Britney Spears

Okay, I admit it: I have a slight obsession with all things Britney Spears. She completely fascinates me. It's a love/hate relationship. I love to read about her, speculate about her and listen to her music; I hate to admit it. She's not that talented or intelligent, but she's interesting, that's for sure. I can't get enough gossip about her.

So I was excited to preview her new album. And guess what? I really like it. It's fluffy and light (she's no gifted lyricist) and danceable. It probably won't win a Grammy, but it's good for a Moon Man or two.

Chalk me up for an album sale when "Circus" debuts next Tuesday.

Life has been so busy!

Life has been so busy lately that I haven't really had time to post anything. It's been "go, go, go," for what seems like months, and every time I think I'm primed for a breather, something else comes up.

Most of my weekends have been monopolized by plans with Barback Boy -- who shall henceforth be referrd to as "The Boyfriend". We've had plans with our friends. We've suddenly become this unit so much so that I'm asked, "What are you and The Boyfriend doing this weekend, do you want to ____________?"

This past weekend, we went camping with his three closest friends and their respective wives/girlfriends. It was a pretty uneventful weekend, just some four-wheeling and s'more-making and bullshitting.

Oh, and he told me that he loves me. And that is pretty great.

Who? How? What?

Who in the world are cabbies talking to on their cell phones all day? And how do they have enough to say?

I was in Orlando not too long ago and on cab rides to/from the airport, the cab drivers talked incessantly on their cell phones. They really only stopped to pay the tolls and unpack me from the car.

Each was speaking in another language. other than Spanish or French or something else that I at least could recognize, if not comprehend. So whomever they were speaking to had to be from the same country. And so if the person on the other line was from the same country, and if they were also a cab driver (because really, who has 45 minutes in the middle of the day just to talk?) then the cab company had to employ at least two people from the same country.

What are the odds of that?!

Vice Presidential debates

How about this for a fun drinking game: Every time Sarah Palin says something moronic, inserts her foot into her mouth or doesn't actually know/have an answer for a question, take a shot of your favorite alcoholic beverage.

You'll be hammered within the first 20 minutes and the debates will be a lot more fun.

Mmmm.... food.....

Okay, so I read a few local foodie blogs here in Cincinnati and recently, the "Top 100" lists have been making the rounds. Julie over at Wine Me, Dine Me put up her Carnivore's 100.

Thanks to B and K, aka the Westside Foodie Wannabes, I now have a Sweet Tooth's 100 to think about. Here's the deal: You bold the ones you've tried and cross out the ones you would never, ever eat. That simple, right?

So here's mine, with lots and lots of bold. (Parenthesis added)

1. buckeye candy
2. german gummi bears (I guess regular gummi bears don't count?)
3. chocolate covered cranberries
4. flourless chocolate cake
5. butter pecan ice cream
6. oreos
7. oatmeal cream pies
8. key lime pie
9. hostess chocolate cupcake
10. bubble tea
11. creamy whip with jimmies (aka soft serve with sprinkles - for you non-Ohioans)
12. creme brulee
13. eggcream
14. orange julius
15. opera cream chocolates
16. chocolate covered pretzels
17. strawberry shortcake
18. ganache
19. liqueur chocolates (These are GROSS!!)
20. a turtle made from something other than pecans
21. bananas foster (I've had a bananas foster egg roll, so I'm counting it.)
22. caramel apple
23. reese's peanut butter easter eggs
24. cracker jacks
25. brownies
26. guinness chocolate cake
27. s'mores
28. mounds bar
29. wendy's frosty
30. black forest cake
31. cajeta
32. german chocolate cake
33. meringue pie
34. pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream
35. ben and jerry's
36. ice cream soda (the old fashioned kind)
37. buche de noel
38. peanut brittle
39. malted milk balls
40. springerle
41. angel food cake
42. cheese danish
43. rainbow sherbet
44. marzipan
45. tiramisu
46. a real big swirly lollipop
47. cream cheese and jelly sandwich (for breakfast, occasionally)
48. licorice (black, not twizzlers)
49. sugar-coated nuts, warm, from a street vendor
50. tuiles
51. cotton candy
52. vanilla (ice) cream soda float (root beer only, though I've also had with cream soda)
53. fruitcake
54. torrone (aka nougat - and I think it counts if you've had a nougat candy bar)
55. fig bars
56. new york style cheesecake
57. boston cream pie
58. fluffernutter sandwich
59. odd flavored jelly beans: popcorn, jalapeno, earthworm
60. moon pie
61. chocolate on beef
62. ginger snaps
63. pineapple upside down cake (!!!)
64. chipwich/chipwheelie (chocolate chip cookie/ice cream sandwich)
65. rice krispie treat
66. flan (one word: consistency)
67. pixie sticks
68. baklava
69. bazooka joe gum
70. syrup on bacon or goetta
71. fudge
72. homemade caramels
73. macaroons
74. candy cane
75. huckleberry pie
76. lemon bars
77. creamed honey
78. treacle tart
79. kinder surprise/kinder egg
80. lorna doones
81. almond granita
82. red velvet cake
83. tapioca (again... consistency)
84. turkish delight
85. orange marmalade
86. mango lassi
87. chocolate souffle
88. poached pears
89. gelato
90. eggnog
91. french chew
92. sticky toffee pudding
93. panna cotta
94. icee
95. manner hazelnut wafers
96. wonka bar
97. cannoli
98. trifle
99. pez
100. fortune cookie

