Jane of the Jungle (or maybe just the outdoors)?

I have truly been remiss in posting blog updates lately. And by lately, I mean the last 2 months. And there's really no excuse for it, other than that I've been in the happy bliss of new relationship. Which seems to push most other things to the back burner.

But, no more.

I'm back (well, sort of. At least for now).

For those of you who know me (which I truly assume is all of you who read this blog), you know I'm not much of an outdoorsy girl. In fact, I hate to rough it and have been known to run screaming from anything dirt and leaf covered.

But, no more.

The beau has a hobby that I never thought I would be around. The beau is a hunter. Yes, a hunter. And he is taking NotSoPlainJane along for the ride!

Right before hunting season began, we went to one of his hunt clubs (yes, I said one. He REALLY loves to hunt) and shot some guns. As some of the other members watched, I picked up that first hand gun and POW! right by the bull's eye. After a little more showing off, I was done for the day. Everyone was mightily impressed with me, especially when they discovered that I had only been shooting once before in my life.

Next up, hunting season begins. While I'm pretty good with a gun, I'm not so good with shooting living things. At least, I can't personally do it. The beautiful doe staring at me with sad dead eyes only served to strengthen that decision.

However, I have now spent many a weekend at hunt clubs around the state. Even staying in... wait for it... a camper! I will say this though. It is actually a wonderful environment with wonderful people. And I will continue to be myself down there. Which means that when you roll up to the beau's hunt clubs, you will see me walking around, rocking my Joe's Jeans and fUgg boots. Hey, I'm still me. Dirty outdoorsy stuff and all!

Recap of my life lately

I am currently on vacay with the parentals. So I figured this would be a great time to catch up on my blog. And quite a catch up I've got ahead of me! So let's get started, shall we?

Unlike last time I took a lengthy break from NotSoPlainJane-ing, I actually have been a pretty busy girl. I've been hanging out with friends, doing some traveling around the state (Edisto, Charleston a few times- Rockville Regatta anyone?), spending time with my family, reading loads of books and, oh yeah, GETTING A NEW CAR!! I know I have gone through the saga of Christine, nee Black Betty, ad nausuem. But suffice it to say, once the gasoline leak happened, she had to go. So off the parentals and I went to find me a new car!! I knew I wanted a Toyota SUV, so at least that was a starting point. So about 2 weeks ago, Fiona entered my life.

She's a 2010 Toyota Highlander Limited. Magnetic Gray Metallic. Which means she sparkles in the sunlight (LOVE it). She's got all the bells and whistles. And I am in love with her.

I've also attended weddings for the last two weekends in a row. Two weekends ago it was down in Charleston (I was the "and guest"). Last weekend, my boss got married. The weekend was crazy busy and Moss-tastic! Lots of friends, food and alcohol. Dancing, toasts, and did I mention alcohol?! I do love a wedding (namely because I like to pretty myself up and go glam). Unfortch, you can't wear cocktail to a law office. Or can you.... I know a girl who would like to incorporate a tiara into her every day wear. Cocktail dress can't be too far off, right?

And really, that's been my life for the past 2 months. Add in a new beau for extra excitement and I've been a pretty happy girl lately! Until next time y'all!

There's no place like gnome

I have a college friend who owns his own landscaping company. Which means he's pretty into yard stuff. He and his wife invited the parentals and I to dinner a few weeks ago. I noticed there were some gnomes hanging out in his yard. He and his wife have a game. The gnomes "mysteriously" move around the yard. The parentals and I thought that was a lot of fun. So we helped one of the gnomes move.

A little while after that, my friend got the parentals a gnome of their own. I had some good fun moving him during a party at the parentals' house. He moved from the fish pond to underneath the wine bottle tree. I figured that was appropriate, being a wild party and all!

About a week or so ago, I came home to discover a gnome in my front "yard." It was cute and tiny and holding a flower. I immediately accused my friend, only to learn that they had been gnomed as well. Next on the accused list? The parentals. Oh yes- we had figured out the guilty parties.

A few days later, I came home to another gnome in my "yard." This one is slightly bigger, but still very cute and sitting with a bird in his hand.

Yesterday morning, I walked out of my house to find this note laying on the ground...


I immediately went into gnome-napped mode. I knew my gnome wouldn't leave the yard voluntarily. Even for a vacation with friends. Until I got the following picture texted to me by Pops...


Apparently, little gnome DID go on vacation. Along with my friend's gnome. I'm thinking of grounding him when he comes home though. I didn't give him permission to leave the yard, even if he is with the parentals.

TiVo or BFF?

I got TiVo a few years ago as a Christmas present from my grandmother. Before anyone gets all excited about how hip my Dove is, she gives us money and lets us buy our own gifts. Can't say that it's not a good way to do it. But it's so cute when you thank her for what she "bought" you for Christmas and she doesn't even know what it is. God- she's so adorable!

What I love about TiVo is that it tapes things that it thinks you might enjoy watching. Sure it's weird to come home to shows about serial killers (alright, I really like that stuff) or History Channel stuff (no seriously- me no likey). But it's so much fun to see what TiVo has surprised me with each day!

The only downside to TiVo (ok there are two) are that I can't watch something and taped something else. I have old skool TiVo, yo. And that because I don't have wireless internet, being an internet thief and all, I have to have a phone line to get TiVo to show programs.

