Girl, what's that smell?!

Last night was a stressful one. The Augusta competition is fast upon us, and my Augusta dancers are in Panic Mode (and me too, for that matter) as we prepare. I'm the only one who teaches all 20 of them on Tuesday nights from 6-9 p.m., so it can be quite chaotic. I have to teach and answer questions from parents and answer the phone and . . . you get the picture. Alyssa, a senior dancer at the North Augusta studio, has been helping me, thank the good Lord! But even with her helping me last night, it was stressful times 100. There's so much to do!

ANYWAY. On the way home, I stopped by the grocery store (I've been living off Ramen noodles and packaged tuna for 'bout two weeks. No lie.) I couldn't decide which shampoo to buy, and of course, I had to sniff each one I picked up. Well, when I took a whiff of an Herbal Essences flavor, some shot out of the bottle and landed on the top of my hand. Now when I say, "some," I mean a big glob. I looked around for something to wipe my hand on, and nada. Great. So . . . I did the next best thing and just kinda' rubbed all over my hands, like it was lotion. During checkout, the young lady behind the counter said, "Goodness! What fragrance are you wearing? It smells so good! Is it perfume or lotion?" I just stared at her for a good 10 seconds, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Is she serious, I thought. Finally, I muttered, "Um. It's lotion." (I couldn't very well tell her it was, in fact, shampoo.) That wasn't the end of it. She WANTED to know where she could get some. "Where'd you get it from cause I'm gonna' have to get some," she asked. Again, a 10-second pause. "Um. I think . . . I got it . . . somewhere overseas. I can't remember . . . um. I think it's a raspberry scent or something." OK, why did I take it in that direction? Overseas? WTH? Finally, she let it go, though. "Oh. Yeah, it does smell like raspberries." I laughed all the way to my car.

I guess this experience taught me that, in a pinch, shampoo can substitute as lotion . . . and no one will ever know the difference.



Officially, I'm obsessed with finding jackets and blazers for fall. This new obsession heightened this morning when I stepped onto my front porch on my way to work. The air was brisk, a little chilly, and I got goose bumps. I love that feeling --- ahhhhh, the first hint of fall! So, in my spare time (ahem), I've been browsing for the perfect fall jacket and blazer. I've had my eye on this J Crew piece I blogged about last week, and I just scoped these pretties from GAP. *Sigh* One. More. Day. Until. Payday. (Not that I could afford either, but . . . one day.)


Some Days Are Better Than Others

I love a good independent film. I do. My Netflix que is filled with 'em, and I'm always on the lookout for a good one to add. I found the trailer to this one yesterday, and I'm completely intrigued and can't wait for it to come out. Here's some IMDB info on it (check out who's playing the male lead!!!)

Some Days are Better than Others (trailer) from matt mccormick on Vimeo.


First o' the month can't get here sooner!

I'm dying to make an online purchase . . . it seems the urge is stronger when I have no money (and by no money, I mean $12 in the ol' account until next Thursday. OUCH.) Here are some lovely items I've been keepin' my peepers on. (P.S. I've been dying to do something different with my hair. I don't want to chop it off or anything drastic like that. I just want it to be different. Change colors? I suggested red to Bradford, and the look of disgust he gave me was priceless.)

T-shirt art via Fifi Lapin Blog. Check it out!


Band Beat

I know I'm a little late with this group. It was only this summer when I discovered The Ting Tings, an English rock duo that formed in 2007. I was in Maine, and That's Not My Name was conquering the radio waves. I knew when Bradford's young nieces (they're like 7 and 10, or close to that) sang every word to this song that I was waaaaay late. It's one of those moments late 20-somethings have when they realize they really are, in fact, getting old. Nothing we can do about it! So I guess I'll just have to try a little harder to keep up (I'm outta' breath just thinking about it!) Check out this diddy.

