up parking on an aisle and talking about random stuff. Which apparently we did all over the store since we were in there for so long. By the time we left, security was tailing us. I assume they thought we had sticky fingers. We did not. Hmpf.

Anyway, a couple of weekends ago we ended up at the mall, where we each purchased the most amazing blankets ever. She had already received one as a wedding gift, but they were on a pretty massive sale, so she bought another (as a "gift" that she'll never actually get around to giving to anyone, but Chris doesn't need to know that).

I'm telling you... This is the blanket to end all blankets. We bought them during a $25 flash sale in store, but the full price is worth every penny. I have snuggled up to it every single day since the day I brought it home. And even better, Jack hasn't found it yet. He still molests his old regular blanket. I'm dreading the day when he realizes what I've got. It's going to be an all out fight to the death to see who will win. It's that good. Pinky promise.

Passive aggressive... protesting.

So. The DNC is in Charlotte this week. I am not happy about it. And lucky for us, White House staffers are staying down in our section of town. Know what that means? Pure and utter chaos. Road closures. Increased traffic. Ridiculousness.

The protesting also started today. These peeps walked all over Uptown Charlotte, with it hot as balls outside, to protest Bank of America. On a Sunday. The one day banks are closed. Why? I don't get it. I totally support their right to protest, their right to free speech, and their right to whatever else they have the right to do. But seriously. Protesting a bank on a Sunday? That's just a smidge passive aggressive in my book. Why not do it on a day... when they're OPEN? Isn't the entire purpose of protesting to get them to understand your point of view? How can they do that when they're not working? On a holiday weekend at that?

So. To everyone else not using their Sunday to protest, happy weekend!

Things I don't like. Tuesday edition.

Today is Tuesday, right?

So I'm tired of bitching about our kitchen. If you're facebook friends with me, you know I've been blowing it up with my frustrations. And since I'm tired of my kitchen, I thought I'd bitch about the other things I'm tired of (in no particular order):

1. The Olympics. Or more specifically, the networks bringing them to us. Holy balls. Pick a damn sport and show it until at least that set/match/game is over. I was watching some channel this morning and they switched sports so many times, it made me assume the producer was bipolar. I typically enjoy watching several different sports, but shit. I can't do it this year. The programming is too psychotic.

2. The Chick-fil-A debate. I'm not going to state my personal opinion about it here or anywhere. But holy shit. Don't take to facebook, blasting one side or the other, assuming your friends will magically say, "You know what? After reading this post, I realize he/she is so right. I'm going to change my opinion." And then get all pissy about it when you don't have 100% agreement. On facebook. Seriously?

3. The presidential race. To me, politics and religion are personal. Through my very republican husband, my mostly democratic voting history has been revealed to numerous people. I do not talk about it myself, not because I'm ashamed of it, but because I don't feel there's a need. Bob, along with these numerous people, like to pick on me for the choices I've made. Some of those people (not Bob... he knows better), have tried to get me riled up about this year's race. They try to start a debate and make me get all political. But when I don't participate, they interpret my silence as ignorance or assume I've converted to their way of thinking. I have my thoughts and reasons for those thoughts. Just like the chick-fil-a debate, me speaking my mind isn't going to change yours. Or vice-versa. And I don't typically enter an argument that I'm not guaranteed to win. I'm smrt like that.

4. The Harris Teeter in my neighborhood. Charlotte is overrun with Harris Teeter grocery stores. And when I say overrun, I mean there are 6 in our 10 square mile radius. "Mine" sucks compared to other ones in general vicinity. Although mine is under construction, I don't think we'll ever get all the cool stuff the other ones have. I don't like this.

5. My kitchen. I know, I know. I said I was done. But surprise. I'm not. Robert, my oh so fabulous mold guy, is coming back today. To cut out a portion of the cabinets to a) see how horrific the mold is and b) try to find the mysterious leak.

I may be done bitching now. But I may not. We'll see. Once Robert leaves, I'll probably be all fired up again. Aren't you looking forward to that?

Just like Jessie J. Do it like a dude.

In preparation for the new job I start tomorrow, I had to go have my fingerprints made at the sheriff's department. The fingerprint office shares a space with the handgun licensing bureau. There were all sorts of interesting people in there. ALL SORTS.

While sitting there waiting my turn, I happened to notice an inordinate amount of crotch grabbing going on. I guess I'm normally not around so many males in one space. Males who feel the need to adjust. In public.

Now I understand the need to, ahem, rearrange the stuff that's down there. But come on. Is it really necessary to grab it THAT much? You're not even playing baseball (or randomly wearing baseball pants). What if girls started doing that? Just reaching down there? Now I'll admit... when my thong puts me in an awkward position, I'll find a discreet corner and adjust. My former employees, I'm sad to say, were all too familiar with this display. Unfortunately enough for them.