On Sunday, TiVo informed me that the programs would run out this weekend. That's weird, I thought. Guess I need to plug it into the phone line. Nope- I have no dial tone. That's the problem with TiVo! Here's the sad thing. Were it not for TiVo, I would have gone WEEKS without realizing that I had no dial tone. Of course, were it not for TiVo, I wouldn't even have a land line. So really, would it have mattered?

I wouldn't be a waiter if you paid me. More than a 20% tip!

Sunday being Daddy's Day, I took my parents out to eat. I figure if I don't pay, Pops actually paid for his own Daddy's Day dinner (what with the joint bank account the parentals have and all). Pops really wanted steak, but all of the steakhouses had nearly an hour long wait. So we ended up at Chili's.

Little Mommy and Pops aren't really Chili's connoisseurs. In fact, Sunday might have been the second time they'd ever been. I, on the other hand, am a big fan. Especially of the molten chocolate cake. Yummers!

We sat down and our waiter trotted over. His name was Mark. The parentals decided he reminded them of Michael J. Fox. Long story short- he was one of the best waiters I've ever had (far exceeding "Beverly" at Hampton Street Vineyard). He was upbeat, he was friendly, he was funny. He got a great tip.

But I know I do NOT have the personality to be a waiter. I would end up cussing someone out. On a daily basis. Good waiters are rare. So if you are in the mood for Chili's, head to the one on Two Notch and ask to sit in Mark's section. You won't be sorry. Especially if you order the cake!

Technology- wasn't it supposed to make life easier?

In November, I went up to NYC to visit my (as I lovingly call her) baby cousin (she's 27). The second night I was there, she had a little par-tay at her apartment. The champagne (and Sweet Tea Vodka) were flowing. And I got hammered. The result of getting hammered meant that I actually fell down at one point (shocking because I am a pretty coordinated drunk). And when I fell down, I spilled Sweet Tea Vodka on my phone. So I had to get a new phone once I got home.

I decided I had to have a phone with a full keypad and I did NOT want a Blackberry. So I ended up with the HTC Tilt 2. After about a week, I decided I didn't love it, but that I'd try to like it. After about a month, I knew I hated it. But by that point, it was too late to return it. Then, it got attitude with me.

Didn't you know that electronics can get attitude? Well, they can. And the Tilt did. It started freezing up while I would be typing a text message. Then, after a few more months, it started turning off when I would V-E-R-Y gently place it on my bed. Finally, I had enough. So last week, I headed to AT&T to make a change. That change was LEGEND- wait for it- DARY. I cracked and bought....

an iPhone

Holy crap- what took me so long?! Why did I think I wouldn't like the iPhone? Am I crazy? Short answer- yep. I am.

The thing is- now that my phone is finally working, another piece of "advanced, foreign" technology hasn't been.

The Mercedes.

Last summer, I was in Charlotte for a bachelorette party (super fun!). And all of a sudden, the air conditioning in the back seat turned into heat. And I mean BLAZING hot HEAT. It's still like that.

Last winter, I was driving up to Sparkle City. The car started getting a little warm, so I turned the heat off. And for the next hour, it kept turning itself back on every time I turned it off.

Last week, I was coming home from work and decided to hit up 5 Guys for dinner.
On a side note, why do the 5 Guys guys stare at me when I order the regular cheeseburger instead of the little one? They always ask me if I'm sure that I want the one with 2 patties. I do. That's why I ordered it, thank you very much. And if you want, I'll eat it here and prove that I can finish it. Because I can. But back to the story.
I was in the center lane of Forest Drive, attempting to turn left. And my car turned itself off as I sat there. Pardon? Black Betty- what's going on with you?

The next day, I left for work and Black Betty sounded a little odd. That's because the rear passenger side tire was flat. And as I sat there in my car, waiting for my mom and a tow truck, Black Betty decided to turn off. Again.

The guys at my tire place decided to check Black Betty out for me. And found nothing wrong with her. She didn't turn off. She ran like a dream.

Saturday, I went over to Irmo for a mani/pedi and some errands. While there, my car decided to not start. Eventually, once the towing guy showed up, she started right up. With the check engine light a-blazing. As soon as I got to my office (where I decided to leave her so she could go to the shop first thing Monday morning), she decided to turn off again.

This morning, we decided to use my car to drive to court. And again, she wouldn't start up. The guys were able to give her a little jump and get her a new battery. I don't think that will stop her from continuing to act up. I think she needs a new computer. Or a new spirit.

Oh Black Betty- I loved you. But Christine- no such love for you. That's right- I have re-named my car. She is possessed. No seriously. She is.

Oh how I suffer. And not in silence either!

I realized that I haven't really been blogging a lot lately. And as I'm clearly more famous than I initially thought, I'm sure that has left legions of fans completely distraught. I apologize.

I wish I could say I'd been doing great things. I haven't. In fact, I have been having migraines for over one full week. Starting the day of my last blog.

I woke up May 17 with quite a migraine starting. It was a court day, so I just chalked it up to stress and hearings. Also, the fact that it had been a long weekend. Then I woke up with a migraine the next morning. And the next morning. And the next and next. Then Saturday night, the pain relocated from simply my temples and behind my eye to my neck. And for nearly 3 days, I was unable to turn my head.

My aunt has been a migraine sufferer for years. And a wealth of knowledge for me now that I am a migraine sufferer myself. Turns out that I was experiencing something called cluster headaches. They hit migraine sufferers and usually are a result of stress. It's like my body had been stressing out up until the point the headache hit. And instead of just one little headache, I had 5 or 6 a day. With shooting pains behind my eyes. And the neck. It was miserable.

