"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.