Viva Nashvegas

The predictable thing for me to do today would be to post a recap about our trip to Nashville. But guess what… I’m not predictable so I’m going to blog about my favorite zoo animals instead!

Ok that’s a lie… I’m going to blog about the trip. But for the record, I’m a huge fan of the red panda. And the original panda for that matter.

So back in the Fall, Southwest was having a sale and we decided to take advantage. There were a few different places that were in the running, including Seattle and New Orleans, but because the flight times to/from Nashville worked the best with my half-day Friday schedule, Nashville was the winner!

The weather was not exactly cooperative, unless you consider grey skies and temperatures in the 30s to be cooperative. Fortunately we took the fact that it was February into consideration when planning the trip, so we didn’t really have anything outdoorsy planned.

The highlights of the trip were most definitely a trip to Bluebird Café, a venue where local up and coming songwriters play their songs while you sit and listen. A very complicated concept, I know. One of the guys who played that night happened to be the person who wrote the song “If My Heart Had Wings” (made famous by Faith Hill), and he performed it for us which was pretty cool. He did, however, spend the rest of the evening making cynical remarks about his ex-wives and people who steal music online. It was an authentic Nashville experience nonetheless!

We also enjoyed a “musical comedy tour” called Nash Trash, courtesy of Allison and Wade, who so kindly purchased us passes for Christmas. I really have no idea how to adequately describe the tour, so you are better off just going to the website to read about it. I will say, however, that they had a good time flirting with the younger men (my husband included), and that I was flattered that they referred to me as “cutie” while referring to the rest of the girls on the bus as “hookers.” Always a nice compliment.

Other than that, we did a lot of driving around and (surprise!) eating. I ate the tastiest pizza ever created at Bosco’s (which is saying a lot considering I’m not really a big pizza fan), and also enjoyed a cupcake that theoretically should have put me into a sugar-induced coma for days at Gigi’s Cupcakes. For the record, Brian and Bailey (one of my former youth group girls that is going to Vanderbilt) did NOT finish all of their frosting. But I, being the true champion eater that I am, pushed through to the end and consumed every last crumb of mine. A proud moment indeed.

We enjoyed watching the Saints win the Super Bowl (have I mentioned recently that Drew Brees went to my high school? And I’m facebook friends with his little sister? I know, I’m pretty much famous) at the hotel. Not the most glamorous place to watch the game, but being that Brian basically consumed his weight in buffalo wings at the hotel’s restaurant lounge, I think he was perfectly content. Of course, I think that contentment also stemmed somewhat from the fact that the game finally ending signified an end to my incessant, “Did you know Drew Brees went to my high school?!” comments to strangers. He’s probably just jealous :)

Our trip came to an abrupt halt when our plane touched down in Houston at 4:30 pm yesterday afternoon. Because by the time we arrived to our car and started to head home, it was 5:30. PM. On a Monday. In Houston. In case you aren’t good at math, this basically means that we were in h-e-double hockeysticks as far as traffic is concerned. So that was awesome. But not quite as awesome as the fact that a tsunami hit Houston right around the time we finally got out of gridlocked traffic. As you can imagine, I was perfectly calm and relaxed about the situation and Brian did not incur any of my wrath.

So anyway, we’re glad to be back to home sweet home, but sad to see our mini-vacation come to an end. I do have to point out one huge victory for Richmond and more specifically for our house, however—we did not find one single cockroach (dead or alive) upon arriving home yesterday. Not one! This has never ever happened before!

And on that note, is it sad when you consider arriving home to a house with no cockroaches to be a “victory” in your life? Regardless, I’ll take it.

Have a great week (until we meet again)!

A Day in the Life, aka: a great tool for potential stalkers

After complaining that only 2 of you submitted blog topic suggestions a couple of days ago, I received an additional suggestion from my pal, Bonnie. I know what you’re thinking—“THREE WHOLE SUGGESTIONS?! She’s the luckiest girl in the world!” It’s true.

Bonnie suggested that I do a “day in the life” post. And since there is nothing more interesting than reading about the life of a young-married-with-no-kids-yet-recruiter-married-to-a-youth-minister, I have decided to oblige. So without further delay, I give you a day in the life of Amanda Joiner:

5:10/5:15* am—Wake up! I am up and out of bed within approximately 30 seconds of the alarm clock going off. Boo-yah.
* The time depends on whether I will be working out at home or going to the YMCA.
5:10/5:15-5:50 am—Work out
5:50-6:50 am—Shower, get dressed and ready for the day, eat a bowl of Raisin Bran, do some early morning e-mail/facebook/blog stalking, all the while watching my friends on the Local 2 Morning News
7:15 am—Arrive at work!