So I finally went to the doctor for drugs. Ah, drugs.

I immediately went on steroids and muscle relaxers. Talk about loopiness. Steroids to hype me up and relaxers to make me drowsy. Awesome. I also slapped a heating pad on my neck and got a massage.

And to be honest, that's been my nearly 2 weeks since my last blog. Sad, huh.

Yep, I'm famous

A few months ago, I met some girls who had read my blog before they had ever even met me.

A few weekends ago, I met a fellow attorney who had just read my blog earlier that week before he had ever even met me.

I feel like a rockstar, yo!

I guess I just don't think about how easy it is to find people/things on Al Gore's fabulous invention. He is a rockstar too you know.

Nothing is truly private anymore. If you put it out there, people can find it.

Case in point- there is a blog out there called FITSNews. Last year, they had a "contest" called Carolina's Hottest Lawyer. It was for female attorneys only. This year, it became personal. Some nice person decided to nominate yours truly. Aw- sweet. NotSoPlainJane is a sucker for flattery, y'all!

They want photos, so someone posted a picture of me from a Jersey Shore costume party. Which didn't bother me in the slightest. I think the picture is a lot of fun. It was a costume party for Pete's sake.

Then people decided to get all mean and judgemental on me. Saying that I shouldn't post a picture like that on Facebook. Really, Judgy McJudgerstein? I shouldn't? Why? Because I can't be a fun person and post pictures of my life? According to that person, it's a horrible picture and something I should be ashamed of. The people who should be ashamed are the cowards who are calling me ugly and a 1o-footer (whatever that means). Without having the balls to use their names.

But it did remind me that nothing is truly private if it's on the interweb. Good thing my fun-loving self doesn't get embarrassed by costume party pictures and the like. Wouldn't that be horrible?!

My baby girl

For those of you who have absolutely no idea anything about me, I have a BEAUTIFUL baby girl, Lali.

See- isn't she gorgeous?

So many of my friends have the blessing and privilege of being able to tell funny stories about their kiddies. So I decided maybe it's time to tell stories about my kitty.

I got Lali about 5 years ago. She was from a large litter and weighed only 1/2 a pound. Just a little powder puff of cuteness. Thanks to love and food, she's now quite the beauty.

I'm not really sure when it happened, but she hates people. Whenever I have guests, she hides upstairs. If forced to interact, she hisses and growls and attempts to bite. I do know that a few years ago, my mom took her over to their house so my cleaning lady wouldn't freak out (she doesn't like cats). I got a call from my mom after work and went to pick up the cat. She was hiding in my bedroom, hissing and snorting. But as soon as I got her in my car, bundled up in a towel, she was fine. And she's been a little bit crazy ever since. She doesn't snuggle. She doesn't love on me. She's the definition of an independent cat.

I took her to the vet last week. She cried the whole trip there. Watching her at the vet hurts my heart. She braces herself on the table and just cries. I'm never going to make it with children! But then, when I take her home, I let her out of her ADORABLE polka-dot carrier and she can wander around the car. Her spot of choice? Curled up in my lap, head buried under my arm.

My favorite thing about my girl is that she likes to listen to me sing. I will sit in my den, singing. And the cat will come running down the stairs and sit in front of me, just listening. It is the cutest thing ever (and certainly feeds my ego).

Anyway, that's enough about my beautiful girl. I love her so much. I really do.

Mirror Mirror on the wall, I am my mother after all

When I look at pictures of my parents, there is no doubt where I came from. I am the spitting image of the both of them!

But that's where the similarity used to end. Yes, I'm a lawyer, just like my dad. And even briefly followed in his footsteps by being a prosecutor. But he told me I shouldn't be a lawyer. Yes, I'm pretty music. Which comes from both parents. Mom can sing and play the piano. Dad is pretty good on percussion and used to play the accordion. No- I do not lie. The accordion. But then we have the differences. Both of them enjoy sports (tennis, golf, other sports when they were younger). I detest playing sports. I was a dancer and cheerleader growing up. I think you would have had to threaten my parents with death for either of them to dance or cheer.

The older I get, the more I become my mother.

I worry about pleasing everyone.

If I wake up at night, I obsess about things until I can't sleep anymore.

I won't actually confront people who piss me off, but I will talk about it with a friend.

Don't get me wrong- there are still some major differences. But with every passing year, I become more like this amazing woman. And I hope that makes her proud.

Never trust a person who doesn't have a nickname

A few days ago, I was discussing nicknames with a friend of mine.

Nicknames make me happy.

One of my friends, The Fourth (for those of you who read Eat Drink and Be Mary...Douglass, you know who he is), is the KING of creating nicknames. He has two for me: Roush and Guy la Roush. Both stem from an incorrect pronunciation of my last name. But he nicknames everyone.

Then I starting thinking about all the nicknames I've accumulated in my life.

JR
Junior
Punkin
Olive (as in Oyl)
Janer
Jane Fish
Janathan

The list goes on. It made me start thinking though. Of all of these nicknames, very few people use more than one of them. Pops calls me Punkin. Little Mommy calls me JR. They don't call me any of those other nicknames.

Then I was talking to my cat this morning while I was getting ready. Don't judge. She talks back.