But in public? In front of gawd and everyone? Like 6 times in 2 minutes? (Yep, I timed and counted.) Really? I don't get it. You're standing relatively still for that 2.5 minutes. That package down there isn't jostling around. It's not being moved around due to walking. You're not sitting and standing frequently. You're not playing baseball. You're just standing there. What is there to adjust?

I just don't get it.

Parking. (And not the fun kind)

I've been told for years that I'm not a fantastic driver. In fact, my Daddy's opinion is that I'm one of the worst drivers ever. But you know what they say about opinions... But I've never had a wreck (currently knocking on wood) and I've never actually gotten an actual speeding ticket (don't misunderstand... I get pulled over A LOT). I'm just fast. Lead foot, if you will.

Anyway, when it comes to parking, I have a slight issue. It's not parallel parking. No, I cut my teeth parallel parking on Louisiana Tech's campus. My main building was on a street with parallel parking. If you didn't know how to do it (like much of the student population at Tech), you didn't get a spot. Or if you did get a spot and you didn't park correctly, your car was booted. For the record, I never got a boot.

So I can basically parallel park a bus. Then if needed, I can back the bus into another parking spot. I'm an excellent backer-upper. You see, my issue is pulling into parking spots. I know, right? Sounds, uh, dumb.

I NEVER pull all the way into parking spots. I think I have and then I come out of the store and the front of my car is SEVERAL feet away from the parking line. Even if I concentrate on it, for some reason, I can't pull all the way in. I mean, I'm not one of those cars with the ass hanging out in the driving lane. I have an itty car, so it rarely pokes out. And once I get my new car (a Mini Cooper), my lack of ability to pull all the way in will be a good thing. Don't you hate it when you think a spot is empty and then you realize a damn Mini Cooper is already occupying that spot? I won't do that to people. You'll be able to tell my Mini is in the spot, because it won't be all the way in there anyway.

My con will become your pro. See, we all win. I think.

Driving me crazy.

Guess who North Carolina's newest legal driver is? THIS GIRL! But I can't really prove it yet. Turns out they mail you the actual license 10 days after you take the test. The test was pretty easy. I missed one question, but I don't remember what the question was. Something worded weird. For sure.

So for all you peeps moving to NC (if you are married, have been married, are changing your name, whatever), let me tell you what to bring:
-Your old license
-Your new social security card (and your old one just for good measure)
-Your marriage license (from the new one)
-Your divorce papers (from the last one)
-Your insurance card
-Proof of your NC address on something important
-$32
-A LOT OF PATIENCE

So once you bring all that, you get to take a road sign test, a vision test, and a computerized driving exam. So much fun. Once you pass all that, YOU STILL DON'T GET A DAMN LICENSE. You get a temporary license on a sheet of copy paper. Then 10 days later you MIGHT get your actual license. Maybe. If you don't get it, you have to call and beg for it apparently. Yeah.

Thank gawd this damn thing lasts for 8 years. I don't want to go through this shit any time in the near future. 8 years from now? Fine. Done. Assuming I get my license in 10 days. Grrrr....

The days are numbered.

So I'm still settling in. Charlotte is getting marginally smaller, and so is Bob's house. It's so hard to merge to adult lives into once space. Especially two adult lives of two very sentimental people. We have SO much crap!

So we're getting closer to our wedding date. Today we're sitting at 9 days away. And do I have everything done? Hell no. Not even close. I still have to print/put together the guest book (a print of the lyrics of our first song), print the programs, and get the centerpieces together. Gah. A smidge overwhelming to say the least. But it'll all happen. I know it will.

At this point, we're both more excited about the honeymoon and just sitting down for 6 days. We've both been going and going so fast, that we need a breather. In Belize. And it's 10 days away!

Hello, from the far East.

Howdy peeps. So a LOT has happened in the last 2 weeks. I took my pictures and love every one of them. It was an amazing experience. If you're in Little Rock and need some fun pics taken, may I suggest Meredith Melody? She rocks. Super professional and super talented.

As you can see from my title, I am officially Charlotte's newest resident. Daddy, Bob, and I packed up and moved East. Dad and I packed on Sunday, drove to Memphis and met Bob, did a wedding food tasting on Monday, then headed to NC. We got here about 230 Tuesday morning, and let me tell you, that was one hell of a drive. Holy balls. 13 hours in a car with Bob... AND JACK (otherwise known as The Kitty). We all survived. Barely.

I'm mostly unpacked, but sweet lord, I have a lot of shit. I threw away two dumpsters full of crap, but now that I'm here, I'm throwing more away. I've been left here alone, as Bob and Dad both left yesterday morning. Daddy went back to Hometown, Bob went to work. It's just me and Jack. Alone. Together. Yikes.

On tap for today, join a gym, continue unpacking, and find the liquor store. This girl needs wine.