I would love to share with you what I do at work on a typical day, but since I try to make it a habit not to blog about work for a variety of reasons, I am going to refrain. I do, however, one day plan on doing a post about amusing (deeply disturbing?) things that applicants say and do.

9:30 am—Morning snack time (typical snack options include: Wheat Thins, cereal, Laughing Cow cheese with crackers, popcorn, or pretzels)
12-1 pm—Lunch break; Because I am frugal and have a high tolerance for repetition, I pretty much do the exact same thing every day during lunch: walk a lap around the building outside while talking to Brian on the phone, eat my predictable turkey sandwich lunch, and read a book. Thrilling, I know.
3:30 pm—Afternoon snack time… assuming I can hold out for that long; my afternoon snack is always some type of granola bar… and not something cool and healthy like a Luna bar, but rather the same Chewy granola bars that I have been eating since 5th grade... peanut butter chocolate chip and s'more are my favorites :)
5:30 pm—Leave work and head home
5:32 pm—Call Brian
5:34 pm—Call Allison
6 pm—Eat dinner (typically I have either cooked in advance and Brian heats it up, or he starts getting it ready when he gets home at 5)
6:15-9 pm—Watch tv, play on facebook, check e-mail, eat something for dessert, take the dogs on a walk (if it’s not dark, freezing, and/or rainy… which it has been for the last 8 million years)
9 pm—Get ready for bed
9:30 pm—Targeted bed time

I know you’re probably feeling a little down in the dumps because your life probably isn’t as glamorous as mine, but try not to beat yourself up too much—not all 26-year-olds can live the life of an 86-year-old with such ease. But by all means, good luck trying!

And if you are looking for more insight into my life, make sure to head on over to Allison’s blog and ask a question (or 5)!

Happy birthday, Bath Volkie!

I would like to wish my wonderful friend, Elizabeth Rose Volk, a very happy 27th birthday today!

Elizabeth and I have been friends since 8th grade, and even though she didn’t invite Allison and me to her slumber party on the first weekend of school (therefore leaving us to hang out at home alone stuffing our faces with Cheetoh puffs while watching Powder), I still love her :) And she loves when I bring that up!

I can imagine that being best friends with a set of twins was not the easiest task, but she handled it well—she always invited both of us along, made sure to switch off which twin she asked for when she called the house, and managed not to interfere in any twin fights (probably because she feared for her life).

I never laugh harder than when I’m with Elizabeth, and even though our friendship began almost 14 years ago (eek!), we still manage to behave like 8th graders whenever we’re together.

My favorite memories of Elizabeth include making music videos ("YO YO ES GRAAAANDE!"), a few unusual rounds of volleyball in my parents' pool, cruising the streets of Westlake (and occasionally meeting potential child predators in the WHS parking lot), trips around Texas (not limited to the roach motel in Dallas and of course our senior trip to Padre), and many, many more. And lest you forget, she also happens to be the friend that made my embarrassing Backstreet Boys interaction possible. Thanks for that one :)

Anyway, I thought I’d include a few pictures from over the years, although I didn’t have very many scanned from our pre-digital camera days. Enjoy, and make sure to leave a comment wishing her a happy birthday!

Sophomore year Soiree (1998)

Elizabeth's 16th birthday (I think) (1999)

Sophomore Year Pedernales (1999)

Elizabeth, Maryanne, Allison, and me at my parents' house (2002)

Allison's bridesmaids' luncheon (2006)

The day after I got engaged (2006)

"Super Six" at my bridesmaids' luncheon (2007)

Helping to get me in my wedding dress (2007)

The most embarrassing day ever, aka: meeting two of the Backstreet Boys (2007)

Christian's wedding (2007)

And PS- don’t forget to visit her cute jewelry website!

Remembering the roomies

Happy Groundhog Day, everyone! Unfortunately, our imaginary friends don’t really know the difference between major holidays (Christmas, Easter, etc.) and minor holidays (Arbor Day, Groundhog Day, etc.), so some of them are a little on edge about the fact that we are still required to work today. And that they weren’t given any presents. I know, the NERVE of us forgetting to buy gifts for our imaginary friends on such a significant day as this!

Anyway, word on the street is that we will be having 6 more weeks of winter. Hooray. Don’t get me wrong, I most definitely enjoy the cold weather that accompanies winter—but if I could just (a) see the sun for more than a day at a time and (b) have the opportunity to sit around the house comfortably without being wrapped up in a blanket, I would really appreciate it. And yes, you will hear me singing a different tune come June. Let’s all accept my seasonal double standards and just move on.

As you might or might not have noticed yesterday, I was struggling to come up with something to blog about. I submitted a plea for help, and 2 of you very kindly responded. To Risa and Allison: thank you for your assistance during this trying time of blogger’s block. To the rest of you, thanks for nothing! Kidding… sort of.