Clarity (not the John Mayer song)

Okay, so you all know that I don't really dip my toe into politics on this blog.... though you can probably guess where I stand. I can't take credit for any of the following; I received it as a forward and it didn't give credit to a source. But, I loved the points made and thought other people should hear the message. Enjoy:

• If you grow up in Hawaii, raised by your grandparents, you're "exotic, different."
• Grow up in Alaska eating mooseburgers, a quintessential American story.
  
• If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.
• Name your kids Willow, Trig and Track, you're a maverick.
  
• Graduate from Harvard law School and you are unstable.
• Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.
  
• If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first black President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate representing a state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's Affairs committees, you don't have any real leadership experience.
• If your total resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking executive.
  
• If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real Christian.
• If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.
  
• If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.
• If , while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant , you're very responsible.
  
• If your wife is a Harvard graduate laywer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent America's.
• If you're husband is nicknamed "First Dude", with at least one DWI conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska from the USA, your family is extremely admirable.

Thanks for clearing that up.

Why?

Why do you have to refrigerate things like salad dressing AFTER you open it, but not before?

Oh, the destruction!

Yesterday, 50-mph winds ripped through Cincinnati, causing all kind of destruction throughout the city and its suburbs. My apartment was the victim of a power outage that resulted from approximately eleventy billion trees that fell down onto power lines.

One particularly huge tree fell in the front yard of my apartment building, but luckily it didn't hit anyone's apartment and no one appeared to be hurt. I'll try to post pictures of it if it is still in the front yard when I get home from work. The windows in my sunroom were blown open but that was about it.

Power was restored to my apartment shortly after midnight. A mile away, power came on around 2:30 a.m. A mile and a half away, they are still without power. Weird, huh?

Anyway, that's all for now. Pictures if I can get them later!

Food

Here's what I had for dinner the other day, during Cincinnati's Restaurant Week. I got all three for the special price of $28.08.

First Course: Scallop, spinach, tomato, potato, topped with lobster hollandaise

Second Course: Chateaubriand, aka medium rare beef tenderloin, Boursin whipped potatoes, asparagus with Bernaise sauce

Third Course: Chocolate peanut butter brownie, peanut butter sauce, peanut brittle, vanilla ice cream.

Results: Delicious

Interesting little experiment

I tend to steal things from other blogs that I like. The other day, I stole a survey from Sarah's blog and posted my own answers over on Cingle in the City. Today, I'm stealing from Scaramouche Jones' blog.

Aaaaanyway, 'Mouche has a post up about his surname and the various countries around the world in which other 'Mouches live. It is an interesting little experiment and I did it for myself.

Alls you do is type your surname into this little search engine and it will pop up all the countries where other people with your surname live. You can break it down by region of that country, too. For example, there is a large population of people with my surname living in Texas... where I have lots and lots of first cousins, so go figure.

You can check out the Web site here: http://www.publicprofiler.org/worldnames/

Here's where I live, in order of surname population density:

Ireland
Australia
Canada
UK
New Zealand
US
Luxembourg
Switzerland
Argentina
Spain (Ole!)

Insomnia

I have had a particularly vicious case of insomnia this week. It's not an overly important or stressful week at work, so maybe I'm not as exhausted as I am used to being. Maybe my body has gotten so used to the fast pace I've been keeping all summer that having a "downtime" week is throwing it off. Either way, this is the third night in a row where I've laid in bed, my mind unable to stop moving, my body refusing to relax and my eyes feeling increasingly like sand paper.

I hate this.

Ugh.

Back to my roots

One of the reasons that I went into public relations was because of the writing part. I used to love sitting down with one of those black and white composition notebooks and spinning out a story. In high school, I entered my writing samples into all kinds of award competitions and independently published magazines. At one point, I was actually asked whether one of the stories I turned in had been plagiarized. (This was in the 7th grade, so I understood. And nope, it was all my own work.)

I was reminded of my passion for creative writing when I moved recently. I found a bunch of papers that I'd written for various high school writing classes. I'm going to use them as inspiration to sit down and write the types of things that I used to love, instead of just writing the things I have to write.

Here's one that I can remember enjoying writing, and that made me think of my childhood when reading it.