Shut Up and Let Me Go
Shut up and let me go
This hurts, I tell you so
For the last time you will kiss my lips
Now Shut up and let me go
Your jeans were once so clean
I bet you changed your wardrobe since we met

Now oh so easily your over me
Gone is love
It's you that ought to be holding me
I'm not containable
This turns up
it's not sustainable

I ain't freakin'
I ain't Fakin' this
I ain't freakin’
I ain't Fakin' this
I ain't freakin'
I ain't Fakin' this
Shut up and let me go

Shut up and let me go
This hurts, but I can't show
for the last time you had me in bits
Now Shut up and let me go!
For fear of leaving in regret
I changed this one when we first met

Now oh so easily your over me
Gone is love
It's me that ought to be moving on
You're not adorable
I was something unignorable.

I ain't freakin'
I ain't Fakin' this
I ain't freakin’
I ain't Fakin' this
I ain't freakin'
I ain't Fakin' this
Shut up and let me go

Oh love, hold this.

Shut up and let me go
This hurts, I told you so
For the last time you will kiss my lips
Now Shut up and let me go


It's all in the pictures!

Here's what I've been up to this month. B also took some photos of me dancing yesterday at Arts in the Heart . . . but um, not so sure I'll post those since I was drenched (and I mean drenched) in sweat. Ewwwwww!

Sullivan's Island
From far away, I thought the sign read: Deadly Crabnets. Makes sense, right? Got made fun of for a long time after that one.T's first soccer game with the Mt. Pleasant Soccer ClubNight out with my Genes, Bill, Fefa and Brad"Plummmmmmmmmm." Don't know where my "Plummmmmmm" was in this one. Fefa had it going on though!


Weekend, I need you to start ASAP!

I cannot wait for the weekend to start. I have so much to do, but I feel so good about all of it. Tonight, I'm heading downtown to see the Avett Brothers with my pal, Jenny (unless the show really is sold out --- yikes!) She's driving into town from ATL, and this will probably be the last weekend she can until Christmas, so a meet-up is a must.

Saturday starts with preparing for R&C's show on Sunday. We're performing at Arts in the Heart (a super cool festival you should def check out if you're in the Augusta area) and we have so much to get done before then. It's one of our biggest shows of the year, and it occurred to me last night that this might be my last Arts in the Heart show with R&C.

I'm meeting up with Fefa, Brad, Genes and Bill Saturday night for a much, much, much needed catching-up dinner. Can't wait!!

Also can't wait for
B to bring my laptop home to me. He's been borrowing it for school and finally purchased a sweet-ass MacBook Pro yesterday . . . kicking my little MacBook straight to the curb. But I can't wait to have mine back! I will finally get to upload my photos and post, post, post!


Have I switched Olsens?

I've always dug Mary-Kate Olsen's style . . . right down to her oversize scarves and chunky jewelry she loves to wear, but lately, I've had a thing for Ashley's clean look. I just think she looks so gorgeous --- and honestly, healthier-looking than her sis. Maybe she's happier? Hmm.


Band Beat

I remember the first time I heard M.I.A. It was a couple of years ago by accident, actually. Serendipitous, for sure! I was browsing the Net, adding songs to my iTunes, and there she was . . . clad in bright, 80s-inspired attire and dancing around in front of crazy backdrops in Galang. I thought, look at her style! Look at her hair! I love her voice! She's so freakin' dope!!!!!!!!!! (Yeah, I said, "dope." Sooooo I was/am a little over-the-top about her.) I started researching her work and found Paper Planes (before it was featured in Pineapple Express, mind you) and instantly fell in love. It's my jam. I love the beat, I love the lyrics, I love the video . . . everything. Take a gander!

Paper Planes
I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make 'em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait

Sometimes I think sitting on trains
Every stop I get to I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner, we're making our fame
Bonafide hustler making my name

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And take your money

Pirate skulls and bones
Sticks and stones and weed and bongs
Running when we hit 'em
Lethal poison through their system

No one on the corner has swagger like us
Hit me on my Burner prepaid wireless
We pack and deliver like UPS trucks
Already going hell just pumping that gas

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And take your money

Third world democracy
Yeah, I got more records than the K.G.B.
So, uh, no funny business

Some some some I some I murder
Some I some I let go
Some some some I some I murder
Some I some I let go