Her name is Lalita. She was named for a Hindu goddess. "Lalita is a woman-child Goddess. She delights in all play and pleasure. The universe is a great toy to Her, created for Her enjoyment." I figured nothing described a cat better than that! But I call her Lali.

Anyway, this morning, she decided to peek in on my shower. I saw her little paw on the glass and started talking to her, calling her Buggie. I nicknamed her Lali-bug, which eventually got shortened to Bug, which then became Buggie. Amongst her other nicknames:

Doodle-bug
Doodle
Doods
Princess Fluffernutter
Stinker (a nickname I have also given my parents' cat)
Bugalicious
Stinker-doodle

I'm sure there are others I have forgotten. But it made me realize something. My cat has more nicknames just from me than I have been given by all the people I've ever gotten a nickname from. And to be honest, I think most people probably nickname their pets more than anyone else. Sad. But true.

I dreamed a dream

Lately I have been having some crazy weird dreams. They have made me anxious, they have left me confused, they have woken me up early.

They have, in fact, been so strange that I have decided to start a new blog just of my dreams. Every morning I'll write a little about my dreams. If for no other reason than it will be really cool to read them back. And maybe, just maybe, some of my loyal readers are blessed with the gift of dream interpretation and can help me out here. It would be most appreciated. I actually have a dreamer's dictionary (a gift from my wonderful Davidson roomie because of my weird dreams) and I use it quite frequently. Of course, if you don't care to read my new blog, that's cool. I'm really more excited about doing it for me anyway!

http://jane-dreamalittledreamofme.blogspot.com/

So there you go, beloved readers. There's nothing up there yet. But it's coming. I might even back track and discuss some crazy past dreams. You never can tell what's going to happen in Jane's little dream world.

It's about how you see yourself

Body dysmorphic disorder is a type of chronic mental illness in which you can't stop thinking about a flaw with your appearance — a flaw either that is minor or that you imagine. But to you, your appearance seems so shameful and distressing that you don't want to be seen by anyone. Body dysmorphic disorder has sometimes been called "imagined ugliness." When you have body dysmorphic disorder, you intensely obsess over your appearance and body image, often for many hours a day. You may seek out numerous cosmetic procedures to try to "fix" your perceived flaws but never are satisfied. Body dysmorphic disorder is also known as dysmorphophobia, or the fear of having a deformity.



I once saw a talk show about body dysmorphia. I can't remember if it was something legit, like Oprah, or crap, like Tyra. Either way, I came to the conclusion that some of the people who suffer from it are crazy. Because there was nothing wrong with them, at least physically. The others truly did have a problem. Extreme eating disorders are a form of dysmorphia and I've always wondered how an anorexic cannot see that at 80 pounds, they are too skinny.


Then I realized that almost everyone I know has some form of body dysmorphia, even if it's not an extreme form.


I was talking to a friend of mine a few weeks ago. She is absolutely GORGEOUS. But she sees a flaw in herself that no one else sees. Something that I didn't even notice when she pointed it out to me. But it is something that bothers her.


But I really started thinking about it in terms of myself. In the past year, I have lost 10 pounds (not by choice, I'll have you know). EVERYONE comments on how skinny I am. Yet I still see areas where I could lose weight. Even after getting on the scale and seeing what I weight. Even after trying on clothes that used to fit perfectly and now fall off of me. I still don't see myself as others see me. And I guess that's what body dysmorphia is really all about.

The first step is admitting you have a problem

I'm going to go ahead and admit it.

My name is NotSoPlainJane and I'm addicted to (so bad that it's good) reality TV. Originally, it was Real World and Road Rules. Now I can't be bothered with the new episodes of Real World. But I still find myself drug into the Real World/Road Rules Challenges. Only because they truly seem to bring back the crazies I loved so long ago.

My love affair with reality TV hit a new high this fall. That's right- MTV introduced us to Ronnie, Sammi Sweetheart, the Situation, Pauly D, J Woww, Snooki and Vinny. AKA The Jersey Shore cast. Life will never be the same. I watched every new episode. I watched marathons on the weekends (you know, in case I missed something funny the first time around). My BFF and her hubby threw a Jersey Shore joint birthday party- my costume was Jersey-tastic!



My new guilty pleasure has become the girls of Pretty Wild on E!

These "sisters" (the 2 youngest are full sisters, I think the oldest is a half-sister. Or maybe adopted. I'm not sure) are famous for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Okay, so the middle one got arrested in connection to all the robberies from celebrities' homes that were going on in LA. But they are hysterically funny. One of them becomes upset that Ryan Cabrerra (yep, that retard with the dumb hair who dated Ashlee Simpson back in the day) doesn't want to date her. They have no brains, very little ambition, but wow! are they amusing! The only thing I don't get is why the entire family constantly says "And so it is." What does that even mean?

Anyway, I just thought I'd share my love affair with reality TV. I ain't ashamed. No seriously- I'm not at all ashamed. They have rehab for this, right?

This one's for you Marshall Erickson!

Last Friday night, I hit 5 Points for Happy Hour for the amazing MegLee. She was home for a visit from jolly old England. Okay, so technically calling Columbia home is a stretch (as her home is Arizona). But whatever...

After Happy Hour turned into hours (and Grilled Teriyaki), I headed back to my car. The one thing I had forgotten to do before going to Village Idiot was feed the parking meter. So what was waiting on my car when I got back to it? Yep- an orange envelope and a parking ticket. Oh well. I'll just pay it.