Grape Juice Symphony

Summer sun, beating down
Upon my brow, sweat trickles.
I'm melting from the heat.
I feel like a puddle has started to form
Under me, on the cement,
A little Lauren puddle.
guess that is what it is like now, at 17.
When the heat gets turned up
We go inside, eager to sit on the AC vent,
Feeling the cold air rush up to cool us off.
But what about summers past,
Diving into the pool
Which was always cold because of the oak trees.
We'd play "basketball" in the front yard.
There was no hoop, only the house trim,
Which was white, and scuffed from our ball.
We'd play house too.
The flower bed was our house, remember?
The neighbors' boat was our sink, where the trailer
Hitch came through our fence.
The pipes for the pool was our back stoop.
Daddy said not to play on them,
But we did anyway.
The heat didn't bother us.
It could be 98 degrees outside,
And we would still be playing in our fort
With the kids down the street.
Now it is 98 degrees outside,
And we sit inside.
We have a basketball hoop now,
But it only swings when the wind blows.
We never play house anymore,
Because it is too hot to play outside.

Weekend Recap

So.... it was a busy weekend here in the 'Nati, with lots of good times to be had. The weekend started off right when I left work around 1:00 (yay, summer hours!!!) and headed over to my friend Anna's pool. She lives in a loft downtown and her pool is on the rooftop. We had a couple of beers, soaked up some sun and made plans to do the exact same thing this weekend... gotta love it.

After a couple of hours of sun and fun, I went home and prepped for my big bourbon tasting cocktail reception. It was a BLAST and guess what - bourbon isn't as gross as I expected it to be! Maybe because my only experience with bourbon has been a tentative sip of my mom's bourbon and water. Which IS gross!

After the bourbon I was supposed to meet my friends Dennis and Christy for drinks to celebrate Dennis' birthday. Unfortunately, they decided to stay in. Barback Boy texted saying he and his friends were down the road from where I live but by the time I got home an hour later, they had left so we didn't have the chance to meet up.

On Saturday, my friend Jenny had a super-fun backyard bash with Paul Otten, a local singer/songwriter who mostly just plays cover songs. The morning began with mimosas and quiche, then quickly turned to beer and flip cup. Afterwards, Anna and her boyfriend and I met up with friends Lauren and Adam, where more beer was consumed, plus some delicious burgers. Then it was home to take a quick nap/shower before heading over to Stephanie's house for more delicious beer and burgers. At that point, I'd been in the sun and drinking for nine hours, so I ended up exhausted and ready for bed by 10:00. I'm old.

Sunday was another gorgeous day, so of course I spent it outside. Barback Boy and I took in a Cincinnati Reds game and then did our own version of a pub crawl in Mt. Adams. We hit all the good, divey places - City View Tavern (thick, greasy half-pound burgers, approximately five tables and the best view of downtown you'll ever see); Monk's Tiny Cove (where the service is terrible but the drinks are cheap); Pavilion (another fantastic view of downtown); Crowley's (where I was the only girl); and then back to Monk's Tiny Cove where we met up with his brother, Brad, and Brad's girlfriend.... who, by the way, was doing recon for Mama. I like the brother and the brother's girlfriend and so I hope she reports back some good things to Mama. Also, I hope she doesn't share how tipsy I got.

I showed my hand a little, because I told Barback Boy that I am dating other people still but that he is at the top of my list. I really do like him, folks, and my affection for him grows each time we hang out together. In fact, I think we sort of made tentative plans for a trip to Chicago in September. To hang out with his cousins. Ay yi yi.

So now I'm home with a bit of a hangover and a severe allergy attack, debating a pizza and getting all distracted because I want Barback Boy to keep chasing me but I think I gave too much away! :(

L8 4 a D8

Uh-oh Teach. You may be in trouble now... seeing as how you were almost 30 minutes late for our date tonight!!

Let's go back to where it all started -- the beginning.

So this is my third date with Teach. Third dates are great... you know one another well enough to be comfortable, you might even have some inside jokes, and you know that you like one another enough to see each other again. The possibilities start to open up during the third date, and you start to actually consider keeping this person in your life for a little while.

Our first two dates went really well. What keeps me coming back to back to Teach is that he continues to surprise me - he's got smarts hidden behind this deep Kentucky drawl. He's funny and laid back. And while I don't like him as much as I like Barback Boy, I do like him and was looking forward to seeing him tonight.

For our third date, Teach and I yet again decided to meet for dinner and drinks. (Okay, mild criticism here: I like to eat, but I'm kind of in the mood to DO something, you know?! Like, Barback Boy and I went canoeing. Oh, and also? I have picked the place each time. How about you show some initiative and YOU pick the place next time?!)

Aaaaanyway, Teach had a fundraiser to attend for one of his friends, who is running in the Olympics, but whose mom doesn't have enough moolah to get there. Noble cause. Really admirable. Knowing that he had these other obligations to attend to, we decided to do dinner late and meet at the restaurant at 8:00.