Anyway, Allison requested that I blog about how I’m a picky eater/how I hate it when people say that I’m a picky eater. However, I think I kind of covered that with my post back in September about my excursion with some co-workers to a local Chinese food restaurant.

Risa (yes, the very same President of Chi Omega that I referenced the other day) requested that I blog about my college roommates, in particular those from Spring of 2005. Well congratulations, Risa, those who ask will receive, so here you go!

One of the more glamorous parts of serving on the Executive Board for Chi Omega was that we were required to live in the house during our term. I actually didn’t mind because I really enjoyed living in the Chi O house. You get to live with 40+ other girls, so there’s always someone to hang out with (translation: someone to distract you from studying). There’s a cook that prepares 3 hot meals a day, and a housekeeper that cleans the bathrooms every day. And never mind the fact that boys weren’t allowed upstairs and we had to have a babysitter in the event that our house mom was out of town—it was otherwise a pretty sweet gig!

Nonetheless, after spending 3 full years under the roof of the Chi O house, I was ready for a change of scenery. As luck would have it, when my term as VP ended in the Fall of my senior year, there were some willing new Exec members and eager freshmen that had no choice to/agreed to move into the house. Risa and Allison happened to be in the same boat, as did Risa’s friend, Page, at the Theta house next door. And thus begins our tale.

We were fortunate to move into a cute little 3-bedroom house in the historic district near campus. And by “3-bedroom,” I mean to say that there were 2 bedrooms and a room downstairs that we pretended was a bedroom. Allison and I split the master bedroom, Risa had the bedroom next to us upstairs, and Page took one for the team and lived in the downstairs cubby hole with no closets or locked doors known as the 3rd bedroom. It was her punishment for being part of a different sorority—ha ha!

And Risa thinks that we lived with her because we like her, but what she may be saddened to find out is that we only lived with her because her dad had the hook-up with a furniture rental store and got us a sweet leather couch and dining room table for our place. Thanks, Mr. Holland!

Anyway, many fun times were had in 402 Welsh—we made dinner together on very rare occasions (ok, I think it happened once), we had a birthday party for Page, and perhaps most importantly, Allison, Risa, and I repeatedly had contests to see who could shout out our Aggie introductions the loudest from room to room. I’m not even going to bother explaining an Aggie introduction to you, because you simply will not understand. Or care.

I should also note that during this particular semester, I was enrolled in a whopping 3 hours of class. It was originally 6 hours, but when I realized that I might get a B in one of the classes and therefore lower my GPA, I dropped it like it was hot and continued on with my one class. So needless to say, I spent a lot of free time lounging around that house eating lean pockets and watching episode after episode of Gilmore Girls. Oh, to be in college again…

This also happened to be the house I lived in when I fractured my foot (playing Guesstures with Brian’s family at Easter), and due to the very steep stairs there, I gave up on using crutches within 24 hours of my injury. And to really make sure I was fully resisting the healing process, I also made sure to walk to class AND to Brian’s apartment as often as possible since our house was less than a mile from both. I’m such a rebel.

We really did have a fun semester, and along with many things about A&M, I was sad to see our living arrangement come to an end when we graduated and went our separate ways at the end of the semester. I even made a mix cd for the roomies to commemorate our time together. I would share the track list with you, but my copy unfortunately is no longer around due to the great cd collection theft from my car in 2006. Boo. Maybe Allison or Risa will share with you if you ask nicely... if they still have their copies!

Sadly, I don't have any pictures on this computer from our time at 402 Welsh. I do have a picture of the 4 of us (plus my niece, Emma) from my wedding back in 2007, so that will just have to suffice.

Page, me, Allison + Emma, Risa

So there you have it. If you want to avoid having to read additional posts about things you might not care about, then I suggest that you come up with some new topics for me ASAP!

Lacking motivation

Ok friends (and strangers), I am really struggling to come up with something to write about today... unless, of course, you consider a post dedicated to detailing every single thing I ate over the weekend to be an intriguing topic.

So instead I am leaving the ball in your court- what would YOU like for me to blog about today (or tomorrow... or whenever)?

Giving sorority girls a good name since 2001

When I was in college, I had the privilege of serving as the Vice President of my sorority, the one and only Chi Omega. I actually ended up working for that same sorority for my first year out of college, but that’s another story for another time. Anyway, as the VP, I was in charge of overseeing the chapter’s scholarship efforts. This meant that I tracked grades, encouraged good study habits, and a few other boring tasks that basically paled in comparison to the fact that if the President were to die, I would have been in charge. But for many reasons, not the least of which being the fact that the President, Risa, was/is one of my good friends and eventual roommates, I’m glad that she did not die :)

Moving along, one of the events that I was in charge of was the Professor Dinner. Basically we encouraged all members to invite one of their professors to dinner at the Chi O house… hence the very creative and catchy title of the event. If the thought of having to hang out with your professor one-on-one was too intimidating, then it was also an option to get a group of girls who also had that same professor and all invite him/her together.