Yesterday, I went to write the check to put in the Clemson-colored envelope from hell. I happened to glance at the ticket. No, no one had switched tickets with me (you never can tell- I've heard of that happening). It was my car. My tag. But the time of issuance of the ticket? 6:08 pm. When do meters in 5 Points become freebies? 6:00 pm. It does NOT take 8 minutes to write a ticket. Which means that ticket was issued incorrectly.

Take that City of Columbia meter maid. You just got lawyered. And don't think I'm not going to argue about why I shouldn't pay the ticket. I think my law degree might FINALLY come in handy! Huzzah!

AMENDMENT as of 9:30 am this morning: I called the City to make my argument. Who knew that the meters in 5 Points have to be fed until 7 pm?! Damn City- that's awfully late in the day. And effectively destroyed my argument. So they'll now get my $7. Yep- I was going to the mat for $7. Bring it on!

Tucker Max is my hero. Well, sort of...

For those of you who don't know the above pictured fellow, this is Tucker Max. Officially, he is a lawyer (graduated from Duke Law). But more importantly, he has a blog. And some books. And a movie. He's also a bit of an a-hole (according to him, not me. I've never met him).

Anyway, the reason he became so "famous" is his blog. Which oddly enough started out as a joke. Women could send in their pictures and an application to hook up with Tucker. I found that to be quite a humorous way to get your start. Especially if it means ending up with a movie starring Logan Huntzberger from "Gilmore Girls!"

So I started thinking. Perhaps I should turn my blog into a new blog. Or simply start a new blog. Where men can apply to be my husband. Think it will work? Applications will be available later this spring.

Soulmates?

Nothing makes me giggle as much as people talking about their soulmates.

I am a CRAZY romantic. No, seriously. If you don't know me, this is something you should know.

But I find the concept of only being blessed if you get to marry your soulmate to be complete hogwash. So many people talk about how their lives are complete now that they have married their soulmate. And I feel kind of sorry for them. I don't think your soulmate is necessarily the person you are meant to marry.

Sometimes, your soulmate might be the person who was everything you needed at a certain point in your life. Sometimes, your soulmate might be a person to whom you simply could never be married, even though they make you happy. Sometimes, your soulmate might be someone of the same sex who is meant to be your friend for life. Sometimes, your soulmate might even be a family member.

But to say that your life is incomplete if you don't get to marry your soulmate? Well, doesn't that kind of limit what a soulmate really is?

I guess you can officially call me a clothes horse

This weekend was spent cleaning out my closets. I've got quite a few closets in my house, none of them very big. But it's just me, so I feel that I should use all of them. One closet in my bedroom is used for dresses, suits and jackets/blazers. On the floor of that closet are boots and various shoes (sneakers, Danskos, etc.) The other closet in my room is used for shirts, skirts and pants. On the floor of that one are some of the rest of my shoes (heels, sandals, etc.) Of course, there are about 20 boxes of heels stacked outside of my closet. Yep- it's a disorder. I'm seeking help.

The closet in my guest room is only half-full. I keep it that way on the off chance that I have an overnight guest. I mean, they've got to have somewhere to hang clothes, right? But that closet has cocktail and formal dresses. And all of my purses.

The closet in my study is what I lovingly call my transitional closet. It contains off-season clothes (which means it's got my winter clothes in there right now) and clothes that I need to sell. This time around, it also holds clothes that aren't fitting me right now. I know- everything you read says to get rid of stuff that doesn't fit you. But they are referring to that size 2 dress that will never fit now that you are comfortably a size 6. I've experienced some extreme weight loss lately, so my clothes will eventually fit again. I know I'll gain some of that weight back.

Anyway, my closets (other than the one in the guest room) were almost bursting at the seams. I had forgotten some of the stuff in there. So I pulled everything out of 3 different closets and threw it all on the floor/bed/hallway. Then it went into one of three piles- Trash, Sell, Keep. Trash pile- small. And already in the garbage. Keep pile- pretty big. But happily back in my (no longer quite as stuffed) closets. Sell pile- embarrassing. And covering the floor and bed of my guest room.

The added benefit to this Spring Cleaning fever was that I did some thinking about myself. Spring Cleaning's not just for your house and closets, folks. It's good for your soul.

Movies, they aren't just romantic on screen

So a few nights ago, I was watching TV and up popped a commercial that "Sahara" was going to be one TBS tonight at 8 (or some crap like that). Anyway, it got me thinking about movies, especially love stories, and movie stars. And if movie stars watch the movies they star in long after they finished filming.

In "Sahara," Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz play love interests. And they dated in real life. Obviously, that relationship wasn't a keeper. But I wonder if either of them watch that movie and feel awkward that they were dating at the time.

There are lots of other couples like that. Penelope Cruz and Tom Cruise. Gerard Butler and every female movie star. Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens. There are countless examples of couples who fall in love on and off screen. And while it's great for Angelina Jolie to say that not a lot of kids get to see the movie where their parents fell in love (you know, while one was still married to someone else), I wonder how awkward it must be to watch a movie where you fell in love with a costar and now you have fallen out of love.

Yes folks, these are the things I wonder about sometimes. I'm a deep thinker.