At 7:55, I receive a call from Teach. "Hey, have you left your house yet?" he asked.

"Yep, I'm actually just parking. Why, what's up?"

"I'm running late. I might be closer to 8:05," he said. "Would that be okay? Are you mad?"

Well no, I'm not mad, I thought. After all, you were considerate enough to call and tell me you'd be late. So I responded, "Nope, not at all. See you then."

To kill some time, I took a nice, leisurely stroll around the block. I window-shopped as I passed by some of the upscale boutiques in the area. And I arrived at exactly 8:05.

No Teach.

So I waited for a few minutes in the lobby. I started getting fidgety. The poor hostess, sensing my discomfort, asked if I wanted to go ahead and be seated. Anything is better than just sitting in a lobby, so yeah, I wanted to be seated!!

I called Teach to let him know that I'd been seated and to just come in and find me. As we are about to hang up, I casually asked him if he'd be there soon.

Well, he's still about 10 minutes away. So no, he wasn't close and he was going to be late. "Go ahead and order a drink while you wait for me," he says.

Well, okay, no problem. A few more minutes is fine. But 20 minutes later, he still isn't there, my wine is getting warm and I, of course, am freaking out. That's when he ambles in.

He was incredibly apologetic. I swear, he must have apologized about a dozen times. But here's what happened. I guess he was late to this fundraiser event. Then, the newspaper and one of the TV stations showed up. (This story is big news in Cincinnati, so this much is plausible.)

Since he had some T-shirts custom designed and was selling them for this benefit, he was asked to be interviewed. He complied, but it put him farther behind. And then a bunch of his friends showed up, so he felt like he had to schmooze with them for a bit. Finally, at 7:55, he realized that he had to leave the benefit for our date... which by the way, was half an hour from where the benefit was being held. Hence the lateness.

Here's the thing: It doesn't bother me so much that he was late. It doesn't even bother me that he waited until five minutes before we were supposed to meet to call me.

What bothers me is that he told me he was going to be five minutes late, but in reality was going to be 25 minutes late. The benefit was in his hometown, and we were having dinner in the suburb where he lives now. So he KNOWS it takes longer than 10 minutes to get there. So why not just tell me that he's going to be 30 minutes late; I would have been slightly annoyed, but I would have killed some time and been none the worse for the wear.

And when I asked him why he didn't just tell me that he'd be 30 minutes late (and probably asked none too gently, considering I was actually kind of pissed off at that point...) he told me, "Well, I didn't want you to be mad."

But you thought that I wouldn't be mad just hanging out waiting for you for 25 minutes?! I mean, I could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he's being sincere and had the best of intentions. After all, he is a nice guy.

But on the other hand... is this a sign of things to come? What do you think, world? If a guy is nearly 30 minutes late to a date - pretty much knowing that he's going to be late but not wanting to "make you mad" by being honest about it - do you give him a second chance and see how it goes, or do you drop him like a hot potato and move on to the next?

Grade: C-

Cross posted at Cingle in the City.

Hodgepodge of nonsensical musings and gibberish

Okay, so I've been remiss in my updating duties lately. I had such a busy week last week, with lots of events and such to attend to, and so updating my blog fell to the bottom of the priority list.

This week is shaping up to be more of the same. I've got a date with Teach tomorrow night, sand volleyball on Thursday, a pool party Friday afternoon, cocktail party on Friday evening and a birthday party on Friday night. On Saturday afternoon I have a BBQ/backyard concert to attend, and another BBQ to attend later that night. I'm hoping to squeeze in some time for Barback on Sunday night but at this point, I may be so tired and hungover that I just want to be by myself. Sigh.

So, who is watching these Olympics? I love the Olympics and have been tuning in every night. Swimming, gymnastics, beach volleyball... those are my faves. I love the commercials, the patriotism, the sportsman-like conduct, the commentary by the (sometimes douchey) TV announcers, the excitement of the crowds.

Also, did anyone see the Paris Hilton response to the John McCain ad? Who knew P-Hilt could be so funny?! Of course, she had someone write it for her, but she actually pulls it off, I have to hand it to her.

Aaaanyway, I'll post a better blog entry soon but I am exhausted and ready to watch some of these fine Olympic games we've got going. See you again soon!

Well I haven't done THAT in a while

Last week, I read Sarah's answers to this survey. I liked it. So I stole it.

1. Last Movie I Saw In A Movie Theater? Get Smart

2. What Book Are You Reading? Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs

3. Favorite Board Game? Monopoly

4. Favorite Magazine? People

5. Favorite Smells? The ocean, rain, freshly cut grass, Aqua di Gio (or other nice boy smells), stargazer lilies

6. Favorite Sounds? The ocean, rain, the doorbell

7. Worst Feeling In The World? Hurting people I love.

8. First Thing You Think of When You Wake? Did I already hit the snooze button? How much longer can I wait until I really have to get up?