No sleep and MTV

OK, so I haven't been sleeping well. At all. Last night was another instance. I finally dozed off at around 3 a.m. this morning, which means I got a whopping four hours of sleep. Puffy eyes? Yes. I tried to blame it on the fact that I stayed awake until 2 a.m. watching the MTV VMAs rerun. But no . . . I would have done that anyway. Finally, I realized that I'm just a big ol' chicken. Every little noise in my house scares me . . . even when I know where it's coming from (like my washing machine or dishwasher or some other noisy appliance). What's wrong with me? Last night (well, this morning) I could have sworn someone was in my house. And it didn't help that my cat, Raisin, had her big ears in Alert Mode and even propped up into a sitting position (in case she needed to attack? IDK.) So here I am in bed . . . paralyzed (because you always are in these situations) and trying to think of what I would do if someone was in my house. Crawl under the bed? Naw, tight squeeze. Jump into the closet and hide myself behind the rack of clothes? But then what to do with Raisin? She'll just meow at the closet door until the burglar figures out I'm in there. Jeeeeeez. You see what I mean? I'm a chicken. Thank goodness B and T are coming home this weekend!

Now I've got to switch topics and talk about the VMAs for a minute. Did you see Pink's performance? Holy. Crap. It was so freakin' awesome and gave me goose bumps the whole time. Girl's got major talent.
Here 'tis. Oh, and BIG thumbs down to Kanye for what he did to Taylor Swift. Uh-uh.



I'm sure many people remember exactly where they were that day --- especially my fellow late 20-somethings. Most of us were in college at the time . . . about to finish and be on our way. I was a junior at ASU. I was outside walking to my film history class when a classmate ran past me. I turned and said, "What's wrong?" He kept running, but turned and shouted, "The World Trade Center has been hit." I stopped and looked around. That's when I noticed ASU's campus was completely silent. No one was around. Quiet.

I then bolted to my class, where other students from other classes had come to watch the news. We were packed tight in the room, watching the horror on a flat screen. When the second tower was going down, it seemed like everything was in slow motion . . . even our gasps. Silence. Seconds and seconds and seconds ticked by, and then my professor, who covered his face with his hand, said, "Go home. Go home to your families." I believe he's a native of New York . . . or maybe he lived there for several years. I'm not sure. But I remember the pain. And I remember us slowly filing out of the room.

I called my mom after I left. She was in Atlanta for work, and I could hear the panic in her voice as she reminded me that her best friend, Jane, worked at the Pentagon. Jane was OK. I sat on the floor of my Bellevue Ave. apartment watching Peter Jennings for the rest of the day. I couldn't pull my eyes away. Later that day, I found out my older brother was at Ft. Gordon at the time of the attacks and had to stay in a secured room for hours. He had no idea what had happened --- he was just told he had to wait in a room until further notice.

I can't imagine what the people whose relatives and/or friends died that day felt/feel.


Current Celebrity Infatuation

I've been a fan of Nicole Richie since she was overweight, ridiculous and starring alongside Paris Hilton (not a fan of this one, by the way) in The Simple Life. She's come a loooooong way since those days (phew!), and I like her even more now (a friend of mine even bought me this for my birthday a few years ago.)

I've been following her pregnancy and checking a fan site (that doesn't seem to be working right now, but it's www.nicolerichie.org) daily (yes, I realize that's a bit much.) Yesterday, she gave birth to a baby boy she named . . . get ready for this . . . Sparrow James Midnight Madden. Wowza', that's a mouthful! Now, I'm not knockin' it, by any means. After all, celebrities can get away with blessing their children with ridiculous names (and if you knew what I plan on naming my first son, you'd ask, "What? You think you're a celebrity or something?")

Nicole and her Baby Daddy, Benji Madden, also have a precious little girl named Harlow Winter Kate (I actually really like this name.)


Band Beat

Datarock, a Norwegian duo, is a fun, "indie-pop" (gag at the label) band that consistently puts a smile on my face every time I listen to one of their tunes. At first, though, I vetoed them all the way and was just about to toss 'em to the wind when I started bobbing my head and smiling. So give them a chance.