A dream is a wish your heart makes

I just finished watching Disney's latest princess masterpiece, "The Princess and the Frog." For those of you not up on your Disney princesses, this particular princess is a waitress in New Orleans. And she's black. Yep, Disney finally decided that every girl can be a princess. It's about time! The movie was wonderful- I found my head bopping along to the music, the storyline was intriguing, and the characters (other than the Shadow Man) were lovable. It made me remember all the other Disney movies I've always loved.

Growing up, I was a HUGE Disney fan. Clearly, I still am. I would watch those Disney princesses by the hour, never tiring of their stories. I still can. My cousin's little girl (ie My Favorite Person on the Planet) can't get enough of those Disney princesses. She's had the theme parties, the costumes, the works. One of my best friends loves Disney so much that she and her husband spent part of their honeymoon at Disney. And had so much fun that they returned for their one year anniversary. Don't think I wasn't a little bit jealous!

So much of Disney appeals to both children and adults. But what's sad is when you realize that what Disney is peddling is so beyond the fairytale that you are unable to face reality. There isn't a Prince Charming out there for every princess. Not everyone is guaranteed a happily ever after. Sure, it's great to dream. But dreams don't always come true. Don't worry though- I won't tell the kids that. Because sometimes, it is still good to dream. Reality will come soon enough.

But they're cousins, identical cousins and you'll find...

This is me and my dad, faithful husband to one woman.

This is Mark Sanford (minus me), adulterous governor of South Carolina. I've got some connections folks, but they aren't good enough to get me a pic with Marky Mark.

For some reason, people think Pops and the lover of Argentinian tail look alike. I've never seen the resemblance.

The parentals and I love a little McAllister's for a meal. A few years ago, the parentals were in there without me. And one of the cashiers/waitresses informed them that she and some of the customers were pretty excited that Governor Sanford ate at McAllister's. And apparently that he was stepping out on Jenny even before the state trip to South America.

The funniest for me, though, was when I got an email from a friend of mine. She was at lunch at Zoe's with another friend. Both of them got very excited to see Governor Sanford walk through the door. Until they saw my mother walking in with him and realized that it was my dad and not the governor.

Oh well. I guess if I can't be famous, it's nice to have a famous (or infamous) dad!

According to Rob Hyndman, lawyers should enjoy their work and clients. Today I truly did.

As a bankruptcy attorney, my day is spent meeting with clients. Some of those clients are new clients, trying to determine whether bankruptcy is the right move for them. Some of those clients are existing clients, trying to get advice about a problem with their case. Both types of clients come in and out of the office, one right after the other. And most of them make no real impression. Other times, they are super memorable. And today was one of those days. I'm going to ignore the bad memorable ones (yep, I'm talking to you, Affliction-attired skeezer) and focus on the ones who made me glad I do what I do.

My first existing client of the day was the cutest little grandmotherly type. I was able to help her with what was going on with her case. She immediately started crying. For those of you who don't know, I am a sympathetic crier. So I started crying along with her. She asked me if I was a Christian (which I am) and told me God works in amazing ways. I agreed. Then she asked what color my kitchen is. Kind of gold I told her. Because she was going to knit me a dish towel for my kitchen. When she got up to leave the office, she grabbed me up into a big hug and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I love clients like her!

Another existing client was a super friendly fellow. After talking with him, he told me I do a really good job, I am very efficient, and my boss should give me a raise. Doggone it, I love clients like him too!

Am I just too Southern?

This is a Folgers commercial that truly bothers me to no end.

First of all, the father and daughter seem to actually enjoy Folgers coffee. If nothing else, it speaks well to their acting abilities. Because Folgers coffee is crap. It's instant, after all.

Second, I'm going to go under the assumption that the daughter is actually an adult. So why does she have an implied curfew?

But what really gets to me is the daughter's reaction to her father when he says that he talked to Todd last week. Why does she seem so surprised? If I were the girl in the commercial, I'd be more shocked if my boyfriend/new fiance had NOT asked my father for my hand in marriage. Isn't that how it's supposed to go?! Or am I just too Southern for my own good?

It's not confusing, it's deep

I have been a huge fan of LOST since the second season. Wait, what? The second season? What about the first season, NotSoPlainJane? Well, I kind of didn't watch the first season until it came out on DVD. Why not? Because I had too many other shows going on. However, once I was turned on to the wonder that is LOST, I was hooked.



The best thing the creators of LOST decided to do was repeat the "enhanced" episodes prior to a new episode. Lots of times, these enhanced episodes help remind me of stuff I'd forgotten from the previous 5 seasons. I wish the enhancement would point out things that are important, but I guess that would be asking for too much. Anyway, the point of this is that I now watch each episode twice. And notice things the second time around that I didn't always notice the first time.



Last week's regular episode/this week's enhanced episode was an interesting one. And a conversation between Jack and Hurley really stuck out to me. They exited the jungle and came upon the Lighthouse. Jack said, "How is it we've never seen it before?" To which Hurley replied, "Guess we weren't looking for it."



How true is that about most things in life?! Things are always right under your nose. But until you look for them, you don't even know they are there. A deep thought from Hurley (who's quite the deep thinker, I think). Despite all appearances....

Signs, signs, everywhere signs

I'm a big believer that there are signs everywhere. Not street/traffic signs. I mean that stuff that whacks you in the face. I never used to believe in signs. Or coincidence. I guess that's my dad talking there. He always says there no such thing as coincidence. Coincidence isn't God's plan. I will say, though, that I do now believe that there are signs. Horrible movie, but interesting points, was "Fools Rush In." Matthew Perry and Salma Hayek. Big mistake for both of them, but I did like some of points brought up. The reason this couple ended up together (you know, aside from that baby that resulted from their one night stand) was that there were too many reasons for them NOT to be together.