9. Favorite Fast Food Place? Chipotle, McDonald’s

10. Future Child's Name? Jackson, Luke, Dylan, Ava, Nina, Sophia Nicolas, Isaac

11. Finish This Statement—If I Had a Lot of Money I’d be rich.

12. Do You Drive Fast? Yes

13. Do You Sleep With a Stuffed Animal? Yes – and its name is Round-Headed Fuzzy Baby Bear

14. Storms—Cool or Scary? Rockin’

15. What Was Your First Car? Ford Taurus

16. Favorite Drink? Coke, vodka tonic, beer, wine

17. Finish This Statement—If I Had the Time I would take a nap.

18. Do You Eat the Stems on Broccoli? Yes

19. If You could Dye your Hair Any Other Color, What Would It Be? Black

20. Name All the Different Cities In Which You Have Lived: Mobile, Dayton, Oxford, Cincinnati

21. Favorite Sport to Watch? Football

22. One Nice Thing About The Person Who Sent This To You: Sarah notices things and is funny about things that I don't notice and can't be funny about. I'm envious.

23. What’s Under Your Bed? Boxes of stuff that didn't fit in any drawers

24. Would You Like to Be Born As Yourself Again? Yes. There are some things I would do differently the second time around.

25. Morning Person or Night Owl? Night owl

26. Over Easy or Sunny Side Up? Over easy

27. Favorite Place to Relax? In my bed, on the beach or in the park

28. Favorite Ice Cream Flavor? Strawberry chocolate chip from Graeters

Date #7 - Lord of the Rings

Tonight was date #2 with Mr. Marvelous. Our first date was just okay, but since we'd had so many great phone conversations before it, I wanted to have a second date. I thought maybe that I allowed my disappointment to color my overall impression of him.

We decided to meet at Macaroni Grill... except that, as I realized about 30 minutes before date time, I realized that Macaroni Grill is closed. So instead we met at Ruby Tuesday. Once again he brought me a flower, only this time it was two yellow roses. I sort of got the impression that every date we'd have, the more flowers I would get. It's a sweet gesture, but considering the amount of doom I felt about going on this date I couldn't really appreciate it for what it was worth.

As I blogged in my last post about Mr. Marvelous, I had a completely different image of him in my head than the person who appeared in front of me on our date. You might recall that I thought he was this cute, shortish guy before I met him... but in reality, he's tall and lanky with a weird body shape. What I didn't realize was that he actually reminds me a bit of a hobbit. Broad face, pointy ears. Sort of like this, but with shorter hair:

I came to this unfortunate realization about 5 minutes into our date... try enjoying your salad when all you can think is, "Frodo! Frodo Baggins!"

Sigh.

So we ordered and I tried to put the hobbit resemblence from my mind. My meal came with a salad bar, which he told me I could go enjoy. (Yes, you read that correctly. Told me.)

10 minutes in and I'm already annoyed that he's giving me permission to go to the salad bar. This was gonna be a long night.

I made myself a huge and delicious salad, which I began to enjoy upon my return to the table. However, he kept making comments about how weird he felt watching me eat. So I moved the plate to the side and waited for our meals to come. But then he got all weird about having chastised me for eating my salad. Hello dude?! What do you want from me?!

20 minutes in and I wanted to kill him.

While we were making idle conversation, he wanted to know what my first impressions of him were. I guess I wouldn't have thought that was such a weird question if my first impressions of him were positive. I know he was just trying to give me a compliment because he liked me "spirit", but I was just sort of put off by the whole question.

Our food came a few minutes later - thank goodness, because the awkward silence was starting to streeeeeeeetch. Except that during dinner he talked about salmonella poisoning. And the silence began to streeeeeeetch again.

50 minutes in and I was ready to go. Check please!

We finished our meal and the server brought the check. I picked up the tab because I knew I was about to break things off and figured a free meal would at least soften the blow. I got the impression that he wanted to linger and chat some more. I suggested we head out.

We walked out to the parking lot and I mentioned I was going to walk over to the bookstore for a few minutes, so this would be where we parted ways. He went for the hug/"I had a great time" combo. As we were hugging, I pulled out the "We're not clicking" line.

I hated the look of disappointment on his face. I hated that I put it there. He (understandably) cooled considerably upon hearing that I wasn't interested in seeing him anymore. I hate this part.

He kind of creeped me out at that point, so I wandered towards the bookstore and hung out for a few minutes until I thought he'd left. Seriously, I'm a 27 year old woman and I felt the need to hide? L.A.M.E.

Grade: N/A

Up next: Drinks/dinner with Teach tomorrow - Woo hoo!

Cross-posted at Cingle In The City.

Cornhole Revealed

Okay, so I've talked a little bit about cornhole on this blog before, and no one outside of Ohio really even knows what it is. So I'm going to break it down for you as best as I can.