I need a shot
I need a shot of ambition
I need a hit
I need a hit of nutrition
I need a fix
I need to fix my ignition
If you want to whip me into shape
I need a plan or a mission

Cause I'm gunna ride fast, going nowhere
And I left my brain in the past
I'm gunna ride fast
To where I don't care

Faa Faa Faa FA FA FA FA Faa


Weekend Highlights

I had a great time in Charleston this weekend, minus having a forced conversation Friday night with Thomas' mother. (I really wanted to stay in the car, but didn't want to be a complete heifer). She met us in Columbia to take Thomas for the weekend, and as we were talking, she (very out of the blue) said, "You guys are such a great little makeshift family!" W. T. F.?!?!?! She's so freakin' clueless. Don't even get me started.

Bradford has my laptop, so I'll have to post some Labor Day photos at the end of the week. But here are some highlights:

1. Took some photos with the Polaroid, yay! (Coincidentally, I found this, so if you're a Polaroid film user, get on this action).
2. Had great coffee and bagels at Charleston Bagel Company, where we sat outside, read magazines and enjoyed the breeze.
3. Saw 500 Days of Summer (I've been waiting and waiting and waiting to see this). Loved every minute of it.
4. Drank a couple of pints and ate crab chowder at a proper Irish pub called Madra Rua. Did not think I would enjoy this experience at first, but it grew on me, and I had a really good time. It's definitely not a "Hey, let's bring our wives and girlfriends to watch the game!" kind of pub, though.
5. Walked along the shore at Sullivan's Beach for a good two hours. Talked about life, our future, Thomas, school, dance, my bad eyesight . . . everything. It was my favorite part of the weekend.


UO greatness

If you're near an UO this weekend (like I'll be --- heading to Charleston for Labor Day weekend to see my mans) check out this $39 Denim Sale . . . All together now, "Sweeeeeeeet." It's this weekend only, so take advantage. Here are my favs.


Band Beat

I love a good all-female rock band, and I've been enjoying these French ladies quite a bit, especially this little tune. Check them out!

You can use anyone
But it won’t be long ’til somebody finds
there’s something wrong.
Now, four seasons have passed
Buried at last, and covered in ash
Our love is gone.

Say whatever you want
but the beat goes on
It’s better for us to stay away
Wait, I have enough faith, courage and strength,
just to move on and meditate.

Let’s get down in Barcelona
I like romancing, but I don’t wanna
Let’s get down in Barcelona
tonight we’re dancing like no tomorrow.

Now, just like before
we’re both on the floor
and we will get out of this another time
And, as we’re shaking hands
we understand, you go your way
and I go mine.

Let’s get down in Barcelona
I like romancing, but I don’t wanna
Let’s get down in Barcelona
tonight we’re dancing like no tomorrow.

Falling down, falling down,
touch the ground, touch the ground
Going mad, going mad, not too bad, not too bad

Let’s get down in Barcelona
I like romancing, but I don’t wanna
Let’s get down in Barcelona
tonight we’re dancing like no tomorrow.


Current Celebrity Infatuation

Soooo, I can't get enough of this dude. Seriously. He plays Eric Northman in True Blood (Bradford and I are all up on this show --- we can't get enough). The villainous Eric, my Current Celebrity Infatuation (CCI), is the vampire sheriff of Bon Temps, La., and he's rude, crude . . . and quite frankly, I like it. And anyone who knows me KNOWS I prefer a dark-haired, dark-eyed guy any day. Which is why when I first said something to Bradford about how the sight of him makes my knees tremble, he was a little confused . . . and a little annoyed, for that matter. And rightly so. When we're watching the show and Eric comes onscreen, I immediately start fidgeting. I sit up a little straighter in bed. And without thinking, I'm all like, "Look how tall he is!" or "Monkey, seriously! He's got to be what? 7'2"? He's so tall!" Yep. Way to figuratively gut punch your boyfriend, Amy. Your dear boyfriend, who, bless him, is pushing 5'7".

Ladies, if you're with a vertically-challenged man, the number one rule is to NEVER talk about height. It's a huge self-esteem downer, and I know better. And no
matter how much you say, "I don't love you because of your height!" it doesn't matter. It's a big ol' deal to them.

So now, I can never talk about Alexander Skarsgar
d again . . . to Bradford, anyway.