Sometimes, you don't realize at the time that there are signs pointing you in different directions or shaping different parts of your life.

For example, I should have known that someday I would have more than a passing connection to the state of Arkansas when I house sat for a law school professor and found a Razorback pig hat in his closet. Now, did I think it would mean that Pops would end up in Little Rock for cancer treatments? No. Should I have been shocked that's where he ended up? No.

Here's another one for you. One of my best friends didn't live in Columbia for part of high school (we didn't become friends until college). She moved back to her mom's neck of the woods. Where was that? Janesville, Wisconsin. Was there ever a doubt that we would be friends?!

I can think of countless other things that have happened in my life. Things that should have led me to different ideas about why things have gone the way they have gone.

Why is it though, that people who talk about signs or how something is so coincidental seem to be the ones who run from those things when confronted by them?

"True happiness consists not in the multitude of friends, but in their worth and choice."

I've been thinking a lot about the nature of friendship lately. I once heard a saying that I believe to be very true. You have friends for a reason, a season or a lifetime. I have friends who fall into each of those categories. And each and every one of them has been important. Like how I used the past tense? That's because some of them aren't in my life anymore.



Some friends come in and out of your life quickly. Some friends come in and don't leave (even though you wish they would). Some stick around for the long haul.



Friendship truly is a symbiotic relationship. It's amazing how many people think that friendship should be parasitic. They take and take, never offering anything in return, to your detriment. Those people, well, are they truly friends? Others view friendship as a commensal relationship. They will take, but it doesn't really affect the person they are taking from in a negative (or positive) way. Other relationships are competitive. This is never a good thing. Don't get me wrong, a little healthy competition is good for the soul. But if your entire relationship exists to try to one-up each other, perhaps you should rethink your friendship. The relationship that a friendship should be is a mutual one, where everyone involved is benefiting from the friendship. If you truly find this relationship, don't ever take it for granted and don't ever let it go.



When I look at my true friendships, I know they are mutual relationships. These people love me, for the person I am and the person I may become. If I need them, they will drop everything and come running. They will talk for hours if I need to vent. And they know that I will do they same for them. For a true friend, nothing is too much to ask. And even if you don't talk or see each other as often as you'd like, you know they are there.



While those other friendships can be fun, you know in your heart that they aren't making you a better person. Or maybe they did, but now you have outgrown the friendship. There's no shame in realizing that some friendships aren't meant to be forever relationships. It's never easy to let them go. But sometimes, it's for the best. Because it opens you up to the possibility of a new "forever" friend. And those are rare and precious commodities.

For the love of green!

So last night, I had to run by the pharmacy for a prescription. As I was walking out, I noticed the small shelves of half-price Valentine's candy. I wasn't interested in buying any, as I didn't really need any candy in the house. However, I am a candy/chocolate lover, so I had to look at what they had to offer. And what do I see? This:

Yep- that's a bag of nothing but green M&M's. Now, if I remember correctly, the green ones allegedly make you horny, right? Then why is it being marketed as the new color of love? Is this even remotely appropriate, esp for Valentine's? I think not. But hey- maybe that's just me.

I hate that today is considered a "holiday"

I have never been a big fan of Valentine's Day. When you are single, it's the one day of the year that makes you feel even worse about being alone. And when you are dating someone, there's too much pressure. Plus, if you think you can prove to me in 1 day that you love me more than you've shown on the other 364 days of the year, you've got another think coming. I am the girl who usually "celebrates" V Day by giving people dirty looks and wearing all black. But this year, in honor of this non-holiday, I'm going to provide a list of things that I currently love.

My parents
My friends
My cat
The fact that there is still some snow on the ground
Cherry coke
My snuggie
Heart-shaped pizza from Papa John's
Vampire books
The movie Loverboy (yes, it was on TV today. And yes, Patrick Dempsey was/is super adorable)
My camera because it's pink and actually didn't delete my pictures from New Year's
Ginger snaps
My skinny jeans (which I find myself shocked to say)
Footie pajamas
My humidifier
Wellies (they have come in very handy this weekend)
The sweater I got for Christmas
Hot chocolate
Conversation hearts (even though I haven't had any this year)

This year, I'm glad V day falls on a Sunday. Sunday tradition means I'll have dinner with the rents (who will always love me, no matter what). Perhaps this Sunday, we'll have some heart-shaped pizza and Valentine's candy instead.

I will judge you for using poor grammar

As an English major, I feel that I have earned the right to be critical of other people's grammar.



But NotSoPlainJane, you yourself have been guilty of misuse of grammar.



Touche my adoring readers. Touche. I have been known to be a little loose with my grammar. Heck, I make up words. My degree allows me to do so. And nothing you can say will convince me otherwise.



Lately though, there have been some real doozies that are getting to me. First off, the use of the word literally. As in, "When that cute boy came over to talk to me, I literally died." Actually, you figuratively died. If you had literally died, an ambulance would have been called and you wouldn't be sharing this tidbit with me. I might literally scream at someone the next time I hear it!



Next up, ending sentences with prepositions. Namely, with and at. For example, "Where's it at?" Worst sentence in the non-English language. I have been known to respond to the above question with the following sentence- "It's AT right over there." Sadly, the questioner doesn't seem to realize that I am mocking them. Then again, they are the ones who don't speak well.