So basically, there are two boards with holes in them. The hole is situated towards the far end of the board, at the point highest (about 15 degrees, I'd say) from the ground. The boards are each about three feet long from the start of the board to the edge of the hole. See this photo.

You place each board on the ground about 30 feet apart from edge to edge. One player from each team (there are two teams total playing on the same "court" at a time, so four players total) stands on either side of the board. Their team member stands opposite them at the other board.

Players take turns tossing four corn-filled bags apiece. If you land a bag on the board, you score a point. If you land a bag in the hole, you score three points. Each player takes turns tossing their four bags. At the end of the round, the low score is subtracted from the high score. So if my team gets three bags in the hole, we get six points. But if the other team gets two bags in the hole and one on the board, we only get one point.

The game continues with each player taking turns tossing the bags until one team reaches 21. The first team to reach 21 wins.

Of course, rules will vary a little bit regionally. For example, we always play that if you bust on 21, you go back to 13 points. Others don't play that way, which can make it a little confusing.

Even though it looks kind of boring, the game is actually really fun and can get pretty intense, especially when teams exchange leads or the game is tight. Consider that drinking is often done in conjunction with the game.

Okay, this video is kind of cheesy but here you go, this might help a little. It explains a lot better than I could.

Things I learned today

1) There are 23 bones in the human hand and 26 in the human foot.

2) The human body has 600 muscles.

3) The average length of the small intestine is 10 feet.

4) Your skin is the heaviest organ in your body.

5) Science is freakin' cool.

I took a vacation day today and had a "Mommy and Me" day with my mom. We went out to lunch at this restaurant called Chalk, followed by the "Bodies" exhibit at Cincinnati Museum Center. It was nice to spend some time just hanging out with her, especially since the pace of my life has been so busy lately and shows no signs of slowing down.

-------------Weekend Recap--------------

Friday: Drinks at Mulligan's with "Teach" followed by a party at Volleyball Joel's, where we played cornhole and just sat around bullshitting. Later met up with my friend TJ, whose company I am beginning to enjoy more and more as he lets me see behind the tough exterior.

Saturday: Date night with myself, followed by an interesting and lengthy conversation with The Ex (S). He hooked up with someone else. He called her by my name. Point for me. We actually had a really great conversation, he knows what is behind his fear of commitment and it sounds like he is really trying to embrace an understanding of himself and how he affects other people. Point for him.

Sunday: Felt GROSS - sore throat, congested, tired, weak. Popped Halls like candy and made it through the day.

-----------------Up Next-----------------

Tomorrow: Drinks with the girls at The Rusty Bucket to celebrate Anna's new job.
Wednesday: Happy hour and charity auction
Thursday: More sand volleyball with the "Beaters" crew - Joel, Joey, Scott, Megan, Megan #2, Kelli and Coach Jen.

Tonight I had a date with Mr. Marvelous. Here's how it went down.

We decided to meet at J. Alexander's. I have said before that I have this kind of weird, tingly feeling whenever we've had conversations in person. But I think I had a different image of him in my head than who he is in real life. In his photo, he looked like this cute, sort of short-ishy guy, but in real life he is tall and has kind of a weird body shape. Right off the bat I was a little disappointed... the chemistry that I'd felt on the phone just didn't seem to be translating into real life.But he brought me a pinky/yellowy rose which was incredibly thoughtful and charming. So I tried to set the fact that he wasn't at ALL what I expected aside.

I also felt a little awkward because while not the most expensive steakhouse I've ever been to, J. Alexander's is a nice restaurant. And when I eat steak, I usually eat filet mignon because it is the smallest cut of beef and is always delicious. But on a first date, I feel kind of weird and almost guilty ordering a big expensive meal, even if the dude is the one who suggested it.It wouldn't be so bad if they guy was planning to order a big expensive meal, too.

Unfortunately, when I compared what I was thinking of getting to what he was getting, it was clear that my meal was going to be more expensive. Like, double. And I felt bad about that! So rather than get the glass of wine and the filet that I would normally get, I got a strip steak (uck) and stuck to water. That way, we were a little more on par with one another. And oh yeah, since he doesn't drink at all, I would have felt TOTALLY out of place getting a relaxing glass of pinot noir. Sigh.

Anyway, the conversation was good but I felt like I wasn't being quite myself. I think I was trying to overcompensate for the fact that I was disappointed that I'd built up my expectations of him, and he didn't meet them. And by the end of the date, I was ready for it to be over.

I will go out with him again. Now that I have a better sense of what to expect, I think it will be a little easier. Maybe I can concentrate more on what he is saying and less about how my intuition was so totally off about him. We just had such GREAT conversations on the phone... and I had sort of built him up in my mind and was disappointed by the real thing.

Grade: B-

I treated myself to some fro-yo after my date, and literally bumped into a hottie in line in front of me. We made conversation and while I didn't make a move and neither did he, I was still struck by the fact that you literally could meet someone anywhere.