Essentially, if you aren’t catching my drift, the whole point was to suck up to your professor by giving him/her a free dinner. But at the time, it didn’t seem quite so shameless.

So anyway, on the evening of the dinner (catered by the prestigious Olive Garden… before it burned down… because that’s about as fancy as it gets in College Station), in addition to inviting my own professor for dinner, I was also responsible for helping to greet professors as they arrived and directing them to their respective students.

So I dutifully stood by the front door, flashing a smile and doing my best to warmly usher in the somewhat apprehensive professors. Occasionally, a professor would arrive whose respective student had not yet arrived, and so I had the pleasure of making small talk until that person showed up. Not a problem, right? I’m great at small talk, and also pretty good at brown-nosing people of authority.

Or so I thought.

In walks this short little man, and so I asked him who had invited him to the dinner (please note that this probably would have been a good time to ask him WHAT HIS NAME WAS). Upon realizing that his student had not arrived yet, I began to make conversation. I discovered that he was a history professor, that it was his first year teaching at A&M, and that he and his wife had just had a baby earlier that year. How sweet.

I responded that I was actually taking a history class that semester myself, and the conversation went a little like this:

Professor: Oh really? Which class are you taking?
Me: World History 107 (or whatever it was).
Professor: So how do you like the class?
Me: Well to be honest, the class is pretty boring. And it wouldn’t be quite so bad if my professor wasn’t so mean! I swear she is angry all the time and just takes it out on her students.
Professor: Hmm, what’s her name?
Me: Professor (whatever her name was). Do you know her?
Professor: (smiles) That’s my wife.

Oops. This is the point were I started backpedaling as quickly as possible and clarifying that by “mean” and “angry,” I really just meant that she was very structured and had high standards for her students. And by “boring,” I meant to say that the material was a little over my head because OBVIOUSLY I’M AN IDIOT.

He didn’t seem terribly offended, but as you can imagine, the conversation pretty much came to an abrupt halt at that point. And I have no doubt that he went home and told his wife (whom I had not invited to the dinner, mind you) what I said. And while I took comfort in the fact that he never caught my name, I have a feeling that they probably didn’t have a ton of trouble putting two and two together being that I wore Chi Omega shirts to class virtually every day.

And in my defense, the reason I thought she was mean is because she one time interrupted her class to reprimand Allison, a friend, and I for being distracting in class. In college. Because apparently we’re 12. So I guess that really isn’t in my defense, but come on, I’m sorry if your class was so boring that drawing pictures of you and/or doing crossword puzzles was more entertaining, ok?

And I just have to state for the record that I was actually a very good student and even managed to get an A in her class. So in case this blog sounds like the vengeful ramblings of a stupid sorority girl, I wanted to make sure and clarify that that was not the case. I actually liked school. I’m a loser. The end.

At least now I know how to create a distraction if I ever decide to rob the Y

This story really isn't all that exciting, so I'm just going to jump right in so as not to waste anyone's time:

So yesterday morning when we arrived at the Y, I hopped onto my favorite treadmill to find that whoever had used it before me had left his/her ipod shuffle behind. After I finished my run, I very dutifully took the lost item to the front desk to turn it in.

And can I just pause here to tell you that I seriously get a huge kick out of doing “the right thing”? For the duration of my 30-minute workout, I was silently praying that no one would come claim the ipod while I was working out so that I would have the satisfaction of walking it over to lost and found myself. For some people, bungee jumping and sky diving gets their adrenaline going; for me, it’s obeying the rules. I am a loser.

Anyway, the usual 5:30 am entourage of octogenarians was clustered in the front lobby chatting, and while I really don’t even know if any of them actually work there, I can only assume that at least one of them has some sort of authority being that they are the only people guarding the front desk when we arrive and leave.

So I proudly held out the ipod shuffle and said, “This was left on my treadmill—is there some kind of lost and found where I can turn it in?” I waited expectantly for them to applaud my good deed, or at least for them to smile fondly at this young good Samaritan as they pointed me towards the lost and found. But sadly, all I received was a collective look of bewilderment.

Baffled. All of them. It was as if I was holding a rock from the moon (are there rocks on the moon?). I informed them that it was an ipod shuffle, and while they nodded their heads knowingly and pointed me toward the person to give it to, I heard the ensuing conversation in which one of the (obviously more hip) old women informed the rest of the crew just what exactly an ipod shuffle was.

Brian suggested that had I been holding out a phonograph, they might have been quicker to understand the gravity of the situation… perhaps I’ll try that next time to get more of a reaction.