Some of my other big ones are using incorrect words/tenses. The ever popular I vs. ME debate. Using the word I doesn't make it more proper. If it's used incorrectly, it makes you sound like a dumbass. Do not say "Come to the party with Bob and I." Ugh. The two incorrect words that I have heard most recently are undescribable and irregardless. Just go ahead and stop using those words right now. Neither of them are actually words. As I said, I'm a big fan of using words that I've made up (my ever popular craptastic comes to mind). But at least I acknowledge that I am using my power of English-majoredness to allow me to make up these words. I don't actually think they are words!

I swear, bad grammar is becoming as annoying to me as bad etiquette.

"It's a shallow life that doesn't give a person a few scars.”

I've got quite a few scars on my body. While I might not remember how I got each one, most of them truly do have a story attached.

The small dot of a scar on the inside of my right wrist? Hospital, 7 years ago, when I almost died.

Weird dark scar on my right elbow? Tubing on Lake Keowee this summer. It might go away later in life. It might not.

Numerous scratch-like scars on my hands and arms? Um, hello. I've had cats all my life. You antagonize them enough, they aren't happy.

The funny one in my belly button? That's where I had a mole removed during college.

The small one on the right side of my chin? Same as my belly button.

The double scar on my right knee? (Is anyone seeing a theme here with the right side of my body?!) It's from two totally different accidents. The first was falling off of my bike while racing my dad when I was in 5th grade. The second was right before Christmas. I was "tripped" walking across a parking lot. It was an inadvertent trip. I kind of did it to myself. Someone's leg just happened to help me fall.

Then there are the scars on my kidney from the staph infection. I can't see them, but I know that they are there. And if I have any scans done, doctors will see the scars.

The worst scars I have though are the scars that no one can see. The ones that I know are there. The ones that the person who caused them knows are there. And they are probably the ugliest scars I have.

Widgets-R-Us

I can't remember when I started talking about widgets, but I think it all began in law school. I know they came into my lexicon during 1L Contracts class. Did I talk about widgets before that? Maybe. I don't know.

I wish I was creative enough to come up with the widget that is going to make me millions. I will think of something, then think to myself who in the hell would buy that, and move on. Then I discover that people are selling chair socks. Yep. Chair socks. I do not lie. Someone decided this would be their way to make millions. http://charlesandmarie.com/chair-personality-socks And there are people out there buying this crap.

So I've decided that the next time I have a fantastically retarded idea, I'm going to write it down. And in a few years, when I decide that I don't want to be a lawyer anymore, I'm going to find my widget. Just wait. It'll happen. Probably about the same time I win the lottery. Which I don't play. Hey- a girl can dream.

Time in a bottle

A few years ago, I signed up to receive a daily email called Daily Candy. It tells me about clothes, jewelry, vacation spots, cool knick-knacks and fun websites. Once, there was a link to futureme.org. It's where you can write a letter to yourself that will be delivered to your email at a date in the future. Very cool stuff. You can tell your future self what is going on with you at an exact time in your life. Or what you hope you are doing at a future time in your life.

But one of the coolest websites that Daily Candy suggested was thememoryjars.com. It is an entire website of glass jars. You move your arrow over each one and it contains a date, a name, and someone's very important memory. Some of them are simple, some of them are deep. Some of them make you laugh, some of them break your heart. But it made me start thinking, if I could save some of my memories in jars, which memories would I save? Not the memories that people tell me about, or I see pictures of, but the memories that I truly have for myself. The first time I fell in love and what that felt like. The first time my heart was broken. Seeing the pride in my parents' eyes whenever I did something well. Dancing by the light of the Christmas tree at my grandparent's house with my mom. Watching my grandparents on their 50th anniversary and seeing the love that was still there as Bubba sang to Dove. My first glass of champagne at Christmas with my family. The high school football game in Charlotte when my parents came up to watch me cheer and stood at the fence with Dad's arms around Mom because she was cold. My first piano recital playing with Mom. I could probably fill my house with these jars.

If you could save a memory in a jar, which memory would it be?

Nobody's got no class....

I've noticed that the Boy and I have been going to see a lot of movies lately. Not that I don't love a good movie. I miss getting to go to them for free though.

Anyway, back to the point. On New Year's Day evening, the Boy and I double-dated with another couple. We went to see Up In The Air. Which was a great movie. The problem was the people sitting behind us. They spent the entire second half of the movie talking and laughing. To the point that I wanted to turn around and say something to them. I too paid money to come see this movie. I do not appreciate you ruining my viewing experience. Of course, when we realized that the girl had basically mounted the guy during the movie, that took it to a WHOLE other level!

Last night, we went to see Daybreakers. Which was an okay movie. The three girls sitting next to me (I mean one seat away next to me) laughed and texted during the ENTIRE movie. First off, when you pull out your phone, the light of it catches my eye and distracts me from the movie. Second, Daybreakers was NOT a funny movie. If you are having a funny conversation during a $9.00 movie, please go elsewhere. I would like to focus on the movie. Laugh at the occasional funny parts and get freaked out by the scary parts.

Basically, I'm just wondering whatever happened to manners. I know I blogged about airplane etiquette before. But now I feel like everyone, everywhere, has forgotten that other people are around. I try my best to be conscious of other people. I expect the same courtesy from others. Apparently, that's expecting too much.