Cross-posted at Cingle In the City.

Weekend Recap

Brian often recaps his weekends, so I thought I'd try my hand at it. I give you my Weekend Recap for your reading pleasure.



Friday: Date with myself

I picked up some Chipotle, got a six pack of beer and STAYED IN. Caught up on TV, talked for a little while to Mr. Marvelous and had a great night.



Saturday: Cookout at Megan's

Beer, hot dogs, Mexican dip, Jell-O, cornhole, good tunes and good friends... what could be better? The weather was unbearably hot, but the rain held off until late. My friend TJ and I went up to the bar down the street and did a couple of Irish Car Bombs. I smoked him, per usual. (The Irish Car Bomb is one of my favorite drinks ever, and I have an inhuman ability to chug 'em down.)



Today: Date #2

So today I had a date with Tall, Dark and... Skinny. He was exactly as described. Really tall and REALLY skinny.



We went to the Cincinnati Art Museum, which is an awesome place. It was the first time I'd ever been there, and I definitely need to go back. We spent two hours wandering the various exhibits and trying to make converation. But in the hushed reverence of a museum is not the best place to make conversation, especially for the first time.



At one point, I saw him reach onto his belt for a little device. Yeah - he was wearing a pedometer. "This thing must not be working," he said. "It says I've only taken 245 steps!"



[Editor's Note: When I told my mom that, she laughed louder than I've heard in a while. I assumer you're joining her in laughter.]



At the end of the date, he asked me if I wanted to go eat. But the conversation, the chemistry just weren't there. So I declined. I mean, the kid is hugely nice and you can tell he is a total sweetheart, but if it's not poppin', it's not poppin'.



And seriously... a pedometer?! You may want to leave that at home the next time, fella.



Grade: D



Up Next: Dinner on Tuesday with Mr. Marvelous; Sushi with my girls Stephanie and Kristen on Wednesday; AMA YP meeting, followed by the first game in our summer sand volleyball league on Thursday.



Portions of this post are cross-posted at Cingle in the City.

Date #1

Last night was Date #1 with Italian Stallion.

We met at The Hillside Room, a quiet little restaurant that has a tavern on one side and a restaurant on the other. Unfortunately, Italian Stallion asked me to meet him on the tavern side, so I went in, ordered a beer and waited. Then a fancy-schmancy server beckoned me over to the other side, where my date was waiting. Oops.

The food was good. The conversation was good. He was pretty much what I expected. A gentleman all the way. A little nervous. A few awkward silences. Was the ZING there? Not sure yet... It is really hard to go out with a person for the first time, especially when it's a blind day. It was kind of hard to tell if we were both being ourselves 100 percent; in fact, he mentioned that he was being more quiet than usual. At the same time, I felt like I was having dinner with an old friend. Is the keyword "friend"?

Grade: B+

Cross-posted at Cingle in the City

Okay, so I up and did it!

http://cingleinthecity.blogspot.com

I'm trying to keep it anonymous...

I will probably cross-post here or at least let you all know that the site has been updated. To those of you who are single: Take heart, your dating disasters can't be as bad as mine! To those who are married: Way to fight the good fight. :)

Note to self

Dear Self:

You cannot drink a medium-sized chocolate milk shake from McDonald's. Stop. Trying.

Love,

Lauren

Summertime

When I was a kid, summertime represented freedoom. It meant spending lazy days at the pool or splashing through the sprinkler. It meant escaping to the cool darkness of a movie theater for a matinee Disney flick. As I got a little older, it meant staying up really late to finish a book, knowing I didn't have to work in the morning. It meant going to a bonfire to drink beer and make s'mores.

Summertime for adults is a much different thing. The lazy days of summer are gone, replaced by the real world and the concerns of getting it all done. Work. Errands. Maintaining friendships and starting new ones. The lazy days of summer that everyone talks about seems like a cruel joke that the universe is playing on you, a distant memory or a prize that is just out of reach.

It really sucks.

So how does one try to recapture the summer of their youth? How do we go back to feeling like summer is our reward for working hard the rest of the year?

feeling

i'm drunk and it's making me a little crayz. He and I just became frineds on myspace and I went there today and he has flirtatious messages posted form a girl who says "no, i think I picked you up."

she lives in cincinnati.

mother fucker.

I feel lie crap.

Wine and chocolate

Wine and chocolate. Two substances guaranteed to mend any number of ills, most notably, a broken heart.

The jubilation in my first post of the year and the depths of despair chronicled ever-so-briefly in my second post of the year may provide some insight into the roller coaster of emotions I have experienced in the past six months.

I met the ex - S - when I least expected it: Three days after Christmas through the same mutual friend who introduced me to my last serious boyfriend, Andy. S is easily the best, best, best guy i have ever dated. I fell for him. Hard. I have never, in all my life, been so convinced that I would marry someone.

The feelings were mutual. Within a week and a half, he'd told me about a daydream he'd had in which we were saying our vows. I was in a white dress. YES - that daydream. I'd had similar daydreams and was glad to know we were on the same page.

As the weeks progressed, we would make thinly veiled references to our future life together. Should he get started on his Master's now so that he can get his PhD quicker so that I could stay home with the kids if I wanted to? Should I start looking for jobs in Vegas? Everyone noticed how different this guy was, how differently I talked about him, how differently he treated me from some of the lame guys I'd dated in the past. I think we all thought I really would marry this guy and live happily ever after. Even my mom warned me not to come back married after a long weekend with him in Vegas.

And then.

And then it was just over. Suddenly. All of these issues started to come up. His past relationship failures. His fear of becoming like his father - a person who has abandoned both of the families he has become with an appalling lack of decency. Some stuff in his past that makes intimacy difficult and trust even more so. Major, major baggage.

It was the longest and the shortest breakup ever. Like I said: It was just over. He wasn't around for me to keep seeing. We don't talk to the same people on a regular enough basis to hear about one another through the grapevine. We tried to stay in contact and remain friends, but our natural camaraderie took over and we spent hours on the phone, just as we had before. It made it that much harder for me. Here was a person I loved deeply, deeply enough to actually really want to marry with no reservations, and I couldn't even listen to him breathe without fighting the overwhelming urge to cry. So we cut off communication completely.

After S and I broke up, I was in a bit of a rut. One day, tired of my own self-pity I recommitted myself to... myself. I had the brilliant idea that I would take a year and recommit to myself. The goal was to take all the energy that I would put into a relationship and put it back into myself. This year of dating myself would include (but not be limited to) working on all the things that I dislike about myself; investing more time in making new friends (and keeping the old); pushing myself to experience new things; and finally, starting the life that I have always wanted instead of waiting for my life to start. I am rediscovering myself. I know, I know: It sounds dorky (and it is). Maybe I'll turn it into a diary/self-help book.


But the thing is, my self-therapy has started to work. I have started to heal. It has taken a lot of wine and chocolate. I still cry over him - those big, heaving sobs that leave you drained on the bathroom floor - but the crying jags get shorter and come with far less frequency and violence than they used to.

I have been thinking a lot lately about getting back into online dating again. You all remember my Cingle in the City escapades, right?! I am thinking that even though I am dating myself, I can still date other people. I just won't be in an exclusive relationship with them. Plus, dating is fun and there is nothing like a dozen or so admirers to boost one's self-confidence. Some friends have been clamoring for it, claiming it is the perfect summer distraction. They may be right... we'll see.

So, sorry for the long, self-imposed sabbatical, folks. Hopefully I can win back my beloved blogger buddies. I've missed you and the cathartic power of this little online diary/window to my soul. And I just bought a fancy-schmancy computer so now I am completely wireless and utterly in love. You'll be hearing more from me, soon!

Sabbatical

I'm taking one. From men. From blogging. From life.

New Year, new me, new he

So, this month has already been completely crazy for me. I was assigned to two new accounts (taking my total up to seven, if anyone is counting) and I'm now supervising four accounts instead of two. So, needless to say, there has been a huge adjustment for me at work.

Then, there's.... him. The guy that I met over Christmas, when I was home in Dayton visiting my family. We met through a mutual friend and he is simply fantastic. It's been a whirlwind. I have only known him for three weeks, but I feel like I've known him all my life. Despite the fact that he lives 2,000 miles away - or maybe, in spite of that fact - we're working it out.

I tend to be excited about a new romance, freak out a little, find something wrong with it and then drop it like a box of hot rocks in a fairly impressive time frame. With him, I'm just excited. There is no, "He's great, but..." Even the fact that he lives in Las Vegas and I live in Cincinnati doesn't deter me from having a relationship with him. In fact, I think it is something that is incredibly good for us, because we get to concentrate on all these other aspects of our relationship before we take it to the next level.

Usually, I post my blogs in the evening when I get home from work, but lately I've only had a couple of hours to do the laundry, clean the house, make dinner, etc. before I settle in for my nightly, hours-long call with him. We can talk for hours and hours on end and not get bored, not run out of things to day and at the end of the conversation, even though we've been on the phone for a couple of hours, I'm still sad to hang up. So, if I'm a little bit lame with the posting, that is part of the reason. (Although, I did just figure out how to do it from work, so that is great news!)

The other great thing about this new relationship is the fact that I feel like we are totally and completely on the same page. It's refreshing to know that we're not going to freak one another out when we talk "us" or "we" or any of that. It feels like it is all moving so quickly, but at the same time, I'm embracing it fully. It might be quick, but it's the right pace for us.

Even my friends have noticed the change in my demeanor. They noticed it within the first conversation that I had about them, when I'd just met him but instinctively felt there would be more to him than just one date and an occasional call.

Seriously, is this happening to me?